Nothing feels half as sweet as wielding a finely honed word.
Steel and iron are of no use to me when I can bring battle-bled soldiers to their knees with a single sentence.
Releasing a well-aimed arrow can not compare to the adrenaline rush of unleashing a battalion of bitter words on an army outfitted in ebony armor.
The swing of a thousand swords does not deal nearly as much joy as showering a deserving party in good news.
Yes, words are my weapons.
But they are also my poison.
Stellular Scribe 