Thread: A Radiant Slither and the False God. (Clearsight, SomethingEsoteric)

A sea of pale flesh, feted fingernails and teeth black as the bile that spewed from their every orifice and the veins that pulsated beneath, beady eyes alight with the most pitched of machinations and such ferocious tenacity one would surely believe them feral if not for the calculated and cruel competence in which they weaved through the fray. Ur-priests, while Hilde knew not first hand of them shed been given warning by Cruvan such vile beings should be handled and met with only the most careful and respected of discretion. May have she been aware the moment they began pouring in like a swarm of flies from the belfries, up from between the pews, smashing through the windows screaming bloody murder in guttural and chortled wretches she could have been capable of such response shed not been aware though, no, Hildes awareness was dedicated to two relics of equal and opposite regard, one a Shard of the Sun, the other a bible bound gnarled blood soaked hide, written upon pages of dehydrated and cured flesh in ichor of unknown origin. It was strange, like every word a twisted antonym to the tracts and tomes she carried upon her own person, to the tracts and tomes shed read, wrote and printed over and over in her time as a young scribe. Each word called out to her and whispered like a sinister slither through her mind and spirit, while each was written in a calligraphy that could be understood the letters seemed somehow as twisted as the very messages they conceived like the madness of the author imbued each her head was growing heavy and her vision similar, the disseminating text was just drawing her in closer, each horribly flaying word till a little tap at the jar she was enclosed by tried to interrupt her Hey Hilde... she looked up, if only for a second with vacant stare and quirked lips, hushing the petulant elf before flashing forward a few pages to yet another disturbing sight, a visage of Pelor, as vacant and void as her own eyes, the sun a radiant slither in the sky, and the world did bleed black. what in the seven hells is this Hilde muttered in a detached voice, her breathing picking up though the world outside was still as drawn out and unfamiliar as the world in ichor before her, I know it means nothing to you buh- How about we save the crazy bullshit for after people are done trying to kill us! Suddenly Hilde snapped back to this reality and looked up in shock, just in time to see blood already putrid and toxic spurting from a neck wound in the elves companion, lurid and cadaverous fingers dug deep to the knuckle as colour drained from the poor womans face, both their faces, Hildes and Avices as she doubled over to the floor choking on her own putrefying blood. Pelor help us the paladin whispered before slamming the book closed the sound drawing the eyes of every filthy Cretan in the room, the radiance of the Shard of the Sun just as soon turning them as Hilde charged, the text tucked between her arm and her shield in a binding, the shard down her shirt radiating through the chain coif that clattered with every step, every clash of steel and wretched hack that followed, drowned out the sickliest slops of rotting flesh and the crash of sailing bodies splintering pews, splintering bones, tearing viscera and cleaved muscle, the crackling energies of variegated light that sheathed her blade and radiated along the breadth of her shields face. They barely made it out of there with their lives Avice had not been so fortunate but for now the shard was safe and that was their honour bound enterprise. While theyd done it, all save return the shard there was no cause for celebrations yet and even just the way she lived her life was hard sitting atop a burlap bedroll next to a smouldering fire, the Elf not far off. My good blade carves the casques of men my tough lance thrusteth sure she whispered with a hand held close to her chest. My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure. a crack in her voice, the poem went on, hushed as she could convey it line after line a certain longing in her heart at the end of the first verse and into the second How sweet are looks that ladies bend, on whom their favors fall further still I never felt the kiss of love , she paused upon the line and caught a sob before it could come to life the rest of the poem upon which she based her life past, present and in time future upon recited quietly inside the confines of her mind till the very last Until I find the holy Grail The following morning packs and supplies were set away in silence much like the journey that brought them to this clearing, a short prayer was said for Avice and one shorter still for safe passage through the day as Hilde reached into her chain coif, the hood hanging listlessly down her back and rippling over the breadth of her shield. From within her breast, the felt tabard of soothing blue upon it, she withdrew a small roll of parchment with a wax seal and a brass face dangling a tract of her accomplishments and her Dietys also in hopes one as crestfallen as the village theyd left behind may find it in time of need and from its words they would draw hope, faith, solace. I she broke the silence after a long wordless trek, they were nearing the city where the need has been created and Hilde could not stand it any longer. Shed been staring upon the woman for a long while from a few steps behind a certain unfamiliar longing in her chest becoming more than just graining now. I cant help but feel Hilde continued in a somber voice, That Avices sacrifice She groaned, I feel somewhat responsible, and for that I am deeply sorry it appeared to me you two were she swallowed hard and held the collar of her coif that still glowed from the radiance of the shard, were ahm arranged. The temple in Freelton needs this shard, for it, however a lost life seems so it doesnt seem fair. She confessed in her guilt.