The Bonds of War

Department of HumanitiesPsychology/Sociology Section

For: Chief EngineerSubject:: The taxations of war

War changes people, off that there is no doubt. It is the nature of the beast we call war. However it is the forge that tests the souls of warriors the planes over. It is the crucible that we have used to measure the worth of a hero throughout time. It is by the hellish torments of battle that we have taken to physically represent another axiom: change leads strife and strife leads change. So we have taken it to mean that a hero is one who can accept the changes to their life and adapt to them and overcome the adversity that now burdens the heart.

The forge that tempers the spirit burns its brightest in the heat of battle. It is the nature of the conflict and the will to survive that guides the tempering. The fighting soldiers of Acheron draw closer and build bonds of trust and family with each other. Every conflict strengthens their trust in each other and their training, though there is no true joy in it, the soldiers learn the benefits of their collective mind. The ability to function in battle without a thought or a care is what makes them survive.

The mind mass of the unit builds a fostering hope within each soldier. It instills a sense of belonging. Even the lowliest of the foot soldiers feels comforted when in this state. When they are separated or otherwise forced away from the communal mind, they have a problem.

The taxations of war impose a new set of instincts upon a soldier. They are the instincts of a feral beast. These instincts can never be removed from the soldier. It is a horror and a reminder to the testament and legacies that war have left us with. It is the emotional and psychological scar that reminds us that war truly is hell. Even the most jaded of planewalkers has yet to fall to the level of an Acheronian soldier.

Look into the eyes of a soldier who's seen one too many battles. See the emptiness of their soul in reflected in their eye. The spark of life is distant at best in these poor souls. The massive carnage has taken it toll on these pitiful excuses of living beings. Listen to the way they talk, and you will here the bitterness and loss in their voices. Watch how they move and act. You will see the reflexes of the battle-hardened stand out. Where is the glory for these poor sods?

When you look at a soldier in this state, you can see that once a killer, always a killer. Even if they choose to procreate, their mate will always be viewed with suspicion, no matter how well they have treated each other. A soldier, especially one who's killed can never again relax and truly enjoy life. The military conditioning has changed their instincts too much. They are too far-gone to return to a life of tranquility and civility. The savageness of their past has tainted them forever.

This is the state of the Acheronian soldier. They have condemned themselves to find their true purpose, or calling if you will, in life through the use of the sword. They have forgotten what it means to be a member of their race. They hope to forget the horrors of war through the acts of war. They truly live by the sword so they can die by it. They have no sense of glory left. Honor is a hollow concept and respect is grudgingly given to those who have superior strength. These sods have no purpose other than to forget so they may attempt to remember what they were once before. They spiral ever downward in pursuit of perfect function in hopes that perfection will unlock their imprisoned minds from the hells they create for themselves and maybe even amass some power along the way.

Calix Arvandus, Shaper 2.