Description
A man of somewhat short stature and slender build stands before you. Clad in
a soft, thick robe of charcoal hue, with the hood hanging down his back, he
has the look of a monk or priest. A fierce, proud chin and sharp, angular
features with dusky skin color allude to his dark-elven heritage. Gently
pointed ears are somewhat hidden by his short, thick hair that is as black as
a starless night. Thin eyebrows of the same ebon hue surround his sunken, yet
perceptive eyes. A pair of strong, nimble hands can be seen peeking out from
the sleeves of his robe, and a thick loop of a jet black rope-like material
is visible around his waist.
Role
Finding Truth
Added Mon Oct 24 11:35:32 2005 at level 21:
Rain falls in sheets under a dark sky as two figures stand at the edge of a
passage between the surface and the underground. One, a nearly ancient being,
with a strange, inhuman quality, yet an undoubtedly human body. Clad in a
thick black robe of a velvety texture, he nonetheless carries himself with
remarkable ease and confidence. Before him stands the second, a thinner,
younger man, standing impassively with his hands clasped behind his back. As
a terrible clap of thunder shakes the very entrance to the cave they are
standing in, the elder man turns his attention to the younger one. Speaking
with surprising volume beneath the din, the elder keeps his eyes locked on
the man before him before speaking.
Always was your will the strongest, Ezmaer. Of all that came to the temple,
none could rival you in such. You simply appeared at our gates, unannounced,
with no past to speak of, and no future you sought to see exist. Never have
you spoken of why you came to study our teachings. And now, you would leave
us without a word, to pursue what? Did T'yarl and her tale of woe beneath the
surface bring forth some latent desire to know your past?
With this the elder man scrutinized the half-breed before him. Enigmatic to a
fault, this one was not prone to idle chatter or to revealing much of himself
or his goals. He wondered what it was the half-drow sought beneath the
surface. Answers? Inner peace? Somehow he doubted either of those were the
case. Taking a deep breath, he watched the half-drow, waiting for a response
that seemed to linger for eons, threatening to spiral into forever before the
sudden quiet was broken by the strong, commanding voice of his one time
pupil.
T'yarls tale is of no consequence to me, Parnn. Ezmaer watched as the lack of
formal recognition for Parnn's stature within the temple brought a sudden
rush of blood to the human's face, as it always had. The elder man stiffened,
but said nothing. I venture into the depths to find the truth of myself. For
you see, unlike those of your temple blinded by compassion, and love, I seek
only to master myself. There is only the self, Parnn. There is only the will
to preserve the self and to do as will commands. He fixed an unblinking,
unwavering gaze on the elder monk, awaiting his reaction.
Parnn knew of what his departing meant. Many who had come to the temple to
study did so out of a desire to help others, or to find enlightenment in the
teachings of the self. This one, this one had gone to a place darker, more
distant then any who had come before him. Even his own demons paled before
the dark truth and strength he saw in Ezmaer's eyes. He had little doubt that
Ezmaer would find what it was he sought. Closing his eyes, a moment was all
he hesitated before he spoke his final words to his one-time apprentice.
So be it, let will be your guide, never again shall the temple be your home,
Ezmaer. Turning to leave, Parnn never saw the sneer of his lost pupil, and
never heard the thought that filled that same lost pupils mind as he began
his descent into darkness.
I seek a new temple now, Parnn.