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“Dandarel, Dandarel,
fais, je te prie, que je trouve mon amour,
qu'elle me soupire de doux mots et qu'elle caresse avec chaleur mon visage!
Et, Ô, Dandarel,
je te prie, donne-moi le courage
d'oser lui parler."
Billet anonyme au pied de l'Autel de Dandarel, dans le Temple Carré de Nomblau.
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Enregistrement de la fabrication de la page :
(et, bientôt, la version courte :) )
I find it interesting that whispers of this tradition have fallen upon my ears even though I rarely hear tell of stories from the Rocks. Now I wonder at the element of truth in your tale.
Oh, you know… just enough to make it interesting!
interesting. wonder what’s so sacred about a circle of stones?
Oh, you know. People in the Rocks. Stones. Traditions. You do with what little you have^^
Among many warrior tribes, violence is abundant, but still dangerous. Tradition slowly gathers, accrues like barnacles on the bottom of a boat. But in this case such a tradition, “one can only/must fight” within a certain area is useful in reducing the amount of fights //outside// that area. Thus do warrior societies/tribes/groups manage to not just kill themselves off within a handful of years.
A study of violent groups that do not adopt traditions of this nature show they do not survive erelong.
The Warriors of the Rocks come from an exiled order of knights, and who better than the military to know that violence without discipline isn’t sustainable?