The Pilgrimage (Journey)

The Cleric stood at the Milltown gates, the vast expense of the endless desert was before him, swirling dust demons obscured the horizon to the North where the Cleric was heading. Beyond the battle scarred gates the only distinctive feature that could be seen was the looming western mountains, despite their use as a landmark the jagged peaks did not comfort the Cleric, he had no wish to return there.

The Cleric wandered through the desert along a path vague to his eyes and mind but familiar to his boots. Always with the sun on his back and the mountains to his left he walked his mind wondering always what the path ahead held. Desert scorpions and zombies that had more than once proved deadly to the Cleric remained hidden from the scorching sun, in fact for the entire day the Cleric so no sign of man nor beast. If the desert sunset was spectacular the moonrise was even more so, especially as the soft glow illuminated signs of an ancient pathway partially covered by a recent sand storm. The Cleric strode on enjoying the cooler air and confident of his directions for the first time since leaving Milltown. The ancient road was firm under the Clerics boots, at first it traveled parallel the mountains before curving gracefully deeper into the deserts centre. The Cleric soon saw the vast ruins of the ancient temple hidden amongst the dunes. Eager to be below ground before the merciless sun rose again he hunted for the stair way amongst the toppled blocks and stone work.

Holding his Holy Ring aloft to light the stairwell the Cleric descended into the gloom. The Cleric relished a long unfelt emotion fear and trepidation. So long hunting in familiar surroundings had softened the Clerics memory. Many times Rotting Horde feeders had slayed the Cleric here when he was a newly anointed acolyte fresh from the desert temple. The Cleric froze in the darkness, a dull shuffling of heavy footsteps was approaching. The Cleric drew Radient Slayer a silently as possible and crouched in the darkness with a hammering heart, it came as a complete shock as the first rays of holy light illuminated the monster it recoiled as though burnt and fled deeper into the tomb. The Cleric pursued but soon realized he was lost in the dark and winding corridors. The Cleric crept softly but no monster attacked, despite this the Cleric was not comfortable, the tomb was huge and despite many stairways leading up the Cleric knew he had to descend much deeper. His time in the tomb had allowed the Cleric to distinguish between varying degrees of gloom that had at first seemed a deep blanketing darkness. In this particular room all light seemed to be sucked into a hole in the centre of the room to be replaced by an eerie chill. Edging closer to the hole the Cleric tried to discern what waited below but the thick black was impenetrable. Keeping a firm hold on Radient Slayer, comforted by its weight the Cleric lowered himself into the hole. Groping in the darkness not remembered since zombie hunting in Dundee many many marcs ago. The Cleric called upon Cory focusing his god given powers, his holy ring warmed slightly and burned brightly emitting a blinding light. The extra light merely showed the Cleric to be in a small dirty hole, a very incongruous start to the path to Aldwythe's Landing. Descending deeper the Cleric had to squirm through the small passageway before emerging into a large cavern facing a smelly lake shrouded in fog. Advancing stealthily, the Cleric had never seen such a gloomy place in all his travels, the fog traced itself over the Clerics face chilling and adding to the sense of foreboding he felt. This place was anything but holy and the land felt almost unwilling to let the living pass. Two figures emerged from the fog, the sight of two rag wrapped bodies by the edge of such an eerie lake made the Cleric fearful in a way he had never experienced before. Taking deep breaths to calm himself the Cleric approached and struckup a grunted conversation. After a brief haggle passage for the Cleric aboard a ferry was arranged to cross the lake. The fog was so thick and the stench so powerful the Cleric huddled in the bottom of the barge listening to the swish of the oars. Landing on a pier the Cleric quickly departed to put as much distance from the lake as possible. The fog was so thick the ferryman was soon invisible somewhere behind him, stumbling along a rough path the Cleric carried on hoping not to meet whatever was making the strange grunting noises that put the hairs on the back of his neck up but could never quite be glimpsed.

A pair of ominous gates appeared through the mist before the Cleric, the design appeared so ravaged by evil the Cleric thought a near continuous battle must rage to defend this passage. Despite this no guards could be seen as the Cleric passed through unharmed entering Aldwythe's Landing and gazed up at the huge tower that appeared to be standing sentry over the city with an expression of awe. Exploring passed as though a dream, a happy smile descended onto the Clerics face, after much time he decided to leave, even the lonely hunt in the western mountains did not fill the Cleric with despair that it did before setting off his faith renewed.

Passing back through the ominous gate the Cleric in a happy dreamland the Cleric wandered carelessly. A heavy shoulder met his own spinning him around. Looking at the bulky bundle of rags before him the Cleric was concerned, he had read the history of the city, here was some poor adventure looking for sanctuary. Reaching for his healing potions the Cleric approached. Greetings there, how may I assist you I can lead you to the city..? The Clerics sense of smell was first to warn there was something amiss, the same stench that had hung over the swamp was barely concealed by the rags. It was the stench of death. Alarmed the Cleric pulled back and reached for his hilt, he was to slow, a heavy hand grabbed his sword arm and held it in a vice grip. A dull rusty dagger emerged from a fold in the rags and slashed at the Cleric.

The Cleric came to in the endless desert slumped against the life monument that had returned him to Valorn. Dirty and exhausted but renewed of faith. Hauling himself to his feet the Cleric headed to Milltown to rest his pilgrimage over.