Stepping in from the rain-soaked night of Baldur's Gate, a man clad in worn full plate armor and bearing the holy symbol of the Red Knight around his neck strides into the Church of the Lord of Battle and stands before the Rauthat. The older man, his face worn with the scars of many battles and the damage of the sun, slams his hand to his heart in salute, chin held high.
"Praise Tempus, Rauthat. I have come to bolster the Faith."
Last edited by GaretAthran on Tue Apr 07, 2020 8:08 am, edited 2 times in total.
Rumor spreads that for the first time in a long time, the Church of Tempus will send a representative to attend the Duchal Court, a task that many of the Faith have found less than savory given their pension to eschew anything that does not directly pertain to the thrill of battle. Many could possibly begin to wonder, why now? Where was their presence in the Court in the Devil War? And what does this mean for current affairs if the priests of the Lord of Battle are suddenly taking an interest?
Two scrolls are nailed to the doors of the Church of Tempus:
"War is won by those with the best planning, strategy, and tactics, regardless of the apparent odds. Any fool can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory with fortune's aid. Only a master strategist can ensure lasting victory. War is a series of battles. Losing a battle does not necessarily indicate the war is lost. Seek out your opponent's weaknesses and recognize your own; avoid an opponent's strengths and play to your own. Only by focusing one's own strengths on the opponent's vulnerabilities can triumph be ensured. In times of war prepare for peace; in times of peace prepare for war. Seek out your enemy's enemies as allies, and be prepared to compromise. Life is an endless series of skirmishes with occasional outbreaks of war. Be ready -- and have a contingency plan."
Tempus does not win battles, he helps the deserving warrior win battles. War is fair in that it oppresses and aids all equally and that in any given battle, a mortal may be slain or become a great leader among his or her companions. It should not be feared, but seen as natural force, a human force, the storm that civilization brings by its very existence. Arm all for whom battle is needful, even foes. Retreat from hopeless fights but never avoid battle. Slay one foe decisively and halt a battle quickly rather then rely upon slow attrition or the senseless dragging on of hostilities. Remember the dead that fell before you. Defend what you believe in, lest it be swept away. Disparage no foe and respect all, for valor blazes in all regardless of age, sex, or race. Tempus looks with favor upon those that acquit themselves honorably in battle without resorting to such craven tricks as destroying homes, family, or livestock when a foe is away or attacking from the rear (except when such an attack is launched by a small band against foes of vastly superior numbers). Consider the consequences of the violence of war, and do not wage war recklessly. The smooth-tongued and fleet of feet that avoid all strife and never defend their beliefs wreak more harm than the most energetic tyrant, raider, or horde leader.
A courier from the Duchal Palace arrives during the early morning, sparking the Lord Knight Commandante into a flurry of activities as a flurry of other missives are dispersed to various places across the city and beyond.
*Shortly after an evening's meal time, a large, green-cloaked man enters the Temple of Tempus, stopping to give his respects at the alter*
*Derik turns to look at the older man, Damar, who heads the temple.* My apologies for missing the last portion of the war. I had to do some traveling, and when I was not doing that, there was no one else to protect those near my home from raiders and bandits, or the refugees coming through. I had battles, just not the grand ones. I will try to be more present.
*The large warrior finishes his prayers, adjusts the chainmail scabbard of the golden hilted weapon with the Tempus symbol on the crossguard that is slung across his back, and strolls out*
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red) Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor Braithreachas Leomhainn "My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
A lady knight known in the area as Kamine Waynn is seen entering the temple. After offering her prayers to Tempus and the Red Knight she is seen conversing with the Ruathat for a while.
A berserker of Holgerstead, Wulfrik Icewalker, has presented himself at the Temple of 'Tempos' expressing his claim toward the position of Warlyon. He will be meeting with the Ruathat within the next few days to be judged and, he hopes, to offer his vows.
A woman some may know as Sigrid Grímsdottir, makes her way to the temple of Tempus under the cover of night. Draped in her Ruathen styled dress of a cornflowerblue with gilded stitchings and carrying a sealed cylinder shaped scroll case.
She approaches the Ruathat of Tempus and bows her head respectfully before presenting the scroll case and her statement.
//PM sent
Shandril Brightmantle "Life is but a mystery to revel in, let the stars guide you through the mist."
In the small hours of the morning, a woman in gleaming plate makes her way through the back alleys of the East Gate District. Here, hidden away among the other buildings, hidden like an uncomfortable truth to the rest of the city, lies the Church of Tempus. The Church of War.
Looking at the building makes her sick, chapel hidden from the main thoroughfares of the city, with no regard to its readiness for war. No defenses. No fortification. Not even a guard at the door. It makes her want to spit in rage. How they come running when there are foes to fight, but when the dust is cleared the people here are more than happy to hide the clergy of the Lord of Battle away. The only priests left are men too wounded to do battle and too wary to engage in the politics that mire the Gate.
The knight pushes through the door, the morning mists curling about her mailed boots as she marches down the center isle of the chapel to stand before the shrine to Tempus, looking up into the face of the warrior god's likeness that looms above her. It is a face that varies from temple to temple, but in many ways they are all the same. They are all Tempus.
Even the Ruathat still sleeps at this hour, and that is fine; Kamine Waynn does not need his aid today. She seeks guidance from powers higher than men.
Kneeling before the Lord of Battles, Dame Kamine Waynn offers a prayer of supplication and takes a moment to contemplate the tenents of Tempus before standing once again. Despite her reverence, even Tempus is not who she seeks.
In the corner of the chapel, tucked back beside the front door, stands a statue of a woman clad, much like the knight, in full plate armor, longsword in hand. The Red Knight. Kamine Waynn walks with purpose back to the shrine, removing the axe from her belt and setting its head against the floor. Once more the knight takes a knee, eyes closed in prayer.
"Lady," the knight begins in hushed tones, beseeching, "my faith in you and in myself has wavered in these last few years. I have allowed fear to enter my heart and cloud my mind too many times. I know not if it was your disfavor or my lack of courage that lead to my fall from your grace, but… I seek now your forgiveness, Lady.
"For too long I have allowed myself to be idle in my devotions, in my faith. But I will not let this stand any longer. To you, My Lady, I swear myself once again."
The knight grips the handle of her axe, her brow furrowed in a concentrated effort of will as she begins to speak her new oath.
"I, Kamine Waynn, take this code as my own.
My heart shall know only virtue. My blade shall defend the helpless. My strength shall uphold the weak. My Word shall speak only truth. I swear myself to valor. My might shall undo the wicked."
After her words ring out from her lips, the chapel seems quiet, without even the echo of her oath reverberating from the walls, as if swallowed by the air itself. The silence pervades for what seems like an eternity to the knight as she kneels before the shrine, eyes cast to the flagstones.
She takes a breath, slowly, calming the feeling of loneliness in her heart as she continues to kneel. For the next few hours, the knight continues her vigilance before the Lady, praying and contemplating the dogma of the Red Knight, repeating her oath at times like a kind of mantra as her prayer becomes something closer to meditation.
The red-haired knight makes regular pilgrimages to the Church, following the same ritual if kneeling first before the statue of the Lord of Battles and then beginning her longer devotions before the shrine of Tempus's exarch, the Red Knight. She repeats the oath again and again, asking for guidance and a way to prove her faith once more to the Lady of Strategy.
"Show me your will, Lady, and I will see it done..."
Again the knight kneels down before the Lady of Strategy, repeating her oath in the name of the Red Knight and pleading for her blessing and the chance to once more prove herself worthy.
Recently, a man in a shining armor seems to often go to the temple, leaving various offerings and making some short prayers to Tempus. Acolytes can hear a strong Cormyrean accent while praying and a Purple Dragons emblem on his shoulder.
Recently, a man in a shining armor seems to often go to the temple, leaving various offerings and making some short prayers to Tempus. Acolytes can hear a strong Cormyrean accent while praying and a Purple Dragons emblem on his shoulder.
The man would most likely encounter a woman of near-seven-feet of height with deep crimson hair, either in prayer in her full battle attire or assisting the Brothers of the Broken Blade in the maintainence of the meager chapel. She'd greet him respectfully, her accent thickly Cormyrean as well, apparently happy to see a fellow Dragon visiting the Temple.
