|Improbable Supplication (standard:fantasy, 2283 words)|
|Author: Peacepipe||Added: Mar 15 2004||Views/Reads: 2902/1858||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|This story is about a paladin who discovers corruption within his temple. It is a short-story, about 5 pages long.|
Improbable Supplication Serasius walked steadily down the marble atrium towards the large, wooden door leading to the High Cleric's office. Serasius was nervous, there was no denying the fact. He could feel the sweat begin to bead on his shaven head as he drew closer to his meeting with Gerron, the High Cleric of the Temple of Heironeous. Yet despite all the uneasiness Serasius felt, there was a strong sense of security within his soul that kept his booted feet moving towards that door. Serasius knew Heironeous was with him, guiding and watching him at this very moment. Finally, Serasius found himself at the large wooden door to Gerron's quarters. He drew a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door before him. "Enter," a voice called from the other side. Serasius looked down at the holy symbol on the hilt of his sword, "Heironeous, lend me your strength." Serasius pushed open the large door and entered the office of Gerron. His eyes quickly glanced at his new surroundings. It had been almost three years since Serasius had been in this room, and much had changed in that time. Serasius remembered a warm, brightly-lit room, adorned with symbols and relics dedicated to Heironeous. What lay before him now was a dim chamber closely resembling a prison, dark and cold. The High Cleric had changed much in the last years. Just three years ago, Gerron had been a proud Cleric of the Invincible, but much like his dwelling, he was just a shadow of his former glory. Granted, the seat of High Cleric had been bestowed upon Gerron over a year ago, but the man Serasius saw was an obese, overdressed bureaucrat, not the proud and devoted cleric of Serasius' memories. And from what Serasius had heard of Gerron's recent exploits, not just his appearance had been altered in Serasius' absence. Gerron looked up from the parchment he was reading, and upon seeing Serasius, smiled warmly, "Ah, welcome m' lad. It has been quite awhile hasn't it?" he asked. "It has," Serasius said blandly, "I love what you have done with the place." Gerron laughed heartily, "You always were quite the card, weren't you." "That's me, a barrel of laughs," Serasius said remembering a phrase his father always used to say to him as a child. The High Cleric stood up and walked around his desk to stand in front of Serasius. "What happened to you Serasius?" Gerron asked staring straight into the dark man's eyes, his jovial manner turned suddenly into a look of scorn. "I fear I do not understand what you mean master," Serasius said while biting on a particularly annoying hangnail. The High Cleric just glared at Serasius unerringly, "You were my pride, boy. From the day I met you I knew you were destined for greatness, to perform deeds the sages would write about, and acts of courage the bards would be able to put into their finest tales." Gerron turned from Serasius and headed back around his desk, "You were gifted beyond your peers. Your talents were innumerable, and your possibilities were endless." Gerron sat back down in his chair. "You were the greatest Paladin this temple had ever produced." Serasius stopped chewing on his fingernail and looked over at his former mentor, "What is your point Gerron." Click here to read the rest of this story (247 more lines)
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