Zion: Light of the New Moon, Ch 2.2 Myrh
Zion - Light of the New Moon Chapter 2.2
Myrh Thanks For the Memories
The wagons will be making camp in the center of the ruins. Let's tune in and see how this turns out.
Despite numerous objections, Priestess Fanewatcher directed the wagons straight into the center of the ruins. What was once quite possibly a beautiful lane or a scenic boulevard was now nothing more than a gutted swath of land. Crumpled, half-hidden foundations with a few shaky, barely standing walls identified were buildings once stood and a few errant pieces of timbers outlined what may have been a stable yard... or maybe a large wooden storehouse of some kind.
Our camp filled a large plaza that was more than likely a market back when the living inhabited the city... before the war. Lady Fanewatcher had the wagons create a U shape, opening toward what looked like it may have once been a guard tower of some kind two blocks away; when we looked at it in the fading evening light it seemed almost impossible that the dilapidated, shattered structure was still standing... one of the few in the entirety of the ruins.
"Guards at regular intervals." Yearl announced, "There's no telling what might be living in the ruins."
"Or unliving." the priestess whispered to herself... I remember wishing at the time that I wasn't close enough to hear it.
While everyone was spending their time establishing camp, I kept finding myself glancing back to Priestess Fanewatcher. She was seated on the edge of a broken fountain at the center of camp, gazing toward the setting sun, whispering to herself, a prayer, most likely. The Divine Shield sat in her lap, the tip of the blade resting in a downward angle against the broken cobblestone of the plaza's ruined street. I remember feeling a sense of overwhelming dread as the scythe's blade began to glow, illuminating the space around it with an otherworldly faerie fire.
Priest Farstrider was the first to raise an alarm, his own Divine Shield glowing brightly from its place on his person, "Undead!" he cried. The shout was picked up quickly and the whole of the caravan was whipped into a frenzy of activity before Priestess Fanewatcher could quiet everyone.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" the jackal bellowed, and a faint haze of dark mist flowed out from around her, accentuating her anger at the noise, "These ruins are a shrine to the warriors who lost their lives, and I will not have the sanctity of this place fouled by the brainless whimpering of scared men and women."
"Priestess..." Ryan approached her, "The people have a right to worry... there are--"
"Undead." the priestess finished for him, "Yes... I know."
"Then you can understand why the people--"
"No..." she answered, starings traight at him, "I cannot understand why."
"There are undead!" the wolf repeated, not that it required repeating.
"I heard the first time." she acknowledged, "Go calm them... that's what you do well, is it not? Let me be concerned about the undead that haven't yet shown themselves, and, for all we know, may not do so at all." With that, she got to her feet, and walked off into the ruins, alone.
Closer to me, Beo was following after Jerard again, "Do you really think there are undead here?"
"This is the site where a huge battle took place... I'd be more surprised if there weren't." he answered in a casual tone.
"Wow..." the black husky paused, "You don't seem very worried."
Jerard shrugged in response, "I've dealt with worse things than a few Corpses or Ghouls."
"But there might be worse out there... like Spectres... or Wraiths..." the husky suggested. Despite his continued intent on talking, he didn't seem particularly worried either.
Jerard shrugged again, "We have two supremely powerful magis... any intelligent undead will stay clear." he smirked. Based on the way his tail started wagging in complete circles, Beo did not miss the compliment.
"So... should we come up with a plan then?" the husky asked, "You know... just in case?" he followed after Jerard, "If you want, we can share a tent tonight--" he paused when the human glanced back at him, "So we won't have to find each other on the field of battle." he added quickly.
"You're not very subtle, are you?" the human asked; despite my ability to read people I couldn't quite consider what to make of the comment.
"I'm an Elementalist and a Summoner... 'subtle' isn't one of my strong points." Beo countered, tail wagging, "Not a bad thing, or so I've heard."
"Sometimes yes, sometimes no." Jerard responded with that very same unreadable visage, "My last lover was anything but subtle."
At the word 'lover', Beo's ears went straight up and his tail puffed out, "Your... last l-lover?" I could see the gears working in his mind as if his skull were pure crystal, "So... was... sh-he a magus as well?" I didn't miss the subtle trip the husky made on the pronoun either. The two rounded a corner as they headed off toward a clump of tents across camp from me, which was just as well since my attention was drawn to Artemisia, who was slowly slinking away from camp.
The Demon of Ashlai... it still seemed strange to think of her as a force of destruction. Even after having seen her in battle with the Biteleaf and hearing about her exploits with the flying dragon-like creatures seeing the embodiment of the stories told to children to get them to behave seemed... otherworldly. I followed after her, darting from ruined wall to broken-down chimney to collapsed building, watching as her movements became even more erratic and more urgent. She was mumbling to herself.
"No." it was the first word I could make out, and she said it as she came to a stop, "NO... no... no no no..." she repeated, "Stop following me!" she roared. At first I thought she meant me, but it became quickly apparent that she probably had no idea what was going on around her... she was talking to something in her own mind. "I said stop!" she bellowed, spinning around to claw at something that was obviously not there.
Artemisia exploded into action, attacking with a both claws first before crouching low to the ground, sweeping her tail out in front of her as she kicked upward with her foot leading the way. Before she came down her long polearm was drawn and she was backing up against a mostly collapsed wall. She held the weapon out before her in a defensive posture, "You've received more warnings than most." she hissed, her gaze moving back and forth between what looked like four invisible assailants.
The dragoness let out a grunt as she appeared to strain against herself, her weapon slowly, shakily forcing its way back toward her body, rising up under her chin to press against her throat. She started wheezing as the weapon cut off her airflow, and she suddenly lashed out with a foot, kicking. She twisted the weapon's bladed tip from the left to the right at neck height with a powerful strike, and the weapon suddenly stopped, the end of the polearm's shaft caught right beneath the blade by a golden furred paw.
Artemesia seemed to suddenly snap out of whatever trance she was in upon seeing Captain Rakken staring at her. She dropped out of her battle stance and lowered her weapon, "I... was..."
"Lost in yourself." the lion finished for her. The dragoness just nodded, "A priest of Doen once told me that those who practice blood magic sometimes absorb more than just the life force of those they kill with it..." he leaned back against a section of cracked wall, "I wonder... is your 'gift' anything like that?"
Artemesia raised a talon to her head and rubbed the side of it, unclasping the plate of armor held in position there, "What do you mean?" even from my distance I could tell she was trying to evade the question, which was a worthless gesture when someone like Yearl Rakken asking it.
"Final moments... thoughts... memories." he answered, taking a step closer, "Ones so vivid that they might cause you to relive moments from your past as all of the fractured psychies in your mind are reminded of them by a specific place?"
"I can control it." Artemisia gave up trying to evade the question.
"I hope so." the lion nodded slowly, "because you're needed back at camp... Priestess Fanewatcher has an announcement." The two headed quickly back towards the town center. After giving a healthy amount of space between them and myself, I followed; despite Priestess Fanewatcher's reassurance that there wasn't an undead problem I really wasn't interested in testing the theory.
Kell was waiting for me when I slipped back into the circle of wagons, "See anything interesting during your... patrol?"
"I found the Demon of Ashlai." I answered.
"Funny." he stated flatly. I found it more humorous how people often overlook the truth when they mistake something for a joke, "You missed the Priestess' speech." he announced.
"Was it anything special?" I asked, glancing to the jackal, who was offering prayers with a collection of supplicants surrounding her at the base of the fountain.
"She said the place was going to be crawling with undead once the moon rose." Kell answered in a too-casual tone.
"Well..." I shuddered, "So much for her saying it was safe."
"I think she meant at the moment it was... that's why she has us facing the tower." he motioned to the crumpled pile of roughly-vertical rubble.
"What does that have to do with the undead?" I couldn't help but ask.
"No idea." he shrugged, then motioned to the horizon where the moon was just starting to make itself seen, "But I think we're about to find out."
As the Priestess' prayer session came to a close she ushered everyone away from her. I smiled when I saw a large number of them flock over to Priest Farstrider, who was still conducting his services. The jackal made her way around camp and began gathering up several select individuals. "You two... come with me." she announced once she approached us.
I suddenly wished that I was still alone in the ruins away from camp. Once everyone was gathered up, the priestess turned to face us; Beo and Jerard were there, as was Captain Rakken and Artemisia-- everyone was staring at the jackal, which was a good thing since I didn't want to have any attention focused my way.
"In a matter of minutes the streets will be flooded with undead." she announced.
"Which again leaves me wondering why we're here." Captain Rakken announced, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That, dear captain, is PRECISELY why we're here." the jackal stated.
"To stand in the middle of an undead swarm?" Jerard asked flatly, "I thought we were going to Zion."
"This is a pilgrimage... and, in the spirit of such a holy journey, I have chosen to visit a holy site I knew was in need of cleansing." her voice raised significantly as she answered the question. "This city was a battlefield upon which numerous faithful gave their lives... and any presence of undead here is an affront to the Moon Goddess and a blight upon her world." her teeth were bared and her words were almost a snarl-- it was the most animated I'd ever seen her, and it made her even more frightening.
"When the moon fully rises, our foes will come from the tower." she motioned over her shoulder with the scythe.
"Why the tower?" Beo asked.
"It is the focus of the fel energy that animates our foes." explained the priestess.
"You mean to lay the undead to rest?" Priest Farstrider inquired, joining the group, apparently having finished with his sermons.
"I plan to destroy them completely." the jackal countered, and she began searching through the small crowd with her eyes. Once they fell upon Artemisia, the priestess smiled... widely. It was not a comforting expression.
"The guards will be needed to defend the caravan from the undead..." Captain Rakken noted, "How are we going to have enough manpower for this?"
"It is not a hard task, Captain." the priestess stated, "The guards will protect the caravan, and those of us assembled here will go to the tower."
"I'm not sure I like the sound of this." Beo mumbled.
"Once we enter the tower, I can lay the fel energies to rest so long as the focus spirit of this infestation is defeated."
"A focus spirit?" asked Jerard, "What is a focus spirit?"
Priestess Fanewatcher turned around, motioning to the tower. All at once, as the moon broke free from the horizon, huge pillars of green energy lanced skyward, filling out the empty spot between bricks as they rose once more into the air. The glowing eldritch light seemed to solidify like mortar between the crumbling bricks, holding the structure erect, glossing over the crumbling, cracked blocks of stone and leaving them looking like new. The tower was standing once again.
"That is the focus spirit." she finally spoke. A shining bear-shaped beacon of balefire hue stood upon the top of the newly reconstructed tower, a translucent, shining banner held in a paw, war hammer pointed outward towad the city in his other. "He was a champion of Bannihar during the war."
"We're fighting the souls and corpses of the Banniharian army?" I heard Kell whisper to himself beside me.
"Maybe we could... you know... just move the caravan?" Beo offered, but it fell upon deaf ears.
"Bring me to the tower..." Priestess Fanewatcher commanded, "We will face the defiling presence within, and lay to rest the soul of Marcus Maritimus... only then can this haunting be ended."
"I don't like this." Artemisia stated, almost too softly to be heard. It was the first time I think I heard anything reminiscent of fear in her voice.
"For the glory of Tah'aveen!" Priestess Fanewatcher shouted. To be honest, at that time the Goddess' glory wasn't really the main thing on my mind.
* * * * * *
The Myrhian caravan may soon find itself in combat once again!
At this point, contributing readers will have to decide on how best to handle the situation:
1) Assault the haunted tower and 'purify' it manually by slaying the undead captain and then let Anya cleanse it. 2) Assault the haunted tower and let Anya cleanse it, but to heck with the undead captain! 3) Fight the undead and push them back to the tower then find a way to seal it... no sense going inside the haunted thing! 4) There's no sane way to stick around-- get the heck out of Ashlai and to hell with the undead!
Champions of Myrh, since you are now about to engage in combat I will require a Stance from each of you. Stance is given on a rating of 0-5 where 5 is full offense, 4 is aggressive, 3 is neutral, 2 is conservative, and 1 is reserved, A rating of 0 indicates that the character will NOT be taking part in combat (not even in a support role). Please bear in mind that these ratings will increase your Offense the higher your Stance number and increase your Defense the lower your Stance number (or, in the case of 0, have the character try to avoid combat altogether)-- the opposite sub-trait decreases conversely (Defense goes down if the number is high; Offense goes down if the number is low).
I will also require a Utilization number for those characters that have an 11 or higher in combined Magic + Sub-Trait or Faith + Sub-Trait. Like Stance, Utilization ranges from 0-5. Utilization is a numerical equivalent of how free your contributed character is with their magic and/or prayers-- a charater with a higher Utilization is more inclined to use their abilities often and more powerfully while a character that elects a lower Utilization is less likely to depend on them (Utilization of 0 will result in the character foregoing any such abilities). Bear in mind that the higher the level of Utilization the more likely a character is to suffer from fatigue. Characters with higher Attribute + Sub-Skill totals are able less likely to be affected by fatigue unless they use a higher score of Utilization.
For an example of how to declare Stance and Utilization, please view the actions taken by the Author-Contributed characters below.
Contributing Readers, make sure you make your stance and utilization selections before midnight (pst) on Friday, July 1st.