AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic

Word of mouth spreads like wildfire through the Commonwealth and even beyond to further reaches of the island, to the Holy City of Kholingen and the Lowlands and the Dale. There are no posters that go up in the limited amount of time, but rumor becomes story becomes fact becomes edict becomes legend:

The Commonwealth's heroic Salandran, Weston Carter, youth of the goddess, is to conduct the Miracle of the Resurrection upon the Commonwealth's most beloved figure, the late Johnathin Leohnard, to snatch him from the afterlife and commit him into the arms of his loved ones, his people, whom fate - and a murderous adventuring community - saw fit to take him from so suddenly.

Before his Time.

The Rite is to take place on Moribund. Father Redweth of the Chapel of Lathander is seen at dawn the following morning, consecrating the grounds to ensure the dead stay at rest during the ceremony. Citizens of the Commonwealth and even pilgrims from the Holy City of Kohlingen and the Lowlands arrive in Cordor, eager to see what they believe shall be a Grand Process of the Resurrected Minister - or, if they are lucky, bear witness to the Miracle itself.

// In slightly less than 24 hours from now. After 9pm CST.

Hearing of this, Christophan bows his head.

~By the gods, please be successful Weston... if you are.. I may offer what I can, and find succor.. ~

Last edited by Torzeng on Thu, Oct 29 2009, 14:16 PM, edited 1 time in total.

Weston leaves from Cordor just as the flurry of rumors begin. Ducking out from the commonwealth halls, he takes swiftly to his temple and gather one extra object since he now finds that his efforts will be elsewhere than before Salandra's idol. So he collects a symbol of the Lady in White with a small figuring made for those who would carry it traveling. Realizing it better safe than sorry, he goes out of his way to see if any diamonds have come in recent aquisition to vendors in the Holy City and near Bendir Dale, finding somebody able to supply him more... just in case.

He returns to Cordor keeping with a minimal fuss as he could hope for. Just like he had promised, he was back within the hour to be under the watch of some of the guard for the next day's ritual. He moved past the people giving a warm smile but staying determined not to be slowed, or drop his guard. He could be in threat now with his name moving across the town(s) so rapidly and he knew it.

A guard stayed with Weston as arranged for, Weston being directed to wherever was best. There was not much he had to do in preperation other than let himself relax, wait, and perform is night-time prayer, and prayer at dawn next morning to Salandra in thanks to her guidance. Still, he could not really refuse when he heard Warrick wanted to speak to him. "Let him in."

Weston wasn't out for the fame or skepticism that the rumors were surely to bring. He sat comfortably with is prayer book on his lap, hand written to his own works after well spent study on the ritural. He knew his verses, but he was looking over notes and penning alterations to account for his change of location, and the expectance of a few named individuals.

All he cared for was to give Johnathin this chance. He had sworn it as orphan to orphan he would find a way. It was ironic he came to the council with concern over other dangerous matters, and now here he was, with the information he needed to save Johnathin Leohnard. He knew it was his last chance, but he was so sure of it now to be possible. Weston was not capable of even the smallest sense of possibility he would not succeed.

Either he was setting up to perform a great work, just short of a true miracle to those who understood the variance in divinity; or he was caught up with zeal and only a day away from a great falling. He was ignorant of this situation.

"I know that Johnathin Leohnard will come back. Even after this time, he will. Because he deserves his chance at life, a life with so much for him once he discovers his own potential. No man with an aura like Johnathin Leohnard bears in gentle unknowing will be stopped by anything but old age. I will draw upon all I can to give him a true chance to be ressurected. I have sworn this, my only shortcoming that I let it take so long! But it can be done, Johnathin deserves it."

//sorry Warrick ^_^;; set it up as we agreed in-game since I couldn't stay!//
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Warrick quietly bowed his head as he made his way to speak with Weston, deeply contemplative. On being let in, Warrick sighed as he nodded to Weston.

"Yes Weston, Johnathin deserves to live once more... he was taken before his time... let us pray... "he said quietly, praying with Weston.

Darby blinks on hearing the news, then plunks her helm on slipping into the nearest shadow with a quiet mumble....

"Weston?"

"Should be quite a show.."

Weston was quite relieved that Warrick's coming to visit was not the make a long discussion or rifle over the matter. He was in fact very glad that the man, much a friend, had come by if only to share some of the prayers of daily life, and one for the 'morrow. It was comforting to the contrast that this ritual had gone from the ideals of simple, honest, and pure to being a more complex performance with many, honest, and pure.

"I was told lightly by Sir Maximillian how the guard rotates, and will for tomorrow. If your duty is going to let you, Warrick, I would be glad to see you upon Moribund as well. As it was before that you helped, if you can or would come to again."

The bells in the tower of the Commonwealth Center peal in jubilation. The pilgrims in the Commonwealth cry in joy as the Salandran Boat returns from the Island of Moribund, bearing the Miracle Worker, Weston, and a figure draped in a white and red robe.

Though the Law Knights leap to action when the vessel docks and the Elite Guards turn their crossbows towards the skies, wary of the gulls screaming overhead, and even in spite of the haggard, almost frightened or worried look on the faces of those accompanying the Miracle Worker and the Man in the Robe, the people wail for joy.

And when the cowl of the Robe slips off to reveal the ashen, yet angelic and smiling face of Johnathin Leohnard, eyes closed peacefully, people prostrate themselves along the walkways of Cordor, reaching out to touch the hem of Weston's garb, or to feel Johnathin's fingers.

He is Risen.

The Commonwealth was active and alive with rejoicing and partying and merriment. All eagerly await to hear the first words spoken by the man who was born, died, and rose again.

Men do not Weep... .. The words echoed in Christophan's mind as he sat with Jud'vardas and Weston in the Nomad.

Obviously, you haven't had a family Minister Tytalus...

"Twenty Seven, Minus Seven. Twenty."

Weston was shaken after the true ressurection ritual came to an end. The surge of divine energy that he had felt paass through his body; it was like a drug, who could really say otherwise? It was such moments in knowing you feel your Godess there and with you that burned into memory. The adrenaline and the excitement washed over him, and left him, as Johnathin Leohnard blinked in confusion to the living world.

Weston's senses were numbed. He did not put attention into the touch of citizens he had to pass by with the escort. His body was certainly tired by the experience. It took him a good moment of quiet to regain himself as aware. He breathed slowly, his smile shined, and he laughed happily; Johnathin was back!

Weston insisted that the first men he was outside the Commonwealth hall join him for drinks, Warrick and Jud'vardas. He let himself be a little exuberant giving cheers and overdid it just so on the mead. But after all this? He knew his life might not be so quiet. The complete rammifications were only going to be seen with time.

Which man will they see as a leader now? Weston had been asked, and he insisted: Leohnard.

Avadon shook his head when he heard the news. He greeted the declarations with disbelief at first, but he soon came to see the truth behind the claims that the ritual had actually succeeded. "I can't believe it actually worked..." Quite a few hours later, he steps out of the door to his rented home. The knight walks past a number of joyous Cordorian citizens, still celebrating the miraculous event. A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth and it is a long while before it fades.

The Miracle of the Resurrection

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