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Title: Keeper of the Dead Post by Bernard on 07/18/03 at 16:04:06 A dirt road. A small village, like so many others before. He is like all the other travelers who pass this way. Merchants on their way to ply their wares in the city beyond, huntsmen returning from the dark forest, young men seeking their fortunes... they all pass this way. His face lies hidden within the deep recess of the billowing hood of his gray robes. He passes by the outlying farms, taking as little notice of them as they of he. He has never been here before, but he feels the pull within him. His path is clear. As he passes, he pays no attention to the grinding sound of the mill turning corn into meal, no attention to the children who burst forth from the single-room school into the afternoon sun, no attention to the signs promising two bushels of apples for a single crown. These are not for him. His path takes him directly to a long, low building with no windows. Sealed against the light, this is the best that the little town can afford for a sepulcher. He stops. "Can I help you sir... you must be lost. This is not a place for you...ah..." The woman freezes as the traveler lifts his head and she catches a glimpse under the billowing hood. "Oh.. my ... my .. ah ..." Her voice only shows a tiny part of the distaste clear in her face. She backs away, stammering. He withdraws his hood. His face is unremarkable, perhaps it would even be considered appealing if not for the simple silver circlet that adorns his forehead. Tarnished with age, the circlet sinks deeply into his flesh from long and continuous wear. The circlet is broken in the center, separated across his forehead, a symbol of his devotion to maintain the line between life and death. The villagers part around him now, retreating from his presence as if he were one of the corpses that he would soon be handling. They are too simple to understand his obligation. An older man approaches, somewhat hesitant, as if he feared that the traveler was to personally take him across the line. If only he understood, he would know that to do such a vile act would be impossible for a Keeper. The crowd draws in behind the old man, their resolve bolstered by their numbers. They act as impatient children, hoping to have this distasteful episode over quickly so that they might resume their lives, glad to ignore the stranger's presence for as long as needed. "I hold the line between darkness and light." He begins the ancient liturgy, spoken in greeting when no other words would suffice. The old man responds. "Master Keeper, two have passed into darkness this season. We have washed them and kept them sealed within according to the tenets." "I accept those who have passed into the darkness. They will follow the way of nature and will never walk this earth again. I will Keep them safe during their eternal rest." The ritual transfer concluded, the crowd begins to disperse. They have no desire to see more of what happens. They know the bodies of their neighbors, their loved-ones, will now be safe in the hands of the Keeper of the Dead. Hours later, the traveler emerges from the wooden sepulcher. He is surprised to find a small boy sitting in the dirt of the road. At his approach, the boy struggles to kneel, his tiny frame wracked with the wasting sickness that struck the lowlands this past winter. "My mother told me to seek out your blessing..." His voice is raspy, perhaps from the dust of the road, but more likely from the wasting. "I am no priest, child." "My mother told me to seek out your blessing..." His voice is less steady now, desperate. The traveler pauses, sets his hand aside the child's temple. "May you live with honor in the light and pass with grace into the darkness." He sets out once again. He knows the child will remain in the light for many seasons. He knows that the two bodies within the sepulcher will find rest, never to rise against nature and walk this world again. His duty has been fulfilled. It is time to leave. He sets out on the trail once more. He can almost feel the mood of the village lifting as his shadow stretches out along the trail. The city beyond will be much more difficult. He feels the pull of those who have passed into darkness. He smells the stench of those who walk against nature. He draws the hood of his cloak back over his head, glancing up only briefly to see the signpost. Nightmist, 2 days walk. A Keeper is coming to Nightmist. |
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Title: Re: Keeper of the Dead Post by Gintonic on 07/25/03 at 02:58:13 gotta hand it to you Bernard..... great job!!! ;D |
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Title: Re: Keeper of the Dead Post by Bernard on 07/26/03 at 01:36:43 Thanks... was starting to think that this part of the forum was inactive ;) |
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Title: Re: Keeper of the Dead Post by Drake_Lord on 10/13/03 at 08:43:10 Ok, with passages like that I thought I was just a n00b on NM, great, now im a n00b on the boards! :o lol Nice one, Draco brethren. |
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