Role

Chapter 4

The snow swirled about Laisren and his minions as he pushed his way through the
never-ending assault of the freezing storm back to the high pass. He ignored the
bite of the bitterly numbing winds, his focus rather upon the swingeing thrall that
had been the experience of his first audience with his Lord, Rillan.
Rillan was magnificent, tall lean, muscular, everything about him was without equal,
perfect. Rillan's etiquette was flawless, and his manner wholey immaculate. Each
phrase he had uttered to Lairsen a lecture unto itself. Each moment of the discourse
had conveyed apparent and clear meaning, while also defining the core of the doctrine
of the cross splitting mauls. For the entirety of the engagement Rillan exemplified
every facet of what he expected of Laisren and while each charge had been given in
more than civil fashion, Lasiren felt as if he had been thrashed for a fortnight.
"I can see your true charm, and it is lacking."
"To have those follow us, we must be perfect in every way. They must want to
be us, knowing they can never achieve such."
"You mentioned wealth. That is also lacking."
The admonitions resounded again and again in Laisren's mind. With every reverberation
he had to steady himself lest he literally physically recoil against the striking of
each statement's echo.
Still, what remained of his life had been lain bare before him, the purpose set and
the means detailed. He had attained the Dread Lord's seat. What seemed impossible
was not, not for him. The task Daerkaan had assigned seemed small,almost simple now.
As he stepped down on the north road, Laisren was resolved to prove himself to his
Lord Rillan. Though the burden be as heavy as Thera itself, his faith in Rillan
would bear out the achievement expected, in its entirety.