A Paladin's Heart

[Varen_Tai]

Manar sat outside, the bright spring sun alternating between bright glare and muted glow as the clouds passed by, carried by the strong breeze. It gusted again, bringing to her nose the scent of the flowers growing in the gardens in front of the Temple of the Morninglord in Waterdeep. It had been an unusual day so far, so unusual that her mind was still in somewhat a state of shock.

It had all began with the summons. Manar had not even been back for 15 minutes when a breathless acolyte rushed up to her and blurted out, “Lady Ryanelle! Master Kom needs to see you right away!” Without even getting a chance to finish brushing the worst of the travel dust off of her, she was pushed into the sparring grounds where Master Kom, the head of her Order at this monastery was teaching some of the younger recruits the finer points of bashing things with a warhammer.

The dwarf told the recruits to continue their practicing when he saw her enter, and he strode as fast as any dwarf can over to her. She was quite a bit taller than he was, obviously, as she was tall even for a human. At 6’1”, she had always felt awkward around Kom, and today was no exception.

“Manar! I wasn’t expecting you for another week, so when I got the messenger from the Morninglord’s Dawn requesting you to come right away to him today at Waterdeep, I shook my head, wondering what I was going to tell him, but lo and behold! Here you are, early!”

Her thoughts raced, not hearing anything beyond the Morninglord’s Dawn requesting her. What would His Grace Balthor want of her?

Somehow, she found herself on her mount once again, not even unpacked or cleaned up, riding hard for Waterdeep. It was a half day’s travel there, and her creative mind found a million reasons why such an important person would like to see her, but she admitted to herself as she rode up into the courtyard of the temple itself that none of her ideas had any ring of truth and that she was walking into an utter, total surprise.

She was ushered into the great hall, travel stains and all, and she became acutely aware of how she smelled. In her desire to come home, she had skipped bathing the day before, imagining that she would have plenty of time to clean up once she reached the monastery that served as the base of operations for her and many others of her order. The Morninglord’s Dawn, His Grace Balthor rose from his seat, smiled, and immediately dismissed his attendants. He was an older human, short grey hair, a thin, pronounced nose, deep-set brown eyes, brown skin, a very kindly face, and a palpable aura of good around him. When everyone but Manar and Balthor had exited, he walked down the steps of his dais, put his arm around her in a familiar way and beamed.

Stunned, not saying a word, Manar numbly allowed him to walk her over to a couple of simple wooden chairs on the side of the hall, where they both sat down, facing each other. He seemed to take no notice at all of her muddy boots and leggings, not to mention any scent.

He took her hand in a fatherly way and said, “Thank you for coming so quickly. My dear, I have a very special assignment for you. I know of your Order and the work you do. In order to be truly a tool in the Morninglord's hands, you have to be gifted in the ability to read others. We have some very special, and unusual, visitors arriving here over the next several days. I want you to greet them. Talk to them, get to know them, and observe them closely. Learn all you can without being obvious, and don't be overly kind or cruel in those observations. I want you to get as close to the truth as you can get. I prize honesty very highly. After some time, I will ask you for a report, and I want you to tell me what you have observed. The first is arriving within the hour. Do not worry - you will be able to pick them out immediately. Go out and wait for them as they arrive. I will give you some forewarning so that you can be out front. But you are to be our liaison, our representative at this temple, to these visitors. You will show them their rooms and assist any needs they might have until the purpose of their visit is accomplished. Take a few minutes to learn where the guest quarters are here since I know this temple is much larger than what you are used to."

He paused for a moment, still smiling warmly. "My dear, do you have any questions for me?"

She smiled and gave him an appropriate half-bow, her mind still whirling so much that she couldn’t formulate any appropriate questions. "It will be an honor, Radiance. Can you tell me the names of the visitors and perhaps give me some idea what they look like, so I can greet them appropriately? And.... is there anything in particular you want me to learn?"

He shook his head. “You will not need their names. You will pick them out very easily. As for learning, isn’t every experience a learning experience? Learn what you can and will from this. And you might want to hurry and bathe and change clothes. The first one will be arriving very quickly.” He stood and smiled. “Hurry, child. You don’t have much time”

She barely had time to bathe, change into some clothes from her saddlebags, and rush out front. Not quite out of breath, she sat, gathering her thoughts and scanning the trickle of people coming into the temple.

[Ravyn]

Manar sang to herself under her breath as she watched the road to the temple, trying to calm her nerves. He said I'd pick them out easily.... what kind of visitors would merit his attention? ...and why me? Whatever they are, I'd best make a good impression.... She carefully adjusted her sash, brushed a strand of still-damp golden hair out of her face for the umpteenth time, and narrowed her focus to two things: the road, and the next line of the ballad. The sun on her face felt like a personal blessing, and she smiled. Yes. I'll make this work.

[Varen_Tai]

All this only took a few minutes. Something glinted in a ray of sunlight escaping from the clouds, and she looked up. His Grace Balthor was right. This had to be one of the new arrivals.

Knights in full plate armor were not so rare that they attracted too much attention, but when they stood near 8 feet tall with a bull’s head and long black curving horns coming out of their heads, plenty of heads turned and gaped. Nearly anywhere but Waterdeep, a minotaur would be attacked on sight by any brave enough to face him, or at the very best, be treated with terrible fear and suspicion. Here, he was unusual enough to draw stares, but no overt hostility. The City of Splendors was jaded indeed. He hadn’t seen her yet, but she could tell that he was slowing down, looking around for some direction, someone to talk to.

[mdsoze]

Samson stood there, a bit awestruck at the city. He had grown up in a monastery, probably the best thing, considering his race, and he still was a bit surprised at the hustle and bustle of the city.

Samson looked about, seeing clear over the top of anyone in front of him. He was used to that, as he stood over seven and a half feet tall. His broad frame made him practically an island amid the sea of traffic in the city road, as people would break to move around him on either side. His full-plate armor and greatsword appeared to be in immaculate condition, as if even during the travel, he had found time to polish them. His reddish-brown fur was neatly trimmed to his head, providing a coat a little over an inch thick.

In his massive hands, he clutched a large piece of paper and a map. He had copied the map himself out of the temple Atlas before he left, so that he would be sure to reach Waterdeep.

He saw a woman standing in front of the temple, the only person in the city not moving other than himself. There, I'll ask her to make sure I haven't gotten lost. Carefully, he makes his way over to her, being careful not to step on any small children.

Pardon me, is this the temple of Lathander? I am a paladin of Tyr, and I was told to report to the temple of Lathander in Waterdeep by Grand Justiciar Callahan.

[Ravyn]

Even at six foot one, Manar felt very short as she looked up at him. She pulled her hands away from an unconscious attempt to straighten up her clothing, half-closed her emerald eyes to keep them from going as wide as a child's, and said, in a soft, musical voice, "Yes, this is the temple of Lathander; I am Manar Ryanelle, a paladin here, and His Grace Balthor has instructed me to be your guide and help you with whatever you may need." Heh... dressed for the occasion, and I still feel as if I'm a cadet in front of my teacher.... I wish Florian were here. Does he believe me, I wonder? She knew that in a lot of respects, she didn't look the part for a paladin--even when wearing the sky blue shirt with the sun-on-horizon emblem and the bandolier-style pale orange to blue sash that was only worn by members of her Order, the image she cut was more city girl coming to a nice event than holy warrior. An advantage at most times, but now.... particularly compared to this visitor....

But best not to think about that. Talk, Manar... if nothing else, imagine the stories he must have! "If you would like, sir, I can escort you to the guests' quarters.... but first, may I have your name?"

[mdsoze]

Samson listened to her story, and after she finished, waited a long moment to respond.

Interesting. There hadn't been many female paladins back at the monastery. But there hadn't been many minotaur paladins either.

As he looked down at her, ready to begin to speak, another wave of thoughts passed over him.

Don't look and talk down your snout at her. No one likes that. Be civilized! Especially to a lady.

Samson kneels, his armor making hardly any noise as he does so. His head is lowered down to the level of hers, and he makes eye contact with his large, yellow eyes. As he speaks, a careful observer would note that Samson is making every effort not to bare his fangs.

I am Samson. It is good to meet you, Lady Manar Ryanelle of Lathander. As far as the guest quarters, that would be excellent. If we have time before we are to be summoned before his Lordship, I would store my armor and seek the care of a good barber.

[Ravyn]

"Right this way, then, sir; there are enough people coming, or so I hear, that I think you will have plenty of time to freshen up." I love the irony of my having barely had enough time to freshen up, but.... Manar turned and beckoned him towards the stairs to the guest quarters. "The washrooms are over there, and the kitchen and dining hall are down that hall there," she explained, gesturing at the various locations as she led him toward their destination. "If you need something to eat and it's an odd time, don't worry; there's always someone in there, and they'll usually be able to whip something up for you. And if you have any questions and I'm not around, most people'll know where to find me--though I imagine I'll be pulling a lot of front-steps duty, so I shouldn't be too hard to locate." She smiles back and up at him as they round another corner. I shouldn't be the only one talking... it doesn't sound good. Besides, the stories... "I imagine you must have come quite a ways; where did you say you were from? What's it like?" Safe enough topic, right?

[mdsoze]

As they enter the temple, Samson's eyes widen. The temple at his monastery always brought a tear to his eye with its elegant simplicity and tempered style. This temple, in the city of splendors, filled him with awe. The various statues of saints and patrons were lined up on either side, and the grand architecture drew his eye to the main altar. He looked it over, but then focused on where Manar was leading him, and what she was saying.

More? There are more coming? How many? And why?

Samson follows her, but as he rounds each corner, he finds himself commiting its location to memory. He hadn't been in an unfamiliar structure in some time, and so he forgotten this instinct.

As the directions are listed, Samson nods, but he cannot stop himself when she mentions being served food at all hours.

SNORT

He composes himself again, and waits until she asks him a question. He rolls his head as if mulling his response, almost catching one of his horns on a corner.

I have walked for most of two weeks. I could have taken a boat, but the hike was good for my spirit. I am from a Monastery of Tyr, part of the Order of the Merciful Sword. My monastery is located in the Graypeak Mountains, Southeast of Llorkh.

And what of you, Lady Manar Ryanelle? Where are you from, and did you have to travel light in order to arrive in advance of me?

[Ravyn]

"Well, actually, it's more that I hadn't unpacked." She smiles. "I'd just got back from circuit--that's our training period, you know--imagine my surprise when they had an assignment for me before I'd even had time to recover my bearings. At least it meant I didn't have to worry about what I was carrying...." ...babbling is NOT a good idea right now, Manar, so STOP IT... She shrugs. "Besides, it's only half a day here from Brightwind."

[mdsoze]

Samson

Brightwind? Never been there. What's it like there?

Samson pauses for a moment.

You didn't seem overwhelmed by the temple here. Is your home temple as ... impressive?

Samson rolls his horns again. Manar might see a pattern reflected off of them if the light catches them at the exact right angle.

Tread carefully, you wish to be respectful and friendly, but don't scare the lady.

I find it best to have friends in new places, as I tend to draw attention. May I take the room next to yours?

[Ravyn]

"Not a problem at all. And if you need my help, you can always knock." Manar shrugged and looked up at Samson. "As to the not looking around in awe--I've been here before, a time or two; it's one of my mentor's favorite temples. And to be perfectly honest.... I'm faking it." She grinned conspiratorially, then laughed, gesturing around her with one hand. "After the first time you visit, you get funny looks if you're gaping around like a schoolgirl on holiday. They're awfully polite about hiding it, though. Besides, would you really trust me as a tour guide if I was stopping every few minutes to gush over the windows? Anyway.... Brightwind's a normal city--buildings, cobblestones, a shop on every street and a vendor at every corner. After you've seen one, you've seen 'em all. But... I've never visited any of the smaller monasteries.... what are they like?"

[mdsoze]

Well... the land is less flat. That's the most obvious difference.

My monastery is located next to the village of Amot, an area where farmers bring their goods to the river so that they might trade. The monastery itself is a large complex, I guess, but the buildings are each smaller. The Temple devoted to Tyr was only large enough to just fit everyone, and they had to make the door bigger after I grew.

Samson laughs, or at least, you think it's a laugh, a hearty belly laugh after saying that.

We had a lot of space. There was a small wood that the monastery owned, and we would train in it. There were separate buildings for most activities.

Samson stops, and blows a bit of air through between his sealed lips, making them buzz.

I guess that's about it. I would have the pleasure of your company for a while longer, but first, I must remove my armor and store my pack with supplies. So please excuse me, Lady Manar Ryanelle.

With that, Samson enters his quarters and removes his armor carefully. Afterwards, he will also change his vestments, and make note that the ones he had been wearing under his armor required cleaning.

After about 10 minutes, Samson emerges, wearing a very large blue vestment, and a white garment underneath. As he exits, you see why Samson wears his armor so frequently. The partially sheathed sword symbol that is supposed to appear on his right shoulder is actually about 8 inches too low, and the vestment appears very stretched over Samson's massive shoulders. This ill-fit is in stark contrast with the natural way the full plate armor rested on Samson's body. He exits, looking around to see if Manar is still there.

[Ravyn]

She is; she's leaning on the wall, eyes closed, singing to herself, but she looks up when she hears Samson's door open. "Feeling better? I know long trips always made me a bit uncomfortable." She smiles. "And would you prefer to hang around here, or be shown around a bit more? I'm fine either way, but I imagine your feet must be killing you."

[mdsoze]

Samson lifts up his hooves one at a time, displaying his silver horseshoes.

I just got these fitted a few months ago, and had my nail cut before I left. I am fine, I assure you.

I would like to see more of the temple, and perhaps the surrounding area. Let us walk about. The exercise will be good. Would you like my arm, Lady Manar?

Samson moves over to her, and stands beside, offering her his arm.

[Ravyn]

She smiles and takes it. "I hear there's an excellent trail out behind the temple... shall we go find out?" At the slightest hint of a nod, she starts walking towards the back door, the hand that isn't on his shoulder still gesturing animatedly with every word. "So.... how'd you end up being-- Ah, crud, what's their term for being brought into their order? You'd think by now I'd be able to keep them straight.... "--chosen?" She smiles. "I know how it works in my order, but I imagine a lot of the gods have different approaches, and I've always been curious--you can read about these things until your eyes bug out, but it never gives you the full picture."

[mdsoze]

Samson walks with Manar, and kind stares off into space.

Well, at least she didn't ask why I wasn't killed first..

He speaks slowly, in a measured, deep voice.

Well, Father Madigan suspected I had been chosen when I was found only a few weeks old, and that I hadn't already had evil planted in my soul.

After being found, I was brought to the monastery, as the Order of the Merciful Sword was unsure what do with me. They decided to save me, and so I was raised in the monastery, with the light and justice of Tyr all around me.

When I was 5, I decided that I would repay the debt I owed Tyr for saving me by pledging my life to him and his work. Shortly thereafter, I had something like a revelation, where I knew that I had to become a paladin, like the man who found me, and that set my path. There were ceremonies, and tests, and training, and education. But those are details you weren't interested in?

I've said a good bit about myself. Tell me a bit of your past. What sort of business have you done for your Church? How did you become a paladin?

[Ravyn]

Please tell me this isn't going to turn into one of those debates....

"Well.... I only just got out of training, actually." She laughs. "With me--well, we're the unlikely ones. The ones that blend in. You've probably heard of us--though I'm hoping you've heard of us as the Children of the Dawn's Cleansing Light rather than as 'Those crazies who think evil can be redeemed if given a good talking to.'" The humor goes partway out of her voice and is replaced with a slight hint of irritation, and she pushes the door open just slightly harder than is really necessary. "We're not too picky about who's brought in, since it's Lathander choosing us and not our own; I was a street performer, I had a friend who came in after several years as a chimney sweep, and we even had a lawyer tapped once. I suppose I was tapped because I already believed in and loved the idea of redemption; all I know was that I was in the middle of a performance one morning, felt someone's hand on my shoulder, looked back into the fountain behind me and saw an image of a man in the last tinted ray of sunrise. Then when I was done performing, I was approached by someone in the audience--nice fellow, laugh to his voice, went by Florian. Turns out he'd been sent there 'cause he had a feeling somebody would be tapped there--all I knew at the time was the first thing he asked me. 'Did you see him, too?'" For the last sentence, she drops her voice a little and adds a bit of a chuckle to it in an impression of the man in question.

"Once I was out of basic training, he took me on as a student, and I worked with him until I was sent here--mostly attempting to talk around people who haven't seen the light yet, since Florian and I were lucky enough not to end up in the middle of too many fights--we're supposed to turn here, I think." She guides Samson onto a path lined with trees and sorrel that leads up the mountain behind the temple.

[mdsoze]

Samson lets Manar turn him, and then he waits until they have moved on.

Well... I would say that I am evidence in the possibility for redemption in anyone. Everyone can be good. Some of my order might disagree, but... it is something I must believe.

Your order sounds most worthy. Working with other honorable people is always rewarding.

Looking up the mountain, Samson taps his foot on the ground.

Now this is a familiar site. But perhaps my hooves are more tired than I have thought. May we sit in the shadow of the mountain?

[Ravyn]

"Yes, let's." Manar drops to the ground in a patch of grass, setting into a odd sort of position which, though it can't be the most comfortable, doesn't look like it'll result in any extremities falling asleep, either, and starts absently braiding a few stems of grass. "Good to know you're a bit more flexible than a lot of the people out there; I've lost count of how many times someone from another order's taken one look at one of the signs of my order and either burst out laughing or started trying to tell me how wrong I am." She shrugs. "I imagine there's going to be a lot of waiting around in our near future if His Grace's talk of 'guests'-plural means anything.... what sorts of things do you usually do in your spare time? I might be able to show you where's best to do them."

[mdsoze]

Samson sits, and then leans back, stretching and arching his back a bit, and then resting his body weight on his arms.

Thank you for the offer, Lady Manar, but I assure you I will be most capable of entertaining myself during any delay. These sorts of waiting periods come up somewhat often in my duty, so I guess I've gotten used to dealing with them. I will try to keep my time in the city to a minimum. The people of the city may be perfectly comfortable with me, but I am still not comfortable in such crowded surroundings.

Samson breathes heavily out his snout to emphasize that point.

As far as you being right or wrong, I prefer not to think of it that way. Some paladins just have more left to learn than others. The key is understanding both how little and how much you know, and not being overwhelmed by either.

Samson chuckles.

At least, Father Madigan used to tell me that when I was having trouble with schooling. Speaking of which, you've mentioned scant little about your tutor. I would like to hear about him.

[Ravyn]

"Well.... he's Florian. Not your average paladin, but none of us are, so that's not saying much. He always told me 'Anyone can destroy evil; all it takes is a sharp enough sword. But to bring it back... now there is a challenge.' Then again, he's also a firm believer in the idea that only boring people let themselves and their friends get bored, which is why I asked." Manar leans back and looks up at the sky. "He's the kind of person who's fun to talk to because he always knows something unexpected. Always has a new story--or a new example for why our approach works. Usually one doubles as the other, and they're a treat to listen to either way."

[mdsoze]

Samson looks over at Manar as she leans back, but thinks better of lying down himself.

Well, my approach has always been to listen and think. And after you think, think some more. The right idea will occur to you eventually. And then, you set it in writing or set it in motion.

That way, you keep your purpose.

What is your approach?

[Ravyn]

"Mine's to talk my way through things--or sing through 'em, when there's nobody to talk to. Whether it's questions I can't answer or just being left with nothing to do. Old habits die hard, I guess, and sometimes I feel like there's someone else listening." Her hand swings out towards the horizon, and she smiles. "It's like it's sung in 'Starsong, Moonshadow'; 'In song you pray, in prayer you sing/a voice which brightens everything/a call beyond the skies you see/the answer comes on light and free.'" That last part she half-sings, her voice clear and practiced. "Of course, it gets odd looks at times, but I'm used to that, and hey, every now and then I do somehow have an answer at the end. Like the old riddle song--'Alone in flight it can't be seen, but glorious sight it brings to me; my questing fingers ne'er reveal, but on me resting it I feel.' Tell me if you get tired of those, by the way. Old Iram, a man I knew before I was tapped, always told me, 'I wouldn't worry about you talking the hind leg off a donkey, Manar--you'll sing it off first!'" Her voice switches into a startlingly accurate imitation of a creaky old man.

[mdsoze]

Samson thinks for a long moment, and then repeats back slowly...

'Alone in flight it can't be seen, but glorious sight it brings to me; my questing fingers ne'er reveal, but on me resting it I feel.'

Most people would say that there's only one answer, but I think there are two.

We see both by the light of the sun and the light of our Lords.

[Ravyn]

Manar nods, smiling brightly. "Then again, in some Orders that is one answer." She looks out over the temple, whose walls glisten in the sunlight. "And either way, it's right, in more ways than the unknowing would believe. Do you have a taste for riddles, or did it just seem to need solving?"

[mdsoze]

I enjoy puzzles, yes. My preference is for visual puzzles as opposed to words. I just kind of close my eyes and let the pieces move themselves for a while, and when I open my eyes I already have a good idea of where to start.

As for that riddle, if I hadn't solved it now, I would have pondered it before resting later. Now it is finished.

Samson looks up at the sky, and notices how far the sun has traveled since they sat down, seemingly a short time ago.

Lady Manar, if you are going to give our other guests as proper a welcome as you gave me, perhaps we should return to the temple. It is getting on in the day.

Samson rises, and once again offers his arm to Manar, walking back towards the temple with her.

[Ravyn]

Manar pulls herself to her feet and walks with him. "One last thing...." She's a bit more hesitant on this one, as if she's having to think through every word. "How do you deal with the more.... hidebound of the people out there? I know acceptance is a valuable quality, but it's unnervingly rare in a lot of people." She meets Samson's eye for a moment, then looks down at the temple in front of her. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but..."

[mdsoze]

Samson nods his head.

Well, my size helps me. I don't like to intimidate people, but even you took a short step back when I approached. Most of them just avoid me out of fear.

The ones that don't, I try to show them that I am a paladin by example. If they don't give me that chance, sadly, on a very rare occasion I have had to use the flat side of my sword in self defense. I can only hope the ringing headache was lesson enough.

With that, Samson begins walking back towards the temple, this time leading his hostess. When they reach the temple.

I will try to return shortly. But I haven't had my hair trimmed in two weeks, and I don't want to look unkempt. Be well, and may the rest of our associates be pleasant company for you.

Samson attempts to find the nearest barber.

[Varen_Tai]

It was later in the evening. Samson explored the temple, its rooms and corridors making a perfect map in his head. Before long, he found a barber who was suprised and afraid at first of the large paladin asking for a trim, but in a very quick while, the barber was perfectly at ease, or as perfectly at ease as one can be while trimming the fur of a monstrous, though kindly, creature.

Manar went back out front and sat, watching the sun go down in the east. Like all temples of Lathandar, this temple had two major entrances, one in the west, and one in the east, so as to see the sun come and go every day. She felt the pangs of hunger, and decided to go to the mess hall, but merely minutes after sitting down, a messenger arrived from Balthor, telling her that another new arrival was nearing the western entrance. She almost asked if she would have time to eat something first, but thought better of it immediately. Putting down her food with a sigh, she raced back to the grand archway symbolizing the birth of each new day.

A large fountain sprayed into the air behind her, and the crowd had slowed to a trickle. Lathandar never closed his doors to the wounded and weary, but only the more desperate would attempt to come this late in the evening.

She barely had time to calm her thoughts again when she saw another unusual figure on horseback. The dimming light made it hard to see, but it looked like he was wearing a burnished breastplate, and...Is that a fur hat? she thought to herself.

[Ryshan Ynrith]

Aleksei rode slowly through the city, sweating a bit in the southern heat as he surveyed the city with an apprising brown-eyed gaze. So large and prosperous…I have never seen so many people together outside of a battlefield. Tyr guide me that I might find the temple in this maze of buildings!

He was riding Raisa, a fine mare who had been touched with Tyr’s spirit to aid him. She was fast and lightly built, with a fine bay coat and very bright eyes. He gave her an affectionate pat on the neck as he wondered where the temple might be.
Aleksei was surprised at how few people were looking at him. Normally, a mounted man in bright, ornamented armor and a regimental hat would be the subject of awe or fear, depending on where you might be, but these people hardly gave him another look. Of course, with your gear all travel-worn, perhaps you’re not so impressive as you think, Aleksei. Or perhaps it is my stature…most warriors are larger than I.

Aleksei wasn’t particularly big or small-he stood an inch under six feet, and his build was thoroughly average (though quite muscular). His brown hair came to about his shoulder, and he kept it in a ponytail to keep it out of the way. Aleksei felt the rough bristles of stubble on his face as he wiped more sweat from it. I really need to clean up, but I suppose I should at least check in at the temple before I do.

He was fully equipped, as if for battle, for he had been forced to fight quite a few times as he made his way to Waterdeep. His breastplate, mithril inlaid with mother-of-pearl, shone dully beneath the dust of the road, though his Order’s cloak seemed immune to such mundane troubles-the golden sunburst on his back still gleamed as bright as the day he earned it, and the white cloth was completely unstained. His boots were filthy, and their bright yellow hue was all but undetectable. At least his hat was still relatively clean, though the square fur cap was overkill in this climate. Reflexively, he felt the front, and sighed slightly as he noticed his regimental emblem was still pinned there. I may serve a better cause now, but I will not have my past be sundered from me completely.

Aleksei’s arms were plainer than his armor-a simple long saber, a plain lance, and a kite shield, completely unmarked. His face fell slightly as he touched the bare steel of the shield, and he spent a moment gazing at the ruby ring on his left hand before turning back to the present.

I need to find that temple…