The Shek only value battle, so battle we give them, time after time, for hours. Days. Weeks. Months.
Years.
To strip them of their weapons in the ultimate insult. To tear their horns is only cactus salt to a gaping wound. They'd roam the lands with shame, and there is no greater joy in this life than to inflict that kind of shame to as many Shek as possible.
>"What would warrant such hatred, then?"
A question that has been asked many times before, the answer; it's always different.
>"Because they are Darkened bastards, born out of Narko's cunt, to bring ruin to all of us."
>"Because the only thing going on inside their bone-spiked heads is violence."
>"Because the Skeletal Demon is behind it all."
Outsiders would rather call us "dumbass Okranite zealots" than to come down here and see for themselves the kind of ruin they bring.
Yet for all of this barking and biting, this back and forth, another question emerges.
>"Why?"
>"Why keep fighting?"
I will tell you why.
To keep fighting the good fight is to keep one of many threats at bay.
The Shek, at the end of the day, are "living" beings, as much as I'd loathe to utter those words out loud, Okran forgive me.
There are much worse things out there. Skeletons, bug-men, the Cannibals in the Northern Frontier, the blue-men to our West, etc.
Eventually, I and my group will head North, but for now, we fight down here. With our brothers in arms.
(2/3)