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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Black Bard" data-source="post: 975255" data-attributes="member: 2536">New postHere we go....with some delay....<img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f644.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":rolleyes:" title="Roll eyes    :rolleyes:"  data-smilie="11"data-shortname=":rolleyes:" /> ***************It was already night when Ellon finally opened his eyes. Rain was falling outside the building, as if the Gods were trying to wash the land of the malison that blighted it now. As Ellon eyed the ceiling’s intricate patterns, a stern looking bearded man leaned over him, shooting a inquisitive gaze, as if he were trying to scan his very soul.At this moment Ellon recognized the old man as the leader of the Pelorian Inquisition, and that fact alone brought painful recent memories to his mind, and  tears descended his face like the rain outside. He remembered the fateful moment that he entered the House of MorningGlory and fell across a grotesque scene.  Laughter, as well as the smell of brimstone and burnt flesh, filled the room. Standing there was Sister Mirine, smoke rising from her hands, as well as from the dozen corpses that once were the temple’s clerics. Her icy eyes turned to meet him, but Mirine showed no other reaction. By her side, the laughing figure stood. It was tall, yet spotting a distinct hunching back, and had his body all clad in a cloak black as the night. Even more distinct than his hump was the sinister gaze that he shot at Ellon, and with a slow gesture of his hand, a sickly green ray erupted from his pointed finger. The eldritch ray stroke Ellon in his chest, instantly draining his strength, making even his leather coat a overwhelming burden, and unable to stand his feet, he fell limply to the ground. The dark figure simply walked through the lying form of Ellon, and with a simple gesture ordered Mirine to follow him. As she walked Ellon didn’t strayed his eyes from her, trying to catch a glimpse of the good hearted that so much captivated him earlier that day. But all he saw was the stony, fixed stare present in her beautiful face, oblivious to all the pain and suffering present in the room. Finally, as the result of smoke inhaling or  an effect of the dread spell, Ellon’s eyes began to feel heavy,  and when he simply could not hold on any longer Mirine looked down at him, her cold eyes now offering a pledging gaze, silently shouting for help. And then, he fainted.***********Squire Merres quickly halted his work as he saw Father Hearn descending the stairs. Being the clerics’ remains already gathered and blessed in preparation for the morning funeral ceremony, Merres and the Bringer of Dawn’s crew were trying to clean up the soot , ash and blood staining the sacred temple floor. It was really a miracle that the boy had survived the fire, a fact imparted to Pelor’s will by Father Hearn.Hearn approached Merres, and before adressing the young man, scanned the room in order to see if the work was being well done. After nodding to himself, Hearn spoke in a low voice. “The boy could do much beside mumbling, Squire Merres, but I’m pretty sure that the devilish Koreas was here. I could sense it by the sheer terror present in the boy’s eyes.”With that, Hearn motioned his head towards the temple entrance, and Merres followed him this way. As the Holy Father watched the rain, the young lad noted his concentrated look, fixed on a distant point. Suddenly, Hearn emerged from his momentary trance, adressing the squire. “Sir Kenton is still pretty weak, and besides that, never had the the steely will nedded to hunt warlocks.”With his gaze still locked he proceeded. “Only Sir Erion has any experience in dealing with those magus, Merres. You must find Sir Erion and communicate him of his mission, and all the information we gathered so far. Is he still onboard?”“No, he is...” Merres paused for a while, obviously embarassed. “He’s probably interacting with the ladies in town...”“ Interacting?” Hearn looked at Merres, a discontent expression in his face. “Oh, mighty Pelor, I don’t know why you keep this unfortunate soul as a Holy Paladin of Dawn... But what I could know then, Merres?” he inquired. ”I’m still just a humble servant of the Sun Lord...”****************The Goat’s Rest wasn’t spotting much movement this night, of course that was a direct consequence of the fiery tragedy that befallen the town. But still, some poor souls whose felt that their lives were even worse than this puny event had gathered in the tavern, seeking forgetfulness, a comforting sensation brought by the numbing of conscience. Tonight, as any other night, the harbinger of relief would be alcohol for some, yet some sought it in the artificial company of the ladies of the evening.Among those brightless souls was someone of note. A foreigner that only recently arrived, that despite some age, beared a imposing figure, a presence that instilled awe in the hearts of any who looked at him. This glorious man was Sir Erion, a Holy Paladin of Dawn, a warrior well-known for his battle prowess and courage, as well as for the righteous conduct he always carried on in his victories. The great majority of his success derived from the relentless hunt that was his life, more especifically, a Witch-Hunt.But Erion’s confidence was shattered by some events of late. Even being these happenings five years old, the memories always surface fresh and lively as if it had just occurred. The screams, the tears, the blood in the Fields of Azanir haunted every moment of his life, but, it was the dire consequence of his actions that burned his heart. At that night, in the Fields of Azanir, he fell of grace with Pelor, his warming presence gone from his being, leaving only a deep void in place. Guilty.Yet, he could not tell anyone of his fault, not because of his pride, because he never gave it much worth, but because of the feelings of someone that meant everything to him. His little son, Beorn, was a delicate child, born with a defective leg that made walking a almost impossible task. Erion and his wife, Ariela, had always tried to pass only good things to the child, raising an ambient where Beorn could grow in his parent’s love, becoming a happy person despite his deficiency. Nothing could make the boy more happier than hear his father’s exploits, and with time he became extremely proud of his father, the Paladin, and his deeds. Erion simply couldn’t disappoint his son, and never told anyone of his dreadful state, nor had the courage to return home and face his son, accepting mission after mission from the church, hoping one day to regain his lost status. So far, Erion’s will only deteriorated, and he passed all his time feasting with women and drinking, trying to forget the pain and the sadness. Inebriated by alcohol, excited by the women, Erion experienced the wildest dreams. Dreams where he always ended full of glory, finally reddeming. But, inexorably, morning comes, destroying his illusions, shattering his dreams, as Pelor reminds him of his faults.Erion was already drooping over a tankard of ale when Squire Merres entered the tavern. The two young girls that were in his company displayed great smiles, as they won a purse of gold only for accompanying a distinct knight in a descent on a intoxicated sleep. The two beautiful sirens sprang quickly from the bench, laughing as Merres approached their table. The squire requested Cohr’s assistance, and together they managed to carry the paladin up to a room. And there, this time with a splash of cold water, Erion was abruptly taken off from dreams of glorious deeds, only to land in the desert of hope that is reality.</blockquote>

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