3. Fury And Faith: Thoughts of a Warpriest

Fury And Faith: Thoughts of a Warpriest


  • _"Here they come!"
    Undead shambled towards the group of crypt raiders, coming out of the darkness of the final room. As they closed in on the group, volleys of magic missiles were launched by undead mages, pinning the living to the walls as they scrambled for what little cover there was. This would not do. There would be no victory this way.

    Gripping his warhammer, he cried out his devotion to the Lord of Battles and charged out into the room. Though magic battered against him, his charge would not be stopped and in moments he had reached the first pair of undead mages. He knocked the skull clean off the first and landed a bone-breaking blow on the other. As the zeal coursed trough him, he chanted the lays of war. He had paved the way and the rest of the group was quick to follow, spreading into the room to engage the multitudes of undead. Two more powerful mages were higher up, near an altar of sorts. From their position, they launched their magic against the advancing warriors, threatening to break the advance. But the will of Tempus will not be denied.

    He broke off from the first group as the others joined the fray and charged up the stairs towards the altar, and towards the undead mage on the left, followed by an overly eager young adventurer. Several of his more experienced allies had followed and split to deal with the mageknight to the right of the altar.

    His own target was formidable. Lightning arced from its hands even while he hammered blow after blow into its unliving form. The eager young one fell to a powerful blast of lightning. He would be honoured for his sacrifice. The next drained the last of his own strength, and he sunk to the floor… his flesh hissing and his armor glowing fiercely.
    "Go on.. without me." was the last he uttered.. and darkness came.

    ...

    And then all was clear again. The mighty hand of Tempus had touched him, and the horns of war blazed trough his soul. He rose to his feet before the surprised and confused undead mage, swung his hammer and knocked the undead mage down the sides of the altar, to fall to pieces on the crypt's stone floor. Victory. They gathered the remains of the fallen and made their way back to Norwick.

    Tempus had refused to let him die, and shown his favor as he had made the willing sacrifice for victory. He knew he was on the right path at last. New insights were revealed, and prayers long forgotten became clear again. When all had gone to rest, he forced his tired self to march to the holy shrine. Whatever the future may bring, today he had earned honour. He prayed there may be many such days to come.

    ((a divine intervention less than a minute after a levelup. It was decidedly, personally epic.))_


  • _I haven't been sleeping much the past few nights. Ever since that .. thing appeared in Norwick I've been having nightmares. I don't know what it is, but I feel it has come to kill me. To drag me to that grey waste again. And I feel I wouldn't be able to stop it if I did.

    The nightmares are usually the same. Abandoned. Alone. Not even Tempus is with me anymore. I run, but no matter how hard and how far I run, it always catches up with me. I can hear it closing on me, I can feel it touch my skin. And then I wake up, dripping in sweat again.

    Do the nightmares mean anything? Is it just mind magic? It's been days since I saw it, but they still keep coming. Did it curse me somehow? And why? Why is it after me?_


  • _Haven't found Mia yet. I hope she's alright. I apologized to Maya, but she didn't see any reason to punish me. I don't know if I should feel relieved or not. A big part of me feels the need to be punished for what I did, and to earn the forgiveness. Not just to get it freely.

    I'm staying in Norwick for the most part. There's no real war happening here though. I join raids and patrols when I can, and I drag as much information on the Legion out of Val as I can get. I hope I'll be made a full Private soon, so I'll be able to enter the tower and salvage what pieces of history I can put together. It sounds like there's no recorded history of what the Legion's history, which is something that should be made. I'm not much of a reader, but if there aren't any books, statues or banners to hold this history, it'll be lost. As a Legion chaplain, and as Warpriest, I can't let that happen.

    Most of the Legionaires I've met so far don't even seem that excited about the Legion. They salute, they recruit, they fight, but they seem to lack the fire I was hoping to find. I remember the demons in Jiyyd, and I remember the Legion's part in it. Maybe they won't admit it, but it feels like most of them do feel guilt about it, even those who weren't involved. Being part of the Legion now, I know I do. I can't do anything about the demons right now, but with Val's help I could try and do something about the lack of fire.

    Speaking of which. Ever since I returned, it feels like there's been a white flame burning inside me. It's a constant whisper, an itch that's there. It keeps pushing me on, keeps me focused on what I'm doing, and keeps me looking around. Most of all, it keeps me calm. I don't feel the restlessness I once did. Maybe I'm not yet where I could be, or should be. But I feel that I'm doing fine where I am now, and I'll get wherever I should be as long as I keep this calm and focus. Tempus, give me the strength and wisdom to succeed._


  • _I'm alive again. I don't remember that much, but I remembered enough to get going again. I settled things with Aelthas for now, though I still don't know what exactly I did to make him kill me in the first place. I insulted his wife, apparantly. If so, I should apologize to her.

    I should find Maya too.

    I found Val and she convinced me to join the Legion. I still don't have everything figured out yet, but I trust Val. She's one of the two people closest to me and Tempus favors her. And she's smart. If she says I should join the Legion, I believe her. She was assigned to train me too, and I have a lot to learn again. Good thing I still remember much of my old training. I hope everything will work out.

    Aelthas also gave back my things. I don't remember owning everything, but I do remember the armor, the hammer and the axe. And my pendant of Tempus. Wearing it always made me feel more secure.
    Wearing this armor is strange. It was old and worn when I bought it, and it hasn't gotten prettier. But it's been with me for years now, and I hope it will be with me for a longer time. It may not be the best armor around, but it's my armor. And nobody else will understand the things we've seen and done together._


  • _It's getting difficult to remember faces, and details. Things I know I've seen but can't remember what they look like. I know my name but I don't remember when I chose it, or why. I remember some things and how they made me feel, but it's all dulled. A few things stay sharp though, I don't know why. Some parts of my training in the temple. A few things from battles I fought in. Prayers and chants. Maybe that's all that's going to be left of me. Nothing but training and experiences and of past battles, given to Tempus.

    …

    This can't be the end. I made mistakes, but for it all to end like this.. I'm not ready. Life is too short as it is, and there's a lot more to see and do. There's a lot more I have to see and do. When I'm finally good and ready, I'll know it. I'm not ready yet. I have to find a way back. I -will- find a way back.

    Even if it kills me. Hah!_


  • Contemplation

    I'm starting to forget things. People's faces. Names. Places I know I've been but remember less and less of. It's like this place is leeching them from me somehow. Maybe I'm staying here too long, and this is what it's like for Kelemnvorans when they die. Just like the memories of them start to fade in the living world, they'll start losing memories of their own lives. And sooner or later they won't remember anything and there will be just this grey nothingness forever. I'm not a Kelemenvoran though. Why is it happening to me?

    I don't know why Tempus hasn't come to claim me yet. I know I wasn't much of a warpriest, but I had faith. Everyone makes mistakes. I tried my best, and that has to count for something, right?

    Or maybe it's my own fault. People pass trough all the time, and their own gods or servants of those gods come to claim them. Just like that dwarf that went to Chauntea. A dwarven farmer, that's not something you'd expect. One of them, I can't remember, did say she had done a lot of things in her life. But she was all ready to to let go. I'm not sure if I am.

    Maybe that's why I'm starting to lose my memories. After a while, I won't remember anything of my life anyway and I won't have anything tying me to it anymore. I'll be ready to move to the Halls because I wouldn't know any different.

    So what am I still hanging on to? What's holding me back from letting go?

    ….

    I thought I was ready to die, and I'm not sure it could have gone any other way. But now that I'm here, I miss things. I miss being alive, and everything that comes with it. I miss the food, I miss the drinks, the feeling of my heart beating, the rain on my face and the wind in my hair. I don't miss that many people, but I do miss Val and Mia. The Halls would probably have their share of good-looking women of all sorts. Wouldn't be my kind of afterlife if it didn't, but it probably wouldn't have Mia. Val after a while, probably, but I might never meet her there. The Halls would have drinks and food too but.. they wouldn't be 'real'. Just things thrown in that resemble the good things in life, to make the afterlife more of the paradise it should be. The whole thing doesn't make me feel at peace. The more I think about it, it doesn't even give me the feeling of happiness it should. Fark, I'm a demanding bastard.

    ....

    I had some good battles. I try to remember them, but I know that the Rest will have a lot more of them, and they'll be so much more better than anything I could get into while living. Tempus, please don't think bad of me for thinking this, but I don't think battle and war are what makes life worth living. Not anymore. Sure, they're a big part of life and I wouldn't have become a warpriest if I didn't think they played a big part, or if I didn't enjoy them for what they are. But there's more to life than that. Damn, why didn't I see that before?

    ....

    Tempus, I have faith. I always did, even when I didn't have any faith in myself. I know I question you as much as anything, but I know you will always be there. Not for me, per se, but you're the one thing that'll never fade or leave. You're not always making it easy for me, but nothing easy is worth doing. I've said that a few times to others, and now it comes around to bite me. It hurts, but the truth does that. I don't expect you to answer, to hold my hand or do anything I won't do for myself. I know you're still listening and watching me, you always have. You didn't step in when I wanted you to, but when I needed it.

    ....

    Nobody would remember me if I just let go. Not for long, anyway. I wouldn't leave behind much of anything either. Not of myself, not for Tempus. So my whole life would just have been a complete waste. Maybe I did some good in small ways but ..

    Why do I care about 'doing some good'? I'm not that sort. Why give a sheite about the looks those so-called heroes get when they move around. You know the look, the kind that people get when they regularly bleed and suffer for others. The kind that people give when they know they're not alone out there.

    Why would you want to be a hero anyway? It's not like something, someone saved you and your mother for some reason you still can't see one time.

    Well fark. Sigh.


  • Remembrance

    Days, months, years now.. time doesn't mean anything here. Just the same grey wasteland, filled with ruins, that goes on forever. No mountains. No rivers. No dawns. No dusks. No rain. No wind. No water. No fire. No weapons. No armor. No food. No hunger. No dreams. No sleep. No music. No joy. No friends. No foes. No family.

    Everything that life has, this does not.
    And I have nothing but the memories I brought with me.

    _He can wrap his fingers around my entire hand, and still have so much room. He stands besides me and lays out the pieces again. He is a giant, I'll never be that tall and strong. I touch every piece, and before my hands start my mind has already put the watermill together. Dad smiles and lifts me up and holds me so high, cheering me on. I can hear the noise of the market outside our door, and I can smell mum's cooking. Almost time for dinner.

    I am 9 years old. Three months from now, the war will start and everything will change.

    Wish I were with you but I couldn't stay
    Every direction leads me away
    Pray for tomorrow but for today
    And all I want is to be home

    We watch the lessons of the sword-abbot. We listen to the teachings of The Foehammer. My hand grips the handle of the battlaxe. My arm hefts the weight of the shield. They are so heavy, but I won't let go. He talks about the honour of serving, and the glory we will earn in battle. The others shout cries of war and promises of death to our city's enemies. I think of mother's tears as I stubbornly left. I think of father's angered shouts.

    I am 15 years old. Tomorrow I will desert, and everything will change.

    Stand in the mirror you look the same
    Just looking for shelter from the cold and the pain
    Some want to cover, safe from the rain
    And all I want is to be home

    The desert is hot and otherwordly. The cliffs are made of strange stone, and sand giants are charging again. The others are ready to break but I raise my voice and shout prayers to Tempus. I shout rallying cries. I shout louder than the desert wind, louder than the burning sun and louder than the roars of the giants. The others hear and we charge together. I see the giants fall one by one. I am as strong and tough as father. Then I see the last one swinging harder and faster at me than I can dodge or soak. I die on another world.

    I am 19 years old. A few weeks from now, constant defeat will begin to gnaw at me, and everything will change.

    Echoes and silence, patience and grace,
    All of these moments I'll never replace
    No fear of my heart, no absence of faith
    And all I want is to be home

    The scar on my shoulder burns, where the Bloodreaver ran me trough. He beat me down again and again for sport. Never before have I seen my own weakness this clearly. Never before have I thought I should avoid a place. Never before have I thought I should fear someone. Never before have I understood so well why Tempus grants courage to the weak.

    I am 21 years old. It is only a few months before the Bloodreaver attacks again, and everything will change.

    People I've loved, I have no regrets
    Some I remember some I forget
    Some of them living some of them dead
    And all I want is to be home

    A full moon shines down on my pointless stand. I know I should apologize, but it is too late now. There are no horns, no drums, no welcome into the halls of heroes. The stubborn pride, the frustration, the fear, the doubt flow from me with my blood. The pain fades as I come to accept how far I have run. Away from duties, difficult truths and myself.
    A hated enemy teaches what no friend could, but I am tired of hate and rage.

    I am 24 years old. I do not know what will happen, nor if everything will change.

    But I have.

    ((Foo Fighters - Home))_


  • @bb5e98530e=Archon_Prime:

    (…)finally decides to do to me what he doesn't have the balls to go and find my father for. (..)

    ((OOC note: I was made aware that some people felt this was a slap to their face. I know that Dentin only survived to escape Narfell at all because an OOC block was placed on killing him. I didn't realise this as I posted the entry, and I apologise to anyone who feels OOC offended.

    Things happened as they happened, and I generally just go with it. These entries are all IC, though never meant to OOC smirk/mock/otherwise offend anyone))


  • _Days are passing and still no sight of Aelthas. This isn't any good. All the waiting has me thinking again, starting to look for ways to beat him, and starting to hope. This won't do. Aelthas is meant to kill me and I'm meant to die. I won't just roll over, but I can't hope for anything else but a good fight and a quick death. If I start thinking about winning, I'll start thinking about surviving.

    I've heard about warriors called "Forlorn Hopes". Most of them are murderers, traitors, refugees and generally people with nothing left to fight for but death in battle, and hopefully the redemption that Tempus offers with that. Have I become one of those? I don't know if I have anything to be redeemed for, but if I don't, why am I this eager to die. Winning against Aelthas, no matter how smart or hard I fight, is probably impossible for me. If I was more powerful it might not be, but I'm not.
    And Tempus teaches to retreat from an impossible battle.

    Am I a coward for giving up on trying to win? I don't see any way I can win and keep my battle honour. Either I go against what Tempus teaches, or I need to fight in a dishonourable way. There really is no perfect way to do things. No perfect battle.

    Still, I'll go out doing what I do best: standing my ground and dying on my feet. I don't fear dying, I've done enough of it that it's lost most of the scare. I only fear Aelthas not finishing it. He HAS to have at least that much honour in him, to finish what he starts. If he puts his sword trough me, it's just my body that dies. If he refuses to do it, I know it will kill everything that I am.

    Tempus, I know that you hear my prayers and I know that you read this. If.. When Aelthas wins the battle, let him kill me. Let me earn redemtion in death for whatever sins I might have done._


  • _People say Maya got possessed by a drow whip, and she believes it. She was jailed for it. The guards told me to stay away, and she told me to come. So ended in a cage of my own, and she was still wounded and weak.

    They let her out, and they let me off with a fine. She really believes what they told her. So I got myself caged again, risking being locked up for longer than I could handle, for a Champion whose mind is easily swayed, who'll walk on her toes to avoid kicking anyone in the shins and who'd rather admit defeat, grovel and run off rather than seeing things trough, even if they're mistakes. And -that-'s the CHAMPION?

    Aelthas challenged me to a fight to the death over a song I sang about Lycka. As if I'm the only one singing lewd songs about her. At least I have the balls to do it to his face. Besides, if she's that insulted, why didn't she challenge me herself? She's not exactly a weak kitten. Or is she pregnant for the dozenth time? Chauntea, why is it always the idiots that are the breeders?

    He challenges me when I'm in prison, and when I'm out and I'm ready to answer his challenge (thought I'd delay until the next full moon. I know Tempus watches every fight, but the poor sod doesn't have that comfort with his own goddess), he suddenly has better things to do. He said he'd deal with me when he "gets out". Out of his own ass?

    What a farking waste. I had my mind set on that fight. I was ready for it, ready to fight and die. If it has to happen, I just want to get it over with, not wait until he's finally tired of taunting and torturing me, and finally decides to do to me what he doesn't have the balls to go and find my father for.

    So now what? Start building that cabin I want, only to never finish it? Maybe I'll just read trough this thing and see if looking back leads to anything new._


  • _Guard's Song
    Performed live, for Random Peltarch Guard, in Peltarch Gaol

    Oh, look he's oh-so-pretty. He's the prettiest girl in town.
    Dancing around in his big green dress, and nothing under there.
    He likes the big barbarians with hair on teeth and tool.
    He likes it when they tickle him right inside his mool!_


  • _Lycka's Song
    Performed live, for Aelthas, in the Peltarch Gaol

    Oh, I took the silver wolfgirl, like all the doggies do.
    I took her once, and once again, and now he thinks they're his!
    She only wants a real man, and not a farkin' loon..
    She wants a bear to do her right, and not a farkin' moon!"_


  • _I haven't had this much fun in a while. It's as if the doubts and questions I had were suddenly wiped from my mind, and I finally understood how meaningless they were.

    First a band of harpies attacked the gates in Norwick. They were wailing, screaming and mostly dying. For a moment I almost felt bad for them, but then it passed. I then realised that they weren't really attacking, but more fleeing from something. So a group of us decide to head south into the forest for a good while to find out what they were fleeing from.

    We came across a group of harpies, wyverns and chimaera's fighting each other. It was a great free-for-all and we joined right in. Those chimaera spikes can really hurt, but we all lived trough it. I even walked away with a nice new gauntlet, and best of all, the tail stinger of an enormous wyvern. My best trophy so far.

    I thought it couldn't get much better than that, but when we returned to Norwick and night fell a group of vampires decided to attack. Most of them weren't too much trouble. One vampire mage was tougher but it turns out my new gauntlet can do some fun things; deaf mages can't hear what they're trying to cast. The toughest one was a master archer with acid arrows, that melted anyone that took one step out of the gate into a green puddle. Alestra died, even though I tried my best to keep her alive; that acid ate her faster than I ever could. Too bad. After another hour of being played with people finally started to take my advice to move further into town, with more light and high ground. Vampire didn't follow us in though. Smart.

    For the first in a long time I feel, not just know, why I chose to serve Tempus. Even trough the chimaeras and the vampires, I never felt fear. I took cover when I was taking too much, I fell back when I had to but I never felt fear. I felt excitement I haven't felt in a long time. I felt Tempus' eye watching over me, and His hand pushing me forward.

    Now to find a roasted boar, a crate of ale and Mia for the perfect ending for a perfect day._


  • _"You change your mind often."
    "My mind is a ship lost in a storm, and I don't see any lighthouse."

    I don't know where that came from, but it's true. I left the Academy to learn what I'm not ready to teach yet, but most of all to find myself. I just don't have any idea where to look. I joined Uljas' smashers for a while, and he has a good cause to fight for. But it's not my cause. I can't really be a warpriest when I don't truly, fully believe in the worth of the fight. A warpriest keeps his brother warriors believing in the worth of the fight, even when all hope of winning seems lost. But how can I do that when I don't really believe to begin with? Why did Tempus even make me a Warpriest?

    When Uljas explained why he came to Narfell, I kept on thinking back to the giant warrior that saved mother and me from the demons in Jiyyd. That seems so long ago now, and I've lost a lot of memories. But that one never fades. What does it mean? Does Tempus want me to fight demons? Does He want me to protect the weaker? Hells, even if He told me what I'm supposed to fight, would I be able to do it without worrying?

    I hate these doubts. There's warriors who don't drink or go with women because they say it clouds the mind, but these doubts are so much worse. It feels like there's a ton of rocks on my chest, pinning me down._


  • _I pulled myself together enough to go trough with the opening of the Academy, and it went pretty well. It actually gave me the hope the Academy could turn out just fine. But now Vladimir is turning into an even bigger idiot than he already is. How am I supposed to teach people that life isn't to be taken at a whim,
    that it's something you can't rebuild or undo, and that it's absolutely wrong to kill a man when he's helpless, or sleeping. Or to use poison or disease, when he constantly argues that it's fine to do whatever it takes to earn victory. More than that, he spouts this nonsense right in front of the few Initiates we have.
    He can crawl back into his cave along with the drow if he thinks that I have to tolerate him corrupting the Academy's soul until we're training murderers and assassins. He's not that valuable, and I didn't come all this way to put up with this sheite.

    Things like this make me want to go trough with the church of war idea I talked about with Val. At least nobody would argue that we'd train warriors. How can you even talk about morals and believes without considering the gods? They're the ones who give us the different paths of morals to follow, and there's a hell of a lot of them. They're not all right, but there's still enough for anyone.

    And to top it all, I haven't had a good battle in longer than I can imagine. The drow attacked Norwick but one of the first arrows caught me in the leg and took me out of the fight. So I missed that. I don't know what Tempus is trying to tell me with this. Not that it was all that important to me, but it would have been a chance to earn glory for myself and Him. All I ended up with was a few words before it started. What a farking waste._


  • _Everything is turning bland. It started when I was first thrown into that prison, and I thought it would pass but it didn't. And now everything is turning bland. Food and drinks don't taste as good as they used to. Rain doesn't feel as good as it did. Even being with Mia doesn't leave me with the satisfaction it did before. It feels like my soul is starving, and all these things are only crumbs and drops.

    I try to focus on the Academy, on doing what I started. But it's getting harder and harder, and I worry more about it every day. I worry if I'm up for it and I worry if it'll work as I once hoped it would. But it's just something I cling to by my nails to stop me from falling over.

    My soul craves battle, needs it. And not just endless hunts or raids too, but true battle. Desperate, meaningful battle where nothing else matters. The kind of battle where you no longer expect to survive. Last time I felt that was in the gnoll woods, and nothing since then. I don't know what scares me most; the fact that I'm turning into a war addict or the fact this isn't bloodlust. If it was bloodlust, I could temper it, I could learn to handle it. But I don't know how to handle this. Meaningful battles don't come as easy as just walking out the gates and cutting down dozens of orcs, or kobolds, or whatever.

    On one hand I just want to be left alone. I want to build a cabin or get a tent somewhere out of the way, and hunt and fish and just live in peace. I can almost stand the craving when I'm alone (or with Mia. She's quiet, she's nice and she doesn't complain and whine about useless sheite).
    But on the other hand, I'm a warpriest. I'm supposed to deal with people.

    Tempus, where do I go? What do I do? Who am I?_


  • _"Time to retreat!" he heard them shout over the sharp clanging of metal on metal, over the dull snap of breaking bones and the tearing of flesh, but it was already far too late for that. Gnolls were pouring over the group in an endless wave, the small group unable to hold the tide back. They moved as one endless blur of axes, fangs and dirty fur. It was too late for an organised retreat, and the whole group would likely be picked apart if it turned into a rout. Death grinned and the crows would have a feast today. But not yet.

    Wherever he was, which side he was on and what he was fighting became irrelevant, as did the reason to live to see tomorrow. There was only here and now. He banged his warhammer on his shield as he lost sight of his allies and another wave of dogmen surged forward. He was not going to live trough this, and the knowledge gave him peace. As he smashed his hammer and shield wherever they would land, breaking limbs and ribs, he felt no fear or doubt. He chanted the Song of the Sword under his heavy breathing as he drove deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless horde of howling, gnashing monsters. He vaguely recognized the terrible damage the axes were doing to his armor, and he vaguely felt the giant scythe of the packmother cleaving trough his back plate, tearing flesh free from his bones.

    But there was no pain. The more desperate his fight became, the lighter his soul fell, the louder the Song pounded in his ears and the brighter the glorious light of Tempus shone in his eyes. And when his traitorous body finally gave up, unable to go on, there was both fury and peace behind his eyes. This was a good death._


  • _I'm starting to figure it out. Or at least, I didn't go insane. After being kicked out of prison I did some mercenary work for a while, mostly around Oscura. The pay was fairly decent and people left me alone. I didn't feel like a priest anymore though, and I didn't pretend to be one. Until one night I was talking to Chea, and everything started falling together again. I never really cared what I fought for. The moments I felt truly at peace, when I felt true faith and the hand of Tempus on my shoulder were during those few strange battles I've seen. The one in the shadow plane, the one on the desert world and the one on the fire plane. Funny that non of them took place in this world, but it still thought me enough. They were places that were incredibly dangerous, were just about everything was out to kill us and the stakes were high. There was no chance to retreat. It might have felt desperate to others at times but things never felt that real. There was only then and there. Nothing else mattered.

    Since then the prayers and teachings are all coming back. I'm not entirely sure what it all means but I know it's these moments I live for, and the rest of my time should be spent preparing for these moments. So I raid and gather gold for now. I'll get some better armor for myself, I'll save up for a real temple. Ormpur still feels like a good location, but I'll have to clear out the undead there and the demons on the way there. There's also that ruined tower halfway into the pass. Wouldn't make for such a bad place either, but those gypsies might have something to say about it.

    Side note: I whine too much. Stop whining._


  • _One more month is what they told me. One more month until they let me out, and I still don't know what to do with it. Where to go, what to do. I have to spend two years in prison to get right back where I was. At least before I knew I was a priest of Tempus, even though I didn't know what that meant. Now, I don't know if I'm even that anymore. How did I even get to being a priest of Tempus?

    I only remember a few things of those days. I remember leaving Peltarch, and father left me and my mother in the N'Jastan camp. And then he was off to fight, just like that. I guess he felt he did enough to make sure we wouldn't get in the way of whatever crusade he was on.
    We didn't live there long either. A few weeks in, someone opened the gates and demons started pouring out, tearing apart everyone around. People screaming, burning, beaing torn apart. Strange things howling in the night as they ripped trough unprepared soldiers and servants. My mother took my hand and we ran, we ran. My chest was burning and still we ran. And then I tripped. I thought I was dead for sure, I could feel them chasing us. And just when I thought it was all over, a giant came out of nowhere. I never did see his face. All I remember was the the massive armor with a glowing symbol on it.. a burning sword. I didn't know it back then, but it must have been a warpriest of Tempus. He stood between us and the demon.. it was even bigger, twice as large, with horns, and wings the size of a house.. and they fought. I crawled up to my feet and mother pulled me along. I never did look back, I never did find out who won. I never saw that giant again though.

    A little later we were in N'Jast. Father had made it back along with a few soldiers, and they got busy building and preaching right from the start. He never had any time for me and mother anymore. I don't remember much at all, just that there was a temple in N'Jast, full of soldiers that had the same symbol as the giant on their armor and shields. One of the priests told me about Tempus, and what sort of god Tempus is. He's a free god, who fights, hunts, feasts.. I didn't want to become a craftsman. I know my father wanted me to, but I didn't. So I had to escape. I joined the clergy and escaped from N'Jast. I even had to leave mother behind. Now, I wish I hadn't. It feels like she was the only person who really cared about me. Hells, in the years since I've left N'Jast, I don't know if there's been anyone else. Father may have cared when we still lived in Peltarch, but after the war he had changed too much.

    I used to be happy running from it all. But now I've been stuck in one place too long and it's all catching up with me. And now I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know if there's anything worth staying here for, and I don't know what's worth seeing or doing elsewhere. If Tempus wants me to fight for what I believe.. well, I don't know what I believe. Or even if Tempus wants me at all anymore.

    What the hells happened to me?"_


  • _Tiny green men are coming out of the walls, out of the stone floor. They crawl around, into my ears. They're everywhere, and they're watching me. They talk to me too, sometimes. I can hear them scraping in the walls. I can feel them moving in my ears.

    Tiny green men._