Rebirth, Renew, Restore.
Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2020 4:07 pm
Volume One: History
Hope and I arrived in Cordor to preach the word of the Holy Sun, the dawn that will end all nights, and I could not have anticipated the charge before us. We had expected to join an order of Knights, to fight alongside them against evil foes, and to preach the word of redemption through fire and service. Instead, the foes that beset the island were far more insidious and ancient, devoid of a face and a name. Despair and cynicism. We are truly blessed, for they are powerless in front of true believers.
The first we heard of our brothers and sisters in faith was not the Radiant Heart, nor the Gauntlet, nor the Knights of the Road. Not even our own church of Lathander, sun be upon him, which was but two members who said the view of the church was damaged in the eyes of laymen. Before all this we were introduced time and again to the tale of Light Keep. We heard many myths and rumors, and it became clear that this was what we were seen as. This is what paladins were on the island. Fallen heroes, refugees from a better world.
So we investigated. We spoke to elves that had been alive at the time the keep fell, spoke to descendants of those who had once served the Triad's city. Each revelation was worse than the last. The question is not "How did Benwick fall?" The question is how did it not fall sooner. Vassalized to fiendish warlocks and the underdark. Drow walked its streets. Its heroes were either corrupt or so inept as to be worse than willing pawns of evil. The truth of it is hidden under so many layers of shame, so many righteous souls who do what they can to try to preserve the illusion that Benwick fought to the end. But it is a lie, and to lie is to sin.
So we turned to redemption, to tomorrow. Why had eighty years passed without change? Attempts had been made to retake the city or alter the gate. Six that we know of, marking us as the holy seventh. Each time the story is a little different. Most end with the righteous betrayed from within, over-eager for allies and uncritical of their fellows, or turning upon each other in suspicion and distrust. Some are simply efforts made by evil itself, ultimately not successful for there are easier ways to power. The first attempt of note to us is the Sword of the Light. Granted by holy Celestia and eventually finding itself in the hands of Berenor Silverwind, it was said to be able to close the gate, but was instead wielded against the plane of shadow until it's wielder was corrupted, killed, and the sword eventually destroyed into shards that even then had been lost. It only serves us now as a cautionary tale.
Second, and more promising, was the tale of Amadeo Pnuema, who knew of the planes as a result of the construction of the Astrolabe. Rumors were that he was in possession of a number of holy beads, part of a greater artifact that could attune the gate elsewhere. So we left in search of him, leaving marble signs upon each planar connection to the machine-gate.
We were opposed in this task through words and deeds. I believe that ignorance, not evil, guided most of the hands against us. Others came forward to tell us they thought Amadeo dead or gone, involved in a purge aimed at the Harpers. We will continue to maintain the stones, continue to hope, but we must go forward without him. And so the next step of the plan is considered. There were no artifacts, no easy routes, no final solutions. Just us and the dawn against darkness.
-Faith Solarheart, Hammer 24, 167 AR.
Hope and I arrived in Cordor to preach the word of the Holy Sun, the dawn that will end all nights, and I could not have anticipated the charge before us. We had expected to join an order of Knights, to fight alongside them against evil foes, and to preach the word of redemption through fire and service. Instead, the foes that beset the island were far more insidious and ancient, devoid of a face and a name. Despair and cynicism. We are truly blessed, for they are powerless in front of true believers.
The first we heard of our brothers and sisters in faith was not the Radiant Heart, nor the Gauntlet, nor the Knights of the Road. Not even our own church of Lathander, sun be upon him, which was but two members who said the view of the church was damaged in the eyes of laymen. Before all this we were introduced time and again to the tale of Light Keep. We heard many myths and rumors, and it became clear that this was what we were seen as. This is what paladins were on the island. Fallen heroes, refugees from a better world.
So we investigated. We spoke to elves that had been alive at the time the keep fell, spoke to descendants of those who had once served the Triad's city. Each revelation was worse than the last. The question is not "How did Benwick fall?" The question is how did it not fall sooner. Vassalized to fiendish warlocks and the underdark. Drow walked its streets. Its heroes were either corrupt or so inept as to be worse than willing pawns of evil. The truth of it is hidden under so many layers of shame, so many righteous souls who do what they can to try to preserve the illusion that Benwick fought to the end. But it is a lie, and to lie is to sin.
So we turned to redemption, to tomorrow. Why had eighty years passed without change? Attempts had been made to retake the city or alter the gate. Six that we know of, marking us as the holy seventh. Each time the story is a little different. Most end with the righteous betrayed from within, over-eager for allies and uncritical of their fellows, or turning upon each other in suspicion and distrust. Some are simply efforts made by evil itself, ultimately not successful for there are easier ways to power. The first attempt of note to us is the Sword of the Light. Granted by holy Celestia and eventually finding itself in the hands of Berenor Silverwind, it was said to be able to close the gate, but was instead wielded against the plane of shadow until it's wielder was corrupted, killed, and the sword eventually destroyed into shards that even then had been lost. It only serves us now as a cautionary tale.
Second, and more promising, was the tale of Amadeo Pnuema, who knew of the planes as a result of the construction of the Astrolabe. Rumors were that he was in possession of a number of holy beads, part of a greater artifact that could attune the gate elsewhere. So we left in search of him, leaving marble signs upon each planar connection to the machine-gate.
We were opposed in this task through words and deeds. I believe that ignorance, not evil, guided most of the hands against us. Others came forward to tell us they thought Amadeo dead or gone, involved in a purge aimed at the Harpers. We will continue to maintain the stones, continue to hope, but we must go forward without him. And so the next step of the plan is considered. There were no artifacts, no easy routes, no final solutions. Just us and the dawn against darkness.
-Faith Solarheart, Hammer 24, 167 AR.