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(IC) Fitz's Folly
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<blockquote data-quote="Fradak" data-source="post: 7221635" data-attributes="member: 6805410"><p>All this effervescence, this agitation, this... life, warmed Chrysagon's heart. He smiled as some kids playing pirates and buccaneers bumped into him, checking his purse as they ran away. Glancing up, he faced the triceratops. Those creatures are marvelous, Chrysagon wandered whish god could have created them. Then his dark thought came back and the smile fade out. All those people were carefree, going about their daily choirs. But the balance is disrupted. The Death Curse is upon us, waiting for the dying to approach her reach. Death is not a disorder and can not become one. He must not fail and has to restore the balance. But why Kelemvor doesn't give him the power to destroy this Curse?</p><p></p><p>Closing his eyes, Chrysagon whispered some words to not let this useless questioning clouds his mind. </p><p><strong>"Where I walk, I walk in your light. With your compassion, I heal. With your Wisdom, I learn."</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>"Father?"</strong></p><p>Chrysagon opened his eyes, getting out of his meditation. An man holding a dead child was standing in his path, the traces of recent tears was still present on his face. </p><p><strong>"My son... help him... please."</strong> stammered the man.</p><p></p><p>But it was too late. Chrysagon felt his doubts coming back and with it, a latent rage in front of this injustice. </p><p>Reaching deep down to get back his equanimity, he replied <strong>"Walk with me, my son. I can't help him, but I can help you."</strong></p><p></p><p>Chrysagon took a walk with the bereaved man, following with a distance the steps of his companions across the souk. The boy died in one night from a common fever, common for Chult at least. The local priest did his utmost but without any result. The sight of Chrysagon rekindled the flamme of hope, feeble as it was. If the priest of the living are powerless maybe a paladin of Death will do something. The god of Death had to do something!</p><p></p><p>Chrysagon's words touched deeply the man and comforted him. When he left the paladin, he was in peace. Death is a necessary part of the cycle of life, not something grisly and abhorrent in itself. Chrysagon could not bring back the kid but he saved the father from despair and hopelessness. That's all he could do for now, absorbe the despair of others and bury it inside of him. Catching up, the sight of his companions cheered him up and he thought "But soon, we will find the source of the Curse and bring back the balance in the Realms."</p><p></p><p>Responding to Miss Imogen proposition, <strong>"I like the idea. The only possible draw back is that they could be some members of the local thief guild. At least we will help some in need"</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fradak, post: 7221635, member: 6805410"] All this effervescence, this agitation, this... life, warmed Chrysagon's heart. He smiled as some kids playing pirates and buccaneers bumped into him, checking his purse as they ran away. Glancing up, he faced the triceratops. Those creatures are marvelous, Chrysagon wandered whish god could have created them. Then his dark thought came back and the smile fade out. All those people were carefree, going about their daily choirs. But the balance is disrupted. The Death Curse is upon us, waiting for the dying to approach her reach. Death is not a disorder and can not become one. He must not fail and has to restore the balance. But why Kelemvor doesn't give him the power to destroy this Curse? Closing his eyes, Chrysagon whispered some words to not let this useless questioning clouds his mind. [B]"Where I walk, I walk in your light. With your compassion, I heal. With your Wisdom, I learn."[/B] [B]"Father?"[/B] Chrysagon opened his eyes, getting out of his meditation. An man holding a dead child was standing in his path, the traces of recent tears was still present on his face. [B]"My son... help him... please."[/B] stammered the man. But it was too late. Chrysagon felt his doubts coming back and with it, a latent rage in front of this injustice. Reaching deep down to get back his equanimity, he replied [B]"Walk with me, my son. I can't help him, but I can help you."[/B] Chrysagon took a walk with the bereaved man, following with a distance the steps of his companions across the souk. The boy died in one night from a common fever, common for Chult at least. The local priest did his utmost but without any result. The sight of Chrysagon rekindled the flamme of hope, feeble as it was. If the priest of the living are powerless maybe a paladin of Death will do something. The god of Death had to do something! Chrysagon's words touched deeply the man and comforted him. When he left the paladin, he was in peace. Death is a necessary part of the cycle of life, not something grisly and abhorrent in itself. Chrysagon could not bring back the kid but he saved the father from despair and hopelessness. That's all he could do for now, absorbe the despair of others and bury it inside of him. Catching up, the sight of his companions cheered him up and he thought "But soon, we will find the source of the Curse and bring back the balance in the Realms." Responding to Miss Imogen proposition, [B]"I like the idea. The only possible draw back is that they could be some members of the local thief guild. At least we will help some in need"[/B] [/QUOTE]
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