Post by Defluo on Aug 3, 2015 23:40:25 GMT
FireMercy - 13 - 112 Year of the Godsvent.
Crackling fire, Shuddering cold
Birds of beasts find solace
While only is the Company struggle
For only is the Company prevail
When trying times is perilous
Sayeth so the Goddess who only holds true in her heart of hearts.
And wise thirteen who hold it in their humble heads.
-Ratifers Lament 1:6
Numb digits played softly against each word in the scripture, mouthing them silently so as not to wake his nearby brethren. He could hardly see the text but that mattered little - he had never been taught how to read. Absorbing those little squiggly ink beasts and transforming them into pearls of wisdom eluded him even to this day but ...that's what made it powerful, did it not? It was a book of prophecy; of warnings and promises. That familiar lopsided grin extended across upon a wind-burnt countenance – such immense power in his hands!
Laiv took a swig of chel-tug(1*) and turned the page. The moon hung high in the sky and only with the power of alcohol was Laiv able to shrug off the chill that whispered down upon the camp. Ivian Fale, the seventh wise of the thirteen, had stayed true to his word and had packed up everything - including the guiding rock and the immovable sword(2*) - and for the past few weeks had been making their permanent trek southwards. What had began as a upbeat, invincible team had slowly began to crack under the limited rations, slow march and uncertainty of a destination. One day war had been declared on an unseen faction of blasphemous and malevolent tribes the next The Company had been planning to join forces and live amongst another tribe for the winter. Uncertainty breeds malcontent and it seemed only appropriate to look towards Hivian for the answer. Hivian and a bit more of chel-tug to keep warm, that is.
“What secrets do you posesss?” Laiv questioned the book but the book seemed ill equipped to respond. Brows furrowed in obvious displeasure, fingers pressed deeply into the pages as if to extract a solution by unorthodox means.
Another page, another swig, another passage read without much contemplated. Time passed, The Company minus one slept and Laiv had been ready to admit defeat when he sleepily recalled a cryptic passage long since forgotten. “A rider from tomorrows sun, will lead you to salvations light.”(3*) This was it! And the fact that he hadn't found it until now meant tomorrow this rider would appear and lead The Company to victory.
Laiv let out a sigh of quiet sigh of relief and tucked the tome underneath his pack. The fire crackled against the cold air and a wolf howled nearby, the others rallying around its cry. Solutions would come forth tomorrow, he just had to be prepared.
Laiv's eyes closed, his mind wandered and he slept.
------
(1*) - Chel-tug is an alcoholic beverage made from the fermented sap of the Undulies – one of the few unique plants still willing to grow in the grim mountains of The Bleeding Spine. After the unduly seeds mature in the barrels for ten days they are ready for consumption. Unduly seeds often rot quickly during this process and the drink more often then not tastes like licking an armpit that also happens to be on fire.
(2*) - Some of The Company had argued that moving the immovable sword was an affront to the Goddess Hivian herself however one of the wise thirteen had claimed that the chicken bones had granted permission to do so. Despite this, Covin – in charge of carrying the immovable sword – was seen as a bit of a black sheep of the bunch and few dared to sit with him during meals.
(3*) - In the passage of Ratifers Lament it actually quoted as “Tomorrows sun is always bright, ride forth” but consistent consumption of Chel-tug and an unfortunate blow to the head during practice a few years back had inadvertently scrambled a few memories within Laiv.
Crackling fire, Shuddering cold
Birds of beasts find solace
While only is the Company struggle
For only is the Company prevail
When trying times is perilous
Sayeth so the Goddess who only holds true in her heart of hearts.
And wise thirteen who hold it in their humble heads.
-Ratifers Lament 1:6
Numb digits played softly against each word in the scripture, mouthing them silently so as not to wake his nearby brethren. He could hardly see the text but that mattered little - he had never been taught how to read. Absorbing those little squiggly ink beasts and transforming them into pearls of wisdom eluded him even to this day but ...that's what made it powerful, did it not? It was a book of prophecy; of warnings and promises. That familiar lopsided grin extended across upon a wind-burnt countenance – such immense power in his hands!
Laiv took a swig of chel-tug(1*) and turned the page. The moon hung high in the sky and only with the power of alcohol was Laiv able to shrug off the chill that whispered down upon the camp. Ivian Fale, the seventh wise of the thirteen, had stayed true to his word and had packed up everything - including the guiding rock and the immovable sword(2*) - and for the past few weeks had been making their permanent trek southwards. What had began as a upbeat, invincible team had slowly began to crack under the limited rations, slow march and uncertainty of a destination. One day war had been declared on an unseen faction of blasphemous and malevolent tribes the next The Company had been planning to join forces and live amongst another tribe for the winter. Uncertainty breeds malcontent and it seemed only appropriate to look towards Hivian for the answer. Hivian and a bit more of chel-tug to keep warm, that is.
“What secrets do you posesss?” Laiv questioned the book but the book seemed ill equipped to respond. Brows furrowed in obvious displeasure, fingers pressed deeply into the pages as if to extract a solution by unorthodox means.
Another page, another swig, another passage read without much contemplated. Time passed, The Company minus one slept and Laiv had been ready to admit defeat when he sleepily recalled a cryptic passage long since forgotten. “A rider from tomorrows sun, will lead you to salvations light.”(3*) This was it! And the fact that he hadn't found it until now meant tomorrow this rider would appear and lead The Company to victory.
Laiv let out a sigh of quiet sigh of relief and tucked the tome underneath his pack. The fire crackled against the cold air and a wolf howled nearby, the others rallying around its cry. Solutions would come forth tomorrow, he just had to be prepared.
Laiv's eyes closed, his mind wandered and he slept.
------
(1*) - Chel-tug is an alcoholic beverage made from the fermented sap of the Undulies – one of the few unique plants still willing to grow in the grim mountains of The Bleeding Spine. After the unduly seeds mature in the barrels for ten days they are ready for consumption. Unduly seeds often rot quickly during this process and the drink more often then not tastes like licking an armpit that also happens to be on fire.
(2*) - Some of The Company had argued that moving the immovable sword was an affront to the Goddess Hivian herself however one of the wise thirteen had claimed that the chicken bones had granted permission to do so. Despite this, Covin – in charge of carrying the immovable sword – was seen as a bit of a black sheep of the bunch and few dared to sit with him during meals.
(3*) - In the passage of Ratifers Lament it actually quoted as “Tomorrows sun is always bright, ride forth” but consistent consumption of Chel-tug and an unfortunate blow to the head during practice a few years back had inadvertently scrambled a few memories within Laiv.
