At least I’m at peace with my soul, the young man thought to himself as he looked out to the crowd. Many came in attendance for the absurd number of hangings that were scheduled that day. Most of the accused were likely innocent, not that it mattered to his bloodthirsty kin, who cared more for entertainment than justice. He looked to his left where he saw an Elf and a pale woman, and to his right he saw one of the local innkeepers, Flynn by name, and a massive man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes. There were five nooses on this stand of gallows, and five across the town square, with the bodies of the dead being piled in the center for the next day as a reminder to those who would commit crimes.
As the self proclaimed judge and jury that was Marcel Dornan, the Grand Inquisitor for the region, read them all their list of crimes, and wished them acceptance in death, Rune said a little prayer to himself.
“By the Ancestors, and the Legacy, and all of the Council in Its Divinity, I accept my fate, and I cast all doubts of my worth to the wind, for I know what I have done, and I know that I am worthy of the Ancestors. May the wretches that wield false control falter, and may the Legacy see the truth through.”
As he finished his prayer, he saw that Marcel had finished his speech, and that the executioners were moving toward the levers that would drop the floor out from under the condemned. His last moments were blurred together, the lever being pulled and the floor dropping from under him, a sharp pain in his neck, then nothing. There was no thought, no feeling, no realization, no sound, no smell, just nothing.
He suddenly found himself on a plain, it was raining, and there was a thick fog. He felt the urge to walk forward and so he did, feeling the wet grass and soft earth beneath his feet, reveling in the feel of the warm easterly wind. He looked up and saw a clear, dark sky, with countless stars, and the twin moons hanging in the middle of the sky, the blood moon, in its massive crimson glory hanging to the north while the soul moon, a dark, small, gray sphere, hung to the south. The former was said to be the home of the Ancestors, the latter the home of the Legacy, while the Council lighted and warmed the days. Looking back in front of him, he saw a small fire, with a hooded figure sitting on a large rock facing away from him. As he approached, he called out to the figure, but it did not seem to hear him, so he walked to the front of it, standing near to the fire and enjoying the warmth.
“I see you’ve found me,” the hooded figure said to him, without looking up from his hands, which Rune suddenly noticed were steadily carving a small block of wood. “You should get out of those rags and into something a bit more comfortable. I’m sure you’ll find something suitable in that tent behind you, the left one.”
Rune looked and suddenly saw two fair sized tents, and entered the one on the left cautiously, closing the flap behind him to afford a measure of privacy. He found a neatly folded pile of clothes on a cot. He removed his rags and realized that they were soaked in blood, not just the rain that was outside. Confused, he decided to ask after he was dressed. He first thought that the clothes were leather, but found that they were of a material he was unfamiliar with. He could see that the shirt was black with crimson trimming, long sleeved, though these could be removed if desired. The boots had red toes and heel, but the rest were as black as night. The pants and hood were black, and the gloves had red palms with a strange red stone on each of the knuckles. He also found a mask that could be tied both to his hood and his shirt, which was crimson with black runes upon it, which he realized were a prayer to Asuun, who was the embodiment of Life and Death, and who decided when a mortal’s Fate would begin and end. He donned the mask, which covered the lower part of his face, leaving his head and eyes exposed. He looked into a mirror and saw that his hair was now stark white and his eyes the brightest green they had ever been, almost seeming luminescent. He suddenly realized too that there was no light in the tent. He grabbed up his bloody rags and walked out to the fire to speak with the hooded figure.
