Posted by *ORB* on October 5, 2000 at 04:58:33:
In Reply to: A role... 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.