Red fog swirls at Nella's feet, the mist bathing the stoney road beneath her in an eerie light. Archdeacon Maljer shouts about sowing the seeds of Evil and watering them with blood somewhere in the distance. She stands underneath the gigantic black steel portcullis jutting out of a mountainside that makes up the gates of Mhaldor, separating the city from the rest of the blighted island. "Ready?" the Lord Marshal asks his troops. Upon confirmation, he touches an earring, transporting him and his group to a matching earring upon one of Mhaldor's infiltrator's ears.
The floor beneath Nella's feet changes from stone to the bark of the bough of a large tree, and an almost palpable energy floods the troops now in enemy territory in the village of Eleusis. The Lord Marshal points at a man in cruelly spiked black armor and commands, "Gravehands!" The armored man makes a quick motion with his arms, summoning rotting hands to rip forth from the ground, half-rotted flesh barely clinging to the skeletal arms.
Feral shouting and animal cries herald the arrival of the savage Eleusians, primitive heathens who worship Lady Gaia and Nature. Druids clad in loincloths called upon the animal spirits around Nella, Sentinels wielding tridents closed in on the army, combatants filling the space with the clashing sound of battle. One badly injured woman attempts to flee the onslaught of a Mhaldorian warrior, but a rotting wrist twists to grab her ankles, halting her for enough time to be struck down by the him.
The air around Nella's fist coalesces into an ethereal mace that she grips tightly. Wheeling her arm up and over, she smacks her foe over the head, sending him reeling to the ground. Nella laughs, the white - now red - fur-like setae around her neck ruffling with the expulsion of air. She steps over the corpse with a spindly leg and turns to the rest of her city's soldiers. "O Lord! Your Truths lend us the Strength to eliminate Heathens," she prays loudly, her antennae pressed flat against the top and back of her head. "Let us sever ourselves from our conscience by imposing Cruelty on the weak!"
Shouts of "Amen!" ring out among the soldiers at the end of the prayer, and Nella's head rises. "Amen," she says quietly. As her eyes flutter open, they gaze towards the sky in reverence. Behind her a monstrous vine swings at her midsection, clobbering her ribs. Nella falls, her hip hitting the ground first, then her head with a thunk, thunk. As her vision goes black, she thinks she sees the face of her Lord. "Spread My word. Enact My will."
Blurrily, Nella's vision returns. Shades of green and brown morphing into shapes of buildings in trees, not so far off from the boughs of Eleusis where she had been fighting previously. Her bony fingers reach up to her eyes, rubbing them clear as she tries to sit up. She grunts with pain as the motion aggravates the injury in her side. Sitting up takes another try, but she makes it with effort.
In an attempt to regain her bearings, she shuffles to a nearby street corner. She does not recognize any landmarks, so she mentally rules out Eleusis. She has no memory of any place like this, and she'd traveled most places in the world she knows. Nella frowns, her antennae drooping to the sides of her head. She suddenly feels extremely vulnerable in an entirely new place, divorced from what she takes for reality.
Panic drops her heart into her stomach, and she lashes her arms out in frustration. The bells on her bracelet tinkle from the agitation, bringing Nella's attention to the beads and bells. A wave of calm washes over her as she quickly meditates on the Seven Truths, counting one bead for each Truth. With her mind clear, she remembers her Lord's words and looks for the nearest person to proselytize to, or at the very least, ask about a place to rest her injured self.
The floor beneath Nella's feet changes from stone to the bark of the bough of a large tree, and an almost palpable energy floods the troops now in enemy territory in the village of Eleusis. The Lord Marshal points at a man in cruelly spiked black armor and commands, "Gravehands!" The armored man makes a quick motion with his arms, summoning rotting hands to rip forth from the ground, half-rotted flesh barely clinging to the skeletal arms.
Feral shouting and animal cries herald the arrival of the savage Eleusians, primitive heathens who worship Lady Gaia and Nature. Druids clad in loincloths called upon the animal spirits around Nella, Sentinels wielding tridents closed in on the army, combatants filling the space with the clashing sound of battle. One badly injured woman attempts to flee the onslaught of a Mhaldorian warrior, but a rotting wrist twists to grab her ankles, halting her for enough time to be struck down by the him.
The air around Nella's fist coalesces into an ethereal mace that she grips tightly. Wheeling her arm up and over, she smacks her foe over the head, sending him reeling to the ground. Nella laughs, the white - now red - fur-like setae around her neck ruffling with the expulsion of air. She steps over the corpse with a spindly leg and turns to the rest of her city's soldiers. "O Lord! Your Truths lend us the Strength to eliminate Heathens," she prays loudly, her antennae pressed flat against the top and back of her head. "Let us sever ourselves from our conscience by imposing Cruelty on the weak!"
Shouts of "Amen!" ring out among the soldiers at the end of the prayer, and Nella's head rises. "Amen," she says quietly. As her eyes flutter open, they gaze towards the sky in reverence. Behind her a monstrous vine swings at her midsection, clobbering her ribs. Nella falls, her hip hitting the ground first, then her head with a thunk, thunk. As her vision goes black, she thinks she sees the face of her Lord. "Spread My word. Enact My will."
Blurrily, Nella's vision returns. Shades of green and brown morphing into shapes of buildings in trees, not so far off from the boughs of Eleusis where she had been fighting previously. Her bony fingers reach up to her eyes, rubbing them clear as she tries to sit up. She grunts with pain as the motion aggravates the injury in her side. Sitting up takes another try, but she makes it with effort.
In an attempt to regain her bearings, she shuffles to a nearby street corner. She does not recognize any landmarks, so she mentally rules out Eleusis. She has no memory of any place like this, and she'd traveled most places in the world she knows. Nella frowns, her antennae drooping to the sides of her head. She suddenly feels extremely vulnerable in an entirely new place, divorced from what she takes for reality.
Panic drops her heart into her stomach, and she lashes her arms out in frustration. The bells on her bracelet tinkle from the agitation, bringing Nella's attention to the beads and bells. A wave of calm washes over her as she quickly meditates on the Seven Truths, counting one bead for each Truth. With her mind clear, she remembers her Lord's words and looks for the nearest person to proselytize to, or at the very least, ask about a place to rest her injured self.