Battle at New Valdev

[Wizry 1218]

 

“Your fate is to die for their whims!” The Necromancer shouted as Templar and Shaman stood over his broken body, though raising himself via an elbow,

The Templar affixed a golden cross laden banner unto his back, “My fate is to die. How I die is up to my effort.” - “A legend, just like the banner of the Clerics upon which is adorned on my back.”

The Shaman thereafter spoke, “Your fate is to forever toil between life and death, never be able to truly rest for the rest of time.” - “Between the two, what do you believe is a worse fate?” 

 

 

---

 

The Templar shifted as he gazed upon the battlescene of where he and his ally had fought a necromancer. The scattered remains of bone and rotted flesh settled into the dirt, yet to be cleaned. Though it was clear, though the man scratched at his scarred over injuries, that Shaman and Templar had been successful in defeating the undead creatures.

 

So he affixed the Cleric’s golden banner into the ground, infront of the Cross, signifying the victory of the Concordat in the now cleansed dirt. Still, the man gazed at the sky, thinking upon the fight and a particular phrase used by the necromancer - that he was a pawn.

 

Both Shaman and Templar had accepted that they were servants of greater beings that were impossible to comprehend. They had accepted that to do greater and better things that would be otherwise difficult or even impossible. Xionism could never comprehend that fundamental truth - that they had accepted the Aenguls and the Spirits of their own free will.

 

A scenario that would end in either Aengulic death or the death of the Xionists. As all things were, recognised by the Order’s tenets, a struggle to the death.