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OK, the Story Game.
I *think* I get how this works: apparently, you comment on this choosing three of the words below, and then I write a short story involving those three words, and our characters.
This may get difficult, especially given my writing style and the Mill-en/Freiboden divide, but I'm willing to give it a try. Damn you oxfordgirl.
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I *think* I get how this works: apparently, you comment on this choosing three of the words below, and then I write a short story involving those three words, and our characters.
This may get difficult, especially given my writing style and the Mill-en/Freiboden divide, but I'm willing to give it a try. Damn you oxfordgirl.
Pick ( Read more... )
“How shall we pray when the sun is rising?...” The song seemed appropriate at this early hour. “Rested heart and an even temper”…. Not so much, then.
“Sunrise, Fiona. You see that? The sun rises upon another day in this blighted place.”
Edward turned to the Malathian woman who sat nearby.
“You, at least, I respect for your faith. We all make choices in this life, and you have chosen the way of a true faith - late, perhaps, but you have chosen it. We are all children of the true gods.”
Edward sighed.
“These, here, they have chosen the path to damnation. Whatever the differences between the Weaver and the Smith, I think we both agree that there are some things that should not be. The soul goes to the gods upon death. This blighted place the True Gods have turned their faces from - look, see how the Demons walk free, in positions of power. Look at the abominations that dwell below.”
Edward’s voice grew ever more melancholy.
“But yes, let us speak of choices and of faith. Insight, so claims your mistress the Weaver, cuts sharper and deeper than a knife - and what is religion but insight, into the way the world is supposed to be? For my part, I believe that people should be together and work together. That there are some things that are right, and some that are wrong - and that people should stand together behind the banner of the Right, and oppose the Wrong and the threats to their greater community.”
Edward paused, aware that he had begun to rant.
“I am willing, however, to see that others have different priorities. What, then do you see as important? What do you believe the Weaver teaches you? Your comrades in the Loom were good to me, and I should try to understand you more. Tell me of your faith, then.”
Edward settled back to listen, and knew that the words exchanged here brought the Faithful together, and that this, above all things, was Right.
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"Anyway, I met priests of all the faiths in Nordon - you can find *anything* there- and I felt drawn to the Weaver as a god of going out there, being yourself, and making things happen. Not for you personally, but for the *world*. Inspiration gives you gifts to be shared, not to record and hide away... or sell for coin and nothing else. I'd like to say you *have* to share a gift for quick and neat surgery, but it's amazing how many don't..."
"And those gifts aren't just the poetry, the art, the music that are more obvious. We *do* work against the demons, just not with fire and sword. There are already people who do that, after all." She grinned, and nodded at Edward's mace. It was a rather good one. "It's fairly obvious that one of our weapons is money, is it not?" And I wouldn't bet against many of the.. longer term solutions... being the product of those inspired by Her guidance."
"So... don't think the Weaver frivolous or ineffectual, or unconcerned with serious business. Yes, there is a place in my heart for the Lover but, well, I'm a doctor, and I feel most affinity with Her in Her aspect as the Midwife. Joy, life, rebirth... but they come with pain, blood and screams, and we mustn't forget that. We have to *work* for the good things, and that's something all the faiths should share."
"So, er, can I get you a drink?"
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