St. Marsaen, Patron of Mercy and Martyrdom
I awoke to the light of the setting sun piercing through the shutters of my shared quarters. I looked around the room and saw that Mullenkedheim sat across the room at a desk reading some of the books that he checked out for me. The act of sitting upright drew his attention. He continued reading but raised a finger in a request to stay quiet while he searched the pages.
“Ah, here it is!” He said pointing to a full-page picture of a small boy lying dead in front of a crying girl of approximately the same age. The next page was the picture of the boy rising the castle with flaming wings. “Now I see it. You are the spitting image of Marsaen. Returned to life as a gift for your noble sacrifice.”
“From what I have gathered a noble sacrifice needs no gift to be completed, it would sully the act.” I gave as a retort.
“Well said Squire Finnus, well said.” Mullenkedheim applauded. ” I still find it uncanny that you have his face and my vision of you rising above us with wings of fire. The divine work in strange ways.”
“I mean not to offend you, but I believe they work in strange ways because they are pieces in the same game we play in. Their actions come from others.” I countered again.
“Nilissa had said something remarkably similar not long ago. ” He said scratching his head. “You two are oddly alike.”
“I can see the similarities,” I confirmed begrudgingly. I was not comfortable with the Archpaladin being my peer given her ability to see the truth with her gift. “How long was I out for?”
“Well the others will be returning from their combat drills momentarily.” Mullenkedheim said. “You were out about half the day. Strange that the information caused such a strong reaction. There was another who was believed to be a second coming of this beloved saint, he roams the country with a treacherous necromancer of grave reputation. It drives the Queen mad thinking that her love could be one of the Rebels out in the free cities trying to undue her great plan. I think it is you though. I think you are Marsaen.”
“What would it mean if I am?” I pondered aloud.
“Well it would make your oath ceremony rather interesting.” Mullenkedheim confessed. “The Queen will undoubtedly have questions when she sees your face.” He paused again looking at the picture of a perfect portrait portrayed in the pages of his book. ” Interesting is not necessarily a bad thing. There have been a lot of changes in this country since The Queen has begun her rule. The usage of the elementals to subjugate the people, the failed attempt at creating an army of the dead to eliminate the Dwarves, and the most ridiculous thing of all, Holding a golden dragon youngling to be sacrificed during the eclipse at the end of summer.”
“Mullenkedheim, I think I can trust you.” I said. “I am the second coming of Marsaen.” This caused him to cheer, but I looked to him and gave him the hand signal to wait a moment that he had given me moments before. “I am also the “Rouge Paladin” that marches with the Necromancer Morgul. It is true. He resurrected me and the others so that we may put an end to the Queen’s plan. He created an army of the dead and it has been wandering around the Dwarven capital preventing them from leaving their mountain cities. The Clerics are enslaving the elementals to put down rebellions across Sovereign. I was at The Battle of Skaryhorn. I saw them burn the village to the ground. I am here at the behest of Uther, God-dragon of Light. I must prevent that sacrifice, I must prevent The End of Days.“
Mullenkedhiem froze in place. He looked like he was going to say something, but then he fainted. “Oh great” I contested. I held my hands to his torso and poured positive energy into him. Slowly he regained consciousness.
“Finnus, I mean Marsaen, or what do you prefer to be called?” Mullenkedhiem blurted.
“I prefer to go by Cinredi.” I said calmly. “And I would very much prefer if we did not have to fight.”
“Fight? Oh no, we would not have to do that. How can I help you? Why are you here alone? Where are your allies?” Mullenkedheim questioned rapidly. If this is how it felt to be on the other side of one of my tirades I would have to apologize to Morgul the next time I saw him.
“Well, I am here to see the Castle, the fortifications, learn plans, sabotage what I can and most importantly find the Lordling.” I answered.
“The Lordling?” Mullenkedheim question again.
“Yes, the young dragon that they are holding here. I think they could have workshopped the name a little more but The Crows are not exactly known for their creativity.” The perplexed look on the older Paladin’s face clued me in that I had a lot of explaining to do. “Alright, if you are going to help me, you need to know the truth.”