Third Edition

Moderator: Logos Invictus

 
User avatar
Friv
Essence 6
Essence 6
Topic Author
Posts: 1072
Joined: 28 Jan 2006, 00:42
Title: Splinter of Mokrelus
Exalt: Elemental
Fighting Style: Spell-Fu
Artifact: The Crucible of Tarim
Location: Toronto
Contact:

Age of Blood And Bone, Part Forty-Eight: No Regrets

09 Jan 2009, 01:47

I hope that this chapter will speak for itself.
-----

“How much longer are we going to be?” Pacing back and forth, Tenrek looked ahead as the centre of the Maker’s core approached. The platform was now flying well over a hundred miles an hour, the terrain below speeding by and the great pillar in the distance growing steadily larger. All of the Exalts were gathered away from its edge, conscious of the lack of railings to prevent an unpleasant end.

“Calm down. There’s no one here but us.” Eyes closed, Kieran was still motioning with his hands, bending and smoothing out invisible lines as, below the fast-flying platform, towers shifted and conduits of Essence began to flow, creating a long and shining beacon that lit the path back to the way from which they’d come. “Even the Deathlords can’t enter Autochthon’s core – they’re dead. And there aren’t any Abyssals close enough to intervene. Hath was the guardian of the Maker, and with his death, the path was cleared for us.” He paused, considering the hordes of the dead that they’d fought through. “More or less.”

“As reassuring as that was, it wasn’t an answer.” Tenrek said.

“Another minute or two, if you stop bothering me. This part’s actually pretty easy – I just have to create enough power to break the eight Seals locking Autochthon away, which means connecting it from the core. The first seal should break any time now, and the rest will be fully open by the time we reach the spire. If Gaia got everything ready on her end, Autochthon should wake up a few minutes after that.”

“Alright, quieting down, then. I’ll leave you to it.” Tenrek stepped away from the platform’s edge, crouching worriedly. Behind him, Fokuf and Alina were resting peacefully, haggard from their earlier fight.

Draniel smirked. “Nervous?”

Tenrek snorted. “Who, me? Autochthon’s on our side. If anyone here were going to be nervous, I’m pretty sure that it would have to be you.”

“What? How do you plan to deal with…” Draniel broke off abruptly, his face going slack and then gradually forming into a broad smile. “The first seal has broken open.”

Alina looked up in surprise. “How can you tell?”

“Because, however faintly, I can hear my grandmother’s voice again, finally. And she…” Draniel broke off again as the second seal broke, his Grandmother’s voice whispered through him.

The Betrayer lives. He wakes. He must be destroyed. He cannot be given another chance to ruin everything. He clenched his eyes shut as his patron’s needs echoed through his mind, faint but growing stronger, hate and fear in equal measures with every breath of wind blowing through him. He arranged his thoughts, laid his mind open for her. Around him, he was dimly aware that his current companions were staring at him with mixtures of confusion and suspicion on their faces. It didn’t matter. The Silent Wind had to be made aware of…

The third seal broke. No! No chances! He must be destroyed!

For a moment, Draniel could not tell if the thought was his or his Grandmother’s. But that sense of connection which he had longed for now filled him with fear. He blinked once, looked around. Alina had her chakram out, and had stepped protectively in front of Kieran. Fokuf was hefting his backpack, and Tenrek had settled into his fighting pose. Draniel did not understand why.

“You would break the…” He broke off again, feeling weight in his hands. Looked down to see that his razor claws were already on.

“Draniel, you swore peace.” Fokuf’s voice was tight.

“She does not see.” Draniel closed his eyes again. He sent his thoughts, as urgently as he could. Adorjan had to understand that these actions would doom her cause.

She did not. The thoughts buffeted his mind as the gateway continued to open. The fourth seal shattered as Kieran continued to work, not realizing that every one increased her control. Kill the shaper! Kill the Betrayer! You swore that you would kill him. You swore that you would die for her. Strike them down!

She did not see. She did not understand. But he was loyal to her, above all things. He had sworn that. No matter what, if he gave his life and soul for his Grandmother, it would be a worthwhile cause. It was so obvious, what he had to do. Serve Grandmother. Death before corruption.

Draniel raised his claws, pulled his Essence around himself. Green light blazed around him, as he spoke with great difficulty. “The gateway is opening too much. I cannot resist her desires much longer.” He hesitated, gaze sweeping the others, and paused on Tenrek. “Perhaps you were right after all, priest of the Sun. Perhaps even the Primordials must fight their urges. But they cannot.” With blinding speed, as the others moved to fight, he struck.

Blood spilled across the platform. Draniel took a half-step backwards, and smiled a faint smile. He coughed, more blood leaving his mouth to join the deep pools flowing from his chest. He twisted his wrists, shaking them free of the razor claws buried deep in his own chest, and took a step backwards as the others watched in shock. Alina whispered all of their thoughts. “Why…?”

“Because the Maker must live, for my Grandmother to triumph, and she cannot see that. Because every act of virtue is a triumph over ourselves.” Pain was bringing focus, pushing back his Grandmother’s incomprehension, and he took a second step. “My life is in her service. I have no regrets.”

A final step backwards, and he fell from the platform, trailing blood as he plunged towards the towers of the Maker. He watched his death approaching, felt his life fade, and he smiled. He had succeeded. Goodbye, Grandmother. I only hope… that you can forgive me.
"Some people walk in the rain. Others merely get wet."

Patchwork Champions - You say "to-ma-toe", I say "world-ravaging-laser-beam".
 
User avatar
Dinosaur
Essence 10
Essence 10
Posts: 10456
Joined: 08 Aug 2005, 00:46
Title: Social Justice Kaiju
Exalt: Lunar
Fighting Style: Natural Weapons
Artifact: Audient Quill
Location: Most Emphatically NOT in the Wyld

Re: Age of Blood And Bone, Part Forty-Eight: No Regrets

09 Jan 2009, 10:34

And, being broken, the Yozis need someone else to see clearly for them. Unfortunately, they seem to forget.
I write stories. No, really.
 
User avatar
BrilliantRain
Essence 8
Essence 8
Posts: 5362
Joined: 17 Aug 2005, 14:50
Title: The City of Mod
Exalt: Alchemical
Fighting Style: Primordial-Machine Weaving
Artifact: Eye of Autochthon
Location: Nurad
Contact:

Re: Age of Blood And Bone, Part Forty-Eight: No Regrets

09 Jan 2009, 10:51

I feel sorry for him.
Avatar by Girl Genius

Mod Text is in Green

Do you have enough Tools, King of All Craftsmen?
 
User avatar
Anteros
Essence 5
Essence 5
Posts: 541
Joined: 09 Dec 2007, 04:23
Title: Yozilicious
Exalt: Infernal
Fighting Style: Poke Them In The Eye Style
Artifact: Pernicious Delight [Hellstrider]
Location: I'm in Yu-Shan, corrupting yur godz

Re: Age of Blood And Bone, Part Forty-Eight: No Regrets

09 Jan 2009, 15:50

Man, it's awful when the worshippers are smarter than their gods.
The best custom D&D setting[color=#FF0000] EVER[/color]: [url]http://www.sigilprep.com/[/url]
 
User avatar
BrilliantRain
Essence 8
Essence 8
Posts: 5362
Joined: 17 Aug 2005, 14:50
Title: The City of Mod
Exalt: Alchemical
Fighting Style: Primordial-Machine Weaving
Artifact: Eye of Autochthon
Location: Nurad
Contact:

Re: Age of Blood And Bone, Part Forty-Eight: No Regrets

09 Jan 2009, 17:05

Not smarter. The Yozies are incomprehensible beings beyond anything we know and they are orders of magnitude smarter than an UnExalted human can be.

The problem is that they are also not used to being wrong, listening to ants, or dealing with fear and anger constructively.
Avatar by Girl Genius

Mod Text is in Green

Do you have enough Tools, King of All Craftsmen?
 
User avatar
Deaths Pale Mistress
Essence 7
Essence 7
Posts: 4757
Joined: 01 Apr 2006, 02:18
Title: Deathlord-Empress of the Underworld
Exalt: Ghost
Fighting Style: Close-quarters combat
Artifact: The Kiss of Midnight
Location: Unholy Stygia

Re: Age of Blood And Bone, Part Forty-Eight: No Regrets

10 Jan 2009, 14:29

So far and above our level of comprehension it couldnt be expressed in writing, spoken word or thought process. Even the way they feel emotions is the same. Poor Draniel.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 4 guests