A Preaching...

[Ace-of-Spades]

_A middle-aged man, wrapped in a hooded black cloak makes his way to the park in Oscura. He is accompanied a man to his left and right, both dressed and armored in the garments of the black hand. Both body guards station themselves on either side of the hill while the man removes his black cloak and hangs it from the statue. He turns to reveal a pale, aged face, marked with old scars on either cheek, his hair jet black, slicked back, with streaks of silver and white flowing from his temples. His long flowing robes are eye-catching. Dark, ebony as the blackest hole in the underdark they seem to suck the very light and warmth out of the surrounding lights in Oscura. Laced throughout the robe are bright fluorescent green streaks and patterns, seeming to burst like rays right from the oily black cloth.

Few would recognize his face, so rare is it he is ever seen without his dark ominous helmet, but many can venture a guess that this is Allanon Leonsin, the Oscuran priest of Bane.

He produces a black leather tome from within his robes and opens it within one hand as he address the citizens of the underground city._

Citizens of Oscura! Friends, brothers, sisters, fellow oath-takers, heed my words this day, for they may save your soul.

Serve no one but Bane. Fear him always and make others fear him even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down those who stand against it in the end. Defy Bane and die - or in death find loyalty to him, for he shall compel it. Submit to the word of Bane as uttered by his ranking clergy, since true power can only be gained through service to him. Spread the dark fear of Bane. It is the doom of those who do not follow him to let power slip through their hands. Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities.

My friends, this is the dogma of Bane. Tell me…where will you be and who will you give prayer to in your final hour? The Dark Lord is just, and he will reward those deserving, those loyal to him. Through this loyalty he will grant you salvation, in the stead of endless torment in the afterlife. Do you wish to burn forever in the fires of the hells, tortured by devils? Pledge yourself to the Dark Lord, and he will spare you, for he is the way. Bane is the one, almighty god. In the end, it is before him that you will face your final judgment. Do wise to stand with him, obedient and faithful, than to be foolish and stand against him. For he will punish those who oppose him, and Bane hath no mercy. Do not forsake the Dark Lord, for his power is great, and knows no bounds. You cannot escape the Black Hand, and those who try will all stand before him in the end, defeated and broken. But…as I said, Bane is a just god, and he will reward those loyal to him. Pray your service to Bane in life, and find that your endeavors will be blessed. He can grant you power and wealth, and most importantly of all…deliverance, yet he only asks for obedience! I know this, for I have seen it. It is a small price to pay to save your soul.

I speak the word of Bane, my friends. Heed them! For Dark Lord will have you, one way or the other. As I walk down these streets I see the faces of our people, I gaze into their souls and find nothing but pain and torment awaiting them. Do not let this be you! I can save you; the Dark Lord’s embrace can save you from this fate! Come to the Temple of Caverns and join my brothers and I in prayer. Pledge your loyalty to Bane!

The priest pauses, his jaw set, dark eyes scanning those gathered. He makes sure he sees them all, his gaze piercing. He suddenly snaps shut the leather tome and returns it to the confines of his robe. Taking his cloak from the statue and draping it over his black and green gauntleted arm, he strides from the park his bodyguards in tow. He disappears up the dark streets, leaving the mass to whisper and mutter to one another.