The Harder They Come, The Harder They Fall........

[urgualamand]

CaliliaD sat down halfway up the steep hill, knowing Cear would appear below him as he would reach the summit. Not that he was tired, but because of the task ahead.

He went over to a little pond and splashed water in his face. Then he made sure his cumbersome sack was secure on his back. Right next to a parcel of white silk, secured by a silver cord.. as he had done so many times during the last two weeks of traveling in the wilds. Using his spear for support he continued his climb.

*--
"CaliliaD, its time to begin your service. Not as a neophyte by which you have done well, but as a Priest!.. You have chosen your first quest, as you should. And the quest has been accepted by vote", the Priest had said.

He had been so eager to begins his true service, and the words of his teacher had felt like blessings tenfold.

"CaliliaD, know this, you can always call upon help! But as you already know very well, then we are few and scattered all over the known lands. So be sure the cause be fair, as we will have to discontinue our healing elsewhere."

Not many weeks ago he had been given the Sword. The key to priesthood, and during these dark ages, a promise of a short life.
--*

He had reached the summit, and there she was... Cear! A grand city indeed. Once build with hope. But now only a sad reflection of the past.

It was a fine day. Much better than most lately. The sky was clear and the heavens high. The sun was at its prime and all was calm and at peace. The only sounds was the birds singing, busy as always during springtime, and that of a small stream running nearby. He just stood there for a moment listening to the birds singing their ode to life. Though there was a sense of tranquility about, then a storm fared within him.

CaliliaD let his spear drop and placed the sack and the parcel on the ground. Then he dropped to his knees, untying the silver cord holding the white silk in place. And with a gentle touch unfolded the cloth to reveal its hidden content.. a sword. It was old, but well kept.

He held his breath in awe by the sight. He had not dared to take it out its confinements for the duration of his travels. This was the first time, in what felt had been ages, that his eyes once again gazed upon this symbol of his priesthood.

His let his fingertips travel across the blade and the pommel, silently muttering a blessing at every one of its many inscriptions. And with blank eyes he gently put the sword on the ground besides him.

He stretched out the large piece of white silk on the ground before him. Then took the cumbersome sack and emptied its content on to the silk. It was two hundred tiny vials.. each wrapped in a note and held tight by a silver thread. And all made to withstand any non-magical blow.

And then his chant began. For a while he sat there on his knees swaying forwards and backwards, lips moving but no sound escaped. At the end of his chant he reached for the sword. He clenched the pommel with both hands and had the point aim right down at the ground between him and the pile.

He roared out, eyes fixed on Cear:

"Caress us with your light and bless me with your might. Set free your birds of prey and help these vials find their way!"

He trust the sword downwards, plunging it deep into the soil.

A symbol of a rising sun on the pommel went light and then bright. Then it exploded in a globe of searing light. Knocking CaliliaD backwards. And a beam went from the sword straight towards the sun.

Down came two hundred falcons and one. They seemed to decent from the sun itself. They came down the beam and broke off to circle CaliliaD. For a while the air around him was filled with loud screeching and falcons.

Then one bird broke it off and swept down at the pile, with the others to follow. Each plucked a vial and with a screech they went off. Once again the air was empty. CaliliaD could only sit there in awe at the sight before him. The sun and the horizon and Cear down below. And two hundred falcons right above.

For a while they went high and for a while they went low. The spell wore of f and the birds began to glow, they exploded in bright light and let their cargo go.

It could easy have gone unnoticed. But those in Cear who had looked up they, saw a beautiful sight. Small explosions of light high above Cear.

But some of those who did not, still found evidence of that day. A tiny vial wrapped in a note and tied up with a piece silver thread. Those who would drink the content of the Vial would be healed, and for those who read the note the content was this:

------- ** --------

Beloved citizens of Cear!

Rel have heard your silent prayers!

As the sun rise you will be blessed and during the day you will be caressed by his warmth and his might. He is ever present with his light and is the one who guides you through the night.

Now Cear is bleeding!
But Rel has come to aid you with His healing.

Now Culnul is making the dead rise again, blessed by the evil ways of Lochwar!
But Rel has sent his followers to be among you. To aid you in the fight!

Praised be Rel!
The Lord of the Guiding Light. The Lord of the Healing Dawn.

Citizens of Cear! Be prepared for a better life.
Praise Rel, the Lord of Light. He will end this evil which surrounds you and heal your wounded.

------- ** --------

One falcon still hovered above Caliliad. He held up a folded note to be delivered to his teacher, and the falcon swept down and plucked it from his hand.

As he carefully gathered his gear and with sorrow put the sword back in hiding, he took one last look at the falcon now only a dot in the horizon.

"May we both fare well!"

He then went back down the hill. Took a detour around the countryside, before he headed for the gates of Cear.

As he approached the gates he wondered if he would still be alive to see the sun rise in a week. This was not a task for a novice priest, but Cear was not the only place in need. He would just have to do his best.. and he would be happy to die trying.

Praised be Utu!

[Minuvas]

*Minuvas had almost immediatley seen a response from the citizens. Running to his door*

"Father! Vile birds fly from the sky with messages of Heresy"

The Father blinked, rubbing his brow "More Heresy you say...what could it be now?"

"Falcons father! They took to the sky, blackenning it with blinding light. Our eyes - they burned.Here!"

the letter was extended to Minuvas' hand.

He read it briefly.

"Citizens, I ask you not to fear these words of terrorism against our great lord. The followers of Heresy may try to shake you with these false ideals.

It is reasons like this, that our Lord Lochwar is angry with us. For we have allowed such fools to find their way into the pool of our people. Look to your neighbor, for he may be the conspirator in this matter. Report suspicious behavior.

Lochwar has struck down the vile god of Blinding Light, and brought us upon the righteous path. Those who claim to be followers of the false god, shall be shackled - and slain by dusk. Their last memory shall be the setting sun of which they worship so.

Embrace your faith more than ever, for it is clear that there are those amongst us - yes even in our very Empire, that seem to continue to believe the lies of a fallen kingdom.

The Church does not wish you to fear these false words, and the Neophytes shall be dispatched immediately to homes of families that feel these 'vialss' have tainted.

The Church will dispose of the many vials which have already turned in, for free.

Praise Lochwar my children, may the Lord of God's watch over you this eve"

A Falcon - which is no unusual sight in Cear these days,swoops down quickly , to which the crowd lightly stirs - as it opens up its maw to make some sort of Caw - Minuvas grabs it by the throat and breaks its tiny neck.

[blackheart]

Allaric Wyvernsbane, ears to the ground, senses the tumult to the south. Searching the skies above him, he bears witness as the very creatures of the air swarm and reel in the sky above, a clear disruption of the natural order.

The gods truly walk among us, he solemnly thinks to himself, shaking his head, As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport.



(( Denmark in the house!

[LONOmakesWAR]

*Aris aproaches minuvas after the comotion from the display with the Falcon simmers down*

"Father do you recall our conversation about the arrival of the patriarch? You told me that he often walks amongst the commoners and spends the majority of his days walking with farmers and street folk?"

"Well it has been some time since his arrival and yet I hear no talk of public apearances at all, is the patriarch well? It would be a great sadness to the people if he has left without a single visit. Is everything well with him Father?"

[sirius]

Sirius stood by the fountain in Cear, with a number of mages and even a few magistrates, discussing a great many things. One of the magistrates pointed to the sky, "What in the name of Lochwar...", Sirius turned sharply and fell grim.

Assuming the worst as the falcons soared overhead and the ominous light poured forth form the sky, Sirius cast a great circular shield of magic over the men gathered with him, and as the golden light harmlessly shone through it and warmed his face, he began to smile, and closed his hand, the shield fizzling away. He looked to the ground, laughed to himself briefly, and then turned back to the men, "What is it?" one of them asked, "Couldn't say" Sirius replied simply, being entirely untruthful, "Nothing to worry about I'm sure - now, where were we".

[ChikenKannon]

*stood infront of Ealden arguing over the value of a freshly made dagger. One of the vials plops on the back of his head, causing Lok to spin around readying a fist.*

What the...?

*Picking up the vial and reading it's heresy slowly, at the mention of banned gods Lok tosses it to the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. Looking distraught and knowing what will happen when Minuvas catches wind of (if he hasn't already) this. He accepts Ealdens ridiculous price and hurries off to seek shelter from the coming witchhunt.*

[Minuvas]

*Aris aproaches minuvas after the comotion from the display with the Falcon simmers down*

"Father do you recall our conversation about the arrival of the patriarch? You told me that he often walks amongst the commoners and spends the majority of his days walking with farmers and street folk?"

"Well it has been some time since his arrival and yet I hear no talk of public apearances at all, is the patriarch well? It would be a great sadness to the people if he has left without a single visit. Is everything well with him Father?"

"The Patriarch is sick at this time, and has canceled all public appearances and private visitations. I will make sure he receives any messages you have for him.

Please pray that he meets a speedy recovery in his old age"

[Grayle]

*Staring skyward, Grayle admires the flight of hunting birds in their circling above the city. He returns his gaze to his book as he enters the smithy, unaware of the current hysteria. As the door shuts behind him, a glass vial plummets earthward, shattering on the cobblestones of the trade district. Stray dogs lap up the contents from the dusty ground.*

[Phelan Almaran]

Phelan sat quietly meditating in a corner of Cear when one of the vials dropped next to him. Picking it up curiously he unfolds the note, reads it, then sighs softly.

"May Ineania protect these good-hearted fools," he prays softly, quietly pocketing the vial then burning the note with a small burst of magic flame.

Standing quietly moves away, watching the falcons soaring in the sky, the warm sun caressing his face gently.

"Grandfather would love to see this," he smiled, "he was named for the soaring falcon after all..."

He notes the unease with many people and quietly sighs, but notes a soft look in many of the older citizens eyes, a look of both remembrance and fear.

"Many still remember... but they fear retribution. Is this truly the way to rule?"

Shaking his head he makes his way to the inn.

[Wumpus Slayer]

Friam is standing outside in Caer when the shadow of a bird passes by on the ground. Thinking nothing of it, he continues chatting with his friends.

Suddenly, he feels a blunt impact on the top of his head, as if someone had hit him from behind with a club, but not very hard. Spinning around and pulling out a blade to face his attacker, he soon realizes there is nobody there. As he looks down to re-sheath his blade, a small vial with an attached note drops from the brim of his hat onto the grass below. Remarkably, the vial is intact after the somewhat padded landing on his hat and on the grass.

Picking up the vial, Friam looks around to see who might be playing a joke on him. However, all he spots are other people looking equally confused, as apparently several others are picking up similar objects. Some are pointing to the sky, saying that they saw exploding birds.

Unrolling the note from the vial, Friam's eyes widen as he reads it. He quickly thrusts it into his pocket, so as not to be seen by the guards holding a heretical item. He heads over to Ealdon, who just shrugs his shoulders upon looking at the potion. Friam then then heads into the Alchemist's shop to inquire about the nature of the potion. Along the way, Friam tosses the scrap of paper into the nearest garbage bin.