The Journal of Marius

The young man was sweating in his plate armor as he sparred against his teacher. Despite the day's heat, he was doing well. Youth, strength and size were on his side, and his armor was turning away all of the older man's strikes from the wooden practice sword without harming him in the least. The young man, only sixteen, was smiling as he managed to land blow after heavy blow upon his teacher, driving him back with his sheer physicality.

"Let's see your armor beat this, Marius," the teacher said, and his practice sword seemed to sprout spikes of grey, the color of their god. Prepared to let the wooden sword smack harmlessly against the armor covering his ribs, Marius was unprepared as the spikes cut through Marius's plate as if it were made of tin, causing the wooden blade of his mentor to leave the beginnings of a nasty bruise.

"What?!?" the young man exclaimed to his teacher, wincing in pain, "I thought the grace of Soleth was only effective against unnatural creatures; I'm no zombie, Sir Marketh!"

"You barely know anything, boy," the knight replied as he lowered his guard, the day's sparring was at an end. "Soleth aids his knights in many ways, for many are the evils that cause needless, painful, undignified death. That particular attack is useful against idiots who trust more in the safety of their armor than they do in not getting hit in the first place."

Marius had already summoned the grey radiance of Soleth, the Silent One, into the palm of his hand and pressed it to the steel plates covering his injured ribs. The soothing holy light erased all traces of the bruise and it no longer hurt Marius to breathe.

"But why would the Silent One give his knights gifts that harm the living? Doesn't he want to prevent untimely death and let life run its course?" the youth asked, chagrined by his mentor.

"Sometimes the living are the worst threats to life, Marius. From bandits who slay their victims to kings who tax their subjects into poverty, Soleth understands that sometimes the best way to provide for a natural life and a dignified death is to take the lives of those who would upset the balance of things."

"So I can count on Soleth to help me kill?" Marius asked, incredulous.

"Soleth best helps those who only need him sparingly, Marius. You'll have to become a better swordsman if you want to be a knight rather than the monastery's biggest kitchen boy. Besides, the Silent One knows what gifts his knights will need, and will change them to fit their circumstances, whether the knight wants to change or not. Best to remember that. If you get stuck in your ways, you'll meet our god far sooner than he had planned for you, I would think."

We have vanquished the evil of the Beggar King, and that of the foul shadowspawn that he so unwisely had summoned. For all of Marketh's training, I fear I am not able to serve you as well as you deserve, Soleth. While I stood strong before the Beggar King, taking comfort from your grace while using your radiance to deal mighty blows, I was exhausted by the time we all realized just what we had loosed upon Punjar. My new ally, Sinaris, and I did our best to distract the Shadow Dragon from our weaker comrades, but in the end it was not enough.

When I awoke to the feeling of healing draught being poured down my throat, I was thrilled you had not decided to claim me as of yet. It seems my allies are stronger than I thought—Shadwin, reckless scoundrel that he is, dealt the final blow, thereby saving all of our lives. Very little in Punjar is as it seems, so I can't help but wonder how much of Shadwin's behavior is just an act to keep people off-guard.

Still, though through your grace I lived, and defeated a horrible evil that would have brought much untimely death, I fear I am a weak conduit for your power, Soleth. I know that I will have your powers with me always, but I feel I also must take more advantage of my natural physical gifts. I am skilled with the bastard sword, your chosen weapon, but I will master it.

Guide me to what it is I'm supposed to do in this wretched place. I am consorting with criminals, in what appears to be an assassination mission. Life is simpler at the monastery. Is this your will, to end the life of the Beggar King? Had not Aleanna ordered Meera and myself into this situation I might've beaten my new allies unconscious back at the tavern. A jumpy lot, and the one talks without ceasing.

Our foray into the Beggar King's stronghold was messy. Jeval got his hand stuck in the lock, and poisoned to boot. Neither of us could pull him free for some time, and Jeval is much stronger than it would seem. Stronger than I, even. Curious that one could develop such muscle in such a wretched environment.

The Beggar King's minions are well-trained, easily defeating my armor on too many occasions. Only through your grace, Soleth, did I not come to meet you.