The Warrior Priests [PK]

[Draiden 319]

 

Aedan sat in his barren court, hidden amongst the backalleys of Alisgrad as he read over a missive sent to him by the... Chancellor? Chamberlain? He didn't quite know the difference, nor did it matter. To him, it was just another honorific given to some stooge to handle minor administrative tasks for the crown anyways. The nature of the missive, however, was quite troubling, and he had many restless nights fighting himself over what to do about it.

 

He had a lot of pride for what he and his lineage were, as furtive as it seemed to be. A long line of warriors and scholars, bred from bloodlines of royalty, fighters, heroes, alchemists, drunkards and scoundrels. Through the eyes of his predecessors, Norland had always been watched since the foundations of Seahelm were laid centuries ago. He wondered what they would say; how they would react to behold Alisgrad now. He was unsure of what they'd think of it. It didn't matter much anyways.

Where was Aedan's  beloved lineage now? Living in an alley and written off until needed to do what must be done. It seemed a common theme, at least in recent generations - no one had the courage to do what was right except the Farettos, and the Farettos always suffered for it. A price to pay for everything, he figured. Half of his body lost to the tides of Svarlandic chaos and a war that some thought would never end, and no thanks but continued service to a crown that could not bear its own weight. Some predecessors took that mantle with such a ravenous fervor, but not him. Such a warm-hearted soul was not meant to be a dog of war.

An age of heroes came and past, and Aedan was merely a bystander... At least he didn't feel like a hero. Heroes were celebrated, and he felt like any decision he made would be met with ridicule regardless of what he said. No other paths to take except the one that led away.

He gathered up what little possessions he had left after the sacking of Varhelm and left his cold corner of the new city. He felt old, weighed down by the mistakes and responsibilities inherited from his forebears. Yet he felt somewhat liberated as he left through the front gate - as if the weight had been lifted for his new path into the unknown north. The path of the Warrior Priest.

 

In Alisgrad, the rumored legend of the Barrel King hopefully lived on, though its newest denizens hardly knew what it meant. His last notes would seem nonsensical to them, but yet they managed to resonate with a few.

Spoiler

"Mera,

 

I was somewhat aware that you would be an absentee High Keeper when I voted for you, so I don't fault you for that. It would have been nice to have that supreme backup when I was away to keep things in line. You knew as well as I did that I couldn't do this forever. Good luck."

Spoiler

"Ragnvald, 

 

I am very deeply disappointed in you. You were not given the crown to be some limp-wristed socialite. The Red Faith is not here to hold your hand, nor is it here to take care of your children for you. Your refusal to participate in the trial speaks volumes to your moral character, as it begets a certain desire to wash your hands of this woman's fate... but allow me to give you some realities.

- Your covenant with the All-Father is a clan matter. All clan matters are handled by the clan leadership, which you are the de facto chieftain of the Rurics.

- Even of this matter was one which the Red Faith had express authority in, it is still the responsibility of the Ashguard or whatever the heck you're all deciding to call yourselves, which is de facto headed by the king, who defers to the marshal.

- The fact that you attempt to wash your hands of this heavily implies you already know what the decision is, and you are too scared or weak to do it yourself. So naturally you try to pawn it off on us because you cannot control your own clan.

 

You were chosen to be a man and rule. From King to King, I recommend doing that. If you cannot do what is right by laws and traditions, then you do not deserve to be king."

Spoiler

It seems like only yesterday Malg was handing me a shovel and telling me to dig up snow in the barren rock that would become Seahelm and Narthok was asking me to write on two paragraphs of lore that would grow to be the Red Faith. Its been a lot of years since then, and I finally decided I'm leaving. I joined LotC when I was in high-school, and after 6 years or so I realize that group is who lotc truly belongs to - highschoolers and college kids; not a bitter old man with a wife and family. I appreciate everyone for letting me play with you, whether I was a hero, villain, friend or enemy. I'd like to hope there's legitimately no hard feelings towards me, because I have none towards anyone here. I'm always open to messages if you all still want to talk or do other things.

 

Peace out, everyone.

[Crevel 4727]

Einar would lament the passing of the Luminary. A tear in his eye as he pushes a hesitant glance to his newborn son in his arms, a show of weakness. "Ye will grow old, mah son. Ye will restore our faith as it was when ye are a man grown.. as it should be. Ye've a burden to rest on yer shoulders lad, an' I hope I'll be there to help ye through them. Sleep well... Týr." he would lay the now-yawning newborn next to his sleeping mother, unknowing of the burdens decades to come. Meanwhile, Einar would rest downstairs by the door before finally setting off into the city to finish his rounds.

 

Spoiler

I'll miss seeing you around Draiden, I know we haven't got to see each other as much since I've come back but I'm sure it won't be the end. You've spent quite a long time on the server, and your influence will still be felt for a long time to come. Nevertheless, it'll be a shame to see less of you around.

 

[AstriaS 3679]

Mera Camian gave out the quietest hiss of annoyance. "To call this inconvenient would be the understatement of the year," the elderly priestess remarked. "But we must endure nonetheless. Clearly there is a great deal of work to be done to set the ship aright. May Aedan's path be a blessed one in the Father's light." With that, she set a pair of letters ablaze in the brazier of her grandmother's flamebrand, and recited a quiet prayer.

[Lhindir_ 3436]

((Godspeed bro))

[Rattussmackus 597]

Spoiler

i’ll miss you draiden, you taught me a lot of things even if you are a bitter old man. no, but you be well with whatever you do next!

 

[Operator_Bugman 220]

Orin sat in his home far off in the south, and sighed "There goes the last true Purifier, a bastard of a man. . . wish he'd fight me again."

[Qaz_The_Great 1189]

Spoiler

Love you submarine man