Blog Calendar
    April     ►
SMTWTFS
  
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Archive RSS
About This Author
I am SoCalScribe. This is my InkSpot.
Sisyphean Attempts at Self-Improvement
#1085301 added March 12, 2025 at 11:06pm
Restrictions: None
Thogun's Vision #2

Heading to bed for a much-deserved long rest, you open the door to your room and cross the threshold, only to realize that you’re not in your room at all. You’re in a massive outdoor gymnasium with high walls that reach up to the sky, and an expansive canopy of tree branches overhead, warm and bright sunlight filtering down through gaps in the leaves.

All around you is evidence of intense training: dozens of arrows crowding the bullseyes on the archery range, broken boards and bricks, armored dummies run through with spears and javelins, others which have been cleaved in half with some sort of greatsword or axe, etc.

The sounds of fighting draw your attention to a far corner of the training grounds, where a group of a dozen stone golems surrounds a fighting ring. As they close in on their quarry in the center, you catch flashes of red hair and dragonskin clothing between the stone constructs.

The outer edges of the fighting ring and just beyond are scattered with broken chunks of stone. A moment later, a massive fist bursts through the back of the stone golem closest to you, then the entire construct explodes in a shower of stone, adding to the debris around the ring. With that golem destroyed, you can now clearly see Kord in the center.

“Thogun Mai Le Stygian,” Kord’s voice booms throughout the gymnasium. “I’ll be right with you.”

You watch on in awe as Kord lashes out, becoming a blur of motion and savagery. None of the stone golems can land a strike on him, not fists or feet or force bolts. These large intimidating constructs, significantly larger than Kord himself, carved from solid stone and imbued with powerful magic, are about as effective as a dozen kobolds attacking a kraken. Kord demolishes them with his bare hands, one after another. Every punch, knee, elbow, and kick he lands causes a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning as he reduces the dozen stone golems to rubble that adds to the debris around the ring. All this devastation in a single round of combat. Six seconds.

A few moments later, twelve more stone golems materialize in equidistant summoning circles that you notice surround the fighting ring like the numbers on a clock. Their eyes flare to life with magical energy and they start to advance on the storm god, but Kord raises a hand.

“Hold!” The constructs freeze in place immediately.

Kord approaches you, wiping his brow with his forearm. Although from your vantage point, it seems to be mostly for show; as far as you can tell, Kord has barely broken a sweat.

“Walk with me,” he says, more of a command than request.

You exit the gymnasium and gasp in realization that the branches and leaves forming the canopy over Kord’s gymnasium belong to Yggdrasil, the World Tree which you briefly visited when experimenting with planar travel. Kord’s Roman-style compound is nestled in Yggdrasil’s roots.

“You are finally coming into your own, little goliath,” Kord says as you walk the compound and look at Yggdrasil’s massive roots which form walls as high as mountains around it.

“Standing up to that scaly bastard Korrigan like you did? Good show!” He claps you on the back, hard enough to cause radiant damage. You take it, but the additional thunder damage is what causes you to stumble, struggling to remain on your feet.

Looking up at Kord, there’s a genuine look of pride, and maybe something even resembling affection in his eyes. Is this what Kord’s favor feels like? It’s the greatest feeling in the world.

“Thogun,” Kord continues. “You are making your way along the path to becoming a true champion of mine. And though you have accomplished impressive feats, you are in many ways still a child, and still ignorant of my ways.”

At first, you find yourself chafing a bit at the blunt assessment, but when you think back to some of the choices you’ve made recently, you realize that you are still struggling with what it means to be a cleric of Kord; to set aside your own inclinations and desires for those of your patron deity.

“Now that you are embarking on the more advanced steps of the priesthood,” Kord continues. “My presence will be more constant in your life. I will more directly intervene in your activities. You’ve already built your faith in me; now it’s time to find your strength in me.”

You stop at a pond and look at the glassy surface of the water. Beneath is obscured, but not by dirt or muck. Whatever’s swirling around down there seems radiant and almost welcoming.

“Three last things,” Kord says, putting his hand gently but firmly on your shoulder in the reassuring way a father would. “First, stop leaning so much into your defensive, healing abilities. Kord’s priests are warriors, not nurses. You want to reserve some capacity to help others? Fine. But my priests lead in a fight and I expect you to pray for spells accordingly.”

You nod in understanding.

“Second,” he says, his grip on your shoulder tightening to the point where it’s almost painful. “If your brother is so pathetically desperate for companionship that he sacrifices your bond for every orphan, griffon, and dragon that you come across in your adventures, perhaps it’s time to invest yourself in people who share our sense of honor and loyalty.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head and speaking directly to your deity, face-to-face, for the first time. “Reggie is honorable. And loyal.”

“Then you should ask him why he stole your orc friend’s sending stone and deprived him of a connection with his father,” Kord replies. “His need for connection pushes others away.”

Kord lets you contemplate that for a long moment before making his last point.

“Third,” he says, hooking his finger through The Way (which you are still wearing like a necklace) and lifting it up as if to inspect it. “Before the battle, you and your brother may wish to consider a safer or more strategic place to keep what the opposition is coming to acquire. There is a difference between bravery and stupidity.”

And before you can open your mouth to reply, he shoves you into the pond.

You crash into the water, which you find warm and inviting. You almost don’t even notice that it’s drawing you down... down... down...

Then, just as you desperately feel the need to take a breath, to fill your lungs with air...

You sit bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath. You realize you’re in your room, and the dawning sun is just starting to filter in through your window.

It’s a new day... and it’s one day closer to the impending battle that could change everything.



——————————————————————————————

Word Count: 1,136

Written For: My D&D campaign
© Copyright 2025 Jeff (UN: jeff at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Jeff has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
... powered by: Writing.Com
Online Writing Portfolio * Creative Writing Online