Havon of Suldanessellar makes his way along the road, the last shinings of day, whatever there is to be seen still in the dusken land of Impiltur, fading into final light with his approach.
__
Spoiler:
The Moon Elven man stands beneath the archway, looking leftward into the great square, and rightward to the crowded streets, his hands reaching out in the same way to greet all as they bustle to the end of their days. His form matches his convicted speech, delivering a steady and tightly-weaving prayer.
_____
"As you bid fare well to the sun each day! do not lose faith. Each cycle, the war wages, and even the greatest Good's light must flicker. In the tired hour, as the night first corrupts the day, our light is extinguished, and the most hateful terrors that would not be smote remain. Take confidence in this truth; They must first pass through the gateway of Dusk,"
His Word, a doom that looms over, all-watching.
A threat so great, the Gods might give pause to doubt.
"their chaotic infernos tempered into a darkly clear night, only the signs of the Gods' Will there in the sky to read, upon black canvas. As the last light descends past the horizon, there on that threshold is the line between Destruction and Salvation. The bastion by whose cruel and exacting sacrifice keeps the forces of Destruction only at the precipice of our total and shared end."
"The fading Gods of the Heavens are not alone; Gargauth the Sustainer, God of the Margin, pays the only toll the rest will not: to look Evil in the eye for full understanding, and bringing its destructive nature into line, to save us all from the event horizon.
Whisper Gargauth's name when you fear what the darkness brings, and know there is a unity of Order which Heaven and Hell could not fracture. When forces beyond you make you weak, lean to the final glimmering ember for your warmth. Gargauth will sustain."
Though a darkness had been brought, then it had been released, fear washed away and all audiences blessed with the dusk's prayer.
__
In the aftermath of Havon's sermon, the Elf makes a quiet comment, tempting any hungry, tortured ears who would hear to listen hard:
"If there are any of you who must have food or healing, I can arrange an offering for you."
And with that, he proceeds, wherever he goes, open to any who would plead for help - even if what they ask is the simple mending of torn or starved body with summoned healing and food, though he gives nothing without its price.
