Post by paddington on Oct 19, 2024 22:47:45 GMT
3 Eleasis.
Dawn.
Dawn prayer. This is how my usual morning begins - a prayer to Torm before I breakfast with the others cared for by my Order. As I am one of the more physically inclined of us, this is followed by putting my strength to what I am told is good use. Many tasks fall under this umbrella, so while some days I am out well past Highsun gathering firewood for the week, others I barely leave, instead spending my time acting as a human ladder to help the children in their own chores. This is usually followed by Noon prayer, another meal and some form of study. If I’m lucky, that will involve combat training; if not, reading through some text - as if an hour of reading about fighting will ever be the same as an extra hour of practical experience.
Today, however, is not a usual morning. Once a month or so, we will receive a visitor to the Shelter informing us of a matter that the Order should deal with, and the most experienced of us are sent out to do so. Today is such a day. Alastra and I are being sent out to the outskirts of Ardeep Forest, where a small cult of Cyric has set up camp and started to grow - we are to stop it before it becomes an issue for those nearby. There is nothing like being able to put training into practice, and I can't wait.
Elsun.
Alastra and I spent the early morning preparing ourselves - I donned my armour and did some light practice while she carefully selected the spells she believed most useful and rehearsed them. We were then given our horses and directions and sent on our way. It was a short journey, only an hour or so, during which we said some additional prayers for protection and we made the most of the fact that for the first time in a long while, we could talk without the interruption of an excited preteen trying to show us some new spell or trick they had learned.
We’re currently taking a quick break before heading into the forest and I’m sitting on a rock watching her practise her firebolt aim. As much as I love being able to use my combat talents, serving Torm and helping my community, none of these are the reason I get so excited for our adventures. It is always being with her. We spend some time close by at the Shelter and sit together during meal times, but none of that can compare to when it’s just the two of us for a whole day. She was the first to see me for who I am more than what I am and for that, I will be eternally grateful. I should really tell her that more.
Thulsun.
It was around Noon that we found a small, seemingly abandoned hut with his symbol painted across the side - a pale skull from which emanate rays from a twisted perversion of the Sun, stained purple by Cyric’s lies. I saw nothing of note upon entering, but Alastra perceived far more than I ever could. Her attention was drawn immediately to the illusory floor that I was unable to identify, before she reached down and lifted a trap door - a way down. "Come on Ejiota." This nickname was one she called me often, a play on my given name Ejaita sounding somewhat like the word idiot. She had many more, but my favourite of these was Aegis - her protector. She only used that when she was feeling particularly affectionate.
Once in, the rest of their ‘lair’ was not particularly difficult. A few cultists here and there, another few illusions and one particularly unpleasant mimic, but nothing much more. All of that led us to where we are now: a shrine room with the clear leader of their cult. We take out his two henchmen and approach him. The second he sees me approach, he raises his hands to surrender, his face showing nothing but fear. I go to knock him down so that I can make his end quick when I notice something slightly odd. There appears to be a pattern to the quivering of his fingers. I hesitate, before assuming this to be overthinking and walking forwards.
I hear a slicing noise. Confused, I turn to see Alastra staring at me, terrified. Behind her is a man holding a knife. I slowly piece together what must have happened as the red starts to flow from her neck. He must have been hidden in the room behind an illusion too convincing for even Alastra’s skills. The pattern must have been some sort of signal for him to come after us. She collapses to the ground and I rush forward. I can hear the two men running but I don’t care anymore - the woman I love is dying. I drop to my knees and lift her in my arms, sobbing. She puts her hand on my face and asks me to look, so I do. It’s clear that every single letter is a struggle.
“Aegis…”
Her eyes glaze over. I begin to plead to Torm, to beg him to do something, anything. I channel all that I can into her and my hands begin to glow with a healing light, but it’s no use. She is gone and it is my fault. I failed to protect her when she was vulnerable. I failed to protect her. I failed her.
Tharsun.
It is late afternoon. I have been knelt by her side for a few hours now. I have spent all of my energy trying to do everything I can to wake her up. Nothing has worked. I know now that there is nothing left for me here on this godforsaken continent. I need to leave. Then I realise:
Kantas. I need to go to Kantas.
Dawn.
Dawn prayer. This is how my usual morning begins - a prayer to Torm before I breakfast with the others cared for by my Order. As I am one of the more physically inclined of us, this is followed by putting my strength to what I am told is good use. Many tasks fall under this umbrella, so while some days I am out well past Highsun gathering firewood for the week, others I barely leave, instead spending my time acting as a human ladder to help the children in their own chores. This is usually followed by Noon prayer, another meal and some form of study. If I’m lucky, that will involve combat training; if not, reading through some text - as if an hour of reading about fighting will ever be the same as an extra hour of practical experience.
Today, however, is not a usual morning. Once a month or so, we will receive a visitor to the Shelter informing us of a matter that the Order should deal with, and the most experienced of us are sent out to do so. Today is such a day. Alastra and I are being sent out to the outskirts of Ardeep Forest, where a small cult of Cyric has set up camp and started to grow - we are to stop it before it becomes an issue for those nearby. There is nothing like being able to put training into practice, and I can't wait.
Elsun.
Alastra and I spent the early morning preparing ourselves - I donned my armour and did some light practice while she carefully selected the spells she believed most useful and rehearsed them. We were then given our horses and directions and sent on our way. It was a short journey, only an hour or so, during which we said some additional prayers for protection and we made the most of the fact that for the first time in a long while, we could talk without the interruption of an excited preteen trying to show us some new spell or trick they had learned.
We’re currently taking a quick break before heading into the forest and I’m sitting on a rock watching her practise her firebolt aim. As much as I love being able to use my combat talents, serving Torm and helping my community, none of these are the reason I get so excited for our adventures. It is always being with her. We spend some time close by at the Shelter and sit together during meal times, but none of that can compare to when it’s just the two of us for a whole day. She was the first to see me for who I am more than what I am and for that, I will be eternally grateful. I should really tell her that more.
Thulsun.
It was around Noon that we found a small, seemingly abandoned hut with his symbol painted across the side - a pale skull from which emanate rays from a twisted perversion of the Sun, stained purple by Cyric’s lies. I saw nothing of note upon entering, but Alastra perceived far more than I ever could. Her attention was drawn immediately to the illusory floor that I was unable to identify, before she reached down and lifted a trap door - a way down. "Come on Ejiota." This nickname was one she called me often, a play on my given name Ejaita sounding somewhat like the word idiot. She had many more, but my favourite of these was Aegis - her protector. She only used that when she was feeling particularly affectionate.
Once in, the rest of their ‘lair’ was not particularly difficult. A few cultists here and there, another few illusions and one particularly unpleasant mimic, but nothing much more. All of that led us to where we are now: a shrine room with the clear leader of their cult. We take out his two henchmen and approach him. The second he sees me approach, he raises his hands to surrender, his face showing nothing but fear. I go to knock him down so that I can make his end quick when I notice something slightly odd. There appears to be a pattern to the quivering of his fingers. I hesitate, before assuming this to be overthinking and walking forwards.
I hear a slicing noise. Confused, I turn to see Alastra staring at me, terrified. Behind her is a man holding a knife. I slowly piece together what must have happened as the red starts to flow from her neck. He must have been hidden in the room behind an illusion too convincing for even Alastra’s skills. The pattern must have been some sort of signal for him to come after us. She collapses to the ground and I rush forward. I can hear the two men running but I don’t care anymore - the woman I love is dying. I drop to my knees and lift her in my arms, sobbing. She puts her hand on my face and asks me to look, so I do. It’s clear that every single letter is a struggle.
“Aegis…”
Her eyes glaze over. I begin to plead to Torm, to beg him to do something, anything. I channel all that I can into her and my hands begin to glow with a healing light, but it’s no use. She is gone and it is my fault. I failed to protect her when she was vulnerable. I failed to protect her. I failed her.
Tharsun.
It is late afternoon. I have been knelt by her side for a few hours now. I have spent all of my energy trying to do everything I can to wake her up. Nothing has worked. I know now that there is nothing left for me here on this godforsaken continent. I need to leave. Then I realise:
Kantas. I need to go to Kantas.