Thread: CLOSED

The country of Soltar was just recovering from a civil war. With nobles and peasants reeling from the fight, the town seemed a tranquil place. With the victory of the rebels, several freedoms were brought about, and generally, the rebellion's leaders got together with the royalty and came to a treaty. There would be less taxes paid by the people, so long as all of the laws are followed religiously. Religion, something now forgotten. At the start of this civil war was a young boy. He was bright, kind, and most of all, very observant. He lived with a beautiful mother and strong father. A teacher and a woodworker. A family made in heaven... led to hell. As the civil war erupted, several small bands of bandits, raiders, killers, rapists and murderers all emerged in the crisis. Sadly, the boy's family and home were taken from him, his mother taken after his father was stabbed by several men. The boy looked on, fearful, lifted and old vase, and crushed it into one of the bandit's faces. They turned to the boy, and punished him, raping his mother for a while as the stomped him. After a disgusting group finish, they took her away, his mother unconcious from hits and endless men pulverizing her. There was two bandits left, the boy left crippled. As he struggled to stand, one of the bandits rushing towards him to kick his face. Suddenly, a white light covered his skin, the bandit's foot bouncing off. The light quickly removed itself from his body, and old man in a white hooded robe standing before him. The bandits rushed in his direction, as the hooded man cracked his old lips in a smile. Repent! He screamed, his hands glowing in white as this angelic aura tore through his foes. He turned to the boy immediately, and kneeled, offering him a piece of fruit. The boy was horrified... in awe... and starved. So, the relationship began. The boy was now a young man. His heart remained gentle. He didn't seek those who ruined his life. He was holy. He was a companion of god, and with his staff in hand, robe over his shoulders and eyes everseeing, he'd not need revenge. The priest and the young man remained in a small house near a church near the outskirts of Soltar. Overlooking the large river, the priest and his pupil continued to follow the ways of heaven. He tought him the powers of shine, the power of protection, healing, turncoating, a technique used to convince his enemies. Converting hate to friendship, or love. He taught him basic combat. He taught him literature, the beauty of women and wine, the love of education, and the honor that is wisdom. The priest taught him of demons. How if angels exist, demons must also exist. For every good there is a bad... but a perfect balance of the two, creates the earth. The young man showed promise, and the old priest could die happy at any moment, to rejoin their creator and overlook the young pupil's life. This is one of the few attacks we will ever learn. You've done well to use the first rank of it, this is a stronger modification. This can actually break through organs if you so desire it. Don't like this too much, it's likely our last resort. He priest's hand began to glow, a small sun-like orb forming in his fist. It's a hot little ball my son. He closed his palm. We will learn more of it soon. Come. There is a young woman coming to our church. Conserve your mana. Do you think you can heal another blind person? He said with a smile, impressed with the boy's previous two healings of vision. Extremely complicated and dangerous operations that could kill both the healer and the healed in a moment.