[HQ Ignorance] Re : Scene 39: Travelling on the Deu River

[Loran]

Curious, Azhur listened careful to his retainer’s song and wondered how the evil sorcerer Humct of past mythical ages could still inspire such devotion among pagans, then this thought sounded false to him. If the Doctrine of the New Hrestoli Chruch was absolutely right on everything, why wasn’t its wisdom shared by everyone? Could pagan cults contain even a small seed of truth?

Tapped by this sudden doubt over days and days of self-questioning and skepticism, Azhur massed his temples and looked at the raveling banks of the river. His joy for life was long dead, only remained his sense of duty. If he had had the time to become an apprentice of the Battle Seers Order, he would have learned useful magics for such situation, but he was just a battle ground liturgist, left with just an holy book in which he could hardly fully believe… What was his blessed copy of the Good King Siglat’s First Truth saying about Malkioni peoples turning to Vampires?

Azhur checked the pages about curses on Apostates (and quivered by noting that he could soon also become one by now), checked the pages about curses on Enemies and also on Murderers. Soldiers of Nolos were gathering all this three sins together, deserving also to be excommunicated from the Holy Church of the One God.

Azhur tried to pray for moral strength as he used to do in his early days of youth, but the imaginary smiling face of his naive and happy faith in God (that, in his mind, somewhat shared some features of his own father) didn’t appear. The Could-Be God was absent for him and this left Azhur in great despair. Taking a great inspiration, he forced himself to smile and to paint an air of confidence on his face.

- “With all those who wish the end of the Nolos Vampires in this boat, I will organize a ceremony to help the good persons to fight against the evil ones. Together we will send our prayers to the Great Creator, whatever the name you give him, to curse our enemies, these filthy murderers and apostates who have broken their knighthood vows to become Monstrous Children of the Night. I have heard your pleading, SwordSinger, but no cause deserve to sell his soul to the abominable void of Chaos, and they merit our rejection. I will ask our faith to strike the first vampire that dares to oppose us until the end of next week and I will do this ceremony again and again until our quest is released from their threat!”

Azhur didn’t precise to his friends that he feared now to be abandoned by God and that their prayers would be probably wasted because directed by an agnostic sinner.

Curses:
- Use First truth Copy 13
- Community support ?
- Guardian support ?
- Worship God 17 (but skepticism 13?)
- Try Harder 17



----- Message d'origine ----
De : Lev Lafayette <lev_lafayette at yahoo.com.au>
À : HeroQuest Glorantha <ignorance at mimesisrpg.com>
Envoyé le : Dimanche, 18 Novembre 2007, 13h38mn 10s
Objet : [HQ Ignorance] Scene 39: Travelling on the Deu River


The rump Fellowship chanced upon a barge heading along
the Deu River towards Seguarane. It was captained by
an strong Iron Dwarf with a blue-black beard named
Ivar Rivermann, who was less than pleased of your
planned destination. He carried a cargo of iron and
bronze ore, peat and coal.

"Many ill changes have occurred downstream", he
gruffly exclaimed. "The old city is surrounded by some
cancerous Aldramyi growth which now stands between the
armies of Seshnela and Railos - and I was hoping to
make a tidy profit from the humans battering each
other again. Bah!". He seems ignorant of your
knowledge of the Wolf Brothers and the Undead that
have swept from the South. He changes a most
outrageous fare, that only Anzhur can afford with
relative ease.

Aboard the barge, gazing downstream Swordsinger began
a low chant.

    Come all you Humacti men and a sorrowful tale I'll
tell,
    The story of a decent Spirit who through
misfortune fell,
    His name it was Vivamort, a spirit of high renown,
    Who had to flee his station, and like a Gorp
brought down.

    For years he g'rded the Underworld, and he showed
Eurmal some fun,
    By bringing Death to the world, A curse that could
not be undone.
    Chased by the Sun, He slept with Disease,
    Wounded by the Devil, He'd never have release.

    V'mort dealt with the Devil, and that was his
downfall
    For riddled like a sieve was all of 'is soul,
    'Twixt annhilition or chaos, he chose the latter
way
    And now he sucks the Power, from those asleep they
lay.


With great surprise, the jovial Humacti seems
genuinely sad, and his eyes are even bleary.

"Do not think we of St. Humacti take pleasure in
destroying the sentient Undead. 'Tis true, that one
can have little concern for abonimations like Zombies
or animated Skeletons. But with the children of
Vivamort, the former keeper of the great secret of
Death, we do have some affinity. He is our opposite in
so many ways, and yet he is also the first guardian of
our truth. 'Twas his foolish curiosity that led him to
a such a tragedy, and although it seems to many that
his children relish their existence, I cannot believe
that being separated from the creation itself and the
recycle of essence is one that any choose without
great internal sadness."

"I know not whether this will help you if you must
confront their armies. I shall of course, fight by
your side with great competence, enthusiasm and magics
of great utility."


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