Marrra
03-22-2007, 04:40 AM
Her skin was even darker than usual, with muck and splatters of blood. The dust of shattered bones covered her armour, thickening the slime that had eaten away at the metal. The blacksmith would charge an arm and a leg to get this repaired again, but she could pay it. The coffers would be full of coin after today's adventures.
Rishkin let the armour clank to the floor of her room in the church and poured water into a bowl for washing. Attending first to her armour, then weapon and shield before herself, she then pulled a fresh robe over her head before kneeling in prayer. She needed to refresh her mind even more than her body before the rest of her day's duties, and had specific spells to request from the Flame.
***
It is dark in this corner of the tavern. If I sit quietly, most people don't even glance my way. I like that. I am not here for prominence, to be noticed. I do not need an audience. Just to make a difference. And I know I make a difference with what I do. Not just the adventuring, the fight against the evils. But this.
I see them come in, most often battered and bruised, bloodied up and exhausted from their adventures. I know their pain. I know how hard it can be, how it can sometimes feel like you can never do enough and it's all too hard. The trauma of having your spirit torn from your body and reawakened, leaving you drained. But you have to go on.
I cannot go with them, cannot help them all in their quests to fight back against the darker forces. So I do what I can. I pray.
I pray for the Flame to return their life energy, to renew and refresh them so they may continue at full strength. I pray that the Flame clear their minds and energise them, so they enter their battles prepared for the task of casting. Some have the misfortune of being cursed by dark magics, and the Flame lets me cleanse them of that evil.
And I know that my work is approved by the Silver Flame. Never have I asked such a question, but I know. Because when I sit there waiting to help those in need, praying for the ability, the energy, the devotion ... I can feel the power of the Flame recharging me. I feel its force filling me, swelling inside me, wanting to flow forth in aid.
That is my compensation for my task. The knowledge that I am doing right. I do it not for accolades, though the occassional thanks I get are more than enough, nor for the gifts a few have tried to give me in return. It costs me nothing, yet gives me so much. It gives me faith. And that is priceless.
Rishkin let the armour clank to the floor of her room in the church and poured water into a bowl for washing. Attending first to her armour, then weapon and shield before herself, she then pulled a fresh robe over her head before kneeling in prayer. She needed to refresh her mind even more than her body before the rest of her day's duties, and had specific spells to request from the Flame.
***
It is dark in this corner of the tavern. If I sit quietly, most people don't even glance my way. I like that. I am not here for prominence, to be noticed. I do not need an audience. Just to make a difference. And I know I make a difference with what I do. Not just the adventuring, the fight against the evils. But this.
I see them come in, most often battered and bruised, bloodied up and exhausted from their adventures. I know their pain. I know how hard it can be, how it can sometimes feel like you can never do enough and it's all too hard. The trauma of having your spirit torn from your body and reawakened, leaving you drained. But you have to go on.
I cannot go with them, cannot help them all in their quests to fight back against the darker forces. So I do what I can. I pray.
I pray for the Flame to return their life energy, to renew and refresh them so they may continue at full strength. I pray that the Flame clear their minds and energise them, so they enter their battles prepared for the task of casting. Some have the misfortune of being cursed by dark magics, and the Flame lets me cleanse them of that evil.
And I know that my work is approved by the Silver Flame. Never have I asked such a question, but I know. Because when I sit there waiting to help those in need, praying for the ability, the energy, the devotion ... I can feel the power of the Flame recharging me. I feel its force filling me, swelling inside me, wanting to flow forth in aid.
That is my compensation for my task. The knowledge that I am doing right. I do it not for accolades, though the occassional thanks I get are more than enough, nor for the gifts a few have tried to give me in return. It costs me nothing, yet gives me so much. It gives me faith. And that is priceless.