Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray Tassada's light to keep
If I should die before I wake
Upon the Goddess may I wait


Zuriel closes his eyes, lids heavy with sleep, only to find himself transported to another realm.  The ground is a rolling expansive of white, new-fallen snow -- though it appears to be neither wet nor cold.  The pristine serenity extends for miles, an endless ocean upon a cloudless backdrop of (Carolina) blue.

A familiar song tugs at the edges of consciousness, as though urging you onward.

Zuriel looks around, astounded. The picturesque expanse extended in all directions with an aching beauty that took his breath away. Shadows stood out with razor definition, and he could see off into the distance with such clarity that it was impossible to gauge distances. Snow covered mountains stood far out on the horizon, scraping the sky with their peaks, yet it appeared as if Zuriel could simply reach out and touch them.

Am I dreaming? I feel so...alive!

Indeed, a sense of energy infused this place, seeping warmly into Zuriel's very bones, and charging him with limitless enthusiasm. He lets out a laugh and begins romping through the snow giddily, giggling like a child. His every sense was sharpened far beyond their mundane limits, and in their alacrity blended together. He felt the fresh scent of pine needles wafting in the breeze, and could see the warm glow of his childhood music box melody tinkling across the snowy hills.

He practically skipped through the snow, sense of wonder and excitement growing with every footfall. In the direction of his travel the melody grew louder, humming to resonate with every fiber of his being. Somehow, here the song lost much of its melancholy, replaced instead with abounding hope and joy.

Mother?!

Zuriel's silent entreaty is met with naught but silence, though the beauty of his surroundings remains untarnished.  After a time, he realizes that, though it is as bright as a summer noontide, there is no sun in the heavens.  The light simply is, and seems to need no explanation beyond that.

As you wander the plane in what is, for all intents and purposes, a random direction, you discern a blur of color out in the distance.  It is difficult to make out at first, but eventually you can define the blur as a mass of creatures.  A herd of some sort, cantering idly about the snow-covered plains.

Curious, Zuriel makes his way towards the creatures. He walks through the snow, trying to get a closer look.

The herd does not shy away from your approach, and to your amazement, you soon stand before a dozen or so stallions.  They come in all manner of colors and sizes, and any would make for a fine Charger.

The herd seems to know why you are here, even if you do not, and fans out into a semicircle around you.  Each stallion strikes its most fearsome, most gallant pose, and remains motionless as you approach.

The air is still and silent, save for the puffs of warm air wafting from the animals' nostrils as they breathe what is, to them, pleasantly chilly air.

Glancing around, you notice one member of the heard has not gathered with the others.  It is smaller than its peers, and is the only member of the lot to sport a coat of inky blackness, dark as midnight.

He seems resigned to his fate somehow, neither resisting nor enjoying his position at the outskirts of the herd.

Zuriel looks on at the outcast, heart breaking at the resigned look in the stallion's eyes.

I know that look...all too well.

He calls out to the herd in Celestial.

"What magnificent creatures you all are, each and every one of you! But why do you stand to the side?" he asks the midnight outcast. "Why do you not stand proudly with your peers? Surely you are just as gallant as they?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:31, Mon 06 Jan 2014.

The other stallions step aside to allow your passage toward the outcast, who looks at you with eyes that shine like pools of molten gold.

A voice enters your mind with obvious trepidation, speaking in Celestial:

"Though gallant at heart, I fear I am unfit for combat. Though your words do me honor, there are finer steeds than I."

The foremost stallion whinnies for attention and paws at the ground, his coat shimmering with a pearl-like hue that causes a rainbow of light to dance before your eyes.

"You'd do well to listen to her, noble one.  She has born a rider only thrice, and a different one each time..."

At this, the midnight steed bows her head in shame.

"It's not entirely her fault," the pearl stallion continues.  "The paladins who chose her were barely worthy of the title.  But you seem different, somehow.  More... appropriate.  Together, we can crush the Infernal to dust!

Zuriel's amber eyes widen as the implications of the gathering become apparent to him. Excitement and awe build up inside him until he feels like he's going to burst.

I must be here to find my celestial guide!

Zuriel smiles sadly as he considers the words of the pearlescent stallion. He was mighty, towering above even the other destriers, nearly the size of a draft horse but built like a wall of muscle. "Indeed, we would make a mighty team, though I imagine one such as you would be a formidable foe to the dark even without a rider fighting with you."

It's hard to believe such a mighty steed would consent to bear me! How proud Father would be if I returned astride such a magnificent stallion...

For a moment, Zuriel loses himself in the image of himself returning triumphant to the Temple in Hae'driel, mounted proudly on the celestial warhorse, armor glowing with polish and tabard immaculately pressed. Those who had doubted him begrudgingly forced to admit he belonged. His father, smiling. Lyriel looking on, eyes aglow. He takes a subconscious step towards the stallion, before stopping. He feels another pair of eyes regarding him, and the heart-rending emotion of a brief unexpected hope cruelly shattered.

He turns back to the midnight mare, who had taken the opportunity to shy back a few steps, head hanging. Zuriel steps forward and reaches out his hand, palm upwards. Tentatively the mare steps forward, and sniffs his hand. Zuriel smiles and strokes her nose. He looks into her molten-golden eyes. Zuriel sees himself reflected in their golden sheen. Gazing deeper, it as if the paladin is looking into his own past. All the hurt and pain of living on the fringe of society, ostracized and outcast. The helplessness that comes of being told you don't belong, don't fit in, and never can.

"What is your name, noble mare?"

The midnight steed blinks her big, golden eyes in surprise at being addressed a second time, but dutifully responds while the others snort their impatience.

"I am called Shahara, sir," the voice intones meekly.

"And I am Magnus, Herald of Glory," the pearl-hued stallion chimes in.

The rest of the herd seems to understand that the choices have dwindled to two, and give Zuriel, Magnus, and Shahara some extra space.

"Well met, Shahara and Magnus," replies Zuriel kindly. "I am Zuriel Siléndril of the Emerald Flame, son of Knight-Captain Edrahil Siléndril and...Meira. I am honored to make your acquaintances."

"I suppose if I am here, then it is to find my spiritual companion. If it please you, I'd like to know more about you both. Magnus, surely you've led countless charges against evil in your time. And Shahara, you say you are unfit for combat...why? I can sense radiant light in you."

The horses incline their heads in turn, in a facsimile of a bow.  Magnus speaks first, with Shahara shying away.

"Many is the foe ground to dust beneath my hooves, and rare indeed is it that I can be found upon the Celestial Plane.  My previous rider was lost while exploring a forbidden tomb nestled in the heart of Drynn -- a place where I could not travel, due to its restrictive hallways."

He preens proudly.

"I have, in fact, never lost a rider in combat. You could ask for no finer steed."

Shahara nods glumly as Magnus flicks his mane in her direction, indicating that he has finished and she should begin.

"I have served only three masters, noble one.  The first was Sir Dwight Daleson, a paladin more interested in impressing women than he was in battle.  I was the only stallion of my color in the entire army, and thus, eyecatching.  Dwight took ill one evening at a local tavern; I never saw him again after he stabled me that day."

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: You know that Dwight the Dim was renowned in the Flame as an example of why it paid to remain chaste and faithful, as he was poisoned by a jilted lover after spending the night with a harlot.]

"My second was Sir Vincent the Bold.  On the day we met, he tilted headlong into a cursed graveyard.  I was quickly sent back to this realm by the horrors that protected it, and that was the last time he summoned me."

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: Vincent the Spastic is another example from the Order about when to temper your zeal for justice.]

"And my third was more recent, a man named George Albricht.  We were at the second battle of Lo'driel, and I found myself polymorphed into a squirrel.  George sustained grievous wounds when he fell from my saddle, and never spoke to me again.  That didn't last long, however, because he died an hour later when a party of dark elves ambushed his company."

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: You haven't heard of George.]

Magnus snorts again when Shahara finishes.

"As you can see, the choice is clear."

Zuriel considers the stories of both the stallion and the mare thoughtfully. He can't shake the visions of glory of galloping through the gates of Hae'driel astride Magnus, but at the same time, Shahara's mournful eyes burned into his own, mirroring back images of himself when he was at his weakest, most heartbroken.

Until somebody raised me up and showed me I didn't have to cleave to the others to be of value...

Zuriel nods, mind made up.

The paladin bows before Magnus. "Lord Magnus, you are a wondrous stallion, the likes of which legends pale in comparison. I am deeply, truly honored that you would find me a worthy rider. I must respectfully decline, however, I suspect you will not remain here long before another paladin comes to claim you as a steed."

Zuriel smiles kindly and walks over to Shahara, who managed to once more shy away, head hung in shame. He strokes her mane and kneels so that his eyes are level with hers. Amber-gold gazes into molten-gold, seeming to reflect off each other with inner radiance.

"Lady Shahara, it would be my honor to count you as my steed, if you would consent to bear me. I require more than simply a mount to ride into battle; I seek a guide and a friend. You may not be as mighty or have a history as valorous as Lord Magnus, but I see something else inside you: kindness, and light. Come with me, and together we will show the world what truly matters. Let us write a new history together, you and I, of radiance and redemption."

Magnus blinks, clearly unused to being told no, then holds his head high.

"Suit yourself," he snorts, walking away to give you and your chosen companion a little privacy.

Shahara looks equally confused for a moment, then shuffles her feet giddily as realization dawns upon her.

"It would be my pleasure to accompany you on your travels, noble one.  When do we begin?"

As you reach out toward her, the world dims and fades, and slowly you are returned to the realm of the waking -- humming an ancient melody and infused with a warm, comforting presence that stays with you for hours.


Angel of Light, my guardian dear
From whom thy love commits thee here
Ever this day, be at my side
To light
To guard
To rule
To guide

~~ Zuriel has learned a new ability: Summon Celestial Charger ~~