3. Fury And Faith: Thoughts of a Warpriest

Fury And Faith: Thoughts of a Warpriest


  • He looked up to the massive statue, and it looked down at him. It seemed so lifelike; it almost looked like it was about to step down from the stones it was standing on to go wage war somewhere. The shrine to Tempus had turned out to be a true marvel. Not quite a true temple-barracks but a shrine worthy of the Lord of Battles. Even though it was meant to honour those who fought in the N'Jast war – on both sides, though this was a public secret - such are the ways of Tempus -- the location meant little to him. However, looking at the statue made him feel closer to Tempus than he ever could - outside of true and glorious battle - to the point where he found himself talking to the statue's stone facade.

    _Tempus, it's been an interesting few weeks. Perhaps not to You, but they were to me. I was unmade Legion chaplain, right as I was about to officially be made Legion chaplain. It close to shattered my dedication to the Legion, but then again.. it's just a title, a word. Doesn't change what I can do; though I had to rethink my strategy. I'm still working it out.

    Saria seems to have left again. I hope she's alright, though it does simplify things. And with Mia now having found Del, or Del having found Mia, I've spent more time with Sol lately than I thought possible a few weeks ago. She's really growing on. I even start to feel bad about her lion, which I didn't really care about before. I know she's slowly wearing down my defense, and I'm not sure I should stop it. My faith and dedication to you is a defense she hasn't quite cracked yet though, my Lord.

    Tempus, I thank you for continuing to grant me strength and courage, and guide me trough battle. Ever since I had a part – a small part, but still -- in destroying that enormous demon spider, new rites and prayers have become clear to me, and I intend to use them well. My skill with my axe is also improving. Enemies are becoming easier to counter and defeat.

    At the moment, things are going well, so I have nothing in particular to pray for, aside from continued strength and courage. However.. I do pray that you would send Your Champion, Maya, this way again. She started building this shrine long ago, and she deserves to see it now that it's finished. I pray that you are pleased with her work, and my own help at building it._


  • He traced his heavy, calloused fingers over her soft skin as she slept peacefully. It had been a good night, and despite what may happen in a few hours, right now there was peace and quiet. He knew that above all mortals, he loved Mia, Saria and Sol the most.
    Mia had always been a haven, where he could run and hide when things became too much. His oldest friend.
    Saria was full of passion. She was not always easy to love, but he loved her all the same. Perhaps moreso because of her nature.
    Sol was caring and soft. He often felt he would break her if he wasn't careful, she seemed so fragile.

    _I'm still growing, still learning. If I look back on how I felt a while ago – and not without reason -- I can still see how much I have to learn. I'm not as strong or resilient as I should be. But, if I want to be.. will that mean I have to close myself off to everyone? That sounds very lonely.

    The Legionaire in me would say that I should balance things. Never get carried away, keep my mind and stay focused. But deeper than that, I feel I should live fiercely. Fight fiercely. Love fiercely, and with no regret. The pain Cara caused me is fading; I can actually look at her now without feeling my blood boil. At the time, it felt so terrible though. As if it was something that'd change me forever. Maybe I'm more resilient than I thought. Though, Sol and Saria are helping a lot. They have such nice ways to keep me distracted.

    Even though I promised myself I wouldn't ever again, I can't help loving them, just like I love Mia. I think about them, I worry about them, and I care about them. And they're convincing me they care about me. If this turns out to be a lie, then.. it would hurt. And I'd heal. And that gives me the courage to let them get this close; the knowledge that even if they'd abuse my trust I'd survive and grow past it. Still, I pray they won't.

    Saria and Sol both want to marry me, but.. I can't decide. And would it even be fair? My oath to Tempus and my devotion to Narfell and the Legion are difficult enough, but to add a wife or wives into that? Tempting, but hardly smart. Divided loyalties can lead to a lot of trouble. Besides, despite my love for them, I don't feel the overwhelming, all-consuming passion for them that Roisian told me about. Do I love them? Yes. If Aelthas would lose Lycka, he would probably be destroyed. Would losing Saria or Sol destroy me? No. It would hurt, but it wouldn't destroy me.

    Tempus, I thank you for steeling my heart and soul. In You I have faith, and trough You, I have faith in myself. I pray you never stop being the father I never had._


  • The candles in the tower's Hall of Honours bathed the room in a dimmed light. A place he had created to honour the Legion's victories and honoured fallen, to store relics and tomes and to reflect. Most of all, it was his sanctuary, a strong bulwark against the whimsical cruelties of the world. Here, there was stability and peace. Here, there was purpose and reason. Here was eternity.

    He had spent the past hours methodically cleaning his armor. Dents and rends had self-repaired themselves over time, the magic in the armor ensuring it would always be in pristine condition. Only when every chain and every plate had been polished until it shined like glass was he content.
    He then assembled the hard-earned armour on the stand, and annointed it with sacred oils, blessed by Tempus to ensure the purity of the armour, and to appease its spirit. Perhaps it would be considered somewhat strange by most for a priest to consider spirits, but Tempus teaches that every armor and every weapon has its own spirit, that retains part of its wielder long after they had died and rotten away. When it was done, he stood and watched the armour, running a hand on the clear engravement on the left shoulder plate; "Duty Calls Us. Honour Guides Us. Faith Shields Us."; and thought on many things..

    _If it wasn't enough for Cara to try and drive a dagger into my heart, now she has to twist the blade by spreading something I told her in trust. I cannot trust her ever again, but at least I don't have to suffer her in the Legion anymore. Still, her betrayal already had some obvious consequences. Saria returned, for whatever reason, and now she claims I used her and discarded her. Because she had to learn from Cara what she never even asked me. And even though I reached out and tried to talk to her for an entire night, she still seems intent on … something that involves me caring more than I should. I won't even bother to find out anymore. These past days have only confirmed what I already knew, and I learned my lesson well. I won't let myself ever be left open by the weakness of trust given far too easily again. There are only two who have truly earned it, and who I'll keep giving it, even though I fear what they may do with it.

    Tempus, I pray you will push these treasonous thoughts from my mind, that I may never doubt you. I pray that you may also strengthen me, not to indulge in the weakness that is easy trust. I pray that you watch over Mia, who has never betrayed me. I pray she never does._

    He then chanted the Lays of War, the deep, droning tones and the steady rhytm pushed doubts and fears from his mind, steeling and envigorating his soul. The lyrics came to him naturally, Tempus placing them in his mind though they were in a tongue he didn't understand. But there was strength in them all the same, and he know their meaning. They called for a purge of all weakness, that a warrior could know strength beyond strength, and challenge the greatest foes. They called for courage unbound, which not even the greatest horror could chain. Most of all, they called the fury from the depths of his soul, until he felt it course trough his limbs. Long prayer and meditation had thought him focus, and even though he felt its power roar trough him, he would not lose himself to it. It was soothing, as if he was standing in the eye of Tempus' storm. Nothing could touch him here.

    Nobody could hurt him here.


  • _Saria left and followed what's left of her tribe north. Just like that, the wind turned again and she decided to leave. And only hours after she told me she wouldn't pull a Cara on me. How ironic.
    Now there's only Sol and Mia left for people I feel good being around. Sol's not always easy to understand though, and I haven't seen Mia in months. At this rate, I'm going to be out of mortals I feel comfortable with very soon. All the others I know, Rith, Fadia, Rain,.. there's always something that puts me off about them. They don't need me and I have nothing to offer them.

    On the upside, at least I was involved in two good raids. One against gnolls and one into a strange tower across the icelace. There's a lot less gnolls now, and there's a good amount of constructs gone as well._


  • _Bah, women. Or maybe it's my own fault.

    Cara turned to Sune, and she told me she had feelings for me. That she wanted to be more than just friends. It took me some time to get over the shock of it, but after a few days I was beginning to accept it. I was even beginning to like the idea. Seeing those people around with relationships, nice and stable, and seeing the depth of those relationships I always felt that I was missing something. I was beginning to feel that Cara could give that to me.

    And now, all of a sudden the wind turned and she thinks it's a bad idea. She can't even tell me why. It's not like she doesn't know who I am, or what sort of life I've lived so far. I was all ready to change it. But now she's saying she doesn't want it, that she made a mistake. And then she left me hanging, just like that. I don't know what I did wrong, or what I did to deserve this.

    It's ironic. I held her up when life had her down and cooling. I was there for her when Elidor had toyed with her feelings, had almost broken her heart, and now she damn near goes and rips mine out. Good thing I know I'm tougher than this, but still hurts. A lot. I should just give up on women. Maybe love really is poison, something that causes weakness. What Cara and I had wasn't even love, but it was growing into it. And look at what it did already.

    Well, at least I'll learn from this like I learn from every wound and scar I have. I'm not going to let anything or anyone get into my armor that easily again. I'll make my heart into a fortress, so that anyone who wants to get in will have to work for it. But what will I make that fortress of? Contempt? Bitterness? Fear? Focus? Duty? Faith?_


  • _I'm starting to get into a daily routine, for as far as I have 'normal' days. Wake up at dawn, head outside for a wash with night-cold water to wake up, then put on my armor. Two times a hundred pushups, and another hundred if I'm in good shape. Then a run to Norwick in full pack, just in time for breakfast at the inn. Some bread, eggs and some of whatever leftover meat they have from yesterday. Quarter hour to let it sink, and then another full run back to the tower, just in time for the morning's briefing. I've been slacking lately, but this is helping. I wish I could live my life more regularly, and train harder. The discipline is good for me, but the Legion doesn't work with rigid routine, and Narfell doesn't allow it.

    My new armor's finished, and I have to admit it's a brilliant piece. Much stronger than my old one, and I had it engraved with a few sermons. Whenever I look at them, they give me strength and focus, even if I'm the one that spoke them. I especially like the one on my massive left shoulder plate.
    "Duty calls us.
    Honour guides us.
    Faith shields us."
    I almost can't believe I spoke those words in one of the services I held. There just seems to be so much strength and wisdom in them, that they shouldn't be mine. But they still are.

    To finish the armor, I wrote the names of those in the Tome of the Fallen on a piece of parchment and I put it in a frame, which was magically protected and attached to my chest plate. That way, any Legionaire could always see those names, and draw inspiration from them. Major Telli, Sergeant Wog, Sergeant Yngdir,.. Heroes, all of them.

    And when the next chaplain wears this armor, I pray my name will be among them._


  • _Hammerhand stands on the deck of the riverboat, as it slowly slides northwards trough the night. He watches the shores of the river pass by, deep in thought.

    "Why do I bother with this sheite?

    First there's the one warrior, Jay. Apparantly he's a Temposan, whose interpretation of the faith is murdering women and children. He decided it would be a good idea to challenge the Legion, and he's now camping outside until we deal with him. I thought about going out to talk to him, to find out why he did and does what he did and does. But then I find out I don't really want to know. I don't care. Whatever reasons he has, I don't want to know them. I can't be bothered to think or pray on them.

    Then we went with a group –- a much too large, disorganised, unprepared group -- to the abyss to find some lost adventurers. As if anyone would come to get me from the abyss if one of my 'adventures' botched and I would end up in the abyss. They were dead, of course. And surprisingly, non of us died down there. On the good side, I did manage to get a nice new armor out of it. Looks like it belonged to a warpriest once. I'm going to work on restoring it. My old armor's gone trough a lot with me, but it's really had its time. I'm going to keep it stored, so I can go back and look at it, and remember when I have to.

    Clay challenged me to a fist fight, for flirting with Dondiah. As if the hypocrite doesn't know the paper-thin outfits she walks around in. As if he doesn't know I wouldn't ever seriously consider putting a stick between them. Even though I don't understand it, I respect people that have their sort of bond. I respect their bond.
    I was about to beat him off his boots when Dondiah jumped in and healed him up to strength, so he could beat me to the ground. I wasn't going to give in that easy, but I was too weakened to defeat him even after a second round. After that, they left. It was probably their plan all along. Revenge for being too weak to keep Clay alive in the pass?

    There's really nobody to blame for it but me. I try to get along with people, and give them a chance. I shouldn't do it. I shouldn't let my guard down this easily. I should stop trusting so very easily. I damn well know I should, but that doesn't make it easy. Having friends is a nice thing to fool yourself into. I talked to Sol about it -- there I go, making the same damn mistake again -- and she said I had a heart, and that it seperated us from the gnolls. I don't know if that's all such a strength. As long as I have my courage to see things trough, and my honour to guide me, do I really need a heart? Do I need to care?

    Who can I rely on? Who can I trust? Mia seems to be the only one. And there's no knowing that will ever change. Am I slowly going insane? Paranoid? Would that be a bad thing?_


  • _What started as a fairly generic patrol to the gnolls ended in disaster. When Dondiah, Clay, Del and me reached the bridge in the pass, we heard a cry for help and ran to investigate. Once we were there, we found one of the eastlander swordsmen, who promptly attacked us.
    And I froze.

    My mind just .. locked down. I looked for an ambush that wasn't there, I saw Del go down in one swipe from the swordsman before it started chasing after Dondiah. Clayton jumped in to save her but was cut down quickly. And I watched him die. Not that I could have reached him from where I was standing on the hill, but.. I should have been there, not half a mile away. By the time the Eastlander had finished off Clayton, my legs had started moving and I had walked up. When it turned to kill Dondiah again, I had reached him and saw my arm swing my axe into his chest, killing him almost instantly. But there was a dullness in my head. I felt nothing. Clayton and Del were dead, and I had made no effort to prevent it. I should have stopped it from happening. I should have stopped Dondiah from rushing in. But I didn't. Why?

    We took the bodies. First to the tower, and then to Norwick. All the while I felt nothing. They were raised, and I felt nothing. I reported the attack to Captain Benji, and I felt nothing. But when I returned to the Legion tower.. I started feeling. And I haven't felt this bad in longer than I can remember. I don't even remember feeling this bad about my insult of Lycka. That time it was only me that faced the consequences, but now.. two people dead. A third almost..

    I moved back to Norwick, and I apologised to Del and Dondiah. I couldn't find Clay. They seemed to forgive me, but I don't want their forgiveness. For some reason, I froze. I couldn't be relied on to do my part, and people died. I doubt it was some sort of magic spell. Once those pass, you generally know what happened. But I don't.

    What happened to me?_


  • _Against all odds, we defeated the dracolich. Not only that, but we also defeated Wendingo. It must have been an epic battle, though I was busy escorting refugees out of Norwick. Not somewhere I wanted to be, but as the hobgoblins proved, something that was necessary. Though we suffered only three losses, and two of those already returned, Sergeant Yngdir fell and hasn't. I've begun doing the Rites of the Fallen for him, though I'm leaving enough time for people to pay him one last visit. May Tempus take him into His halls, or guard his soul on the way to its final rest.

    The second loss the Legion suffered was that of Wog. He was old, and died in his bed. Not a fitting end for a warrior, but I've learned he's fought with the Legion for decades now. May Tempus take him into His halls, or guard his sould on the way to its final rest.

    In between performing the rites for these people, I've been enjoying the spoils of war… being some peace and time to enjoy life. I got some new clothes, which I've been needing ever since I returned to life, but the shirt was already torn by an elven huntress -- what's her name again? My memory hasn't been as good ever since I died.. -- with metal studs, rings and even chains across her body. That was an interesting night.
    And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I drank more than I should have. A drinking contest with Uniel, one of the Legion's new recruits, which I'm pretty sure I won. She seems like a nice, fun girl.

    All in all, life's good right now. The battle strengthened the sense of unity in the land, and there's a fresh sense of hope. I can't help wondering when the next major threat will appear though, and what it'll be. After defeating both an undead dragon and a half-god in one day, I'm not sure there's anything left that could cause the same amount of fear. But something will come, something always does._


  • _A Temposan hobgoblin called Gazelbu challenged me for my warhammer, and he did earn it in an honourable fight. That night though, he lead a group against Norwick and I won back my hammer, as well as his axe. Tempus guard his soul, he fought with honour.

    I'm still carying the symbol of a red gryphon on my armor. I've heard it was once the symbol of an academy I started, though if that's only the case I wouldn't feel the need to keep it anymore. I do though. I don't know why, but seeing it gives me almost as much confidence as my symbol of Tempus does, like a statue or painting of a great hero would. But why? As far as I remember I've never even met a gryphon._


  • _Some people are preparing to fight the undead dragon, while others aren't. Seeing people who have the power and skills to help decide not to makes me angrier than I thought. Everyone has to decide for themselves, but this is Narfell… so many come here to leave behind their problems and start a new life, and they have all the chances to do it. No matter where they come from, there's a place for them in Narfell. And now when that freedom and their new home is threatened, they decide to run rather than defend it. Bah, cowards.

    General Thaeon ordered the majority of the Legion, including me, to get ready to escort those leaving Norwick to the north. I tried to convince him otherwise, but failed. Not only might this cost us the entire battle, Norwick and who knows what else.. it doesn't do much to improve the Legion's reputation, or to remove the stain it has on its honour. I was hoping to at least get trough to him on this, but he doesn't even seem to care. We'll see how things go, I guess. Maybe Tempus will decide to come down, grab him by the head and smash it into the truth until he sees it.

    A Lathanderite priestess called Rith arrived in Norwick. Supposedly she's a hero from years ago, though she doesn't look that old at all. Most people that do know her, or her name at least, seem to think she is. Hopefully she's the one that can pull all these people together. We need a leader right now._


  • _The Legion is under threat from a foreign group. Supposedly mercenaries from Damarra who want the tower for themselves. There isn't a lot of information available yet, but plans are being made.. I wonder how I can make myself more useful in them.

    I've been thinking about creating a reliquary in the tower. Somewhere to store relics of the Legion, banners, wall paintings, tomes and statues of heroes. The Legion has been around for longer than most seem to know, but there's so little history gathered. So many people and so many battles forgotten. This can't continue. I'll have to propose it to the Generals.

    Personally, I'm still at a crossroads on what to make of myself. Or more accuratly, what sort of warpriest to be. On one hand I could focus more on personal glory.. raid during the day, spending the loot on drinks and women during the night. Sing tales of past battles and roar at the enemy.
    Or do I give up mortal pleasures to focus on serving Tempus? Do I focus on discipline and sacrifice? Both ways are good and both ways bring honour to Tempus in their own way. Can they be combined? I'm not the sort who would stop being disciplined and focused when the watch ends. Still, perhaps they aren't exclusive to each other. Everyone needs rest. As long as I don't overdo it, or overdo it in such a way it won't bother anyone, I don't think it would make me less of a warpriest.

    Tempus, I pray you will guide me. I do what I believe is right, with my tiny understanding. If I go down a path that threatens to dishonour you, correct me, and set me back on the right path._


  • _I found Mia. Or she found me. I didn't remember much of her, but I knew it was her as soon as I saw her. It's strange though. I don't remember who she was.. is.. but I remember how I feel with her. I felt peace, as an eye in the storm. That feeling is still there, but different. Because I'm different. We were close before, and I hope we can be again. Even though right now I don't feel that I -need- her.. I know the day might no be long before I do. When I need someone to run to. It's not something I want to admit, but even though I try to live up to an ideal, I'm still human. Mortal. I devote my life to war and battle, but that doesn't mean I don't want some peace and quiet now and then.

    What's the point of fighting a war for war's sake alone? Tempus doesn't want that, so why should I? War is a means to an end, not an end in itself.

    –--

    I was promoted to Private in the Legion, which is good. What's bad is that I seem to keep missing the important battles. I wasn't there when Captain Benji was taken, and I wasn't there when he was recovered. I wasn't there for the patrol into the mountains, and I wasn't there for the undead attack on Norwick. What good am I if I'm never there?_


  • _"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))_