Post by The Smith on Apr 8, 2008 22:10:51 GMT -5
Brandon walked through the gates of Duskendale. He wore only the bare minimum of clothing as the cold did not affect him anymore. He had brought his harp and his sword with him the rest was outside the gates. People had gathered around to watch him, thinking him stark raving mad, and he supposed he was. Some of the snow melted in his hair and around his feet. The gawkers stared in wonder. He then proceeded to the town square and walked to the tree there. He cut his palms and smeared blood on the trunk in a thin line around the tree. “Do I even know what I’m doing,” he thought.
The town square had been filled with people, and the remaining red priests had marched down from the fort. “What do you think you are doing!” the leader shrieked. Brandon said a few words in High Valyrian “Do you dare question me, red lizard!?” he let his sword, Quickstrike flare up, and the priest backed away. “Fire itself speaks through me” he said in Quartheen. “And it knows no bound of tounges!” he continued in Braavosi. The leader paled slightly and walked a dozen steps backwards. Brandon turned and looked at the villagers. “I shall require two goats and some rope” he said in Westerosi. Two men ran to get them.
Brandon hanged the goats up in the tree and slashed their throats with his burning sword. The air smelled of blood and burnt fur. Blood pooled around the tree and in the snow. He sat cross-legged in the snow that soon turned to water around him he muttered a few choice words in High Valyrian of no particular meaning it was more for the effect than anything else. “Does one of the priests wish to come closer to our god,” he said. The oldest of the three stepped forward, he was frail and sickly but his eyes burnt with fervor. “There’s not much left of me, but use me as you will,” he rasped. Brandon nodded and directed him to the tree. “Rh’llor embraces you in warmth old man,” he said and drow the point of his sword through the mans heart. “What I do for family,” he thought sadly. Some gasped and some shrieked. The two red priests turned if possible even paler.
As the sword impaled the heart it took on an even brighter flame. The blood flowing from the man turned white hot and as it joined the blood pooled on the ground the tree started to burn. Brandon sat down once again and played his harp. The strings caught fire and the notes turned to a heavenly tone. “Listen to the Song of Fire!” he yelled as the music grew louder with the flames. The fire crept to the upper most branches of the trees leaving the bottom charred. The fire branched as the tree did and soon the fire was out. The skeleton of the old man and the goats had turned to ash and blew with the next wind gust.
“The Lord has spoken! As the faith converged here in Duskendale it must branch out like the fire on the tree. When the winter comes it can’t just be one beacon of light but many to ward of the dark. For with the dark come terrors. We are in the midst of winter, and the power of the Great Other grows larger. Spread the faith so that all of humanity might live, bring no violence as that will make us weaker when the Enemy attacks and make reports of all the unsavoury things that happens in your travels so that we might root them out. Duskendale must be returned to its rightful ruler as the tree once again must grow anew.
He saw the two priests on their knees weeping. “R’hllor, come to us in our darkness,” he called “cast your light upon us! “For the night is dark and full of terrors!” the crowd shouted. “Spread the light of the Lord throughout the seven kingdoms and abroad!”. The priests stood up shaken and left the town to spread the word.
Result:
The Red priests are driven out of Duskendale, and is returned to its rightful owner
Brandon increase mystery of fire and sound to noteworthy
Brandon increase persuasion to expert
The town square had been filled with people, and the remaining red priests had marched down from the fort. “What do you think you are doing!” the leader shrieked. Brandon said a few words in High Valyrian “Do you dare question me, red lizard!?” he let his sword, Quickstrike flare up, and the priest backed away. “Fire itself speaks through me” he said in Quartheen. “And it knows no bound of tounges!” he continued in Braavosi. The leader paled slightly and walked a dozen steps backwards. Brandon turned and looked at the villagers. “I shall require two goats and some rope” he said in Westerosi. Two men ran to get them.
Brandon hanged the goats up in the tree and slashed their throats with his burning sword. The air smelled of blood and burnt fur. Blood pooled around the tree and in the snow. He sat cross-legged in the snow that soon turned to water around him he muttered a few choice words in High Valyrian of no particular meaning it was more for the effect than anything else. “Does one of the priests wish to come closer to our god,” he said. The oldest of the three stepped forward, he was frail and sickly but his eyes burnt with fervor. “There’s not much left of me, but use me as you will,” he rasped. Brandon nodded and directed him to the tree. “Rh’llor embraces you in warmth old man,” he said and drow the point of his sword through the mans heart. “What I do for family,” he thought sadly. Some gasped and some shrieked. The two red priests turned if possible even paler.
As the sword impaled the heart it took on an even brighter flame. The blood flowing from the man turned white hot and as it joined the blood pooled on the ground the tree started to burn. Brandon sat down once again and played his harp. The strings caught fire and the notes turned to a heavenly tone. “Listen to the Song of Fire!” he yelled as the music grew louder with the flames. The fire crept to the upper most branches of the trees leaving the bottom charred. The fire branched as the tree did and soon the fire was out. The skeleton of the old man and the goats had turned to ash and blew with the next wind gust.
“The Lord has spoken! As the faith converged here in Duskendale it must branch out like the fire on the tree. When the winter comes it can’t just be one beacon of light but many to ward of the dark. For with the dark come terrors. We are in the midst of winter, and the power of the Great Other grows larger. Spread the faith so that all of humanity might live, bring no violence as that will make us weaker when the Enemy attacks and make reports of all the unsavoury things that happens in your travels so that we might root them out. Duskendale must be returned to its rightful ruler as the tree once again must grow anew.
He saw the two priests on their knees weeping. “R’hllor, come to us in our darkness,” he called “cast your light upon us! “For the night is dark and full of terrors!” the crowd shouted. “Spread the light of the Lord throughout the seven kingdoms and abroad!”. The priests stood up shaken and left the town to spread the word.
Result:
The Red priests are driven out of Duskendale, and is returned to its rightful owner
Brandon increase mystery of fire and sound to noteworthy
Brandon increase persuasion to expert
Hope you all are well and happy.