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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 2526303" data-attributes="member: 22792">Chapter 2: Journey into Darkness continuedA couple weeks ago in Legend…Morrick clasped the withered hand of his dying friend, his lord.  Baron Dragos Tyne looked at his companion, his one true friend and released a meager sigh.  The exhalation spurred another violent coughing fit.  His body lurched uncomfortably, pain lancing his heart and lungs.  A glob of phlegm dripped down from the dying Baron’s lips.  Morrick leaned in to wipe the fluid away, wishing he could wipe away the death as well.“How is Gwenyth?”  The spry fires that once danced behind Dragos’ eyes had faded.  Momentarily, the flames were replaced by a serene happiness.“Gwenyth is fine, Lord.  She misses Hendrick terribly, but she is coping.”  Morrick clasped his friend’s hand tighter, trying to keep his God at bay.“Good.  Your son will do you well.  Whatever happens, remember him and be proud of his accomplishments.”“Of course.”“My time is coming Morrick of Cael.  Is your God waiting to apply the final embrace??”The serene contentedness penetrated the priest-warrior’s shell.  He felt a tear slide down his cheek.  “I have not heard from Cael in twenty years.  He does not speak to me anymore.  Myr is similarly absent.  We fear…”“Don’t,” the Baron commanded.  “Reality is formed by words, Morrick, so be careful with your word choice.  Your God is fine; I can almost see him now.“You are my best friend.  I leave my domain in your capable hands.  Our people will need a strong leader with military experience.  If you hold to your ideals, everything will play itself out properly.”“What of Laurien Aelyc?”“The Baron of Aedil knows my decision.  He supports it fully.  And he will support you completely.  If you secede, as you should, he will follow suit.  “No,” the old Baron sighed, “He you do not need to worry about.  It is the other Barons you should beware.  They are not above underhanded plots and plans.  They will strike at your power, only to increase their own.  So may some of my advisors.  Beware them as well.Dragos erupted in another coughing fit.  Blood joined the phlegm’s expulsion this time.  “I…am…sorry to leave you upon the precipice of war.”  The old man shifted slowly, sinking deeper into his pillows.“Lord, I could cast a spell, something, anything…” Morrick blurted.“No, friend, although I appreciate the gesture.  It is my time.  My legacy…is now yours.”  Dragos Tyne’s eyes closed permanently, a soft grin frozen to his lips.  Slowly, the heat of life drained from the physical shell.  The cold of death was its only replacement.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------“Morrick?  Morrick, what are you doing?!”  Gwenyth shouted, grasping for her husband’s arm.The Priest of Cael shrugged off the attack and strode into his private chambers.  Removing a key from around his neck, the cleric opened an old crate.  Respectfully, he removed the well-worn armor and sheathed greatsword from the wooden crate.  He set them upon his desk and turned toward his wife.“Gwen, I have been placed as the protector of this realm.  I will fulfill my task.”  Momentarily disregarding the armor and blade, he pulled out a sheath of parchment and scrawled a hasty missive.“Our fight passed long ago.  It is now in the hands of the next generation,” Gwenyth squinted trying to decipher the nearly illegible script.  “What are you writing?” she curiously asked.“A letter to the king,” Morrick answered and then clarified, “Our intent to secede.”“You’re going to damn all of the people of this nation?!”  Rage filled the Priestess of Light’s voice.“They’ve already been damned, love.  I’m freeing them.”  Morrick slid the completed letter into an envelope, sealing it quickly with the baron’s seal and then his own.  “Please send my man in, Gwen.”  Gwenyth stormed from the room, leaving Morrick to his thoughts.Mere minutes later, his assistant stalked into the office.  “Lord?” “I need this delivered to Nordus Post immediately.”  Morrick handed the missive over.  “First, ready my gear and horse.”“Are you going somewhere, Lord?”“I’m journey to Aedil.  I’m sure Baron Laurien Aelyc already fears I am dead.”  The assistant stared questioningly for a moment before departing.Morrick held in his breath, reaching for the blade he had used for so long and then left sitting idly in a wooden crate.  He prayed that the blade would remember him, that he would remember how to use it if need be.  Reverently, the old priest drew blade.  Silently, he adjusted to the once familiar feel.  The sword danced merrily as he swung it.Its about goddamned time, the black metal hissed in his mind.  Those twenty-odd years of staring at the oh so fascinating grain of your chest was beginning to annoy me.</blockquote>

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