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Siege Of Bordrin's Watch
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<blockquote data-quote="The Digger" data-source="post: 4787494" data-attributes="member: 73964"><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white">Tresa rose from her bleeding knees and clutched her warhammer, now returned to its normal size, close to her breast. Even with her eyes closed as she said a heartfelt prayer of thanks, she could still just make out the dwindling glow of Pelor’s light upon her weapon.</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white">So her God had answered, it was now time to prepare. She gathered up her few belongings and headed for the door. Once she had told Brother Aenir of her decision she could leave him to the few duties which remained to the local priesthood whilst she organised herself once more for battle.</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white">She would need armour. Her own she had long ago given away. And some stout boots! She looked down at her woven sandals and smiled, No, these would never do.</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white">She stood on the steps of the temple and breathed in the aromas of Nine Bells. The smell of filth and decay drifted past her nose. Also the whiff of burning wood and turf, overlain by the various incenses of the temples. The effect was almost overpowering and she almost missed it - the acrid taste on the back of the throat of verdant leaf!</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white">Her eyes darted around the dark of the alleyway and her keen eyes saw them - the halfling dealer and his bald customer.</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white"><span style="color: yellow">"In Pelor's name, beggone! Do not peddle your sickening wares in the shadow of Summer's grace!"</span> Tresa waved her hammer at the couple, and the halfling turned and ran up the alley. The priestess strode down to confront the customer but saw at once that he was not what he had seemed at first. He might have been one of the local farmers except that he bore a pendant of Moradin. A pendant of a size and quality that denoted perhaps a man of the cloth.</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: yellow">"It is a bad time for many here, good sir. A bad time for many."</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: white">She moved closer, puzzled by something about his appearance. He had the look of a cleric, but also of a fighter …and there was something else…</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: yellow">“I am Sister Tresa, until a few moments ago a priestess of Pelor here in Nine Bells. And now a just another of Pelor’s humble servants, ready to serve His Grace in these current difficulties. There will be fighting and death - I fear much of both - and I hope to be able to bring healing and succour to those striving to save their world from the oncoming darkness.”</span></span></span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="color: yellow">“You, Sir, have the look of a seeker about you. But a seeker after what, I wonder? Is there anything I can do to aid you before I take up the task appointed for me?”</span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="The Digger, post: 4787494, member: 73964"] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white]Tresa rose from her bleeding knees and clutched her warhammer, now returned to its normal size, close to her breast. Even with her eyes closed as she said a heartfelt prayer of thanks, she could still just make out the dwindling glow of Pelor’s light upon her weapon.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white]So her God had answered, it was now time to prepare. She gathered up her few belongings and headed for the door. Once she had told Brother Aenir of her decision she could leave him to the few duties which remained to the local priesthood whilst she organised herself once more for battle.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white]She would need armour. Her own she had long ago given away. And some stout boots! She looked down at her woven sandals and smiled, No, these would never do.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white]She stood on the steps of the temple and breathed in the aromas of Nine Bells. The smell of filth and decay drifted past her nose. Also the whiff of burning wood and turf, overlain by the various incenses of the temples. The effect was almost overpowering and she almost missed it - the acrid taste on the back of the throat of verdant leaf![/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white]Her eyes darted around the dark of the alleyway and her keen eyes saw them - the halfling dealer and his bald customer.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white][COLOR=yellow]"In Pelor's name, beggone! Do not peddle your sickening wares in the shadow of Summer's grace!"[/COLOR] Tresa waved her hammer at the couple, and the halfling turned and ran up the alley. The priestess strode down to confront the customer but saw at once that he was not what he had seemed at first. He might have been one of the local farmers except that he bore a pendant of Moradin. A pendant of a size and quality that denoted perhaps a man of the cloth.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=yellow] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=yellow]"It is a bad time for many here, good sir. A bad time for many."[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=white]She moved closer, puzzled by something about his appearance. He had the look of a cleric, but also of a fighter …and there was something else…[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][COLOR=yellow]“I am Sister Tresa, until a few moments ago a priestess of Pelor here in Nine Bells. And now a just another of Pelor’s humble servants, ready to serve His Grace in these current difficulties. There will be fighting and death - I fear much of both - and I hope to be able to bring healing and succour to those striving to save their world from the oncoming darkness.”[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [SIZE=3][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=white] [/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=yellow]“You, Sir, have the look of a seeker about you. But a seeker after what, I wonder? Is there anything I can do to aid you before I take up the task appointed for me?”[/COLOR][/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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