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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Gli'jar" data-source="post: 3468889" data-attributes="member: 36562">“War ain’t ment to be pretty, but it is a purifying force.”  The large man said as his cigar shifted from one cheek to the other as he gazed over the carnage and began walking towards the epicenter. Although he speaks to no one in particular, he continues on as if addressing an audience, “Like scorched fields.” He pauses to lay his hands briefly on an injured young man, addressing both the injured man and his companion “You’ll survive, and you both will be the stronger for it. Purified by fire, you got a purpose now. Stand strong.” He gets up, throws them a few coins and continues on as the youths look on in fascination, “War is like that” he takes his cigar out of his mouth, looks at the burning ember and back at the youths and smiles before turning around and continuing down the street. His voice rises. “It removes the wheat from the chaff so that we got left something stronger. That which doesn’t kill you only serves to make you stronger. It reminds you to breathe, reminds you of life and that you got a purpose.” He walks by a heavily injured old man, briefly he looks at the body and the grasping hands looking for some sort of respite from the pain. He moves down to the man and whispers something in his ear. The old man has a resolute look on his face but nods an affirmative. Quickly, two hands grasp the side of the old mans head and quickly twist. A popping sound is heard over the quiet whispers from teh priest. Before getting up he closes the mans eyes and makes a symbol on his forehead. “That which it does not purify, falls by the wayside serves to fertilize for the future crops. Remember no mans dies before his time has come, make a purpose of your life, even in death, purify yourself by the flame and stand up.”The big man pauses and looks down at the holy symbol that hangs around his neck. Before continuing, he picks it up from his chest, presses it to his head, gazes towards the heavens and drops it before continuing down the burning street, “You go ask them what they want, sure they will cry, sure they will wail but when that is done they will tell you they want.” He stops a woman fleeing with child. He briefly looks at the child and the woman before laying his hand upon her and healing her wounds. After her wounds are healed he lets her go and continues on as if nothing happened. “Revenge." He cries loudly before returning to his normal tone "They want a war that will take Ragesia down to avenge their loved ones. They will join the cause where once before they were meek, running like mice. This is not our war, leave us be they once cried.” As he moves towards a dog it releases a protruding limb and runs quickly away, narrowly avoiding the boot aimed at its rear. “Well look where it got’em, dead.  I hate to tell you, but this is your war and unless you poor sods stand up and defend yourself you are all going to be pushing up daisies." He stops and stands before a small group of individuals, a grin is worn on his face behind the burning cigar, His dark beard is singed around the edges, "Well what about you poor sods, you got a different look about you. They call me Nom Laki, if you know the name.  Where do you stand?"Nom Laki, CN Cleric of War, Domains: war, purification (if ok) or fire. Militant, rabble-rouser or if you need a devoted arcane caster my wu jen is still on the table. I can edit as necessary to make a meeting fit in.</blockquote>

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