The Bastard Son of Ghorimir
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From the Journal of Alidor.
_Please forgive the manner of which the following is written for I am not a scribe, but a prince.
I am Alidor, that once was my name. I've all but forgotten my name given to me by my father, King Dracon Frenure. My Father was the King of Ghorimir. A land in northern Cormyr, near the Helmlands. My father, a man, a King. He too was given another name for deeds same as I.
The Mad King.
I was born into a kingdom, not a family. My whole childhood, I was treated as though a Prince should be. My Father, The Mad King, had chosen the life of a soldier for me. A life which I had become familiar with, content with. By the age of 14, I had returned home from three battles against the Goblin Orcs to the North. That's three times more than most men return home. My father, a powerful man, had become sadistic. He would send me out with a small company of men, to kidnap Orc Children and bring them back to the camp. He would then instruct us to burn and mutilate the child as he watched with an ever growing heartless smile. He would have us kill three children a month, he told me in private that he just liked to hear them squeal from the molten metal being poured into there already gashed arms and legs. He always wanted a bronze Orc he would say. But for another time…
As a Son to a father and a Soldier to a King, I was compelled beyond the purpose of duty to Please The Mad King. These midnight raids on the Goblin Orcs soon caught attention to the Elves East. They heard of my fathers soul-less bidding of his faithfuls. They tried to come to our city in peace, offering help dealing witht he Goblins once and for all, my father repectfully decline, by cutting off one of the emmisary's head and placing it above his bedpost. The Elves made me very paranoid. I would often have dreams that they would attack for retribution. That's where this starts...
I, amongst several of my kinsman, who I have served with diligently were caught off guard one night when a small group of Assassins had climbed over the city walls directly into the Keep, where My Father and I lay. That night, was the night I lost my name…
I was awaken by the shouting of the wall guards. Torches were flooding my chamber walls from men running down the interior halls. I could hear blades clashing. I sprung out of bed, still in my night time attire, grabbed my Gem encrusted Bastard Sword I'd been given for Graduating the Legion Academy. I flew into the hallway, met by two men wearing light cloth as black as the darkest shadow, only illuminated by the fireplace, still warming my room and lighting the doorway in a column of visibility. I gripped my sword, one of them started speaking in a tongue i could not understand. I still believe to this day it was some sort of Gnomish, but that part is by far the least of the importance of this journal. In a rush of fear and plain instinct, I lunged at one of the dark intruders, swinging my blade across his chest, grounding him instantly. The other gripped my left shoulder, in a defensive twist, i cut the hand off of the second menacing shadow. He screamed, high pitched, woman like. The screaching noise had stunned me for a moment, when I was suddenly hit hard in the back of the head.
From that moment, and or about three days or so I slept in the dungeon cell. It was a vile room, four dirt walls, with no window,just a few beams of strangled light pierced throught the cracks in the wooden door that is the cieling of that wretched prison. I hadn't known then why I awoke there, nor would I have suspected the reason. I called for someone, shouting for hours untill my voice was but a whisper from my harsh grindin stone-like throat. It must have been ten years I was imprisoned, and what for I still did not know. I woke to my morning feeding as a guard pounded on his floor, my cieling and dropped my daily serving of left over bread from the night before and raw meat. My body was weak, and numb from the increasingly small diet. After i swallowed the scraps of bread and the meat, I still assume it was rat, I slowly brought the cup of liquid to me lips. Praying that my shakes wouldn't lose me any of this divine pleasure. I opened my mouth, and let the reviving elixer take it's effect. I immidiately choked and vomited all of what I had eaten. I could see the remains of my little platter of salvation in the trickle of light from the crack in the cieling. It was red...It was blood. The door to my hell flung open, I was blinded by the sun-like rays of fate that slammed into my sheltered eyes. I could see the silhouette of a heavily armored man peering down at me. He lowered a ladder and ordered me to climb it. I could follow orders, what I couldn't do was walk.
The harsh environment of the Dungeon and severly weakned me. My arms were thin and I could barely steady them from the freezing air, it must've been winter. My legs were once thick and heavy. The years of marching and wearing suits of heavy armor had made me a well sculpted man. That man was not here in this dungeon cell. I made my way to the ladder, grabbed ahold of the highes rung i could reach, and pulled with all my strength to leave the floor. When my foot left the the lifeless void I could feel a breeze coming from the the air above. It was the most precious thing, as if a God had whispered my destiny, and in that breath, gave me life. I felt the cool air upon my thinning scalp, and the sensation traveled down my face and for a moment, a brief momen, i think i almost smiled. I was quickly reminded where I was when the Man casting the shadow over my escape port shouted for me to hurry along. I gripped every rung higher, and the air traveled lower and lower on my body, untill i was at the top the intesity of the color was most extreme, and my eyes took almost a minute to compensate for the time I've spent in darkness. In which time the man had grabbed me at the shoulder and flung me up out off the ladder, and onto the ground.
I was greeted by two men, wearing the Colors of Ghorimir. I asked for my father, but they didn't respond to me. The just looked upon my body, as if i were already a corpse. One of them spoke, you are going to be hanged Alidor, Prince of Ghorimir for crimes against your people and your King. I couldn't comprehend what he had meant. Crimes? What Crimes? I responded, with very little tone or emotion in the sound that came from my mouth. The sound. The Voice I had when I was soldier was one of respect and confidence. My voice could be heard across a valley, or echo in mountains for days. I was now a small, pathetic mold of my former self. The man answered this question with a look as cold as a mid-winter night out in the pines of Kings forest. Your crimes Alidor, are crimes of which cannot be spoken by none but the King. My head perked as I kneel on the ground, My father, I asked. That was the last thing I remember. I awoke several hours later in a daze. My head crudely bandaged and searing with pain. I could hear two voices, neither the same as the men in the dungeon. The noticed I was awake without a doubt, the searing pain from my head reminded me. I was greeted by two a each side of me. I was in a bed, in a room with a window. There was handcarved wooden molding of dancing dwarves and the bed post was made of dark hickory oak. The sheets were died crimson red and the silky texture made the pain a bit more tolerable. The men noticed I was awake, they hadn't shown any sign of hostility judging by the bandage held by one and the warm wet rag held by the other. I felt secure, I felt safe.
The door to the familiar keep infirmary flew open with a crash. My father crept in followed by his royal guard, the same guard i had been a repsected member 15 years ago. I recognized some of the older faces. Men I served with, along with some new faces of young soldiers with hope of seeing the world and ridding it of evil. My Fathers face had aged. His once proud dark bold beard was now white, and thin. His shoulders were hunched and we walked with a stcik made of a dark timber with a diamond encrusted handle on the top. Upon looking at me, and the mold of my former self I have become. I could see pain in his eyes. He came near the foot of my bed, reaching out to touch my skinny limb I once called a leg. I had been alone and afraid for so long, I didn't know how to react. If his touch would hurt, as it's been so long since I've seen, let alone touched another person. I flinched, and he reatreated his hand quickly. The Guards quickly gripped the hilt of there Legion issued longswords. The King had quickly waved off the threat, and they stood back at attention. My son, he said to me, Why have you disgraced your family, your self, but worst of all your King? My natural intuition as a soldier was to answer promptly, and truthfuly. buy my right as a son granted me the right to know why I was imprisoned. Little did I know then, we both wanted to know the same thing. What happened that night?
Father I don't remember all of what happened. Assassins broke into the keep, I heard the Guards yelling, get him out here...I assumed they were talking about you. So I Lept to my sword and slayed one of the men, i got the hand of the second...then I woke up in prison. Father for ten...That's what you think happened? he interrupted, You Started screaming in the middle of the night about assassins, you! Not anyone else. You alerted the guards, and then proceeded to slay as many as you could before you were put out. I had no clue what he was talking about. This story, this falacy wasn't amusing I told him. His eyes never left mine as if he was trying to tell me something without speaking. He opened his mouth, with a faint breath. He spoke. Alidor, you are banished from Ghorimir. Never to return here again under Peanlty of Death on sight. I remember those words as if they're spoken to me every night I lay. He was given insanely bold looks by his guards, and the two men beside me still. I will not have the approval of the people. They want to see you hanged for treason. I will not hang my own son. No? But you'll imprison him for half a lifetime? I shouted, loud this time, with emotion, with power. He flinched at the sudden brashness of my tone. the guards handled their hilts once more, no sign of support from my father this time. He said nothing. He turned and left the room followed silently by his guard.
I had yet to realize what my father had told me. I was so anxious to know why I had been in that pit so void of life for so long, I had not realized my father had told me what I had done. It quickly hit me. The dream, wasn't a dream at all. I was killing people...And the worst was I knew my recolection wasn't complete, even half. The whole night began to repeat itself in my head....
A man came to town that evening. He was a traveling magician for hire. He offered to show me a sample of his magicks, I kindly refused...by lighting his robes on fire and throwing him down a hillside. Hours after that, there was a gift sent to my room from an un-announced sender. It was a box made of some dark sort of wood. The grain on it almost seemed to swirl round if I concentrated my eyes on it long enough. I was reluctant to open the box, for it's contents were as mysterious as the sender. I did open it, and when the lid was pulled off, the contents became clear. Twas an animal heart, maybe deer. It was still pumping, but not with aid of blood, no. This heart was pumping with a mist like vapor spewing out from all creveses. The mist was giving life to this dead heart. Allowing it to function, allthough without a purpose. The heart pumped, but it had nothing to pump for. No life to keep flowing through the veins and such ways our bodies continue to work. This mist, is the reason I am who I am today.
It noticed me, there inside that box it noticed me. It recognized a similar host. An organ, a heart a key tool in the functionality of our bodies...Me, a prince, a warrior, empty. I was no different than the heart that lay before me pumping for no apparent reason. Just there, living. Not unlike myself I suppose. Just there, laying in the Keep infirmary waiting for the city magistrate to announce my death to the citizens who eagerly await the news. My father had told me I was banished, not to be put to death. He left me there, in that room alone on purpose. I was to flee. I slowly lowered myslef onto the warm wooden floor I was once accustomed to, and snuck out of the room. I knew if I was to make it outside the gates, i would need my Legion gear. All of the necessary equipment to survive in the wilderness...for a time.
I snuck out the door. My legs shaky from the lack of excersize for ten years. Walking in circles day after day pondering the crimes for which you have no recollection of commiting can only do so much. I clammered down the hall, sparing no part of the wall as support. I made it to the Armory, which was usually guarded, but the Centrymen must've been out on a patrol. I opened the door, it creeked louder with every inch the gap grew. Luckily, my smaller stature allowed me to squeeze through quite a little space. I noticed a medium sized piece of chainmail armor laying on the ground near a weapon rack. I grabbed it, and a short sword along with a wooden shield, the weapons i was accustomed fighting with, and made my way out of the armory unscathed. Again, luck on what's left of 'my side' I knew the secret passage that takes one from teh Library to the Sewer tunnels underneath Ghorirmir, and eventually out into The Helmlands.
I make my escape from Ghorimir. My father was dethroned after letting his son off his Haneous crimes, and then on named the Mad King. I am now known as the Bastard son of Ghorimir. A title I have grown quite tired of. I'm nobodies son. I am a child of a Kingdom, not a family. I am cold and numb. But I seek refuge, and a place where my blade is needed._
End of Part 1/3Log in Name Sidewaystaircase
P C name Alidor
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Reviewed, XP Pending!
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ee
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sorry my computer was acting slow, so I must've clicked post a couple times.
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From the Journal of Alidor, The Bastard Son of Ghorimir
_It's been some time since I've written my journey. My time was no longer my own. It belonged to my savior, my mentor, my friend.
Ghezriel, a monk and priest of Tempus, was the man I'd seen in my last entry. I was laying on a church bench, tired and sober. My body has lost it's drive to continue on my search for my purpose in life…or so I thought.
I digress.
I was awoken on the bench, as I said, to a man lighting candles. These candles were strange to me. I hadn't known why. But the feeling was soon to pass. Ghezriel had greeted me, and asked my name. I was stunned, that coming upon an ale stenched sleeping man in your temple was less curious than the mans name. My reaction would've been a bit more tempered. I talked, he listened. He asked of my plans for the future, my thoughts on wildlife. Never the past. I stayed at the temple with Ghezriel for some time. I hunted deer and wild boar during the day, which we would feast and sing at night. He spoke little of hmiself. Always asking conversations topics of me. I soon ran out of current topics. I covered my love for ale, which within the four months I was with him at the time, I hadn't had a drop, and never felt better.
One night, after eating some fish Gheziel had caught, for my task of the day was to collect firewood. Ghezial had been silent most of the day, which wasn't often. I found the time to ask him if something has been bothering him. He didn't answer right away. He stared at me, picking his teeth with a fish bone. He took a deep breath. He spoke quietly, as if he didn't want the forest. Tempus came to me in a dream lastnight. These words, severe. He had spoke of Tempus many times. His Diety. Tempus was a god. The God of war, battle, honor in death was the creed. My Creed, was running as fast as I could from where I came from, without EVER looking back. I asked Gheziel what this dream had told him. He motioned to the fire, I followed his gesture and gazed into the dancing flames.
He Spoke,_ My friend, Tempus has told me of your deeds. I have seen your past, and your destiny. You have learned much in your time here. Though you may think my preaching had fallen on lost ears, you will heed my words with every dream from this day after. I was once like you Alidor. My life had been over, before it began. I too wondered among the land, unknowingly searching for my path. My trail to a life of peace, and tranquility. Tempus has shown me your path. For reasons I cannot speak, you are to go to the Realm of Norick, in the land of Narfell. There, your path, your guiding light from Tempus will reveal itself.
_His words ended as abruptly as they began. I was still trying to comprehend what was said as he stood up from the log we sat on. He told me to follow him, I did. We walked around to the front of the temple, and through the entrance doorway. We walked to the back of the temple, where the Candles stood, eerily. He spoke under his breath, I couldn't make out what he was saying. His face lit only by one candle's flame standing frozen straight up. It was eerie, as I said. He reached out his right hand, gesturing for mine. I obliged. He looks directly into the darkest part of my eyes. Staring into my soul. I could almost feel it.
Eerie.
He held up a match in his left hand. It was thick, thicker than any match I'd seen. It wasn't a simple stick with a flint on the end. It was as long as my forearm, with almost a thickened part at the bottom for a grip. A wand? Is he here to kill me using Arcane Magicks. I've only heard stories from tavern patrons about the Arcane but I've never known it's presence. This fear was simple paranoia. Probably caused from the lack of ale. He told me to grab the match, and strike it on the Altar. I obliged. I took the large match, awkwardly placing my fingers around the hint-like base of the cudgel. I stepped to the Altar, placing the pointed end on the table-like top. I pressed down with an unsure amount of force, and ripped it back. The crude face of the Altar top started to glow red. It soon became apparent that the unique wedge in my hand wasn't to light. The Altar was.
I stepped back as I felt heat coming from the symbolic pulpit. I looked to Gheziel for the assurance of the now flaming shrine of Tempus. His eyes focused on the conflagration. My mind was racing. The sound of the blaze was almost deafening compared to the silence of my conscience. I was driven to my knees, an encumbrance of heat filled my lungs. I choked for air. I looked to Gheziel, this time hoping not for assurance, I was hoping he would stop it. His eyes still melted to the Altar, unable to look away. The heat grew, I struggled for any breath I could get. The light in the room faded in and out. My vision was blurring. My mind overwhelmed with the discernable decision to die face up or down. I blacked out. My mind was awake, but my body lay in the temple brightened by the burning surface. My attentive mind searching for the trigger to alert my lifeless body. I heard a voice. A deep, toneless voice. a voice meant only to translate, nothing more.
Alidor, son of Dracon Frenure, Mad King of Ghorimir Listen to my words. Your deeds of the past, have made your soul desolate, and void. I, the voice of Tempus, am offering you redemption. In return of a new life, one of choice and reward. You are to serve the will of Tempus. Not as a priest, but as a vessel of virtue and balance. Death is the consequence of life, as the balance must be kept. If you wish this gift I offer, extinguish the candle, and continue your pursuit if destiny.
My eyes erupted open. Daylight crept into the Temple through holes in the cieling. The beams were visible in the air by the weightless dust that covered every inch of the interior. Gheziel was standing over me. His eyes locked on my limp body. Aftwe I reached eye-level, he pointed to the only lit candle. I looked the the still flame. I thought about the words I heard. I walked to the object in my way of freedom. I took a breath, with aim at the glowing enemy. I was obstructed by Gheziel gasping. I held my gust of emancipation, glancing to my one and only friend. He spoke wisely, and with no discretion. He told me…
Alidor. If you extinguish the flame, as I once did for my own salvation, the debt must be paid. You must comply with the will of Tempus. Protect the innocent, empower the righteous, vanquish all that is evil. Just remember. Your debt must be paid, as mine wasn't. I was given the same mercy as you Alidor. I extinguished the flame, and promised Tempus my soul as his vessel. I however, was given the gift of choice. I resented Tempus for giving me a life for which I was instructed to do such deeds. I turned away from his blessings, and my debt was not paid. I now am sentenced to seven lifetimes here at this temple. If I leave it's grounds, I will be forever banished from the living realm. I hope your choice helps you realize your fate Alidor.
My eyes dry, I hadn't blinked. This man I knew as my friend, my only friend wasn't even a man at all. He was a remnant of a man. A memory of a man who made a choice. I thought about everything I could. What would happen if I did it. Would my name, The Bastard Son of Ghorimir be forgotten, would my life in prison, be returned to me. I couldn't know the answer, no one could. I regained myself, I remember smiling at Gheziel, and thanking him for everything he was taught me. About Tempus, about survival. I turned to the still petrified candle. It's flame silent, waiting. I took a final inhale, holding it as I promised myself whatever happens would be worth it. I let loose the stream of pain and suffering I wished for so long to be rid of. With that breath, my promise to Tempus has been made. The flame vanished, smokeless. I turned to Gheziel, my mentor, with a final quest for assurance. He held out his right hand, and smiled. We clasped wrists, griping tightly with exspression of hope and gratitude. His final words…
Farewell Alidor, I hope my curse has been your blessing. I feel no need to punish myself any further.
He smiled, and walked through the front entrance, pausing at a pair of Oak trees that lay a couple paces west of the doorway. He looked to the translucent blue sky. His face seemed at peace, unthoughtful, Free. He stepped between the two oak trees, and with a single snapping sound. He was gone. Nothing now stood between those two oak trees. I hadn't felt sad. Somehow, I felt well. My heart was beating strong, my muscles felt tight and useful. I could stand up straight without an ache in my back. I felt alive. I grabbed my belongings. My chain armor lay folded, dust covered under a pack full of smoked deer meat. My blade, now feeling lighter than before was leaning against a wall, I sheathed it to my belt with a confident grip. I picked up my full pack, hung it on my shoulder, and made my way south. I voided the oak trees, it was his resting place now.
I made my way to a port city of which the name is irrelevant. I stopped at the smithy to have my blade sharpened and my chain polished. Something inside, inside of my once empty self, urged me with a pulse of vigorous yearning to find this Norwick.
Now. I sit on a boat with a few passangers along with myself, awaiting the next stop.
Norwick.
The captain tells me that many travelers, young and old, men and women, Human and Elf alike are attracted to the shores of Narfell. Gheziel told me he saw my fate in a dream. I hope to live that dream, fulfill my promise to Tempus, and make peace with the horrors of my past. Well, I heard the anchors drop. I hope my story falls upon lost ears, and can lend a helping hand to a soul in need._
This conludes part 3/3 of Alidor's Journal.
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From the Journal of Alidor.
_Please again, forgive any details you may wish or some not needed, for I am not a scribe, but was once a prince…
The first week was the toughest. Being alone, no one to talk to. Having to fend for myself for the first time was the worst. Even while in Prison, food was given daily. I must have gone three or four days eating nothing but berries off random trees and bushes. Hell, the first time I killed something, a badger had woken me from my sleep under a great red-wood, native to Gorimir, and i stabbed it on accident when I jumped in fright and tripped over a log, letting my simple Bastard sword fly out of my hand and landing on the innocent creature. I wasn't regretful, I was blessed with fresh meat for almost a week. I may have binged the first couple of days, but I'll never tell. The month following went easier, and much smoother. I moved south everyday. Dawn till Dusk. I moved with only the simplest of useful items. I found a sack full of throwing Darts under a corpse. Poor bastard must've died defending the smaller two skeletal remains. Life happens.
Life. What I knew of life now was not what I knew of life nearly twenty years ago. I was 14, captain of the Royal Personal Guard of King Frenure, my father...who was now, no king at all. I stopped at taverns along the way. Meeting new folks who had shared hard times as I, and just wanted a friend or two to share an ale. Ale. MMhmm. I love me an Ale. Went through a bit of a wet spell for about a year. Everyday, i traveled less and less distance to stop and make sure I'd have ale for the next day. Sometimes, if I ran out...I'd drink my own waste. I'm not proud of it, but if you're reading this still, you'll be exceptin of me by now. I'm no saint. Quite a bit of a sinner if you ask me.
I wonder, no i'm obsessed with what happened that night. The ale makes my mind wonder, stray away from that night. I still hadn't figured it out by then. It was almost a year afterwards had I gotten the hint. but that was yet to come. I came onto an abandoned Dwarven mining hut. Can't tell you what it was they mined, it was empty...all but an ld battle axe. Probably left behind from a dead guard or something of the sort. I kept the axe, used it for wood chopping to make make-shift shelters and spears for fishing...fishing never went too well. I ate mostly squirrel and badger. Although one time...mid day, I was doing some old Legion Training excersises with my sword, and a black bear came upon my camp!
He was fine at first, not bothering me, nor I it. He then smelled the crisping Badger from the morning past burning on the fire. He must've been as hungery as I for he sped full speed at the appetizing flame. He crashed right into it, head first. As I sit by watching, he tumbled and twirled untill his head nye in flames anymore. From my time in silence and darness, my humor has become dull, almost Morbid. I couldn't help but laugh a little. I say again. The bear from the wild comes running into your camp fire full speed. Wouldn't you at least be shocked, if not humored by the event. I digress. After the bear had regained himself...believe me, HIMself (details I will not go into with a stranger) he turned his reagained sight towards me. I stand there, with my sword in hand, in awe of what just happened before me. Really. I've seen Goblins throw cast iron balls that explode when they hit the ground. Hell, I've seen a Dwarf shoot fire from a wand that made a terrific BOOM! But that, will remain in what I have left of my memories forever. The bear sprang at me, I gripped my hint, hoping that it would be distracted and this encounter would be over. From my previous entry, you could entail that I'm not that lucky...He jumped at me. I sprang to the ground, rolling under the now flying light tempered carnivore. We both turned, facing each other...one of us, facing death. Don't be a wise ass thinking well if I'm reading this, of course you survived. Shut it! Again, I digress. Most of my wits were screaming at me, telling me to run as fast as I could some other way the bear wasn't. But that conscience message was held at the ear. My other side, the one that was formed in the deep furnace of hell. The one that I called upon when I needed to be ruthless, savage, unhuman. The animal and I stare upon each other, each one of us secretly planning our next attack. He wished to eat me, and I him. One doesn't know ones self untill he is desperate for survival. This time, in a quite fortunate outcome, a more fortunate outcome than most would tell, if the lived to tell it, I ran at the beast. My sword held high above my right shoulder, I sprinted at death itself. One may see a Bear, I say evil itself with a face and claws. When I came close enough, I jumped. I don't recall why exactly, but I felt that it wuold throw him off. I swung my blade, full force with everything I had inside that wanted to live through this, and caught the bear off guard, the blade chopped though the top of his skull. I landed if not more than a meter away, my blade still stuck in his skull. It fell.
Twas the first thing I've killed that I was not taught to hate. With Goblins, my life was hunting and killing their kind. Why? Well I'd be the wrong man to ask. Just how it is I suppose.
I met quite a few folks goin through a similar ordeal. Well, as similar as it can get without my story sounding like a fairy tale. Back to the Ale! Still was sometime I couldn't go without a drink or seven. The time I spent not walking, or drinking, I would write. I wrote many stories of my travels. True, falacy, the stories truth mattered not. Hell, how can you know what I write here is true. You can believe it's true, sure. But only with evidence, can you truly see for yourself, what I say is true. Oh well, I'm no scholar. Again, I digress.
The bear provided me with food for almost a month. I ddn't move much...Any. I smoked all the meat in a mud pit I made and had a nice little hut with a fireplace I paid a Halfling craftsman to make. He just ate most of the meat and was on his way. I make a fine fur coat out of the bear. Something to help with winter approaching. Throughout the winterI hunted whatever I could eat. Rabbit, Squirrel, wolves...Never felt right killing a wolf. So wild, so free, so beautyfu.(the writing stops..two small water drop sized stains are left in it's absence)
(the writing continues...you can tell it's been some time, the ink is a different color, different language, different person.)
Ah hello again. Alidor here. I apologize for the absence of my entries. One can only recollect so many sad recounts before he wishes to not speak anymore.
I am proud to say I am no longer that pathetic mold.(under this sentence, Alidor has drawn a crude symbol of Tempus, God of War. The Shield of Tempus with the Flaming sword wiggles its way onto the the parchment)
While wondering drunk through a riverfront swamp, I came upon a Temple, hidden in the brushel of sticks and leaves. I wondered into the Temple, thinking it abandoned and hoping to make a suitable place to have my four to five evening ales.
I politely knocked once awaiting answer, by kicking in the only side window with glass. I pulled my way into the dark, wild covered temple. The inside was dust covered, void of worship or prayer. At one end to the left was an alter with the sacred symbol of Tempus carved into the Front. To the right, a couple rows of benches lay un-orderly on the floor. It was clear, that this once was a lively ground. Foot steps still engraved the forgotten floors, and the candles...The candles as I recall were the strangest thing at my first stay at the temple. They looked old, ancient even. The wicks were as thick as my little finger. The candle itself as thick as my fist, and half as tall as me. I took refuge on a creeky old pew the temple had offered. When I awoke the next morning. I saw a man standing next to the front of the Altar. He was lighting the candles with a match that emitted a blue and maroon flame. I lay quietly, hoping the monk hadn't noticed me, and I could sneak out without adding another sin to my long list of unholy deeds. This plan would've worked. If I hadn't been so sheltered...
His match went out. He dropped it at his feet, and began to speak softly words I cannot remember. But a small flame appeared out of the air, and followed the man around lighting each candle the match did not live long enough to light. I hadn't seen such peaceful magick in my time. Not blowing up any Goblin Hut, not setting magickally holding down the young goblin, pulling at his tongue with searing hot fire pinchers. I unknowingly gasped. Such a little noise...had changed my life forever._
End of part Two: To be Concluded
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After story is done…I would've tried to finish it today, but it took me three hours for this one...thanks alcohol.
but i'll finish it soon. and then, hopefully you all will like it, the conclusion might end with some IG Extravanza! with possible cooperation with a willing and awesome DM. But more coming soon if you liked this!
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Want me to award this background XP right now, or you wish to end the story first? It seems that part 2 and 3 are on the way…
