This is a piece of fiction that was inspired after an in game discussion with my Shaktar player.
I had known J'klr for several years and had often asked him why he forsook the chance to follow a Warriors path and instead take the path of a Priest. I was headstrong in my youth and believed that our Priests were not brave and hid behind a mask of Worship instead of following the Warriors road to glory. We often debated the various merits of each others way of life and one year he offered to show me why he chose his path.
His Acolyte met me at dusk and took me back to J'klr's home, a small dust tent on the outskirts of the city. We sat in a small group in the confines of the tent, J'klr opposite me and the Acolyte behind him on his left. J'klr was naked save for a wooden carved mask depicting a Shaktar skull, the wood was stained with a deep crimson that I knew to be blood. We meditated for an hour to calm our spirits, the flickering of the fire gave the old Priest an other worldly appearance and the soft chanting of the Acolyte added to his mysticism. After we had finished with our meditation he leant over the fire to pass me his pipe, the deep red hue of his torso took on a golden sheen, almost metallic. He took my face in one hand and pressed the Q'kr pipe into my left hand with the other. He instructed me to inhale seven times from the pipe and to breathe out once at the end, a task I only just completed. I had smoked for just two weeks (at J'klr's request) and only just managed not to cough at the bitter taste of the cured tabac. As I exhaled I felt light-headed and was caught by J'klr's eyes staring intently at me behind the wooden mask.
He held me there for a minute, a day a week? I could not tell. Eventually I fell unconscious and presumed I had died for I lay not in a tent but on a beautiful desert like my homeland on Kn'th. Behind me lay a clear sea that stretched as far as I could see and before me in the very distance of the desert sands I could see a Shaktar walking. There was a distant voice on the wind and I knew this figure to be speaking. I looked around and saw the faded remains of his tracks in the shifting sands and I started to walk after him. I walked for an hour and I came no closer, a day and I was no closer still, I ran for an hour the next day and still I came no closer. When I stopped to rest, the figure in the distance travelled no further. As I travelled, the sun blistered my back and my skin took on an unhealthy dark colour, still I followed, hearing snatches of his words each time the wind changed, drawing no closer no matter how fast I ran or how far we walked together. There was no night here and though I walked for days the sun never shrank from the sky, burning me as I followed the figure in the sands, blistering my skin as I tried in vain to hear his words. Eventually, even as though my mind cried out to follow, my legs could no longer carry me and I sank to my knees in the sand. The figure stopped walking and so I followed on my hands and knees, my skin came away as I crawled and still I drew no closer. Always the figure maintained his distance from me and for hours I lay screaming with the futility of my quest, only to continue with greater fervor. I collapsed after days of crawling, my body unable to continue. The sun had burned me to a husk and I lay dying on the hot sand. I saw nothing but the burning sun as I slipped again from consciousness.
I awoke again in the tent, the Acolyte was gone and the fire had dulled to a few scant embers. I sat upright and looked into J'klr's eyes. Set behind the mask I detected a faint trace of a smile. His braids were glistening wet in the faint light still supplied by the fire and I knew they were slick with his own blood. I asked him who I followed in my...experience.
He leaned forward and spoke, "The Father. To follow the Father's Path is to walk the Path ot the Shaktar. To listen to his words is to listen to the wisdom of the Shaktar. He is a patient teacher, as old as the World itself and few can walk beside him. He will wait for you if you fall and he will pause if you stumble. To follow him is to know that you are following the one true path laid out before us. He has set us tenets to follow and if we are true to these he will never be beyond our sight, but fail them and you will be lost in the sands of time and will perish"
I left the tent and realised for the first time since waking that I was naked. To my left on a stone table lay the clothes I had worn when I met J'klr this evening, my suit of HARD Armour laid out next to my Claymore, warm & familiar. To my right on a similar table lay the white robe and sandals of an Acolyte of the Priesthood. I pondered the decision that lay before me and turned to my right. I pulled the course white woollen robe over my head and placed the sandals on my feet. I took my first step following The Fathers path.
reality bites
but that's what life is