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"Déithe ar bith. Tiarnaí ar bith."

"No gods. No masters."

Name:
nihilist commando
External Services:
  • albanachdemon@livejournal.com
And thus the priest walked the lands to and fro, preaching the words of his deity to any desperate enough to stop and listen. Many were swayed by his words, for this sycophant’s master was great indeed and it was claimed promised immortality to those who would but kneel and swear obedience before this unnamed lord, this unseen benefactor.

He carried on this way for many full moons, growing bolder as what he truly sought, an audience with the unconquered peoples of the wilds, loomed larger in his mind. Unto the lands he came unbidden and unwelcome save for the courtesy shown to all who enter their realms with seemingly nonthreatening intentions.

At first the outcast was tolerated, viewed as a simpleton and harmless to the lands and the people, for they were eternally bound to each other and the primordial domain they shared with the other beasts. The charlatan soon grew anxious among these “freemen” and could not reconcile their idyllic existence with their heathenish life devoid of fealty to a higher being. They tried to teach him a life of happiness and fulfillment bereft of religious guilt and morality. The man grew angry and embittered with these people, and he stole away one evening…but not alone.

Though the freemen acknowledged no master among their kind, there were a few who were beloved by all and whose esteemed counsel was often sought. The priest stole a youngling womyn whose wisdom was already prized most high; as demonstrated by her leaving clues for those who would surely come to her aid, as the freemen valued no one of their number less than another. Of course she had faith in herself and merely waited for the opportunity to strike as the priest’s horse carried them over rough lands. The cleric was constantly mumbling to himself about pleasing his god and burning heathens. The mumbling grew louder until it abruptly ceased. The woman looked up to see an arrow fletched with the brownish feathers of a falcon protruding from betwixt the priest’s shoulder blades. The woman flung herself off the horse and landed on her feet. She watched as several of her folk on horseback chased down the priest and one man caught up to his terrified horse first. He slowed the beast and drew his sword.

“Where is your god now?” The question was asked in the same breath that his blade flashed down to decapitate the whining swindler.
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