Role

Chapter 5

A chill breeze, inordinately cold for the warm autumn night, rustled through
the fallen leaves and scraped branches together. Its intangible form twisted
through the meager shutters that sat slightly askew on the ramshackle house.
Icy fingers grabbed at the old cleric's hunched shoulders. He turned slowly,
heart filled with dread. Though his hearing had degraded much over years, he
could still pick up the foul, unholy screams that wind carried. His measured
tread carried him over to the window, and his eyes gazed across the miles,
seeking the unseen. He knew the source of those wails.He had witnessed the
unspeakable evils that now rode upon the despoiled breeze. A gnarled hand
reached up to grab at the phoenix pendant hanging from his neck, feeling
comforted by the familiar shape and solidity of its purest of metals.

Another scream, this one much, much closer, brought the old man back to the
present. His hand dropped away as he turned around, leaving the pendant to
sparkle in the candlelight. Raw agony, pain incarnate, filled the air as the
cleric's knowing eyes fell upon the woman before him. He whispered a prayer
of intercession to Shokai, and saw immediate relief come to the woman. Not
all of her burden was eased, however, for the Gods had made this painful on
purpose. Prayer again filled his thoughts: for the midwife, for the mother,
but mostly for the child. If this one, too, came out possessed, he would not
stray in his faith. Evil, he knew, was never innocent, no matter what form
it took. Eyes again glazing over, he recalled the many horrors he had
faced...

A final scream, and then an infantile wail, made the cleric cringe in
anxiety. The midwife's tentative steps approached from the rear. The old
man turned, fearing the worse. As his gaze captured the babe, his eyes
widened in shock. The mother cried in distress, thinking his reaction a
foreshadowing of the worst. The cleric seemed not to notice. Nor did the
babe, whose surprisingly knowing eyes fixed upon the cleric's pendant.

With tentative awe, the cleric took the babe from the midwife. As he did, he
felt a familiar sensation wash over him. Though not nearly as strong, it
reminded him of the sensation of Victory he felt in the presence of his Lord.

With a joyful smile upon his lips, the cleric held the babe up, defying the
evil wind that still blew through the window. The tension in the room
vanished as the cleric spoke the first words in the room since the delivery
began. "No taint. His soul is pure." For a moment, the cold wind ceased,
and for once, no one noticed the horrible sounds drifting in the window.

The window that faced south to the forest... and the Dale beyond.