This is a piece of writing that I have tried working on a bit tonight–it is the idea for my first D&D 4th Edition character. I am trying to conceptualize an Avenger and the initial foray into 4e has me sort of scrambling. I am having difficulty conceptualizing a race and god–I owe the majority of this issue to my inexperience with 4e and a stubborn mind resisting learning a new setting/system. I will, however, state that I do not like how little information there is about the races and the gods for 4e thus far.

His Morning

Most mornings were spent the same—rise, rinse, recite. The musk of burning potpourri made his lips sticky—it was the taste of morning to him. The masters thrived on routine. He learned to stomach it. This morning was exactly the same in every regard—weak citrus colors ebbed across his face and walls through the stained glass clerestory. He wet his lips, tasting the earthiness, and starred at the intricate glasswork. The scene was always inspiring in the morning.

There was a knock at the door. He stood quickly, almost alarmed, as this was an oddity he could not remember experiencing before. Quickly he reached for his morning attire, a robe colored with the rainbow of a peacock—it was barely on before the feeble wooden latch, apparently meant to grant privacy and a false sense of security, levitated independently. The door opened quicker than necessary and through it strode the impressive figure of Master Oriel. His face was drained of color—it was not apparent if a startled waking or the inability to fall asleep was the culprit.

The puzzling morning, hurried conversations, and lack of recitations was but a blur to him. They talked of new information about The Chaos Scar. They droned on about duty and responsibility and commitment to the cause. They whispered conjectures, theories, and gossip just as they do when someone discovers the temple. They revealed the truth—he was, as stated between the lines, expendable. There were others with more extensive training—they were working on more important matters. There were others with more promise—they were busy obliging the Master’s every command. There were others with more personality—they were eagerly pouring honey into the Master’s ears. He chose not to play favorites. He chose not to engage in politics. He chose not to show too much ambition. He chose his lot long before this morning.

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