The Viceroy stood at the window of his office, peering out across Troll's Bane. Behind him, two attendants silently, but swiftly, cleared the room, filling two small chests with his possessions. Books, parchment, finery, gold. Everything of worth, and able to fit, was hurriedly packed into the containers. Throughout the town, Edric knew, several other buildings were being emptied in a similar manner. Food, clothing, even weapons, they would need it all.
Had he waited too long? Far more than half of the town had already fallen to allure of the false goddess. Families were being torn apart. The guilds, too. The Town Guard had all but lay down their blades at her feet. The Captain's influence amongst the men was too great; each of them sought power, and the demon could offer it to them. Her followers were numerous as they were strong. What good was a town within which no citizen was safe?
No. He had to push such thoughts aside. There was nothing that he could have done. Man is weak, fearful, power-hungry. He knew this just as well as any. There was no point dwelling upon the past. Now was the time for action. His people needed him; at least those few who remained loyal.
A lone figure scurried across the poorly lit street, heading for the library entrance. Dusk was falling. It was almost time. Edric raised his gaze, peering across the town, out to the Eastern Gate. A small group had gathered there. A tiny one, in fact. So, this was the faithful. The handful of people loyal to the true creators. In truth, he had not expected many. The common citizen of Troll's Bane had never been very religious, nor intelligent, but even the Viceroy found this number to be unsettling.
Edric heard the clink of a key rotating within a lock; the chests were being secured. He pushed himself away from the window, turning to face the rest of the room. The man from the street stood in the doorway, his breath heavy and face red.
"The people are gathered, Mister Galthor, as you requested," spoke the messenger, "We wait only upon you."
Content with the bow of the head that was offered in response, the man immediately turned upon his heel, making his way to join the crowd. Edric took a slight step forward, running his hand along the edge of the oak table that stood proudly in the centre of the room. Many important words had been spoken across the piece of wood; he now hoped that someone who had been involved in such an exchange would come to his aid. The Viceroy nodded politely to the attendants, who now each carried a chest within their arms, and made for the door.
Asylum
Moderator: Gamemasters
Stepping into the defiled building, Edric closed his eyes. He could not bear to witness the sight once more. Chairs lay strewn across the floor, good for nothing but firewood now. Dust and rubble had been thrown throughout the temple, remnants of the southern wall.
And the altar.
It stood out on the road, a mockery of the glorious monument it once was. Blood had tainted the stone a sickening crimson. The remains of an unidentifiable creature lay exposed upon it. And they stood around it.
Those fools.
They believed that this altar would make their god. That convincing people to worship this demon as a goddess would somehow make her so. But it was nothing more than stone. If she was worthy of the status that she claims, her followers would build her an altar of their own will. They would construct their own temples. And she would not be forced to command them to do so, nor bribe them with gifts of power and wealth.
Falling to his knees, Edric lowered his head.
'Forgive me, Elara.'
And the altar.
It stood out on the road, a mockery of the glorious monument it once was. Blood had tainted the stone a sickening crimson. The remains of an unidentifiable creature lay exposed upon it. And they stood around it.
Those fools.
They believed that this altar would make their god. That convincing people to worship this demon as a goddess would somehow make her so. But it was nothing more than stone. If she was worthy of the status that she claims, her followers would build her an altar of their own will. They would construct their own temples. And she would not be forced to command them to do so, nor bribe them with gifts of power and wealth.
Falling to his knees, Edric lowered his head.
'Forgive me, Elara.'
Edric strides through the streets of Troll's Bane, his limp barely noticeable. With every other step, the butt of his staff gently strikes the cobbled ground beneath. A dozen paces ahead of him, the messenger leads the Viceroy's escort, his lantern providing some light for the group. The party approaches the altar, every eye remaining focussed upon anything other than the blood-drenched travesty. A seasoned guard turns his head slightly as they pass, spitting at the base of the structure.
Moving through the gate, the escort merges into the larger group. The Viceroy slowly moves amongst the crowd, scanning the faces. Velisai, Joris, Lucy, Tirrend. The familiar faces were comforting, but far too few. They totalled about thirty in all, certainly no more than forty. A mere fraction of the population. Each of them laden with bags, chests, and all manner of containers; filled with whatever could be gathered on such short notice.
Would they be welcomed? Edric could not say.
Bowing his head to the crowd, the Viceroy stepped onto the teleporter. With one last look over his town, he whispers two words, his voice barely audible.
'Tol Vanima.'
Moving through the gate, the escort merges into the larger group. The Viceroy slowly moves amongst the crowd, scanning the faces. Velisai, Joris, Lucy, Tirrend. The familiar faces were comforting, but far too few. They totalled about thirty in all, certainly no more than forty. A mere fraction of the population. Each of them laden with bags, chests, and all manner of containers; filled with whatever could be gathered on such short notice.
Would they be welcomed? Edric could not say.
Bowing his head to the crowd, the Viceroy stepped onto the teleporter. With one last look over his town, he whispers two words, his voice barely audible.
'Tol Vanima.'
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Juniper Onyx
- Master NPC Scripter
- Posts: 1557
- Joined: Mon May 22, 2006 12:13 am
- Location: Columbia, MO USA
Meanwhile, far on the other side of the Isle in Varshikar, a little Halfling was pounding rocks.....No, he was "Raping" those rocks! Ushara wept as the halfling squeezed 5000 ores from her in three days! Only the dwarves knew the feeling of delight he felt with his aquisitions!
Tick...Tick...Tick...went the pickaxe in the dark. Suddenly, the room lightens up as an even smaller halfling came searching for solace and comfort. Pug, the master of Arms for the Guild had found Bernie. Was it fate, or just a wrong turn that allowed Pug to find him? Either way, he did.
"Bernie!" he said, "Have you heard the rumors?" Bernie continued to pound the rocks, while shaking his head, "No" I have been here for three days".
Pug continues as if this was normal behavior, "Rumors of a new cult in Trollbane and many have joined"
Bernie continues with the ..tick...tick...tick..."What's that to us, we're not priests!" Tick...tick...tick...
Pug says "Yeah but this Netheria claims to be the daughter of Moshran, the Blood God"
Tick...tick...tick...Bernie flippantly says, "If this Netheria has coin, we'll sell to her too." Tick...tick...tick...
Pug is stoic and unphased by this and considers his next words more carefully. "Our 'customers', members and workers will want to feel safe'
Tick...tick...Bang! For the first time in three days, Bernie's pick slips and hits the ground.
"You're right!" Bernie conceeds and leans upon his pick deep in thought. "What is Edric doing about it?"
"No-one knows," Pug says
"Hmm..." Benie broods in thought, "We may have to move"
"Move" Pug seemed shocked "where?"
"The home of my Father" Bernie replies, "Greenbriar"
Pug seems to find comfort in this and simply nods.
"We'll talk about it at the meeting tomorrow" Bernie concludes. "How much time do any of us have?" He thinks as he begins swinging the pick again and again, like the hands of an old, rusted Clock, the axe goes Tick...tick...tick...
Tick...Tick...Tick...went the pickaxe in the dark. Suddenly, the room lightens up as an even smaller halfling came searching for solace and comfort. Pug, the master of Arms for the Guild had found Bernie. Was it fate, or just a wrong turn that allowed Pug to find him? Either way, he did.
"Bernie!" he said, "Have you heard the rumors?" Bernie continued to pound the rocks, while shaking his head, "No" I have been here for three days".
Pug continues as if this was normal behavior, "Rumors of a new cult in Trollbane and many have joined"
Bernie continues with the ..tick...tick...tick..."What's that to us, we're not priests!" Tick...tick...tick...
Pug says "Yeah but this Netheria claims to be the daughter of Moshran, the Blood God"
Tick...tick...tick...Bernie flippantly says, "If this Netheria has coin, we'll sell to her too." Tick...tick...tick...
Pug is stoic and unphased by this and considers his next words more carefully. "Our 'customers', members and workers will want to feel safe'
Tick...tick...Bang! For the first time in three days, Bernie's pick slips and hits the ground.
"You're right!" Bernie conceeds and leans upon his pick deep in thought. "What is Edric doing about it?"
"No-one knows," Pug says
"Hmm..." Benie broods in thought, "We may have to move"
"Move" Pug seemed shocked "where?"
"The home of my Father" Bernie replies, "Greenbriar"
Pug seems to find comfort in this and simply nods.
"We'll talk about it at the meeting tomorrow" Bernie concludes. "How much time do any of us have?" He thinks as he begins swinging the pick again and again, like the hands of an old, rusted Clock, the axe goes Tick...tick...tick...
Velisai kneels down before the altar of the creators, on the roof of Vanima's hall and shuts her eyes. The night sky is clear, but a cold wind blows across the lightly built elven structure. She shivers a little, shifts into a more comfortable position and begins to hum a monotonous tune. The humming slowly reduces to a single tone and soon fades completely. For hours, one could see the signs of a battle raging inside her on her face. A pained grimace fades, then a twitch and it returns suddenly. A few tears escape her eyelids now and then, but her breath remains monotonously deep and slow, never changing it's pace.
Only with the first rays of sunlight in the morning does her suffering seem to end slowly. When the sun rises above the treetops of the forests of Vanima, she stands up, shivering violently from the cold. Her skin is very pale, the rings under her tired eyes very dark, but a faint, content smile, like that of an exhausted miner after the end of his shift, forms on her lips briefly, before all emotion leaves her face once again.
She pauses for a while, looking to the altar. "If you hear me, if you care.." her voice fades for a moment. "I beg you, save our world." Then she turns away and makes her way to the ovens as swiftly as her trembling legs carry her.
Only with the first rays of sunlight in the morning does her suffering seem to end slowly. When the sun rises above the treetops of the forests of Vanima, she stands up, shivering violently from the cold. Her skin is very pale, the rings under her tired eyes very dark, but a faint, content smile, like that of an exhausted miner after the end of his shift, forms on her lips briefly, before all emotion leaves her face once again.
She pauses for a while, looking to the altar. "If you hear me, if you care.." her voice fades for a moment. "I beg you, save our world." Then she turns away and makes her way to the ovens as swiftly as her trembling legs carry her.
Caiah's dark eyes gaze out from the roof of the Keep after the Knights of Gobaith meeting as two swords, gripped tightly in each hand shine in the light. Whispering softly to someone not seen...
Taiah, the Guardian from Zhambra sent to the Knights of Gobaith said we must be strong to fight this war. That is why I was brought back sister. We need the purest of heart to join us and we will be victorious!
Dark eyes suddenly turn bright silver as even her hair appears lighter yet a stray whisper, more an exclamation can be heard on the breeze.
Twins!
Taiah, the Guardian from Zhambra sent to the Knights of Gobaith said we must be strong to fight this war. That is why I was brought back sister. We need the purest of heart to join us and we will be victorious!
Dark eyes suddenly turn bright silver as even her hair appears lighter yet a stray whisper, more an exclamation can be heard on the breeze.
Twins!
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Joris X
- Posts: 73
- Joined: Wed Jun 09, 2010 8:26 am
- Location: I BLANK with Flux by default. Fill in the blank.
Joris peers out from the railings on the upper levels of Vanima. He watches a dark shadow move from tree to tree, then stopping abruptly. Raising his bow, he strings back an arrow and lets it loose upon the air, watching it soar and drop as his heart did one afternoon. The arrow buries itself deep within the earth, its feathers and a small bit of the arrow's shaft is visible. The shadow moves deeper into the forest, dodging tree after tree as it fades from view. Joris draws in a deep breath, slowly letting it out as he slings his bow on his back.
Hobbling to the next railing to his left, Joris looks over at the mainland itself. He searches for the towering walls of Troll's Bane, thinking to himself how ever great it would be if life were to be at peace once more.
"Violence among friends. This'm be all tha' this goddess bring."
Joris recalls the night he first heard about the goddess. In the Fluffy Sheep, laughs and smiles were all around as a mini-celebration took place, gulping and chugging his rich, dark beer that he held in a mug. Shouts rang out about this "Netherin." Thinking it was just a disturbance of his celebration, he hollered back to shut up. They kept on going, and soon enough Lucy was in the door crying on Georgie's shoulder. Joris didn't remember much from that point, but he woke up with his head on a table and thoughts being spread to shoot this goddess who brought sadness to Lucy. It didn't happen that night... but soon enough -
Yeah. It would happen. The goddess would be struck down by someone. Someone would be boiled up enough that he would find every possible avenue in which to kill her, and do it.
"Would it be me?"
Joris nods lightly as his eyes finally touch upon a small speck of gray. In fact, a row of specks. That was the wall, all right.
I could save them. I could kill the goddess.
...
"Just gotta learn how."
Hobbling to the next railing to his left, Joris looks over at the mainland itself. He searches for the towering walls of Troll's Bane, thinking to himself how ever great it would be if life were to be at peace once more.
"Violence among friends. This'm be all tha' this goddess bring."
Joris recalls the night he first heard about the goddess. In the Fluffy Sheep, laughs and smiles were all around as a mini-celebration took place, gulping and chugging his rich, dark beer that he held in a mug. Shouts rang out about this "Netherin." Thinking it was just a disturbance of his celebration, he hollered back to shut up. They kept on going, and soon enough Lucy was in the door crying on Georgie's shoulder. Joris didn't remember much from that point, but he woke up with his head on a table and thoughts being spread to shoot this goddess who brought sadness to Lucy. It didn't happen that night... but soon enough -
Yeah. It would happen. The goddess would be struck down by someone. Someone would be boiled up enough that he would find every possible avenue in which to kill her, and do it.
"Would it be me?"
Joris nods lightly as his eyes finally touch upon a small speck of gray. In fact, a row of specks. That was the wall, all right.
I could save them. I could kill the goddess.
...
"Just gotta learn how."
He was sitting there, in his rightfully owned chair, in that corner of the first floor of Vanima, looking at the curtain of everlasting green forest that covered all the horizon. The echoes of the feet of the many refugees that walked through the great hall was loud enough to disturb his elven senses, clumsy humans with heavy feet, he thought at the moment. Still, the precense of them was not as disturbing as some might guessed... he stood, walk silently throught the halls, dressed as he liked, as a proud warrior of the elven guard, and watched silently at the many people peparing himself for this dark times ahead.
He spoke to himself, quietly: "At last, Vanima is what it always should be, a refugee of light in the time of darkness. And this time, we will not watch silently as the world sinks in despair. The elves will finnally show how far the true followers of the Five can go, we will not fail under the eyes of Ushara and Findari"
He spoke to himself, quietly: "At last, Vanima is what it always should be, a refugee of light in the time of darkness. And this time, we will not watch silently as the world sinks in despair. The elves will finnally show how far the true followers of the Five can go, we will not fail under the eyes of Ushara and Findari"
After the initial shock wears off Orioli begins to consider the horror that is rolling into the town.. The altar there reeks of spoiling animal flesh and the swarms of flies are growing. Then a small bird perches on her shoulder. She smiles recognizing the primitive scrawl of the note there. As she reads however her face goes pale.
When she reaches the town she somehow finds them Garrius Joxia and Mattin. They are in a hurry to be off, she follows along. After some time, she manages a chance to speak lowly in his ear. "Do not do this" His troubled gaze lands on hers. She knows where they are headed. The entry to the tomb. Then suddenly "summoned" they are back on the edge of town. Mattin has fallen back with her, keeping pace with her stride.
She can hear Netheria and the Viceroy. Then she hears the tormented voice of her friend Velisai. Her heart breaks at what she fears could happen and she whispers to him "run!" With a confused look he whispers back "but where would I go?"
She looks left and right knowing this moment will not last long. "Come we will flee together, perhaps your dear friend can hide you."
She bolts out of the eastern gate and to her relief he follows her. Her mind races as fast as her feet move. Past Grey Rose and north they run she can see him and then.. suddenly he is gone..
She stops short, looks around in fear. "Mattin?!" she calls out, but only the cool breeze responds, as it whispers past her ear.
She turns back toward the town, her heart heavy and her feet dragging. It is too much.
Looking to the heavens her eyes search the sky. Then they come to rest on the cliffs of Grey Rose lands. There she sees an altar. She runs and enters the cave. Climbing those steps she stumbles toward it. Falling on her knees at that altar, her voice rings out from this high position. "Save this people, gods of the land! Do not let this evil have another soul.." Her heart is heavy and she prays until she sleeps.
When she wakens on the cold ground beside that altar she is numb.
"Where are the gods? Will they let this happen? Is this island so insignificant that they can not hear the cry of people here?"
Looking to the sky again her face grows calm. She focuses her mind and issues a request from her blood. "Release me please.. I will not serve you. Her request is simple."
Suddenly her mind clouds and things swirl around her .. something sears her face at the hairline like a hot iron. Only a thin welt remains, where a scrolled tattoo mark once lay. Again she sleeps.
When she wakens on the cold ground beside that altar she is numb. Unaware of any changes she returns to town, several events help her to know what has occured. She is free. But still her heart is heavy for those who are not.
Unable to see the altar she can still smell it. Unable to hear the name of N.... she still is aware that others do. The words they speak around that missing name still trouble her.
With only a few halfing in town now, her feet turn south. Her eyes fill with tears for her husband. May the steel inside him hold true.
She can only hope the gods will again smile on him and help his mission not to fail. She offers silent prayers for him as she wanders into the cool green woods.
When she reaches the town she somehow finds them Garrius Joxia and Mattin. They are in a hurry to be off, she follows along. After some time, she manages a chance to speak lowly in his ear. "Do not do this" His troubled gaze lands on hers. She knows where they are headed. The entry to the tomb. Then suddenly "summoned" they are back on the edge of town. Mattin has fallen back with her, keeping pace with her stride.
She can hear Netheria and the Viceroy. Then she hears the tormented voice of her friend Velisai. Her heart breaks at what she fears could happen and she whispers to him "run!" With a confused look he whispers back "but where would I go?"
She looks left and right knowing this moment will not last long. "Come we will flee together, perhaps your dear friend can hide you."
She bolts out of the eastern gate and to her relief he follows her. Her mind races as fast as her feet move. Past Grey Rose and north they run she can see him and then.. suddenly he is gone..
She stops short, looks around in fear. "Mattin?!" she calls out, but only the cool breeze responds, as it whispers past her ear.
She turns back toward the town, her heart heavy and her feet dragging. It is too much.
Looking to the heavens her eyes search the sky. Then they come to rest on the cliffs of Grey Rose lands. There she sees an altar. She runs and enters the cave. Climbing those steps she stumbles toward it. Falling on her knees at that altar, her voice rings out from this high position. "Save this people, gods of the land! Do not let this evil have another soul.." Her heart is heavy and she prays until she sleeps.
When she wakens on the cold ground beside that altar she is numb.
"Where are the gods? Will they let this happen? Is this island so insignificant that they can not hear the cry of people here?"
Looking to the sky again her face grows calm. She focuses her mind and issues a request from her blood. "Release me please.. I will not serve you. Her request is simple."
Suddenly her mind clouds and things swirl around her .. something sears her face at the hairline like a hot iron. Only a thin welt remains, where a scrolled tattoo mark once lay. Again she sleeps.
When she wakens on the cold ground beside that altar she is numb. Unaware of any changes she returns to town, several events help her to know what has occured. She is free. But still her heart is heavy for those who are not.
Unable to see the altar she can still smell it. Unable to hear the name of N.... she still is aware that others do. The words they speak around that missing name still trouble her.
With only a few halfing in town now, her feet turn south. Her eyes fill with tears for her husband. May the steel inside him hold true.
She can only hope the gods will again smile on him and help his mission not to fail. She offers silent prayers for him as she wanders into the cool green woods.