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Stories of a Cleric | Korba the Faithful
Stories of a Cleric
A small bound book scuffed and stained from many adventures.
Thursday, 31 July 2008
The Roses of Lyneth

Long ago in the village of Watherhaven a wicked and cruel man named Silven ruled. He taxed the merchants and farmers mercilessly, so that all things of worth and beauty would be afforded by him alone. Such it had been for a long time, and the villagers knew no different. They were a good and kindhearted people and always greeted Sunrifter's rising with joy and thanksgiving.

For all his wealth and power, however, there was one thing Silven did not posses. A merchant couple in the village had been blessed with a beautiful and bright daughter whom they named Lyneth, which means, "Beautiful One." So great was her beauty that her mere presence would brighten up the village as she traveled from place to place, selling her parents' wares. She smiled and greeted everyone and all were filled with happiness when they saw her. Silven would watch her from the highest window of his villa, his dark and menacing eyes followed her every step.

It came to pass that Lyneth and Goran, a local farmer's son met and fell in love. The villagers were overjoyed at this, as there was little to be gleeful of in Waterhaven at that time. They reveled in the young lovers playful words and furtive glances. Every morning, Lyneth and Goran would meet in Waterhaven's main bazaar, their eyes could not contain their bliss. Sometimes they would walk together and share secret words and other times, when they were apart...the villagers would catch Goran searching the crowd for Lyneth. They saw, too, that when his eyes found her, she would always somehow be aware and knowingly turn her gaze to him, smiling at him with an open heart. Goran's face would soften then and he would grab his chest and feign stumbling, as if overcome with love for his Lyneth.

For many months, Silven watched Lyneth and Goran and every moment his jealousy grew. He seethed from his window, watching the joy shared between the two and his heart would pound with bitter fierceness. He wanted her for his own, not to love or to adore, but only as a possession. In his twisted mind, all things in Waterhaven were his. Lyneth was no different.

One day, Goran was called to Silven's home to take a message to Ryn, a town that was far from Waterhaven. The journey would take many, many months and while Goran was hesitant and saddened to leave Waterhaven and his beloved Lyneth, he also knew no one refused a request from Silven. The morning of Goran's departure was foggy and damp, as if the very world around them was mourning the departure. Lyneth stood, holding Goran's handsome face in her hands for what seemed an age. He brushed away her silent tears and turned to depart. Just as the fog was about to envelop him, Goran turned to where she was standing. Lyneth's eyes found his and she smiled smiled through her tears. Goran grinned and grabbed his chest, stumbling off into the fog.

It was not long until Silven was on Goran's trail. Two nights had passed when Silven found where Goran was making camp. In the dead of night, he thrust himself upon Goran's sleeping form and murdered him; cutting off his head and burying his remains near a thicket of thorny bushes. Satisfied with his evil deed, Silven returned to Waterhaven.

For many weeks and many months, Lyneth waited for Goran's return until one day Silven announced that surely the young farm boy had perished on his journey. Upon hearing this news, Lyneth grabbed at her own chest and beagn to scream. The scream was so mournful and heart wrenching that the villagers immediately began to weep for her and her beloved. Lyneth collapsed to the ground then, her eyes empty, her heart broken beyond repair.

The night of the evil deed, unbeknownst to Silven was witnessed by a tiny forest spirit. Some call them fireflies, but what they are in reality are the sparks that the glorious goddess Miranda trails as she travels above Trinald. Sometimes, these small sparks fall to the land below and fly about Valorn, seemingly possessing a small bit of the goddesses sense of wonder and light. These tiny sparks favor the forests, but can be found all over the lands, overseeing the lands at night and reporting back to Miranda any sort of foul deed. Upon witnessing Gorans' murder, the tiny spark was so saddened and so moved that he flew to Miranda's side and shared with her what he had seen. It was unlike the tiny sparks to become involved in the affairs of humans, but this little ones tale of woe was such that the goddess sent him back with a fitting message for both a black heart and a crushed spirit.

She gifted the tiny spark with a deadly poisoned spear and without a word, permitted him to avenge this wicked deed with a nod of her head. He followed the sadness in the air until he arrived at Lyneth's window. He was so taken aback by the pitiful yet lovely sight of her that he was overcome with emotion and immediately flew to her sleeping frame and whispered in her ear,

"O Sweet One, I beg, weep no more!
I shall tell you a secret of the One you adore.
His body lies buried in the wood far from here.
I shall tell you how to find him so you shall again have him near.
Evil did happen to this One you so adore,
But fear not, Sweet One, I shall avenge you both evermore."

The spark's eyes grew dark then and he followed the stench of wickedness to Silven's window. There he glared at the wicked man for many moments before flying in through the window. He hovered above Silven's body and whispered,

Evil doer evil doer, your deeds I despise."
"Wicked man wicked man, open your eyes."
"Dark heart, dark heart, tis this night I do bring."
"Your punishment for that which you believed unseen."

Silven's eyes flashed open, but before he could utter a word, the tiny spark began to pierce him with his poison spear. Many times, the spark did stab him; in his eyes, upon his lips and tongue, until Silven's body lie motionless, overcome by the little sparks powerful poisoned spear. He lay there, his eyes wide and his mouth, twisted in an agonizing grimace.

The tiny spark had also whispered the location and directions of Goran's body to Lyneth that night and upon waking, she pulled her weakened and fragile body from her bed and made the journey to the thorny thicket. She began to dig at the ground with her hands until she discovered the severed head. She lifted it with her hands and brushed away the debris from her beloved Goran's hair and kissed the dirt away from his mouth with her own. She carried the head all the way back to her home, where she placed it in a pot and planted a beautiful crimson rose bush on top of it.

Many marcs Lyneth would sit by her rose bush, weeping and slowly losing her very will to live. With every pure and hopeless tear that fell upon the roses, their color would drain, leaving some of the crimson blooms the purest white. It was not long after that the villagers discovered Lyneth's lifeless body upon her bed, her arms curled around her potted rose plant. They thought it strange that one plant could bloom two different colors of roses, but took it as a sign that Lyneth and Goran's love defied all natural law and while they were saddened to know Lyneth too was now lost to them, they also knew that she was finally at peace, able to rejoin her beloved Goran in a place they knew not of.

The citizens of Waterhaven wept quietly as they carried Lyneth and her rose bush to a quiet and peaceful place overlooking the plains and the ocean. It was there they lay Lyneth to rest with her rosebush, and unbeknownst to them, her beloved Goran as well. It is there that the two most beautiful rose bushes in Trinald grow, and when the night sky is at its darkest the roses are surrounded by innumerable twinkling lights, tiny reminders to all who see, that evil never goes unseen or unpunished.

[Written and presented by Sorynn and Korba in the Dundee Inn]
Korba posted @ 04:53 - Link - comments (3)
Monday, 28 July 2008
*Below is a sketch of the RoK Dragon*

Copied from the flag that hangs in the Remnants of Kimald memorial garden
Korba posted @ 10:25 - Link - comments
Wednesday, 23 July 2008
A Cleric again

I rubbed my eyes, it was no good, staring at the parchment any longer was going to hurt them . I looked at the marc, it was a bit early but hopefully the company would be good at the Dundees Inn. Gathering my possessions from the library I headed to Dundee via the Milltown temple and entered inside.

The first thing to draw my eye was a good crowd including the recently titled fable-teller and Jezzara with her new ring, usually a good indication of a congenial gathering, secondly someone the Cleric had heard much of but had never actually seen, Shaerih the rogue.

It seemed she had been teasing those gathered so taking a seat I was careful to keep my pack close between my feet, she had something of reputation.. Smiling sweetly she approached and laid her hand as light as a feather on my arm. Unused to being touched I was still in shock before I realized the gathered crowd was staring at he second ring on Shaerihs finger. With a sense of dread I recognized my ring of levity.

Trying my best to remain calm I pointed out how much the rings blinding light would hinder a rogue notoriously fond of the shadows, although she agreed her alternative of selling it would be equally terrible. Trying my best to argue his case without seeming to do so I pointed out Haggie had never offered me so much as a silver piece for it. Shaerih replied perhaps it was because I didn’t have her long lashes, there was one option left, flattery that luckily didn’t backfire, I was rewarded with a smile and a peck on the check.. While I was still blushing Shaerih disappeared into the shadows and had somehow managed to return the ring to my finger.

Thinking that was the end of the evenings excitement normal conversation resumed, Azure gave a me a Brewsky to help me recover. The mood was jolly and the company good but I must have said something careless because I took a drink of ale and nearly fell of my chair. A sensation of pain and wrenching unlike anything I had ever known. People where staring at me and the sky in horror, there I was twisted and screaming.

Picking myself back up I looked around and realized something was very wrong, my old itch whenever someone was hurt was absent, I looked at the those gathered and couldn’t tell who was hurt… most disconcerting after my long years as a cleric. Shivering slightly I had no idea how or why this had happened, I had heard of those visiting the desert temple and changing professions but for it to happen in the Dundee Inn, it seemed I was now a rogue.

It was Jezzara who broke through the shock with a sensible idea, heading quickly next door to the temple I prayed with a desperation. If the gods willed it I would make the most of this change although my heart would remain a cleric. Azure and Jezzara joined me and I later heard Shannara, Ellyana Lilli and others where also praying with me.

Viscountess Miranda appeared, it seemed she had changed me into a rogue after something I said. I would never argue with a goddess, I awaited her judgment as calm as I could manage. Although she was obviously irritated with my trivial mortal concerns she graciously agreed to return me to a cleric so I could continue to serve the gods.

Returning to the HoL after she departed I realized I should see this wondrous place with the freshness of those just returned from the temple. I will remain here and pray for forgiveness for the confusion that led to the change and thanks that after a shower of red sparks I’m a cleric again.
Korba posted @ 03:48 - Link - comments
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