The story of Rumis the silver Serpent.

By Amarad Nightsbane



Background

Though his worship is banned within the confines of Iridine because of the fascist priests of Ereal, this god has gained great favor within Parcines, Thuchea, and many other countries. It is also the prime god of many barbarian tribes. Though the origins of this god are obscured to only the most sacred scrolls and books, which are closely guarded by his priests, his followers proclaim him to be the oldest god.

*though I follow Rumis, I don't think He is anywhere near the oldest*

He is portrayed as a massive serpant with scales of pure silver, a feathered crest around his head, and huge flaming fangs. A patron of assassins, warriors, smiths, and basically any vicious individuals. His loyalty is legendary, as is his cruelty and vengful rage.



The prayer to Rumis

The scouts stormed into the camp, bruised and bloodied, carrying the bodies of thier compatriots. What the clan had dreaded was now a reality, thier most hated enemy was breathing down thier necks. Bowing thier heads, the warriors that would partake in this battle swore this solemn prayer.

"O great serpant, bestow upon me the will to fight, and the skill to take my opponents life. Harden my body like the scales of a serpant, make my bite deadlier than the mightiest beast.

In return I offer you all that I am, my soul, my blood, this husk that is my body....to you... O great serpant. And in victory I will proclaim our triumph in your name, and spread your power to those we conquer!"

From a dark cloud in the sky, they heard a voice...... "Though you ask for what I may grant you, your sacrifice will be great. You must pledge everything to me, your life, your breath, your earthly possessions...... You will live for me, die for me, and fight in my name. In return I will show you your true potential, that which you cannot realize yourself. You will make your oath now!!"

And they replied:
"Yes, O great serpant! We swear allegiance!"

~"So Be It"~

That battle, for every one of the Clansmen slain, ten of thier enemies died by thier blades, staves, and bare hands. Devestated by the tremendous losses, the enemy withdrew, taking with them the threat of defeat.

And the sun shined brightly.......
But a single dark cloud remained within the sky, untill it slowly crept over the horizon.......
And the clan followed.........


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