AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic

(( This thread is open for any regular Nes'ek players, DMs and just visitors alike to tell what their characters are doing in the town. ))

Vanora stood in Nes'ek by the central well-spring, leaning to its edge with both of her hands, head tilted down and chin resting against her upper chest. The day was terribly hot and she felt like choking due to the heat; she would never get entirely used to the desert climate. Pearls of sweat came to her forehead and she raised a hand to wipe them off, knowing that as soon as she'd be done with it, the pearls would return. Vanora took a few deep breaths, then pushed herself further away from the well and turned around, looking here and there with somewhat blurred vision.

"Lord Kelemvor help me..." she murmured to herself.

She stared ahead, bewildered due to the view she saw: A giant laughing skull, right in the middle of the square of Nes'ek. Vanora glanced at the commoners who were doing their daily businesses, but none of them seemed to see the same as herself. She approached the skull, though only to find out that she could not reach it; the skull maintained the same distance as before.

"Mirage..."

"No. I am real, and I have come to take revenge for all those people you have interrogated, judged and punished", spoke the skull.

The burning sun certainly had done its job well since rational thinking became a real challenge to the Kelemvorite. She, however, picked up a handful of pebbles and threw them at the skull, seeing some of the pebbles fly right through it. The giant skull did not seem to mind that, simply continued to laugh. Vanora swayed from side to side, the words and the laughter coming from the skull echoing in her head.

"Think, Vanora, think... Someone would have called the guards if it was real. You are just tired and been hit by insolation", she continued quietly.

Then, she fell down, somewhere behind the shrine of Hoar, and many hours later woke up to a worried looking woman sprinkling water to her face.

Rikkudai, venturing back from the frozen wastes stumbles slightly after the portal whips him to Ne'sek.

The heat blasts him, his eyes feeling the stinging of the sand, whipped by the ravishing winds.

"Nothing like home" He thinks to himself, "Wherever I should call that now"

A transpoted native to just south of the spine of the world, icy regions being is preferred domicile, but answering Hoar's call, and rising into it, Khem by way of Ne'sek is his new home.

He sighs and pats the large Boar by his side, "Khan it is nothing like the steppes of my first home, yet oddly similar"

The boar would cock his head to listen and paw at teh ground for a few morsels of grass that poke through the deset floor, reacing desperately to the sun, their only reward a few unjust days in the scorching sun, turning a brilliant green and then to a wayward brown.

He walks into the Chapel of Hoar, the darkness inside a stark contrast, his hunters eyes quickly adjusting by habit And he begins to have words with one of the Avengers, speaking to him as a superior, as his title is a mere novice. He relays the recent ten-days events as ordered and takes his cot in the back room.

He takes off his armor, and changes into a pair of sleeping shorts, leaving his chest bare.

Kneeling in the back room he speaks outloud, his voice reverberating off the stones walls. "Hoar, God, grant me the wisdom to seek out those who desire retribution, use me as a vessel for your whim. It is not my will nor my pride for i come to thee. Lord of Three Thunders, I ask that you grant me fierceness and determination to carry along the Gospel of Divine Reciprocty, allow me to bring to those end who have brought end unto others. I will under your servant Luthor Ultionis, champion your name, wherever heralded.

He climbs on to the cot and pulls the light blanket over his shoulders, the sheet feeling odd against the whip lashignso n his back, he closes his eyes and thinks of his own redemtion and the just acts he has brought in Hoar's name. These pleasant memories distract from remembering the story of his scars. Khan squeezes underneath the flimsy cot and they both drift into a deep slumber.

As is typical of a priest of Osiris, Tauronemhet journeys to Nes'ek to see to those who he feels a slight responsibility towards. Typically he brings with him foodstuffs for the peasantry and to have a brief word with any servants of Kelemvor or Lathander whilst generally avoiding the members of the Ecclesia of Assuran. He gives the temple a wide berthe.

Lately his donation of food stuffs to the people include what seems to be a never ending supply of fresh Salmon, remarkable in the fact that they are all pristine, lacking hook or net damage. He never wears his rank, nor Symbols of Osiris when undertaking this effort.

On many occasions he is seen speaking with either Richard Manson or Vanora Montague of the Eternal Order. Typically these conversations are to the point, although the conversations between Vanora and Tauronemhet are occasioned by zeal that rather lacks in proper thought.

The two might disapear through a portal for some hours and return dishevelled tired, and coated in thick layers of gore from a highly predjudiced assualt on a group of sentients that perverted either or both the laws of Kelemvor or the Whitecrown.

Lately Tauronemhet has been studying the religions of his neighbours, although he still avoids any mention or inherent interest in the Assuryan faith. What may come of this is anyones guess.

An odd visitor, Christophan Warrick of House Kenlyl passed through Ne'sek and the Khem region, traveling to the city of Djedet for a little while, seeking any who would be able to craft wands of a Divine sort.

Not finding any immediately, he decided to spend some time looking around in general and quietly contemplating to himself before returning to Cordor.

//It might be a bit big, but it is a text (re)introducing one of my old characters on Amia. She has been stuck story-wise and I will try bringing her back slowly. This is, basically, a description of her appearance.

A human female of olive skin, waist-length ebony hair, brown eyes with a red tinge and crimson full lips can be seen wandering the desert from time to time, patrolling. She is clearly durpari in origin, even though the red tinge in her eyes might give someone the impression of some fiendish heritage, which can be soon clarified if approached about it.

On her back, there is a tower shield strapped. On her hip, hanging from a belt or sheathead, she has a series of weapons: a mace resting on her left side of her lower back that is encircled with magical fire when undead is around; a whip hanging on her left side in front of her thigh that could be encircled with a cold spell, or another, non-magical; on her right side at her lower back (but not out of reach) a bastard sword crackling from time to time with electricity; and just beside that one, a bit in front of her, an apparently non-magical bastard sword.

So many heavy weapons plus the tower shield will easily tell that she is stronger than apparent. Very much so. The woman has a well-toned and shapely body, muscles being easily noticeable not because they bulge out of her tiny frame (she is no taller than 1,75 m), but because she is very slim of build and she worked them to perfection.

Every morning, if she is not on the road, she is at the Temple of Lathander in Nes'ek, offering a prayer to the Morninglord.

She is often wearing jewelry, of which she has three different holy symbols: one to Lathander that seems to be a larger pendant than the other two she wears, probably because that one is her main god; one to Tymora; and one to Eilistraee.

Her hair is also usually adorned with small gems and other delicate jewelry.

If ever stopped and asked her name, she is Hellena.

*A man in full armor dress, with a tower sheild and bastard sword can be seen standing within' Nes'ek at times. He wears the signs of Tempus, and the Tabard of the Order of the Flaming Blade. A keen eyed person may track the line of his sight to a building near the market place of Nes'ek, see that his route takes him close to that building at all times. Though he does not stand in the same spot.

It is wise to also note that this man seem's to have his hand on the pommel of his blade to at all times.*

A young Human female. She is seen wearing odd clothing, not often seen in the desert lands, and at other times in skin tight clothing that are black and gray with steal plates at the thighs, shins, forearms and biceps.

She is seen most often coming in and out of the Kelemvorite Cathedrial construction sight. She too is seen at the Chapel of Hoar often. The temple of Lathander, a bit less often.

She stands around, usually under the cover of a building or a tree sometimes and appears to be waiting for something, very patiently and in proper posture.

She does come and go, both in and out of the desert and in and out of the portal to Wiltun. But she spends quiet a bit of time in Nes'ek itself. Sometimes, she's even seen carrying a wrapped corpse, ready for burial.

If the young human female would come into the Chapel of Hoar, she would encounter Rikkudai, a man in his late teens, with jet black hair that grows in patches over a partially burned pate. His scars over his face jutting to and frow carelessly.

He would be in Hoar's colors, cleaning the Chapel and would look up, asking her if she needed anything before returning to his scrubbing.

Zetsumei would bow to the man, telling him, in a heavy Easter accent, that she's only there to pay respects to "Master Hoar". After some prayer, she would head back out into the city.

::

Infront of the construction site the cleregy of the kelemvorite faith stand ready to welcome back the Grand Master as she returns to Nes'ek. The row of steel clad Inquisitors and Knight-Templar seem to not mind the extreme heat radiating from the desert sun.

Fuming censers are swung back and forth and sacred prayers of doctrin are uttered, the scent of burning incense filling the township as the tall woman, followed by a scribe of the Office of Inquisition, walks towards them. "Your excellency, Grand Master, it is an honor to be in your presence once more."

After speaking a few words, the higher ranking members of the faith head inside to discuss the matters at hand, in addition to the cleregy of the eight which has come forth from Djedet and individuals of the Triadic Knights are given audiences to word their concerns and news.

::

Thanking her Lord for the success so far, Vanora prayed in the rear of the construction site. Her words were quiet, yet they echoed in the night. A single candle burnt next to a small idol of Kelemvor, and a piece of exotic incense on the other side. The candle light and swirling smoke of the incense combined with the zealous expression Vanora had on her face were quite an eerie sight.

"My Lord, Judge of the Damned, hear me when I thank you. Righteously I have taken down those who dare to break Your Holy Law, and given them the Justice they sought. No wrongdoer shall be left without his or hers share of the right law.

I ask for no rewards, my only desire is to serve You until it is Your wish to take me to the World Beoynd. Please hear me when I speak to You for I am Your tool and without Your guidance I am nothing but an empty shell. My strong faith is my light in the darkness, and I shall make the lost souls understand what Truth means.

Your will shall be done."

She bowed her head low, her hands holding a silvery symbol of Kelemvor. After a moment of respectful silence, she killed the fire of the candle, rose up, and left the temple to spend rest of the night in her tent outside.

A human male of dim-glowing tanned skin and eyes of a rich sky blue, wearing light clothing in shades of light blue and platinum, can be seen taking a letter to Lady Sin'eela.

He will also request a copy be given to Sharina.

//PM'ing it, to avoid metagaming.

From time to time, a hooded and masked dark skinned man passes through Nes'ek, sometimes trading a few words with the local nomads concerning the roads ahed and possibilities of sandstorms, and occasionly stopping by the temple of Lathandar, muttering a few prayers to the idol.

He is clearly not from Khem, his garb suited more for forests, foothills and plains, being coloured in Green, Brown and Grape, but some of the more observant nomads may see that once outside city limits, the man usually utters a small prayer, and his clothing takes takes the colour of whatever his surroundings are, and he soon disappears into the desert, leaving no tracks behind.

Waking up on another very hot morning at Nes'ek, Ar'usk quickly eats his simple breakfast and puts his Eternal Order vestments, ready for one more day of duty and service to the Lord.

After offering his usual morning prayers by about one hour, together with his good and old father, he goes out to the routine patrol at the city borders.

Back to the city, the initiate of the Order heads to the temple in construction, determined to clean it entirely. He starts by the walls, first rubbing all of them with a big brush and soap, tirelessly, to then wash with water and brush with soap again, so washing one more time.

Some hours had pass, and some more on the cleaning of all the scaffolding and even the roof, the lad always on the same motivation and will, glad to be serving the Lord.

It was almost night when Ar'usk finished to clean the entire floor, finally finishing his job, starving and very tired, but with a large smile always on the face. Several sacks filled with stone and wood pieces, dust and jugs were removed from the construction while the young man talked to himself:

"Two things dwarves are surely quite fast at: building and drinking ale..."

Task done, he goes home to a deserved refreshing bath and a generous dinner. Some tea and a nice conversation with his father preceeds the prayers, and a long night of sleep closes another day of duty on a Kelemvor's servant life.

In one or two easily visible places around Nes'ek, and in front of the temple of Assuran located there, the following posters are hanged up by Gerard.

Quote:

ou of a merciful heart, do you not thirst for justice while wandering the desert of corruption, after the mirage of righteousness dancing in the hot air just above the horizon? Always visible, wondrous, and alluring; yet constantly out of reach. Do your feet not ache from the endless chase?

Know that you are running in circles, for that mirage is a carrot hanged before your eyes by those who would never wish you to reach your goal in the first place. They only wish for you to run, like a rodent in an eternally spinning wheel, powering the gears of crime in the background.

Stop the wheel of mercy, and see the rocky path of retribution. For it leads to His Oasis, where true Justice flows aplenty.

Seek Nes'ek, all you who have ears to hear His calling, seek the Ecclesia of Lord Assuran.

Last edited by Kjetta on Tue, Aug 25 2009, 19:19 PM, edited 4 times in total.

*A letter is pinned to the outside wall of the Shrine of Hoar.*

Citizens of Nes'ek,

it appears there are some confusion among you that I am in position to dispel. Mark my words, you can place trust in the fact that whenever I am in such a position, I will do so. I am not a man of politics, but a priest in the service of enlightenment and truth. Now, It has been said that the Ecclesia of Hoar will not tolerate the presence of Anhur's clergy in Nes'ek. This is not true.

First of all, it is necessary to speak of the order which should exist between men. Any human society, if it is to be well-ordered and productive, must lay down as a foundation this principle, namely, that every human being is a person; that is, his nature is endowed with intelligence and free will. Indeed, precisely because he is a person he has rights and obligations flowing directly and simultaneously from his very nature. And as these rights and obligations are universal and inviolable, so they cannot in any way be surrendered. By natural and divine law, every human being has the right to respect for his person, to his good reputation; the right to freedom in searching for truth and in expressing and communicating his opinions, and in pursuit of art, within the limits laid down by the moral order and the common good. While these rights are continously violated by the ruling class priesthood of Mulhorand, as they are catered to by an army of slaves, the Ecclesia of Hoar does not infringe upon the rights of man so easily. The Avengers of Hoar will not stand in the way of any traveler who wishes to refill his canteen in Nes'ek before going about his lawful business. The presence of these men will be tolerated, as long as the Law of Nes'ek decrees it so, however you should know: Several times already, Priests of Anhur have trespassed into our shrine, carrying with them weapons and ill intentions. If they insist to act according to their nature and creed, we will duly defend ourselves and respond in kind to aggression. It is true, The Ecclesia of Hoar does not tolerate crime.

Health and the thunderous blessing unto all.

Chaplain Luthor Ultionis,
The Ecclesia of Hoar

::

As the Grand Master is given a copy by a novice, she looks over it with a glint of dissatisfaction in her eyes. "Please deliever a note to Chaplain Luthor that I require to speak to him. His church should not give me inexact information." With that, the kelemvorite turns onto the other matters piling up on her desk.

::

Her bare arms and left cheek covered in scratches and her ordinary looking clothing covered in sand and dirt, an elf would have been seen ambling through the small village. Despite looking as if she’d taken a tumble she moved gracefully albeit wonderingly around the Central Square. Her copper colored hair partly held in a pony tail was neat and clean, her amber eyes darting here and there.

She would have seemed to be naming things as she wandered her voice melodic. “Building. Stairs. Door.” Into the Temple of Lathander she went for just a moment or two before coming out. She spoke briefly to the beggar then headed over to squat next to a chicken and pat it, chuckling at the clucking.

She seemed surprised at two women in heavy armor watching them as they spoke with each other then left. She followed but stopped at the well were she drank hand full’s of water. After a conversation with two others who both looked like elves and wore heavy armor she followed them into a portal and was gone.

A large bald headed man, with various symbols on his head, upon passing through Nes'ek, Spys the notice.

He takes a small quill and papyrus from his pack, copies down the notice, and immediatly heads off to the east.

High on the cliffs above Nes'ek sits a familiar figure. Dark skin shining in the daylight, with long red hair tossed about in the errant breezes, it sits, forehead on its knees, slender arms wrapped around its legs. The only shade comes from the large grey wings, when she (it does appear to be female) bothers to raise them. A day, then two, comes and goes, and the figure doesn't move save the occasional raise of Shadow-dragon wings when she can no longer tolerate the desert sun. Clasped in her hand, a necklace with two medallions; however unless one comes close they're too small and faded to be seen.

At night, late, when all others sleep, there's a soft crooning, broken, atonal and lacking any sense of music...whoever this dragoness is, she's in immense pain.

Last edited by Kjetta on Mon, Sep 28 2009, 12:12 PM, edited 1 time in total.

*After some time, a patrol of Nes'ek Defenders, consisting of the younger scout type, makes its way to the cliff to take a look at the situation.*

*Left on the cliff, nothing but drops of blood, and a very old, very worn and once-much-loved pendant of a jawless skull on a purple sunburst is left...nearby, in the spring, a silver ring of Invisibility. The prints show she stumbled off at some point; they then abruptly end.*

As the hot sand slowly lost its bright gold appearance to the fading Sun, a distant flute can be heard echoing hesitantly over the retreating commoners or the occasional traveler. If traced, the tracker would come across a lone woman, walking as if following the wind’s shrill voice, her eyes half-open and unaware of her surroundings. Her expression is one of long felt sadness, a nostalgic image of events spent that linger yet, still fluid visions of the past.

The flute’s gentle and melancholic call can be heard deep into the night until such a moment when it fades and leaves behind the moonlit dunes.

::

As night falls upon Nes'ek, the prayers of the kelemvorite faith fill the Cathedral of the Martyr-Saint as they now do every time the sun sets. Their voices can be heard even in the town square, as their cermon is held.

Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, Judge of the Damned, our Lord, we, thy faithful followers, pray to thee for the strength to do thy bidding.
We thank Thee for all the blessings which Thou givest us.
Thou hast called us to uphold Thy laws, that we may enjoy the light of day and marvel at Thy Majesty.
Open Thou the eyes of our minds to see Thy divine law and incline our hearts ever to do Thy commandments.
Guide our hands against those which do not abide thy laws, for we are thy eternal servants.
For the glory of Thine, Kelemvor, lord of the City of Judgement.

::

::

The Cathedral of the Martyr Saint is locked down. The Grand Master of the Eternal Order and current Temple Mother has narrowly escaped an assasination attempt, now floating between death and life in the care of her cleregy. Apparently shortly after the trial of Malandria and Elana of the Oakmist Vale, an argument broke out between two guests and the Grand Masters concerning their "insultive and disgraceful conduct in the halls of lord Kelemvor". An elven male ranger seen in the presence of the druids before hand attacked the head of the kelemvorite church, slaying the priestess from behind with numerous repeated gruesome jabs.

As she fell down, reports state an orc child the Grand Master warned repeatitly of its conduct has kicked her blade across the room in anger, and stomped down upon the near dead woman. No official statement has been given by the church to clear up any of these rumors, but the high presence of kelemvorite guards letting no one but the construction workers and those of their own faith inside, are a worrisome sign. How the kelemvorite faith will react to this is unknown.

::

A single short notice is hanged up in front of the Chapel of Hoar.

Quote:

Blessed is she who shepherds the dead through the valley of darkness, for she is truly her brother's keeper, and the finder of lost souls. And we will strike down with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy our sister. They will know the name of our Lord, when we lay his vengeance upon them!

Zetsumei is seen helping her brothers and sisters keep the Cathedral on lock down and, on occasion speaking with members of the Hoarite church in whispers.

Zetsumei would come in and out of the Cathedral throughout the days as well. She never leaves the city of Nes'ek, unless sent by the Church. She's seen in her black monk robes, with her helmet, heavily enchanted gloves and cloak on at all times, ready to strike down any who dare disobey or threaten her Church.

A new face can be seen in Nes'ek.

The soft spoken durpari can be seen praying in the Temple of Lathander every dawn, always catching the first rays of the rising sun before she begins her day in the town square. She takes her time to help the commoners carry their water jars or children to their homes as she listens to their tales - life stories, joys, struggles, etc.

Some of the commoners to whom she have spoken with, would swear, if asked about the red haired durpari, that she is Parisa Aza, one of the most sincere and honest person they have ever met. Others would call her a naive foreigner, blatantly distrusting of her immediate friendlyness.

Parisa was an orphan in Vaelan who was taken in and raised by Dawnbringers, there she grew up and have come to dedicate her life to Lathander. Her natural talent in martial combat led her to the path of a champion - defending the faith and the people.

Parisa's dedication and good works earned her a distinction early on in Vaelan. This inevitably gets her inducted in to the Order of the Aster - a militaristic organization that serves Lathander. The commanders of this holy order has assigned her to be stationed in Nes'ek; and so, Parisa Aza left her hometown of Vaelan to go to Khem and serve the Temple of Lathander in Nes'ek.

Edited by Kjetta: Don't dictate how the commoners feel about your PC, please.

A more common figure, recently, perching on the roof of the Shrine of Assuran, is a white-blonde Tuigan woman, in partial fullplate, watching the comings and goings below. A scimitar is at her side, and as often as not, though she's young, she looks battle-weary, ready to drop.

The Eternal Order of Kelemvor; Guardians of the Martyr-Saint.
------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: To serve the people through the will of lord Kelemvor.

The Blessed Church of the Judge of the Dead hereby wishes to make clear it sees it as its duty to care for all the people of Nes'ek, all those who seek refuge from the 3rd Empire of Mulhorand and those whom seek to escape bonds of slavery. We shall not hide that we shall continue to have open channels with the followers of the Mulhorandi Pantheon to keep the lands stable and to ensure we will do all for our people, however we will not ever compromise our duty to the people of Khem. No propaganda will be tolerated by the kelemvorite faith in our lands. The mulhorandi faiths are not tolerated to preach their doctrins in the township. And any such happenings will be brought to the attention of Dawnmaster Si'neela.

Those who follow the true lord of the dead shall be rewarded for their faith and those who stay true to the teachings of the Morning Lord will have our unrelenting support. Hence, the blessed Church of Kelemvor shall work with the people and aid the Church of the Morninglord when ever it can to preserve Nes'ek as the pure gem it is. Any issues of concern by whichever member of the community will be presented to her blessedness, the Grand Master and they will be tended to. We serve the Judge of the Dead, and hence we are here to serve his loyal followers. The Church of Lathander and the people loyal to the true lords are promised our aid. And hence we also wish to make clear, the lands of Khem are our priority, and we shall not risk its stability through overextending our resources into distant lands.

The will of lord Kelemvor be done,
The Blessed Church of the Judge of the Dead
---------------

The Eternal Order of Kelemvor; Guardians of the Martyr-Saint.
------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: To serve the people through the will of lord Kelemvor.

As we promised before, the faith of Kelemvor will not disregard the lifes of the people of Nes'ek. The dark shadow, our foe, which has slaughtered many of our faith is now returning to attempt to hunt down the last of our faith who escaped. I have spoken to Chaplain Luthor, and he expressed his wish for the township to be spared from this conflict, and hence has taken the burden of this descion from your shoulders. We will not draw Nes'ek into this conflict. It is our battle, and there is no obligiation to stand with us and we shall not think lesser for wishing to remain in the peace that was here before us.

The faith is splitting on this day. Most of our cleregy will remain here to persue their non-militaristic duties. Others, including myself and those of the Eternal Order, will evoke an indefinet exile upon ourselves from our sacred halls and Khem to ensure our foe has no excuse to inflict harm upon the people of these lands. We will either return to be buried in our halls, in victory and joy to be permitted to return home or if our foe dares to bring forth its injustice upon you regardless of our depature.

The will of lord Kelemvor be done,
S. Fryar
Grand Master of the Eternal Order
---------------

As the sun is at it's highest point in the sky, and as the desert day reaches it's scorching climax, an old, bald cleric wearily stumbles into Ne'sek, his attitude bitter and his pale skin damp from travel

After refreshing himself at the Oasis, he can be seen sternly wandering around the town for a while, hands behind his back, observing the townfolk with interest. Upon seeing a priestess of Lathander, he stops her, enquiring about where he might be able to deliver his thanks and prayers to Lord Kelemvor. He introduces himself as Benedict Hale, a faithful travelling cleric of Kelemvor, recently arrived from a nasty outbreak of a noxious disease in Tethyr. He is directed the the Cathedral of the Martyr-Saint, which he makes no delay in entering.

He then spends the rest of the day inside the Cathedral, in undisturbed, silent prayer. He prays first his graititude to the Judge of the Dead for his travels granting him success, then his acknowledgement to all those he had witnessed and known to have passed into the judgement of the lord since his journey began.

Those who find themselves in the the city limits and nearing the cliffs on the outskirts might seem to find an odd number of large pig-hoof prints.

They might also see a young man who carries himself with pride, though limps as an old man followed by an enormous wild boar about 7-8 feet at the shoulder.

He never shows his face, being kept hidden by a cloak and shawl against the ever present sand, sun, and wind.

If called out to, he ignores the call and would tap the boar twice and jump onto its back and ride away at amazing speed.

It seems he circles around back to the Shrine of Assuran most frequently.

A halfelf, clad in golden platemail covered by ankle length Rose-tinged robes, with a brightly burnished maple-hued Longbow is seen around the Grand Temple of Lathander in recent weeks. He appears to have rented a small house in town along with another similarly garbed human. The halfelf comes and goes, sometimes staying several days then vanishing for several more. He enters the Temple early in the day for prayers when he is present.

::

Under the cloak of night three figures silently step outside the Cathedral of the Martyr-Saint. Two of them clearly of the knight-templar, their blades sheathed and their large shields bound to their back. The third shape is a rather tall female figure dressed in armor and tunic of the Order.

They appear to be making their way north. As to why the Grand Master is leaving or to where, nothing is said, however the order for these days rests in the hands of the Lord Inquisitor Richard Manson.

::

::

Three members of the Eternal Order were seen speaking to a massive and truely intimidating knight of bane before their temple at the small waterfall. The exchange was seemingly not on the most friendly of terms, as not soon afterwards the banite was escorted out towards the portal of Wiltun, while the commoners were asked to move into their homes to ensure their safety.

For those who questioned the kelemvorites afterwards, a simple statement was given. "Even if the Church of Bane currently accept the laws of lord Kelemvor, we will not tolerate them in Khem. We are allies of the faith of lathander and hoar, and these lands will not accept their kind. Tyranny shall have no part in the lifes of the people of this township and our moving here shall not mark a chance for them to gain a safe haven."

::

The young Oghmanyte Joon, by now a familiar sight in Nes'ek, was seen renting the house next to the chapel of Hoar. He's been speaking with some of the locals, explaining his intentions: to establish a chapel to Oghma, to run a small school for the Khemites, and to offer shelter to travellers. He's also told that this house will serve as headquarters to the Seekers, a group of unclear goals and member count.

A tall man can be seen from time to time passing through Khem, dressed in spotless enameled red armor with a snow white tabard. He stops from time to time to visit the bazaar and speak with the locals. Whenever he enters one of the temples he is respectful, removing his helmet to show the face of a grim looking scarred veteran.

Perhaps a few citizens stared, maybe a few would laugh, some might not care being used to crazy adventurers.

By the stature, a slightly short man walks through Ne'sek a few times in a given week. Each time he passes with a staff with yellow-lit ends on it from imbued magic. Each time he wears dark black pants and a black shirt with some orange deatils. Each time he wears an equally dark cape just adding to the rediculous layers in the hot day. But to trually epitomize insanity with the dark colors that draw in the hot desert heat; he wears an unpolishes solit metal helm with wings to cook his head in.

Each time he passes from Wiltun Portal to the next caravaner or merchant headed for Djedet that can be hired for a lift along.

::

The atmosphere around the Cathedral seems to change slightly. A squire wearing the heraldry of the Eternal Order and small woman garbed in the robes of the faithful soon depart to travel to the south of Khem, most likely Khalem. Additionally the patrols around the north and south of Nes'ek seem to increase. Meeting a traveling Knight-Templar in the fields of scorched sand either with a caravan or alone seems to become a less seldom sight.

::

* Amontep noticed their movement and wonder to himself what they would be doing. Perhaps a military training *He thinks to himself Or... they might be a little bored hiding too long under that desecrated place *He smiles sadistically* *Walking disguised as a local mulan, Amontep noticed their presence around Khalem. Perhaps I could use it in my favor. I'm pretty sure the mulan clergy wouldn't accept this... incursion into their lands. *Once more, an evil smile appears on his face, covered by a mask to protect him from the sand. Like a snake, he disappear behind some stones and builds in Khem*

::

A small arena is prepared in the plaza of Nes'ek, and in the midst the Grand Master herself stands. Her heavy plate mail has been replaced by simple chainmail and tunic. Those she spars with include the most skilled and capable Knight-Templar of the Eternal Order and Avengers of the Ecclesia of Assuran.

With each battle under the banners of her order, she rushes in with her battle cry, "Kelmvor wills it" and almost always stands victorious, even though she takes no breaks after each duel. Often standing above her fallen opponent without a single scratch on her. The reasons for this is clearly the rumored duel between the reknowned Captain of the Weave Knights, Vaelmith Starshower, and herself.

::

::

The man dressed in dark robes and a skull mask, who was holding a staff glowing with an infernal glow was speaking to visitors in the center of Nes'ek when suddenly five members of the Eternal Order surrounded him out of nowhere, their weapons drawn. Even though the man attempted to run, he was quickly subdued by the Order of Saint Elizabeth and dragged into the Cathedral, leaving a trail of blood which was covered up by the sand quickly.

::

A red haired Durpar is seen arriving in Nes'ek just as the sun rises from the East.

After stopping by the Temple of Lathander for a few moments, she dutifully returns outside and seems to be patrolling the town. Some of the commoners might remember her as Parisa Aza, the overly friendly Lathandrite knight.

Parisa spends most of her time around the Temple and in the market are. She sometimes patrols the roads outside of Nes'ek, trying to keep it safe from bandits, minotaurs, and other dangers. When she's in the market, she is seen talking and offering her help to the locals.

::

Inside the Cathedral of the Martyr saint

The sound of small feet, scurrying across the floor inside the dimly lit cathedral.
A shout of warning; the scramble of heavy metal armour and somebody running first upstairs, Then downstairs, Then upstairs again.

A nun's outcry; a Squire's plea for help; And Lord Templar William's laughter; as a little girl, Blue eyes, Hay coloured and stripy hair, rushes about the cathedral of the martyr.
She'd hiding under a bench; then perking up to wave towards William as he, In turn, dashes after her in a feeble attempt to catch her.

Even with the mighty knight's stamina; He cannot muster enough strength to keep up with this little doll; as she's nearly ten times faster, and not weighted down by a 50lbs Full plate, Yet all he can do is to smile; With his entire face as he playfully attempts to grab her once again.

-"Child...Child! Come here, Child... It's not the time for playing, C'-... Oh Kelemvor bless me."

She'd burst out in uncontrollable giggle; And scurry away under the benches to get out of his sight again. All william can hear is the little girl, giggling and with bruised knees creep under another set of benches to escape him.
William rolls his eyes;And clasps his arms behind his back and pretends to walk towards the altar; humming for himself. He can hear the distinct muffled laughter coming from behind him, but he ignores it, as he moves towards the altar with heavy and determined steps. Somebody quenches yet another hysterical giggle behind his back; and the sound of small feet scrambling across the floor.
William cant resist to take a sneak-peak over his shoulder; to ensure he's still followed, but then turns back towards the Altar with a serious look on his face, a look that doesn't really reach his eyes as they're squinted, like on somebody trying to hide a laughter as he kneels before it.

His right hand clasps the left forearm; and for a moment his thoughts wander off distantly, the missing left hand makes itself remembered during prayer, a tugging memory of loss and sacrifice... For this is all he can do; He cannot join his fingers in a solemn prayers no more, thus he must do the second best and hold onto his forearm. He was sure Kelemvor did not mind... But he solemnly missed it. They say you don't know what you have until you loose it, and in william's case it was his left hand.

-"OH!"

William yells out in surprise. He had not noticed the little girl sneaking up on him, as he knelt by the altar... he had been so occupied in his own thoughts, busy with memories, so she had been able to dash up behind him and throw herself around his neck, laughing hysterically, nearly falling over William in her hurry.
And for a moment he could do nothing but join in; as they both sat, awkwardly, in front of the Altar of Kelemvor, both shaking in uncontrollable laughter.
He wiped away a tear from her eyes; and stroke her hair, while she calmed down. Murmuring softly in her hair.

-"You're still going to have to take that bath...You can't go about wearing the rags you had as a slave.."

And by that, the chase was on again; The sound of small feet scurrying across the floor, a knight's plea for help as the girl dashes in under his chain-mail; A nun's outcry for respectful silence, and Lord Templar William Johnson resounding laughter.

*The War Knight camp has disbanded and gone, the Knights have disappered also, mixing into the local populace or simply leaving the region. Though Warlord Calin Katar can still be seen visiting the temple of Hoar occasionally and offering a slight prayer to the god of vengeance. His muttering can be heard in his prayers, though those respectful of worship would hopefully try not to listen, and he clearly speaks of old pledges against new gods.

His visits become more infrequent till he finally isn't seen for several months. Then recently he could be noted returning, offering that small prayer.*

::

In Nes'ek; About the marketplace

A man adjusts some straps at his backpack, dubble-checking the contents, and occasionally heading over to the various merchants to fill out what's missing in his pack. He's wearing a plain cloak, and underneath the hint of a breastplate adorned by a white raven perks forth.
Just beside him stands a frail girl, about eight, maybe nine years old, twirling her hair around a finger as she looks about the square with eyes huge out of curiosity, and an inexplicable fear of the various people striding around the square. She fidgets with her hair; and examines the people passing by, yet as soon as she meets in eye-contact, she lowers her gaze pretending to look elsewhere.
But she looks bored; and is slowly making herself further away from the man by her side; Supposedly her guardian, to investigate a tree or take a quick perk down a well by the Square.

The man, still focused on his own doings, doesn't notice as the girl struts off towards the Lathander temple, disappearing inside by the huge wooden doors. Before she goes out of sigh, she shoots a worried glance back over the shoulder, as if ensuring that the man is busy and doesn't see her.

--------------------
Nes'ek; Inside the Temple Of Lathander
--------------------

She twirled a curl on her hair by the index finger, looking about the dimly lit Temple with unrestrained curiosity. The many candles that were spread across the floor, and the high ceiling gave the impression to have entered a huge cave or so, Because the lights didn't reach up towards the ceiling, and made it dark and mysterious.
Hundreds of small candles crowded by the sides, leading up towards the altar itself, producing something that looked like a star-lit walking path up to the centre.

She laughed, a Mirthful laughter, that echoed about the temple and broke the resounding silence. Quenching another giggle, she bended down to touch one of the burning candles... Just as a pair of firm hands grasped her by the waist and heaved her up two-three feet up the air.
The girl's surprise was complete, and she squirmed and twisted herself to get a look of who it was that ruined her adventure?

-"My little desert petal, Did i not tell you to stay by me?"

The girl went limp; and looked over her shoulder into the eyes of the man whom had lifted her away from the beautiful fire, and her lip pouted and trembled.

-"But whyyyyyy Papa.. I Neeeever get to do aaaaanything alone... You are so unfair. Leave me alone!"

She whined, and gave the man, Her father, a stern expression to clearly indicate her disappointment by his arrival.
Her father; William Johnsson, merely smiled back, and gave her a quick nudge by the left ribs, causing the little brat to shake in uncontrollable giggle, before he put her down and lead her outside to the marketplace. There were much to do, and much to buy before they were ready.

::

::Gill returns to Nes'ek after much time in the Desert and Djedet, his posture less than perfect, slouched over, seeming that his morale is shot, and his mood is unpleasent.... He purchases some water and date wine from the vendor and walks into the Cathedral of the Martyr-Saint::

Two Knights are seen recently bringing in the unconcious body of Mathan Wayne. One knight is the size of a child, the other a man with angelic wings.

The take the Velsharan into the Cathedral. Not ten minutes later an enormous explosion is heard, much like the sound of a hellball. The tiny knight leaves the temple with the charred, smoking corpse of the Velsharan and it is buried.

Moments later a female drow approaches the small Templar. They hug and enter the Cathedral, and that would seem the end of that.

...OR IS IT!?

::

In Nes'ek; About the Marketplace

William was an old man today.
He knew this, Thus in comparison with the little battery that jolted around his feet, He was near ancient.

This little Desert flower, That flourished despite the harsh climate and the near starving environment, He could not understand.
She had been such a weak spirit as he bought her, that he had seen no hope in the end of the tunnel, But today she were like a spirit wisp, dancing in the basking sun and making pirouettes around him.

Williams forehead wrinkled in thoughts, and he sat down outside the temple of Lathander, to seek cover from the overwhelming sun. He watched her, as she skipped about with cherry blossoms on her cheeks and a laughter that forced his lips into a smile.
Oh the joy of children, their sweet innocence and naive understanding of the world's marvels truly made him mesmerized. He could listen for hours to his daughters explanations of life and her prompt declarations of her views.

William suddenly felt a sting of sadness. Thus he knew, that this little girl would soon grow up, and realise how the world was shaped and witness it's atrocities first hand, she would cry rivers of tears and ask him why life was as it were... So unfair and so unforgiving.
And William wept, Thus he knew no answer, No response for the grim events that unfolded in the world.
He knew that he could only comfort her for the time being.

He buried his face in the palms of his hands; as he sat on the Temple stairs, and he remembered all those horrific days as a knight of Kelemvor; All those fights for no hope, Those bitter battles of light extinguished and the dreadful horror that was the other side.
And as the first rays of sunshine at dawning; His daughter was suddenly there. She had seen him shiver in the warm winds and crept up to her father, Anxious that something was wrong.
Quietly, And patiently, she bend away his hands and crawled up in his lap until she were sitting close, hands around his neck, whispering in his hear.

-"Pa... Don't cry, I love you... And you love me, And we will always be together, No matter what happens... So don't you worry?" She whispered in his ear.

And William took heart; lifted his loincloth to wipe away a salty tear, giving her a saddened smile. This little girl had a power stronger than anything he had encountered, More powerful than the mightiest cleric or warrior of the faith.
She had the willpower to melt a heart of stone.

-"My rose, My little Eleanor... My heart is yours, Always and forever. And ...We will always be together, Forever and ever...You and me in paradise." He murmured into her hair.

The girl clutched her arms tighter around her fathers neck and buried her face into it, then quickly let go to continue her merry game on the street. She twirled about, and made the most elegant pirouettes on the paved street, smiling brightly towards her father.

And he smiled back; And knew that it was not the last time he would lie to her...Lord Kelemvor Waited for them both.

::

// Here's something for those that want some Atmosphere
Click this link; And run it in the background

[IC] Nes'ek Life

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