3. The Kossuthan speaks in public...

The Kossuthan speaks in public...

  • DM

    -Looking still in good spirits Vertus Dahl delivers the same speech recently delivered in Norwick and Jiyyd - in the Common, Civic and Docks district-

    ::Vertus Dahl the Red-Robed Faithful of the Firelord steps forward onto any available vantage and delivers this speech at Highsun just following his prayers::

    To all those gathered here, i bid you greeting. Take heart and warm yourself by the braziers I have erected for you all for the gifts of the firelord are simple, as well as rich in nature.

    :: Vertus surveys the crowd with a satisfied smile as he pushes his hoodback to reveal his strong features and thick black hair ::

    _Troubles surround us all, and it has been said that my lord… our lord of flames - Kossuth is distant, and does not involve himself in worldly affairs. Our lord is indeed of the nature of fire, he is the cleansing flame, the spark of innovation, the tempering force of reason and the heart of all passion.

    With Kossuth at your side and watching over your soul, he will smile on the everyday difficulties of your lives, lives which are ours to live. He does not demand fear or senseless obedience nor does he demand you perform illegal or immorral tasks for his pleasure. Think not of fire as the chotic and senseless destructive force out of your control, nay. Fire has always been the servant of all, and it is only fitting we show devotion to our lord of flames for his supreme gift. The fire that heats your cauldron, your childrens food each day. The fire that is a barrier to the cold in these dark northern lands. To the forge, where the tools and weapons that preserve us and allow us to defend one another there is his home. Our fold of the dwarven race, and Moradin share a great allegiance to Kossuth,and we smile upon them with respect.

    Fire, as i said, is the cleanser, burning away the diseases, and sending the dead on their way with honour and with simplicity. At the end of each season the fires burn down the ends of your crops returning the renewing ash into the earth for a new crop. Think of all the wonders of our realm also - and the new things that come from the forge each day. From the simplest of hinges to your door and the locks that secure you - to the magnificent suits of armour and metal weapons that are all that hold back the destruction all around us.

    Even those that do not realise Kossuth is around them and gifting and rewarding them - now is the time to re-pay your innovation and success. Also, i spoke of the force of reason by which fire has equal and even measure to all. He aids and secures the faithful above all, but does not judge others for their weknesses of failings as individuals simple devotion and reverance to the flame will put you in our lords hands for the higher purposes and his grand plan. Finally all of us, from the richest merchant to the simplest citizen know the heat of passion. From the most flamboyant bard to the parents of every child. There in your chest we all feel the fire of passion, passion of determination and the passion of desire and affection or ambition. It is not for i to speak of for we all know that Kossuth is with us all inside.

    Many of you i know seek that which does not satisfy you in a life of repetition and everyday concerns but seek greater purposes for your own faiths. Remember this that Kossuth smiles and approves greatly of challenges undertaken and in their success as you burn your own way with your own will to the ambition and rightful rewards of your risk, and your effort. Know that Kossuth watches all such trials, and as part of the faith your trials will be not only the most worthy - performed in his name but also the most richly rewarded as Kossuth sees to it that you are rewarded beyond all measure for your guile and determination. Even those who are resolved to their current faith - a word in reverence and prayer to the firelord will aid your success in the fervour and depth of your words.
    So i speak to you again, to those that wish to receive the blessing of the firelord to come forward, or those that want to know more of his favour. You may be blacksmith, merchant, bard arcanist or prospective acolyte to the glorious and exciting faith of the Lord of Flames. Come forward brothers and sisters.... friends i would wish to call you. Embrace the faith of the firelord and remember and give thanks to the fire that has always been at your side and with you each day._

    :: Vertus Dahl - inclines his head and folds his arms inside his simple robe and leans on his humble staff smiling at the crowd around him before speaking further with those approaching him after the speech ::


  • Skyla Vea'Draeven, seen present at many of Vertus Dahl's sermons and talks, seems fascinated with the man's words and stories.

    Though somewhat hessitant at first, she finally makes the decision to seek the man of Kossuth out.

  • DM

    Vertus Dahl, Faithful of the Firelord once again delivers a short speech in public…

    Good folk of the city, worry not about the ice and cold for now - gather around the braziers i have lit for you all and listen well to this story of our lord Kossuth..

    Who can expalin the fascination of fire, what draws us to it, young or old, rich or poor?
    It is our lord Kossuth who draws us into his warmth. He does not see you grow cold in the winters night, soon we will see his braziers everywhere and when you pass by feeling the warmth all around you youwill feel the warmth of Kossuth come into your soul. He has welcomed you as i do now.

    Look with me now into the fire, and remember the times when you were alone or with your family or comrades in arms, gazing into the fire. All have seen patterns in the flame and those close tothe lord of flames will see something gazing back. But fear not, this is not the evil presence of devil or demon, they cannot stand in the face of the divine fire of our lord.

    An old tale comes to mind, from times past tells of a master bard of the land, Irenor, who was trapped inside a burning house, it is said that he emerged completely unscathed and soon after wrote his greatest work inspired by the blessing he recieved from our lord after offering prayers at his time of greatest trial and need. All of you in sometime in the past or at sometime in the future will face serious trials and challenge, these are the greatest love of our lord and by offering prayers and tribute to him you shall inevitably succeed.

    So offer your prayers to the lord of fire snd ask for his comfort in the cold dark places of the land, and he shall surely answer your call as i shall as his humble servant.

    :: Vertus hands round barbequed fresh meets caught in the woodlands to those around him and takes the commoners and noble folk's minds off the recent cold and fear in the area. He then stops for many hours listening to the tales of others that they remember telling around fires and places of warmth in their lives. ::

  • DM

    <crossposted from="" the="" other="" post="">The tale of the first Phoenix from the Preceptory of the Disciples of the Phoenix.

    :: Vertus Dahl, - faithful of the Firelord walks among the districts and sits outside the Bardic College telling the first story of the annals of the Disciples of the Phoenix, the righteous order of Monks of the Firelord. Instead of addressing the crowds, he stands beside a warm brazier placed by the seats and addresses the young children of the city and their parents as they emerge from classes in the college. ::

    :: Although not a natural storyteller, his kindly and friendly manner is for this delivery free of his usual determined zeal for folk to turn to the faith of the Firelord, instead concentrating on the simple wonder of the story. ::

    :: He then makes his way back to Jiyyd and Norwick delivering the story of the Phoenix at the coldest hours of twilight ::

    _"There is a bird that lays no eggs and has no young. It was here when the world began and is still living today, in a hidden, faraway desert spot. It is the phoenix, the bird of fire.

    One day in the beginning of times, the Firelord, Kossuth looked down and saw a large bird with shimmering feathers. They were red and gold and bright and dazzling like the sun itself. Kossuth called out, "Glorious Phoenix, you shall be my bird and live forever!"

    Live forever! The Phoenix was overjoyed to hear these words. It lifted its head and sang, "Glorious firelord, I shall sing my songs for you alone!"
    But the Phoenix was not happy for long. Poor bird, its feathers were far too beautiful. Men, women, and children were always chasing it and trying to trap it. They wanted to have some of those beautiful, shiny feathers for themselves.

    "I cannot live here," thought the phoenix. And it flew off toward the east, where the sun rises in the morning.
    The Phoenix flew for a long time, and then came to a faraway, hidden desert where no humans lived. And there the Phoenix remained in peace, flying freely and singing its songs of praise to Kossuth.
    Almost five hundred years passed. The Phoenix was still alive, but it had grown old. It was often tired, and it had lost much of its strength. It couldn't soar so high in the sky, nor fly as fast or as far as when it was young. "I don't want to live like this," thought the Phoenix. "I want to be young and strong."

    So the Phoenix lifted its head and sang, "Glorious Kossuth, make me young and strong again!" but Kossuth didn't answer. Day after day the Phoenix sang. When he still didn't answer, the Phoenix decided to return to the place where it had lived in the beginning and ask the sun one more time. It flew across the desert, over hills, green valleys, and high mountains.

    The journey was long, and because the Phoenix was old and weak, it had to rest along the way. Now, the Phoenix has a keen sense of smell and is particularly fond of herbs and spices. So each time it landed, it collected pieces of cinnamon bark and all kinds of fragrant leaves. It tucked some in among its feathers and carried the rest in its claws.
    When at last the bird came to the place that had once been its home, it landed on a tall palm tree growing near a circle of stones. Right at the top of the tree, the Phoenix built a nest with the cinnamon bark and lined it with the fragrant leaves. Then the Phoenix flew off and collected some sharp-scented gum, which it had seen oozing out of a nearby tree. The Phoenix made an egg from the gum and carried the egg back to the nest.
    Now everything was ready. The Phoenix sat down in its nest, lifted its head, and sang, "Glorious Kossuth, make me young and strong again!" This time Kossuth heard the song. Swiftly it chased the clouds from the sky and stilled the winds and appeared with all his power. The animals, the unicorns, the basilisks, and every other bird hid from Kossuth's majesty in caves and holes, under shady rocks and trees. Only the Phoenix sat upon its nest and let the power of Kossuth blaze upon its beautiful, shiny feathers.

    Suddenly there was a flash of light, flames leapt out of the nest, and the Phoenix became a big round blaze of fire. After a while the flames died down. The tree was not burnt, nor was the nest. But the Phoenix was gone. In the nest was a heap of silver-grey ash. The ash began to tremble and slowly heave itself upward. From under the ash there rose up a young Phoenix. It was small and looked sort of crumpled, but it stretched its neck and lifted its wings and flapped them. Moment by moment it grew, until it was the same size as the old Phoenix. It looked around, found the egg, and hollowed it out. Then it placed the ashes inside and finally closed up the egg.

    The young Phoenix lifted its head and sang, "Glorious Kossuth, I shall sing my songs for you alone! Forever and ever!" When the song ended, the wind began to blow, the clouds came scudding across the sky, and the other living creatures crept out of their hiding places.
    Then the Phoenix, with the egg in its claws, flew up and away. At the same time, a cloud of birds of all shapes and sizes rose up from the earth and flew behind the Phoenix, singing together, "You are the greatest of birds! You are our king!" The birds flew with the Phoenix to the Temple of the Firelord. Then the Phoenix placed the egg with the ashes inside on the altar.

    "Now," said the Phoenix, "I must fly on alone." And while the other birds watched, it flew off toward the faraway desert. The Phoenix lives there still. But every five hundred years, when it begins to feel weak and old, it flies west to the same circle of stones. There it builds a fragrant nest on top of a palm tree, and there the sun once again burns it to ashes. But each time, the Phoenix rises up from those ashes, fresh and new and young again."_</crossposted>


  • Ocean opens a dull grey eye, from a slumped position on a nearby seat, then decides moving is too much effort and closes it again.


  • Tigaro walks by with his typical grin on his face
    Interesting, hopefully this new spark will bring allong some gold


  • …Gliding about the better parts of the city, Lady Aspera catches the words of the Kossuthan. Even typically pale, all colour drains from her statuesque features as she observes the words of fire with jaundiced, even malicious eyes. She does not wait to hear all of the words, but with a delicate and bored yawn, moves back about the course of business, even if the shards of ice never quite leave her eyes. She takes her malice, and her chill with her, far away from the flaming fanatic...