Author Topic: Turin's return  (Read 6993 times)

pcw27

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Turin's return
« Topic Start: January 09, 2018, 07:50:50 AM »
In the center of Caiyun lay an expanse of stone paving, elevated a cubit or so above ground level. That foundation was all that remained of the first temple of Sanguis Astroism. Weeds and moss grew about the old ruins threatening to swallow up the sacred site and disguise its last vestiges beneath a tangle of vegetation. Two figures stood at the edge of this sacred ground, where years ago the entrance looked out upon the main plaza of the Caiyun township. On the left stood a man in simple grey robes adorned only with an amulet that bore a silver chevron. A divot in the forehead distinguished the creased and haggard face of this man. On his right stood a woman clad in pure white. Her dark hair framed a face beautiful, yet with lips drawn tight and eyes distant, as though not seeing what lay before her or else not caring. The swell about her belly revealed her to be heavy with child and very near to the day of birth.

From the granite platform what was once the entrance to the first temple, the most holy of all sacred sites, Turin looked down on the gathered crowd. He spotted no familiar faces. Near the front stood a man in the robes of a priest of Sanguis Astroism, and not far off a priestess wearing the accouterments of the ecclesiastics. The others varied from commoners to lower gentry. He hoped many were messengers and servants who would carry his words to the congregation.

"Faithful," Turin announced, his words slow and deliberate to capture the gravity of that address, "Since the Prophet left us the church has been in a state of slow decline. The elders, most of them, have worked in sincerity to maintain our faith, I was once one of them, but their work is in vain without a prophet. Many years ago I departed on a pilgrimage to holy Darfix. I lingered there in seclusion seeking the answer to the tumults and calamities that have plagued our faith. With great joy I announce that I have found it. The answer to our woes lies in the secret of the Silver Temple. Many have sought out the Silver Temple of Darfix. Yet none have found it. The ancient monks of the city have guarded this secret since time immemorial. The Silver Temple is not as we imagine it. The temple is no glistening edifice of earthly masonry. See here, the sign of temple.

He held out his amulet a simple chevron of pure silver for all to see.

"Now look upon it from the celestial perspective," Turin went on.

With that he inverted the chevron.

"Behold the sign of the chalice, the symbol of the womb from whence we all arise," He explained, "the Silver Temple is the womb from which the Second Prophet will be born."

Turin lowered the amulet and gestured to the woman beside him.

"Beside me stands Lady Illyria, who serves as sacred vessel. She is with child and yet has never known the ways of men. Under my watch, with the aid of the monks of the Silver Temple she bathed in the waters of Boreal's Harbor and through the light of the Blood Stars themselves conceived by parthenogenesis. Long have I had the power to sense the human aura and know how near a person is to balance with the Stars. Her child will be born to spiritual perfection. Her child will know the ways of the stars as only Holy Mathurin did before. Rejoice all followers of the Bloodstars. These dark times are at an end. With the birth of the next prophet we will have a new golden age."


pcw27

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #1: January 10, 2018, 12:36:06 AM »
"Greetings brother. I expected there would be resistance to my announcement, such is the despair wrought by Allison, Jonsu and their kind, such is the depth of their evil, that all future prophecy will bring not joy but fear and uncertainty.

The church is as a ship who's navigator died in transit. Wicked men and women aboard did try to seize the rudder not so as to guide the ship but to steal it for themselves. The rest of the crew noble but ignorant thrust these mutineers back from the helm and did steer it into port, but it dared not continue the journey, ignorant as they were of the lore of navigators.

And lo when a fellow traveler returns from the port city crying,

"I have found a navigator! Rejoice for our journey can continue!"

The crew are wary, for they have known no other navigator, only licentious traitors who would turn their craft into a pirate ship or else run it aground in their folly. But the ship cannot remain forever in port. For barnacles will consume its hull and its timbers will rot from wood worms and the crew will know a true navigator by his knowledge of the stars.

I could go on about the signs that prove this moment, of the divine light over Darfix, of the visions and prophecies, I could read every affidavit from the monks of Darfix confirming the conception through parthenogenesis, but if you are Light of the Maddening these words of reason, should mean little to you. The truth is what you know in your heart. You will feel this truth when you look upon Illyria's child and see the wisdom of the ancients in the eyes of a mere babe and you will know the raw burning passion of the Maddening as you never did before."

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #2: January 31, 2018, 09:04:14 AM »
A tent waited pitched upon the sacred foundations of the First Temple. On all sides temple guards stood at attention. Some were sent by the Ecclesiastics of Helyg Derwyddon, others were volunteers there of their own volition. Per Turin's instructions all of the guards were either women or eunuchs. Their helms and mail made them seem almost as steel statues.  Nothing stirred them to move, not even the occasional cry of pain from within the tent.

Turin had tried to meditate, but he could not. For all his years of discipline he could not contain his impatience for the birth of the second prophet. Unable to sit still he paced back and forth across the paving stones just in front of the tent.

At last the cry of a babe rang out through the night. Turin stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the tent flap in anticipation. A few moments passed, but it felt like a lifetime. At last a midwife, clad in white, her wrists soaked in blood emerged from the tent and rolled back its flaps. There lay Illyria, propped up on a birthing couch draped in blankets.  Sweat soaked her hair and brow in spite of the cool night air, and her lips were bent in the gentlest smile. In her arms lay the child, swaddled in cloth and fast asleep.

Turin approached tentatively, then knelt down and put his ear near Illyria's lips, so she could whisper to him the infant's name.

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #3: June 26, 2018, 05:48:49 PM »
Turin meditated in the tower of his manor bathed in the light of the Maddening star which shone full even as darkness veiled the others. The Maddening had always been the star he felt most often attuned to though for some reason fate never permitted him to serve as its light. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, and he spoke aloud.

"I had a vision of the prophet. He lead me to a chamber deep beneath the Earth. It had a mighty gate, but the way was shut. We circled along the dome checkered with transparent stone until at last he showed me a side door to a great realm. Within dwelt dragons and serpents. I leaped above a wyrm with jaws that could swallow a sailing vessel whole. A flying drake swooped from above, yet I made it clear to the other side..."

"And then you awoke,"

The reply came from the deep clear and seldom heard voice of Illyria. At her breast suckled the sacred babe Severina prophetess of Sanguis Astroism, as yet unrecognized.

"The Maddening calls you to enter a place of great danger," she stated.

"Indeed and I know that place well," Turin replied.



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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #4: June 26, 2018, 05:49:13 PM »
My Fellow Lurians,

I am writing to announce that I am running for the seat of Emperor. Though I have not long been a Lurian I have come to understand your ways and values and promise to abide by them. Honor, meritocracy, open discourse, religious freedom and tolerance, these I can swear by the Blood Stars to uphold, and to one with a faith such as mine any pact made in the name of the stars is sacrosanct. 

In a different life I was ruler of Iashalur. I forged the realm from the ruins of old Niselur amidst wild beasts and revenants. I know what it is to govern a realm at constant war with rogues seeking ever to reclaim its lost lands. 

Finally I will add that I have become your countryman at the Emperor's personal request, such is the faith and esteem he has for me. In truth I do hope he is found alive and well before the voting takes place, but we cannot run an empire on hope alone.

Yours,
Turin Erickson
Knight of Askileon Purlieus
Priest of Sanguis Astroism

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #5: June 26, 2018, 09:06:34 PM »
Turin gazes over his letters puzzled. The Emperor had announced his return mere hours after Turin had made his announcement, yet in that time he'd still received several condemnations and accusations of usurpation and lust for power.

"What was the point of this?" he asked aloud, "I've no chance of winning this election and may have even made a few enemies. Scribe, begin a new letter on official bureaucratic parchment, 'After my name and titles message reads I herby withdraw-"

"Do not close your heart to the Maddening," Illyria interrupted, "the prophet shall lead you clear to the other side."

Turin took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Scribe discard that parchment and begin a new,"

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #6: November 11, 2018, 07:08:25 AM »
Turin arrived in Nimh late the at night, he needed to investigate the battle for himself. Much to is disappointment there was little to learn except that Artorias had been wounded. He called upon the estate of Light Katrina Dragul one of his oldest friends. The staff admitted him and his entourage giving them the ancient right of hospitality.

He slept but briefly before being awakened by the cry of Ravens. Letters poured in from the church, and inevitably he would need to send letters back.

Now many sleepless hours later his wrist ached and his head throbbed. Penning one last letter he put down his quil, shut his eyes, and rubbed his temples.

Then without warning a joyous sound interrupted his moment's respite.

Her voice was clear as a bell, cheerful as a sparrow song, and warm as a spring breeze, "Uncle TURIN!" she cried.

Turin opened his eyes and at once forgot his wrist and his temple. The girl leaped into his arms and he could not help but laugh as he caught her. After a firm hug he held her back a moment to look at her better. It was hard to believe that four years had passed already. She really did look like her mother with her ebon black hair, and crystal grey eyes, but she had something her mother did not, an aura of pure white light, perceptible only to Turin.

"Stars be praised Severina how you've grown. You're springing up like a dandelion. I remember when I could hold you in one arm. How tall are you now?"

"Two and a half cubits," She replied with pride.

 Turin's joy and surprise faded a bit and concern set in.

"Where is your mother? He asked? How did you get here?"

"She is in the courtyard. We rode here. Don't be afraid for us. The temple guards came too," she assured him.

Turin hugged her again.

"You are unhappy," she said.

"Yes, there is much trouble in the church," Turin said, "I don't know if you're able to understand it yet."

"I understand it," she said, "I don't have the words for it yet, but I feel it."

She placed her hand on Turin's forehead, right over the divot where there was a hole in his skull, his third eye as it were. Turin felt the curiously cool touch of Severina's palm. His headache subsided, his eyes closed and he felt at peace.

"It is alright Uncle Turin, soon you will be starlight," She said.

"Starlight?" Turin asked, confused.

"Yes, you will be starlight and shine on me and everyone else for ever. Very soon it will happen and there will be no more pain."

Turin stared mesmerized at Severina's smiling face as he realized the meaning of her words. His eyes welled up with tears and overflowed.

"The world does not deserve you," Turin said.

"No one deserves the Blood Stars, yet there they are," she replied.

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #7: November 21, 2018, 06:33:47 AM »
Faithful,

In the midst of so many other happenings I have something astounding to report.

I sail now on the Channel of Gelene. I arose at dawn when the Blood Stars were still visible and made my way above deck. There I saw Severina meditating at the bow her dutiful guards at her side as always. The pleasant sight made me smile, but then something seemed amiss. The prophetess' shoulders began to shake, first faintly then in violent convulsions. I ran to the bow and knelt beside her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she thrashed back and forth. I seized her in my hands, cried her name. Then her eyes snapped back, but pupils were as pinpricks. She leaned to my ear and whispered:

"The withered vine must grow green again,
and from it will sprout many fruits,
of different shapes,
but all red as blood.
The children will come, eat of them and grow strong"

She said this and collapsed into my arms. She slept for some time but is well now. I believe this was her first prophecy.

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #8: October 29, 2019, 08:53:18 AM »
Turin prepared another scathing rebuttal to Adam and as he did he coughed so violently it made him clench his eyes shut. When he opened them again he saw his parchment page splattered with blood.

He sighed and gazed out the window, reflecting on happier times. From the office of his manor he could his favorite hill, and atop it a pavilion with three peaked roofs sheltering three cushioned seats.

He remembered when Katrina had come to visit him so many months ago. He’d been sitting in the shade of the pavilion with Severina and Illyria. He heard Katrina’s footsteps on the cobblestone steps which wound their way up the hill. The sound roused him from his meditation upon the Maddening star

He turned to see Katrina’s smiling face creased with age though it was, her eyes still shown brightly, or at least to Turin they did. He could see an aura about her, as he could for all people, and hers was a warm red but somewhat more faint and wispy than others.

“Katrina,” he greeted, “it’s been too long. This is Illyria and of course the young Prophetess Severina”

The two made an imposing pair. They had the same dark hair and piercing crystal blue eyes. Severina was not quite five years of age yet she sat still and patient her face placid. It gave her an air of serenity, wisdom and dignity few adults can project.

Katrina curtseyed, “My lady, your holiness,”

“Indeed it has been too long brother,” replied Katrina, “What is this you’ve built here?”

Turin smiled with pride as he answered.

“I call it an Astro-oculus. It is my preferred space for meditating upon the stars. I think they will become quite common in the future,”

“Turin has been contemplating the Maddening, it is his patron,” Severina interjected, “mother is attuned to the Austere. I am balanced with all so I chose the Auspicious.”

“Would you like to mediate with Holy Severina,” Illyria offered as she rose from her cushion.

“It would be a privilege of course,” Katrina replied.

Katrina took her place beside Severina and she whispered something to Katrina, something Turin could not hear. Then the three sat for a brief time in perfect peace.

There was no peace now, not for the church and not for Turin. Yet one might know peace soon enough.



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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #9: October 29, 2019, 08:53:50 AM »
They say a proper duel should be fought at dawn, but I could be dead by dawn, Turin thought as he gazed at the Western sky. The sun dipped beneath the horizon and at last the great zealot could see his beloved Holy Blood Stars. He breathed deep as he gazed upon them. One last look, the thought, then I will be with you. I’m coming Boreal, Rowan all you heroes and martyrs of old.

Out of the corner of Turin’s eye a glare disturbed his reflection, there could be no doubt in his mind what he saw. This was aura of a living legend. He’d seen it in years past shining across the battlefield like a beacon. This was the victor of innumerable tournaments. How many mighty knights had been slain by his hand in duels such as this? The name of this ancient warrior struck fear in the hearts of foes and admirers alike, Karibash ka Habb.

Behind the great swordsmen marched a troupe of warriors eager to see their master in action. Karibash sneered at Turin upon approach.

“Well if it isn’t the sniveling whelp Turin, seems your fear of ignominy has finally overcome your fear of death,” he mocked.

“Lord Karibash, your hatred is as constant as the light of the Blood Stars, it warms my heart,” Turin replied.

He drew his sword. He thought he’d abandoned its ways years ago when he took up the cloth, he’d even broken if off at the hilt to signify his dedication to the church, but circumstances had changed. The smiths of Astrum forged it anew and now he was ready to do battle. One last time, Turin thought. Karibash drew his sword as well.

“Well then, shall we have at it or do you need someone to drop a mace,” Karibash taunted.

“I think that’s proper,” Turin replied

“Captain bring forth a mace!” Karibash bellowed.

His man strode forward. He held the weapon aloft and let if fall. Turin’s foe seemed to be upon him the same instant he heard sound of the mace hitting the ground. Turin staggered backwards, his sword flailing wildly to deflect Karibash’s many deadly blows. In the course of the melee he lost his balance and dropped to one knee, his blade still held aloft.

“Get up weakling!” Karibash demanded.

Turin rose, he had scarcely a moment to gain his footing before Karibash was upon him again. This time he side stepped. Karibash deftly pivoted. Now Turin could see the Bloodstars over his foe’s shoulder. He breathed deep again and a great calm washed over him.

Karibash lunged again and their blades clashed, but this time both found flesh. Karibash’s sword grazed Turin’s thigh, and as it did Turin brought his own blade down on Karibash’s wrist, severing it in twain. Hand and sword clattered to the ground in a spray of blood. Without a cry, without even a wince Karibash reached for his sword with his left hand, but Turin stomped on the weapon so it could not be recovered. He hesitated a moment, the tip of his sword aimed at Karibash’s throat.

“Do it you coward!” Karibash shouted, “you are only killing a man!”

Turin clenched the hillt of his sword ever tighter until his hand shook, then with a cry of rage he plunged the blade into Karibash’s heart. The blood spatter mixed with his crimson robes. He panted unable to believe what had just happened. Turin looked to the Torens, fearing they might slay him in turn.

“No matter,” their captain said.

Turin stared back, puzzled

“do you not understand his last words?”

Turin shook his head.

“You have only slayed Karibash the man, Karibash the legend, the god, lives on,” the Captain explained.

And with that the troupe gathered up the body of their fallen leader, leaving Turin to watch, bewildered and lost.

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Re: Turin's return
« Reply #10: November 14, 2019, 12:57:24 AM »
It had been a clear night, one that would have afforded a glorious view of the Blood Stars, if they had been shining that is. As the dawn came dense clouds had rolled in to smother its feeble light. Turin reclined on his cot, tent flaps still open from a night spent contemplating not the Blood Stars but their conspicuous absence. His rasping breaths wheezed in his blood caked throat each one a labor to draw in.

He glanced at his sword leaning against the tent-post. If someone came to answer his challenges now it would be too late. Part of him longed to see Severina and Illyria one last time, but he'd rather they didn't see him like this, to remember him this way. He'd even dismissed his servants and healers, they were still sleeping in their tents.

The breaths came slower and slower. Each time it took longer for him to work up the strength to inhale again and each time he thought not to bother, to just let it all stop. 

117 years of life, and of that a century, give or take, dedicated to the stars. In spite of all that he wondered if he'd done all he could.

In the silence of the grey morning he heard voices, three familiar voices speaking in unison, "rest old friend, you have earned it."

Gasping, Turin's cracking voices managed to whisper, "Rowan... Boreal... Mathurin... thank you..."

He let out the last of his breath and just lay still, letting the darkness take him.