Private Tales Choosing my Religion

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Rämna Sisters

Faith and Melody
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Faith's cry was not heeded by the majority of the party, and with good reason. The villagers were maddened beyond reason. They did not respond to orders or pleas, and unless they were knocked out at once, they got right back up.

She was not a fighter, she didn't even have a weapon. This was supposed to be an investigation, a rescue mission. Her role was to heal, not to harm, and so she retreated behind the armed party. It was terrible to watch, but despite her pleading voice the villagers did not stop, and the swords kept swinging.

She did what she could to help. Planting her feet and squaring her shoulders, she reached for the divine power held within, the light that had been granted to her this very morning through her prayers. She pushed out her arms as if to hold back the tides of bodies, and a shimmering golden shield erected itself in front of the group.

It was perhaps ten feet across, and maybe six feet tall, and it took a great deal of effort to maintain. Sweat dripped from her brow and she held the flickering barrier against the crash of bodies. The tides came round the sides, but they were easier to dispatch.

"Brok!" she called, noting that he was still separated. "Come!" She could not managed more than one word at a time, not without losing the shield.