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| Author | The Church Of Anthios |
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Every story has a beginning and an end. However this story starts at the end, before starting where every story should…The beginning.
I see I'm confusing you youngsters now. Just look around you, and see the glory that this kingdom now enjoys. Hear the merchants and their clients and realise that prosperity is now common and prevalent here. Look before you and see the power of Anthios.
The fiery justice from Anthios’ holy blade, the sanctuary of water underneath his Sacred shield, the guiding light of his Silk cloak and the defending shadow of his armour. People have whispered many things about these artefacts, and most of them are true. Any mortal wielding even one of these sacred artefact would be granted great power.
All of these items are now lost in myth and legend. But I assure you, they are still in use. The kingdom of Anthea is still protected by the Church of Anthios. Still protected by the 4 great powers.
Now the time has come for this old man to tell you about the history of this town. | Our kingdom, Anthea was not always known by this name. In lore now long forgotten and old ragged decayed scriptures the name Sargoth is mentioned… But always with a tone of fear. To clarify the situation as it was in the time Anthios was born I shall have to ask you to imagine my children.
Imagine a nation that is torn apart on its core level by war. A land that is so battle-torn and scarred that the vultures are fat bloated and never in hunger. Its government, if it is allowed to be called this taxes the peasantry to the brink of starvation, and then a little more just to line their own pockets a bit more. Any revolt is brutally suppressed… Cannibalism exists purely because the hunger exceeds morale values. Ritual sacrifices, pagan worshipping, and even demonic rituals are commonplace. The ground bleeds, the wind cries, the skies moan, and nature burns.
This is the land into which Anthios was born. In a small village, son of a pig farmer… A pig farmer who had just lost all his pigs to the tax collector.
Anthios had a better fate than most babies who were born in these troubling times. Most babies were either eaten or simply left to die in the cold. There was simply not enough food for the parents, let alone the newborn. But his father and mother, who believed that the world, and the future belonged to their children decided that any life for their son was better than starving collectively. Thus they laid Anthios in a cradle on the doorstep of an old man of god with a note. The note only stated the boys name.
Little did they know the immense impact this small decision would have upon the world around them. That single act of kindness would eventually save the entire kingdom.
Unfortunately for Anthios’ parents they would never witness this day. History has little records, but the only surviving report concerning his parents state that they were both executed for being unable to pay the taxes as decreed by lord Xharth…. | “Some people are gifted, or cursed if you wish with a life that is filled with events far surpassing that of normal men.”
Anthios looked up from his book and tilted his head slightly in contemplation before answering softly: “But father, you keep telling me that, yet my entire life I’ve only done chores for the church, studied, and read about heroes doing the right thing… Look outside father, the world isn’t like that…What’s the point?”
“You’ll learn.” Was all the father responded with.
Anthios was 14 years old. The clergymen had taken him in and treated him well. Their life was simple, they worked hard, but they were kind gentle people who helped the community in every way they could.
However, even at age 14 Anthios had already seen the world around him was in disarray despite the good intentions of his church. Though his brothers attempted to shield him from the worst of it all, the boy saw how the world was in disarray around him.
“Go help brother Ramon with the garden Anthios.” The father said with a smile
Anthios nodded and walked slowly through the dilapidated church towards the garden. Brother Ramon was one of the few young brothers, although it was a relative term still. At age 33 he was over twice as old as Anthios, but still the two had taken to each other in a church full of old men.
“Heya squirt!” Ramon yelled when he saw Anthios approaching. He ignored the happy greeting and looked into Ramons eyes seriously before asking the question that was keeping his mind occupied for so long now. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything about the way the rich are living like pigs, treating their subjects with little more respect they would garbage…”
Ramon heaved a sigh, looked upon Anthios and responded in the only way the church taught them. “Because nobody has had enough strength, faith, might and magic. The path to damnation always starts with good intentions squirt.”
“I’ve heard that enough Ramon, that’s what the father tells us. But what do you think?” Anthios replied as he picked up a hoe and began his work.
Ramon stopped to lean on his shovel and thought about it. “I believe,” he started before pausing. He gathered his thoughts slowly before speaking up. “Yes, I believe that a good lord must know how to fight injustice, and only wage war if it is unavoidable or if it will improve the lives of those horribly oppressed. To be just it’d mean a council would need to have some power to address the king to avoid corruption. Furthermore this lord would need to make sure that economically the land prospers. Protecting the peasantry and in return receiving part of their income in taxes, along with stimulating commerce and trade would …should… give sufficient cash to pay for the troops and investments needed to improve the kingdom. This Lord should be inherently good… A Lord of War and Money if you wish….” Surprised at his own answer Ramon snapped into silence and waved to Anthios to get to work.
Realising the conversation was over, Anthios set to work. He wondered if there ever would be such a lord…. | | <--> Due to a very busy schedule I'm unable to post. Just a notifier. <---> |
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