Steve Gorak
Hero
Thanks! I see benny becoming a prophet of Pelor, and want to give him that flavor.
Here's a cool 10 minute speech/prayer he's going to say during short rests (thanks chat GTP!):
Warriors of the Light… Children of the Dawn… Champions gathered beneath the burning heavens…
Hear me now.
For we stand not in the quiet shade of ordinary days, but upon the threshold of destiny. And at such a time, we turn our voices, our hope, and our very spirits toward Pelor, the Unconquered Sun—
He whose radiance burns brighter than fear,
He whose will is the heartbeat of creation,
He whose light alone has never known defeat.
there was darkness, vast and unbroken.
But then, in a moment that split eternity itself, Pelor arose.
Not as a gentle glow.
Not as a timid spark.
But as a roaring sun, blazing so fiercely that creation awoke startled and gasping, forever changed.
The darkness recoiled.
The world was shaped in brilliance.
Life surged forth as if answering a long-awaited summons.
From that first dawn until this very moment, Pelor has stood as the eternal foe of shadow—unyielding, unwavering, unafraid.
Not trinkets. Not comforts. Not fragile blessings that fade with the turning of seasons.
He has given us:
They are weapons against the creeping night.
Pelor is mercy, but He is not fragile.
Pelor is grace, but He is not passive.
When tyrants raise their banners, they feel His glare upon their backs.
When undead mock the sanctity of life, His radiance scours their defiance.
When demons claw at the veil of the mortal world, they shrink from His fury like vermin before a wildfire.
For Pelor’s wrath is not chaos. It is judgment.
A blazing spear thrown from the heavens.
A storm of purifying fire that does not merely defeat evil—
it annihilates it.
And His champions—you—are the hands that wield that fire.
Beneath His fearsome brilliance lies a heart vast as the sky.
Pelor is the guardian of the lost farmer whose crops wither.
He is the warmth in the hearth of the widow who lights a candle to hold back grief.
He is the first ray of sunlight that touches the cheek of the traveler who survived the night.
Every life—great or humble—belongs to His protection.
His mercy is not weakness.
It is the strength to heal even when the world is broken.
Not perfection. That is the dream of gods, not mortals.
He asks for defiance—defiance of despair, of cruelty, of the sinking dark.
He asks for endurance—to rise as He rises, day after relentless day.
He asks for valor—to carry His fire into places that have forgotten warmth.
He asks for hope—the most powerful weapon He ever placed in mortal hands.
These are His commandments:
You see the sun there—not as a distant star, but as a banner of battle, a clarion call, a promise carved in fire.
It rises for us.
It rises with us.
It rises through us.
When we march into shadow, the dawn marches at our side.
When we raise our blades, the sun steels our arms.
When fear whispers, the Radiant One speaks louder:
“Stand. Fight. Shine.”
And so we shall.
Raise your heads.
Steady your breath.
Let the fire in your chest answer the fire in the sky.
For you are not merely mortals.
You are the storm of dawn.
You are the swords of the sun.
You are the light that darkness fears.
Go forth knowing this one unbreakable truth:
Where you walk, Pelor walks.
Where you strike, Pelor strikes.
Where you shine, darkness dies.
Praise to Pelor, the Sun Unending.
Praise to Pelor, the Flame Unquenchable.
Praise to Pelor, whose dawn shall rise forever.
Hear me now.
For we stand not in the quiet shade of ordinary days, but upon the threshold of destiny. And at such a time, we turn our voices, our hope, and our very spirits toward Pelor, the Unconquered Sun—
He whose radiance burns brighter than fear,
He whose will is the heartbeat of creation,
He whose light alone has never known defeat.
The First Dawn
Before the forging of kingdoms, before the rise of mortal memory, before even the oldest dragon stirred from its cosmic cradle—there was darkness, vast and unbroken.
But then, in a moment that split eternity itself, Pelor arose.
Not as a gentle glow.
Not as a timid spark.
But as a roaring sun, blazing so fiercely that creation awoke startled and gasping, forever changed.
The darkness recoiled.
The world was shaped in brilliance.
Life surged forth as if answering a long-awaited summons.
From that first dawn until this very moment, Pelor has stood as the eternal foe of shadow—unyielding, unwavering, unafraid.
The Gifts of the Sun Lord
What has Pelor given us?Not trinkets. Not comforts. Not fragile blessings that fade with the turning of seasons.
He has given us:
- The fire of courage, to rouse our souls when despair tightens its grip.
- The blaze of truth, before which lies burn away like scraps of parchment.
- The warmth of life, the very spark that animates the hearts in our chests.
- The dawn itself, a daily proclamation that darkness has limits—and that light does not.
They are weapons against the creeping night.
Pelor’s Wrath
Make no mistake:Pelor is mercy, but He is not fragile.
Pelor is grace, but He is not passive.
When tyrants raise their banners, they feel His glare upon their backs.
When undead mock the sanctity of life, His radiance scours their defiance.
When demons claw at the veil of the mortal world, they shrink from His fury like vermin before a wildfire.
For Pelor’s wrath is not chaos. It is judgment.
A blazing spear thrown from the heavens.
A storm of purifying fire that does not merely defeat evil—
it annihilates it.
And His champions—you—are the hands that wield that fire.
Pelor’s Mercy
But hear this, too:Beneath His fearsome brilliance lies a heart vast as the sky.
Pelor is the guardian of the lost farmer whose crops wither.
He is the warmth in the hearth of the widow who lights a candle to hold back grief.
He is the first ray of sunlight that touches the cheek of the traveler who survived the night.
Every life—great or humble—belongs to His protection.
His mercy is not weakness.
It is the strength to heal even when the world is broken.
His Call to Us
So what does the Radiant One demand?Not perfection. That is the dream of gods, not mortals.
He asks for defiance—defiance of despair, of cruelty, of the sinking dark.
He asks for endurance—to rise as He rises, day after relentless day.
He asks for valor—to carry His fire into places that have forgotten warmth.
He asks for hope—the most powerful weapon He ever placed in mortal hands.
These are His commandments:
- Shine bravely.
- Stand fiercely.
- Burn brightly.
A Rallying Cry
Look to the horizon.You see the sun there—not as a distant star, but as a banner of battle, a clarion call, a promise carved in fire.
It rises for us.
It rises with us.
It rises through us.
When we march into shadow, the dawn marches at our side.
When we raise our blades, the sun steels our arms.
When fear whispers, the Radiant One speaks louder:
“Stand. Fight. Shine.”
And so we shall.
Final Invocation
Now, children of the Light—Raise your heads.
Steady your breath.
Let the fire in your chest answer the fire in the sky.
For you are not merely mortals.
You are the storm of dawn.
You are the swords of the sun.
You are the light that darkness fears.
Go forth knowing this one unbreakable truth:
Where you walk, Pelor walks.
Where you strike, Pelor strikes.
Where you shine, darkness dies.
Praise to Pelor, the Sun Unending.
Praise to Pelor, the Flame Unquenchable.
Praise to Pelor, whose dawn shall rise forever.
I'm inspired! I'm going to enjoy my 8thp before I go to bed! Cheers!
SG
and he cannot but feel inspired by the youth remembering all days working under the sun, wind in his beard and creaking of wood under him
