Post by Alfred Dunholm on Nov 21, 2010 21:31:02 GMT
Ethelbert was a young Priest in the entourage of the Archbishop of Willow who had accompanied His Grace on his civilising mission to the Home Islands. He had been in the capital’s great cathedral on the day that the bells rang out to announce to the world that the light of Christ had once more broken through the darkness which had enveloped the land for so long. And now finally, on the feast day of Christ the King, Ethelbert was to set out on the mission for which he’d made the long journey from his homeland of the Virgin Islands to these cold and unstable islands. He was to carry the Gospel to those who had been excluded from its glow for too long.
The sun illuminated the high stained-glass windows of Willow’s Cathedral on the morning Ethelbert set out; the 5 wounds of Christ glowing red on the flagstones of the aisle from the Great East Window above as Ethelbert made his way between the rows of pews towards the south door. A low mist shrouded the rooftops of the city and the cathedral bells tolled for 6am Matins as Ethelbert emerged into the crisp morning and made his way down the wide stone steps towards a waiting group of men. Four monks and two pack-mules were to accompany Ethelbert as he set out into the wild northern lands which hadn’t yet been utterly subdued by the armed forces of Nova England.
The small group set off on foot, being watched intently by the people of Willow as they threw back their shutters to let in the dim morning light, and the party made swift progress out of the city’s great gates (which sported the twin flags of the Micras Anglican Communion and Nova England) and along the largely intact roads nearer the capital. However before the sun had even reached midday the tarmac had deteriorated to the point of being non-existent and Ethelbert found himself leading the small group along scantily marked tracks which lead into a wild and increasingly wooded landscape. The black woollen robes worn by the party served well to keep them warm from the winter chill but soon became tattered around the hems as time after time thistles latched onto the carefully woven materials; however the group were in high spirits and sang hymns as they went onwards. The low winter sun glistened off the golden crucifix which hung around Ethelbert’s neck and as hour after hour drifted by not a single person was seen in the wild landscape, but still they went onwards so that they might testify to the love of God for the people who doubtlessly still dwelt in the decaying city of Fleetwood for which they were heading.
The sun illuminated the high stained-glass windows of Willow’s Cathedral on the morning Ethelbert set out; the 5 wounds of Christ glowing red on the flagstones of the aisle from the Great East Window above as Ethelbert made his way between the rows of pews towards the south door. A low mist shrouded the rooftops of the city and the cathedral bells tolled for 6am Matins as Ethelbert emerged into the crisp morning and made his way down the wide stone steps towards a waiting group of men. Four monks and two pack-mules were to accompany Ethelbert as he set out into the wild northern lands which hadn’t yet been utterly subdued by the armed forces of Nova England.
The small group set off on foot, being watched intently by the people of Willow as they threw back their shutters to let in the dim morning light, and the party made swift progress out of the city’s great gates (which sported the twin flags of the Micras Anglican Communion and Nova England) and along the largely intact roads nearer the capital. However before the sun had even reached midday the tarmac had deteriorated to the point of being non-existent and Ethelbert found himself leading the small group along scantily marked tracks which lead into a wild and increasingly wooded landscape. The black woollen robes worn by the party served well to keep them warm from the winter chill but soon became tattered around the hems as time after time thistles latched onto the carefully woven materials; however the group were in high spirits and sang hymns as they went onwards. The low winter sun glistened off the golden crucifix which hung around Ethelbert’s neck and as hour after hour drifted by not a single person was seen in the wild landscape, but still they went onwards so that they might testify to the love of God for the people who doubtlessly still dwelt in the decaying city of Fleetwood for which they were heading.
