Subject: It's been over two months.

Is this game officially dead?

Subject: Re: It's been over two months.

As much as I hate to say it, I think so.

Kor Garesh snuck up and devoured us all.

Subject: Re: It's been over two months.

Sniff. Poor Farron. He *knew* there was no way we'd win!

Subject: Re: It's been over two months.

I hope not.

Mark

Subject: Who would have won?

Rennik lunges forward, using the side of his axe to force Garyth to change position, trying to tangle up the taller man's feet, then deliver the knockout blow when the quick guardsman can't dodge. But long weeks of almost constant fighting have made the young man far more canny, and he slips backward out of range while still keeping his feet under him. Rennik winds up for a quick shot to the thigh to slow him down, when a strange wind blows through the clearing in front of Gully's trading post. The grass and brush around the two fighters are blown flat, and their hair is whipped around their heads. The guardsman Robert shouts, "What the hell is that?"

Garyth turns to look in the direction his man is pointing and sees a vague white shape, like a small cloud, descending rapidly toward them. In an instant, his grip on his weapons shifts. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rennik move to his side, axe gripped tightly. How like a family we are now. We fight among ourselves a bit, but in an instant we have each other's backs. He sees the two wizards plunge their hands into the pockets of their robes. Whatever new devilry this cloud represented, the group looked ready for it.

When the cloud reaches the ground, it begins to shimmer and shift, gradually taking on more and more opacity. After a few seconds, it becomes clear that it is man shaped. A few seconds after that, Farron and Sa'id shout and run toward it. Farron says, "Sunmaster! We had begun to think something terrible might have happened to you! We are so glad to see you."

Where the glowing white cloud had been, there is now just a very old man, standing unsteadily and leaning heavily on a large oak staff. Sa'id quickly moves to his side, putting one of the old man's arms across his shoulder. "Let me help you, Master Fellus."

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

OOC: All sorts of happiness now.

Mark

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

:cough cough: cop out :cough cough:

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

Osred wheels at the touch of the unnatural wind, the contest he'd been so immersed in a moment ago forgotten. Reflexes honed by decades of practice and nearly a hundred battles carry his body into a fighting stance, longsword held at the ready, even as his mind works at the puzzle of what this strange cloud could be. It doesn't look menacing, but he has no doubt that the demon can be cunning when it suits its purpose.

As the cloud coalesces into the form of a stooped old man, Osred sliently rebukes himself for not having prayed that morning for the ability to see into the hearts of men. One spell could have silenced or confirmed his doubt. As it is he will have to watch and judge for himself whether the man before them is truly the Sunmaster.

He lowers his sword as he strides toward the old man, but does not sheath it.

[OOC: When the Sunmaster begins speaking, Osred will be attempting to sense motive]

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

Pensive waits apprehensively to see what the old man will do.

Subject: who would win

Bartok sits watching the fight, silently rooting for the halfling to whip the man, when the wind changes and the strange old human shows up. These others seem to know the old man so Bartok waits to see what happens.

There is no way they would be able to get the old guy to the mountain.

msquared

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

It takes a few seconds for Farron's words to sink in. So this is the Sunmaster. Garyth relaxes a bit, straightening from the fighting crouch he had been in a moment before. He sheathes his weapons, looking at the old man.

Of course, Garyth had known Fellus wasn't a young man, but he'd never actually seen the Sunmaster before. Somehow, what with the journey ahead, he'd been expecting someone a bit less . . . infirm.

Garyth walks over to the old man. "Welcome, Sunmaster," he says with a small bow.

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

The Sunmaster weighs almost nothing. Sa'id feels as though he could almost lift the high priest himself and carry him through the jungle to the mountain. They would have to be careful. He would not tell the others that the Sunmaster wasn't expecting to return, unless the Sunmaster himself elected to make that public knowledge. Or Farron. Sa'id looks at his friend and smiles. "He's here," he says needlessly. "He's here." The one conduit of Pelor on the island through whom the god could speak as clearly as though he were here himself.

I might give my life in this cause, Sa'id realizes. I might die with the Sunmaster. And maybe, just maybe, if that happened, he would see...

I might even die willingly in this cause.

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

"Sa'id, I wonder if you wouldn't mind taking me inside for a bit. I need to sit down. Water too, if it's available."

Sa'id brings the old cleric inside as quickly as he can. Once the Sunmaster is seated at one of Gully's tables, with a full cup of water in front of him, he says, "Bring everyone inside, Sa'id. We must talk, and this discussion is for everyone's ears." Sa'id just looks up at Garyth, who goes outside to bring in his men. "Did anyone from Overlook survive? We've had no news of the outlying towns since the Duke ordered the city sealed."

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

Sa'id smiles. "Yes, Garyth and his men helped evacuate the town before the army arrived. The citizens of Overlook are under the protection of the Kalama halfling tribe. They have also sent one of their scouts to assist us."

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

Garyth nods. "The dark one sent his army after us. They caught up with us a few times." He pauses, images of children struck down by Murrkat arrows floating before his mind's eye. Of Kenneth falling. "We lost many," he says, struggling for a moment to control his emotions. "But most made it to the Kalama lands. It's only a temporary safety, though--the undead army was close on our heels. If their forward elements have not yet reached the Kalama sentries, they soon will."

Subject: Re: Who would have won?

Pensive comes inside with everyone else. There's not enough room around the table for everyone to sit, and the taller party members seem to have reached the chairs before him. Pensive climbs up lightly onto a window sill to get a better view of the Sunmaster's face.

He'd heard little talk of the old man, or his God in Nesalin-- the soldiers he'd been instructing had preferred Hieronius, the battle lord, he believed. And Pensive had little interest in Gods. The Path of Blood and Stone taught that the Gods were benevolent ancestors who nonetheless, had wandered away slightly from the right order of things. Seeking aggrandizement and honor and worship-- that was not the way of the Path. Pensive bore Gods and priests no ill-will-- each, in their turn, would come to know Blood and Stone.

Elvira's holy symbol bumps against his chest as he shifts on his perch. Pensive touches it, finds a little comfort there. Perhaps the Sunmaster would better know where it came from.

Subject: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

Fellus smiles at Garyth's news that the town was not totally destroyed, but frowns when the guardsman explains how temporary their safety might be.

"I fear that my news is all bad. My loyal pupil and friend, Father Colin, has been slain. He was killed while trying to help me leave the city. Father Dominic's fate is unknown to me, though I fear for him as well. The city has gone mad with fear and suspicion. In this climate, Elise's evil spreads quickly. She has but to accuse someone of being in league with the demon, and they are taken away. I tried to use the aid of my God in exposing her black heart to others, but she seems to be magically protected from this sort of scrying.

"Finally, I was forced to call on Pelor for a powerful blessing that gave me the ability to flee the city, though using such powerful gifts leaves me greatly weakened. I only hope that I have not left myself too weak for the journey the mountain." His face grows hard for a moment. "No! I have not. Pelor grants me strength, and no human frailty is beyond his power to overcome."

He drinks more water. "But now we come to what must be done. I have been granted a vision and wisdom from Pelor. One of his mighty servants walks this island, and guides those who fight the demon. This servant came to me in a dream. You must take me to the black temple, where I can pray that Pelor will intervene in our behalf. This you know. But the way will be hard and fraught with more than one kind of peril. The demon's servants you are well aware of. Fortunately, most of them are away from his temple, and only a small force remains in reserve. The demon is growing ever more powerful, but he is holding this power back, trying to gain strength enough to shatter his prison once and for all. This means he will not be using his power to create more undead, or grant his servants unusual gifts. This helps us, though it also creates a new peril. It is of this peril that I must speak.

"The Demon is as strong now as it has ever been. Stronger, perhaps. It will not attack us physically as we travel, but it will be attacking our will, our goodness, our desire to do right. And it will be strong. Very strong. To survive without losing our will, we must be as pure as we can. We must shed fear, doubt, hate, suspicion, anger. We must leave no room for the demon to enter our minds."

The Sunmaster looks about the room, staring each man in the eye. "If you can not do this, then you must remain behind. If you come with us, and give the demon room to use you against us, you may doom us all. Better that you stay here."

He leans back, "But I can help. I will consecrate a place here as holy ground. And I will hear the confession of each man who is willing to open himself to me. And I will pray to Pelor on the man's behalf for cleansing and strength of purpose. Only by purifying ourselves in this way, will we be strong enough to brave the temple. Without Pelor's grace, we WILL fail."

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

Holy shit.

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

Bartok speaks up. "Human priest, your damn right about the evil. My people have been fighting it since it started. But do you demand that I bow to your human god? "

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

"Bow? No. Ask for his protection and blessing on our path to the demon's temple? Yes. For reasons beyond our ken, the other god's have chosen not to intervene in this matter. Pelor will be our shield here, or no one at all."

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

Pensive smiles. He can't help it-- the Sunmaster's voice tickles him with warmth and comfort. He smells like warm bread, like wood in the fireplace, like comfort.

Pensive can't stop grinning either. As serious as the news is, as dire as the situation, here was hope. A grim hope, too, and here he was smiling like a giddy boy. Which was how the Sunmaster would certainly see him, if he didn't clean the stupid grin off his face and address him with the respect he deserved.

He hadn't felt this way since Deacon Comfort had found him in Little Grelling.

"Sunmaster," Pensive says, trying to look solemn and respectful. But he can feel all the freckles on his cheeks itching into a smile again. It was really no use. "I'll confess to you."

He'd have to find out from someone what a confession actually entailed, later.

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

"I will accept the blessings of any god that is good, especially in this dark time. Will you accept the blessings of the spirits of the Kamala?"

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

Fellus smiles, and then says in flawless Halfling, "All the powers of good are Pelor's allies in the eternal struggle, and so are my ally as well. I hope that the Lady of Root and Branch does watch our path and bless us."

Subject: Re: The Sunmaster speaks of purity

Bartok is stunned. This human spoke his language like he was born to it. He knew of the Lady.

He drops to his knees. "I will confess to you. I will serve you in this mission. I will watch over you when I can. I will defend you with my life. My word as Kamala makes this so."

When the time to confess comes around Bartok will do so.

Subject: Confessions?

As the Sunmaster speaks of purity and confession, Sa'd struggles to keep his face composed [Bluff]. Fellus' presence was comforting, immensely so, but would his forgiveness and grace be so readily granted if he heard the thoughts that had been lurking in Sa'id's mind?

Flame and death, misgivings about the creation of undead, resentment toward Pelor. These had all been churning in his mind, consciously or otherwise, since their last stop at Gully's. What did these thoughts amount to?

Treachery.

The realization rushes through him, leaving no room for disbelief or rationalization. He dreamt it, but then only half-remembered when he awoke after the battle with the wraiths. A dream of an army of undead abominations at his command, a dream of slaughtering his own companions and... what? Where is Melancthnagesh in this dream?

Absent.

Imprisoned? Destroyed? Does it matter? Could I unconsciously have planned to follow this course, help Pelor imprison the Devourer, only to seek to replace the mighty demon? Does my arrogance know no bounds?

This is madness. I must be losing my mind. This is just Melancthnagesh trying to poison me, turn me against the others.

Is it? Don't I -- haven't I always -- craved the kind of power he represents, and tried to avoid it for that same reason?

I'm not sure.

Sa'id does not speak, and instead listens to the others make their promises of confession.

OOC: Sa'id will wait until everyone else has promised to confess. If they all do, he will add his own voice to the chorus of promises. If not, he will say nothing for the time being.

Subject: Re: Confessions?

Garyth raises an eyebrow at the halfling words coming out of the Sunmaster's mouth. It seems the old man had surprises yet--maybe Pelor really would see him through to the mountain.

"I will give you my confession, Sunmaster," he says. "But . . ." It slips out before Garyth can catch himself. He doesn't turn to see if Osred or the Falcons noticed. It would be an admission of the doubt gnawing at him, and to see their commander wavering might make the men begin to lose their resolve. They might hesitate or give in to their own fears at the wrong moment.

Fellus' admonition had only made Garyth's worry increase--shepherding the people of Overlook and fighting the demon's soldiers had taken everything he had. And even at that, he had still not succeeded. People under his care and men under his command had suffered and died despite his best efforts. Against the Dark One, himself, what chance had he?

All of this needed to be said. The Sunmaster had to know what lay in the hearts of his companions. But not where the men could hear it.

"But... I must see to our perimeter first," Garyth finishes, his words sounding lame in his own ears. Hopefully it was enough. He signals to the Falcons and leads them outside to take up their sentry posts again.

Subject: Re: Confessions?

We're waiting on Dan, Karl, and Matt by my count...

Subject: Re: Confessions?

Farron's joy at the Sunmaster's sudden appearance is palpable. The darkness that has gripped his heart these last hours (days? weeks?) is almost forgotten. He moves to help the Sunmaster, but Sa'id is already there, helping him into Gully's home, and the Sunmaster doesn't give Farron a second look. No matter. His journey was clearly taxing and it didn't take two of them to help the old man into the house.

Inside, Farron listens as the Sunmaster speaks of Pelor and The Demon, of dark power and of hope, of purity. The Sunmaster was right. Fear and doubt, anger and suspicion were the portals through which the darkness could enter. This wasn't a matter of faith. It was fact, cold, dark and tight around his heart.

The Sunmaster looks around the room, meeting each man eye-to-eye, and Farron fears what is coming. He fears what the Sunmaster might see, yet he longs to be seen, to be helped. The longing is stronger than the fear, apparently, because he is able to meet the Sunmaster's gaze and hold it just as he utters the words "Better that you stay here." Rejected. But what did you expect? He doesn't even need you. Sa'id is his chosen. You're just redundant.

"But I can help," the Sunmaster continues, just as Farron was about to break the gaze and look anywhere but those sharp, clear eyes set in that wrinkled face. Help. The word echoed in his head setting up a vibration that seemed to crack a shell he hadn't even realized had formed around him. Tiny rays of light seemed to flicker through the cracks and for the first time in days hope didn't seem like folly. Confession. The new word seemed to hit him twice, coming at him once with a face of hope, offering a new start and new strength, but then rebounding with another darker face, promising shame, pain, rejection. The old man will lure you onto holy ground, and there you will die! Farron shuddered at the prospect of facing the Sunmaster. He felt like the very embodiment of all the old man's warnings. Maybe the Sunmaster could help. Or maybe Farron would end as a cautionary tale for the others. Either way he'd be free. . .

"So be it," he says, surprised to hear the words aloud. "I will confess to you."

Subject: The sunmaster's confession

Fellus pauses, letting the weight of each man's words settle in the room. His hesitance to proceed showing the gravity of the commitment to each man far more than speeches would. Finally, he says quietly to Kasen, "Knight? Could you please bring the others back inside?" Kasen briefly considers correcting the Sunmaster on his proper title, but is then almost overwhelmed by a sudden realization. When High Priest Fellus, Sunmaster of Pelor calls you a Knight, then you ARE one, or no one is. He steps out and calls to Garyth and the guardsmen.

Once everyone is inside, Fellus has the men clear away the benches and tables from the common room, creating an open space in the middle of the floor. He kneels there, gesturing for everyone else to kneel in a circle. He grabs Sa'id's hand to have the wizard sit next to him, and much to Farron's surprise, pulls Farron down at his other side. He says in a whisper to them both, "Please stay by my side. I will need your strength for this."

He waits for the men to get settled and quiet, then says in a mild voice that lacks any hint of an old man's waver, "Men, brothers, children of light. It is not only to the Gods that we must expose ourselves in open confession, but to one another. Each man must know the pain and doubt of the man at his side, so that when one is threatened, all may act to save him. Make no mistake. The greatest threat to your soul you will ever face will be the journey to the demon's black temple. It will be better for the man who falls in battle along the way, than for the man who surrenders himself to the Dread Devourer. I call upon Pelor for supplication and strength, and some of you do as well. But all the Gods of Good are Pelor's ally in this struggle. The Mighty Sun, the Lord of Battles, the Lady of Root and Branch; no matter which of them you call upon, your voice today will be heard."

A silence descends upon the room. Almost it seems to have been separated off from the rest of the world, and things outside the circle become faint and indistinct. The Sunmaster removes a large candle and a gold bound book from his pack, and places them on the floor in front of him. The candle he lights, then pushes out to the center of the circle. The book he opens and leaves lying on the floor in front of him. There is a ceremony to his movements. A grace that comes from much repetition. When he reads from the book, his voice is a song, deep and powerful.

Sunlord, lifebringer
Death makes way
A lifetime is given
Let us dwell in it

Lightbringer, darkbane
Shadows give way
A bright place is given
Let us dwell in it

Lawgiver, soul teacher
Evil gives way
A path is given
Let us dwell in it

When he finishes, there is something in the air that makes the hair stand on end. Something else is in the room. Something ancient and vast beyond comprehension. Farron and Sa'id share one glance. They have felt this before, in the room where Sa'id spoke truth before Pelor.

Fellus removes some of the tension by smiling at the men around him. "I will go first."

"My name is Davoram Fellus. By the Grace of Pelor, called to service in His great name. I have walked this world for 120 years, 110 of them dedicated to the Sunlord. I know that he holds a great place for his faithful worshippers in the Bright Halls. I know that glory beyond understanding awaits us there. I know that eternal joy in his service and at his feet as his children is what he offers to those who follow him." He pauses, swallowing loudly, "And I am afraid to die. I came to this place knowing what was expected of me. Knowing that I must face the demon and his servants. Knowing that my life matters not at all as long as the darkness is driven back. But still I am afraid. And I am afraid of what my fear means about me. How strong is my faith if I fear to face Pelor's final judgements? I fear that I will not be strong enough, and that the demon will win. I fear that I will fail those counting on me to succeed so that they may live. I fear what I will tell Pelor when I must stand before him and explain why I was not strong enough to do his will."

He closes his eyes, "Pelor, grant me strength beyond my own. Grant me power to do this one final work in your name. Please, help me find my courage."

He stops, a long silence draws out, then he turns and looks at Sa'id, and smiles.

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Sa'id's head is spinning. Confession now? And what would Fellus possibly have to confess? It is all Sa'id can do not to bolt from the room. He takes the Sunmaster's hand, still in a daze, and kneels beside him.

Then he feels the presence.

A tremor runs through the necromancer's body. I can't lie, he thinks. I am doomed.

The Sunmaster begins his confession. Fear? The Sunmaster was afraid? Surprising. Moving, even -- and suddenly, Sa'id is choking back tears. Even one so suffused with grace, so close to his god, could still be afraid? It made the Sunmaster... one of them.

But he can still feel the pressure of the divine on his skull, and he can't banish the knowledge that likes will burn with punitive fire, far more painful than anything Sa'id could ever conjure.

Fear. All of them felt fear. Fear was not a sin. The Sunmaster wasn't... hadn't... couldn't entertain the possibility of betrayal and murder. Nor Farron, nor Kasen, nor Garyth... none of them. The darkness burns in my heart, and I am alone in this. Sa'id can feel himself teetering on the brink of something, rocking back and forth, as though on a tightrope. The slightest misstep could send him plummeting into madness.

Fellus smiles at him. A smile of relief and of grace. Fellus was relieved to have confessed his fear before everyone. It is more than the necromancer can bear -- the tears come, and he bows his head, sobbing quietly.

OOC: Sa'id is not ready to confess, not quite yet.

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Are we waiting for the Sunmaster to call on someone else?

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Ty if you want a character to volunteer, Bartok will. If you want the Sunmaster to pick the order that works for me as well.

Mark

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

It's an open floor. Anyone can go whenever they want.

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

(OOC - I haven't gotten any of the emails between Farron's last turn and this one. I believe the game mailing lists are being filtered out by my work email, although not completely. In Mark's game, if he includes my work address ([removed by editor]) separate from the game mailing list I can get the emails no problem. That would probably work here, too. I hate to add the inconvenience, but otherwise I'll just have to catch up when the emails are updated on sakeriver. I haven't had time when at home to check email in weeks. /OOC)

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

OOC: I'm having the WORST time writing up a confession...

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Forwarding the last few emails for karl.

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Farron's heart skipped a beat as the Sunmaster pulls him down by his side. He half expected to be struck down at that moment. The ceremony makes him nervous. He was never particularly religious, though he could not doubt anymore that the beings others worshipped were beings of great power. He hears the Sunmaster's confession, as well as his plea for strength. He wonders at the faith of this man even as he remembers Cadfael. Cadfael, valiant to the end, and in the end discarded. His heart skips another beat as he realizes he is perilously close to thinking things that Pelor might find blasphemous. He was quickly running out of hope of ever getting off his knees again alive.

As the Sunmaster ends his confession Farron sees him smile at Sa'id, but rather than begin his own confession, his friend simply bows his head and sobs. What was it about Sa'id that this Pelor would fill with such strong feelings of devotion while Farron only felt fear? Well, it would probably be the last straw, him speaking out of turn, but somewhere inside he must have know it was speak now, or never find the strength. He begins so abruptly that the break in the silence startles him, even though it was he that broke it. The words come out almost of their own will, and he feels almost like he is listening to someone else speak.

"My name is Farron Uphill. I'm 23 years old. In that time I have seen a lot of the world and heard many stories of the gods and their dealings among men. Beyond the stories I know nothing. I don't dis-believe, but I have not worshipped, and I have no faith in rewards beyond this island. I, too, am afraid to die. I'm sure my life matters no more to Pelor, than any of the other lives lost on this island, and probably even less than some. But it matters to me. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live in fear, either, but I do, or at least I have for many days now. I'm afraid of the darkness that has awakened in the heart of my homeland. I'm afraid of the terrible creatures it has at its command. I'm afraid of its power because I have felt it. I've heard it in my heart, offering -" dare he say it? Surely Pelor already knew, and if He didn't kill him for it here and now, the others surely would after. They'd never trust his loyalty again if they knew. How could they? "I've heard it offering reward for betrayal of our party when we were back in the mountain. Of course, I didn't betray my friends. I didn't. But I've felt that darkness again, and I can't shut it up." Farron stops and turns his face to his shoulder, unable to bear the eyes of the others. After a minute he continues.

"All that is good has been laid waste and scattered across this island. Nothing good has come of this being's rise. I know there is no reward from it worth having so now it only speaks to me of despair. For that I have no counter attack. My home is gone. My family dead or scattered. I want to hope that the darkness can be beaten, but I fear I have nothing to give. You who follow gods have strength of faith, at least. If there is any hope, it lies with you. I want to do my part, but the closer I've come to you who feel divine strength, the less worthy I feel. What can I give when so many better than I have already fallen?" Done, Farron slumps back on his heels and awaits his fate.

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Karl, you rock.

Subject: Bartok speaks

When Farron is done Bartok steps forward and speaks in halfling.

"I am Bartok of the Kalama, called Stonegrip by my tribe. Until the darkness came the there was nothing I feared. I respected the jungle. I respected the swamp dragon. I respected the mountain. But fear? I did not fear. I had contempt: contempt for the weak humans who lived behind the walls of their cities, contempt for how soft they are, contempt for their easy life." Bartok hesitates for a second before he goes on. "I do resent how my tribe has treated me. I have always felt like an outsider, even among my own people. They liked the forest but I preferred the mountain. I would climb its cliffs and find its secret ways. I heard the others talk behind my back about how much time I spent on the mountain."

"I resented it when they named Melani as the First Scout instead of me. I felt that she got that position because of her family, not her skill and I hated her for that. Now she is likely dead, defending the humans I despised. That she despised. Why did she die for them? There is a part of me that wants my people to pay for how I was treated. Now I think it might have been the evil of the mountain, that all my time there has had an effect on me. I ask the Lady of the Root and Branch as well as this Pelor of yours for his blessing. I ask that my anger be taken away."

msquared

Subject: Pensive Confesses

It is the first time in months that Pensive has felt utterly, completely...still. The old man's song fills his head with brightness and warmth, and then the itching of the Shadow and the press of men's emotions just...dissolves. The release is so sudden, Pensive wobbles and has to steady himself by putting his hand on the floor.

It is the stillness of the Mossground. Not silence, exactly-- but a quiet that fills his ears rather than emptying them. He doesn't breathe-- does he even need to? And when he does, just to see that he can, he breathes in the air of Bannock's Ire and the smell of home. Woodfires, and spice and sweetness from Rigor's garden, and sweat from the boys and girls in the exercise yard. He can taste the glacier behind the mountain, and the ice that lay there all year round, and the coldness of the runoff pool where he'd learned to swim.

Home.

And teasing all along those smells and tastes is the feel of the wind. A river wind. Mountain and river, monk and elf. Stone and Blood.

"I am Elf of the Gnomes of Little Grelling, Pensive of the Path of Blood and Stone, and Weeping Thistle of the Low Elves. I am Asha Eradu, in the language of the High Elves. I am Pensive, and I named myself on the Mossground when I was nine years old, thirty-six years ago." Pensive doesn't know what language he's speaking. It sounds to him like a harmony of gnomish and low elvish and Common. But thinking on it, he couldn't define what language the others who had spoken had used. Here, we all know one another. Here, the borders between us, the borders of culture and language, are gone. Here, we can be brothers and compatriots with no reservations because we must all expose our weaknesses.

Pensive continues, "I have felt the Shadow that dwells in Kessel. I have shared its dreams of murder, and felt the burning of its maw in my own mouth. I know the lust that it thrusts outward from itself. I fear...I fear it shall devour my mind before it devours my soul. I fear that I am too weak to turn aside from the temptation. This morning, it pressed upon me, trying to drown me in my own bile. And I could not tell you now if it was the Shadow, or if it was myself that desired my death."

"Blood and Stone, abide in me. Flesh be Stone, Blood be Stone."

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Mike.

Raja (?).

Matt.

Bob.

Don't let the game die here...

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

There's a long pause after Pensive finishes. Garyth realizes that he has to speak. When he'd told the Sunmaster that he would give his confession, he'd expected that it would happen in private, where it couldn't do any harm. But to back out now would be just as much an admission of weakness as just to speak. And he does want to speak, Garyth realizes. The burden of silent worry and doubt has been wearing him down, and he wants to let it go.

He lets out a long sigh, then speaks. "My name is Garyth tel'Ardan." He pauses, unsure of what to say next. The words come slowly at first. "A few days ago I saw an army routed by an image of the demon, when victory was nearly theirs and would have saved my home. The soldiers broke and ran and tripped over their own feet in their fear. I know that fear, because I felt a shadow of it when we first met Mission's mistress, here at the trading post a few weeks ago. I had always thought myself a brave man, but I ran like a child from that woman, my terror was so blind. I don't know how I will be able to stand before the demon, if I can't even face his minion."

Oddly, his voice seems more sure now than before, and the words come more easily. "But more than that, even if I find the courage to stand, I doubt I have the strength or skill that this task needs. I'm young--my twenty-first birthday is next month. I don't know of anyone else as young as me that was made captain and given command, and the past few days have made me realize that I'm not ready for it. If times were different, I would have room for mistakes and miscalculations, but times are what they are. Every error costs a life, and I have made many errors." In his mind, he can still hear the screams of the townspeople as they fell beneath the halfling arrows, or as they were crushed by the fleeing mass of their own neighbors. "We lost dozens of people on the road to the forest. I was in command--every one of those lives was my responsibility."

"I don't know if the gods can make me a better soldier, but I have no other hope remaining. I know my own strength is not enough." Garyth swallows and closes his eyes. "I put myself in Pelor's hands now, to place me on what path he sees fit. I pray that he gives me the strength to walk it, wherever it leads."

Subject: Re: The sunmaster's confession

Osred clears his throat. "I am Osred, servant of Hieroneus," he booms, his voice rolling richly over the group. I have striven to do right and protect the weak since the Lord lifted me from the cesspool of moral filth I'd wallowed in most of my life. I..." here he pauses for a moment, the oratory quality of his voice faltering. When he resumes speaking he seems smaller, somehow. "I have not always succeeded. In fighting the servants of the demon, I have taken joy in the glory of battle, not just to honor Hieroneus, but also for myself." His voice deepens, carrying clearly to everyone's ears, louder than it needs to be, in truth. "I have been proud, too sure of myself and not just of the Lord. I have wanted to see the blood of his halfling servants on my blade, not just as tribute to Hieroneus, but for myself, to avenge my men and my wounded pride. In perfect service to my god there is no room for the demon's will to grapple with my own, but going down that path, doing battle for my own glory, taking pride in abilities that are mine only through Hieroneus' grace--that the demon can use. He could could twist me until I served him in all but name. In the light of Pelor I rededicate myself to Hieroneus. Just as my Lord serves yours, Sunmaster, lending his strong right arm where it may serve, so I will serve you in fighting this evil, lending you strength where I may, and accepting strength from you in return."