Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire.   Posted by Dungeon Master.Group: archive 0
Dungeon Master
 GM, 424 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Tue 4 Jul 2006
at 21:29
Victorious
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Early afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



Unlike the lands surrounding Rosewood the areas around Iriaebor were relatively safe so long as one stuck to the roads.  The great walls of the city were soon within view.  The gates were open to travellers and Serol passed with no mor fuss than a raised hand to the gate captain.  The streets were clogged with people going about their business taking advantage of the mild afternoon to catch up on the more strenuous tasks and heavy purchases they had been putting off.

Serol reached the long stairs leading to Kossuth's temple in triumph today where before he had arrived in near defeat.  This time his arrival was met with crisp salutes and averted eyes out of respect for his new station within the church heirarchy.  Serol left Dnae at the stables and immediately left in search of an audience with Kraakis who would no doubt be pleased with the news.

Kraakis' lone attendant, for no guards were necessary within the temple even if any of them could have offered better protections than Kraakis himself could, was posted by the hallway that led inside to the Eternal Flame's chambers.  "Brazier Kinspar!  I will announce your presence, please wait here a moment."  After several long minutes the attendant returned and motioned down the hallway.  "Eternal Flame Kraakis will receive you now."

Kraakis was seated at a high desk reading a massively large tome spread over it.  "Greetings Serol, you have returned quickly..."

This message was last edited by the GM at 01:06, Wed 05 July 2006.

Serol Kinspar
 player, 261 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Tue 4 Jul 2006
at 23:22
Re: Victorious
When Serol arrived safely within the gates of the temple he used a part of the spell energy provided to him, today by Kossuth, to heal his wounds.  It would not do to bleed on the Eternal Flame's carpet.

Serol walked down the halls his mind focused on the report he would give the Eternal Flame, he grew increasingly shy with all the fan-fare.  He noticed a boy in holy robes salute and he wanted to stop and explain to the boy, that he was a simple son of a Farmer.  The glory of his station, and the power he wielded were not his, they wer Kossuth's.  But he doubted it would make much difference.

He simply made his way to the door, he didn't even have time to open his mouth before the attendant leapt his way into speak with Tendril Kraakis in his private chambers.  He wanted to sigh, he wanted to shrink away from the fame he seemed to have garnered today.  All he wanted was to serve the Lord of flames, to love him.

"And to have him love me back." the thought seemed to come out of nowhere, but he found he could not simply dismiss it.  The joy the first oath had brought him was fresh... it had, after all, happened less than two days ago.  He wondered if it would be like it was before.

Yet he didn't have time to ponder it further.  The attentant had returned and ushered him into the room where he stood infront of the imposing desk, behind which sat an even more imposing man; Eternal Flame Kraakis.

Serol bowed to stand in the man's presence as he stood he was already completing the sign of Kossuth in the air.  "Kossuth's blessings upon you, Eternal Flame." he said formally before addressing the question in the older cleric's voice.

"As commanded the riverway has been cleared." he paused not knowing how much to say.  The man had sent him on a task and he had completed it.  To go into detail unbidden might seem like he was being bostful, bostful to a man who could have seen to the trouble himself while never standing from his chair

Still Serol's words hung in the air the silence between the two men grew heavy and thick, and Serol could not stand the emptiness longer he offered up a few details keeping his report as brief as possible.

"Four Elementals, to be specific, Eternal Flame.  Your book was a most valuable asset in my preperation.  There was also a cleric of our hated Istishia  whom was likely in charge of the vile creatures.  I battled him as well as the four and Kossuth's superiority was proven true.  One of the barges was damaged, but the captain assures me the damage was minor the remainder of the fleet was unscathed."

Serol will use up his Bull's Strength for a Cure Mod and Magic Weapon for a Cure Light, then just to be fully presentable he'll use his guidance for another point.

16:23, Today: Serol Kinspar rolled 5 using 1d8+4. Serol CLW.
16:23, Today: Serol Kinspar rolled 12 using 2d8+4. Serol CMW.
Cure Minor: 1 Hp

This message was last edited by the player at 23:25, Tue 04 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 426 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Wed 5 Jul 2006
at 16:29
A Second Ascension
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Early afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



"A cleric of Istishia?  We should have figured as much."  Kraakis' burned face was to most an expressionless mask of gruesomeness.  To Serol who had often observed the old man with more than a little awe and respect he could see the hint of troubled thoughts swirling in the older man's mind.

"You will accompany me immediately to the Hall of Fire where your accomplishments will be heralded to the full temple.  There any who wish to speak against your ascension to the third terrace will have opportunity to do so.  When those matters are resolved you will undertake another oath and ascend."  Kraakis wheeled on a heel making for the hallway that led out of his chambers.  Flicking a hand with what appeared to be either annoyance or disgust a braided rope of red, orange, and yellow silk hanging from the ceiling well across the room tugged violently downward and the temple's bell clanged loudly somewhere overhead.

"Kossuth has told me my faith in you is well-placed Serol Kinspar."
Serol Kinspar
 player, 262 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Wed 5 Jul 2006
at 19:35
Re: A Second Ascension
The relationship between a man and his father was an interesting one.  When one is young your father, regardless if he were biological, adoptive or simply figurative, is the most powerful man in your life.  He is strong, brave and infallible the world is fully within his control and you can rest easy knowing that your life is in his capable hands.

Yet there is a moment, a single brief, fleeting moment, in every man's life when that facade is shattered forever as the illusion it always was.  Maybe your father wasn't the most powerful man on the planet, or perhaps he didn't have things as firmly under his control as you had once thought.  There was a moment where every man realized that his father didn't know everything.

Ever after, your relationship is changed.  Not lessened, per-say, simply different you view the world through a different lenses as you cast off the rose-colored glasses of youth for a crisp clear look at the real world.

For Serol, whom had lost his own father when he was just a boy, Eternal Flame Kraakis was as close to a father as he had known since.  In that moment, that single instant he saw Kraakis not simply as an unquestionable, all knowing, monolith of protection and knowledge; but rather an old man for whom events might be spinning out of even his powerful control.  The moment humbled Serol, much more than it humbled Kraakis, whom was already well aware of his innate failings.

Serol loved the man, as any might in his position.  He wished to please him, and serve him to make him proud almost as much as he wished these things for Kossuth; for it was a mortal hand that raised Serol up.  A hand guided and dedicated to the Firelord, but a mortal none the less.

He said nothing as the Eternal Flame told him to follow him to the Hall of Fire.  No answer seemed necessary, except of course, the obedient following of the order; of which he did.  The two men walked in silence down the wide hall.  Serol's mind swirled in this newest realization of his maturation.

Yet Kraakis' last spoken words snapped him out of his thoughts.  "Kossuth had spoken so favorably of him?" This realization was almost as shocking as the first.  Had his mind and body not already been near numbness he was sure he would have gasped in shock.  To be honest, he wasn't sure he hadn't still.

"I live to serve Kossuth as he would have me, Eternal Flame." he wished to reassure him that he would serve as Kraakis wished him as well, but should his loyalties be challanged between the man he loved like a father and the god he loved like no other, Kossuth would win out.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Wed 05 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 427 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Wed 5 Jul 2006
at 22:01
Re: A Second Ascension
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Early afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



The Hall of Fire was buried deep within the temple.  Symbolicly it represented the hottest coals burning and smoldering at middle of a fire's ashes.  It was in the Hall of Fire where the most solemn occasions and bitter disagreements were settled, always by fire.  Great priests of the church were pyre'd here, a single shaft in the middle of the great room venting the smoke.  Self-immolations to prove one's fervor for Kossuth were also fairly commonplace but neither as common as the Oaths of Firewalking that were administered here.  Advancement within the church heirarchy could not occur with the undertaking of an Oath of Firewalking.  More often than the clergy would admit to unconverted believers, the Oaths proved fatal.

Serol and Kraakis arrived by way of a secretted entrance in the corner of the great hall.  Perfectly cubic columns, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, held the ceiling aloft and supported the temple which towered above.  Flames burned vigorously in braziers that screened their presence from the rapidly growing crowd of accolytes, priests and braziers.  The summoning of the bell was not to be ignored.

After several moments Kraakis emerged from behind the flames with Serol in tow.  "Kossuth's blessings upon us all!" he said bringing a hush over the assembled mass.  "Today we come here to bear witness to the ascension of one of Kossuth's chosen Braziers, Serol Kinspar.  Brother Kinspar has proven his worthiness for the second terrace by defeating a cleric of Istishia and a force of his water elementals single-handedly.  In addition to dealing our most hated adversary a humiliating defeat the act has preserved the relationship with this temple's most affluent contributors.  Let any who oppose Serol Kinspar's ascension speak now!"

Nearly every eye in the Hall of Fire that could see him turned to Vilthanus.  The cleric was well known to oppose any ascension and rumors of his particular distaste for Serol had spread like wildfire through the temple.  Instead of launching into a vitriolic litany of allegations against Serol Vilthanus stood quietly, almost smugly.

"If there is no dissent then the Oath of Firewalking will begin." Kraakis intoned with the strong voice those in the temple knew so well.  "Vilthanus will administer the Oath."  A collective gasp nearly sucked the air from the room.  The oaths were rarely spoken oaths per se, but rather tests of one's fortitude and faith.  As a priest of the second terrace himself Vilthanus was well within his right to adminster the Oath to those who sought a place next to him, but nobody had thought Kraakis would allow it, too many had died from Vilthanus' Oaths.

"Serol Kinspar, mighty Burning Brazier, remove your armor and clothing and present me with your weapon so that the oath might begin."  Vilthanus now stood apart from the crowd, his hand oustretched, eager to accept Serol's spiked chain.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 264 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 00:28
Re: A Second Ascension
Serol never knew that there was another enterance to the Hall of Fire.  Never before had he entered by any way but the main door.  He looked to the crowd, he saw so many young faces, young as he was the last time he stood in this room.

After the Eternal Flame called for protests to his accension his eyes too swept the room.  He was not looking for foes to strike at later, like some clerics might, instead he simply wished to see the true feelings of his brothers and sisters of Fire.

Like everyone else, his eyes eventually laid to rest upon the form of Vilthanus.  He was more surprised than anyone to see the elder man hold his venomus tongue.  The reason, however, soon became quite apparent.  It was he who would administer the test.

Serol saught the flame within himself as soon as it became clear that he would again, in this next moment, take the Oath of Firewalking again.  The first time he stood at this point in his life he was alone and Kraakis stood at his side.  His presence was strength and reassurance.  This was not the emotion he felt coming off of Vilthanus.

However, he began disrobing as intructed without hesitation.  In his heart he had wanted nothing more than to serve Kossuth.  It was just this afternoon he wished that should he die, it would be embroiled in flame.  It seemed, he might get that wish granted after all.

"Kossuth," he said quietly more to himself than to anyone else, "should I fail you in this task, I ask your pleasure in my demise.  To fall in flames so that others within the faith might be inspired to better themselves in your name would be my last, greatest, gift to the god whom I love so much.  Send the servents of your flame to guide my spirit to rest in the plain of Eternal Fire, so that forever more I might know the true embrace of my Lord of Flames."

He moved to stand infront of Tendril Vilthanus of the Third Terris of Flames. He smiled an earnest smile at the man, Vilthanus could neither help nor hinder him in this task.  As before, he hoped, this would be between Serol and Kossuth and he could not think of something to be less afraid of, or more grateful for.  His hand reached into his leather pouch and he placed the coiled chain into the cleric's waiting hands only moments before his fingers quickly went to buckles on his armor.  He removed it sections, stacking them neatly off to the side with his crossbow, belt and pack.

Finally he stood before Vilthanus in nothing but his small-clothes and holy symbol, he did not see how the small item would interfear with his accention.  But should Vilthanus wish it, that too would be added to the pile.

The flame in his head grew larger, but it was not fear that was burning, as it might have been had Vilthanus overseen the first oath.  No, this time, Serol struggled to keep his excitement and pleasure from overrunning himself.  The flame burned hot and vigerously keeping his emotions in check.

This message was last edited by the player at 00:34, Thu 06 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 428 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
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Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 01:31
The Oath of Firewalking
Vilthanus, for all his spiteful malice, handled himself with amazing dignity and respect for the Oath soon to be undertaken.  The elder cleric even bowed reverentially as he accepted Serol's weapon, an act that for all appearances seemed genuine.  A continuous buzz from the murmurs of those assembled to witness filled the chamber but to Serol it did not exist, only the flame.

"A Burning Brazier represents the destruction that fire brings.  He serves to destroy the foes of the Firelord wherever they may hide and must prove to be strong enough to persevere against relentless foes who strike with the ceaseless repetition of waves upon the ocean shore."  As Vilthanus spoke he wrapped the spiked chain he now held, the chosen weapon of Kossuth himself, around Serol's body such that he could not move without tearing his flesh on its spikes.  "Brazier Kinspar has chosen the weapon of Kossuth as his means to deal the fire's destruction.  Though he is skilled in its use he has yet to realize its true glory, the glory that is bestowed within it by Kossuth himself."

Vilthanus took several measured steps backward away from Serol who was now bound by his weapon, nearly naked and vulnerable before beginning a prayer to Kossuth in an ever rising voice.  "Almighty Kossuth, forge your Brazier in the fire meant for your enemies, test his purity, his will, his fortitude, his strength.  Test his worthiness to serve you on the second terrace!"

Flames so pure they sent no smoke into the air formed around Vilthanus before shooting toward Serol.  The flames wrapped themselves around the bound priest twisting and writhing.  Instantly Serol's flesh turned red and blistered before it cracked and bled freely.  These flames burned with a heat far greater than those that consumed wood, these flames were fueled by the Firelord's holy power.  Vilthanus continued to direct the flames at Serol, his face finally revealing the pleasure they brought.  Not a priest in the hall could blame him for to control the flame was to commune with Kossuth.  Serol's flesh continued to burn and the sharp points of his weapon began to glow red from the heat.

Serol never wavered.  Never wavered that is until the flames called forth by his nemesis finally consumed him and he collapsed to the floor.

To pass the second Oath of Firewalking you will need to survive the flames' damage.  Serol has taken 40hp of damage and is unconscious.  The test is complete and there will be no more damage inflicted but you still must live.
[Private to Serol Kinspar: Villthanus channeled 40hp of divine power as damage to Serol.  That puts Serol at -2hp.  Normally I'd have you start rolling stabilization checks but that handy dandy Renewal Domain should kick in.  I'll let you have fun with that.  There will be no more damage from the flames and the flames will disappear at your discretion (creative license granted).]
Serol Kinspar
 player, 265 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 02:26
Re: The Oath of Firewalking
Serol had never seen the second oath of firewalking.  Most of the oaths were taken in a far less... public way.  He stood nearly naked before Vilthanus awaiting the coals as he had walked before.  Had he not held the flame that purified his mind from the emotions threatening to overwhelm him he would have been shocked as Vilthanus tied him with his own chain.  Within the flame it was but a footnote, something to be prayed upon later, should he survive.  It was as if he watched the test happen to somebody else, as it were from within the void of emotion and thought created by his perfect mental flame.

He would have shifted, but he knew to do so would draw blood.  He had used the deadly weapon every day since he became a devotee of the Firelord.  He had used it to strike down goblins, undead, elemental and man.  No one knew better the deadliness of the weapon than the man now bound by it.

He watched as Vilthanus stepped away, the words flowed over him and through him like some great ritual or casting of a spell.  The words were spoken, but it was not the words themselves that held the power that kept Serol's wraped attention.

He had no further warning.  Liquid fire exploaded from Vilthanus' outstretched hands.  The white-hot flames lept about eagerly though the air searching for something to vent their destruction upon.  A flame touched his skin... the void trembled.

Fire was everywhere it consumed him turning his smallclothes to ashes in only moments and even that fine layer of protection was burned away exposing his skin to more of the liquid fire.

Pain and agony ripped through his body shattering the void he held within his mind to a million tiny fragments.  He tried to pull air into his lungs in ragged gasps but doing so only served to char his mouth and throat.  The fire was relentless.  It burned everything, tore it apart like a child's wrapping paper at Shieldmet.

In an instant he felt his flesh begin to peel from his bones, could he smell anything he would have been filled with the stink of charred flesh and burnt hair.  He could feel himself slipping away into darkness.

The form of Serol Kinspar collapsed upon the ground like his very bones had melted in the heat.  Before the onslaught of flames was finished his body lay blackened and charred upon the ground.  His breath came, slowly, though ragged gasps and his eyes remained firmly shut.

No one could help him.  Should someone have touched him, his skin would have flaked away like a dandilion in the wind.  The man who was Serol Kinspar lay dying in the Hall of Fire.

Within himself, however, Serol's mind struggled to comprehend what was happening.  Nerves were singed to uselessness in moments leaving his body to feel nothing of the fire that ravaged his body.  But without the buffer of the void, those moments were longer than all of the years of his life put together.

He closed his eyes, and desperatly saught the void, some protection from the pain.  He knew he was dying.  To die in flame, to serve as a lesson to the faithful this is what he had asked Kossuth for.

"Thank you." the words were lost to raging flames even as he spoke them.  He thanked Kossuth for his life, for his oppurtunity to serve the Firelord, in body and spirit.  There were some who would have been bitter, had their lives cut short before they had truely lived them.  But Serol was only grateful.  Most men, he mused (partially delerious he knew) never know the love of anything greater than themselves.  Today, I will be ushered to the Realm of Pure flame by the hand of Kossuth.  No man could wield such power alone, Vilthanus was simply the channel though which Kossuth's power and will flowed.

***
The body of Serol Kinspar lay at the feat of Tendril Vilthanus when at last the last of the flames left his hand to lick at the blackened body.  Steam and smoke waifted equally from it and many nearby turned from the assault to their nose before it was completly over.

Yet Serol's vission instead flooded white.  He could feel his body still, what was left of it.  But the light filled his vision with purity and perfection.  He had been told that when you died, you went towards a light, but this light remained fixed within his sight.  It did not call to him or move.

It was an energy of pure perfection, he knew this, but he did not know how.  With his minds eye, he reached for it, submitting completely to the light to the perfection to its will.

The chain that Serol had wielded had suffered much of the same brunt of flame that Serol's mortal form had.  As he fell the chain loosened and clattered to the floor leaving baddly blistered skin beneath instead of the charred blackness where the flame had touched alone.

Yet even though Vilthanus had stopped his flame moments earlier, Serol's body once more burst into flame.  Hot flames lept from his blackened husk and burned again unbidden by Vilthanus or any of the clerics who stood in attendance.  They burned quickly far more like a flash fire than the sustained burn from only moments ago.

Where the flames touched, it left behind healed skin instead of the blackened charred lump that was there only an instant before.  Serol's eyes snapped open, his emerald eyes surveying the room from his new vantage point, on his back on the floor.

Once again he saught the flame within his mind and this time the flame remained.  His body hurt everywhere but he no longer looked in danger of having his flesh stripped from his bones by a slight breeze.  His powerful muscles contracted and the large man pushed himself to his knees.

He then stood, slowly and painfully, but under his own power.  He stood before Vilthanus, before Kraakis, before the congregation, and before Kossuth.  He was naked and burned, reforged by the second rite of assention.

[Serol's at a full 3 hp and under his own power!
Private to Dungeon Master: 18:52, Today: Secret Roll: Serol Kinspar rolled 5 using 1d8+1. Serol Renewal. ]
Dungeon Master
 GM, 431 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 04:13
Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Mid afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



Vilthanus had sent the liquid fire of Kossuth against Serol and Serol had fallen.  Vilthanus basked in his glory.  He had been right, Serol Kinspar had not been judged worthy of the second terrace by the flame, just as he had argued so many times.

But then Serol had risen, risen from his own skin's ashes to stand before him in triumph.  Vilthanus was often misunderstood.  True he was a cruel and demanding superior, true had persued personal vendettas with a zealousness Kraakis wished he showed toward Istishia but at the heart of his being was the same flame that comforted Serol from within.  As Serol rose from the ground, reforged by Kossuth's pure fire, Vilthanus was not enraged or spiteful, he was respectful.  If only for the moment, however fleeting, Vilthanus acknowledged that Serol was his equal in the Firelord's eyes.  "Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace! he shouted to all those assembled bringing a roar of approval from acolyte, Flame Warden and Eternal Flame alike.

Vilthanus strode over to Serol and removed his overrobe which he draped over his naked peer's shoulders before bending down and retrieving Serol's spiked chain for him.  "Kossuth has made his will clear.  Just as you have been forged into something greater by his divine power, so too has your weapon.  Wield it evermore with the might deserving of his Lordship."  His duties done Vilthanus turned and walked through the hall, the sea of people parting to make way as he did so.

Kraakis stepped forward and addressed his followers as well.  "Today all of you have borne witness to both the desructive power of our Lord and his boundless ability to renew that which has passed.  Ponder upon these things in your prayers and strive for the dedication Brazier Kinspar has displayed.  kossuth's blessing upon thee all."  Kraakis led Serol away through the secret door once again.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 268 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 10:59
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Serol barely knew he was naked.  Somewhere in the back of his mind he did.  But his body felt like it was on fire.  The healing flame granted him by Kossuth had brought him back from the brink of death to life again, but his whole body was still wracked in pain.  The body is weak, the spirit is strong.  That was one of the many simple prayers one was taught while learning the flame and void techinque.

From within his own mind, he was aware of the scalding pain, but his diciplined mind simply refused to let it touch him.  He nodded heavilly at Vilthanus's words and croaked a "Thank you." to the man that would have sound more heart felt had his throat not suffered second degree burns.  Vilthanus had preformed the test, he was professional and gracious about it if not for him, Serol wouldn't have risen.

He walked slowly the robe draped about his shoulders and his chain cradled in his arms, along side the Eternal Flame.  The rest of his equipment, he was sure, would be quite safe within the heart of the Hall of Fire.  It would not have surprised Serol to return to his room and find his equipment there as he returned.

For the moment he walked in silence his mind upon the test, he was not sure how he had passed.  But he really did feel different.  Like a lump of raw iron, it was the heat of the forge and the skill of the smith that turned it to tempered steel.  There could be no smith greater in all the world than Kossuth who had reforged him as he would have him.

Serol mentally counted the amount of power he had left to him.  It would be enough to take the edge off the pain that he felt, but he feared he might just bleed on the Eternal Flame's carpet, after all.
Dungeon Master
 GM, 434 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 22:46
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Mid afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



Once they had returned to Kraakis' chambers the elder cleric finally adressed Serol.  "Kossuth's fire is both pleasure and pain.  To say it is one thing, to experience it and know it is another.  He grants you the power to relieve the pain, do not bear it uneccessarily."  It was tacit approval for Serol to heal himself of the burns if he wished to, after all, should Kossuth wish Serol to suffer he would not grant the healing.

"You have still far to go Serol.  Rosewood is in need of their Guardian and we are in need of your converts.  Return with my blessing and continue to bring honor and glory to the Firelord."  It was Kraakis' way of dismissing Serol.


Serol indeed found the rest of his posessions in his room when he returned, along with a beautiful young woman draped in a loose red scarf who herself was draped across his bed.  She said nothing upon his entering but her intent was clear as she waited for Serol to join her.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 270 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Thu 6 Jul 2006
at 23:28
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Serol needed no more encouragement from the Eternal Flame.  Even without feeling the extent of the pain from within the void he knew just how gravely injured he was.

His divine abilities were already taxed with his battle and previous healing.  Thus he was not able to fully restore his body to full health.  But his burns were nearly completly regenerated leaving red raw skin and blisters instead of scarring burns behind.  By morning, Kossuth willing, he would have the power to heal himself completely.

"Thank you, Eternal Flame." he said, his voice no longer gravely with the improved state of his body.  "I am honored by your faith in me, I shall be ready to return to Rosewood and take up my possition as a Guardian when ever you would wish it."

"I would seek your permission to use the donations I might come across to construct a place of worship within the boundries of Rosewood."
He knew this was a delicate subject.  He had no wish to distance himself from the temple, but should Kraakis wish converts, it was impractical to expect them to ride a day and a half on a consistant basis.  "At first it might simply be a shrine, but it is my hope with work and faith to turn it into a church true.  A tendril of your choosing, of course would oversee it."

He knew the Eternal Flame had important matters to attend to, but this was something that was weighing upon his mind.  With his answer, or lack there of he returned to his room for an evening in prayer and meditation.  He was exausted but he had much to pray upon.

It took him a moment to realize he was not alone in the room.  When his eyes came across the young woman on his bed... suddenly he was quite aware he was naked beneath the robe he now wore.  "Your pardon.  Should you wish the room, I will find one unoccupied." Were his face not already red from the burns that had consumed his body it would be bright red from his furrious blushing.

Trading in my remaining 1st:s for CLWs.  Divine Favor/Sanctuary
Also trading in my remaining 0:s for cure minors.  Light/Resistance/Detect Magic

16:17, Today: Serol Kinspar rolled 8 using 1d8+4. Serol CLW.
16:17, Today: Serol Kinspar rolled 9 using 1d8+4. Serol CLW.

Total HP gained: 20/38

This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Thu 06 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 435 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Fri 7 Jul 2006
at 02:41
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Mid afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



The woman was long and slender as she luxuriated upon the bed.  Long brown hair with crimson highlights fell loose and unbound about her shoulders working in unison with the sheer red fabric to cover just enough to make one risk a second glance.  Almond shaped eyes the color of honey stared into Serol's.  "I seek to gain your favor, and that of the faith.  I have given myself to Kossuth and now I will give myself to you, his vessel."  The woman sat up letting the red fabric fall from her shoulders to gather about her narrow waist.  "I am yours Serol, let us share the flame together before you must leave."
Serol Kinspar
 player, 271 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Fri 7 Jul 2006
at 12:39
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Serol choked at the large lump in his throat.  His whole face was now a deep shade of red, he could even feel the blush in his ears as his heart pumped furriously.  His eyes drank in the form of the woman as she lounged on his bed.  As she stood and began walking his way he followed her every sway.

Yet when she dropped the scarf it was enough that the cleric was finally able to pull his eyes from the form of the beautiful woman drawing ever closer.  His breath quickened, the scent of her filled his nose and awoke powerful urges in himself.

He looked squarely at the toes of his boots, afraid to look at her, nor dare a look at himself.  He could control his mind, but... his body seemed to be rising of its own accord.  His hands gripped the robe he wore, the only protection he had from being naked in the room with the woman, until his fingers turned white.

He cleared his throat again, forcing a small cough, "I... I'm..." he stammered.  Serol had always been a fine speaker, it was one of the things he prided himself upon, but this was hardly something he trained for.

Serol was young, far younger than he acted most times.  His body and mind seemed to battle for control as the bestial part of him wished nothing more than to throw this woman up against the wall and grant her, her request.  But his mind and will was in control, not that other part, not yet.

"I am but a man." he pleaded with her, hoping she would simply accept this statement and not press the issue further.  He held no illusions she would.  "My strength and power are his." he wet his lips, as they had gone quite dry.  "It is he you should take to your heart."
Dungeon Master
 GM, 438 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Fri 7 Jul 2006
at 15:37
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
"I have Serol, Kossuth is my lord and his flame burns hotly within.  In everything I do his will and seek his favor.  I have toiled relentlessly in this temple to make it a place fit for his eyes when he should look down upon his worshipers.  I have given myself to the flame but..."

"You of all should know the politics of the church.  I fight Kossuth's enemies at large and mine own within this very temple.  Though it pains me to admit it I fear I cannot prevail against both.  I need the favor of those powerful within the church to protect me, to strengthen me, to aid me in the fight against the enemies outside these temple walls, much as Kraakis has shown favor to you."

"Lay with me Serol, let us delight in the heat of our passion, all I ask is your favor.  Tis a small price for this is it not?"  The slender woman rose from the bed letting the scarf fall lightly to the floor.  Her body was perfection save for burn scars upon her hands and feet. Her dedication could not be questioned.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 273 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Fri 7 Jul 2006
at 21:35
Re: Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Second Terrace
Kossuth help me! it was the same phrase he had said earlier today when he realized it was not one but four elementals with whom he would battle.  But now it was said in a very different way.

He could not help but look as she dropped the scarf.  His eyes felt as if they would bulge from his head.  She was beautiful, both in body and spirit.  The marks of Kossuth were clear upon her flesh.

He took an involentary step forward his hand touched the warm flesh of her midsection and the whole thing was intoxicating.  The beastal part of himself raged against the restraints put upon it by his mind and will.  He almost shook with the effort not to simply do as she had repeatedly asked of him.

"Who are you? his voice was a whisper, it was all the strength he could manage to force the words out instead of drinking of her full lips.  He was sure he would have recognized her had he known her.

[Private to Dungeon Master: Okay, couple of questions:
1: I know this falls into the realm of DM knowledge but it should be IC for Serol, what is the faith's view on sex?  I know that some religions (like christianity) view sex as dirty or meant only between a man and wife.  While other religions celebrate the act as a means for mankind to grow closer together.  Is there an "official" Kossuthian standpoint on the issue?

2: I don't know how far you're comfortable going with this.  I realize we're both adults here, but I don't want to cross any lines one way or another.  RP is RP and I respect that.  But it's just as easy to... gloss over the details as well.

Hopefully, you've seen by now I'm a fairly detailed oriented writer.  This type of writing doesn't bother me at all, but it might some.  I'll follow your lead.
]
Dungeon Master
 GM, 440 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Sat 8 Jul 2006
at 03:54
Seduction
"Sarah..."  The woman's name ended as her lips pressed to Serol's.

[Private to Serol Kinspar: Kossuth doesn't strike me as very 'chivalrous' in nature so I'd say there's nothing officially barring a little nookie.

I didn't intend for this to get graphic to any degree, only to make it clear whether Serol was or wasn't seduced and for what reasons.  Mostly this is just to set up some things later in the game.  Go ahead and write whether you accept or not and why and then do a cut scene such as 'they fell to the bed in each other's arms...' or some such.
]
Serol Kinspar
 player, 274 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Sat 8 Jul 2006
at 12:31
Re: Seduction
Serol barely heard the name before her lips were pressed to his, he tried to ask another question, tried to push her away, but instead he found his arms wrapping around her supple body pulling her naked form close.  Their skin was  touching in sveral places including his broad chest, where the robe had slipped open.

She was a follower of Kossuth, that much was clear.  He had struggled with his own politics within the temple, so much so that Vilthanus had almost cost the temple much needed donations from several of the city's wealthiest donners just so Serol himself would fail.  If her heart was true, if her love for Kossuth was as pure as she promised, he saw no reason not to tell her so.  Not to simply assure her, that his love was for Kossuth.  His power struck down enemies to the faith and he would protect any who saught the same, regadless what debt they think she owed him, or hoped he owed her in the morning.  He tried to tell her this, but found to his horror.

That the kiss was the final barrier broken.  All that remained for the cleric was the raw passion and fire that burned so freely in his body.  He was still burned in many places, to the point where it would hurt simply to touch, but in this moment his rational brain seemed to be the one imprissioned.

Like two flames who touch, their passions errupted into a single flame that burned   higher and hotter than any one could hope to alone.  Serol pushed the woman gently but urgently backwards, his lips locked against hers.  Without warning her back was pressed harshly against the wall of the small room hard enough to thump and draw a grunt from the Sarah's body as the impact forced the air from her lungs.  Serol barely heard her, and ravished her where she stood.

Then, when he was panting and sweating from the pain, of her touch upon his still burned skin, and the effort of the actions he bent suddenly lifting her off her feet and placing her gently upon the bed....

This message was last edited by the player at 12:38, Sat 08 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 443 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Mon 10 Jul 2006
at 04:18
Re: Seduction
Flamerule 2, 1373DR
Mid Afternoon
Mild with a light breeze



Serol could hardly be blamed.  Sarah was a stunning woman and had thrown herself at him, her only condition that he speak on her behalf in matters of church politics.  And when it was done Sarah rose from his bed and diappeared out the door.

Rosewood lie a day and half's ride from Iriaebor and judging by the sun's position he may be able to reach there before dark tomorrow if he were to leave immediately.  Though doing so would mean spending a night in the wild injured and weak.

Up to you when you leave.  Unless you wish to pursue any business before leaving you're free to go any time.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 275 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Mon 10 Jul 2006
at 11:23
Re: Seduction
Serol was well and truly exausted when his animal side had finished with Sarah.  He had, since this morning, run through the temple in his attempt to not miss the barge at the docks, fought four elementals and a cleric of the cursed Istishia, made it back to the temple to be almost killed in his accention to the next terris  then spent what remaining strength he had with a beautiful woman whom went to great lengths to see she ended up in his bed.  When Sarah left shortly after the act was finished Serol barely had the strength to open an eye before his head fell heavilly upon the pillow again.

His whole body throbbed, his skin was tender nearly everywhere, but in the heat of the moment that minor concern was cast aside and his body now was suffering for it.  By the time he could rise from his bed and clean himself up he knew it would be far too late to leave for Rosewood.

Serol didn't dispare, he hadn't intended on leaving until after morning prayers anyway.  Spending a night in blisters and pain was an inevitable, but to do so sleeping on the ground and completely defensless in the wood.  Those were thoughts of a sucidal nature.

Yet if he was to depart he knew there were some things he needed to take care of before the rise of the morning sun.  He pushed himself from the bed and made his way over to the pitcher of water and bowl sitting in the corner.  He cleaned himself off as best he could with the room temprature water.  Then donned a new set of small clothes that had been brought up with his armor and over that he dressed in his clerical vestments.  He strapped on his belt and dropped a handful of the platnim coins into his purse.  Finally he picked up the crossbow and bolts and made for the door.

Serol would like to do some shopping.  Please let me know if I can find these things within the temple:
1: Several healing potions.  CLW, CMW couple of each or four CLW if there are no moderates.
2: I want to trade in my crossbow for a Mighty +3 Composite Longbow and Arrows.  Serol learned how the ranged weapons were useful but he also realized the reload time on the crossbow cost him dearly.
3: I'd like to upgrade my Clerical Symbol to the Silver one, instead of wood.  (Did that survive my test anyway?)  Gotta start looking like I belong in this higher level.
4: If they have some nicer vestments, he'll pick those up too (for the aformentioned reason) I'll let you decide how much those will set me back.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 446 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Tue 11 Jul 2006
at 04:30
Re: Seduction
Feel free to acquire/exchange those items (for a suitable donation to the church coffers of course)  :0)
You're free to move to the next day after doing so.  I'll get you on the road with my next post.

Serol Kinspar
 player, 276 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Tue 11 Jul 2006
at 13:05
Re: Seduction
Serol returned to the room only a short time later.  There was no lack of people congradulating him along the way.  But few seemed too interested in holding him up for long.  He made his way to the armory, turning in his crossbow.  The master of the armory then was able to produce for him several bows for him to try.  Most in the temple favored their crossbows for the ease of use, but several found that the slow reload time could be costly in a crunch.

He took several test pulls and eventually settled on one he liked.  A composite bow with a heavy enough pull to utilize his strength.  He placed his crossbow on the counter and paid the difference for the weapon cost to the temple.  He then slipped the longbow into his new quiver full of arrows and slid the whole thing upon his back.

His next stop was not far from here and he made the short trek to clerical supply area.  No one but temple staff and the braziers was allowed into this area.  Not even the wealthy doners or faithful that filled the upstairs chaples during services.  Here he could find vestments, holy symbols and other useful items.

It took him only a few momnents to find the items he was looking for.  The new vestments he selected were silken robes, red as flame and embroidered with a golden thread.  The holy symbol was itentical to his wooden one, except forged from pure silver and leafed in gold to give the dancing flames of Kossuth a two toned look.  He then selected several vials of potions from the stock.  It was a heafty donation, but these potions could save his life without question.  He also knew that as a cleric of Kossuth who had advanced two ranks in as many days, he had to dress the part.  No longer would his threadbare vestments and wooden holy symbol be addiquite for his newfound possition within the church.

Returning with his arms full, Serol carefully stowed his items and spent several minutes in prayer before finally letting sleep claim him, at least until the rinnging bells within the temple announced the forthcoming rising of the sun calling the faithful to prayer.
________________________________________________________________________________

The sounds of the bells snapped Serol's eyes open, it was a testimate to how truely exausted he was that he was not awake before the ringing bells.  It took him only moments to rise and splash water upon his face wetting down his hair and slicking it back with a hand.

He then took to dressing in his new vestments his new holy symbol drapped around his neck as he proudly made his way to morning prayers, a small surprise in his pocket.

The prayers were as they always were, the whole of the temple facing south as they praised the rising of the sun in the name of the glorious Kossuth.  Serol, had arrived too late to find a spot closest to the flame, although his skin was still red from his test yesterday.  He knelt and embraced the flame within his mind.

"Almighty Kossuth," he intoned in the language of fire, "today your servant begins the journey back to Rosewood to take up the mantle once more of Guardian.  I seek your blessing on this journey and this task as I will once more spread the good works you would have done in your name on Toril.  May my actions shine like a beckon to the lost, the confused and the worthy.  May my sacrifices of body and blood sew the faith amoung my fellow men.  May you grant me your infinate wisdom in how best to serve you and forge my actions to your desire through test and reward.  Yours are the power and the glory."

Serol revled in the flame both within in mind and the one warming his already sensitive skin.  He communed in silent praise and thanks to the god whom he loved so much.  It was only after several minutes that Serol finished and stood.

His eyes searched those gathered.  He hoped to catch sight of Sarah, but she was not the one for whom he looked.  After scanning the whole of the area, he saw him.  They were now all in the proccess of finishing their morning prayers.  Some still sat in silence, like Serol had done.  Others were beginning to stand and making their ways toward the duties that Kossuth had placed before them.

Serol jogged through the throng until he caught up.  He then spoke his voice firm with an edge of command.  "You there.  Stop."

A young boy's face turned to look at his a mixture of fear and reverence in his eyes when he saw who it was that had called him to halt.  A look, Serol mused, that would not have been out of place on his own face, were their roles reversed.

"You're the young man who helped me yesterday.  Your swiftness to the stables made my arrival at the docks possible."  The large cleric then knelt.  It was an awkward possition.  Standing Serol loomed over the young boy, but kneeling upon one knee he was not tall enough to look him in the eye.  Deciding it didn't matter, Serol simply reached into his pocket and produced his wooden holy symbol he had taken from his room this morning.

"This holy symbol has seen me through my training at the temple, my oaths of Loyalty to the Flame.  It has seen the destrcution of goblins and undead and the defeat of water elementals and a cleric of Istishia.  It has been with me through two Oaths of Firewalking." he pressed it into the boy's hand with both of his.  "May it bring you the same fortune it has brought to me."

Finishing with his last task within the temple, Serol bid the young man goodbye and made his way to the room he had been assigned.  He gathered his belongings and strapped on his armor before making for the stables.  He had a long trip ahead of him.  On his way, he called upon the powers of Kossuth to remove the final signs of his near death experience yesterday.

I think I'm ready to go.  When I make it to the stables, he'll have someone help him with his armor while Dnae is being saddled and barded, then he'll be on his way again.

He'll trade in Bless and Sancturary for CLW.  I only rolled one as, it put me within 4 hp of max.  I'll get 1d8+4 on my other so I just assumed max hp.
09:02, Today: Serol Kinspar rolled 10 using 1d8+4. Serol CLW.


This message was last edited by the player at 21:07, Tue 11 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 449 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
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Tue 11 Jul 2006
at 21:45
Leaving Iriaebor
Flamerule 3, 1373DR
Nightfall



The young man could not hide his newfound awe for Serol.  Yesterday Serol had been nothing more than his superior in the church to be pleased at all costs. Today, after witnessing Serol's Oath, he was the boy's hero.  "Thank you."  was all the young man could manage until Serol had departed at which point the boy shouted "The blessings of Kossuth upon you brother!"

The temple stables were usually quiet and today was no exception.  Other than the stablehands and acolytes who oversaw them Serol was the only one present.  As usual their aid to the priests was impeccable and soon Serol was armored and mounted atop his new horse.  He could not help but think of Vael and where he might now be.

Serol's departure was watched by many sets of eyes that morning.  High above, standing upon the highest terrace of the ziggurat style temple Kraakis watched one of his most promising young priests ride off to do the Firelord's bidding.  Sarah too took note of Serol's leaving though only briefly as Vilthanus' gaze suddenly found her from where he himself watched sending her scurrying back to her duties as Flamewarden of the upper courtyard.  Those outside the temple watched too.  Serol had found himself the object of the thieves guild surveillence since his attempt at retaking Vael.  But perhaps most unusual and unexpected were the pair of elven eyes that watched with keen interest before disappearing into an alleyway.

Exitting the gate the roads nearest Iriaebor were paved with flagstone quarried from long-dried riverbeds nearby and Dnae moved smoothly along them.  By noon Serol had left the paving behind as well as many of the travellers on the road and by late afternoon the road had disintegrated into a rutted trail.  By nightfall it could at best be described as a dirt trail.  It was nearly dark and Serol's travels had so far been uneventful.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 278 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Tue 11 Jul 2006
at 23:31
Re: Leaving Iriaebor
Serol's shoulderblades itched, he was hardly used to being watched by so many.  He  knew well the thieves guild probably had those who would take an interest in his commings and goings.  He just hoped that the guild leaders would deem him, 'not worth the trouble'.  After all, news of his deeds on the river would soon be filling all the eager eyes and ears about the city, if they hadn't already.  Serol had made no real offense and he had after all, 'paid' for his own horse.  Should they wish it, Serol would grant them the fight they saught should they wish it.  If not, he was willng to accept the theft of his own horse, the money spent to try and buy him back, and walk away with only a chip on his own shoulder to show for it.

Always look forward. that was what the Eternal Flame had said, so far it had gained him much.  He just hoped the thieves guild had a leader who issued such good advice.

He had ridden all day upon the lonely road, his only companion his newfound steed.  He would occasionally reach over to pat her neck affectionatly just to remind her of his companionship upon the road.  He hoped it was appreciated as much by her as it was by him.

His thoughts drifted from time to time upon the road.  Though it was hardly unexpected with the slow progression of time as he made his way ever closer to Rosewood.  He wondered how he might find his fellow Guardians.  He had much to tell them, and wondered if they had anywhere near the adventures he did while he was away.  He looked forward to a night in the commonroom at the Red Rose, especially when his thoughts turned towards his inevitable night alone on the road again.

His thoughts turned towards Sarah, he knew so little about the woman.  She had hardly been interested in 'talking'.  But his mind replayed the actions of their night of passion more than once upon the lonely road.  He hadn't been able to help her, or even say goodbye.  He wondered what she expected him to do for her, as she surely knew that life as a Brazier must take him away from the Temple.

A glance up at the sky told him he had best look for a camp site.  It would be growing dark soon and he could not risk Dnae breaking a leg in the dark.  He disliked the idea of another night alone in the wood, especially given what happened the last time.  But he had little choice.

Finding a suitable spot, he dismounted Dnae and did what he could to cover the tracks they had made making their way off the main road.  He built himself a small fire but sheltered it from the road by a half circle of brush set back far enough to prove little risk of a spark catching it.  He hoped from the road, there would be little evidence he camped nearby.

He then saw to Dnae, removing here saddle and barding.  He rubbed her down with some dry grass to mop up the sweat and brushed her carefully before draping her blanket over her giving her enough lead line to graze on the grass should she wish to.  He spoke another word to his horse, one he hoped a potential thief might find unexpected.  "Guard" he said quietly indicating she was to guard herself and the bundle of equipment between her and the tree she was teathered to.

He then settled himself down upon the ground and made a meal of some of the food he could find and water.  Before bedding himself, still in his armor, for what he knew would be an uncomfortable night's rest.

I made a survival roll for the counter-tracking/fire hiding and food finding.  If you would prefer I could roll 3 seperate rolls, but I figured "survival" indicates your ability to survive and as I'm not surviving in the wild for 3 days one roll would do.  Please let me know if I'm in error.

16:29, Today: Serol Kinspar rolled 19 using 1d20+7. Survival.

This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Tue 11 July 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 456 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Mon 17 Jul 2006
at 04:02
Returning to Guardianship
Flamerule 4, 1373DR
Midday



The night was uneventful and Serol awoke just before dawn as his body was conditioned to do.  His rest was far from refreshing as he was forced to lie stiffly on the ground in his platemail armor but it was enough to keep him awake and alert for the remainder of the ride to Rosewood.

That ride too proved uneventful which Serol attributed to Kossuth's blessings as he had seen the myriad of dangers that lurked around Rosewood.  Just before noon Serol crested a small hill and spotted Lathander's temple at the eastern edge of Rosewood.  He had arrived safely.

Thus concludes your mini.  Please join up with the others in the new thread, The Guardians Reunited.
link to a message in "3.5 DnD - Guardians of Rosewood"