Dream of justice

Image by www.thievesguild.cc

[1 min read]

Provided by my Dungeon Master as flavour for Tomas of Tyr.

Tomas stands in the market in Mulmaster quietly watching the bustle of the crowd. Taking in the everyday lives paying out before him,  he notices a figure slowly working his way towards him. The large bearded figure is deific in bearing, carrying a large hammer in one hand. Tomas startles as he realises the man is blind and missing his other hand.

'Tyr!' He gasps. 

'Tomas, my acolyte,' Tyr says in greeting in his deep resonant voice, leaning casually against the wall next to Tomas. Several feet taller than Tomas, Tomas falls to his knees. 

'My Lord!'

Tyr urges Tomas to his feet and he slowly rises. 

'How can I serve?' Tomas asks in supplication.

All of a sudden the perspective shifts and the two of them now stand amongst the ruins of a temple. 

'Bringing justice is needed here my son. Your fervour brings you credit,  but you must finish what you started. Justice...ALL justice must be served,' Tyr explains, holding his handless limb out to indicate the dilapidated surrounds.

'I will liberate the temple and return it to you my Lord!' Tomas exclaims.

'I know you will my boy,' Tyr says gently. 'But this isn't my temple.' 

Tomas looks around in confusion and finally sees something that stabs him to his core with cold ice. On the wall behind a ruined altar hangs a bronze mask, with flames licking out of the eye slits.

Tyr vanishes, leaving an echo in his wake,  bouncing around the temple walls. 

' Justice cannot be denied'

Tomas sits bolt upright in his bed, drenched in sweat,  breathing heavily, the words ringing in his ears as both a rebuke and a challenge.