The Pilgrimage (Preparation)

Sitting huddled back in the western mountains as close to his little camp fire as possible the Cleric was despondent and lost in thought. He was listening to two of his guild mates making the journey to Aldwythe's Landing. The cleric held his head between his hands, ran his fingers through his unkempt beard and racked his brain. The lonliness of his location and his seemingly endless futile hunt was leading the cleric on the path to despair. The revelation came as a blast causing the cleric to rise to his feet despite the cold, Aldwythe's Landing, the location of Corys Tower. The answer to his problem became obvious, a pilgrimage to Corys tower, a journey into the unknown to refresh his faith and give him new energy for his ongoing hunt.

The cleric kicked some dirt over the little fire extinguishing it easily, groped around for his pack and shouldered the burden surprisingly easily for its weight. As he headed off a Centaur warrior unwisely took the clerics preoccupation with his new quest as a sign of potential weakness and charged into battle, the clatter of hoofs alerted the cleric but he knew his attacker to be weak. The cleric drew his long blade and stood his ground eyes dark with grim determination. The centaur’s nerve failed and tried to dodge to one side but was to slow. A casual swing of radiant slayer cut the centaur down, the excellent broadsword delivered a terrible wound that gushed with blood despite the cold. Momentum carried the corpse a few feet scattering some gold coins obviously robbed no doubt from some poor traveler. The cleric barely mumbled a few words for that victim’s soul and did not even stop for the gold. His eyes were fixed beyond the mountains blocking his view east to the desert where he knew his path lay, he adjusted his pack and lengthened his stride.

The trip through the mountains passed quickly, stepping over he ravine bridge the cleric he was nearly to the Endless Desert, he paused long enough at the mountain pass entrance throwing his gaze over the desert heat haze, seeking the ruined remains where he knew the entrance to the tombs lay. As he descended to the desert road the cleric basked in the bright sun, the weeks of chill began to retreat from his bones, a smile returned to the clerics face, no more searching through unworthy enemies corpses for rare treasures, he had a task, a pilgrimage to begin.

He had barely taken two steps north before sense returned to the cleric, weeks in the mountains had left him dirty, unkempt, and certainly he was in no fit state to present himself before one of his gods. A sigh of disappointment escaped the cleric’s mouth, he hated delay but he knew he would have to return to Milltown and take care of his appearance and supplies before he could begin his journey.

The bustle of Milltown seemed almost magical to the Cleric but he knew he must not tarry, first a visit to Venteli ensured the cleric would not starve before completing his quest. Secondly a visit to the blacksmith, the cleric watched fascinated and savoring the heat from the forge as Grinwhold worked. Broken links in the amour from enemy blows had pressed through onto the cleric’s skin causing small sores. The quality of his Holy Partial Plate however had turned aside all blows without so much as a scratch. Grinwhold offered to take a look at the cleric’s blade. Radient Slayer, although covered in gore needed no work, the weapon smith Sylent One was indeed skilled and although the cleric appreciated the offer he had vowed that no unholy hand would ever defile such a weapon, they would not be parted with until it was passed to a fellow cleric the way his Holy Battle Hammer Thunder had passed to his brother.

The sores reminded the cleric of his final task, he must refresh himself before setting out, his disheveled appearance was not fitting for his Holy quest. He greeted Shamson quietly leaving him tending to an unknown adventured before ducking through a small doorway to the back of the shrine. Within the holy area he bowed, bathed in holy light and rejuvenated his body. Very soon it was a very different cleric that departed the Milltown temple from the one that had emerged from the western mountains cold and bowed. The cleric stood proud, he was tall and lean with fine brown hair and eyes that reflected the excitement growing within him for the pilgrimage he was about to begin.