"Suffice it to say, I have lived a sheltered life. While I, of course, am familiar with the basics, I was hoping to hear your unique insight on the matter as a religious specialist." You lie through your teeth, still smiling.
John looks suspicious, but [15] nods. "That's fair, I apologize for jumping to conclusions, I'm somewhat new to the borderlands."
"Could you start from the beginning? I've only really heard parts and pieces, never the full story."
Long ago, the land was barren and cold. Until the Seed found it. It ripped off its wings, cut out its stomach, and fell to the earth. It [died, long-sleep, rest], but the world awakened. It grew forth great bounty. Soon, too soon, humanity awoke, and the Sleeping Seed spoke. It taught us many things, turning us from beasts into a civilization. It showed us how to work the land for food, how to work steel and gear, how to build and craft, and play music. It showed us many works of art it had dreamed of. Worlds that it crafted to test us.
Many, many things of wonder. We built a city upon its tomb and spread out across the land. But the further from its grace, the worse the earth is, so we must study what the Seed allows us to carry out his eternal work.The globe is encircled with many words; "...steel, electronics, holy weapons..." It lists a great many of these things, but the gist is skills or complicated processes.
He pauses, catching your gaze on the globe. He smiles widely, explaining, "Ah yes, The Language of His Holy Scholars. I was taught to read it as an apprentice. It is a truly difficult scrip to master."
It's archaic, but you understand it better than the language upon the books at Doc Mitchell's house. It doesn't cause your eyes to strain that hard, or make your head feel like its humming. Going with the flow, you take the obvious bait, "What does it mean?"
"That is a shortened list of many things the Seed has taught us. We carry his concepts with us on our missionary work, so that all may realize what he has done for us."
Then there were the demons. The fell from the sky, cruel men and women who ripped apart the earth. At first, they pillaged and raided. Then they began to grow more and more wicked. They raised the dead, corrupting the lands and themselves in the proccess. They destroyed much of the area to the west of the holy city, reaching the gates. But the Seed made his anger manifest, and this sacred avatar slaughtered the King of the Dead, a great serpent beast with twisting tentacles and wicked claws.
The battles lasted hundreds of years, sieges lasting literal generations.You're close to crying by the end of it. Fleeting emotions that don't feel like they're genuinely yours. A mixed bag of anger, sadness, and regret. A cold burn of genuine hatred grows, lighting a fire in your belly. [0 vs. 20]
"And they were put to the fire. Scourged from existence with a burning hatred that wiped away every trace of corruption. Not even dust remained to interrupt the Great Work." You speak without thinking, finishing the priest's sentence.
"Your translation is off, but you have a good grasp of the scholar's tongue. Was it one of your parents? Odd they didn't teach you more." But he beams at you with genuine happiness. Only noticing the night falling on the town when the rain begins to patter on the glass of the high windows, "Do you have a place to stay, Pheobe? I can't deny the children of my siblings a place to rest for the night. I can make you up a cot near the fireplace with some of the apprentices."
You don't remember who you are.
You are hungry.
Your side hurts. Blood stains your bandages.
Over Body:
A charred black, brown, armored duster. Torso:
An oversized, grey shirt. (hidden)
Lower Body:
Faded blue scratchy, canvas pants.(hidden)
Feet:
Woolen socks(hidden)
Feet:
A pair of leather boots.
Side: A wrapping of bloody bandages.(hidden)
In Belt: A burned knife.
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 259865 times)