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The minutes passed. The crowd grew more angry, and it was all Myrmidor could do to prevent them from storming the temple. Just then, Scelarus emerged, accompanied by fifty clerics, all clad in black. Around their necks hung amulets, amulets embedded with red stones. The Clerics of Sistrina followed, and closed ranks behind so that they could not go back into the temple. The crowd was shocked by their appearance, and moved back. Those standing nearest felt a seductive aura of power, but were at the same time repulsed by a sickening feeling of evil that emanated from the figures. Scelarus forced his way to the centre of the steps in front of the temple. The crowd began to jeer. Scelarus murmured a few words, and held up his amulet, pulsing with an unnatural light. The crowd fell silent, as if mesmerised.
"Heed well my words. You worship a puny Goddess - her power is nothing in comparison to that which my master Nefandar possesses. He is the eater of souls, the enslaver of the force. All those who value their miserable existence should follow me ? now. The misery that you have experienced thus far is but a foretaste of what is to come for those who do not bow to his will."
His words rang out, chill, across the square, and as their echoes disappeared, rattling. into the remote alleys, the clerics struck up a deep sonorous chant. Rhythmically it swelled in intensity until those nearest to the clerics were forced to place their hands over their ears, and collapsed to the floor. With a dull clap, the clerics disappeared in a ball of flame that engulfed them and whose heat seared those who were stood blocking their entrance to the temple. As quickly as it had appeared it had disappeared taking the clerics with it, leaving not a mark upon the floor.
Slowly, sound returned to the city, a hushed and fearful murmur. Myrmidor stood up and addressed the crowd.
People of Sistrine, we have been through hard times but we have survived. We have been though hard times, but we have vanquished our enemies - our city is no longer in the thrall of evil, we are free. This city and its people are blessed - our forefathers saw off the barbarian hordes, and now we have repulsed the evil in our midst. We have stood firm, we have proven our strength. Are we to be intimidated by a foe whose last words were spoken in the rage of defeat? I think not.
"We must learn from this experience - our fear made us vulnerable, it made us listen to those who would destroy us, take away our freedom and repress us. Nevermore shall we live in fear, nor allow our freedom to be restricted by those who exploit this for their own gain. We stand together and fight together, we will defend ourselves and others."
He unsheathed his sword and raised his voice.
"Who will join me? Who will take up arms to defend others in the name of Sistrina? Who will take up the legacy of Lekaran?"
Slowly men and women came forward and joined him on the steps of the Temple. Around Myrmidor gathered first a handful, their numbers slowly swelling, until he was surrounded by a crowd of people, united in their cause. Above Myrmidor's head a nebulous blue light appeared, materialising in the figure of Sistrina. Her light spread until it engulfed those standing in the square.
"My people, the time will come for you to defend yourselves for that which is to come, is not merely a battle for your lives but a battle for your souls. Myrmidor is my chosen one, he will lead the Knights of Sistrina in their quest to defend the true faith and those who are weaker. Priests and Priestesses, I grant you the right to fight alongside the knights, but your main aim should always be the care of those entrusted to you. Be steadfast in your faith, firm in courage. I will bless this city, so that you will never more be threatened by the evil within your walls, but I cannot fully eradicate it." Sistrina crossed her arms across her breast and then flung her arms open, releasing a rushing blue wave of light that raced over the crowd and spread through the streets. And then she disappeared.
The crowd went home feeling a deep sense of release. That night the fires burnt brightly and people celebrated spontaneously in the streets - such carousing had not been known in the city for a long time.
Siristrine became a hive of activity after the effects of the night's revelry had worn off. Blacksmiths set to work creating new weapons to fight the forces of evil and created new armour for the Knights of Sistrina. Barracks were built for the soldiers around the temple. The grounds within the walls were declared to be holy grounds, and within the centre of Sistrina they placed a park, with orchards and a market place and a training ground for the knights.
Myrmidor trained up the knights, and when they were ready they went on reconnaissance missions to the catacombs beneath the city. The undead still lurked below, but they were contained Sistrina's blessing. In this way they were capable of saving many of those victims whose souls had fallen pray to the evil clerics.
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