Turalyon

Turalyon The Cleric

Turalyon awoke early one morning, just as the sun crept over the hillside. His father was out

mending the fences; living on the outskirts of civilization had its downsides. Majorly the defense against

the ever present undead population was always a concern to the outlaying farming communities. The

undead rarely strayed out during the daylight hours and Mi‘Roden’s famed clerics often kept any major

incursions at night at bay. Children grew up hearing tales of these brave men and women, even other-

worldly followers of the Sun God. Every inhabitant believer or not had a certain reverence for Pelor, and

his followers for they were the every present shield against the terrors that the night sometimes held, a

calm flowing warmth of assurance that no matter how dark the night there would always be a dawn.

As young Turalyon fastened the belt to his farming tunic he could hear the rest of his family

cooking their standard early morning breakfast. Today was there was an extra bustle about the table as

he took his seat by his mother. Amidst the chewing of the hard bread he heard a word or two here and

there about a group of clerics investigating a nearby “anomaly” which normally referred to an

anticipated undead movement. Mothers voice had a hurried tone, Turaylon could literally hear her

elevated pulse reverberating in her words as she mentioned they “anomaly” took place just outside of

their northern property boundary, the very one where the fence needed mending because of the recent

uneasiness of their livestock. There was something bothering the animals that they just couldn’t put

their fingers on, though no one would openly discuss it the family was glad the clerics had taken interest

in the land just outside their property.

It was about noon by the time Turaylon had gathered all of the supplies his father had

requested. Sweat beaded down his face as he began make out the outline of the property boundary,

most looking refreshed from the recent livestock craze, but no sign on his father. As he approached the

fence he noticed that his father’s hunting gear was not near where the work had been left of. This was a

gentle assurance to the young boy. He knew his father liked to hunt on the fringes of the property, there

is bigger healthier game the further you got from civilization. It was always a great surprise when his

father came home with extra bounty to put on the table. The trouble with the north end of the property

was that is paralleled a steep cliff face, lots of cracks for animals to hide, lots of cracks with darkness to

Turalyon could see soft foot prints of his father heading off in the direction of the cliff, along

with the smaller fainter prints of the animal his father perused. As the cliff grew taller taking up the

majority of his field of vision the tracks became more confused, additional sets clouded the what would

be trail of his father and the game. They were heavy footfalls, steps taken with purpose. As he surveyed

where they lead he began to guess at what that purpose had been. The crack there the steps led was a

little more than a recess in the cliff wall, but once inside the space expanded. A cavern expanded,

where light radiated from one side. The light was like that of the sun, yet somehow different. He called

to the light, it moved towards him, and a voice resonated to come quickly. As he approached he saw the

light coming from a mace of one of the men, it seemed to be somehow channeling from within the

weapon itself. The man gestured to the heaving form lying on the ground. His chest slowly rising and

falling with each labored breath. He rolled over, and horror struck deep within his soul as the glazed

eyes of his father met his. The man standing closest to his father bent down and took out a symbol

Turaylon recognized to be of Pelor. It glowed with soothing light as the man’s hand clasped his father’s

shoulder. The man looked inward and muttered words which seemed to be in deep reverence. The

clouds in his father’s eyes cleared before his own. A few stuttered coughs cleared before his father

spoke the words “you should have seen the size of her” and in a labored fashion raised his hands to

mock the largeness of the game that tracked him in the cavern. His eyes closed slowly as he fell into a

tranquil sleep. A stern voice issued the statement “your father is a brave man, by Pelor I’ve never seen

such bravery in the face of the undead”, with that statement the cudgel shown brighter and Turaylon

could see the broken remains of the vanquished undead that were scattered about the room. The man

with the cudgel spoke with equal solemnity, “few men hold the resolve to look death into the eye and

stay resolute. There is strength that runs in your veins, like your fathers.” “Pelor, gives strength to those

whom are judged worthy, it seems like your family has been blessed with the light of his grace.”

Turaylon’s concern for his father still shown through his watery gaze and was addressed, “ he will be

fine, like we said Pelor’s light grants strength to those judged fit and those whom are in need.” With

that the two men pick Turaylon’s father up and followed the man with the cudgel out into the sun.

Once outside all three men paused and bowed in reverence to their deity, when their gaze met

the horizon again it seemed renewed. Turaylons head swam, so many questions. What was that light?

Where did it come from? What did they mean by strength flowed through his veins? Why did the sun

now somehow feel different to him? Its rays more like a rejuvenating lifeblood than an energy from a

celestial body so many miles away. They arrived back to the house, his mother a brothers rushed out to

greet the party. The conversations were a blur, thrilling recants of the fight with the creatures, tales of

his father’s bravery, and of the chase that led to the encounter. Once the excitement subsided only

Turalyon and his father were left in room, he looked once again into his father’s eyes and spoke “ that

light…” unable to finish the though, his father replied “ I understand I felt it to…”. “ Go then, I give you

my blessing, learn about this light. Protect others from the terrors that darkness can bring.”

With no hesitation Turaylon grasped his father’s hand and spoke with adamancy. I will seek that

light and I will not let our family down. He spoke briefly to the three men, who needed no convincing

having seen already the strength of his heart. And they set off back to the place where the sun rises.

Then til Now:

Turaylon from that day forward studied the ways of Pelor. The three Clerics who saved his

father became is mentor, showing him the healing power, personal fortitude, and when necessary

offensive strength that can be found from praying to Pelor. Turaylon traveled to the many churches and

holy grounds on Mi’Roden until he was tasked by Pelor to go on a journey, and spread the light to those

who needed it most, to be the shield that keeps the darkness at bay, and to give strength to those that

Pelor would judge worthy…