Dwarven Cleric
May. 13th, 2006 02:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookish_dragonThis game took place on a world frozen in ice and snow due to some horrible incident in the past. Emmar became a Firepriestess, a Cleric with the Fire-domain. Given that the Wastes are crawling with undead, it's not a bad idea to have a cleric with your party. Firestones are especially valuable, since they provide warmth in places where a normal fire can't be kindled. You do need a priest to recharge them.
Emmar sighs as she puts on her cloak and heavy outdoor boots. Silly Berie, slipping away like that. Knotting her scarf against the cold wind, Emmar makes her way to the gates of the Dwarventown, placed at the edge of the mountains in Votaine, and leaves the relative warmth in search for her younger sister. Beryl was always reckless, not seeming to grasp the very real dangers that lay waiting in the eternal winter.
Emmar mutters under her breath as the cold hits her, trying to get through her clothes, mutters at her sister and at her parents for sending her to find Berie. She has a good idea where to find Berie, and she walks off in the direction of the low hill range west of the mountain-range. What Berie finds so interesting there, Emmar doesn’t know. Berie mutters something about the stone-structure when asked, but not much more.
Most creatures don’t come close to the city anymore, having learned that it’ll result in either being chased off or getting killed. All the times Emma has gone after Berie she’s never met anything she couldn’t handle, and she walks off quite unconcernedly, pulling her cloak tighter against the wind.
***
Berie sits, shaded by the hills, and looks out over the lower grounds between her and the city. A small figure’s walking closer, and she doesn’t need to see the red of the hair to know it’s Emmar, being sent out to get her. Frost! Why can’t they leave her alone in the cold? The comforting cold, the freezing beauty, the stark clarity. The Flame is for those too weak, a lie.
She watches her sister come closer, sent to get her for a mundane task, not for the frst time idly toying with the idea of dispensing of Emmar. There were still a few creatures here, despite the town’s efforts, and they were far away from the city…No! It would be better to teach them the truth all at the same time. The disappearance of her who was to be the next Firepriestess of the city would arouse too many suspicions too.
They’d told patience was a virtue, and that she’d have to bide her time. She kicks. Ice! She doesn’t want to wait anymore.
As Emmar walks past Berie jumps out of her hiding-place, slipping into her fire-addled routine.
‘Emmar!’
‘Berie, there you are. Come on, dad needs our help at the forge, there’s been a lot of orders.’
‘Sure as the Flame, Emmar.’
Emmar laughs and they walk back to the city.
***
The day for Emerald Lokya’s departure to the temple at Shevat draws closer. She’s had some training at temples nearby already, but Shevat holds the final say in whether Emmar’d become a Priestess. Add to that the benefits of having a Priestess who’s seen more of the world than just the city, and who has done her duty in the Wastes, and it’s not a difficult decision to make.
Over the course of a few weeks, materials start missing. Small things first, like simple tools, but later on the damage done by the thefts gets worse. Incendiaries vanish, firestones waiting to be recharged. Given the places some of the goods were stolen from, travellers in the city are quickly ruled out, and suspicion arises within the community. Guards are posted, and one of the perpetrators gets caught in the act. There’s a wave of disbelief as the thief turns out to be Beryl Lokya. Apart from Berie’s embrace of the Cold, the questioning doesn’t get much out of the girl, and she refuses to name the others involved.
The Lokyas are shattered by these events. Berie’d spent a lot of time on her own outside and inside of the city, yes. They’d never seen much wrong with it, there had been no indications that Beryl was becoming an Icicle. Careful questioning showed Emmar to be not a follower of the Cold like her sister, and the decision to send her to Shevat doesn’t get withdrawn.
For endangering the city, its inhabitants and for refusing to repent for following the Cold, Beryl gets sentenced to death. Emmar weeps for her sister during the execution of the sentence, praying she’ll make peace with the Flame, and thinking about the conversation she’d managed to sneak while Berie was locked up. In answer to the question Why, Berie’d become hostile. She’d hated Emmar, for being there first, for being able to get out of the city, for everything. She’d wanted to take her down, along with the rest of the freezing city. Emmar’d recoiled from the fierceness of Berie’s words, fearful and puzzled. How come she’d not noticed this before? Thinking back on the time they’d spent together, there were some instances where Berie’d not been as cheerful as usual, but those were easy to explain away then. Angered enough by Emmar’s presence, Beryl’d also let slip some names of people in town who’d helped her with her actions. After Emmar got away, she reported those names, the people taking in for questioning. Some of them held positions on the council.
***
At Shevat, Emmar spends as much time training as she does getting over her sister’s hate, treachery and death. Flame be praised, her soul was safe now, but she still doesn’t understand why she chose to embrace the Cold. It’s not a topic she discusses much, ashamed to not being able to have helped her sister.
She graduates, and gets sent out with caravans, seeing this as a way to repent for her failing. One day, she knows, when the church decides she’s ready for the responsibility, she’ll have to go home, to take up her duties there. Not something she’s looking forward to, but she will when she has to.
Emmar sighs as she puts on her cloak and heavy outdoor boots. Silly Berie, slipping away like that. Knotting her scarf against the cold wind, Emmar makes her way to the gates of the Dwarventown, placed at the edge of the mountains in Votaine, and leaves the relative warmth in search for her younger sister. Beryl was always reckless, not seeming to grasp the very real dangers that lay waiting in the eternal winter.
Emmar mutters under her breath as the cold hits her, trying to get through her clothes, mutters at her sister and at her parents for sending her to find Berie. She has a good idea where to find Berie, and she walks off in the direction of the low hill range west of the mountain-range. What Berie finds so interesting there, Emmar doesn’t know. Berie mutters something about the stone-structure when asked, but not much more.
Most creatures don’t come close to the city anymore, having learned that it’ll result in either being chased off or getting killed. All the times Emma has gone after Berie she’s never met anything she couldn’t handle, and she walks off quite unconcernedly, pulling her cloak tighter against the wind.
***
Berie sits, shaded by the hills, and looks out over the lower grounds between her and the city. A small figure’s walking closer, and she doesn’t need to see the red of the hair to know it’s Emmar, being sent out to get her. Frost! Why can’t they leave her alone in the cold? The comforting cold, the freezing beauty, the stark clarity. The Flame is for those too weak, a lie.
She watches her sister come closer, sent to get her for a mundane task, not for the frst time idly toying with the idea of dispensing of Emmar. There were still a few creatures here, despite the town’s efforts, and they were far away from the city…No! It would be better to teach them the truth all at the same time. The disappearance of her who was to be the next Firepriestess of the city would arouse too many suspicions too.
They’d told patience was a virtue, and that she’d have to bide her time. She kicks. Ice! She doesn’t want to wait anymore.
As Emmar walks past Berie jumps out of her hiding-place, slipping into her fire-addled routine.
‘Emmar!’
‘Berie, there you are. Come on, dad needs our help at the forge, there’s been a lot of orders.’
‘Sure as the Flame, Emmar.’
Emmar laughs and they walk back to the city.
***
The day for Emerald Lokya’s departure to the temple at Shevat draws closer. She’s had some training at temples nearby already, but Shevat holds the final say in whether Emmar’d become a Priestess. Add to that the benefits of having a Priestess who’s seen more of the world than just the city, and who has done her duty in the Wastes, and it’s not a difficult decision to make.
Over the course of a few weeks, materials start missing. Small things first, like simple tools, but later on the damage done by the thefts gets worse. Incendiaries vanish, firestones waiting to be recharged. Given the places some of the goods were stolen from, travellers in the city are quickly ruled out, and suspicion arises within the community. Guards are posted, and one of the perpetrators gets caught in the act. There’s a wave of disbelief as the thief turns out to be Beryl Lokya. Apart from Berie’s embrace of the Cold, the questioning doesn’t get much out of the girl, and she refuses to name the others involved.
The Lokyas are shattered by these events. Berie’d spent a lot of time on her own outside and inside of the city, yes. They’d never seen much wrong with it, there had been no indications that Beryl was becoming an Icicle. Careful questioning showed Emmar to be not a follower of the Cold like her sister, and the decision to send her to Shevat doesn’t get withdrawn.
For endangering the city, its inhabitants and for refusing to repent for following the Cold, Beryl gets sentenced to death. Emmar weeps for her sister during the execution of the sentence, praying she’ll make peace with the Flame, and thinking about the conversation she’d managed to sneak while Berie was locked up. In answer to the question Why, Berie’d become hostile. She’d hated Emmar, for being there first, for being able to get out of the city, for everything. She’d wanted to take her down, along with the rest of the freezing city. Emmar’d recoiled from the fierceness of Berie’s words, fearful and puzzled. How come she’d not noticed this before? Thinking back on the time they’d spent together, there were some instances where Berie’d not been as cheerful as usual, but those were easy to explain away then. Angered enough by Emmar’s presence, Beryl’d also let slip some names of people in town who’d helped her with her actions. After Emmar got away, she reported those names, the people taking in for questioning. Some of them held positions on the council.
***
At Shevat, Emmar spends as much time training as she does getting over her sister’s hate, treachery and death. Flame be praised, her soul was safe now, but she still doesn’t understand why she chose to embrace the Cold. It’s not a topic she discusses much, ashamed to not being able to have helped her sister.
She graduates, and gets sent out with caravans, seeing this as a way to repent for her failing. One day, she knows, when the church decides she’s ready for the responsibility, she’ll have to go home, to take up her duties there. Not something she’s looking forward to, but she will when she has to.
