Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
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Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 145
Morningstar is swiftly granted an audience. She and Dranko are escorted through the darkened halls of the temple to the office of the High Priestess. Dranko is asked politely by a neophyte to wait outside; Rhiavonne wishes to speak with Morningstar in private. The half-orc gives his betrothed a reassuring squeeze on the arm, and in she goes.
High Priestess Rhiavonne, most holy of Ell in all Charagan, has her back to the door. She looks out a window onto the eternally-twilit rooftops of Kallor. Without turning, she says: “Ah, Morningstar, please come in. Come stand by me.”
Morningstar walks quietly to the window. Rhiavonne is small, old, and radiates a great power as she gazes upon her city.
“Morningstar, look outside, and tell me what you see.”
“I see the holy city, blessed by the Goddess,” Morningstar says.
“I see a philosophy,” says Rhiavonne. “I see a truth. I see a choice that the Goddess made, that the land on which her foot first fell should forever be in darkness.
“I have spent many years with my head in books, reading the wisdom of sisters who have gone before us. I have read accounts of people who think as you do; of women determined that our immersion in the night is a weakness. I have seen prophecies warning about the consequences of staying our current course. I have read the histories that Swan made sure I saw: that once Ell was a Goddess of dreams, and all her children Dreamwalkers. I have read them. I have pondered them.
“And for every one of those voices of dissent, I have read a dozen that confirm that our current philosophy is the right one. That our commitment to the night must be absolute and that to divide our efforts will lead to ruin. That our shift from the world of dreams to the world of reality was caused and confirmed by Ell herself, realizing that in dreams we could not affect the world as we can otherwise.
“And if there is one message that permeates Ell's teachings and those of her prophets throughout the ages, it is this: that she leaves it to her mortal children how to interpret her will. She does not dictate to us. Rather she presents a divine truth so expansive that none can see it whole. It is for us to make of it what we will.”
Morningstar takes a deep breath. “That is what I am doing, in the best way I know how. I am also charged with interpreting Ell’s will.”
“Yes. Yes you are.” Rhiavonne says. She sits behind her table, and motions toward a chair opposite. “Morningstar, sit down. If you’ll indulge an old woman, I wish to tell you a parable.
“‘Once there was an apothecary who lived in a small town. There were others of his profession there, but this one prepared only one potion. It was a cure for a rare but deadly disease that struck maybe only one person in a whole year. The cure itself was difficult to prepare, and the ingredients were rare and expensive, but he devoted 10 months out of every year to its brewing, and every year, if a child was stricken with the sickness, he would be ready with his potion, and he would administer the cure. His wife earned enough money for them both to live, by weaving cloth.
One day his wife said to him, ‘what you do is commendable, and you save a life in many years, but there is more that you can do. The other leeches and alchemists in town make a good living selling cures for the flux, and for the rash, and for expelling ticks and lice. You could do the same, but still have time to keep brewing your special cure, and we would be even better loved. Also, we are vulnerable. What if a year comes when no one has the sickness, and there is no demand for my cloth? We would starve!’
That following year the apothecary made his cure, but also mixed many other potions and powders to help the people of the town. People started to buy from them who once bought from others, and their business thrived. And while no one came down with the singular disease for which he usually prepared, they ate well that winter and had means to give to charity as well.
In the six years that followed, the apothecary spent more and more time branching his business, and less and less time gathering the ingredients and mixing his special cure. At first he still found the time to mix it, and managed to prepare a fresh dose each fall, but it became more and more difficult to spend time on it when there was so much else to do. And after six years had passed, during which time no one contracted the deadly illness, he decided that for one year at least he might forego his usual specialty, and spend more time helping the people of the town in more practical and numerous ways.
In the seventh year the apothecary's own granddaughter fell ill, and died within a day, for no cure was ready.’”
Rhiavonne sits up straighter and looks directly into Morningstar’s eyes, a sad but stern expression on her wrinkled face.
“I listen to Amber, and to Swan, and to you, and I hear the first whispers of the wife. We would not set out to abandon our mission. But in ten years, or a hundred... It is my place to speak to the future, and hearing you, I know more than ever what I must say.
“Ell leaves it to each of us to further the church's ends in the ways that seem most right. I will not seek to do harm upon Amber and her followers, nor claim any reparations from her. But I must issue this edict: that the Illuminated Sisterhood is a heretical organization, and has no place within the Church of Ell. Its followers must either renounce in total their adherence to its tenets, or consider themselves Excommunicated from the Church, divided entirely from its holdings, its temples and services, and its support. They shall not pray or perform Miracles within Ellish temples, nor make claims to have done so. And I will start with you, Morningstar, though I think I already know your answer. But here is the choice: will you renounce the Illuminated Sisterhood and rejoin the Mother Church, or will you face Excommunication?”
…to be continued…
Morningstar is swiftly granted an audience. She and Dranko are escorted through the darkened halls of the temple to the office of the High Priestess. Dranko is asked politely by a neophyte to wait outside; Rhiavonne wishes to speak with Morningstar in private. The half-orc gives his betrothed a reassuring squeeze on the arm, and in she goes.
High Priestess Rhiavonne, most holy of Ell in all Charagan, has her back to the door. She looks out a window onto the eternally-twilit rooftops of Kallor. Without turning, she says: “Ah, Morningstar, please come in. Come stand by me.”
Morningstar walks quietly to the window. Rhiavonne is small, old, and radiates a great power as she gazes upon her city.
“Morningstar, look outside, and tell me what you see.”
“I see the holy city, blessed by the Goddess,” Morningstar says.
“I see a philosophy,” says Rhiavonne. “I see a truth. I see a choice that the Goddess made, that the land on which her foot first fell should forever be in darkness.
“I have spent many years with my head in books, reading the wisdom of sisters who have gone before us. I have read accounts of people who think as you do; of women determined that our immersion in the night is a weakness. I have seen prophecies warning about the consequences of staying our current course. I have read the histories that Swan made sure I saw: that once Ell was a Goddess of dreams, and all her children Dreamwalkers. I have read them. I have pondered them.
“And for every one of those voices of dissent, I have read a dozen that confirm that our current philosophy is the right one. That our commitment to the night must be absolute and that to divide our efforts will lead to ruin. That our shift from the world of dreams to the world of reality was caused and confirmed by Ell herself, realizing that in dreams we could not affect the world as we can otherwise.
“And if there is one message that permeates Ell's teachings and those of her prophets throughout the ages, it is this: that she leaves it to her mortal children how to interpret her will. She does not dictate to us. Rather she presents a divine truth so expansive that none can see it whole. It is for us to make of it what we will.”
Morningstar takes a deep breath. “That is what I am doing, in the best way I know how. I am also charged with interpreting Ell’s will.”
“Yes. Yes you are.” Rhiavonne says. She sits behind her table, and motions toward a chair opposite. “Morningstar, sit down. If you’ll indulge an old woman, I wish to tell you a parable.
“‘Once there was an apothecary who lived in a small town. There were others of his profession there, but this one prepared only one potion. It was a cure for a rare but deadly disease that struck maybe only one person in a whole year. The cure itself was difficult to prepare, and the ingredients were rare and expensive, but he devoted 10 months out of every year to its brewing, and every year, if a child was stricken with the sickness, he would be ready with his potion, and he would administer the cure. His wife earned enough money for them both to live, by weaving cloth.
One day his wife said to him, ‘what you do is commendable, and you save a life in many years, but there is more that you can do. The other leeches and alchemists in town make a good living selling cures for the flux, and for the rash, and for expelling ticks and lice. You could do the same, but still have time to keep brewing your special cure, and we would be even better loved. Also, we are vulnerable. What if a year comes when no one has the sickness, and there is no demand for my cloth? We would starve!’
That following year the apothecary made his cure, but also mixed many other potions and powders to help the people of the town. People started to buy from them who once bought from others, and their business thrived. And while no one came down with the singular disease for which he usually prepared, they ate well that winter and had means to give to charity as well.
In the six years that followed, the apothecary spent more and more time branching his business, and less and less time gathering the ingredients and mixing his special cure. At first he still found the time to mix it, and managed to prepare a fresh dose each fall, but it became more and more difficult to spend time on it when there was so much else to do. And after six years had passed, during which time no one contracted the deadly illness, he decided that for one year at least he might forego his usual specialty, and spend more time helping the people of the town in more practical and numerous ways.
In the seventh year the apothecary's own granddaughter fell ill, and died within a day, for no cure was ready.’”
Rhiavonne sits up straighter and looks directly into Morningstar’s eyes, a sad but stern expression on her wrinkled face.
“I listen to Amber, and to Swan, and to you, and I hear the first whispers of the wife. We would not set out to abandon our mission. But in ten years, or a hundred... It is my place to speak to the future, and hearing you, I know more than ever what I must say.
“Ell leaves it to each of us to further the church's ends in the ways that seem most right. I will not seek to do harm upon Amber and her followers, nor claim any reparations from her. But I must issue this edict: that the Illuminated Sisterhood is a heretical organization, and has no place within the Church of Ell. Its followers must either renounce in total their adherence to its tenets, or consider themselves Excommunicated from the Church, divided entirely from its holdings, its temples and services, and its support. They shall not pray or perform Miracles within Ellish temples, nor make claims to have done so. And I will start with you, Morningstar, though I think I already know your answer. But here is the choice: will you renounce the Illuminated Sisterhood and rejoin the Mother Church, or will you face Excommunication?”
…to be continued…
Carnifex
First Post
This strikes me as oddly echoing the Malachite and Emerald Chapel/Church of Aeos rift in Piratecat's campaign... very interesting development. Surely by her own words though, Rhiavonne is contradicting her own actions?
“And if there is one message that permeates Ell's teachings and those of her prophets throughout the ages, it is this: that she leaves it to her mortal children how to interpret her will. She does not dictate to us. Rather she presents a divine truth so expansive that none can see it whole. It is for us to make of it what we will.”
Basically says its up to the followers to interpret Ell's will - idnicating an individual's choice.
Then she herself acts as a dictator, declaring the Sisterhood heretical because they disagree with *her*, where Ell has made it clear, apparently, that it is an expansive faith that can cover many different facets.
Sounds like the church needs a little bit of reorganising
Great stuff as always!
“And if there is one message that permeates Ell's teachings and those of her prophets throughout the ages, it is this: that she leaves it to her mortal children how to interpret her will. She does not dictate to us. Rather she presents a divine truth so expansive that none can see it whole. It is for us to make of it what we will.”
Basically says its up to the followers to interpret Ell's will - idnicating an individual's choice.
Then she herself acts as a dictator, declaring the Sisterhood heretical because they disagree with *her*, where Ell has made it clear, apparently, that it is an expansive faith that can cover many different facets.
Sounds like the church needs a little bit of reorganising
Great stuff as always!
Blackjack
First Post
Carnifex said:
Ah, see, I disagree there's a contradiction here. Ell left it to her mortal children to interpret Her will; she didn't say which children. She didn't say "each and every child", nor did she say "my church". Rhiavonne undoubtedly sees herself in the right, since to her, clearly it is the Church that should be determining the interpretation. One expects that Morningstar will disagree, believing her personal interpretation to outweigh the Church's.
This is a running tension in any group (religious, political, or otherwise) that has a starting tenet and then successive interpretation... is interpretation up to the individual, or the organization, or both?
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Blackjack said:
I think Blackjack has the right of it. To paraphrase Rhiavonne: "Ell didn't write down specific rules for what to do in situations like this one. Instead, I get ponder the mysteries and then decide for myself what to do. And since I'm the High Priestess, what I decide becomes official church policy. You also made a decision, which is fine as far as it goes, but if we both choose different interpretations, mine's the one we go with."
Of course, things aren't as grim as they seem, as you'll see when I post the next installment in just a few minutes.
-Sagiro
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 146
Morningstar sits silently for a few long minutes, and Rhiavonne says nothing, full well understanding the weight of the choice. For Morningstar it is the moment she has dreaded would come, but it's chilling nonetheless to hear the words out loud. Still, she has prepared for this moment.
“High Priestess, I think there is another choice, and there are some… other matters you should consider. First, know that I have come to my unusual position by the direct will and intervention of the Goddess herself. I did not wish to be the “Child of Light.” That was chosen for me, and an avatar of the Goddess has trained me.”
“This is not news to me, child,” Rhiavonne says. “You were given a great gift, clearly. But it has been your own choice how best to use that gift.”
“But I was not the only one to whom it was given.”
Rhiavonne sits up a bit straighter and leans forward. Morningstar continues.
“There is another priestess like me, called by Ell to train in the light, for an upcoming moment of great need. Just as I have. The signs from Ell were as clear to her as they are to me – and she is from Kivia, the land across the Uncrossable Sea. Does that not tell you how serious this is? This Dreamwalker – Evenstar – was directed in no uncertain terms by a direct representative of the Goddess to prepare a force of dream-warriors. A messenger, under no guidance save what the Goddess put into his head, sought her out and warned her that the moment of crisis was approaching. We are required to be ready. The Illuminated Sisterhood makes that possible.”
Rhiavonne’s face is unreadable, but she senses that Morningstar isn’t finished, and stays quiet. Then Morningstar plays her trump card.
“Holy Mother, it is clear to me, and should be clear to you, that Ell is preparing my fellow sisters and me for an important, specific task. You know all about the Black Circle plot we just foiled. The Kingdom is in true, dire peril, and Ell is making sure we are trained to face it. But when that job is done, we will have fulfilled our purpose. I don’t foresee a need for the church to stay divided once the threat – whatever it is – has been dealt with. And that moment comes soon.”
Rhiavonne’s eyes widen and she leans forward further, elbows on the table.
“So, you would be willing to abandon the Illuminated Sisterhood once your… mission… is complete?
Morningstar nods. They both sit silent for a moment while the High Priestess cogitates, and then Rhiavonne speaks again
“Perhaps there will be no need for any excommunications after all. Morningstar, I want you to promise me, in Ell’s holy shadow, that you will renounce the Illuminated Sisterhood after the Kingdom is saved from its current danger. Furthermore, you will make sure that Amber dissolves the order completely. In return, there will be no further restrictions imposed on the members of the Illuminated Sisters, and they will be welcome fully back into the church proper upon its dissolution. Do you promise this?”
With a great sigh of relief, Morningstar nods her head in agreement. “I promise,” she says.
Rhiavonne’s expression softens.
“I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement. I have great respect for you, daughter, and have never doubted that you seek to do what is right for our church. And Ell obviously has great plans for you. We are already in your debt for your service in this very city. I hope that when all of this is over, we can talk more regularly, without the tension of politics.”
Morningstar nods politely.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time I was getting to bed. An old woman needs her sleep, and the sun is already well over the horizon. Good night, Morningstar. And thank you.”
En route to the Moonspell, Califax suddenly asks to be taken to Soulmender Tomnic in Hae Charagan immediately. His words are desperate, but his voice carries no inflection. Ernie tells him that first thing the next morning, Morningstar can cast a wind walk that will get him there as quickly as possible. Califax thanks him and hangs his head as they walk – he says nothing, but his meaning is clear: today would be better. But Aravis, the only member of the Company with the teleport spell, has never been to Hae Charagan and does not want to risk an accident.
At the Moonspell, the innkeeper greets them grandly, wealthy customers that they are. But he is not ready for their outlandish request.
“Sir?” Ernie asks. “How much would it cost for the use of your commons, exclusively, for the rest of the day and through tomorrow morning? For just us, I mean?”
The innkeeper does some quick accounting in his head, figuring the meals that won’t be served, and other customers who might be discouraged from taking rooms that night. Then he adds on a bit extra, smiles, and says “Master halfling, two hundred gold coins should cover the costs, including our best meals for all of you this evening, and as much ale as you wish to consume.”
Ernie doesn’t even blink. “Ok,” he says cheerily, and hands over the cash. The Company celebrates in grand style, relaxing in stuffed couches, eating marvelous food and retelling tales from their victory over the Black Circle. Morningstar and Dranko arrive an hour or so later, and the celebration now encompasses Morningstar’s agreement with Rhiavonne. Any misgivings they have over the price are soon washed away by as much ale as they can consume.
Later that evening, Captain Cobb makes an appearance; a servant starts to explain that the commons is closed to the general public for the evening, but Dranko spies him and waves him over. Before Cobb can start explaining his business, Dranko gets a drink in his hand, sits him down in a stuffed armchair, and calls for a slab of seasoned mutton to be brought over. The typically dour Cobb turns nothing down.
Eventually the good Captain gets around to his business. He gathers the Company around him to make his announcement.
“Friends, I’ve spent the day talking with various city officials, nobles and church dignitaries. They all agree that the service you have rendered to Kallor and Charagan in the past few days is difficult to measure. It’s been difficult to convince some of the them the extent of the danger, but I think by and large they all understand that you saved their bacon from a very hot fire.
“As such, a reward is clearly in order. We talked some about what would be appropriate, and what we can spare in a time when the Kingdom is at war. Now, as you know, there are some prime estates in the Silent Quarter whose owners and occupants have recently come to an untimely end. And that patch of real estate has some – er – unusual features that we don’t want anyone rushing into. There’s a lot of messy paperwork that I’d really rather avoid. The simplest expedient would be for me to arrange for those estates – formerly of the families Cosnor, Canterrin and Southinghorn -- to be signed over to you. All we’d ask is that you agree not to sell those estates or their furnishings for a period of three years, and that you be responsible for upkeep and taxes in the meantime. Oh, and that you observe the strictures of general quiet that are observed in the Silent Quarter.”
The Company happily accepts. Then, to Cobb’s delight, Dranko says, “Captain, we’re thrilled to take ownership of those estates, but we’re awfully busy, and won’t be able to be here very often in the near future. Not to mention that most of us would rather be somewhere that the sun is shining. It would be a big favor to us if you could think of someone…” (and here he gives Cobb a meaningful look) “…who might occupy one of the Estates and keep an eye on our properties while we’re gone. Of course, his family could move in too. There’s plenty of space. And we’d leave behind enough coin to cover the expenses for the next few months. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like I have some good news for the wife and kids,” Cobb grins.
In the City of Eternal Twilight, light and laughter spill from the Moonspell far into the small hours of the morning.
…to be continued…
Morningstar sits silently for a few long minutes, and Rhiavonne says nothing, full well understanding the weight of the choice. For Morningstar it is the moment she has dreaded would come, but it's chilling nonetheless to hear the words out loud. Still, she has prepared for this moment.
“High Priestess, I think there is another choice, and there are some… other matters you should consider. First, know that I have come to my unusual position by the direct will and intervention of the Goddess herself. I did not wish to be the “Child of Light.” That was chosen for me, and an avatar of the Goddess has trained me.”
“This is not news to me, child,” Rhiavonne says. “You were given a great gift, clearly. But it has been your own choice how best to use that gift.”
“But I was not the only one to whom it was given.”
Rhiavonne sits up a bit straighter and leans forward. Morningstar continues.
“There is another priestess like me, called by Ell to train in the light, for an upcoming moment of great need. Just as I have. The signs from Ell were as clear to her as they are to me – and she is from Kivia, the land across the Uncrossable Sea. Does that not tell you how serious this is? This Dreamwalker – Evenstar – was directed in no uncertain terms by a direct representative of the Goddess to prepare a force of dream-warriors. A messenger, under no guidance save what the Goddess put into his head, sought her out and warned her that the moment of crisis was approaching. We are required to be ready. The Illuminated Sisterhood makes that possible.”
Rhiavonne’s face is unreadable, but she senses that Morningstar isn’t finished, and stays quiet. Then Morningstar plays her trump card.
“Holy Mother, it is clear to me, and should be clear to you, that Ell is preparing my fellow sisters and me for an important, specific task. You know all about the Black Circle plot we just foiled. The Kingdom is in true, dire peril, and Ell is making sure we are trained to face it. But when that job is done, we will have fulfilled our purpose. I don’t foresee a need for the church to stay divided once the threat – whatever it is – has been dealt with. And that moment comes soon.”
Rhiavonne’s eyes widen and she leans forward further, elbows on the table.
“So, you would be willing to abandon the Illuminated Sisterhood once your… mission… is complete?
Morningstar nods. They both sit silent for a moment while the High Priestess cogitates, and then Rhiavonne speaks again
“Perhaps there will be no need for any excommunications after all. Morningstar, I want you to promise me, in Ell’s holy shadow, that you will renounce the Illuminated Sisterhood after the Kingdom is saved from its current danger. Furthermore, you will make sure that Amber dissolves the order completely. In return, there will be no further restrictions imposed on the members of the Illuminated Sisters, and they will be welcome fully back into the church proper upon its dissolution. Do you promise this?”
With a great sigh of relief, Morningstar nods her head in agreement. “I promise,” she says.
Rhiavonne’s expression softens.
“I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement. I have great respect for you, daughter, and have never doubted that you seek to do what is right for our church. And Ell obviously has great plans for you. We are already in your debt for your service in this very city. I hope that when all of this is over, we can talk more regularly, without the tension of politics.”
Morningstar nods politely.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time I was getting to bed. An old woman needs her sleep, and the sun is already well over the horizon. Good night, Morningstar. And thank you.”
En route to the Moonspell, Califax suddenly asks to be taken to Soulmender Tomnic in Hae Charagan immediately. His words are desperate, but his voice carries no inflection. Ernie tells him that first thing the next morning, Morningstar can cast a wind walk that will get him there as quickly as possible. Califax thanks him and hangs his head as they walk – he says nothing, but his meaning is clear: today would be better. But Aravis, the only member of the Company with the teleport spell, has never been to Hae Charagan and does not want to risk an accident.
At the Moonspell, the innkeeper greets them grandly, wealthy customers that they are. But he is not ready for their outlandish request.
“Sir?” Ernie asks. “How much would it cost for the use of your commons, exclusively, for the rest of the day and through tomorrow morning? For just us, I mean?”
The innkeeper does some quick accounting in his head, figuring the meals that won’t be served, and other customers who might be discouraged from taking rooms that night. Then he adds on a bit extra, smiles, and says “Master halfling, two hundred gold coins should cover the costs, including our best meals for all of you this evening, and as much ale as you wish to consume.”
Ernie doesn’t even blink. “Ok,” he says cheerily, and hands over the cash. The Company celebrates in grand style, relaxing in stuffed couches, eating marvelous food and retelling tales from their victory over the Black Circle. Morningstar and Dranko arrive an hour or so later, and the celebration now encompasses Morningstar’s agreement with Rhiavonne. Any misgivings they have over the price are soon washed away by as much ale as they can consume.
Later that evening, Captain Cobb makes an appearance; a servant starts to explain that the commons is closed to the general public for the evening, but Dranko spies him and waves him over. Before Cobb can start explaining his business, Dranko gets a drink in his hand, sits him down in a stuffed armchair, and calls for a slab of seasoned mutton to be brought over. The typically dour Cobb turns nothing down.
Eventually the good Captain gets around to his business. He gathers the Company around him to make his announcement.
“Friends, I’ve spent the day talking with various city officials, nobles and church dignitaries. They all agree that the service you have rendered to Kallor and Charagan in the past few days is difficult to measure. It’s been difficult to convince some of the them the extent of the danger, but I think by and large they all understand that you saved their bacon from a very hot fire.
“As such, a reward is clearly in order. We talked some about what would be appropriate, and what we can spare in a time when the Kingdom is at war. Now, as you know, there are some prime estates in the Silent Quarter whose owners and occupants have recently come to an untimely end. And that patch of real estate has some – er – unusual features that we don’t want anyone rushing into. There’s a lot of messy paperwork that I’d really rather avoid. The simplest expedient would be for me to arrange for those estates – formerly of the families Cosnor, Canterrin and Southinghorn -- to be signed over to you. All we’d ask is that you agree not to sell those estates or their furnishings for a period of three years, and that you be responsible for upkeep and taxes in the meantime. Oh, and that you observe the strictures of general quiet that are observed in the Silent Quarter.”
The Company happily accepts. Then, to Cobb’s delight, Dranko says, “Captain, we’re thrilled to take ownership of those estates, but we’re awfully busy, and won’t be able to be here very often in the near future. Not to mention that most of us would rather be somewhere that the sun is shining. It would be a big favor to us if you could think of someone…” (and here he gives Cobb a meaningful look) “…who might occupy one of the Estates and keep an eye on our properties while we’re gone. Of course, his family could move in too. There’s plenty of space. And we’d leave behind enough coin to cover the expenses for the next few months. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like I have some good news for the wife and kids,” Cobb grins.
In the City of Eternal Twilight, light and laughter spill from the Moonspell far into the small hours of the morning.
…to be continued…
Last edited:
Tony Vargas
Legend
Sagiro said:
The part of Rhiavonne was played by Skip 'Da Sage' Williams...
(or, at least, he should be able to empathize with her)
Milo Windby
First Post
Sagiro said:
Sounds like the religious rift here was solved much easier than the Malachite's Emerald Chapel conflict in Piratecat's campaign. I've got to wonder if it will have more far-reaching effects though. Morningstar was quick to promise that the Illuminated Sisters will be dissolved upon the completion of their mission, whatever it will be. How capable will she be to affect that dissolution when the time comes though? Will the other sisters go willingly back into the church or be declared heretics? Will Ell herself withold Her divine blessings to indicate the need for the sisters is ended? Or would she allow two opposite-thinking factions to exist in her religion? Not to mention will Morningstar have to give up her dream warrior abilities and become a simple cleric of Ell again?
I think Sagiro has left this particular confict open for later crunchy roleplaying.
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