Intercessor

In the oldest stories of the city of cedar there is always someone on a hill above the battle. They do not carry a sword. They stand with their arms raised toward heaven, and as long as their arms stay raised, the faithful prevail. When their arms grow heavy and begin to fall, the battle begins to turn. And so their friends stand beside them and hold their arms up until the sun goes down.

The Intercessors are the heirs of that story. They are healers, but they are not gentle ones, and they do not stay on the hill. They wear chain and carry a rod and a shield, and they walk into the middle of the fight, because prayer, they will tell you, is most needed where the blood is.

Their prayers are answered in two ways at once. A wounded friend is mended in a single breath. And the creation itself rises against the enemy: hornets swarm out of the grass, thorns tear at a giant's legs, a wind snatches the breath from a sorcerer's mouth, and a shaft of noonday light falls on the wicked like a hammer. The Intercessor asks. Heaven and earth answer.

You are the fastest healer in the world. Small mending prayers flow from your hands as quickly as you can speak them, and when the whole company is bleeding, one great prayer restores them all at once. Between heals you strike: hornets, fire, light from above, a falling of stars on the enemy's ranks. Each blow you land makes your next healing stronger, and each healing strengthens your next blow.

A company with an Intercessor never has to choose between surviving and winning.

You want to keep your friends alive without ever standing still. You want to heal with one hand and bring down fire with the other, and see the whole creation take your side. You ask, heaven answers, and the battle turns.