[Sedna]

Marignon, Turn 15

Ghost

The tree branch is smooth and the sun is warm. To the east, I spy rising dust. The armies of Pythium march north towards the Plains of Eternal Peril, covering the world under their purple banner. The wind tosses the tree, but I remain motionless.

Down below the tree there is a a rough dirt track. Used frequently enough to prevent large plants from blocking it, but not enough to prevent a covering of low weeds, grasses, and wildflowers, it is perfect cover for my line. This finest thread, strong as a rope many times its size, is loosely stitched to the tree across the way. It runs invisible across the path, then up into my tree to where it is tied onto a large boulder which I hauled up via a pulley with much effort earlier in the day.

My eyes flicker. The long evening had started at the pub...


"May the devils take your soul sir!"

"They most assuredly have yours already!"

"You spit upon the church, and turn your back upon the LORD of hosts!"

"Lies, and filthy lies! The Emperor Telicus, Lord of the Emerald Throne, worships the LORD in more truth than the blood-sucker Wic."

Wedged between the frightening Forest of Wic, the aptly named Mountains of Madness, and the new lands being conquered by Pythium, the most powerful and cruel fragment of the old empire, the horse people of Tapanete were quickly realizing that there would need to choose sides. Aftial had told me that there were many loyal worshipers of the church here. They would bring Tapanete over to the side of right if a few disloyal leaders could be removed.

"You dare insult the Archbishop! Right! I'll have your leg for that!" And the pub descended into chaos while I sat sipping my hot water against one wall, unnoticed by all.


A hoofbeat. I am awake without moving. Stupid to have fallen asleep, but still plenty of time. Mestor is alone, flying down the track on his horse to respond to the dreadful news that his prize stallion was murdered last night.


Horrible horse screams, and blood everywhere. Soon there would be guards, but I couldn't help feel a bit of remorse for this poor creature. Every man whose life I have poured out into the earth has been a man of power, with a thousand crimes, petty or great, which merit death, but this poor animal...


I shake the memory, plant my feet noiselessly. Mestor is only a few heartbeats away. I shove mightily and boulder plummets to the earth, snapping the thread up to exactly throat level. He makes no sound as he tumbles off. I leap lightly from the tree. Somehow he has fumbled his sword free. A weak stroke slides off my shield, then my sword flickers up under his rib cage and a sharp twist spills entrails into the sunny morning light.

The LORD has granted me victory again. All praise the name of Aftial, protector of the weak, goddess of courage, swift, terrible vengeance upon the unworthy!

His horse, confused by loosing its master, turns around, comes over and is looking at me. I reach for its reigns gently, "Come on, let's get you to a better master."

Esclave

997 A.P.P.M.
Salutations Magister Esclave,

The time is almost at hand. Your mastery of earth magick under the guidance of Amirdon has proceeded quickly, and my construction here in the forest is complete. Soon the Magus Temple, with you as the first student and teacher, will host many capable magicians not bound by the politics and strictures of the church.

But we must be careful. The Three of Three has uncovered a treacherous letter which appears to seek some sort of understanding with the undead menace to the west. The Church has always used such opportunities to purge those who scare them, and I fear they will try to pin this letter on me. In the council I can count on the support of Polgrave, Muszinger, and Amirdon. I cannot say how Forest will decide, but with Elkland's seat still empty, a tie will be broken by Marignon voting against me. Before this can happen, we must make ourselves strong.

I am disturbed, for I can find no information about the true author of this note. Post-scriptum I pen the portions released by the council. I know it is not much to go on, but I hope you will help me uncover this traitor and clear my name.

In His Name,
The Archbishop of Wic


Greetings,

The Church,----------------, has a wealth of --------------- notions about you. There are those of us, however, who take a more practical view of the world. ---------------------------- --------------------------------------

I must stress that I cannot speak for the entire Church, ---------------------------------------------- Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement, temporary truce, or at least a sham war to placate ---------------------------- my side. If you are interested in discussing such a policy simply send back a note with this messenger.

In peace,
A lesser foe


Esclave,

Be not afraid. You have sought me in your studies all your life. In vain did you look in books and ancient prophecies while I stood beside you and held your hand. In your heart you have always known, why else did you never ask my name when we were together? The LORD dwells in the heart of every man, granting him the knowledge of good and evil-- how to recognize angel from devil. When first your eyes beheld me they glimpsed a heaven you had never known in the dark cathedrals of the church.

And yet good men are still led astray. Seduced by power, they seek to use that power to save others, the kingdom, the church. Ever and again they are lost to the light. Be on your guard, but be not afraid. You have known me and your soul is claimed for God. Neither the dusty grave nor the hosts of Hell can separate you from His love, and thence from mine.

I go now into the wild. Though I will visit you in dreams ever and anon, I will not write again for a season, but which time it will have been three of three months since I left your side...

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.

Aftial