The Lonely Priest - Tale of the Week 62

[molls]

"The Lonely Priest" - D|Need's devastating entry for PotW 99

IMPORTANT FOR ALL CONTESTANTS

It has come to my attention that some of you still have problems with the word limits that where set up for this competition. I will check all entries personally to see that no one violates this rule. Contestants who violate this simple rule will be disqualified.

1. Post a short text about this picture, with min. 200 max. 500 words, in a spoiler.

Learn rule one by heart guys. No more violation will be tolerated.

RULES :

1. Post a short text about this picture, with min. 200 max. 500 words, in a spoiler.

2. If you are a contestant you are honour bound to not read other contestants' writings until you have submitted yours.


3. The winner gets 1 point on the Leaderboard, if there are at least 4 contestants.

4. Deadline: last day of each week (Sunday).

[Mega Tortas de Bodemloze]

Don't make it easy Molls...Do ya?????? Reserved.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The land of Regrets

I should have lied and said no, when they asked me. I should have denied who I have become. Shaman, priest…Do you
have regrets? Damnation for being a now, truthful soul…Yes, I have many regrets…and with that they grabbed hold of
me and took me to a place they refer to as the land of Regrets. With a week’s rations of water and hardtack they
wished my soul eternal light, then left me to ponder my imperfections & mis-deeds disappearing into the starless
night…I now truly regret that they did not slaughter me when they gutted my comrades in arms like feral pigs being
prepped for market…

With the dawn and the wiping away of sleep from my eyes, the journey of intraspection began…
Do not kick the dog in a burst of rage, for he shall look at you with eyes filled with bewilderment and sadness at
your hateful betrayal. Ya cannot take it back…Kiss or say goodbye to loved ones before you go out the door to
market or even to the most mundane of chores. For if something should happen…Ya cannot take it back…Do not lie and
be deceitful with those that you truly love. For when your action is discovered and the trust is broken, Ya cannot
take it back…Do not hesitate, hold back, or leave for tomorrow things that should be done today. For if your delay
causes or invokes harm, Ya cannot take it back….

Breaking momentarily from his self imposed torment, the priest admired the Divine cruelty of his adversaries. Tis
simplicity…to one and all he would say. Do not do things you will later lament for we all must travel to the land
of Regrets….some sooner and with heavier burdens than others….

[molls]

well in this one you can pretty much give any thoughts, speech, ramblings and blasphemy to the poor guy. it seems hard at first, but you got plenty of possibilities (maybe too much)

[M D]

Reserved, 2nd Entry

[Nazgûl Killer]

Reserved.

[Saint Nicholas]

I'll reserve one of those special spots.

EDIT: using the special spot now.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Faith held dear

“AHHH! God has forsaken me in this dreadful place!, I’m all alone with no one to guide me!” The hot sun was beating down on my skin, slowly roasting my flesh until it turned red and began to burn. My throat was dry from lack of water and extreme thirst. Swallowing my dried and sand filled saliva was a challenge in itself. My feet were heavy, I had been walking for days, plodding along in the desert, searching for anyone, anything to escape from the heat of the sun. I had no food left, my horse had long died from the heat and exhaustion. This, I knew would be my final moment, yes I can feel it now. The heart starts to slow, my eyelids become heavy, my feet and legs start to give way. I drop down to my knees in the burning hot sand, the light reflecting blinds me, I am unable even to see my own demise. My god has forsaken me, though I know not why.

I have followed his teachings since I began preaching at the church from the age of seventeen. I have walked in God’s footsteps, spreading his good word, telling all of the deeds of his noble son, and now, like Christ himself, I am to die here, alone. As the life slowly creeps out of me, I feel a presence to one side. Dark clouds gather in the sky above me, the sun is blotted out, darkness covers the land. In my last moments, I look to the heavens, what I see cannot be real. God himself is looking down upon me, ever watchful and merciful. He looks at me with arms held open, welcoming me into his embrace. “Come my son, it is time for you to return to me. For I created you and all man on this Earth and your duty here is done. It is time to come home and let another take up this task.” My faith had indeed not deserted me, God had finally come to claim me, and I did so return from whence all man came. To this day I now look down from the stars, watching and waiting for my time to walk the Earth, once more.

[Ariovistus Maximus]

Here's my entry:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Scourge of God

I warned them. Surely as the mighty Lord above, I warned them to change their wicked ways.

The old city and its people sank, generation by generation, into greater and greater depths of sin. Thievery, murder, immorality… the list goes on and on.

They called me a delirious; mad. They passed off my warnings as the ravings of an old lunatic, whose time had long since passed. But I never gave up on them.

Still, they would not heed my words. I was reminded of the Proverb, spoken by the Angel of Wisdom so long ago.

Ye have set at naught all my counsel, and would none of my reproof …

Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer. They shall seek me early, but they shall not find me. For that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the LORD.

And surely their destruction does come like a whirlwind. That scourge upon Europe, which men called the manifestation of the wrath of God, swept through our country.

It was deadly as the plague, and quick as fire. The Mongol horde erased the sins of my people in a wash of blood and destruction. The ruins of their idle foolishness and vain pleasures were all that remained of the people I had tried so desperately to save.

But for my part, it was to no avail. They were dead, their city was in ruins, and my time was fast approaching. I am a failure.

The barbarians from the East made great sport with me. They must have derived some sort of perverse pleasure from tormenting a priest. They dragged me to their camp. They beat me, tortured me, and did whatever else with me their mean minds contrived for their own pleasure. Sometimes they would strip me of my vestments and wear them, strutting about pompously, as if in some great ceremony.

But today, they woke me up, fed me the first good breakfast I had taken for many weeks, and told me that I am free to go.

I am not deluded; they have some other motive for this, and I fear that this would truly be the end. Nevertheless, if for no other reason than to put my misery at rest, I must take their offer.

As I suspected, I have made it but a furlong from their camp, and see riders come after me. Now I know my fate:

I am target practice.

Now they ride around me in circles; arrows begin falling around me. Then I feel one thwap, and then another as the arrows find their mark.

I fall to my knees and stretch out my arms to God. Why must this fate be mine? What have I done?

But… but now I see Him! He has come to bring me home! Yes, this earthly body, and its sufferings, are but for a moment. Now I shall be with Him…

in Paradise.

496 Words including the title.

[Beer Money]

Reserved, although in that pose, all I can see right now is him yelling, "Mortal Combat!!!" Ha.

[♔GrinningManiac♔]

my entry

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

THE LONELY PRIEST

"Where am I?" Thought the old priest "I've never seen such a place before. Everything's so...unreal."

"This is surely the work of the Devil himself."

"Damn him and his tricks! Damn him...and Damn you for beliving him! You wretched old Fool!"

"You Miserable old Fool!" he shrieked, tearing at his hair. He wept and sank to his knees. There was no wind, no movement, no noise and no warmth. There was no earthly sensation at all, only the misery and horror of being completley alone

Forever

"All those friends, those faces...those women! All the happiness and success a man could ever wish for! Why did I not see through his lies? That caped man...that masked stranger...that fiend!"

"The Devil himself walked into my church and I, a man of God Almighty, did not see him!"

The man sat in remorse in the desert for years...and yet time, like the greatest of torturers, drew out his pain inch by inch. After what could have been mere months, or a million millennia, a black-coated stranger appeared on the horizon. He walked towards the man, who watched him coming for nearly three weeks, so flat was this prison of a landscape.

"Benedictus...my dear friend" sighed the man, his voice muffled by a featureless mask.

"Be gone...you beast. You have tricked me once, and I have suffered. We are done...depart!"

"But, my dear friend, I'm here to help! I feel...sorry...for you, and I thought I'd drop by to offer you a second chance. Double or Quits, as it were. You in?" Asked the Devil, holding out his hand to the man. The Fallen Priest looked up at the mask and, after a pause, took his hand

The Devil wouldn't trick you twice

Would he?

[Dave Strider]

Is there a limit on reserves? If not I want to try. I think I can come up with something.

Mine:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

THE LONELY PRIEST

The priest couldn't believe his eyes. All around him lay thousands of his dead Countrymen, mixed in with a handful of Saxons. It just sickened him.

It was 425 A.D., and The Saxon Empire had grown to the point that it encompassed all of the Province of Gaul, Britain, and controlled most of the territory of the weakening Frankish empire. The Western Roman Empire, or what was left of it since it had lost the Iberian Peninsular and Africa to a combined assault by the Vandals and the Berbers, and Illyria to the Treachery of the Eastern Romans, had tried to hold off the Hordes of Saxon Warriors that threatened the Crumbling empire's Frontal Outpost, Samarobriva(Trapped between Saxon-held Gaul and Belgica).

There had been a massive battle, but it was more of a desperate last stand; roughly 3,000 Limitanei, under the command of Captain Marcus Julianus, was attacked by an advanced force of about half as many Saxon Keel Spearmen. The battle lasted less than 20 Minutes; The Entire Roman force had been annihilated by a force half the size. Even worse, the Saxons lost only 50 men or so.

There was so much running through the Priest's head. "Will this mean the end of our strongest outpost?" "If the Saxons could do this, what would happen if they reached Italy?" "Will we be able to survive?"

But there was no time for that now. He was there to bless the dead and give them a proper burial. And, as he buried his dead Roman Countrymen, the Priest, tears in his eyes, looked up to the heavens and screamed, "Why, dear god, Why?"

250 words in all.

[Mega Tortas de Bodemloze]

Is there a limit on reserves? If not I want to try. I think I can come up with something.

Please by all means joins us. No, anyone who wishes to submit a story is most welcome.. Please do read the entry parameters though, and I believe the closing date for entries is each sunday, but you may wish to double check to be sure.... If you ever have questions, just throw them out there and we'll catch you up to speed...Welcome
to Tale of the Week...I look forward to reading your story...

[molls]

Mega is right, do join us!

However I'd like to add one thing: My own deadline is generally on monday, that means I will create the threads on monday, move the old ones to archives etc. You can join the contest as long as the threads (and the votes) are stickied. The official deadline Sunday is just to remind you to get your stuff in before monday, but when you see the threads still open on monday, you're still good to go.

[Dave Strider]

Thanks. By the way, I already posted mine in the previous post

[Saint Nicholas]

The Lonely Priest

Dear friend, how do you get that sort of text on this forum? Is that a paste from Microsoft word or some other word processor?

[Ariovistus Maximus]

Dear friend, how do you get that sort of text on this forum? Is that a paste from Microsoft word or some other word processor?

I get it from MS Word 2007. Awesome, isn't it? It really creates just the right mood and atmosphere. I mean, as much as a text header can anyway.

I believe the font is "Old English Text MT."

[webMaster412160]

I had to write a story of Mega.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Blessing of Mars

It was a bright sunny day when a priest named Borealis was walking on the road and looking to the green landscape with olive bushes and cypress in a long line in front of the stone road. Borealis and his friend Mercas also a priest begone to talk while they where walking to there town.
"A blessed day it is." Mercas replied. Borealis takes his cup to his mouth and drinks some wine. "Indeed Mercas." Both priests where talking further, but a group of raiders was coming closer in gallop. The small stones lying on the ground where slowly shaking and shaking more when the raiders coming closer.
"I hold them off, they want the precious relics we carry run for it Borealis!" Mercas takes of a precious ring and gives it to his friend Borealis. "I can't leave you, they will kill you if they find out you are worthless to them." I will make up a story about a treasure we guard, I will keep them busy you have to run and hide Borealis." He shouted at his friend. A raider takes his bow and aims at both priests, he fires and Mercas had no other choice but to jump in front of Borealis. The arrow went right trough Mercas his belly and a pool of blood appeared on the stone road.
Borealis went trough some bushes for some paces and heard the raider stop near the dead body while running away from it. "No, no I can't belief this my friend gone." He shouts to the sky.
He stopped with running and his feet where standing on dry sand, no green was to be seen. All was dead or abonded. He shouted to the sky: "Mars I am a Christian but deep in me still a Pagan. "Mars" Borealis begone again. "Mars give me vengeance." He shouted at the bright sun. He kept waiting, and waiting ... But nothing happened and he buried the body of his dead friend when the raiders left.
He made a oath to become a knight and defend the helpless, but kept wondering why the Pagan God did not answer back. Every time when he went back to sleep he told himself: "It must be because I was wearing a Christian robe."

[Kip]

I didn't have time to write my entry over Thanksgiving, so I whipped up a quick one this afternoon! Hope I'm not too late

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Faith

Our homes are consumed by fire. The ravages of pox and plague devour the flesh from our still-living bones. Our fields are barren and dry. Kindling for hellish flames. The fire cleanses. We are the stain.

Why have you forsaken us? Why have you forsaken us?

Our wells are parched. Our livestock, skeletal. Our clothes, tattered, hang from our slender shoulders in strips. The cold of night bites like the ravished wolf. The heat of day boils the bile in our throats.

Why have you forsaken us? Why have you forsaken us?

We are no longer afraid of death. We are death. Death will be our redemption.

They came in hosts innumerable. The hounds of chaos unfettered, the agents of hell unleashed. Loosed upon us were the horses and the spears, the blinding light of the Cross. We withered, unguided, like grass in the summer’s glare. We were alone. Helpless. Easy prey for ravenous mouths.

Why have you forsaken us? Why have you forsaken us?

Children skewered, like meat for the spit. Our women, ravaged; our men, tortured. Our blood ran deep in this land, in the sandy soil beneath my feet.

Now, our blood flows freely.

Our gods lay shattered in the dust. Hollow faces. Hollow promises.

We are lost.

Why have you forsaken us?

I beseech you, answer me.

Why have you forsaken my people?