|
The collected Letters of Sir Aidan Whitestone
Posted: 15 Aug 2005 02:04 PM |
Laurana~
It has been five weeks since now since my I have left the White City, though perhaps it shall be twice the measure by the time this letter makes its way to you. I shall be praying that it finds you and yours well.
Errantry has not been the relief from the life of military rigour that once I thought it would be. It is now my faith that is tested, and admittedly tested to its very limit. The continent has proven to be cold and lonely removed from my Brethren and from you. I have not been recieved into the outside world with joy, as once I had thought. Midoran is misunderstood by all in the North, it seems. I have tried to spread Light though the Northlands- lending aid to the weak and wretched, as my Lord has commanded of me.
Laurana, I cannot describe to you how it feels to be spat upon in return. The pagan influence is strong outside the White City, elf and human alike harbor loathing and hatred for the Just Hand. I have been treated as pariah and leper. It is painful, but as such makes my charge to spread the Light painfully clear.
I shall return, in time, to Midor. I cannot help but feel that I have much work to do in the Northlands first, however. It is cold and thankless work, to be sure, but Midoran willing, I shall return to the fold with renewed faith and purpose. I take heart only in returning home to the city that shall always hold my heart, and if He finds me worthy, to swear my vows anew to Midoran himself.
My best wishes to you and your family. Erick will be nine soon, will he not? I have no doubt that he is growing into a fine young man.
In Midoran's Name,
Sir Aidan Whitestone
Lieutenant, 1st Templar Division
Chapter of the Lion |
Malakhi Aquistine
Erick Whitestone |
|
  |
|
|
Intermission
Posted: 15 Aug 2005 06:45 PM |
The head of a medusa is seen staked upon a Midoran Cross
near the entrance to the abandoned mines of Port Royale.
Its eyes are sown carefully and tightly shut and a cross of ashes
has been marked upon its forehead.
Beggars in the area tell of a man enrobed in white and a
blond-haired woman placing it there in the early hours just before dawn. |
Malakhi Aquistine
Erick Whitestone |
|
|
|
|
The collected Letters of Sir Aidan Whitestone
Posted: 15 Aug 2005 07:26 PM |
Laurana~
Midoran willing, this letter will find you well, as before.
I regret to say that time has not warmed the coldness of the Northlands. The clouds that have settled in the sky and the rain that falls in incessant sheets have come to match my greying mood to irritating perfection.
I have now seen city of Port Royale for myself- I can now say with authority that everything that you have heard in Midor is true, with neither embellishment nor exaggeration. The guard there is largely ineffective- armed thugs and... even worse roam the city undeterred by any form of law. I shall not relate my accounts of such to you, as it would not be appropriate reading for a lady of your virtue and stature.
Hatred of Midor is strong here as well. They are a faithless people, those of Port. It is so sad, Laurana. They do not even realize the better life that could be thiers with the Light of Midoran. I cannot chastise their ignorance- they seem to have known no better life than they have now.
I begun to show them the Light of Midoran, humbly, but in pointed statement. I shall not force it upon them, but I will not relent. It is here now, and they may accept it on thier own terms. The Light is justification in and of itself.
My path is clearing before me, I take heart in this. Midoran guides my journey, indeed.
They have seen the harsh glare of Midoran's Light.
Now I will show them the warmth that it affords when tempered with humanity.
It is my sincerest wishes that Erick has had a pleasant ninth birthday. I shall bring his gift with me upon my return, whenever I may be afforded such a luxury.
Blessed be, Laurana. I await my chance to rest my weary eyes upon your smiling face.
In Midoran's Name,
Sir Aidan Whitestone
Lieutenant, 1st Templar Division
Chapter of the Lion |
Malakhi Aquistine
Erick Whitestone |
|
|
|
|
The collected Letters of Sir Aidan Whitestone
Posted: 25 Aug 2005 04:40 PM |
Laurana~
I have not written in what seems ages, and I am sorry. It is difficult to write even now.
I would not wish you to worry about my condition. I am still sound in the flesh,
if not the in the heart.
I shall be making my return to Midor much sooner than I had formerly thought.
Midoran has lost too many of His faithful, lay and paladin alike. The urgency seems to be very great now.
I shall start for the City within the week. I shall swear my vows anew,
and I shall petition Him to ordain me so that I might tend to His lost flock abroad.
I should like to see you. It will be some time before I am returned to the City again.
In Midoran's Name,
Sir Aidan Whitestone
Lieutenant, 1st Templar Division
Chapter of the Lion |
Malakhi Aquistine
Erick Whitestone |
|
|
|
|
Re: The collected Letters of Sir Aidan Whitestone
Posted: 06 Oct 2005 12:54 AM |
And so the troubled Paladin returned to the White City.
He was recieved with no fanfare, no celebration. The disciplined respect formerly given by the gate captain seemed to him now formal and cold. In the market, he saw the knowing glances that were passed between husband and wife. Between the vendors in the market. Between the guards at their posts.
He thought back. It had all started with Tia.
-----------
The smell of the spiced incense, the glow of His throne setting the room in Light. It all came back. He set her limp body down on the floor and begged Midoran and Sister Mary, the attending priestess, to give her breath again. Midoran had understood him. His clergy had not.
"Good morning, sunshine" he had said when she suddenly drew breath again. Something like that. Something frivolous.
Her confusion was quickly darkened with a look of utter horror. He turned. Sister Mary was barely supressing a look of disbelief. Sir Aidan Whitestone had brought Tia Dy'nen to the very throne of Midoran and asked that she be granted new life. Tia Dy'nen, Cleric of Vilyave, touched with elven blood. No, they did not understand, but Midoran had provided. With Midoran's help, he was turning her away from her pagan goddess. But they did not understand.
-----------
He turned his thoughts to the present. He would stay at his home a night. He smiled to himself as he thought of his parents' surprise when he greeted them in the morning. The Academy could wait a day, beside.
He lay in his bed a time later, and as he drifted to sleep his thoughts turned to his son... |
Malakhi Aquistine
Erick Whitestone |
|
|
|