Lyndria's Prayer to Hiropeh

In your cold moonlight,
Illuminated by your truth,
Set free by your strength,
Inspired by your might,
I strive for freedom,
I bite the chains of corruption,
I race to save the weak,
I slash away all blight,
In your name, I train,
In your eyes, I grow,
In your cause, I act,
In your service, I am right.

Here I kneel, my goddess, bathed in your moonlight. Even though it is peaceful here in your temple, my mind will not rest. Forgive me, oh hairy huntress, but my spirit will not calm without slaying my unrest. … By your hairy nipples, my thrice-blasted limp-wristed father is a cowardly dandy-fop! In all my childhood dreams of my birth parents, my heritage, I never thought I’d be ashamed. I should have taken your heed; the lone wolf is powerful. The mis-begotten excuse for an elf is a shite-covered senator, a blighted politician. Moon’s blood, he may not be evil of intent, but he submits to blackmail from evil forces. He has none of your strength or resolve; he is weak and selfish. He is prey, only thinking of surviving the next moment. He abandoned me; though I will be forever grateful that he brought me to your den. My mother, apparently, serves you as I do. She wanders, as a wolf might, spreading the light of truth that glints off your shining, bloody fangs, reflecting the moon’s holy glow. She, I can be proud of. Him, I would rather shove a holy scimitar up his pale elven arse, because then at least he’d have something for a backbone. He claimed to love my mother, but hid his love, and hid my existence from his family. Apparently, my mis-begotten sire is from a wealthy elven family. He tried to bribe me, ME, your paladin, to never speak to them. I would make no such promise. I’ll not seek them out for my own gain, but neither will I lie or hide, first because it is wrong, but especially not for a maggot-ridden shite-pile like him. I feel soiled by his association, though I have done nought to deserve a sire such as he. … I will cleanse myself in the battle against this corrupt, evil Snake of Sevens. I will redeem myself in your service, washing my spirit clean in spilling the blood of wrong-doers, smiting evil, and living as honors you. I hunt, in your name. I serve, in your cause. In your service, I am right. As I have always done. As will I continue to strive to do.

Lyndria's Prayer to Hiropeh

Meier Ayzel