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Musings of an old man
Posted: 13 May 2005 10:05 AM |
The old man lay there in his bed, the thick fur covers thrown back and his strong muscled arms folded behind his head; a roaring log fire keeping the small inn room cosy and warm.
When did evil get so strong? He thought to himself. When did fighting the forces of darkness get to be such a chore, instead of the calling it once had been.
Always he had been followed by controversy and often met with scorn, following as he did a deity of a race not his own - a thing few others did. Especially as he was such a martial inclined follower of a goddess normally worshipped in gentler ways. Buckskin and homespun, rather than the steel and mithril he chose to wear.
Sometimes it was so hard, following what he thought was his true calling, when it seemed even those who should be his allies seemed to take and expect so much and yet give very little in return.
The elves, so much in peril - so besieged by the forces of evil; and yet mostly talking around him in a language not his own. SO quick to accept the aid of those that would help and yet so quick also to dismiss when not needed.
The holy order of light, or whatever they called themselves - where were they now with their promises of aid in need, their godly glowing blades, their powers of good against ill. Another, quick to seek aid against the dark tide but slow to come forward to aid those who fought alongside them.
Even his own goddess, despite all his prayers, still seemed to be testing him. Offering great powers and the freedom of choice to use them to battle evil as he saw fit, and yet punishing him for using those powers. Why would the mother allow him to open a portal through which a filthy demon could step, albeit controlled and bound to aid, and yet take him to task over doing such a thing. Surely if another of natures creatures or creations would suit the role better, then she would have granted him that power instead.
And now this latest threat, this latest test. Again unto the darkness - at seemingly the will of one brought back to work such evil deeds by the mothers own hands! Thrice had the mothers love brought back the shattered corpse of the fire priestess, when others sought to ignore or leave her to her fate. And yet the compassion and love of the mother returned her.
Was this the way it should be then, love and compassion always given and never recieved. Was the war against the dark tide of evil always to be so one-sided, such an uphill struggle - such a thankless task?
What should he do, he thought to himself, where should he go forward from here. |
Jack Sprat - Dashing half-elven 'pirate' rogue
Rasputin Kalarmander - Old human cleric of Elbereth
Coral Shadeleaper - Timid elven wizard
Fenris Wolf - Barbarian elf ranger
Leaf Barksson - Elven druid
Xyfar-noo - Dwarven traveling cleric |
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Re: Musings of an old man
Posted: 13 May 2005 06:31 PM |
(( nice post Jack )) |
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Re: Musings of an old man
Posted: 17 May 2005 08:06 AM |
The sticks looked to be holding, thought the old man as he looked up from the heavy bandages around his left shin.
At first he had calmly walked past the wolf pack, secure within the sanctuary of his goddess, as he went to meet Jimmy and head towards the volcano and the inevitability of the meeting with the evil that dwelt within. Suddenly he felt a tearing pain in his leg and noticed a trap, splintering the bones of his left shin and hurling him forwards to the ground. Unarmed, and suddenly surrounded by a fast-moving pack of ravenous wolves - he had reached for the mothers power, but he was unprepared for such a situation and had nothing suitable! The best he could do was the most minor of curing before quickly surrounding himself with barriers of blades.
Most of the wolves died in the first few seconds - impaled and skewered through by the enchanted blades spinning about the fallen man. However, a few - the largest and most cunning - were a little behind the others of the pack, and judged the distances well enough to come skidding down an icy slope, before jumping over the barriers.
Quickly dragging free his morning star of bone, he laid about himself - having not even prepared the spell which would bring to life its flames (not given where he was headed to - it seemed prudent to prepare other weapons than those of flame). Smashin aside teeth and claws, he took many wicked hits himself before finally besting the alpha male and sending the other huge wolves fleeing into the snow.
Breathing heavily, he checked his wounds, only to find that the regenerative properties of his magical armour had begun to knit the bones in his shin together - crookedly and out of alignment. Swearing heavily to himself, he cast about for some stout deadfalls of wood. Finding some, he put a short length between his teeth and brought his swirling bone weapon down hard into his own shin.
When the stars finally cleared from his vision, he used the remainder of the wood to splint his shattered leg, before trickling his last tiny heling spell into the leg to ease the pain. Wrapping it tightly in the bandages from his pack, he began to limp slowly back to the tavern. He would need rest to prepare more spells before he could fully heal the leg - so it seemed he would not make his meet with Jimmy, or indeed the others.
Bah! Let the foces of evil that dwelt within the volcano think of him what they would - he had meant to attend, and only extreme circumstances had kept him away, the old man thought to himself. He wondered if the life of that priestess, and indeed the returning of it to her mortal frame, counted either in his favour in the eyes of the Naruthians or against him in the eyes of Elbereth. Shrugging his shoulders he guessed only time would tell.
Let the elves think of his absense what they would - he had recieved no word from them since last helping them. It seemed that long-lived as they were, the help and gold of others meant little to them so long as they got what they needed.
Turning his face towards the vale, the old man limped for home.... |
Jack Sprat - Dashing half-elven 'pirate' rogue
Rasputin Kalarmander - Old human cleric of Elbereth
Coral Shadeleaper - Timid elven wizard
Fenris Wolf - Barbarian elf ranger
Leaf Barksson - Elven druid
Xyfar-noo - Dwarven traveling cleric |
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Re: Musings of an old man
Posted: 14 Jun 2005 08:44 AM |
Stretching the muscles of his back, the old man pondered his next actions.
Newly invigorated after weeks of grueling excercise and punishing fitness training, he felt ready once more to take on the world. Well, at least what the world decided to throw at him - if not the whole of the world at once.
Strapping on his newly gleaming armour again, the old dents and scratches buffed out, he stood looking in his mirror. Still the same tired old face stared back at him. Was it worth him taking up the cause once more? He had heard the rumours over the last few weeks - but doggedly kept up his regime so he was ready to face the trials which surely awaited him, as prepared as could be. Did the forces of good still need him? Did the forces of good even still exist - or had they been swept away on the every increasing tide of filth and evil which seemed to be rising at every turn?
And somewhere out there, he mused to himself, he could hear Drone calling to him. A proper weapon to smite the darkness - and one which he would strive to find.
Stepping out into the swirling snow, he turned his face into the wind - tiny irridescent crystals of ice already frosting his beard. Jimmy and Brodie first he decided - they would know what was happening in the wider world. He needed news of recent events and current affairs, lest the evil that men do, crept upon him unawares.... |
Jack Sprat - Dashing half-elven 'pirate' rogue
Rasputin Kalarmander - Old human cleric of Elbereth
Coral Shadeleaper - Timid elven wizard
Fenris Wolf - Barbarian elf ranger
Leaf Barksson - Elven druid
Xyfar-noo - Dwarven traveling cleric |
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