Dominaiscna
The Dreamer
Okay so here's that essay i was talking about i randomly though up city names and the only thing that is the same as this roleplay is the setting : Wuldir.
They came at dawn.
Across blackened earth they ran with death right on their heels. They cried for the protection of the Goddess's light from heaven, but all that came from the sky were the blackened feathers and the shrill screeches of harpies as they descended upon the people of Serians. Our neighbours. Our allies. Our friends.
I, like the rest of the Council, knew the figures clearly like the back of my hand. 1 321 560 of the 1 600 000 people of Altia were dead. Of those, 452 000 were from Saurelia, 392 000 from Terris and the rest were the Serians outside our walls, running for their lives towards Wuldir, yet their fates had already been sealed when our city gates slammed shut.
We watched from the protection of our walls as the slaughter began. Men, women and children of Wuldir were awoken by the sounds of screaming and wailing from far off. Our whole city state was hushed into silence as the massacre raged on while we did nothing.
Upon reaching the city gates, the refugees banged on the metal bars, screaming and pleeing for us to open up to them. Yet the gatekeepers only stood tense at their posts high above on the wall, unmoving and, atop the balcony of the Council room, we just watched.
I, like many of the Council, cast wary looks at our Leader, waiting for him to give the command, but he stood still and said nothing with his eyes cast downward in an unwavering gaze, right at the refugees. He was condemning them and that's when we knew that it was over. All hope spluttered out like a flame.
Our leader had changed, we all had, ever since we sent a whole regiment of 160 000 Wuldirian soldiers to their death at Saurelia where the harpies first attacked. This loss took its toll on Wuldir and on it people especially.
As the creatures continued attack after attack on the other cities, we remained neutral, justifyings our actions by saying that they could take care of themselves, that we should worry about our own and that, if we helped, we would only bring demise to our own people. In truth...we were only selfish cowards.
By noon, the massacre was done. The last of the Serians and other citizens were obliterated. The ground was marked with the blood of millions, coating our outer walls and gates in red. But it wasn't over.
On the horizon, I could see the black swarms of millions of harpies, gathering for their last kill : Wuldir. In my mind, and no doubt in the mind of all of our people, I could already see the end coming and already knew the choices we made in Saurelia had sealed our fate. We were the last city standing and, before the sun rose the next day, we would all be gone, reduced to ashes.
The last moments of one's life are always filled with questions.
If we had maybe continued, despite our losses, to support our allies... Would we have succeeded? If we all stood united to fight together.. Would we have succeeded? If we didn't lock them out...would we have succeeded? If we did not help, then who? And if we did not then, then when?
Instead we sat and waited for salvation. We hoped to leave the fight for others and, when they needed us, we turned our backs on them. Maybe if we'd stopped and helped them, even if it made no difference to our situation...It was too late, but the short command would've been so easy to utter.
"Let them in."
Your thoughts?
Across blackened earth they ran with death right on their heels. They cried for the protection of the Goddess's light from heaven, but all that came from the sky were the blackened feathers and the shrill screeches of harpies as they descended upon the people of Serians. Our neighbours. Our allies. Our friends.
I, like the rest of the Council, knew the figures clearly like the back of my hand. 1 321 560 of the 1 600 000 people of Altia were dead. Of those, 452 000 were from Saurelia, 392 000 from Terris and the rest were the Serians outside our walls, running for their lives towards Wuldir, yet their fates had already been sealed when our city gates slammed shut.
We watched from the protection of our walls as the slaughter began. Men, women and children of Wuldir were awoken by the sounds of screaming and wailing from far off. Our whole city state was hushed into silence as the massacre raged on while we did nothing.
Upon reaching the city gates, the refugees banged on the metal bars, screaming and pleeing for us to open up to them. Yet the gatekeepers only stood tense at their posts high above on the wall, unmoving and, atop the balcony of the Council room, we just watched.
I, like many of the Council, cast wary looks at our Leader, waiting for him to give the command, but he stood still and said nothing with his eyes cast downward in an unwavering gaze, right at the refugees. He was condemning them and that's when we knew that it was over. All hope spluttered out like a flame.
Our leader had changed, we all had, ever since we sent a whole regiment of 160 000 Wuldirian soldiers to their death at Saurelia where the harpies first attacked. This loss took its toll on Wuldir and on it people especially.
As the creatures continued attack after attack on the other cities, we remained neutral, justifyings our actions by saying that they could take care of themselves, that we should worry about our own and that, if we helped, we would only bring demise to our own people. In truth...we were only selfish cowards.
By noon, the massacre was done. The last of the Serians and other citizens were obliterated. The ground was marked with the blood of millions, coating our outer walls and gates in red. But it wasn't over.
On the horizon, I could see the black swarms of millions of harpies, gathering for their last kill : Wuldir. In my mind, and no doubt in the mind of all of our people, I could already see the end coming and already knew the choices we made in Saurelia had sealed our fate. We were the last city standing and, before the sun rose the next day, we would all be gone, reduced to ashes.
The last moments of one's life are always filled with questions.
If we had maybe continued, despite our losses, to support our allies... Would we have succeeded? If we all stood united to fight together.. Would we have succeeded? If we didn't lock them out...would we have succeeded? If we did not help, then who? And if we did not then, then when?
Instead we sat and waited for salvation. We hoped to leave the fight for others and, when they needed us, we turned our backs on them. Maybe if we'd stopped and helped them, even if it made no difference to our situation...It was too late, but the short command would've been so easy to utter.
"Let them in."
Your thoughts?
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