Open Chronicles Shadow and Ash | Instability

A roleplay open for anyone to join
"No, they were not," she said, distracted in studying him with her own careful assessment, then replied, "nothing worthy of mention, you however," she gestured to his arm, concern shown in her eyes.

She stepped closer then, even reached to place her hand against his damaged limb. She was no healer, that was a skill beyond her merits, but that did not mean she could not be empathetic. As she continued to look him over, she said, "our healers are quite skilled, no doubt they can mend this..." she looked up to him, "are you able to continue? They could come to us."

 
  • Nervous
Reactions: Erin the Black
"Your salves and bandages would be acceptable," he grated in reply, but shook his head slowly, "but your healers may save their skills for those that need it." There was a wariness in his tone at the suggestion of magic being used upon him, as though he were not entirely comfortable with the idea.

"This affliction is merely an inconvenience, Lady," he added as they continued along. It was difficult to hide the wince with every step, but he was a stubborn and prideful soul. He'd had quite harsh teachers through his youth, especially after committing to the path of the Seeker. The Lady did not suffer the weak among the ranks of her Seekers, after all. Hard bitten was not even in it.

The clink of armor shifting was broken by the sound of his voice, deflecting the conversation away from inconvenient notions like magical healing. "What were those creatures?" He clinked along a few more steps before adding, "they did not feel a part of the world. They also did not feel like several individuals."

They certainly had not acted like individuals. The puppet master had certainly had trouble with the strings, but there was something there. He was sure of it. A thread of magic ran through all of it, and it was not magic borne of the Lady.
 
  • Thoughtful
Reactions: Ánië Táralóm
She looked him over a final time, and she removed the worry from her features with a wry grin. Like any warrior, he of course would make light of his injuries. She nodded, and thought to herself that whatever powers it was that had kept the dark magic of their enemy at bay would likely have the same diminishing effects on even their helpful magics. Or perhaps there was more to it than that.

As she turned and fell again into step with him, she put the thought aside and started again on their way, an said, "very well. Even without magic, our healers know many things."

This time they were not alone. Some of the reinforcements lingered there to sort through the mess of this little debacle, and a handful joined with Ánië and Erin.

"What were those creatures?...
... they did not feel a part of the world. They also did not feel like several individuals."
​
Her chin stiffened up some. Her posture too. And a breath.

"They used to be like us," she said, and the fell silent for a moment. Then another, "they were once my kin. By what evils they have been made the way they are now, I do not know... but they are no longer like us. I can not feel their light in my mind like I do these others," she gestured to the other Aerai who followed near, "unlike us, they do not speak. They tell no tales. They seek only to destroy, exactly opposed to what we are.

We call them Aica, for they are fallen, cursed - corrupted. But even your kind, or the kinds of the Orcs or the Dwarves can too be made like this, we have seen it.

Do as you have done, Erin..."

Though it was clearly pain in her voice, there was resolution. Not a one of them had ever shown any quarter, and not a one of them would be given any.

They drew near to the encroaching wall of Sharyrdaes' second tier, and there a grand gatehouse stood proudly, though marred by conflict. As they entered through, on into the second tier, there was not much that was different other than perhaps the buildings seemed a bit taller and closer. But also, the walls of the next tier seemed far closer, growing closer together with each step upward.

"Are you sure you can continue? We can rest here while the healers come to us."

 
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Erin the Black
"So they are but another kind of heretic," Erin replied in a tight voice. He was keenly aware of the others that were tagging along with them. That was fine, even if his narrow view of the world made him seem cold and distant and give everyone a side-eye on their first meeting. "Accepting heresy breaks all ties that bind. They were never your kin if they could be turned to the dark so easily."

It had to be some kind of inherent flaw in the individual that made them fall. Erin had never understood how the allure of money or power over others could turn the seemingly faithful into heretical monsters. Especially when the price for turning aside from the path and abandoning Justice and the righteous will of the Grey Lady only led to ruin.

His eyes continued to roam, looking for enemies within this sanctified place. The pain in his arm and shoulder he simply pushed away until it was almost someone elses.

"I am certain, Lady," he said gravely when she queried him again. "I can see the war waged here. Let the healers rush to those that need it, ply their skills and limited strength on those that would die otherwise." He continued a few steps, grimacing beneath his helm. "Pain is a test and nothing more. I will live and remain whole. Surely there are others that need their ministrations more?"

But it did hurt. Didn't much matter, though. War was hell, after all.
 
  • Love
Reactions: Ánië Táralóm
The Aerai were a people who did see grey. Erin's words regarding her fallen kin stung her, but she could not deny that there was some truth in what he said, perhaps. Something she had noted among the Aica was that they were very rarely if ever any of the more powerful of her kind, always on the lower tiers. But she wondered if this was less a matter of their mental susceptibility, or simply a matter of their ability to resist.

"The war began here," she said, addressing his mention of the signs of war present even here, "our city was infiltrated by a very powerful entity, and there," she pointed very high up to the city's highest tiers. Even from where they were, even through the dark, they could see the enormous structure high above, the great Temple, alight with torchlight and magic, "once there was a great tower which touched the clouds when they hung low. From there our council kept their vigil, and this creature brought that tower down."

Her eyes cast down as the remembered the great conflict, now well over a century ago, "for many years we fought him, and there are many of my kind no longer here because of it. Do not suffer needlessly, Erin, but do not mistake me. You are better to us in whole health than with a dead arm, and for those who may die much more effort must be given, and fewer ready to raise their blade all the while. Be sure to take care of yourself, as soon as you are able to. The healer's will know when and how."

Though she hated to admit it, she'd become far more pragmatic in recent years. Life of all sorts were of deep importance to her, but the preservation of her people had become paramount. Arkhivom and his ilk sought to undo them, and it was with a near sense of desperation that the Aerai resisted. It crept into her, and without her knowing, changed her little by little.


Sharyrdaes proved to be a large city, taking quite some time to travel through to where they were headed. As they moved up the levels, it was on into the fourth tier where almost everybody they came across was an elf. All of them were very fair, with varying shades of blond hair but predominately white or platinum. These parts of the city were the best kept, and looked to have little to no evidence of conflict as the lower levels had. The people seemed friendly enough, some regarding them as they passed by with regal nods, but for the most part they were a very quiet people.

Entering into the sixth tier, there was a vast courtyard, far larger than the one in the first tier. Standing tall and wide at the far side was the Temple she'd pointed out before, and on either side the city continued, build around this vast structure which ascended into the next tier beyond.

"From the balconies above you can see out over the entire city. Its quite marvelous with the lower levels inhabited once again," she remarked, and pointed high up the tall walls before them as they approached.

 
"We are more resilient than you give us credit for, Lady Anie," he said in a quiet, tight voice. "We humans are, that is. If the Divine wishes me to be healed, then so it shall be."

He did not like the idea of accepting the touch of magic unless it was necessary. Sometimes it was, but this was a simple burn. It hurt, it lit his nerves on fire and made him reluctant to look at the damage. Even so, he had been Her blade for a long time as humans reckoned it. Decades of service. He had been stabbed, bludgeoned, burned, and beaten bloody. He had been tortured in Her service. He had been in places where there was little hope of salvation.

The Grey Lady had come through every time.

The edge of desperation in her voice was matched by the resolute will in his stride, stance, gait. Humanity thrived off of determination, and thus had he lived. In stoic silence, he followed.

***

The way was indeed long, but after a while he became disinterested in the splendor of the city. He was not given much to flights of fancy or much of an imagination, either. Both were not strictly speaking valuable assets in his line of work, which tended towards serious conversations with people who did not want to speak to him. That, or killing in the name of Justice.

Of course, there were deeper reasons. He had his past, after all. Some things stung more than others did, wounded more deeply.

"I am sure that it is, Lady," he replied politely. The gravel in his voice was omnipresent, however. "Although, truth to tell, many things of beauty or lost on me. I am a sword for the Lady, and little more." Especially now. Pain rode behind that thought, but it did not bear thinking on too much.
 
  • Cthuloo
Reactions: Ánië Táralóm
As they came near, they ascended a long set of lazy steps up toward a tall and wide archway. There, large, ornate wooden doors were opened wide, and from within there were a number of elves that came and went. As they came near the tall, open archway of the temple, those that had traveled there with them carried on to other things, leaving them more to themselves.

She stopped with him there, and looked up to him with a somewhat pale, solemn expression. She canted her head, "are you forbidden from appreciating the goodness you fight for, Erin?"

 
  • Cthuulove
Reactions: Erin the Black
"I am not," he replied evenly. "I can see the beauty in your city, in this temple. In you." He looked at her briefly, eyes hidden behind steel and expression lost to shadows.

"It is only that the Lady has made things difficult for me." A shadow flitted through his voice. He could not speak of the things that had been done to him after executing Her will. The fact that he was beyond the borders of his homeland at all spoke volumes enough. The Seekers did not often venture into the world unless a particularly noisome heretic went beyond Her disciples reach.

The brand on his back burned then, suddenly. He clenched his fists as pain washed through him and vanished.

"Surely your patron tests you, too?"
 
  • Melting
Reactions: Ánië Táralóm
There was a brief hesitation in her. She betrayed very little, perhaps the subtle shake of her head, the flaring of her nostrils, the up curl of her brows. Then a quick downcast glance before she turned away, looking into the temple, hiding the subtle warmth in her cheek.

"I understand of course," she said with a nod, "scars heal stronger for a reason."

She smiled, and he head lowered some, "I have witnessed the falling of my people from great grace, and am now forced to slay my own kin. Yes, She tests me."

And yet, when she looked to him again she did so with a smile, and a welcoming gesture inward, "come, there is something I'd like to show you."

 
  • Thoughtful
Reactions: Maranae
He did not look to her, merely nodded solemnly. "I am sorry that you must endure such," he said, and meant it.

He could tell her that the strength borne of such terrible actions - brought about by the whims of her patron - would make her resolute, pure in her faith. But he knew. He knew. Some could not survive the challenges of their patron. Some broke under the strain, and turned to heresy.

He nodded again as she gestured, and followed. He considered her as he walked, inwardly shaking his head. Elfin, with all the benefits of those of fae ancestry; long life, good health, and a strength that radiated out into the world. How long had she been facing this challenge of faith? How many of her brothers and sisters had she been forced to put down like rabid dogs?

More than he had, for certain. And the scars from his own purification and abjurations in the name of the Grey Lady had left his soul raw. And that not to speak of the mortal consequences; a family lost, A name ruined. And worse, so much worse than that. What of hers? Of the others of her ilk?

Unaware of it, he clenched his fists until the leather in his gauntlets creaked. Cruel. It was cruel and seemingly unjust and entirely like the Grey Lady. Justice was blind, and never painless and even if the reason was not apparent, he was so certain that it existed that he had flayed himself time and again in pursuit of it.

What would it be like to live that life for a hundred years? Hundreds?

Thousands?
 
  • Love
Reactions: Ánië Táralóm
Her eyes fell to the ground before her as they walked, and she offered a subtle and no doubt unseen nod. There was a deep appreciation for the genuine expression from him, to which she could at least offer some remark.

"To each their own trials," she said, echoing words spoken many times by many others before her.

On into the temple, they walked down an elevated path that cut down the center of a terribly vast cathedral. On either side of this elevation were several steps down onto a wide flat floor on either side, and on either side there were great statues of the Celestial Pantheon standing tall, or wide archways leading on down long corridors. At the far end, directly ahead, the greatest of these many graven images stood before them. Astra, beholding upward with her arms open, and on either side of her a rounding staircase.

As they came near to the great image, Ánië came to a halt before her, saying, "this is Astra. It is said when the War in Heaven spilled here onto Arethil, her benevolence cast the fewest scars upon the world. It is she who I hearken to, and call to in prayer. I hope to dwell in her halls when my days here are done."

As she looked upon it, and spoke of it, there was a clear admiration in Ánië toward this god, not some fleeting infatuation with the divine.

"It is written that our gods test us with only as much as our souls can bear, but I must admit even I have asked if this was true from time to time."

 
  • Thoughtful
Reactions: Erin the Black
He could feel the vestment of this place even as he stepped onto the grounds themselves.

Most would never notice. Most self-professed believers did not actually believe in their patrons, or in the truth of God. Even in their own gods or goddesses. It was a rot that had set in to even the clergy of the lesser ones.

There were those that would foolishly deny the existence of other gods outside their own. Erin was not one of these and, in fact, Her Church did not believe in such folly either. The Lady was simply ascendant among them all, no matter what the others thought. Not first among equals, but Highest among a pantheon of small gods whose congregations lacked true belief.

"I am familiar with the Queen," he said. As an initiate of the Church, he was required to learn all of the errant religions of the world. He did not add anything else to the statement, though, because he could see and he could hear her faith.

Anie appeared to be one of those for whom their faith was not a part of their day-to-day ablutions. He could feel the quiet, resolute power of it while standing next to her. After a moment of deliberate thought, he reached up and removed the steel helm he wore and revealed a face that was absolutely...

...mundane. His eyes flowed upward to regard each of the statues of the gods and goddesses of the Celestial pantheon.

"I will not be permitted to walk Her halls," he said as he traced each statue. Hard eyes, hard face carefully blank of any kind of emotion. "I will forever walk the darkness between the stars. So it is written," he added gravely.

He turned his head only, the creak of the leather binding his plate the only sound. "What power is there in faith untested? She will seek to push the truly Faithful to the utmost limit. Half-hearted faith is worse than outright heresy," he said quietly. Outright heresy was faith in its own way, however undesirable.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back