A Prayer Answered

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

"The Creator is our guiding light,

A beacon of hope for humanity in a plane of darkness."

 

The roar from the audience of the Bicentennial Tourney was enough to warm the Grand Master's heart. He had stayed by the gate instead of attending the celebration of his Order of Saint Lucien's 200th anniversary to keep a careful watch of who entered the city of Senntisten. While there was a moment of worry for leaving Jack Amador's side, it appeared to Rakim that everything had gone as hoped for. Men of Horen had won both of the competitions in the tournament and the Ordermen and the High Pontiff had seemed to enjoy the display of strength from all corners of the continent of Atlas. But for the aging Qalasheen, something was still missing.

 

After the crowds dispersed and after meeting with certain officials, Rakim decided to retire early to his quarters that night. As he did every night, the old knight would light candles for his loved ones from days gone by. The downside of living to old age was the old man was left with only a handful of friends from his youth. 'The last of a dying breed', Rakim would refer to this conundrum as. It was difficult to form connections with the new generation of today. It wasn't so much about different views or ideologies, though that may have been partly the case, more so the old man had devoted his entire being to his job at hand. By the grace of GOD he had reached the age of 81 just a month prior. There were no celebrations as the old man saw no reason to celebrate another year. The occasion meant only one thing - GOD expected more from him. Penance was not over. During some nights, Rakim would wake up in a cold sweat having dreamed he was back in the Westerlands in the midst of the siege on Bastion. And the realization that he had escaped the walls of the city while those around him cried out in agony as Mordring's forces broke through the defenses would set in. As a king he had failed. In trusting John V to save his people he had failed.

 

Rakim finished lighting the candles and would kneel down and pray by the private, humble altar in his room. He would pray that GOD look after those lost and that if GOD willed it he could redeem himself through dedicating his life to the faith and Church. But unlike other nights, Rakim was overcome by the urge to ask more from GOD.

 

"Dear LORD," Rakim began, the old man taking a sharp inhale before continuing. "I have held this celebration to honor both You and our forefathers who fought and died for the faith. After two hundred years, the honor to carry on the Vander Code and our traditions falls upon my withered shoulders. I not only ask thee for good health to continue serving your will, but I ask for guidance. I ask that the BLESSED Jack Rovin watch over his descendants and guides us to better serve your ultimate goal, whatever that may be. But the world we inhabit finds itself further astray from your word. I ask for a sign GOD. Please show me what you desire so that I may see it done..." Rakim would begin mumbling a few prayers in Flexio as best he could remember from what scrolls were left from the first Order of Saint Lucien.

 

Rakim's prayer would go unanswered for a few months - and then the smell of fine oils entered the Adamantine Cathedral. His prayer was answered.

 

[DarkElfs 160]

"young woman simple sat in corner of a home at a stool reading all notes on the westerlands, a small flask in her off hand as she'd ready partly grinning most the time" westerlanders did have quite a trouble some life. Lease none of them where forces in being undead like my father rolien "she'd take a sip from the flask continue read quite a bit longer that night"

[Burnsy 437]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.