Shadow of the West - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Novnarwen · 04-21-2005, 08:55 AM

After the long conversation, Pelin had fallen back to sleep again. Tarkan on the other hand, had staid up. Rather uneasily, the Priest was walking around in the room, back and forth, muttering words of both prayer and despair. He couldn’t recall ever having been so insecure about something before. The feeling of being clueless and helpless had thus far been nothing but a distant feeling that had not dared touch him. Now, he felt it penetrating his mind, disturbing his thoughts and leaving him absolutely shaking with fear. Something had to be done; he knew that much, but what it was, he was still unsure of. How could he, a simple Priest, do anything now? The Orcs were swarming around in the city; a city that was beyond recognition. It had changed too much, and unfortunately for all of them, all of the changes had been for the worse! Ever since the Emissary had arrived, everything had gone wrong. The Queen’s death, he had to admit, was probably the greatest factor to why things had changed so drastically. Even though not a personal acquaintance of hers, he knew that nothing of this would have happened is she was alive. The accusations against the High priestess, the ruining of the Temples and the replacement of both Rae and Rhais were all in an odd way connected to the Emissary and his coming to Pasthia. It was particularly difficult though, to figure out what exactly had happened to the king. Was he only showing his true self, or was the Emissary responsible for driving the King to madness as well? It was obvious that the wild creatures roaming in the streets was also an effect of the cold-blooded murder of her Highness. Oh yes, he knew. It was a murder. When speculating in who the killer had been, he was disgusted by thinking that it was probably someone the king had hired, if it was not his half-brother himself.

He bit his lip. The lack of sleep and the worries that hung over him as a dark cloud had certainly had a great affect on him. Outside the sun was finally up; its rays reaching for him through the closed windows. For a few months ago, the Priest would have departed from his apartments by now with his head held high, and in his own odd manner, he would have found great pleasure in the nice weather. Currently, however, the once so proud Priest sat only silently to himself, and sighed when remembering what had passed. How ironic everything was; a few months ago he had dreamed of the life ahead, where he would be High priest of the new Temple, but when finally being here, present in the life that long had awaited him, he longed for what already was gone.

“Did you sit up all night, Father?” It was Pelin who had awakened from his slumber. He clapped his hands together, as if eager. It was nevertheless obvious that he was dreading this day; what had Tarkan decided?

When replying, it seemed that he was at loss for words. His tongue denied him to let it out, and he felt as if swallowing what he had first intended to say. How could he, a Priest, who was supposed to be a councillor, deny Pelin the decision he was waiting for, which ultimately was the answer to their troubles?

“Pelin, my good friend,” he started at last, urging Pelin to come sit next to himself before continuing. “It is true. I sat up all night…You have been such a good friend to me, even when I condemned you and acted unreasonably toward you. You have never deserved the treatment and the hard times I have given you, and I…. I, have never deserved your friendship.. and yet, you are here… You are here, and waiting for me to make a decision… when in truth, I’m not fit for that task… I cannot do it, because I don’t know what to do.” While talking, he looked down, studying the fabrics of the carpet that covered the stone floor. He felt ashamed, but he felt that it was the only thing he could do; for once he wasn’t telling lies or covering up his own feelings, he was talking from his true self that he had hid away for so many years. The feeling was indescribable; he felt neither good nor bad… just empty. Eying Pelin out of the corner of his eye, he started again:” I must talk to the priestess, but I don’t know how to… she is an escaped convict, and thus, I cannot approach her openly ...”

It was then that Pelin spoke. With lightening eyes, he calmed the Priest. “Leave this to me. I have an idea…” Tarkan opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing as Pelin rose hurriedly and aimed for the door. “Expect me back in a few hours. I promise that the news I’ll bring will be nothing but good. ”

Hearing his friend say this, he knew that Pelin had indeed forgiven him.

Feeling the strength and the steadfastness returning, two of the qualities that seemed to have gone missing the last couple of weeks, Tarkan eyed at last hope in the heavy darkness that was suppressing Pasthia into nothingness.

04-21-2005, 08:55 AM	#22
Novnarwen Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: In your mouth... Eeeew, by the way. :P Posts: 517	Tarkan After the long conversation, Pelin had fallen back to sleep again. Tarkan on the other hand, had staid up. Rather uneasily, the Priest was walking around in the room, back and forth, muttering words of both prayer and despair. He couldn’t recall ever having been so insecure about something before. The feeling of being clueless and helpless had thus far been nothing but a distant feeling that had not dared touch him. Now, he felt it penetrating his mind, disturbing his thoughts and leaving him absolutely shaking with fear. Something had to be done; he knew that much, but what it was, he was still unsure of. How could he, a simple Priest, do anything now? The Orcs were swarming around in the city; a city that was beyond recognition. It had changed too much, and unfortunately for all of them, all of the changes had been for the worse! Ever since the Emissary had arrived, everything had gone wrong. The Queen’s death, he had to admit, was probably the greatest factor to why things had changed so drastically. Even though not a personal acquaintance of hers, he knew that nothing of this would have happened is she was alive. The accusations against the High priestess, the ruining of the Temples and the replacement of both Rae and Rhais were all in an odd way connected to the Emissary and his coming to Pasthia. It was particularly difficult though, to figure out what exactly had happened to the king. Was he only showing his true self, or was the Emissary responsible for driving the King to madness as well? It was obvious that the wild creatures roaming in the streets was also an effect of the cold-blooded murder of her Highness. Oh yes, he knew. It was a murder. When speculating in who the killer had been, he was disgusted by thinking that it was probably someone the king had hired, if it was not his half-brother himself. He bit his lip. The lack of sleep and the worries that hung over him as a dark cloud had certainly had a great affect on him. Outside the sun was finally up; its rays reaching for him through the closed windows. For a few months ago, the Priest would have departed from his apartments by now with his head held high, and in his own odd manner, he would have found great pleasure in the nice weather. Currently, however, the once so proud Priest sat only silently to himself, and sighed when remembering what had passed. How ironic everything was; a few months ago he had dreamed of the life ahead, where he would be High priest of the new Temple, but when finally being here, present in the life that long had awaited him, he longed for what already was gone. “Did you sit up all night, Father?” It was Pelin who had awakened from his slumber. He clapped his hands together, as if eager. It was nevertheless obvious that he was dreading this day; what had Tarkan decided? When replying, it seemed that he was at loss for words. His tongue denied him to let it out, and he felt as if swallowing what he had first intended to say. How could he, a Priest, who was supposed to be a councillor, deny Pelin the decision he was waiting for, which ultimately was the answer to their troubles? “Pelin, my good friend,” he started at last, urging Pelin to come sit next to himself before continuing. “It is true. I sat up all night…You have been such a good friend to me, even when I condemned you and acted unreasonably toward you. You have never deserved the treatment and the hard times I have given you, and I…. I, have never deserved your friendship.. and yet, you are here… You are here, and waiting for me to make a decision… when in truth, I’m not fit for that task… I cannot do it, because I don’t know what to do.” While talking, he looked down, studying the fabrics of the carpet that covered the stone floor. He felt ashamed, but he felt that it was the only thing he could do; for once he wasn’t telling lies or covering up his own feelings, he was talking from his true self that he had hid away for so many years. The feeling was indescribable; he felt neither good nor bad… just empty. Eying Pelin out of the corner of his eye, he started again:” I must talk to the priestess, but I don’t know how to… she is an escaped convict, and thus, I cannot approach her openly ...” It was then that Pelin spoke. With lightening eyes, he calmed the Priest. “Leave this to me. I have an idea…” Tarkan opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing as Pelin rose hurriedly and aimed for the door. “Expect me back in a few hours. I promise that the news I’ll bring will be nothing but good. ” Hearing his friend say this, he knew that Pelin had indeed forgiven him. Feeling the strength and the steadfastness returning, two of the qualities that seemed to have gone missing the last couple of weeks, Tarkan eyed at last hope in the heavy darkness that was suppressing Pasthia into nothingness.