(Timeline: Post Kyle Trial)
There is a dripping sound within Sencliff's halls, it was a slow maddening thing if one listened to it for too long. In the highest room perched at the darkwood desk laden with various maps, scrolls, letters, and scraps of prophetic writings that were amassed, was the master of her domain. Her eyes wandered over the contents after having studied various ravings of world consuming destroyers and promised heroes, reaching up with an exhausted sigh as she rubbed over her heavy eyes.
In the quiet she could hear even to the main entrance if it was disturbed, instead though she heard the chatter of her companion and the two young children who now called this place home. Their precious babbling should have softened her, but the weight of the realm seemed to darken her thoughts and she had not the heart to hush them. He deserved that small peace, knowing they were safe under his care.
Her dominant hand would clutch her ruby tipped stave to her right, clawing restlessly in thought as she kept it erect even while she was seated. Sarina's free hand was outstretched forth as she touched over some small minature carvings, her fingerless gloves allowing her fingertips to run over the hewn surfaces. Each to represent a person, three in total. A smaller female gnomelike figure with an oversized stave, an otherwise indistinct male monk garbed completely in light attire, and the one she held was still rather unfinished, a female in robes with a thin stave like her own but the face unmade and flat for now.
Seated there her eyes seemed distant, lost even as within her own head her mind raced beyond light and time. Never alone, not even for a breath, she could hear the whispers clawing at the edges of her mind. Hissing sounds that were alluring, if they weren't also terrifying to the core.
“They will tear you apart in the streets.. animals that they are, jealous, small minded fools.”
The priestess winced, glancing only briefly over her shoulder as if to confront the speaker, but none were there. Turning back she felt a wave of anger and bitterness wash over her again, it wasn't who she was hoping for. Her mind wandering back to the former First Matron Aunilarra Zau'myr's words.
“Fate worse than death..”
Oh how right she was, how close the drow had come to piercing that ongoing ache in her existance. Trying to convince herself now how she would never abandon her oath, her promise. They would only ever be one, near or far, her heart pumped the blood that they'd shared. And in turn she'd in part become a Dragonsong as well. She knew this trap in her own mind though, shaking her head as she refocused on the carved figure in her fingers once more. The emotion forced her to set it down carefully as she drew an uneven breath.
Her eyes regained some focus as they drifted to the edges of the room, studying the shadows as she always did, a pained expression on her face as she didn't notice the moisture running down her cheeks. This world was so dark to her, and she wanted to scream and battle it, willingly exhausting herself to the brink of falling one last time. A war she could never win, her thoughts flashing now back to Kyle Frayer-Eldafire and what he must have endured, a silent prayer as she searched through the sea of souls for him and found his light dim and go beyond her reach. How she wanted to spare him such a fate, wrap her wings about him to shelter him from the hatred and the pain.
Her eyes shivered a bit, these were not dragon's wings any longer, but a devil's. The fallen, in solitude she allowed herself the chance to silently weep. The quiet bringing forth that soft plinking sound of dripping. A river of her blood running along the black wood of her stave from her cut hand, sanguine drops meeting the cobbled floor.
Only when she emerged would the mask be restored, a murmur and a soft weave of light to mend the wound, 'no weakness'.
That Which is Lost
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Re: That Which is Lost
Another day passes, the sound of water falling returns, a hissing breath to hide the pain as the woman dragged herself through the halls. Eyes searching with a steady frantic, her chest pounding as she gave her staff the steady lead with every step. To all others it was silent as a tomb, but in her own mind was a hurricane of words striking from every angle without relent.
'They see you for what you are, look at yourself. The monster, the traitor, the villainous scum.' She gave a pained breath as her shield was set aside, the steps became hurried, glancing back in fear. 'Devour you.. precious little thing.. so forgiving and sweet. Delicious to all who would partake.. she knew it, she wanted you, she was begging for the chance to dip that knife into your belly.. you saw.. you knew.' The priestess' vision became blurred, as her hand scraped and clawed for the stone walls as she tried to escape to her chambers, catching a jagged edge she pierced her palm flesh again. Cringing, the pain came flooding through her mind as the voices became louder and more frenzied with the life essence flowing freely.
'The Gods have abandoned you.. the people have left you.. they hate you.. sins are not fogiven, they are paid for. Redemption is a lie.. your fate is sealed.' No longer whispers but a wrathful song screaming through her mind as she sealed the reinforced door with a heavy metalic thud. It was endless now, her eyes scanning the room as she breathed another prayer to enhance her vision. Barely whispering, “No one.. clear.” Her methodical sweep with her eyes was brief, scanning all corners and angles.
Pulse pounding in her ears she hardly noticed the sick laughter in her own mind. 'You cannot run from it, you saw it, they all saw YOU..' The taunting tones endless as she tried to let her mind focus. The archmage, the elves, the slaves, the drow, anyone, anything other than these wretched words. Grasping her hair she'd scream out her lungs in agony and dye her own golden mane with fresh blood.
Hours drifted by, perhaps even days she could not be certain.
Was it a castle, was it a cage. Was it all a lie. The smiles of those she'd helped faded like mists from her vision, she dare not trust them, she dare not become comfortable. In the haze her thoughts drifted further back.
“I want to consume you.. I want to devour you and make you my own.” Sabine..
Shaking for a time, the stress of this war within left her worn and limp. Saving her friends, having some semblance of humanity return to her, and of all things to feel she was terrified. To her right was a terrible roar that yearned to return, to stand in the light, and on her left was a darkness she'd grown to know too well. Having forgiven and been wronged by so many, yet she saw no way back, even after all she'd done. A cold chill gripped her chest as she lay there in a distressful heap. She dare not breathe a prayer or ask for help, she no longer knew who or what might answer anymore.
Akira was restored, her companions were safe and well, so many things going right. Yet she was everything wrong.
'How much longer.. will I last.' Her head hit the floor, it would be a dull ache in the morning. And none would be the wiser.
'They see you for what you are, look at yourself. The monster, the traitor, the villainous scum.' She gave a pained breath as her shield was set aside, the steps became hurried, glancing back in fear. 'Devour you.. precious little thing.. so forgiving and sweet. Delicious to all who would partake.. she knew it, she wanted you, she was begging for the chance to dip that knife into your belly.. you saw.. you knew.' The priestess' vision became blurred, as her hand scraped and clawed for the stone walls as she tried to escape to her chambers, catching a jagged edge she pierced her palm flesh again. Cringing, the pain came flooding through her mind as the voices became louder and more frenzied with the life essence flowing freely.
'The Gods have abandoned you.. the people have left you.. they hate you.. sins are not fogiven, they are paid for. Redemption is a lie.. your fate is sealed.' No longer whispers but a wrathful song screaming through her mind as she sealed the reinforced door with a heavy metalic thud. It was endless now, her eyes scanning the room as she breathed another prayer to enhance her vision. Barely whispering, “No one.. clear.” Her methodical sweep with her eyes was brief, scanning all corners and angles.
Pulse pounding in her ears she hardly noticed the sick laughter in her own mind. 'You cannot run from it, you saw it, they all saw YOU..' The taunting tones endless as she tried to let her mind focus. The archmage, the elves, the slaves, the drow, anyone, anything other than these wretched words. Grasping her hair she'd scream out her lungs in agony and dye her own golden mane with fresh blood.
Hours drifted by, perhaps even days she could not be certain.
Was it a castle, was it a cage. Was it all a lie. The smiles of those she'd helped faded like mists from her vision, she dare not trust them, she dare not become comfortable. In the haze her thoughts drifted further back.
“I want to consume you.. I want to devour you and make you my own.” Sabine..
Shaking for a time, the stress of this war within left her worn and limp. Saving her friends, having some semblance of humanity return to her, and of all things to feel she was terrified. To her right was a terrible roar that yearned to return, to stand in the light, and on her left was a darkness she'd grown to know too well. Having forgiven and been wronged by so many, yet she saw no way back, even after all she'd done. A cold chill gripped her chest as she lay there in a distressful heap. She dare not breathe a prayer or ask for help, she no longer knew who or what might answer anymore.
Akira was restored, her companions were safe and well, so many things going right. Yet she was everything wrong.
'How much longer.. will I last.' Her head hit the floor, it would be a dull ache in the morning. And none would be the wiser.
Re: That Which is Lost
The waters lap against the Sencliff shore now, an endless flow of sound as the forces of the sea try to eat away at the rock face of the desolate locale. A lone ship docks in the cover of the fortress, the captain missing from her deck. Looking down into the hold the navigator cries out, “We've arrived, tie her off.. make way for the Governess!” The men working dutifully to task as everything was made ready and steady, the skiff hoisted and ready. The woman in red emerging with a grim silence to her.
Her strides were strong, none dare get in her way or impede her for even a moment. She'd already cast two crewmen overboard, seemingly without a warning the defenestrations occurred, sealing their fates to the sharks tailing the ship so close to the island. The snows had given the Liberator a light white layering but it would soon melt under the protected berth of Sencliff.
Her stone steps were solitary, all were commanded to remain afar. The doors sealed, Sarina looked back to the hall of stone behind her. 'This is where you are safe, yes.. none can approach you now.. Not even she.. they can't hurt you anymore. This is your fortress.. this is your home.' The bitter tone in her mind sang sweetly, making her growl back at the dark silence. Her eyes scanning meticulously, her mind replaying the events over and over with the words gnawing at her.
'He answered the question right.. they are watching you.. they know too much.. perhaps they know it all, already? You are alone dear.. not even your valiant protector can be trusted.. none of them can. All fakes, all lies.. you see how they fall lifeless. What is the difference between one and the other.. all hearts stop the same..' Turning sharply she snarled as some feral beast might, as it's what she'd devolved into now. Hearing the tongue of the unmakers being spoken freely, all these decepctions and lies. It was all noise she wanted to push away. Who cared about saving anyone else, when she started to feel that cold ache in her heart, a wound that never healed, a memory she never lost. 'No one can save you, little dragon.'
Turning further into the layers of the keep, it was a prison as much as it was her sanctuary. It was a cruel and wicked irony now. How long could she last. When would this nightmare end.
Her strides were strong, none dare get in her way or impede her for even a moment. She'd already cast two crewmen overboard, seemingly without a warning the defenestrations occurred, sealing their fates to the sharks tailing the ship so close to the island. The snows had given the Liberator a light white layering but it would soon melt under the protected berth of Sencliff.
Her stone steps were solitary, all were commanded to remain afar. The doors sealed, Sarina looked back to the hall of stone behind her. 'This is where you are safe, yes.. none can approach you now.. Not even she.. they can't hurt you anymore. This is your fortress.. this is your home.' The bitter tone in her mind sang sweetly, making her growl back at the dark silence. Her eyes scanning meticulously, her mind replaying the events over and over with the words gnawing at her.
'He answered the question right.. they are watching you.. they know too much.. perhaps they know it all, already? You are alone dear.. not even your valiant protector can be trusted.. none of them can. All fakes, all lies.. you see how they fall lifeless. What is the difference between one and the other.. all hearts stop the same..' Turning sharply she snarled as some feral beast might, as it's what she'd devolved into now. Hearing the tongue of the unmakers being spoken freely, all these decepctions and lies. It was all noise she wanted to push away. Who cared about saving anyone else, when she started to feel that cold ache in her heart, a wound that never healed, a memory she never lost. 'No one can save you, little dragon.'
Turning further into the layers of the keep, it was a prison as much as it was her sanctuary. It was a cruel and wicked irony now. How long could she last. When would this nightmare end.
Re: That Which is Lost
A roaring fire, it was a soothing sound now. Hunched over like some vampiric overlord in her redstone throne she'd ornately carved as a gift for another served her quite well. The flames licking over the features and causing the shadows to dance, which gave the brooding draconic visage at the top of the throne an even more sinister appearance. The mind of the priestess was a storm of fear and emotion that reduced her to a near catatonic state now.
That was at least until the servant managed a message to her grasp before quickly turning and leaving.
Hand outstretching like a claw, the parchment was unfurled for her view. Her gaze squinting as she beheld the script, the signature of her loyal companion, her keeper, her protector. But she knew the castle well enough, she wouldn't allow her guard to be lowered, even if the Spriggans had stolen his face as well. Hatred burned in her throat as she arose from her place. Her steps echoed across the floor as she made her way to the risen balcony. All had been barred, from here she could behold much of the isle in relative safety. The door creaked with the rust of countless storms, Sarina emerged into the morning light.
Floors below she spotted him easily, the striking red and grey iron armor marking them as a pair even to the casual observer along the road, but now the divide could not be wider. Looking up the brutal veteran of the dark, a former commander in his own right among their warriors had the pained expression of woe. “Why have I been barred from our home, love?” His tone soft yet earnest as he tasked her for some explination.
But Vail was only met with the hawkish expression of the keeper of Sencliff. His words started to fade though as her own mind swam with wrath and terror. To behold the one sworn to protect her twisted to try and make her buckle and bend. His words continued to flow until her patience ran thin, a growl passing her lips as she bared her teeth and clutched her staff. This was one of her warning signs he'd come to learn, since she was by nature slower to strike anyone, but when she did she made it abundantly clear. His words ceased as her mind contemplated calling upon her conquered red Dagganath who laired in one of the burrows in the cliff faces of the isle.
His tone shifted, not pleading nor begging, but his words drifted into the second form, a burning binding language that she had come to know in her own heart as well. Speaking of oaths and his identity to her, yet she would not be budged. Screaming her thoughts down at him, “Liar!” “Fake!” The storm only surging in her own mind, she couldn't contain it any longer.
The wound was done, the man who had been nothing but loyal to her watched as she turned to leave. A frantic cry followed after her as the attendants of the keep shouted, “Governess..! It is your protector, you must see!” She hadn't turned her back for more than a few stray moments. Sarina wanted to ignore them, she wanted to leave the decievers as far away from her as possible. But something pulled at her, something that broke through like a shining light through the dark clouds, something moving in her mind's eye that draw her, made her want to chase it. Her feet turning as she emerged once more into the daylight.
Below was an entirely different scene however as her companion looked up at her with a defeated expression. Drawing out a blade his words couldn't get into her head as she did her best to block them out. Only a few managed to press against her sense and reason. “I don't know how to help you.. I will not leave you..” Taking a dagger he tossed aside his armor and began carving his own flesh, pouring his blood in copious amounts. The priestess flinched, as his show of need continued. He drew out a vial of some fluid, offering it up to her in some twisted toast before draining the contents.
At this everything inside her started to crumble, the walls that she had put up to keep the false faces out started to deteriorate, her mind became light headed as she witnessed him. A girlish voice emerging from her lips. “Heal yourself!” His responses were weak, hardly committing to the task as he began to sag and when his strength could no longer sustain him he collapsed against the stone wall. She screamed at him, “Do as I command, restore yourself.. if you are the true Vail that I know.. you will do as I say! You will destroy the creatures that make me this way!” She believed surely this would be the way to prove who he was, but the man only faintly shook his head as his essence pooled on the ground, watering the earth of Sencliff with his very life.
It was then that she'd come to it, the barrier between fear and the devotion to protect. As stark as the descent to where Vail now lay in a heap, she felt her own strength abandon her as she continued to plead and beg, shaking from the terror that told her not to emerge from the safety of her fortress. Though only moments passed, her mind hung as a small eternity until finally her old self, the roaring dragon emerged crashing through her own reason and all logic that had been beaten into her from the horrors of the dark, and the training that she'd endured. Adrenaline took her veins as her strength surged, in a blind from the tears in her eyes.
I can't lose him, he's all I have left, I pushed the Sage away, Sabine is gone, Kyle is gone, everyone is too far away. I need him, I can't be alone, don't leave me alone!
Bursting forth from the front entrance she cared little in that moment that she left it open as she fled to his side. Dropping her weapon and her shield with reckless motions she ran to take him into her arms. But even this did not seem to help, there was no response, as she checked him closer with her hand to his throat. There was a pulse but it was fading fast, his body becoming colder and more still with each breath.
Looking up the agony took over, she screamed to the Gods, “Crawler take me, don't let him die!” Her hands weaving her most powerful spells to restore him, sending the energy through his form to consume and dissipate the poison, to mend and bind the wounds he'd inflicted. Working herself to exhaustion as she strained her connection to the divine she had so defiantly maintained in spite of all she'd endured.
Still, nothing. Sarina was consumed with pain as her head bowed and she wept. Her fear and her worry that had been forced into her now had cost her.
She felt a pressure on her head, but she couldn't move then. “Shhh-”
A soft, tender tone, it couldn't be real. She was broken, her mind was gone.
But the touch persisted, combing through her hair in a steady fashion. Her eyes slowly opening, Vail's green eyes weakly looking up to her as he faintly smiled.
“You came.” He brushed the tears from her cheeks.
All of the world went still for a moment as she embraced her wounded warrior. The cold of the dark was a far thought now, even if she died, she knew in her heart that she could not live without him. They had no ceremony, they were not cherished members of society, but the bonds that they had could not be immitated or broken.
Her gaze lifted as she continued to work to gently restore his life from that brink of self destruction and despair. And for a moment when her eyes briefly parted from his form, she could have sworn something was at the edge of her vision catching the final rays of the sun. A faint sillouette of a pale draconic figure, watching in silence. But when she looked a second time to try and focus on it, it was nothing. Her mind raced as she soothed Vail.
'Bahamut..?'
That was at least until the servant managed a message to her grasp before quickly turning and leaving.
Hand outstretching like a claw, the parchment was unfurled for her view. Her gaze squinting as she beheld the script, the signature of her loyal companion, her keeper, her protector. But she knew the castle well enough, she wouldn't allow her guard to be lowered, even if the Spriggans had stolen his face as well. Hatred burned in her throat as she arose from her place. Her steps echoed across the floor as she made her way to the risen balcony. All had been barred, from here she could behold much of the isle in relative safety. The door creaked with the rust of countless storms, Sarina emerged into the morning light.
Floors below she spotted him easily, the striking red and grey iron armor marking them as a pair even to the casual observer along the road, but now the divide could not be wider. Looking up the brutal veteran of the dark, a former commander in his own right among their warriors had the pained expression of woe. “Why have I been barred from our home, love?” His tone soft yet earnest as he tasked her for some explination.
But Vail was only met with the hawkish expression of the keeper of Sencliff. His words started to fade though as her own mind swam with wrath and terror. To behold the one sworn to protect her twisted to try and make her buckle and bend. His words continued to flow until her patience ran thin, a growl passing her lips as she bared her teeth and clutched her staff. This was one of her warning signs he'd come to learn, since she was by nature slower to strike anyone, but when she did she made it abundantly clear. His words ceased as her mind contemplated calling upon her conquered red Dagganath who laired in one of the burrows in the cliff faces of the isle.
His tone shifted, not pleading nor begging, but his words drifted into the second form, a burning binding language that she had come to know in her own heart as well. Speaking of oaths and his identity to her, yet she would not be budged. Screaming her thoughts down at him, “Liar!” “Fake!” The storm only surging in her own mind, she couldn't contain it any longer.
The wound was done, the man who had been nothing but loyal to her watched as she turned to leave. A frantic cry followed after her as the attendants of the keep shouted, “Governess..! It is your protector, you must see!” She hadn't turned her back for more than a few stray moments. Sarina wanted to ignore them, she wanted to leave the decievers as far away from her as possible. But something pulled at her, something that broke through like a shining light through the dark clouds, something moving in her mind's eye that draw her, made her want to chase it. Her feet turning as she emerged once more into the daylight.
Below was an entirely different scene however as her companion looked up at her with a defeated expression. Drawing out a blade his words couldn't get into her head as she did her best to block them out. Only a few managed to press against her sense and reason. “I don't know how to help you.. I will not leave you..” Taking a dagger he tossed aside his armor and began carving his own flesh, pouring his blood in copious amounts. The priestess flinched, as his show of need continued. He drew out a vial of some fluid, offering it up to her in some twisted toast before draining the contents.
At this everything inside her started to crumble, the walls that she had put up to keep the false faces out started to deteriorate, her mind became light headed as she witnessed him. A girlish voice emerging from her lips. “Heal yourself!” His responses were weak, hardly committing to the task as he began to sag and when his strength could no longer sustain him he collapsed against the stone wall. She screamed at him, “Do as I command, restore yourself.. if you are the true Vail that I know.. you will do as I say! You will destroy the creatures that make me this way!” She believed surely this would be the way to prove who he was, but the man only faintly shook his head as his essence pooled on the ground, watering the earth of Sencliff with his very life.
It was then that she'd come to it, the barrier between fear and the devotion to protect. As stark as the descent to where Vail now lay in a heap, she felt her own strength abandon her as she continued to plead and beg, shaking from the terror that told her not to emerge from the safety of her fortress. Though only moments passed, her mind hung as a small eternity until finally her old self, the roaring dragon emerged crashing through her own reason and all logic that had been beaten into her from the horrors of the dark, and the training that she'd endured. Adrenaline took her veins as her strength surged, in a blind from the tears in her eyes.
I can't lose him, he's all I have left, I pushed the Sage away, Sabine is gone, Kyle is gone, everyone is too far away. I need him, I can't be alone, don't leave me alone!
Bursting forth from the front entrance she cared little in that moment that she left it open as she fled to his side. Dropping her weapon and her shield with reckless motions she ran to take him into her arms. But even this did not seem to help, there was no response, as she checked him closer with her hand to his throat. There was a pulse but it was fading fast, his body becoming colder and more still with each breath.
Looking up the agony took over, she screamed to the Gods, “Crawler take me, don't let him die!” Her hands weaving her most powerful spells to restore him, sending the energy through his form to consume and dissipate the poison, to mend and bind the wounds he'd inflicted. Working herself to exhaustion as she strained her connection to the divine she had so defiantly maintained in spite of all she'd endured.
Still, nothing. Sarina was consumed with pain as her head bowed and she wept. Her fear and her worry that had been forced into her now had cost her.
She felt a pressure on her head, but she couldn't move then. “Shhh-”
A soft, tender tone, it couldn't be real. She was broken, her mind was gone.
But the touch persisted, combing through her hair in a steady fashion. Her eyes slowly opening, Vail's green eyes weakly looking up to her as he faintly smiled.
“You came.” He brushed the tears from her cheeks.
All of the world went still for a moment as she embraced her wounded warrior. The cold of the dark was a far thought now, even if she died, she knew in her heart that she could not live without him. They had no ceremony, they were not cherished members of society, but the bonds that they had could not be immitated or broken.
Her gaze lifted as she continued to work to gently restore his life from that brink of self destruction and despair. And for a moment when her eyes briefly parted from his form, she could have sworn something was at the edge of her vision catching the final rays of the sun. A faint sillouette of a pale draconic figure, watching in silence. But when she looked a second time to try and focus on it, it was nothing. Her mind raced as she soothed Vail.
'Bahamut..?'
Re: That Which is Lost
Her next steps were soft, she'd agreed to be more careful. They could not let each other get out of sight, they couldn't allow the deceptions to take over. But they also couldn't live in fear, paralyzed, divided, easy to be picked off. The blackguard worked alongside her until the armor and equipment was finished, something unique, something that she would never be caught dead wearing.
Blushing plainly she put the over the knee boots to her legs, revealling far more skin than she was ever used to. But at least it wouldn't resemble the priestess so many had come to know. Changing her face would surely give any would be illusionist difficulty replicating her if she kept this up. It was an odd plan, but she hoped in the least she could move about the people without too much difficulty.
As always the plan was, in the event of danger, he was to be summoned. But his strength had not fully recovered so for now he was to rest while she made her way to the dark city to seek more answers. A slave approached her curiously, but a bit of a tense reaction was enough to keep them at bay. No one could be trusted, too many faces, too many corners. She moved with purpose and production to ensure her goods were stocked in her shop. As the final scrolls were set in place, her mind wandered to the tavern that her Svirfneblin companion had maintained, and even in the wake the Spriggan activity still persisted in keeping.
If the defenders are divided they will surely fall, fear cannot consume you, we must be united.
The prayer of the dragon king gave her calm and focus once more as she began to wander the usual haunts for her companion. She'd driven her away from Sencliff for fear that she might not be the true Saphira, as she'd heard multiple reports of duplicates of her visage moving about and causing strife. Eventually though her path lead her back to the tavern, where not a few cycles before a whole invasion of the shadow moles of Urdlen, agents of the high priest who had been tormenting them had battled within the tavern halls.
She was speaking with a few others, but they turned, eyeing her with suspicion as she turned. A touch of anxiety took her as she wanted to be in a less exposed area. A place she could defend herself from, and without hesitation she withdrew into the back rooms, a secured location that she had a key for. But naturally a stranger moving into a secure space draws attention as Saphira trailed her steps within moments after. It didn't take long for the deep gnome to realize who it was.
“I thought you wanted me gone..” She expressed in that even and unnerving tone as she always did.
Sarina shook her head, drawing down her cowl as she revealled herself, “Only from Sencliff.. I just couldn't be certain, when you couldn't remember things.. I.. panicked.” Confessing as much with only a flinch of shame.
The explination seemed to sate the gnome as they turned and returned to a pair of concerned guests. But lacking hostility the mood quickly returned to calm and ease as they continued to discuss their plans and made some sort of idea to what to do for the day.
After an initial romp through the desert wastes of Sibayad, their drow comrade seemed content with his new orcish slave as he returned to the dark. But Sarina and Saphira still had some energy left in them and a thought crossed her mind. It was a bit random but she offered the idea of heading over to the temple of Malar off in the woods near the ruins of Wharftown. She had been seeking a particular potion from their clergy that was few and far between in rarity. Remaining always in sight of each other they took on the temple with caution but ease, felling the faithful of the God of slaughter and hunts which was an ironic although suitable end to those of their beliefs.
The death throws of the beastial creatures were enough to send the priestess into memories that she still tried to hold back, tingles of a simple primal phobia from being chased and bitten by a wolf pack as a child. With each wave of the werecreatures and other perverse monsterous creations of the beast lord Sarina's survival instincts continued to batter her fears into an efficient tactical mind who's purpose was on making it through, and ensuring no one fell or was left behind.
When they had cleared the levels, Sarina was disappointed to have not uncovered any of the sought potions but she seemed used to coming up empty handed. Saphira moved on to the final cache of what the Malarites kept with their casual arrangment, as she was always better with locks and got the first glance at what was inside the sealed chests. This time though, there was a pause.
“Come look at this armor..” The Svirfneblin insisted.
Sarina gently wandered over thinking it some item perhaps she could enhance or simply sell in her store for further profits. But what she beheld gave her pause for a moment. Taking it up into her arms for inspection it was far too heavy for one like the gnome to bear. Her eyes studied it, elven in make, it was something she was used to, even a bit more easy to move around in than her other armor.
She took a moment to slip it on over the clothes that she was using to disguise her appearance, and as she did she could feel the power that was imbued into the finely crafted metal. Blinking she seemed a little dazed as she turned, her companion now aglow with a haze of white.
The mage seemed amused as she already knew what was happening to her, but the priestess could hardly believe what she was seeing. “Your aura.. I can see something about you that I never could before..” Gasping in some disbelief.
Saphira answered the unspoken question, “It seems we've found a possible solution to your fears.” Putting her gloved hands on her supple hips with a slight smirk of knowing. “With that armor you can now see beyond what the rest of us can. You will be able to tell who is a fake, and who is at least a true person. The duplicates cannot hide this from you.”
The woman's eyes shivered, after nearly watching her beloved partner perish due to her paranoia this made all things clear. A burden was lifted from her that she could not express with a smile, but this was all she had to offer. Turning behind her now she wondered how she'd become so fortunate, and again that power tugged at the edge of her vision. A whisp, a fleeting visage.
You walk with the Gods, this was not something you merely said but you always knew. You have suffered through so much yet you have not abandoned.. Me.
Emerging from the temple was as though she was reborn again, her colors returning to a bright golden and yellowing colors of the bright day sun. She walked once more with pride and strength along the paths of the surface, along roads she thought she might never experience again. Drawing in a deep and grateful breath in thanks to the Gods. She was whole again even if the crisis was not yet over.
Blushing plainly she put the over the knee boots to her legs, revealling far more skin than she was ever used to. But at least it wouldn't resemble the priestess so many had come to know. Changing her face would surely give any would be illusionist difficulty replicating her if she kept this up. It was an odd plan, but she hoped in the least she could move about the people without too much difficulty.
As always the plan was, in the event of danger, he was to be summoned. But his strength had not fully recovered so for now he was to rest while she made her way to the dark city to seek more answers. A slave approached her curiously, but a bit of a tense reaction was enough to keep them at bay. No one could be trusted, too many faces, too many corners. She moved with purpose and production to ensure her goods were stocked in her shop. As the final scrolls were set in place, her mind wandered to the tavern that her Svirfneblin companion had maintained, and even in the wake the Spriggan activity still persisted in keeping.
If the defenders are divided they will surely fall, fear cannot consume you, we must be united.
The prayer of the dragon king gave her calm and focus once more as she began to wander the usual haunts for her companion. She'd driven her away from Sencliff for fear that she might not be the true Saphira, as she'd heard multiple reports of duplicates of her visage moving about and causing strife. Eventually though her path lead her back to the tavern, where not a few cycles before a whole invasion of the shadow moles of Urdlen, agents of the high priest who had been tormenting them had battled within the tavern halls.
She was speaking with a few others, but they turned, eyeing her with suspicion as she turned. A touch of anxiety took her as she wanted to be in a less exposed area. A place she could defend herself from, and without hesitation she withdrew into the back rooms, a secured location that she had a key for. But naturally a stranger moving into a secure space draws attention as Saphira trailed her steps within moments after. It didn't take long for the deep gnome to realize who it was.
“I thought you wanted me gone..” She expressed in that even and unnerving tone as she always did.
Sarina shook her head, drawing down her cowl as she revealled herself, “Only from Sencliff.. I just couldn't be certain, when you couldn't remember things.. I.. panicked.” Confessing as much with only a flinch of shame.
The explination seemed to sate the gnome as they turned and returned to a pair of concerned guests. But lacking hostility the mood quickly returned to calm and ease as they continued to discuss their plans and made some sort of idea to what to do for the day.
After an initial romp through the desert wastes of Sibayad, their drow comrade seemed content with his new orcish slave as he returned to the dark. But Sarina and Saphira still had some energy left in them and a thought crossed her mind. It was a bit random but she offered the idea of heading over to the temple of Malar off in the woods near the ruins of Wharftown. She had been seeking a particular potion from their clergy that was few and far between in rarity. Remaining always in sight of each other they took on the temple with caution but ease, felling the faithful of the God of slaughter and hunts which was an ironic although suitable end to those of their beliefs.
The death throws of the beastial creatures were enough to send the priestess into memories that she still tried to hold back, tingles of a simple primal phobia from being chased and bitten by a wolf pack as a child. With each wave of the werecreatures and other perverse monsterous creations of the beast lord Sarina's survival instincts continued to batter her fears into an efficient tactical mind who's purpose was on making it through, and ensuring no one fell or was left behind.
When they had cleared the levels, Sarina was disappointed to have not uncovered any of the sought potions but she seemed used to coming up empty handed. Saphira moved on to the final cache of what the Malarites kept with their casual arrangment, as she was always better with locks and got the first glance at what was inside the sealed chests. This time though, there was a pause.
“Come look at this armor..” The Svirfneblin insisted.
Sarina gently wandered over thinking it some item perhaps she could enhance or simply sell in her store for further profits. But what she beheld gave her pause for a moment. Taking it up into her arms for inspection it was far too heavy for one like the gnome to bear. Her eyes studied it, elven in make, it was something she was used to, even a bit more easy to move around in than her other armor.
She took a moment to slip it on over the clothes that she was using to disguise her appearance, and as she did she could feel the power that was imbued into the finely crafted metal. Blinking she seemed a little dazed as she turned, her companion now aglow with a haze of white.
The mage seemed amused as she already knew what was happening to her, but the priestess could hardly believe what she was seeing. “Your aura.. I can see something about you that I never could before..” Gasping in some disbelief.
Saphira answered the unspoken question, “It seems we've found a possible solution to your fears.” Putting her gloved hands on her supple hips with a slight smirk of knowing. “With that armor you can now see beyond what the rest of us can. You will be able to tell who is a fake, and who is at least a true person. The duplicates cannot hide this from you.”
The woman's eyes shivered, after nearly watching her beloved partner perish due to her paranoia this made all things clear. A burden was lifted from her that she could not express with a smile, but this was all she had to offer. Turning behind her now she wondered how she'd become so fortunate, and again that power tugged at the edge of her vision. A whisp, a fleeting visage.
You walk with the Gods, this was not something you merely said but you always knew. You have suffered through so much yet you have not abandoned.. Me.
Emerging from the temple was as though she was reborn again, her colors returning to a bright golden and yellowing colors of the bright day sun. She walked once more with pride and strength along the paths of the surface, along roads she thought she might never experience again. Drawing in a deep and grateful breath in thanks to the Gods. She was whole again even if the crisis was not yet over.