***
The mysterious man left the prison and walked with a steady pace down the streets of the port city, Sharron. It was a rundown and seemingly godforsaken town that had few endearing qualities. Brothels and taverns where prominent here and so was reveling in the streets. As he passed the largest inn in town he was nearly knocked over by a stumbling patron. “Shcuse me father. Never shaw you there.” the man slurred, obviously drunk. He was just one of many men that were drunk at ten in the morning that day. Knowing there was nothing he could do to help at the moment, the robed man hurried on down the street to his destination. He finally arrived at the old dilapidated building that was his temporary home. It was the remains of the Temple of Ya that had long since been forgotten. There were other temples in Sharron that had a working priesthood, but the Eternal Ya was no longer worshiped openly in the land. As he entered, he went straight to the altar, fell on his knees and began to weep.
“Father, I need your help. The one you have chosen is not at all what I expected. How can you use such a one for so important a task? Are there no others? There are so few left who follow your ways and I fear that I may lose all hope.”
On and on he cried out to his God until he finally drifted off to sleep right there on the altar. As the single candle burned itself out, he began to dream.
Ya appeared before him in all his holiness and splendor.
“My son, fear not. Is there anything too difficult for me? Sleep well this night, for I will lead you and the Chosen One down the path I have set. It will not be an easy path, but this you already know well. I will sustain you. I will be your guide. I will be your strength. Fear not my son.”
The Staff of Ramah Page 3