[Vision] Kindling

[MALUKOR 225]

Spoiler

 

Open to all.

 

 

Your sleep is interrupted by the chime of a distant prayer-bell.

 

Feeling is restored, first. Manacles grasp your neck, wrists, and ankles. And then - sight. A circle of figures lean close about you. Beyond them, an endless hall; a spruce path with stone walls, so long that you cannot see the end. Grating voices, murmured and mumbled, speak huskily - with reverence, and raspiness. And hunger.

 

 

 

“Descendant…”

 

“Descendanttt...”

 

“Such a prize…”

 

"Such a priiizsse..."

 

 

 

More memories come to you, like ice packed around your throat. A stormy sea - a hard landing. Tall mountains, and snow; shrieking in the distance. A ruined city. Explosions, sorcery that cracked the world apart and eclipsed the light of the moon. 

 

It is all fuzzy. You shake your head. You do not recall enough. Elven sorcerers and cultists encircle you, their skin sucked tight about their bones, their eyes dull with age and misery. You cannot tell which speaks - or if, indeed, any of them even are.

 

 

 

“You hath returned…”

 

“What was sworn…”

 

“To He who was promised…”

 

“Everything.”

 

 

 

You do not know what they speak of. You can only squint at them, befuddled but silent. Waiting for elaboration.

 

 

 

“Vessel for…”

 

“The pride…”

 

“The strength…”

 

“We shall glory…”

 

“In your misery.”

 

 

 

You taunt and laugh, boomingly, with a voice far deeper than your own. “Damnation awaits you! Eternal torment! How long can you cling, wicked fools?”

 

 

 

“Your bravery…”

 

“Nothing but kindling…”

 

“For the coil…”

 

“The end of your race.”

 

“All honour will be cast…”

 

“As ash…”

 

“To the winds.”

 

 

 

“Where the GOD shall gather it!” You scream with lunatic defiance, roar with a strength not your own. Your voice echoes down the endless halls.

 

 

 

"Your eyes..."

 

"Shall be put out..."

 

"Your fingers..."

 

"Cut from you..."

 

"And I shall give you over..."

 

"To my children..."

 

"To their hunger..."

 

“And when all is done…”

 

“You will tell me…”

 

“Where your accursed river…”

 

“Has concealed…”

 

“The Mountain-Spirit’s bla-”

 

 

A soft, distant chime, and you wake.