Turn 1.5
Crimson Kiar
The holy man had dreamed of the woman ever since they had met during the Prince's coronation. He remembered the first time fondly; given the task of blessing the symbols of power in the name of The Greatest and the Lady of the Woods. It had been a troubled beginning; piety-driven hatred forced into cooperation. He did not mean to fall for the Northerner but in every way she had lured him in; the eyes, the way she spoke, the scent she carried...it made him hunger for a chance. He had spent the following days beating at the woman's religious arguments, scattering flirtations between his curse. Of course, it all stopped when the coronation finally occurred and he no longer had a reasonable excuse to speak with the Sister. He would have to keep his stirrings to himself for his sake and that of God.
One night, a dream came to the priest. Sultry words and exotic incense filled his dreams; the blue-eyed sister dressed in naught pulling him forward to her hut. A night of pleasure and ecstasy beyond belief...
When the priest awoke the following morning drenched in sweat, he made up his mind. The pleasures of the flesh would come only once; he would commit his sin and deal with the consequences later.
And so to start his courting begun; gifts and letters were sent to the Sister. To the Elysian Grove he sent discrete messengers. Ostensibly to ensure that the Sisters were keeping to the law but of course the true purpose was to sneak in a few tokens of the priest's affections. For all his attempts however, he received no word back. Heart shattered, he thrust forward.
LienruasThe man at first questions what he heard. And a second time. And a third time. After making sure that no one else heard the voice, he rushed to an alley- ensuring no one was in earshot- and spoke in a flurry of questions and curses. You make out the gist to be:
"
A god?! It is because of you that my son is dead; his blood for your feast. You're servant did it for you and now you ask me to strike her down for you? God or demon, you are mad!"
From what you can tell from the man's mind, he would be all to willing to kill this woman if you would just give him a weapon; he just wants an answer to his question first.
Ven Half-FormedUpon hearing your voice, the woman quickly bows towards her altar, still adorned with the remains of her victims. In a trembling voice, filled with mixed fear, surprise and awe, she answers. "
To give you life my lord. Nothing more. I do all this for you an-"
Feeling another presence, the woman cowers in fear; she had clearly not expected this. She felt knives stabbing her skull, each departing whispers of ambition and power. They spoke of a throne, an order by which her rule would be supreme and without question. A world wherein hers was the final arbiter. The voices spoke further, of the flames and fire; to burn away those who opposed. She looked mortified.
"
No...no, no, no...M-my lords, I am nothing but a Sister of your Blessed Lady; I am but your humble servant. I do not lead b-but only follow. Please, do not give me the command of your righhtful dominions."
TiaraThe priest found his gifts to have little effect on the Sister's affections. He should have expected as much. The woman had been young; new to her heathen sisterhood. She had not been enflamed with the priest's own passion. How could she? He was a man of moderate rank and worse, an enemy of her faith. No, he would need to do something about that...
And so, the man worked up the ranks. Increasing his contributions to the various ceremonies, as well as currying favour with the higher-ups, he did as was needed to move forward. Though he now had the motivation, it would be difficult to do anything at all to affect his current standing. He was a parish priest of one of the richer districts; a cushy job given by an uncle higher up in the hierarchy. He was not expected to rise up; indeed, he had only been given his current role out of familial duty. To ask more from his uncle, the chaplain of the priest himself, would be difficult. He had already been given the honour of blessing the Symbols of Rule...then again, the priest thought, why would his uncle give him such a chance? Of course his uncle was aiding him. Why else? It was a hint; he would sit dumbly and wait. No, he would take his chance and rise with all that he could use...He would visit his uncle in the morning, he thought.
Seyk The youth looks about confused; he had been drinking lately. Perhaps he had taken too much. Ensuring that the drink's madness had not taken effect, he replied to the disembodied voice, asking him if it were a demon; he had always been told never to consort with demons. Murderer or thief, to speak with the demons was not only sacrilege but would unleash horrible consequences on the individual.
Crimson Kiar, Queen of Sensation (GilgameshDespair)
Essence: 4
Piety: N/A
Worshipers: 0
Influence: N/A
Lienruas (SilverDragon)
Essence: 5
Piety: N/A
Worshipers: 0
Influence: N/A
Ven Half-Formed (Harbingerjm)
Essence: 5
Piety: N/A
Worshipers: 0
Influence: N/A
Tiara (IronyOwl)
Essence: 3
Piety: N/A
Worshipers: 0
Influence: N/A
Seyk (Ama)
Essence: 5
Piety: N/A
Worshipers: 0
Influence: N/A
Greed: A woman dressed in gold watches her neighbour. She sees his ships ready to set sail and his children taught by the most learned men of the city. She could never reach that splendour; all she had were inheritances and allowances from her distant father. She desired more but lacked the initiative to seize it...
Vengeance: A beggar stares at the sketch of a young child; the only memory of a relative long dead. He knows who did it; the Sisters of the Elysian Grove. Sacrifices to the dead gods. Who else?
Ambition: A young man hoping to rise to the top of his gang. He had only started; it would take time. He was from the slums and had a family of six to feed. His sister had been sold to survive last winter; he needed more wealth and power. How?
Love: He sought the face of the heathen woman; her eyes of blue and reddish skin. He desired her in his dreams and in his waking hours. But his was the role of priest; he had given his life to He Who Comes. No vice was to be taken in preparation for the Arrival.
Hope: The lone sister dressed in white. Tomes beside her with bloodied knife in hand. She knew what she did was wrong but what choice did she have?
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Topic: New God Saga: Turn 2 (Game Thread) (Read 2836 times)