Post by Rabbit on May 28, 2009 10:34:59 GMT -5
It has only been a week since you arrived in the small town of Duvik’s Pass. An outbreak of Beggar’s Plague has been spreading for the past four months. Unable to quell the disease himself the local Cleric sent a request for aid to Marsh Bay. Your superiors were reluctant to grant you leave at first. The Church Administrators preferred to appoint one of the younger less established clergy though with enough of your insistence they agreed to send you.
“Go on then, stretch your legs a bit.” The bishop told you from behind his desk. “Do what you can then come back to us. I want you available to light the candles for the Autumn Sunset Festival next month.”
But when you arrived in Duvik’s Pass you found the small town in more dire need than anticipated. Nearly a fourth of the town was infected. Crops had withered before the harvest leaving the winter rations dangerously low. Herd animals lay dying in the fields.
When your caravan arrived you were greeted by a half-elf Pelorian Cleric who introduced himself as Father Samual. The Temple of Pelor, which was quit the impressive building for such a small town, was overpopulated with the sick, and Father Samual put you right to work. For the past five days you have hardly had time to leave the temple. Daily by noon your spells have are been converted to healing just to keep the sick alive. While not sick yourself, you are exhausted. Father Samual and his two acolytes share your exhaustion, but tend to the sick endlessly.
On your fifth day in town Father Samual asks you to join him in his private chambers. The round room, while modest, is one of the larger rooms in temple. A single bed rests against the wall with two seats and a table nearby. A alter to the Sun God is centered in the room and takes up most of the area. A well polished suit of full plate and a finely crafted mace hang on the wall opposite the bed.
“Please have a seat.” The half-elf says as he rests himself onto one of the chairs. “I wanted to thank you for all the help you’ve done here. Pelor has blessed us with your presence.”
The cleric pours two cups of mead. “I have never been much of a drinker myself, but ever since the water was declared unclean imported alcohol has become a staple. Please join me?”
As he sips his drink Father Samual seems all too happy to absorb the silence and stillness of the room. Eventually he speaks again. “Things are grim here Brother Marle, even more than you realize… tell me, what is your experience with undeath?”
“Go on then, stretch your legs a bit.” The bishop told you from behind his desk. “Do what you can then come back to us. I want you available to light the candles for the Autumn Sunset Festival next month.”
But when you arrived in Duvik’s Pass you found the small town in more dire need than anticipated. Nearly a fourth of the town was infected. Crops had withered before the harvest leaving the winter rations dangerously low. Herd animals lay dying in the fields.
When your caravan arrived you were greeted by a half-elf Pelorian Cleric who introduced himself as Father Samual. The Temple of Pelor, which was quit the impressive building for such a small town, was overpopulated with the sick, and Father Samual put you right to work. For the past five days you have hardly had time to leave the temple. Daily by noon your spells have are been converted to healing just to keep the sick alive. While not sick yourself, you are exhausted. Father Samual and his two acolytes share your exhaustion, but tend to the sick endlessly.
On your fifth day in town Father Samual asks you to join him in his private chambers. The round room, while modest, is one of the larger rooms in temple. A single bed rests against the wall with two seats and a table nearby. A alter to the Sun God is centered in the room and takes up most of the area. A well polished suit of full plate and a finely crafted mace hang on the wall opposite the bed.
“Please have a seat.” The half-elf says as he rests himself onto one of the chairs. “I wanted to thank you for all the help you’ve done here. Pelor has blessed us with your presence.”
The cleric pours two cups of mead. “I have never been much of a drinker myself, but ever since the water was declared unclean imported alcohol has become a staple. Please join me?”
As he sips his drink Father Samual seems all too happy to absorb the silence and stillness of the room. Eventually he speaks again. “Things are grim here Brother Marle, even more than you realize… tell me, what is your experience with undeath?”
