Posted by The Arcane(VIP) on October 5, 2000 at 00:20:39:
My little CF death-knell from back in August... I figured that maybe I was bored due to being stuck in a rut (conjurer, warrior, conjurer, warrior, conjurer...) so why not try something totally new. So I figured I'd try a paladin... good-aligned, never played an empowerment class before, and didn't know jack about neo-paladins. Every past empowerment char I'd ever tried, I'd given up on when my prayers weren't answered, and rolled a warrior. :P This time, I decided to be persistent. I had some fun moments, and I'd say I put more effort into consistently roleplaying this character than I'd done with any of my past characters. But after a week or two, I just didn't feel like logging on anymore, to my surprise really, so I didn't. If nothing else, school's a lot easier with all this free time. :P Brief thanks to Shokai for empowerment, and to Rocham for providing an entertaining and competent totally-IC permagroup of sorts. Anyway, here's the role: Level 1: Immediately upon birth, it was a foregone conclusion that Ascelliar was to be a In all the excitement, not once did they pause to question whether or not their The young Ascelliar wrestled internally with this seeming contradiction. Was He found himself aloft, looking down upon a great ruined city: corpses, Ascelliar awoke with a start. It was not yet daybreak. He crept out into ------ Level 13: ------- Level 25: More comfortable around his fellow paladins since gaining empowerment, ----- [At this point I sent a long, long IC-serious OOC-sarcastic note to Shokai along the lines of "Hmm, these elder paladins say this is OK, and since they surely know more than me, I must be wrong. Please tell me in what way I'm wrong, so I can serve you better, etc..." Then prayed a bunch, but never got a response, and my interest somehow evaporated shortly after.]
crusader. His father, Pyrios, and his elder brother, Ghaenor, were warriors of
the Light. A household shrine to the Skyborn occupied a central location in
their home. Upon learning of impending fatherhood, most men would consult a
carpenter or a tailor, that a sturdy cradle and comfortable garb would be ready
for the coming child. Pyrios went instead to the local blacksmith. Ascelliar
was not born, as heroes of legend are said to be, with sword in hand, but he
nevertheless had his tiny hand upon the pommel of a massive silver blade not
moments after emerging from the womb. The infant Ascelliar embodied all his
father's hopes and dreams--Ghaenor had been eager, but lacked the raw skill of
his ancestors, and was thus something of a disappointment. In this newborn
child, the bloodline would be redeemed, and the battle against the Dark would
be carried on proudly by future generations. If ever a child could be said
to be born for war, so this one was.
new son would want that life for himself. They should have. He was
enthusiastic at first, certainly, eagerly anticipating his coming of age, that
he might at last taste true battle. As he grew into adolescence, however, and
began to think more independently, he questioned the path before him. His
father and brother would return from battle drenched in blood, both their
own and that of their foes. Their visages were terrifying to the young child,
even as he chastized himself, ashamed for being afraid of so common a thing
as blood. And yet he wondered at all the bloodshed. The priests in his
village spoke of killing another man as evil and profane, and yet they smiled
and benevolently praised the warriors of the village who did just that, daily.
the solution to death and destruction really yet more violence? Even more
troubling: on the battlefield, what difference was there really between those
whose armor was silver, and those for whom it was black? Shouldn't the
difference between good and evil be more clear-cut than that, for a man to
devote his life to the crusade? He slept restlessly, very much uncertain of
his future, and even more afraid of what rejecting it would do to his family.
He had resolved to tell his father that he intended to speak to the priests
about pursuing the clerical arts and become a healer, and the night before
he was to make his announcement, his heart beat so powerfully in his chest
that he knew he would not find the comfort of sleep that night. And yet, a
deep slumber fell suddenly over him.
rubble, smouldering ashes everywhere. Small black-clad figures lumbered
awkwardly across the desolate landscape, defiling the corpses in search of
plunder, and trailing dark blood behind them. In the distance, the sonorous
beat of a bass drum sounded the march of endless rows of shackled humans,
bleeding and caked with grime. Suddenly, a point of blinding white light
flared at the heart of the carnage, rising like quicksilver up to the
sky, ensconced in silver flame. He glimpsed for a second a phoenix within
the radiance, before it plunged downward once more. When it collided with
the earth, that silver flame spread rapidly outward, consuming everything
in sight. The looters shrieked as they dissolved beneath its onslaught.
The drummers and guards attempted to flee, but there was no escape. The
light grew brighter and brighter until nothing could be seen save for that
all-enveloping luminescence. When it dimmed, where the destruction had
once been, was now a city of white marble, glistening in the sun,
surrounded by fertile green fields dotted with farms. Children played in
the streets, trailing colored banners and ribbons behind them, and the
music of songbirds filled the air. As he floated slowly down to the green
pastures below, beside him in the meadow lay a simple scroll. He began to
read: [insert first line of paladin code here].
the main chamber of the house and took down the sword that had been forged
for the day of his birth. He knelt and bowed his head before the small
shrine of the Phoenix, murmured a brief prayer, and strode purposefully out
into the light.
After coming of age somewhat, and coming to know the land of Thera that lay
beyond the confines of his village, Ascelliar undertook a great pilgrimage to
the shrine of the Phoenix, nestled deep in the dark mountains, a beacon for the
Light, and a symbol of the religion itself. Daily, he went and prayed fervently
before the gleaming altar, at times so immersed in his meditation that he grew
weak from starvation and thirst. When his prayers were not answered, he
ventured forth into the world to prove himself through deeds. In his travels,
he had heard that Jaragh often had problems with young ruffians abusing the
orphans in his care, and novices at the White Tower prayed daily that they would
be Accepted for higher study before the Amyrlin Seat, so that they would be
spared their near-daily torment. Ascelliar frequented these places, and he did
indeed find dark souls whom he dispatched whenever possible, and spoke to at
length of the fate that awaited them should they not embrace the Light and
redeem their sins. He battled long and hard to repay an old favor (the loan of
a pair of gloves) to the S'kra chief of murky Ysigrath, finally returning with
news that the Sz'weh who tainted the swamp with their presence had been dealt
with fully. After these deeds, and others, Ascelliar was at last recognized
by the Skyborn, who imbued him with a portion of His power, that he might
better perform His work in the mortal realm.
Ascelliar began to examine his guildmates more critically, fleshing out his
beliefs and realizing that they differed in many cases from those of his peers.
One instance in particular revealed a marked contrast between his view and
those of even another follower of the Skyborn. Returning to his guild after
long travel battling the darkness, he came upon Laureolia and Horvald, who
offered to gather some clothing with him. Before Ascelliar could blink,
Laureolia summoned Tarus the master of the Galadonian lumberyard and slew him
with a flick of her blade, and Horvald summoned and attacked an elite dwarven
guard from Mortorn. Ascelliar protested that there was no justification for
the murder of innocent graywalkers who had committed no wrong... and surely
none for aiding the duergar horde in Mortorn by summoning away one of the
defenders... for what? For clothing? Ascelliar refused the gifts and strode
off, being chided for arrogance by his peers. He was uneasy about what had
transpired, and thought back to the days of his youth, and what difference
there really was between the men in silver and the men in black. His mind
would not rest until he found answers, either in elder Maran, or from the
Skyborn himself. In order to preach to others and speak of righteousness,
he must first be certain of the cause to which he has dedicated his life.