Bloodrose
04-23-10, 03:18 PM
Solo endeavor.
Denebriel - Matron Saint of the Church of Ethereal Sway - lay dead, and like any news of such magnitude, word of her demise spread like wildfire on the lips of every man, woman, and child who still drew breath in the Northlands.
"Impossible!" One would have expected the naysayers and faithful to respond immediately. "You can't kill a god!"
Perhaps you could, and perhaps you couldn't, but whatever the case may be, Denebriel had proven less than godly in her final moments. With her cathedral brought down in ruins around her, cut off from the Tap, and having expended the life-sustaining energies of her most devout, the Saint had been revealed for what she truly was: a mortal sorceress (albeit a powerful one), with illusions of grandeur made manifest. One almost had to admire the subtlety and craft involved in raising a lie to the station of a state-sponsored, honest to Gods religion, but like any illusion predicated on a lie, it all began to unravel under the strain of the truth.
Overnight, everyone and everything that relied on Denebriel's power to sustain them was stripped of that which made them special. Clerics found themselves unable to heal the sick and bring comfort to the dying. Priests, those men and women who held the power to inspire with their words, found that their sermons no longer roused the faithful. Paladins - bearing arms and armors enchanted with the strength of their faith - found their weapons and shields as dull and inert as any steel. The rebellion even, once fierce enough to incite and sustain a civil war with the Crown, found the wind taken from its sails with the Saint's passing.
Despite the religious overtones of the war, it could not be denied that the majority of the Church's armies were comprised of conscripted men; local militias and serfs that answered the call of those barons who sided with the Sway. Of the barons even, it was unlikely many sided with Denebriel on account of spiritual fervor. More was the likelihood that these nobles had aligned themselves with the Sway under the assumption that a god could not lose a war with a mortal king. Grateful, of course, would have been the Church when they proved victorious, and these greedy nobles would have doubtlessly turned that gratitude into increased personal holdings.
Unfortunately for them, greed was not a viable excuse for treason now that King Iorlan was poised to win the war. Rather than wait for the Royalists to consolidate their forces and come after them, and recognizing what a crippling blow the loss of Denebriel was to their cause, most of the traitorous gentry fled the country. Leaderless, their conscripted armies quickly disbanded after Iorlan wisely offered amnesty to any common man who lay down his arms and returned to his home.
Yes, with the undeniable and impossible to conceal death of Denebriel came a swift and sudden close to the bitter war that had ravaged Salvar for a little over two years. It would likely be months before the freshly reinvigorated Royalists cleared every pocket of remaining resistance, but at least now the country could begin the long and arduous task of rebuilding...
Denebriel - Matron Saint of the Church of Ethereal Sway - lay dead, and like any news of such magnitude, word of her demise spread like wildfire on the lips of every man, woman, and child who still drew breath in the Northlands.
"Impossible!" One would have expected the naysayers and faithful to respond immediately. "You can't kill a god!"
Perhaps you could, and perhaps you couldn't, but whatever the case may be, Denebriel had proven less than godly in her final moments. With her cathedral brought down in ruins around her, cut off from the Tap, and having expended the life-sustaining energies of her most devout, the Saint had been revealed for what she truly was: a mortal sorceress (albeit a powerful one), with illusions of grandeur made manifest. One almost had to admire the subtlety and craft involved in raising a lie to the station of a state-sponsored, honest to Gods religion, but like any illusion predicated on a lie, it all began to unravel under the strain of the truth.
Overnight, everyone and everything that relied on Denebriel's power to sustain them was stripped of that which made them special. Clerics found themselves unable to heal the sick and bring comfort to the dying. Priests, those men and women who held the power to inspire with their words, found that their sermons no longer roused the faithful. Paladins - bearing arms and armors enchanted with the strength of their faith - found their weapons and shields as dull and inert as any steel. The rebellion even, once fierce enough to incite and sustain a civil war with the Crown, found the wind taken from its sails with the Saint's passing.
Despite the religious overtones of the war, it could not be denied that the majority of the Church's armies were comprised of conscripted men; local militias and serfs that answered the call of those barons who sided with the Sway. Of the barons even, it was unlikely many sided with Denebriel on account of spiritual fervor. More was the likelihood that these nobles had aligned themselves with the Sway under the assumption that a god could not lose a war with a mortal king. Grateful, of course, would have been the Church when they proved victorious, and these greedy nobles would have doubtlessly turned that gratitude into increased personal holdings.
Unfortunately for them, greed was not a viable excuse for treason now that King Iorlan was poised to win the war. Rather than wait for the Royalists to consolidate their forces and come after them, and recognizing what a crippling blow the loss of Denebriel was to their cause, most of the traitorous gentry fled the country. Leaderless, their conscripted armies quickly disbanded after Iorlan wisely offered amnesty to any common man who lay down his arms and returned to his home.
Yes, with the undeniable and impossible to conceal death of Denebriel came a swift and sudden close to the bitter war that had ravaged Salvar for a little over two years. It would likely be months before the freshly reinvigorated Royalists cleared every pocket of remaining resistance, but at least now the country could begin the long and arduous task of rebuilding...