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Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:46 pm
Tjaden followed the Grand Patriarch through the vaulting, stone temple walls, soaking in his wisdom and quelling the pride in his chest at the man's praise. He was a little surprised when the man's deep, reverberating voice spoke of making him a champion of their temple.
"I am honoured by your good words, Grand Patriarch, but I am hesitant to take up the mantle you have offered me." Tjaden responded cautiously after taking a moment to let it sink in. His face was awash with conflict. "I strive always for truth and justice, to avoid bloodshed, preserve innocence and protect the week. This qualities, befitting a righteous knight of both our races, are ever in my heart...save one." Tjaden took a breath. He knew in his heart that what he was about to say was true, though he had been avoiding the fact for a long time, perhaps longer than he was willing to admit.
"You see, Grand Patriarch, I have been taught, since I was a little boy, to honour my ancestors, for their spirits watch over me. Though I was orphaned and did not know my lineage, I have always offered my prayers to those of my adoptive tribe and could not easily turn away from them. My flaw, then, my crisis of late....has been faith. I have been plagued by doubt and battled with uncertainty even as I walked the halls of the tomb below. I would gladly fight in honour of your cause, but how could I be such a beacon of hope as a Champion of Balpheron, a faith of humans, if I have fought so long with the faith of my own people? Truely, Grand Patriarch, you may have wished to speak to me, but it is I who need your help..."
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Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2010 9:34 pm
The Grand Patriarch merely smiled at the notion.
"Then I think it is time you learned of Balpheron and know that your faith is not so different from our own."
He took a small bow and led the orc into the primary chapel, away from the grand foyer. The windows were stained glass, depicting gorgeous images of a man with golden hair, wielding a greatsword, pursuing countless noble deeds, detailed throughout each pane. In the far end, stood a large statue of the same warrior, kneeling with his sword driven into the stone. In front of the monument sat a pedestal, on top of which was a tome of the faith. Beremond stopped in front of the book and turned to a specific passage.
"Balpheron, like your ancestors, was once a mortal being, simply a young man with a strong heart. Haven did not exist before the coming of Balpheron. He was born to a small fiefdom, much like your clans, though they remained stationary as opposed to the mobility of your tribes.
He was only a squire in the courts of a nobleman, who abused his power like many other lords of the darker eras, living vastly greater lives than those of their subjects. It was not until the arrival of the First Plague of Undeath that this began to cease. It originated on the Isle of Dread, within the center of the sea that separates present day Haven and Two-Tusk Citadel.
The Plague scarred the lands, the dwarves and elves held their own against the invading hordes, but they were unable to strike back onto the offensive. The humans, and halflings were unfortunately left to fend for themselves, as we were all divided, weakened by the noble baronies that separated themselves for their own selfish desires. The orcs were still purely nomadic during this time, however several sought refuge with the surviving bands of humans, hoping for some miracle, though most never would find any respite.
A sinister undead lord by the name of Tyrandar who had engineered this first plague began to marshal an army of the dead with the sole purpose of wiping out humanity, the halflings, and even the orcs in order to bolster their advances into elven and dwarven territories. If such an event had come to pass, nearly all civilized life would cease to exist.
However, it was not meant to be.
In a small village outside of Tradewind, Balpheron had rallied together the survivors from all the towns within a two days' reach. They were farmers, merchants, boys and old men, halflings, even orcs; they were mostly militia who had never held a blade. However, Balpheron's determination was never-ending, he had taken up the shield and sword from his fallen lord's keep and spoke to his frightened brethren as the ravenous hordes neared:
'My dearest friends, brothers and sisters, soldiers and kin, we stand as the last hope for humanity. There may come a day when no light shines and the darkness covers all that we hold dear, a day when all hope has faded and the bravery within our hearts dies. Let it not be this day! Let this be the day that you will tell your children and they theirs, for generation to generation! Let this day be the day that no man looks to another as inferior, but as a brother in blood! It is here that we make our stand! It is here that we fight for the very right to exist! I beg of you, stand with me, my brothers! Stand and fight!'
With that soul-bolstering speech, the simple village-folk felt uplifted, roaring with their cheers and suddenly a pillar of light descended from the sky and enveloped Balpheron, illuminating him with a golden aura. It was then that everyone had realized:
Balpheron had been chosen by the divinities above.
While at the time it was unclear as to how such a thing could occur, it did not matter, Balpheron led those meager two thousand men to a victory against immeasurable odds. After the victory of the Crossroads, as it was soon to be called, our hero's fame grew and grew, drawing more and more followers out from the blankets and yokes of their former noble masters. His followers became hardened soldiers and took up the title "Sons of Balpheron", as he led them to success after success.
So taken aback by the sudden reprisal of the human resistance, Tyrandar brought together all his forces on a wretched patch of land known as Gar'mal. It was there that the final battle of the First Plague of Undeath occurred. The conflict was long and bloody, and the undead seemed to have taken the upper hand, as with every man who fell, he restored the ranks of the enemy.
It was the arrival of unexpected allies that turned the tide of the battle, the elves and dwarves had come to the aid of this infamous hero, having finally been relieved of the pressure placed on their own lands, they struck out and joined Balpheron's assault. It was during these final moments that Tyrandar himself broke through the lines and sought out this peasant turned hero, killing numerous soldiers in the process.
Balpheron met him head on, charging on his steed. The terrifying scourgelord slew his mount directly from under him. Rising from his fallen friend, the hero assaulted the demon with all his might. Tyrandar grinned maliciously, spinning his mighty ax and sundering his blade in two, sending him reeling. As Balpheron lie on the ground, he gazed up at the sky, the sun was rising. None know what went through his mind during those few moments, but the words he spoke as the demon neared are recorded in every scripture:
'A lifetime is too short to fear the darkness... We must embrace the life and light within ourselves. For even the smallest light, can penetrate the deepest darkness!'
His eyes opened with divine glow, and he opened his palm, never once studying the hidden arts of the magi, and unleashed a ray of light so intense, so powerful that the scourgelord screamed in agony as his entirety was caught in the blast, disintegrating to ash."
The Grand Patriarch looked to the statue, and closed the tome.
"That is why we worship our ancestor. If you will accept my training, I will finish the tale, even though there is little more to know in the regard to history."
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 6:10 am
The party continued silently and swiftly along the streets toward the Tower, it seemed as if the people in the streets fought to keep from staring at them, word had spread through the town like a wildfire of what had happened that very morning, they seemed as though they were invisible and non-existent amongst everyone save themselves. As they trod along the path a small group of children led by a nun stood and stared at the battle-worn group, one of them pointing at Brurag momentarily before being silently chastised and ushered away by the matron.
Erron said quietly. "Perhaps our next destination should be one of the Orc Towns that had been under alleged attack by humans? I can't shake the suspicion that the mercenaries that you described Brurag might have something to do with the recent 'attacks' on Haven and the outlying regions."
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 8:18 am
Kal nodded. "You know, I have a sneaking suspicion that there's a third party. One with humans and orcs, just screwing with both towns. To use prejudices to their advantages. Hoping to eventually pit both towns at each other's throats to weaken them for an eventual takeover," he stated with almost insane easiness. "Just a thought," he added. He followed them, ready for his reward from Selce's mentor.
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 1:53 pm
Selce frowned, she was still angry. She had understood why they were to leave but it still felt wrong. She walked quietly listening to her companions as they went to the Spire. "It is a certain necromancer I think." She said just loud enough for the group to hear before she went silent again. He was a powerful necromancer it wouldn't be too unexpected for him to dominate armed groups and make them attack. As she thought these things she related them out loud. "What do you all think?" She asked wanting their opinions on the rough guess she had made.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2010 2:53 pm
"It is probable," Laren said simply before pointing at the tower, "We have arrived."
((I like keeping things simple haha))
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2010 7:09 pm
As the party proceeded up the stairs to the teleporter Cervantes eyed the bundle in Selce's arms before they widened with awe. "So....You have retrieved it! I had begun to lose hope when night fell, thinking that you had been over taken as- He paused his rambling as the portal beside him pulsed. "*achem* Excuse my ranting, The Arch Mage anxiously awaits your safe return, it is unseemly for me to be the reason you are delayed."
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Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2010 10:30 pm
Tjaden stood to the right and behind the Grand Patriarch, reading over the man's shoulders, even as Beremond's voice rang clear in this hallowed space. Though Tjaden had never been one for formal religious ceremony, he was instantly transported to a place in his mind where Balpheron's words issued forth from the vision of the man himself. This was not just a drab quoting of the teachings of a great warrior or fabled god. Tjaden could feel the pull of each sentence as they reverberated in his head.
"A man...turned god through demonstrating the supreme traits of truth and justice...." Tjaden spoke softly once Beremond was done. He had always been taught that humans believed the spirits where gods where otherworldly beings...supreme and separate from the mortal realm, while Orcs believed that the spirit world was populated by powers originating from their ancestors. Yet, here was clearly displayed an ancestor achieving great spiritual potential. Even among the humans, there was that connection between the world of man and the metaphysical world. Perhaps their faiths were not so different after all....and perhaps they were not as far of the mark as Tjaden's doubt had led him to believe.
"My resolve has waivered, my step faltered, but here, I am lifted again." Tjaden spoke. "Teach me, Grand Patriarch, for their is wisdom in your words that strengthens me."
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 8:19 am
As the party stepped through the portal warm light enveloped them and slowly took them up, the trip was swift and silent, as the group rose higher and higher the spectacle of the town unfolded upon them once more hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of people lived in Haven, all seemed like insignificant ants, but all important parts of the larger system, the bread bakers, the priests, the fishermen, out on the harbor they witnessed what seemed to be a navy exercise in progress. Perhaps they were passing the time, or training in case pirates had the gall to attempt an assault. As the ships jockeyed for position their view was obstructed as they ascended to the ante-chamber of the Tower.
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 8:33 am
Kal stood there, having gone through the portal again. He really didn't care for being nauseous. Yet, he continuosly was thrown into this sickness trap. He smiled at the Arch Mage, glad to be here if he was going to get a reward, as was promised.
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 9:36 am
The Archmage turned from her study at the sound of the teleporter making its subtle noise foretelling the arrival of her guests.
"Ah! I had nearly begun to waver in my judgement for sending you down there. Please tell me everything! I trust you have the Eye?"
* * *
The Grand Patriarch smiled as he nodded at the righteous orc.
"Come, I have one task for you before I finish the tale of Balpheron's ascension."
Beremond stepped away from the altar and led Tjaden down a small corridor, oddly nowhere near as ornate as the rest of the Temple, and said nothing as they approached a very scarred and aged stone door.
"This is your test. It is a ritual that all Sons of Balpheron undergo before becoming Champions... Those who fail typically lose their grasp on reality. It is a regrettable loss, but I can feel the spirit of the king-turned god surrounding you. Every person's experience is different but they all must overcome the darkness within themselves when they walk through this door. Are you ready, Tjaden Sunsui?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 12:53 pm
Brurag walked with pride through the human city, which he had recently discovered was named Haven. Living in the wilderness, he didn't have much knowledge towards the names of cities, unless he planned on plundering them. He smirked a little as he saw a nun shy away in fear of him. Young children gave him frightened looks as some men even went as far as to usher their families inside their homes as the orc passed. Their ignorance disgusted him, but he found his ability to walk freely here quite enjoyable. He though upon the idea of the mercenaries returning and shook his head.
"We killed all of them, maybe a few scouts or sentries escaped, but they would never have regained such strength so fast. Even if they had returned they would never enlist my kind into their ranks. They were strictly all humans, I never even saw a halfling among them. To them my people are slaves, animals. In return for their treatment we slaughtered them as if we were animals. Perhaps a different group of mercenaries, but not the one that killed my kind. No, they are all gone, of this I am certain."
Later, he was quite hesitant to go through the...thing.....he had heard it was called a portal or some strange human word similar to that. He never trusted magic. He understood the ways of the Shaman and their alchemy but that made sense. This human magic disturbed him and he was extremely uncomfortable having to walk into such a thing, only having done so after the others had all gone through it. He knew he would never get used to simply appearing in another room so strangely. He looked up at the female who spoke to the group. He still had no idea what was going on so he let his mind wander to his desire for better equipment.
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 8:55 pm
Tjaden stepped past Beremond and lifted his mammoth, green hand to the roughly hewn, pock-marked door. The stone felt natural, smooth and rather unimpressive beneath his battle-worn skin. The door itself seemed as if it was simply a door, but to Tjaden, it was a hallowed place, he knew it was a sacred place.
When the Grand Patriarch told him what he was to face, his mind raced. He conjured up all the possible dark things that slept within his heart. Whatever his imagination could twist into a stain upon his soul, he thought of it. Even magic could not instill fear into his being and yet this stone door threatened to steal his mind and freeze his body into inaction. With a sharp, reassuring breath, Tjaden looked at Beremond. "I am ready, Grand Patriarch." He said, turning to push on the door. HE paused and then turned. "I don't suppose you could tell me what it is that you saw, when you passed this door?" Tjaden ventured. He knew spirituality was a personal thing, but he also knew that sharing such experiences could impart wisdom to those who followed similar paths.
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 6:49 am
((Anyone remember the cave sort of thing Luke Skywalker had to talk into to become a Jedi? I'm having that flash over right now))
Erron nodded and stepped aside so Selce could pass with the bundle she had been holding all this time
"It seems that whatever the eye is connected with is still alive and well, you wouldn't be able to tell us what the eye really does would you? Its' guardians were particularly powerful and fought tooth and claw to keep it from being taken." He absent mindedly touched a dried scab on his upper arm.
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 9:05 am
The Grand Patriarch was slightly surprised at the inquiry, but made no visible reluctance to answer it.
"My trial sent me to a place of great agony. You see, there has been only two Plagues of Undeath in the history of Atur that we are aware of. The first was during the rise of Balpheron. The second was the world I was born into. My family was slain by ravenous ghouls when I was still a lad. The image of such a grizzly scene is forever emblazoned upon my soul. However, when I entered this chamber, I was sent back to that exact time, my mother and father and sister all there... A lesser scourgelord led the attack against my home town, and the ghouls were beginning their chase of my family when I noticed that a caravan full of women and children were also being pursued a short distance away..."
Beremond paused for a moment and gathered himself.
"I had to make a choice. I had to rescue my family to satiate my own selfishness, or allow them their fate in order to save those numerous children amongst the caravan. It was not until I had saved the caravan that I remembered my own memories that I had blocked out. I was one of the children on that caravan... I had been saved that day by a knight of the order. I had taken his place in this reenactment, and chose to do the righteous thing, by making the most difficult decision of my life, and of no doubt, his as well."
The Paladin gazed at Tjaden as he shook his head.
"This is not a portal to the past, nor is it a true image of what has occurred, but it will feel as such and it will make you believe it as if you were standing right next to those you care about."
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