Post by Olorae on Dec 14, 2011 20:45:32 GMT -8
The Celebrant made her way through the ruins, slowly advancing toward the center of the town. She did not need to get there to see the upheaval that had taken the city, she could see the statue thrust up toward the ceiling of the mountain. The cloud of miasma circling around its rippled and pulsed visibly even as far away as she was.
Power, pure and unadulterated.
She stopped before reaching the plaza, turning toward the building that had been her childhood home. She stopped in her tracks, eyeing the rubble that lay where it once stood. She eyed the ruin stoically, her face devoid of emotion in the method she had practiced over decades to protect herself.
The dwarf at her heel came forward, dipping her head low. The ringlets at her ears wobbled back and forth, her hands reaching up to clamp over them. Now was not the time for 'cute'; the Mistress would not be amused today. Not with the loss of everything she had seen so far.
"Firhi," the Celebrant said softly, voice still and calm. The dwarf knew that there was a metric ton of fury lurking just beneath the surface, and so looked up quickly, eager to move as commanded. "Find whatever you can. Crate it up, send it to my remaining estate in Aden."
The dwarf nodded and sprung into action, then stopped on tiptoes.
"That is all," the Celebrant said. "I... have a visit to make alone."
The Celebrant turned to the east, toward the Temple. She had heard that the remaining Celebrants were dead, but she had to see it herself.
Passing by what was left of the Tetrarch Council's hall, she allowed a soft smile to crease her lips, then schooled it away after a moment. There was no telling who was watching. The chaos was intense, there could be any number of agents of any number of causes in the crowd watching her. There could even be a blade or spell waiting for her. She had to be vigilant, had to be careful.
No attack came as she made her way to the Temple. She was surprised by how... intact it was. The statue had changed, the Well of Souls was capped, and the Celebrants, Mitraell, everyone was gone. Even the imps.
For some reason, that was the most poignant memory that affected her, that caused her mask to slip. The imps that had been such a thorn in the side of the clergy for so many years, that had tormented her during her studies and made off with so many trinkets and baubles, were gone.
"Kartia?" she called out, her voice echoing off the stone. "Undrias?" She swallowed, approaching the altar that had been erected after Shilen had broken free. No, they were not here any more. Many had died in the initial wave of destruction, just as she had forseen.
Everything was gone. This was just the beginning. The plague and destruction would spread and the world would fall into Her embrace.
It was everything she had worked toward.
And yet... she could not help but feel conflicted.
Power, pure and unadulterated.
She stopped before reaching the plaza, turning toward the building that had been her childhood home. She stopped in her tracks, eyeing the rubble that lay where it once stood. She eyed the ruin stoically, her face devoid of emotion in the method she had practiced over decades to protect herself.
The dwarf at her heel came forward, dipping her head low. The ringlets at her ears wobbled back and forth, her hands reaching up to clamp over them. Now was not the time for 'cute'; the Mistress would not be amused today. Not with the loss of everything she had seen so far.
"Firhi," the Celebrant said softly, voice still and calm. The dwarf knew that there was a metric ton of fury lurking just beneath the surface, and so looked up quickly, eager to move as commanded. "Find whatever you can. Crate it up, send it to my remaining estate in Aden."
The dwarf nodded and sprung into action, then stopped on tiptoes.
"That is all," the Celebrant said. "I... have a visit to make alone."
The Celebrant turned to the east, toward the Temple. She had heard that the remaining Celebrants were dead, but she had to see it herself.
Passing by what was left of the Tetrarch Council's hall, she allowed a soft smile to crease her lips, then schooled it away after a moment. There was no telling who was watching. The chaos was intense, there could be any number of agents of any number of causes in the crowd watching her. There could even be a blade or spell waiting for her. She had to be vigilant, had to be careful.
No attack came as she made her way to the Temple. She was surprised by how... intact it was. The statue had changed, the Well of Souls was capped, and the Celebrants, Mitraell, everyone was gone. Even the imps.
For some reason, that was the most poignant memory that affected her, that caused her mask to slip. The imps that had been such a thorn in the side of the clergy for so many years, that had tormented her during her studies and made off with so many trinkets and baubles, were gone.
"Kartia?" she called out, her voice echoing off the stone. "Undrias?" She swallowed, approaching the altar that had been erected after Shilen had broken free. No, they were not here any more. Many had died in the initial wave of destruction, just as she had forseen.
Everything was gone. This was just the beginning. The plague and destruction would spread and the world would fall into Her embrace.
It was everything she had worked toward.
And yet... she could not help but feel conflicted.
))