Post by spyd3r97344 on Jun 2, 2017 22:36:51 GMT -5
At the dim lit campfire hardly enough for a meal so if you desire, that's not the appetite now is for intrigue. This is a Tale of the past whilst still young.. It was a marvelous parade to remember, was hardly a bore.
A small army of priests wrapped in dark purple robes led the way. They chanted a prayer to Cyric, their voices rising and falling with their steps. Four across a twenty-five deep, the lines passed with military precision.
The prayer at an end, the priest-horde held their hands up to the clear winter sky in one final burst of devoted worship. Silver bracelets, symbols of their enslavement to the Prince of Lies, glinted brightly in the morning sunlight. "O Master of the Heavens and the Earth, we are yours to wield against heretics, living swords to smite unbelievers!"
Behind the chanting priests came a long line of creatures, both rare and common. The people in the marketplace perked up at the sight of the beasts. They'd given the clerics a respectful sort of attention, conducting their transactions at somewhat less that a shout, but even the merchants paused in hawking their overpriced foods, cheap gin, and threadbare linens to watch the procession of animals.
A barker cried stridently. His clean white clothes and scrubbed face made him stand out amidst the grubby commoners and travel-stained merchants.
Five bears led the way. They'd been roused from their winter hibernation by some overzealous hunter. Now they lumbered along, their mouths muzzled shut, a canvas sack fastened to around each paw. Like most of the creatures in the parade, the bears were kept away from the crowd by bored-looking soldiers, who held short leashes or thick oak switches.
A huge carnivorous ape followed, along with a tiger, a motley collection of wolves, and a man-sized lizard dredged up from some subterranean lair. Its eyes were sightless, pale white and squinting against the morn. Next came a pair of lions and a gigantic wild boar, neither of which had been captured anywhere near Zhentil Keep.
A trio of spear-toting soldiers prodded a Minotaur along. Children taunted the great bull-headed guardian of lost tombs and labyrinths, waving bits of red cloth to catch its attention. The Minotaur nearly got away from its handlers when a drunken man got too close. He'd been trying to tantalize the starving beast with a chunk of stale bread, but the Minotaur would have taken the man's arm right up to the elbow, if it had been given half a chance.
"You've nothing to fear," the barker shouted, noting the disquiet in the faces of the people nearest to the Minotaur. "So long as you're faithful to Cyric, no harm will come your way."
On a cart drawn by an elephant, a mermaid shivered in a huge tank of water. The scales on his fish's tale were dark with some disease, the muscles on his human torso flabby from captivity. He stared out at the crowd with pleading eyes.
The prize attraction came next, a very young white dragon. The wyrm was festooned with chains and surrounded by a dozen brawny warriors. it couldn't have been more than ten feet long from its blunted snout to the tip of it's tail, with wings that had been clipped to prevent the beast from flying away. As it moved along, the dragon pulled and tugged against the chains, dragging the first one, then another of its captors closer to its steel-muzzled jaws. Each time the wyrm balked, a Zhentilar carrying a torch scalded its tail until the beast shrieked in protest and lurched forward a few more steps.
The Zhentilar had branded its flank with Cyric's holy symbol and the Gauntlet-and-Gem crest of Zhentil Keep. "If the priests ain't afraid of the wyrms," one rather dimwitted merchant proclaim, "then the church has got to be as powerful as they say."
"An announcement by His Holiness!" a herald shouted "All true citizens of Zhentil Keep, all true worshipers of the great god Cyric, gather close and hear the words of his most blessed servant!"
The carriage lurched to a stop, as it had in a dozen other crowded parts of the city, and Xeno Mirrormane rose to his feet. Hair silver-white and tangled, eyes narrowed with smug satisfaction, the patriarch looked out over the marketplace. "Lord Cyric has found it in his heart to grant Zhentil Keep the honor of becoming his residence in the mortal realms," Xeno crowed. "Because of this great honor, today has been declared a high holy day in the city. All citizens are free from taxes until sunset."
An enthusiastic and sincere cheer rang out from the crowd, lasting almost as long as the parade of beasts had taken to stagger through the market.
Finally Xeno spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the throng. "Know, then, that we must show our appreciation by declaring the Church of Cyric the only true spiritual body in the city. None of the pretender gods may receive worship from our homes or our temples, and all holy symbols and effigies devoted to them are to be considered contraband. Possesions of such items after sundown this day will be construed as heresy against the church, bringing with it the punishment prescribed by law."
- another exert from: Prince of Lies
A small army of priests wrapped in dark purple robes led the way. They chanted a prayer to Cyric, their voices rising and falling with their steps. Four across a twenty-five deep, the lines passed with military precision.
The prayer at an end, the priest-horde held their hands up to the clear winter sky in one final burst of devoted worship. Silver bracelets, symbols of their enslavement to the Prince of Lies, glinted brightly in the morning sunlight. "O Master of the Heavens and the Earth, we are yours to wield against heretics, living swords to smite unbelievers!"
Behind the chanting priests came a long line of creatures, both rare and common. The people in the marketplace perked up at the sight of the beasts. They'd given the clerics a respectful sort of attention, conducting their transactions at somewhat less that a shout, but even the merchants paused in hawking their overpriced foods, cheap gin, and threadbare linens to watch the procession of animals.
A barker cried stridently. His clean white clothes and scrubbed face made him stand out amidst the grubby commoners and travel-stained merchants.
Five bears led the way. They'd been roused from their winter hibernation by some overzealous hunter. Now they lumbered along, their mouths muzzled shut, a canvas sack fastened to around each paw. Like most of the creatures in the parade, the bears were kept away from the crowd by bored-looking soldiers, who held short leashes or thick oak switches.
A huge carnivorous ape followed, along with a tiger, a motley collection of wolves, and a man-sized lizard dredged up from some subterranean lair. Its eyes were sightless, pale white and squinting against the morn. Next came a pair of lions and a gigantic wild boar, neither of which had been captured anywhere near Zhentil Keep.
A trio of spear-toting soldiers prodded a Minotaur along. Children taunted the great bull-headed guardian of lost tombs and labyrinths, waving bits of red cloth to catch its attention. The Minotaur nearly got away from its handlers when a drunken man got too close. He'd been trying to tantalize the starving beast with a chunk of stale bread, but the Minotaur would have taken the man's arm right up to the elbow, if it had been given half a chance.
"You've nothing to fear," the barker shouted, noting the disquiet in the faces of the people nearest to the Minotaur. "So long as you're faithful to Cyric, no harm will come your way."
On a cart drawn by an elephant, a mermaid shivered in a huge tank of water. The scales on his fish's tale were dark with some disease, the muscles on his human torso flabby from captivity. He stared out at the crowd with pleading eyes.
The prize attraction came next, a very young white dragon. The wyrm was festooned with chains and surrounded by a dozen brawny warriors. it couldn't have been more than ten feet long from its blunted snout to the tip of it's tail, with wings that had been clipped to prevent the beast from flying away. As it moved along, the dragon pulled and tugged against the chains, dragging the first one, then another of its captors closer to its steel-muzzled jaws. Each time the wyrm balked, a Zhentilar carrying a torch scalded its tail until the beast shrieked in protest and lurched forward a few more steps.
The Zhentilar had branded its flank with Cyric's holy symbol and the Gauntlet-and-Gem crest of Zhentil Keep. "If the priests ain't afraid of the wyrms," one rather dimwitted merchant proclaim, "then the church has got to be as powerful as they say."
"An announcement by His Holiness!" a herald shouted "All true citizens of Zhentil Keep, all true worshipers of the great god Cyric, gather close and hear the words of his most blessed servant!"
The carriage lurched to a stop, as it had in a dozen other crowded parts of the city, and Xeno Mirrormane rose to his feet. Hair silver-white and tangled, eyes narrowed with smug satisfaction, the patriarch looked out over the marketplace. "Lord Cyric has found it in his heart to grant Zhentil Keep the honor of becoming his residence in the mortal realms," Xeno crowed. "Because of this great honor, today has been declared a high holy day in the city. All citizens are free from taxes until sunset."
An enthusiastic and sincere cheer rang out from the crowd, lasting almost as long as the parade of beasts had taken to stagger through the market.
Finally Xeno spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the throng. "Know, then, that we must show our appreciation by declaring the Church of Cyric the only true spiritual body in the city. None of the pretender gods may receive worship from our homes or our temples, and all holy symbols and effigies devoted to them are to be considered contraband. Possesions of such items after sundown this day will be construed as heresy against the church, bringing with it the punishment prescribed by law."
- another exert from: Prince of Lies