Bacon is fluffy
Wut'n th'name of davy jonez lockr is uh sall-add?
The Fall
The dagger met the boy's flesh, slicing into boy's heart despite the its owner's protests. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his arm...no his upper body flew backwards, sending him falling down the steps leading up to the altar. The father was stunned, wracking his quaking frame toward his boy. Still even in this moment of despair, he held onto his staff. Was it a sense of duty or the force of habit which kept his fist firm around the stock of the mage's weapon? Whichever the case may be it cracked the marble floor as he catapulted himself up the steps, just before his boy. His hand met blood, but he held back the screams this time. His stained palms pressed firmly against the fading warmth of his boy whose gaze was that of concern.
" No my boy, No. No. No. No. No". The father turned at the sound of weeping, to find his followers whom he had long since abandoned internally, were standing before him. Their broken bodies and hemorrhaging frames quaked in what appeared to be solemn solidarity. Father Carlos rectified his posture and stood tall and proud before his people, with a regretful expression written upon his countenance. " I failed. My children, you musn't place such concerns for me. Tend to your own", he said with a quivering lip. A woman stepped forth and kneeled upon one knee, with aching arms that slowly ascended up and outward. "Ye stood with'us, now we stand with you...now n' forever".
An explosive roar shot from behind them, a sound all too familiar to those versed in combat. His remaining knights nodded their heads and lined up before the crumbling door frame as it lit up with an array of lines which was too much for a mere human to comprehend, but maddening in its deliberate methodology. It creaked and rattled on crumbling stone walls and creaking hinges. Still his followers did not budge. The door's luminescence began to fade as the father stood in silence,grasping his chest before moving to hand out one last sacrament to his people.
The father did not hesitate to approach them. They shook their heads in unison and for the first time, commanded him to step back with a gesture of their hands. Those who could line up hobbled over toward the center aisle, amidst the fallen. Father Carlos was forced to watch as many that tried did not make it, failing their cause but unwilling to break tradition even under these circumstances. Those who made it meekly chomped upon their sacrament, which was nothing more than a symbolic gesture, though many could not muster the strength to sip the wine. These people did not make it back to their seats, most collapsing upon one another as their muscles contracted. The front door nearly flew off as it held off the mob on the other side of the door.
A voice echoed within his mind, but Father Carlos didn't have the strength to retort the being. Even still, he refused to give into the night. Blood formed at his mouth and dripped onto his chest as the doors miraculously held once more. "Father! Father Carlos Please stop fighting and go! You must live on"!
However, his cries would fall on deaf ears as doors flung open, to reveal an angry mob of his own followers who surged forth like a destructive storm surge. His knights locked in combat and pinned to the ground, called out in vain as the Father solemnly stood before his people. A lone knight stepped forth, whose every step made the church itself quake with fear. " What say you, oh betrayer of the light"? A voice erupted behind him and a boom to match its fury which sent dozens of people flying back. " Don't you dare sully the goo--d na--me"...
" Good? What GOOD BE THERE LION'S BANE? OUR PEOPLE LIE BEFORE HIM AS HE SMIRKS”! He took a deep breath and drew his blade, symbolically pointing toward the father. “ What say you”?
---
The sun does not shine on the peninsula of St. Coraline. Rumors of the an unseen death fly through taverns and cavern gossip. The ocean roars with a vengeance, sinking ships approaching Port Landcaster, the biggest port on the western seaboard. Tales of the unknown creatures that lurk beneath those waves spread like wildfire. They are enough to drive even the most hardened sailor to madness. Word has not gone out from the peninsula in days. The People of the steppes say the land is a gateway to hell. Those of the north believe it's the pious peoples of the peninsula angered the gods. And those to the south are rallying an army to investigate the cause of the disappearances of their people: ambassadors and merchants alike.
Unlike their brothers to north, they are the most secularized of the three kingdoms.The size of their army has unseen for generations, ever since the last civil war. It is being rallied to the south, the military offering all races equal pay to bolster their ranks. The people of the steppes have already blocked off all major roads and are beginning construction of more outward military installations in response. They are trained to kill first, ask questions later. Those in the north keep to themselves, those to the north, shut their borders down. Those in the north, keep it.
Map
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