Supplemental - Upon contemplation of The Bleeding
As I set in Silver Spire, a few moments have found me in the quiet of the night, with the patter of rain upon the roof of the tavern where we have found refuge for the night. An ill-gained reputation seems to precede us, and unearned, yet it is thus, and our welcome is to be short-lived.
Sleep comes reluctantly. Max slumbers, as does the rest of our band who share the large quarters above the public house. Thus far my single candle flame bothers none.
As we have ventured I have had time to reflect. Only days before we set out, Tyr summoned me to his arena while my shell slept. His training ground was large, perfectly round, and surrounded by risers with his saints that have died in glorious combat. Upon seven points of the arena stood his archangels. Each was armed with a different weapon:
An elf carried a bow of golden wood in a cloak of green;
A human in brown robes bore a two-hand sword;
A halfing, in grey, bore a sling;
A second Human, wearing crimson, carried a long halberd the length of a short pine;
A dwarf, not unlike myself yet wearing blue hoisted a battleax like the one may father bore;
A second elf, black as pitch with like garments, with white hair and red eyes sharpened a dagger with a blackened blade;
And lastly, a figure whose form I did not know carried a blade unlike any I had seen as if the lighting had been harnessed and set within a silver hilt. Of all of the beings whether they were male or female I could tell, but not this last warrior with the lighting blade.
As I looked on, each held their weapon a-front, as if in salute, and they nodded.
And behold, a voice announced:
"Before you stands Rathgaard of Stonewarden, who soon will make The Eighth.
"Upon the terra firma, he has been tested and has proven worthy. Now here upon my grounds, he will be tested by The Seven."
I found myself in the arena surrounded by the warriors of Tyr. First came The Bow, whose arrows I dodged with the training of youth. Then came The Sword, whose blade cast blue sparks when I parried with my hammer. Thirdly The Sling, whose bullets sounded like hornets - those I dodge as well. Fourth The Halberd whose long shaft allowed a reach that no hammer could match, yet I disarmed him by a quick step which drove the halberd to the ground. Fifthly, The Dwarven Axe, and here the battle went long, yet I triumphed when the steel blade cracked. Each match continued, and The One Who Wielded Lighting watched. In the bout, I did not notice that The Black Blade did not advance, yet she was not in her place either - until I felt a piercing in my back, and Black Blade came through my chest. The vision of red blood and black steel lingered when the One Who Wielded Lighting shouted, "ENOUGH!
"You have done well. No other has bested The Seven, yet honor has been bested by dishonor. This will be your undoing, so beware."
With that, he nodded, and the elf with the black blade touched her weapon and it faded as if doused in a caustic liquid. Shortly, the wound closed with little more than a scar, smaller than those earned in other seasons of my life.
"Rathgaard of Stonewarden, rise and return to your place," echoed a bodiless voice, the one I had heard upon first arriving in the presence of The Seven. "Return and carry on the calling I have for you. 'Honor First; Death Second!"
And I awoke.
****
I awoke in a sweat and mine muscles ached, and for a moment I searched for the wound in my chest. There was no hole or piercing, yet the coverlet that draped me was ragged as if burned by a flame where it covered the place that the black blade cut.
This quest, I feel, will give me answers as to the purpose of this vision, this Bleeding. Thine mysteries, Tyr, are great.
Rathgaard's Journal Ordered oldest to newest
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Journey once again to the Silver Spire...
Five years, 20 days since the banishment of the Green City
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Supplemental - Upon contemplation of The Bleeding
Evening in the Shivering Keep, upon our journey southward
Five years, 20 days since the banishment of the Green City
Evening in the Shivering Keep, upon our journey southward
The major events and journals in Rathgaard's history, from the beginning to today.
The list of amazing people following the adventures of Rathgaard.
Social
Birthplace
Stonewarden, The Westermeath, in the North of Mydian
Current Residence
The Cathedral of Tyr, in the Green City. Continent Unknown.
Contacts & Relations
Max, a former librarian and acolyte of Tyr
Hannibal, former captain of the guard in the Silver Spire, a former acolyte of Tyr, currently the Bishop of the Quivering Keep.
Honorary & Occupational Titles
The Most Reverend Knight of Tyr
Family Ties
None in the Green City; Related to most of the Dwarves of Westermeath
Religious Views
Church of Tyr
Social Aptitude
A dwarf of few words, yet his actions speak volumes. Many have been moved to action by his leadership through combat.
Hobbies & Pets
None.
Speech
He bears the brogue of Westermeath.