And there you have it, everyone. We have reached the end of Roland's journey, and what a journey it's been. I began this last year in earnest, and almost 14 months later, it's finally done. Thank you, everyone, that's stuck with me to see it to the end. I'm so thrilled that there are those out there that wanted to see more and more of the world (and the beef!) But here is where Roland's journey ends. This isn't the end of the Palamani, though. Stick around, you might see more stories about them. Or indeed, if you want to explore more of the Dominion, please, shoot me a note. Now that the main story's over, I can really have some fun with the world.

I tried something new with this to tie it up in a unique way; if you recognize what I'm paying homage to, you get brownie points! Again, my thanks go out to all of you that supported this little venture of mine. It's been an awesome adventure!

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Art and my eternal thanks ©  eda
Nocturne and best bro award ©  nocturne
Nyst and tastiest beef noodle ©  eldrikke
Conner and porkiest procyon ©  connercoon
Everything else © c'est moi

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At the peak of Virtus, in the marble halls of the Temple of Strength, stands one of the masterpieces of Palamani art. A mosaic hewn of the hardest precious stones, it shows Roland, God of the Dominion and God of Strength, surrounded by his disciples, all of them to a man surging with powerful muscle and tremendous strength. The temple’s immortal guardian, the great dragon Nyst, anointed by Roland himself, attests to the accurate likeness… though hints his arms are just a little bit bigger in real life. The great Palamani writer, Hector Valerius, was so moved by the art that he penned another masterpiece, and hallmark of Dominion literature, the Matter of the Palamani, at the commission of Imperator Renard in his old age. The beginning verses, famous throughout the Western lands, sing of the God’s ascent;

“Sing, O Muse, of the strength of Roland son of Richard, who brought countless ills upon the enemies of the Dominion. Many a weak and pitiful soul did he send hurrying to the depths, and many a hero grew strong with his blessing. For so were the prophecies laid by Valentulus the Great fulfilled, and so did Roland defeat the Stranger, scourge of the world.

And which of the weaker gods was it that battled Roland? It was the son of Usil, Sun God of Ancient Remera and King of Gods, Edathan, God of the Warrior’s Strength, for he was angry that his cult had fallen with that old empire, and seethed with rage as the Palamani grew strong and powerful without his guidance. His jealousy for mere mortals was insatiable, and so did he show his inherent weakness.

‘Sons and daughters of Valentulus,’ he cried, ‘Worship me, give unto me your strength, and I will guide you to the glory of Old Remera.’

But the strong Palamani were wise, and rejected his poisonous gifts. So did Edathan, deceiver and liar, entice the redeemed Conner, herald of Roland and worthy son of the Candars, with his lies. Though he suffered long to reach the God of Strength, Edathan ensnared him within a devious trap.

Thus did the souls of the Strong rise up themselves, the spirits of Imperators past, and demand the coming of their God. They fueled Roland’s body with the power of the soul of the Palamani nation, and so did their heirs, Renard, clever and mighty conqueror of Illias, and Claudia, strong and beautiful right hand of Imperatrix Crystalla, swear their lives to Roland.

Nocturne, of silver tongue and mighty arms, Patron of the Temple, and Nyst the vast, greatest dragon of the Eastern lands, Gatekeeper of Roland’s shrine, did rally to his cause. Thus was the company of the God of the Strong, Giver of Might and of Righteous Heart, complete.

The battle was joined at Virtus, city of Huxley the White, where Edathan sought to make slaves of the Strong. Roland had been given the strength of Gods, with chest as vast as the gates of that immortal city, arms as mighty and great as whole cohorts of the implacable legions, and legs thick and massive as columns that held up his great temple. So monumental of size was he, that mere mortals could never carry his great weight, but his strength was that of immortals. His mane, as blue as the sky and tinged with the gold of mountains deep, ran down a back as massive as shield walls, and strong enough to bear the weight of entire nations.

But, alas! Edathan, succored on ill-gotten gains, fed on sacrifices and the lamentations of slaves, was of monstrous size and unspeakable power. No one man could take him down. So what could God of the Strong, God of Valorous Might, do when he meets one who is stronger?

Even in the thrall of Edathan’s grip, even as he wrestled with the serpent with all his might, Roland imparted his holy strength. He gave freely to his disciples, and to all who rose up. Even as his strength was sapped, Roland had enough might to throw off the many arms of Edathan, and stand for a final fight.

But he would not do it alone. Nyst, Renard, Claudia, and Nocturne led the newly revived strength of the Palamani, and the battle was glorious. Edathan, in the guise of a monster of unfathomable scale and terrible to behold, was stronger than any one man on the battlefield; but they fought with their combined strength, rallying to their liberator and god. The battle raged throughout Virtus, with the tearing of monstrous limbs, the spilling of blood, and the test of true strength. When the battle ended, there was but silence.

On that day, the Dominion would bathe in the light of the sun, and breathe the air of free men. For they are the righteous, the strong. Sing, O Muse, and bring beauty to this verse, for these words are true, as the God of Strength is my witness.

Thus did Roland claim his godhood; with the strength of a thousand men.”