(From Arcangela, Ninth Order Cleric of the Sovereign Host, Tyrs Paladium)
I am honored to defend the realms of Stormreach and spread healing to any who require it of me.
That said, being a cleric is a thankless job. “Heal me.” “Can you buff?” “Can you raise me?” Mind you, despite my vows to my order of the Sovereign Host, it can be a bit, um, vexing to meet the needs of so many.
One instance occurred on the request of a man who desired a tomb from a haunted library. Simple enough for someone with an affinity to defend against undeath. I had prepared to travel alone with a hired hand when a young group offered to party with me. Experience has shown that’s a better plan–the dead can be unpredictable, and I’m not the strongest fighter.
So, the quest was simple enough. I saved the party a lot of slashing and time by turning many of the wretched things before they could lift their weapons. And then came the final test. Two of the party surged ahead unwisely and were met by several wraiths soon after. Being slower, I came in to see the two men dead. Three more were about to meet their deaths as I raised others.
And then the swarm saw me. Not a few wraiths. Many. Like, holy Scartongue’s-head-on-a-pike MANY. I turned several but the swarm easily bested me.
After resurrecting nearby I could still hear the screams and pleads of my party for help over the magical listening spell. I fortified myself again and entered. And died again. There were at least 30 wraiths. But the group persisted. Not smartly, mind you, but they persisted. And I persisted–in dying, mostly. When fresh help arrived we were able to defeat the last group of wraiths, but I thought I might have to change my name from “Arcangela Glasender” to “Arcangela Diesalot.”
The saddest part was that only one person thanked me for my persistence and aid. I know that my work doesn’t require thanks, or even an acknowledgement. But it would be so nice if others would.
Just remember to go in wands and staves and swords brightened and blazing in that haunted library within House Jorasco.
And now, a warm bath and some light reading. This tome I kept from some goth girl loitering about near Delara’s cemetary looks interesting…