Introduction to Honor
As presented by Teren, Archbishop of Tyr, to the 124th Freshman Class at the Remore Adventuring Academy, City of Vitesse, Nation of Rann, in the year 8013
Honor. A simple word, yet one that carries immense weight. You are here, no doubt, because you seek to become powerful. More skilled than the average fighter, more learned than the common spellcaster, more dangerous than the untrained. And make no mistake: the world you enter will be dangerous as well. It will test your strength, your resolve, and your character. If you have come to this lecture seeking wisdom on the meaning of Honor, then I applaud you, for you are already asking the right questions.
Let me begin by dispelling a common misconception. Honor is not passive. It is not a state of being. It is not a vague quality that you can claim simply by doing no harm. If doing nothing were all that Honor required, then the dead would be the most honorable among us. And I assure you, they are not.
No, Honor demands action. It is defined not by your intentions, but by your choices - the actions you take and the consequences you accept. Allow me to explain.
First and foremost, Honor requires the action of protection. To be honorable, you must stand as a shield for those who cannot shield themselves. People, animals, any living thing capable of suffering harm, if they are innocent and defenseless, Honor obliges you to act on their behalf. This is true regardless of the nature of the harm or the source of the threat. Whether the danger comes from a mindless monster or a scheming villain matters not; whether the being you protect is weak or small or strange matters even less. To act with Honor is to ensure that harm does not befall the vulnerable when it is within your power to prevent it.
But protection alone is not enough. Honor also requires the action of helping. It is not enough to shield someone from harm if you leave them to languish in misery or despair. To be honorable, you must strive to help others grow: to become healthier, happier, and freer. I do not mean handing out charity indiscriminately or solving every problem for every person you meet. That is not help; that is dependency. No, I mean the kind of help that uplifts others, that gives them the tools and confidence to control their own destinies. Helping others does not mean carrying their burdens for them. It means showing them how to carry those burdens themselves, and, when necessary, helping them shoulder the load until they are strong enough to do so alone.
This brings me to the third and most complex requirement of Honor: foresight. Any fool can intervene in the heat of the moment, swinging a sword or casting a spell with righteous conviction. But true Honor demands more than that. It requires you to think not only about the immediate consequences of your actions, but also the ripples those actions will create. Let me give you an example.
Imagine you pass through a village and see a thug bullying a woman. The dishonorable choice would be to do nothing, to look away, and let harm unfold before your eyes. But an equally foolish choice, though it may seem honorable at first glance, would be to draw your blade, strike the thug down, and leave. Why? Because while your intervention may have saved the woman in that moment, it could condemn the rest of the village. Without considering the consequences, you may have emboldened the thug’s companions, or set off a chain of violence that escalates once you are gone.
An honorable person would act, yes, but they would act wisely. They would not simply eliminate the immediate threat but would consider the long-term well-being of the village as a whole. Perhaps the answer is to shame the thug publicly, undermining his authority. Perhaps it is to rally the townsfolk to stand together, showing them they do not need to live in fear. Perhaps it is to speak with the village elders and find a more permanent solution that discourages such behavior in the future. Whatever the case, Honor demands not just action, but thoughtful action.
And now, a new lesson for you, one many overlook: Honor requires minimizing harm. There will be times, as adventurers, when you must cause harm to protect others. When you must draw your blade, cast your spell, or strike down those who would do harm themselves. In those moments, Honor requires restraint.
To be honorable is to use the least harm necessary to end the threat. If you see a violent criminal in the act of harming another, your first thought should not be to end their life, but to stop their violence. Restrain them if you can. Disarm them. Subdue them. If all else fails and lethal force becomes the only option to protect the innocent, then so be it, but only as a last resort.
Why does this matter? Because harm, once done, cannot be undone. Every life you take, every wound you inflict, leaves a mark on the world and on yourself. Even when your cause is just, Honor demands that you consider not only the results of your actions but the weight of the harm you carry with you. Mercy and restraint are not signs of weakness; they are signs of strength. And when you minimize harm, you not only protect others, you protect your own soul from being corroded by cruelty or indifference.
This, my students, is the heart of Honor: to protect, to help, to think, and to restrain. Not just to act, but to act with purpose, wisdom, and compassion.
Now, some of you may be thinking, ‘But Archbishop, what if the costs are too great? What if protecting someone puts my life in jeopardy? What if helping someone means sacrificing something precious to me? What if thinking long-term is too difficult in the heat of battle? And what if restraint costs me the advantage in a fight?’ To that, I say this: Honor is not easy. It is not meant to be. If it were, we would not need to speak of it at all.
The truth is, there will be times when the path of Honor feels impossible. When you will be tempted to take the simpler route, to act selfishly or impulsively, or to do nothing at all. In those moments, remember this: Honor is not a burden to carry. It is a choice to embrace. It is not a chain that binds you, it is a light that guides you. And when you choose to act with Honor, you do not merely prove your worth to others; you prove it to yourself.
You are about to enter a world where your power will set you apart from others. You will face monsters, both literal and figurative. You will face decisions that test the very core of who you are. And when that time comes, I urge you to ask yourself four questions:
Am I protecting those who cannot protect themselves?
Am I helping others to grow and thrive?
Am I thinking not just of the moment, but of the future?
Am I minimizing the harm I cause, even when harm is necessary?
If you can answer yes to all four, then you will have acted with Honor. If not, then you must consider whether you are truly worthy of the power you wield.
This is the charge I leave with you today. Honor is not something you are born with, nor is it something you can claim without effort. It is something you must earn, over and over again, through your actions, your choices, and your sacrifices.
May you wield your power wisely, fledgling Heroes. And may you walk the path of Honor, even when it is hard. Especially when it is hard. For that is when it matters most.