Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160726175355/@comment-28358106-20160727002041

The Father ponders the question, knowing he has done so many times himself. He gives an answer Praetor knows to be honest.

"The night?  Yes.  The week?  Perhaps.   The month?"

The aged man says nothing for a moment. "You can sense it as well as I, my son.  The Gods and their servants are either gone, or severed from this world.  But you also know that a faith untested is a faith that is worth nothing."

He steps forward and sits on a rock. "The forest is deep and its paths few.  The Elven city is difficult to get to, unless one knows how.  As for the ones who come after us?  To the common man, what difference does it make?  War is war.  The ant does not ponder the foot that trods upon it.  It does not ask 'why,' but rather,  'why me?'  Perhaps the Gods have finally decided to collaborate against both Iilias and the Demon Lord."

He looks at Praetor, his eyes sharp. "Tell me, my son.  You have been branded a heretic as well as we Cathars.  What do you think constitutes heresy?  What sin do you think is so grievous that such a thing would be allowed to happen?"