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Watchmen's Report


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Smog spreading over the moors of Inmarilla, a bad omen. . .

Art by Artem Demura

 

The following is intended as private RP

It was so quiet now.  One might think to find peace in it, though there was only dread; a gripping tension that made you feel as if you teetered upon the precipice of despair.  No silence in this land lasts for long anymore.  The siege upon the city never truly ends, like waves crashing into a rocky shore--one by one they hit and ever so slowly carve into the stones.  Persistent.  Endless.  One day Caldhurom might finally fall to the Infernal Scourge; her white, smoke-stained walls will cave in and there will be nothing but slaughter in the streets.  One day. . .  it would happen, but the denizens were adamant to endure for as long as they could; One day it would come, but not this day.  Perhaps if they withstood long enough, they could reclaim their home from the grip of the devils.

 

Perselia stood watch to the east, positioned in one of the towers marking the walls.  She had a clear view of the devastation that became of her land; there was a time before she was born that the sun shone over everything.  The sky was blue, a bright blue; the fields were green and bursting with life--people could even spend days out there, with no worry.  There were beliefs that such sights might still be found today, far off - perhaps past the mountains that defined the eastern horizon, viewable through a haze of perpetual smog.  Some days the smoke would be so dense that the land and sky would blur together in a muddled mess of darkness and fiery glows.  This time, however, Perselia could view those mountains--the first time the atmosphere cleared up enough in a month, since the last advance against Caldhurom was made.

 

The light of her candle flickered, a few soft crackles followed; she had been on watch for three hours by the sound of it.  There was no other good way to tell the time there, given that the sun could rarely be viewed; there would be no shadows to measure.  Perselia's watch would be a few more long hours as this, sitting in watchful silence; almost in suspense.  Yet to view those mountains brought a stillness to her; respite was found in the wonderment of a land marked by no scars of the devils. . . Though she was stirred from those idle dreams, as something caught her attention to the east.

 

R E P O R T   O F   P E R S E L I A

  • Hour I: A swarm of Rotters spotted moving to the south, likely perched near Faith's Rock.  Dim light viewable around there, hellfire.
  • Hour II: Scavengers returned to the fields, no more than twenty imps.  Caravan potted to northern gate; more refugees.
  • Hour III: Light to the east, a flash--white and small.  Seen near the mountains, cannot be the sun.
  • Hour IV: Flash of light spotted again to the east--cause unknown.
  • Hour V: Scavengers have left.  No other flashes seen to the east.

 

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