Empathica appeared before her follower as he lay dying amid the carnage he has created, his Bezerker heart bursted in his chest. She nodded somberly.
"So tell me...how do you feel?"
He looked up at her. She seemed to tower above him, a beautiful woman with the lower body of the horse-he knew her as his Goddess Empathica. Even for a man of his age, lust wasn't totally beyond him.
"Goddess? It hurts. Am I dead?"
She smiled serenely, and flicked her tail.
"The dead feel nothing. Hence, you remain alive."
The old man was curious.
"Why?"
She nodded again.
"My favorite question. I love giving the answers...you, Ser Elmal, have been my greatest follower, though you did not know it. Your life has been spent in pursuit of strong emotions that I have power over-passion, rage, anger, fear, hate, envy, hope...and your faith has allowed me to manifest myself here, momentarily at least."
He was curious.
"But, why have you come? Surely, you do not shepard souls to the..."
She flipped her hair, a little impatient.
"No. That's not my...jurisdiction. No, I've come to make you my prophet. My force on this world. You will spread the word of my coven. In return...I can make your life much more exciting. Not easier-more exciting."
The Goddess smiled brightly. Elmal accepted, and rose from that field, healed of body. Emapathica gave him a saucy wink, turned away and galloped off the field as fast a bolt of lightning, leaving only a bright, ringing laugh and an indistinct red light that slowly faded away.
The sky was cloudless. The mans heart was beating again in his chest. He felt stronger, and lighter of step. 10 years? more like 20 years younger. The Old man was a Young man, again. He felt good. Very good.
Action: Prophet Elmal goes to openly spread the Word of Empathica to the common man. Following Empathica allows one to live life to it's greatest, with no regrets.