Dubhaine Family/Cathal/Roleplays/2009/May

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May 10th - Dark Citadel

Cathal lay deep in troubled dreams, wrapped in a makeshift blanket and jammed into the hollow of a mighty oak. In recent days he had pushed his body to the very limit, travelling the length and breadth of the war-torn wastes with his message of hope beyond hope, teaching hymns of courage and resistance in the face of unholy and unrelenting war.

The common folk responded warmly to his words wherever he travelled, even in the haunted woods of Helsera where no man held dominion beyond the reach of his sword and even the proud knights of Giblot dared not tarry their men at arms. He would stand in their midst, dressed in his simple travel-stained clothes, unarmed and fearless, and he would tell them of Alowca and the ruin which corruption brought upon her. He needed no tricks of oratory to claim their hearts, no clever promises of wealth and peace, for he spoke from the heart and in his voice the true power of the Gods was unleashed: the power to inspire.

He would reveal to them the scars he earned as warrior and general, telling the tale of that long march from Windaria on which he was shriven of his pride, and the people would touch them and marvel that one so young could have endured so much and yet still survived. And as he recounted the deeds of the warrior saints they would find courage in their own hearts to endure the never-ending war which blighted their hearths.

Sometimes when he finished his tale the people would offer him food but mostly they were too poor to spare a crust and he would share his own meagre rations with them, the rough bread and dried meats somehow always sufficing no matter the size of the company. And then he would say his farewells, leaving hope behind as he travelled ever onwards into the gathering storm.

And yet even as his words strengthened the people, they fell on barren ground amongst the nobility. What few there were who still held the Trinity uppermost in their hearts had either lost their own influence with the fall of Alowca, or else had betrayed their faith to gain power in foreign lands, and so it was that Cathal now found himself buried in the deep dark dreams of utter exhaustion. And as he slept he tossed and turned, his thoughts a tumult of unresolved futures.

"Cathal..."

There was a woman's voice, gentle as the wind soughing through the branches of the Bakker Woods, and yet carrying deep into the young prophet's troubled slumber. The darkness seemed to fade.

"Cathal Dubhaine..." the words seemed to rinse through his thoughts, sending black streamers receding into the furthest reaches of memory as that bright golden dawn flooded his inner consciousness.

"Who are you?" he spoke without lips, without flesh.

"Awake Cathal Dubhaine!" and he did. He was sitting amidst the tatters of his bedroll, a woman dressed in the simple black tunic and surplus of the Templars squatting opposite him.

"My Lady!" he recognised her without even studying her face or form, the Goddess who had plucked him from obscurity to be the messenger of the Trinity, and yet her immediacy was somehow more terrible and immediate than at any of her previous apparitions.

"The Black Wind will be unleashed Cathal, and none now can stand before it."

"Then I have failed?" in his mind's eye he was once more walking the blistered streets of Portion, the stench of carrion thick in his nostrils as he carefully trod between the bloated corpses.

"It was ever a choice for men to make, and if they have chosen unwisely it is not for want of good advice. Even as we speak my brother Alluran has laid his hand across this land and withdrawn his protection, for the Sanctuary stands no more in the Holy City and our Temple rests now in the heart of men," and as she spoke she placed the tips of her fingers against Cathal's chest, and he knew in that instant the true meaning of faith.

"I have done all that men of peace and reason may do, and yet it has not turned them from their hunger for death."

"They have chosen their path, now you must choose," and even as she uttered these words she seemed to fade from his sight, leaving them echoing on the dark, cold wind...