Raven

Aureum

The streets of Lirion's capital bursted with life, throngs of merchants and workers, nobles and ne'erdowells. Street vendors pedaled spices and trinkets, smithies glowed with the light of their forges and rang with the strikes of a hundred hammers. The Golden City's streets were paved in limestone, its marble edifices trimmed with gold and silver.

Many vices were available in Aureum. The streets held shops and swindlers, the docks boathouses and brothels. The only limit on a citizen was how gleefully their coinpurse jingled.

Myrandus had come on more generally-accepted business.

The temple of Alumnon was located in the heart of Aureum, an extravagant edifice dedicated to the god of radiance and prophecy. The Alu'n Clearium, as the temple was ceremonially called, was a vast circular structure built, in relation with the other buildings of Aureum, from white marble and limestone. What defined the Clearium's architecture were its wrap-around stairway and its dome, on which extravagant designs were trimmed in orichalcum, the legendary dull-golden mountain-bronze. Orichalcum, as well as being an exceptionally sturdy metal for weapon and armor smithing, was a powerful magical catalyst, both of the arcane and divine realms.     

Pacing casually up the vast stairway to the temple, Myrandus posed a striking figure, his blacksteel armor and dark hair like a bottomless pit carved into the candid gleam of the polished steps. An orichalcum-armored sentinel was stationed on every seventh step, and one row as such facing in each cardinal direction. The guardians of the Clearium wielded tower shields almost as tall as they were in one hand, and in the other an ornate glaive was propped against the ground. Their plate armor was forged of numerous components, the joints protected by fine chain mail. Their helmets were intricately carved, flaring upwards at the top and possessing a T-shaped visor intended to intimidate any ordinary folk.

Needless to say, Myrandus was not ordinary.

The warrior crested the top of the steps, making his way inside the temple. The Clearium consisted mainly of one room, empty except for an array of columns circling the space and a dais located in the center. A handful of well-dressed civilians wandered about the temple, interspersed with several white-robed priests. One priest, noting the entrance of Myrandus, strode self-importantly towards him. The priest had a well-kept white beard and wore a gold-trimmed robe. He was flanked by two guardians.

The high priest of Alumnon inclined his head to Myrandus, his arms folded inside his robe.

"If you would follow me," he murmured, and strode between two columns, seeming to disappear within the small crowd. His guards halted at each column, pivoting in perfect tandem and planting the hafts of their polearms upon the ground with a thud.

Myrandus strode through the two columns, seeing nothing but the temple wall behind them...

...Until he cleared them, suddenly in a different place. He was in a well-sized room, facing the high priest. The holy man gestured for Myrandus to halt.

Light filled the room. A water basin was kept against the wall, the crystal liquid an undisturbed mirror. The end of the room lacked a wall, instead looking out on a sheer drop which fell into a verdant valley several meters down. The room was quiet except for the gentle stirring of the wind through the opening and the crazed mutterings of a madman.

"No, not them, too... Eryss is dead, so is Daenard, Aldred- killed Meria, I didn't mean to, so sweet- No! No. Nononono why are there bodies everywhere?" The mutters rose to a wail.

A haggard figure with long, unkempt black hair was chained to the ground by his wrists, forced into a kneeling position. He wore naught but a loincloth, and his face reflected innumerable lifetimes of anguish.  A weary-looking noble in a fine green tunic hunched over the figure, his brown goatee peppered with grey.

"May I proceed?" inquired the noble, not certain whether to address the vulnerable figure quivering below him or the high priest.

"Go on," the priest said. "It will snatch away your worries."

"She left me she left me she left me..."

It was then that the poor wretch became aware of Myrandus. He jerked towards him, straining against his chains.

"It was you, wasn't it? You damn cur, you Stygian, you damn bastard- Help me, please! Dieiera! Help me, it's not my fault, help me..."

The noble paused, turning to the high priest once more. "Does he have a..."

"Burnt to the ground! Ashes, cinders- Gavin! No, no, not you too!"

"...a name?"

The priest waved away the question.

"Not any of consequence."

The noble turned back to the madman, who averted his gaze from the man in green.

"Nonononononononononononononono..." 

The high priest strode to the pair, as Myrandus looked on intently.

Raising his hands towards the heavens, the priest chanted, "May Alumnon release you, suffering child of the sun, from the burden which so ruthlessly clouds your thoughts."

The noble relaxed his hunched shoulders, looking towards the high priest in gratitude.

The wretch spasmed. "Please- NO! Nonono I don't want this I don't want thisIdon'twantthis- Please! Please!" He threw back his head, accusing the sky with his tortured scream. "I DON'T WANT YOUR BURDENS!"

The relieved noble dropped a handful of gold coins into the care of the high priest of the mighty Alumnon, savior of the downtrodden.

"Thank you," he smiled. "I feel a weight has been lifted."

"Alumnon will always welcome you," the priest beamed benevolently. He slipped the coins into a fold in his robe.

The sacrifice stared at the noble as he strode jubilantly from the room. "I was never good enough for you, was I, Father?"

The client disappeared from the room.

The high priest turned to Myrandus, his warm smile still plastered on his face.

"Now I may tend to your troubles as well, tortured wanderer. How may-"

The holy man staggered backwards as Myrandus' armored fist redecorated his face. The new design featured many more bold colors than before, vibrant reds blending seamlessly with black and purple.

"You'll have a good use for that gold, prettying up that mess of yours," Myrandus growled. He turned to the depraved figure chained to the floor. The wretch's head lolled in agony as he weakly struggled against his bonds.

"No... No... Nooo... help me, save me, release me... No more, don't- ah! Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah... Please! Please..."

Myrandus drew his sword.