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CONSEQUENCES


Icarnus
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An old and senile old man has no idea how people can respond to another person’s comment from miles away, though makes nothing of it and quickly goes back to beating squirrels. 

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   Maladem Uuthlini, upon hearing news of war, opens up his prayer book and makes supplication to Jiub the Strong, “Stalwart Jiub, make me strong. May I never cower, nor shrink away, but face foe and fear alike. May I never not scorn peril, nor flee from hardship. May I never doubt myself, nor my kin, nor my Ancestors. 
   Oh Iron ‘Ker, set our people on a bedrock foundation. Make our armor hard as obsidian, and our spirits solid as onyx. Make us unassailable by siege or subterfuge. May armies fail against us, and heretics flee before us. Make us mighty in battle and firm in faith.”
He then glances suspiciously around, wondering if some random eavesdropper somehow managed to hear him from whatever far-flung corner of Arcas, as it seems to be a common power, even among those possessing no magical aptitude.

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“I look forward to smacking Suticans about once more as I did in my youth.” Lily would say, sipping her tea, a smile on her face as she rocks back and forth in her chair.

Edited by rukio
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Skylar Taliame'onn waved his hand femininely, sending wisps of incense in dainty clouds that trailed upwards from his desk. His fingernails casted a soft purple glow, acting like jewels floating through the dark, candle-lit parlor. His emerald eyes scanned the words, tapping the desk with his fingers that weren't in the air. “Honored be the Huntsman and the Mani of War,” he uttered in a hushed, prayerful tone. 

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