The Red Trial

[jamesb 218]

 

Dusk had fallen over the lush city of Laureh’lin, a quiet breeze occasionally rolling through. The skies were cloudless, and there was not a single star in sight. Darkness consumed the streets, only fought by the occasional candle or two.

 

A congregation of mali and valah alike had formed around Laureh’lin’s decorative Hall, each of them intrigued by what was taking place within. Sirame lingered both inside and out, doing all they could to maintain order.

 

But the city’s guardforce would not be enough.

 

The diversified audience whispered amongst themselves, struggling to catch a glimpse at the action taking place inside. Nobility and common folk fraternized, for Eloh’ra Siil'crux knew some in both category, and they had come to watch her conviction.

 

The final witness stood stoically across from the accused ‘aheral. Dark blue robes were slung across his shoulders, a plain white shirt beneath. Attentive green eyes were set into his aging visage, his untrimmed hair already beginning to grey. He dictated his responses with consideration.

 

When the lone human had concluded his testimony, Artimec, the judge, spoke. “Idem, lead Sam to the exit. He has said his piece.” And so Sam rose, moving smoothly to the exit.

 

“Eloh’ra Siil'crux is sentenced to thirty lashes, and a brand to the cheek.” Artimec announced, as soon as the gates had thundered shut behind the departing witness. He spoke with a smile tugged over his lips, finally having achieved his vengeance; but he would not be the only one achieving vengeance that night.

 

A sickening crack broke out within the Hall, all eyes turning towards the balcony. A solitary figure stood there, an eldritch guise masking their features. Their digits were tightened about a crossbow, bone-chilling gaze set upon Artimec. The assassin had already discharged their bolt. The stunned audience veered their gazes towards their Prince, only in time to see him crumple, dark red staining his green attire.

 

Chaos.

 

Druids dashed forth to aid their fallen ally, and any who carried blades brandished them. Screams tore through the city, and all fingers pointed towards the shooter, who remained idle. He did not flee as men marched their way towards him.

 

The attacker’s gloved fingers allowed the crossbow to clatter towards the ground. Artimec would live, but he had done what he came to do; in the confusion, Eloh'ra had escaped.

 

His lips parted, releasing a final scream of defiance: “Death to Druids! Praise unto Xion!”

 

And he fell from the balcony, to his death.

 

We fear the Old Dark.

 

[ImCookiie 1950]

 

"Fear the Old Dark."

[1 1393]

A disgruntled Irhamir sighs.

[justDEWit 133]

Ravondir shivered visibly as a young friend told him about the event. "Yeesh, shooting the Prince? Something interesting is going to happen." He nodded singularly, rolling his shoulders.

[JEEGK 1367]

"Fear the old dark..." A nimble high elf creaks out.

[__WaterFox__ 636]

"Fanatics... Seems like they started in the Caliphate... Perhaps their proper name is Hasheeshan", mused Alirya

[ThatWeirdGirl 432]

Fawynn washed the blood off her dress, grateful that the assassin hadn't fired again after she pulled Artimec to safety.

[trinn 5146]

A pensive high elf sits upon her desk with her head in hands, regretting her actions that night.

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

Artimec grunted as he shaved off the tufts of fur from his chest...an unfortunate effect of Callax's beardweed.

 

"What now?" Asked a watching dark elven Sirame.

 

"A well timed assassination attempt if ever there was one." he said with a smile, a tad pained still even after the druids had worked their magic on the place where a bolt once embedded in his flesh.

 

"How so?" The soldier asked, perplexed.

 

"No man can dispute Eloh'ras guilt now. She may have gotten away with her deeds before, but after she admitted to being Xionist, and after her comrade put a bolt in my rib? No. Now Sanctuary must decide, do they willingly harbour necromancers or do they hand over the guilty to us?" Artimec waved the soldier closer with a grimace. The Sirame complied and slipped himself under the Prince's shoulder to support him as he stood.

 

"Thank you, Berr." The wood elf muttered, letting himself be limped over to the town hall. "Ah, how I missed this...just when I thought life was getting stale. Nothing like a good hunt to get your blood pumping eh? I look forward to it."

 

The Sirame may have seemed a bit petrurbed by Artimec's oddly enthusiastic, yet still tired grin, but simply nodded in response, leading Art over to the corpse of the assassin.

 

"Thank you, leave me."

 

As the soldier clanked off, Artimec knelt in front of the body laid out across the grass. The corpse had no head and no hands, evidence taken for later use. His eyes flashed a dim green glow beneath his closed lids as he murmured out reverently.

 

"Aspects, take this soul which I offer you."

 

As he spoke, roots snaked out of the earth and curled about the body, dragging it slowly into the dense earth.

 

"Cerridwen, heal my wounds, breath new life into me, bring about new life in this ones' death. See the cycle born anew. Cernunnos, heal grant me cunning and swiftness, for now I shall hunt in your name, I shall kill for your cause."

 

The glow in his eye faded, the corpse submerged fully into the earth. He planted the sapling of a little oak tree over where it had been, rising up, and murmuring softly.

 

"Aspects will guide us through this fight."

 

 

 

[Guest]

The Lord of Torment Dralazar rocks on his heels, plates rattling before he moves to relax on his somber throne.



 

Quote

"Let them fall to me, let them all fall at my feet. I will raise the legions of the past, I will alleviate the dead, torn souls of Elysium. I will ravage this realm with such a fierce intensity that the followers of Iblees, Aeriel, Tahariae, and Xan shall bend their broken knees; and only then shall I deliver my final spiteful blow as I decapitate their leaders one by one. Let this wave of dissent begin, let madness and insanity run their course as I bend the world to my whims."

 

[molly molly molly 1329]

A bearded mali, distinguishable as only Kolohe Finnigan, gruff with his tongue, and thick with his accent spoke;

"Ame nae everah." 

[Cave_Creature 467]

Salhassan faintly remembers the assassin stabbing himself quite messily in the eye socket, rather than leaping heroically from a ledge.

[luv 3469]

"Fear the old dark."

A red hooded woman would state, quickly shuffling off.

[Zarsies 6795]

Dreary digits dig down, dark documents damaged; droning, "Direful deviants."

[LadyRebecca 1050]

While gathering medicinal herbs and various plants out in the forests surrounding the city of the Mali'ame, Arahaelth would be brought word of what came to pass. Paling at the news of Artimec's attempted assassination, she bids her messenger "Van'ayla". Quietly, she moves deeper into the wood, her light footfalls echoing about the serenity of the trees. As she comes to stand before the towering mass of a great Elderwood tree, she offers wordless prayers to her Gods. As her lips move and eyes remain focused on the foliage above her, the only noise to be heard would be the faint rustle of leaves and quiet chirping of songbirds.