[Empire!] Fires in the North 2: Judgment Day

[Aedilred]

The Approach to the Blazing Temple

The journey had been relatively straightforward. For once Elwyn had cause to thank the mercenary nature of Guilderenes for the ease of their passage. So many years had passed since his last visit to the Temple, in the time of Brother Charles.

Simovyr had been quiet for much of their journey, and only more so as they had approached their destination. The old priest was spending more and more time meditating, trying to commune with the Lord, or at least to make some sense of this situation. He had spent hours back in Salcaster and Jarrland debating the nature of Tzetultep and whether there could be some truth to this revelation, and then dwelling on darker possibilities.

Elwyn had laughed when Simovyr had first suggested the business could be a Radurjic plot, and yet he had to admit the evidence, though circumstantial, could not be dismissed without question. Mosi had played the key role in Nezetkhamun's rise, nobody knew anything of Ramzi's past, and subsuming the Temple's authority was a long-held ambition of the Radurjic church. Still, he could not bring himself to believe that the Tzaltec were really puppets, witting or otherwise, of the Shahidi Mkuu. Simovyr had been more serious:

"You don't really think this?"

"All things are possible."

But Elwyn wasn't sure what concerned the Triad more: that his suspicions of foul play might be proven correct, or that the revelation might transpire to be genuine. Five thousand troops had accompanied them here, whatever the case: Burning Legionaries; Knights of Discord; zealots from Trinacria. The Qeyzer and the Triad were not the only men with a stake in what happened here.

One of the scouts flapped to a halt some distance away, before Elwyn and his senior officers. There were Faedas banners in sight - clearly he was not the only ruler with plans for the Temple.

"Orders?" Alfrett asked.

"Raise a flag of truce. We will attempt to treat with them."

[Reggiejam]

The Faedas army of the Heartwaste was camped outside the walls of the Blazing Temple. The doors had been sealed and as of yet no representative of the Temple had come to speak so the soldiers and their Queen waited. The Queen was in her royal tent speaking with her Brood, nix Vasili who she had sent to 'discuss matters of theology and geography' with the Guilderenes, when a messenger arrived with news of the Carmine arrival. Kyria stood at the news, thanking the messenger and turning to address her Brood.

"Eevi, Rikki, go and alert the troops to post more regulars to patrol," she commanded the bastard brother and sister pair who nodded in unison and departed.

"Alton, ensure that the Children do not interfere with these proceedings. Their time will come," she directed the Tiefling man known outside the Brood simply as the Grandmaster. The elder once-noble walked out with determined purpose.

All that remained in her tent was herself, two members of the Faedic Wardens and the man known simply as 'The Atheling.' He was tall and gaunt in feature to match his queen with wings of black feathers in complimenting contrast to Kyria's own black batlike appendages. He wore a mithril-adamantine sword, almost impossible to forge, at his hip that radiated a dark power and dressed in a simple royal fashion befitting the old styles of ancient Jarr kings though not in the purples and crimsons associated with the land but black, grey, and silver with a stripe of violet marking him as Faedic.

"And what of me my lady? Shall I make myself unseen for our guests?" the man's voice was quiet but cold and steely such that his words would be heard despite the soft volume.

"No, not today," Kyria answered as she pulled a fur cloak about her shoulders, less to fight the mountain chill than to give the false appearance of concern for temperature, "Today you accompany me. As my champion."

The Atheling raised a black eyebrow in surprise but an undercurrent of glee ran across his features as he followed his Queen from her tent.

---

The pair, Queen and Atheling arrived outside the Carmine camp accompanied by a small contingent of Wardens who at the Queen's behest stayed behind as the Faedas Queen and her companion entered the camp proper. Kyria could smell the wet muck and sweat of men preparing for war. It was similar to her own camp but the scent here was different. The incense and native foods of the southern lands adding a peculiar blend. So too could she hear the thousands of voices as she walked through the camp, guided by Carmine soldiery to her destination meeting with the King and his own companion. She heard languages she knew and some she didn't. Southern dialects of Trinacria she'd never had the chance to study and the strange bastard language of Discordia, a mix between High and Low Salterri only further muddled by Jarrish influences.

She could hear the quiet whispers of some as she passed by. There were those who called her a monster made flesh, others who were unaware entirely who she even was. None much commented on her companion. His death had occurred so long ago it seemed his entire memory had been forgotten. The thought brought a small smile to her lips as she wondered who all would even recognize the name behind the title. Certainly his presence here was far more egregious to those pledging themselves to the Jarrish King than her own.

At last the pair arrived where they were to meet King Elwyn and his companion, a man Kyria had heard known as Simovyr. The descendant of the line the Jarrow had constructed to give some manor of claim over the name Divonorum. It seemed a common practice for the Jarrow to insert their name into any royal line that would let them.

"Qeyzer King Elwyn," Kyria addressed the Sobrida emperor with a modest deference to his higher title, "You have come a long way from home to talk my lord. I hope your printing presses have not made it so that those in your kingdom no longer write letters. It was my given understanding the Carmine interest in the Temple was one of religious scholarship not of military conquest within the heart of the Empire of Dusk."

[Aedilred]

"My lady," Elwyn said, as Kyria arrived before him. If he was surprised to see her companion, he gave no outward sign. He had been king for more than fifty years, as long in the position as Kyria herself, once her long period of absence was taken into account, and he had long since learned to mask his emotions.

There was something antiquarian and funereal about the Faedic party, and not just the smell of decay that accompanied the queen and her close aides, something he could never quite get used to but was nevertheless something he could now anticipate. Kyria seemed to belong to another world: the last time she had walked the face of Telluris had been a different age; an era when Radurja had still reigned nearly supreme on the central continent; a time when the Concordat had still held sway in the east... before he himself had been king, indeed. Her companion too belonged to a vanished world, the last remnant of the long-vanished Priory. There was some comfort to be taken from the thought: his own standing was no less ancient - a line of kings a thousand years old - and his companions were by no means young. But his title and his kingdom were relatively recent, proving themselves in this new world. He had been one of the architects of the present, and the ghosts of the past did not intimidate him.

"I did not expect to find you keeping such low company," he said, with a glance towards the man at her side, as Alfrett and his own champion Marrik moved up to stand alongside him. There was another name from the past, before even Kyria's time. Duke Marrik of Sunder was an infamous name among the Children of Kina, even if the individual was not the same, the title now largely ceremonial, and the Duke himself over seventy years of age. To look at the leaders of this expedition, one would have to wonder if they expected to return home.

The wind lifted the red-and-gold banner of Sobrida, causing it to snap lightly as it fluttered, the remaining banners more sluggishly stirring to a semblance of life before they slumped back against their poles.

"Our interest is theological. But you must know, my lady, that theology and politics cannot be easily disentangled. We come to find the truth of Ramzi's so-said revelation - and if we find it false, we have brought the means to rectify that. Malign influence, be this a Tzaltec or a Radurjic scheme, shall not be allowed to grow. We all learned a lesson from the travails of Queen Loris." He gestured towards the summit. "It is not our intention to challenge the station of the Freehold or the Empire of Dusk, rather to restore sanity to an institution important to many across the world both within and without our borders, as Lord Liam did so many years ago."

Spoiler: Illustration

Show

[lt_murgen]

"Move it, boy!” The Sobridan quartermaster barked. His guilder-speech was terrible, and the boy looked at him blankly. The quartermaster reached into the hay wagon where Tides was crouched, pulling him out and onto his feet. “Oats!” The quartermaster spoke slowly and clearly, pointing to one wagon. “Take there.” He continued, pointing to where the cavalry horses were being corralled.

Tides bobbed his head up and down eagerly, a big grin on his face. He bent down to tie his ill-fitting and much worn boots as the quartermaster turned to speak to another soldier. Neither noticed Tides scoop up the red cloth that had fallen from his sleeve when he was pulled from the wagon. Securing it in his boot, he scurried off to do his chores.

“You are a damn fool, allowing these Guilderene camp followers.” The soldier said.
“They work hard for fair coin. Not all are touched like Tides.” The quartermaster replied. “Great Squalls, if they all worked as hard as that boy, I’d gladly not talk to any of them!” He laughed.

Tides was a hard worker, once he could be made to understand. He was a strong teen, but simple-minded. The large scar on his forehead ppointed to the source of his limited intellect. He hauled oats and hay, shoveled manure, dug ditches, anything asked, for a few cheap coins. At night, while other’s rested, he shined shoes and washed the officers clothes. By the time the Sobridan army made camp outside the temple, he had earned the nickname Cockroach, always scurrying about the camp on some menial task.

[Reggiejam]

"If an Atheling of the Carmine Kingdom is low company I fear myself simply unsuited for higher companionship," Kyria answered as the figures around the King shuffled to peacock and preen their high names and titles, taken off the corpses of dead men.

"If as you say is true that all you seek is to assess and in answer rectify then our desires have no conflict. We will happily accompany you to determine for yourselves the truth or falsehood of the matter and just as happily serve as escort as you seek to remove Ramzi to the east or escort him out of the Temple to be enshrined in the south where he and his kind might find more acceptance. The Temple itself has however shown itself to be a point of weakness to Faedas and to the whole of the Dusk. Its presence as an institution of the dead and dying Lord of Fire religion will not be tolerated any longer in mountains shared by nations of the Mother."

[Aedilred]

"Atheling he calls himself?" Elwyn gave a small, hollow laugh, and turned slightly towards Fydias. "I see you have adopted the habits of your former Priory masters in claiming titles to which you have no right and seeking sanctuary behind the skirts of your betters. Before this day is done there will be a reckoning between us."

His eyes narrowed as Kyria continued to talk about the Temple, aware of an angry muttering from those Trinacrian officers within earshot. Simovyr himself seemed to be paying little attention to the conversation, eyes glazed and staring into the middle distance.

Privately Elwyn had wondered the same himself as Kyria now suggested: whether it would not be better for the Temple to be removed permanently to Calorum, to Gunung or even to Discordia, where it could be better protected by the faithful. The reclamation of the Temple as the centre of the northern religion after Nissa's assassination a century ago had been an impressive show of power, but had left the Temple surrounded by unbelievers, and it was in many respects remarkable the Temple had endured as long as it had without an attempt being made to reduce it.

But he was damned if he would back down so easily. Besides, his titles were not merely for show, even now. As the dusk brought the darkness, so it was his duty to maintain what light he could.

"Dead and dying? Is Kina not concerned with the preservation of dead things?" A thin smile crossed his lips. "The faith of the Lord is far from dying: more people follow His will than at any time in recorded history, in some form or other, even accounting for the recent ministrations of Brother Ramzi. It was your own mother, was it not, my lady, who strove to preserve the Temple during her reign and built this road to the summit?"

[lt_murgen]

Tides finished hauling the oats to the makeshift paddock. Looking around, he spotted a group of horses near a congregation of people he did not recognize. Horses needed nummies, he reasoned, so he approached the group. There was some argument going on in a language he had to force himself to not understand. Tugging on the reins of the nearest horse, he whispered quietly in Guilderene, "Stable?"

The royal guard turned to look at the teen simpleton and scowled. Hissing quietly through clenched teeth, "Get!" A sharp glance and a quick head nod accented his displeasure.

Tides moved a short distance away and sat cross-legged in the dirt, waiting patiently until he could take the horses to the paddock.

[Reggiejam]

"A Dragon who claims to be King of Lions speaks of false titles? I suspect you believe your defeat of a true Jarr too foolish to seek aid makes your reign true and just. If you seek reckoning then draw your blade."

Kyria was silent, waiting for the possible sound of steel sliding free from its sheath. When it did not come, though she did not doubt it would, she answered the southern king.

"My mother made many mistakes Your Grace. One need only look at my patrilineal heritage to see Valineth was a woman fraught with poor judgment. But rest assured, the Temple will be preserved. The Tomb of the Lord, a fitting role for His blazing eminence within the Call. I do not desire the eradication of Ramzi, his Doctrine, or the one that came before. Only its removal from my step and the step of three great nations of the Mother."

[Aedilred]

"The tomb of the Lord!" Alfrett cried, from behind his father. "This Temple which has stood here for centuries, long before the benighted faith of the Children crawled out of its swamp? The Blazing truth is to remove itself from its ancient home at the behest of a kingdom which has refused entreaties to withdraw its own missionaries from the Isles, which has disregarded the treaty agreed by Valineth and the Lion-"

"Silence." Elwyn did not turn. Alfrett was a magnificent warrior, but his twin had all the diplomatic nous. "You are of no use to us here bickering. Go to the Temple and see if the First Brother has anything to add to this discussion."

Alfrett gave a nod to Kyria and walked away, before mounting his dragon and flying towards the Temple.

"If we are to discuss the future of the Temple, it would seem only fair to give its residents a voice in the matter," Elwyn said, after he had left, before glancing back to Fydias. "My reign was founded in law, not in conflict. I was the named heir of King Malyn; that my brother's misgivings and misguided ambitions led him to challenge my rightful succession was to the detriment of us all. But he was my brother nonetheless, and I shall not stand to see him insulted. But then the word of a thrice-damned traitor, to his kingdom, to his family, to his faith, is worth less than nothing, and such insults as... the croaking of a toad." A faint smile played on his lips as he recalled a favourite dismissive idiom used by the Priory diplomats of old.


The Temple

Despite the temptation simply to fly into the Temple grounds, Alfrett thought he had better remain mindful of the proprieties. He landed Harmatis outside the gates and dismounted, before walking forwards, looking for any sign of life from within.

"First Brother Ramzi! Your eminences Ladies Greta and Adylla! My father and Queen Kyria request an audience and await you below!"

[Rain Dragon]

The Temple

Yeva could barely stop herself from charging at the usurpers as she leaned upon her staff and looked around. The theological differences between the True Fiery Faith of Calorum and the Blazing Temple's Fiery Faith were bad enough in Yeva's eyes, let alone this... this! Heresy! Blasphemy! Yeva shall show them the Truth, for there is none higher than Him; the Lord of Fire himself, not some dragon of the East. She was just itching to set the specialised ends of her staff on fire and deliver these people to the Flame but knew that she would have to control her fiery temper... for now.

Instead, Yeva contented herself with grumbling to whoever happens to be listening, "The sight of this so called 'Temple' sickens me." Her voice dripped with venom as she glared at the Blazing Temple with deep brown eyes flecked with gold.

[QuintonBeck]

Ramzi was sitting in prayer, a circle of Brothers and Sisters around him, the Avatars Adylla and Greta to his right and left, as he meditated behind the low gate walls of the Temple. He had of course heard and seen the arrival of the two armies outside the Temple grounds but had not stirred to answer their arrival. A sudden gust of air, whipped by the wings of a wyvern blew through the courtyard and Ramzi heard a voice shout his name and those of his pupils.

Opening his eyes the First Brother stood, his old age showing through his facade of strength and power.

"Adylla, Greta, if you will accompany me?"

The two women, each infused with the Blessing of the Lord turned to look up at the First Brother with a look of tired resignation and complied, standing beside him and joining him as he began to walk to the gate that kept the Temple enshrined. The First Brother and the two Avatars exited the gate and he looked over to where the Jarr man who had called for him now sat on the back of his mount.

"A dragon at the Temple's gate, a fitting symbol," Ramzi smiled at the Jarr royal and continued down the path, noting the war camps in the distance.

Such a fuss over a statement of truth. The elder First Brother felt himself grow eager with anticipation as he approached the feuding King and Queen of South and North.

"Greetings my children," he announced himself as he approached, Adylla and Greta flanking him a manner like body guards, "So many pilgrims to the Temple today. Or perhaps it is not pilgrimage that brings you here at all?"

[Aedilred]

The Temple

Yeva could barely stop herself from charging at the usurpers as she leaned upon her staff and looked around. The theological differences between the True Fiery Faith of Calorum and the Blazing Temple's Fiery Faith were bad enough in Yeva's eyes, let alone this... this! Heresy! Blasphemy! Yeva shall show them the Truth, for there is none higher than Him; the Lord of Fire himself, not some dragon of the East. She was just itching to set the specialised ends of her staff on fire and deliver these people to the Flame but knew that she would have to control her fiery temper... for now.

Instead, Yeva contented herself with grumbling to whoever happens to be listening, "The sight of this so called 'Temple' sickens me." Her voice dripped with venom as she glared at the Blazing Temple with deep brown eyes flecked with gold.

Janwyr Lynd, known as Valens to his friends, had taken the view that this dispute was not going to be resolved any time soon and was preparing to give the order for his men to break fast when he realised they already had. Soldiers rarely missed an opportunity to eat. Then he spotted the priestess glaring up at the Temple and overheard her complaints.

"My lady," he said, crashing his fist against his chest in a respectful salute, "I am Tribune Valens of the Burning Legion. Would you honour us by sharing our meal? I do not think we shall be approaching the Temple for some time."

"A dragon at the Temple's gate, a fitting symbol," Ramzi smiled at the Jarr royal and continued down the path, noting the war camps in the distance.

Such a fuss over a statement of truth. The elder First Brother felt himself grow eager with anticipation as he approached the feuding King and Queen of South and North.

"Greetings my children," he announced himself as he approached, Adylla and Greta flanking him a manner like body guards, "So many pilgrims to the Temple today. Or perhaps it is not pilgrimage that brings you here at all?"

"More than one dragon," Alfrett said, softly. Indeed, there were a number in the valley below, many of them mounts of the Knights, but first and greatest among them the mighty golden wyrm known across the south as Lumisand, Elwyn's own dragon, who soared above the assembled army. Beside him flew the white-gold Annetuli, the mount of the Triad of Flame.

He nodded politely, though without obesiance, to the First Brother and the Avatars, before taking to the air once more. It seemed he barely had to nudge Harmatis for her to know his wish.

---

Valens saw the group from the Temple approaching and realised that the Avatars were in the party. He, along with several of his men, clambered to his feet to get a look at the legendary Calorum Avatar, Greta Cardion Divinorum. As she came closer, however, elation turned to shock as he got a clearer look at her features.

"Dear Lord, what have they done to her?" he murmured.

[TheDarkDM]

"More than one dragon,"

A voice came from the temple gates in answer, but not one, perhaps, that Alfrett expected.

"You are more right than you know, my dear great-grandson."

His coming was presaged by the twining shadows that robed him, which curled hungrily around the gates of the temple as he passed. His eyes glowed with a fire to shame the sun as he looked upon the blood of his blood, and his smile was that of a father wolf inspecting his cub, and just as predatory. Nezetkhamun had come when he had been called. To act as mediator, guide, and voice for the faith to which Ramzi had married the temple. He proceeded in the wake of the two Blazing Avatars, a procession of divine might united as they approached the King and Queen of two great kingdoms.

[Aedilred]

Alfrett's eyes widened as he saw Nezetkhamun emerge. "Great-grandfather," he said, with a respectful nod. "I am sure my father will be happy to see you."

Indeed, Elwyn's eyebrows raised in surprise as he saw Nezetkhamun approaching with the Avatars and Ramzi. He bowed slightly as they neared. Behind him, Simovyr scarcely moved, somewhat to the king's surprise: he would have thought the sight of his daughter would bestir the old priest if nothing else, but he seemed lost in thought, or meditation, or perhaps just senility. That was a worrying thought, that he had journeyed all this way on the whim of a madman.

"Greetings my children," he announced himself as he approached, Adylla and Greta flanking him a manner like body guards, "So many pilgrims to the Temple today. Or perhaps it is not pilgrimage that brings you here at all?"

"I suspect that depends on one's definition of pilgrimage, Brother Ramzi," Elwyn replied. "I and mine come to seek theological enlightenment in the place where the faith of the Lord has longest endured. Queen Kyria has, I believe, different intentions, though it will depend on the enlightenment achieved whether we stand in her path or whether we stand at her back."

"We come to discover the truth," Marrik said, more harshly. "Whether this recent revelation of yours is the true light of the Lord, or whether it is a scheme to suborn the Doctrine for political ends."

[QuintonBeck]

"More than one dragon,"

A voice came from the temple gates in answer, but not one, perhaps, that Alfrett expected.

"You are more right than you know, my dear great-grandson."

His coming was presaged by the twining shadows that robed him, which curled hungrily around the gates of the temple as he passed. His eyes glowed with a fire to shame the sun as he looked upon the blood of his blood, and his smile was that of a father wolf inspecting his cub, and just as predatory. Nezetkhamun had come when he had been called. To act as mediator, guide, and voice for the faith to which Ramzi had married the temple. He proceeded in the wake of the two Blazing Avatars, a procession of divine might united as they approached the King and Queen of two great kingdoms.

Ramzi's calm demeanor was startled at the sound of Nezetkhamun behind him.

"Your Holiness," he turned to bow at the great dragon's presence, "I was not aware you would be arriving here. Thank you for your presence, I hope it may yet allow these tribulations to be settled."

Alfrett's eyes widened as he saw Nezetkhamun emerge. "Great-grandfather," he said, with a respectful nod. "I am sure my father will be happy to see you."

Indeed, Elwyn's eyebrows raised in surprise as he saw Nezetkhamun approaching with the Avatars and Ramzi. He bowed slightly as they neared. Behind him, Simovyr scarcely moved, somewhat to the king's surprise: he would have thought the sight of his daughter would bestir the old priest if nothing else, but he seemed lost in thought, or meditation, or perhaps just senility. That was a worrying thought, that he had journeyed all this way on the whim of a madman.



"I suspect that depends on one's definition of pilgrimage, Brother Ramzi," Elwyn replied. "I and mine come to seek theological enlightenment in the place where the faith of the Lord has longest endured. Queen Kyria has, I believe, different intentions, though it will depend on the enlightenment achieved whether we stand in her path or whether we stand at her back."

"We come to discover the truth," Marrik said, more harshly. "Whether this recent revelation of yours is the true light of the Lord, or whether it is a scheme to suborn the Doctrine for political ends."

"I do not seek to deceive any who come to this temple," Ramzi's eyes passed over the Faedas delegation at the word 'deceive', "I stand here with the triadic symbols of the faith behind me. Ask me anything and I will answer in the full truth I know."

[Aedilred]

"I do not seek to deceive any who come to this temple," Ramzi's eyes passed over the Faedas delegation at the word 'deceive', "I stand here with the triadic symbols of the faith behind me. Ask me anything and I will answer in the full truth I know."

Elwyn stepped back to allow Simovyr to step forward. For all that the king was a figure of authority within the church thanks to his venerability - he had after all been present at the earliest conclaves and ceremonies - matters relating to the Lord of Fire were for the Triad to determine, and the old priest looked over those who stood before him.

"You speak of a triad, Brother Ramzi, and yet I see two Avatars where there should be three, and your own political patron. There was a time when more than one Avatar was considered a crisis within the church, a question to be resolved. Is the Avatar of the modern conception one soul in three bodies, and if so what if they speak with different voices? Or are they three souls in three bodies, in which case which takes precedence? Should they not all speak with unity? How can major revisions be made to Temple doctrine unless all three are assembled?"

He looked to Greta. "It is my understanding that you were returned to this world while Hushyarr was still among us. You were returned by the dark magics of the Dunfel, from what I hear, in the fullness of maturity, that you might lead the church, and yet I have heard not one word from you since your return. Why have you not fulfilled the role you were brought here to do? Why have you now embraced the ritual of human sacrifice, and the existence of multiple Avatars, when in your prior incarnation it was those very matters which shook you to personal intervention?"

He turned to Adylla: while those looking closely might have noticed a slight softening of his expression, there was little indication they had met before, let alone that he was her father. "Brother Ramzi declared that you were the manifestation of the Fire Above. What was it that led you to this conclusion about the nature of the Lord? Why did you not speak of it before you came to the Temple? And why was it Ramzi who made this pronouncement and not you?"

[QuintonBeck]

Ramzi stood through Simovyr's accusations with a calm smile on his face.

"If I might answer your first questions Brother Simovyr? In the event you are unaware I will attest to the divine infusement of His Holiness Nezetkhamun with the power of the Lord Dragon, so he who stands now before you is no mere political patron but a divinely blessed speaker for our deity, one who much like your King Elwyr passed a blessing onto his family to mark them as of the Lord. A blessing born by your King in harmonious blessing with the blessing of Blessed King Elwyr."

"The Blazing Incarnation has never been a singular soul, it is the manifest will of the Lord on our earthly realm. While the crisis of Adam and the division of the Incarnation was indeed a great tribulation for the Temple you are no doubt a student enough of theological history to remember it was when these incarnations were brought in close proximity that they suffered a, shall we use the term, forced reunification? Well, I answer simply with look to my sides and behind. Do you see anyone bursting into flames or suffering in the throes of consternation? The same questions you asked wracked my own mind when I saw it and it was for them that I sat in deep meditation, seeking communion with the Lord and his Avatars as representatives, and it was through this I found the truth. I suspect the Valterran held a yet greater portion of the revelation but it is the Lord's way to act mysteriously and I can only assume those answers are intended for one of greater faith than I."

Greta stirred but only mumbled quietly and Ramzi took up to speak once more.

"You'll excuse the girl, her time with the Dunfel has rendered her verbosity rather limited. Nevertheless, I believe I can answer your questions. You use the term 'dark magics' yet these were ancient rituals, uncovered within the Temple, and tacitly endorsed by First Brother Charles Calciver, a man I believe is held in some regards in Carmine lands? He certainly is within the walls of this Temple, a man who reinvigorated a faith that had until his election waned. It is after him I model my own self, and when the Lord Dragon came to me and told me of his true form and I knew that so too was the Lord in the east that I knew I had honored his memory. It was Charles himself who admitted me to the Temple, who sent me to Cridan to learn of the Lord and, I believe, to face the trial of the Bale Horse which ultimately led to my ascension as First Brother and my revelation."

"As to the issue of sacrifice, it is an ancient knowledge within the Temple, one that was tamped down by Yosi Cedro, Paco, and their students and tainted by the black will of Adam but not one of inherent evil. The Calorumites sacrifice their brooders to the Lord that their High Priest might remain pure. Does that seem to you a simple cultural quirk or a truth within the texts of the flaming tongue that forced their separation from a Temple that would no longer tolerate them? I can understand the reticence to accept it, and for its cruel uses by Adam and the Brothers and Avatars of old who burned Celerese and slew non-believers for sport it only makes its acceptance harder, but understand the texts of flame and of the Lord do not endorse such wanton acts of murder and death. It is the Lord Dragon's way to accept only those devoted to His light. His Holiness Nezetkhamun could not have been empowered by the blood of infidels, it was through the lives of the devoted he emerged as an Avatar of the Lord Dragon. Greta could not have been pulled back into our realm by the sacrifice of Dunfel prisoners, only by the sacrifice of the devoted Dunfel who learned their faith at the knee of Brother Calciver."

"The Blazing Temple does not endorse the slaughter of any and all to feed the Lord's thirst, it is through the sacrifice of the loyal and devout that he gains his power. A power demonstrated by the heroic sacrifice of the lives of my Brothers and Sisters in the destruction of Stuyvesant."

As Simovyr turned his gaze to Adylla Ramzi joined him, offering the woman a sympathetic look.

"The revelation came to Ramzi," she answered slowly, "As the sun provides its light to Telluris, so is my purpose to provide the guiding and warming light of the Lord to the Faith. It is my blessing Ramzi, I, think. The light of Elwyr and the Blazing Incarnation determining my role as Fire Above. Ramzi speaks for the unified Temple," she continued, her voice that one of mantra, "What he speaks, Greta and I know."

[Aedilred]

"And so the Lord has sent us one Avatar who cannot speak, and another who will not." Simovyr raised a hand to quell the comment from behind, though he looked long and hard at Adylla before he turned back to Ramzi.

"It is precisely my regard for Charles Calciver which leads me to query this supposed revelation, among other things," he said with a frown. "You say, Brother Ramzi, that he endorsed the ritual to revive Greta tacitly, but tacit endorsement is a curious thing, is it not - by virtue of being tacit. He gave no indication to any outside the Temple of his opinion of the revivification but he did not speak out in favour. Anything else must be supposition. He did however express his opinion on the subject of human sacrifice during the days of the Black Flame, and that message was at odds with that you now espouse as Temple doctrine.

"Where an Avatar's spirit is sundered it has not always been the case that bringing together a mere two of them shall force a reunification. It took a full ritual on the part of Tendaji to reunite the spirit of Yosi Cedro in Greta. In the case of King Elwyr that appears to have been a failure of will on his part, as well as a shard of an older spirit returning to a newer one. Moreover we have no known precedent for an Avatar being revived, let alone within the lifespan of one of their successors. We cannot make assumptions as to how the spirit will behave under conditions we have never seen before and do not understand. It seems to me you are still missing at least one portion of your Lord's spirit, whether that spirit has been reborn in a fresh child or has been siphoned off by Stuyvesant for whatever foul purpose. The church surely cannot consider itself united until that element has been restored."

He gave a cold smile at the mention of the Brooders. "You need not lecture me on the practices of Calorum, Brother, for I am well informed, and I assure you that the execution of the Brooders has naught to do with spiritual purity and all to do with politics. To allow a surviving parent to have input into the raising of a Divinorum child would be unacceptable for the supremacist faction within government. My uncle has seized the office that should rightfully have passed to my father on that basis, but there is no suggestion that the Lord frowns upon the descendants of those who are not sacrificed. Indeed, each of those who stand beside you is the ultimate product of such a union, as am I. Moreover the execution of the Brooders even in its restraint, no more than twenty persons in the last three centuries, contrasted with the bloodbath executed here to smite Stuyvesant, has never till now been endorsed by the Temple. Brother Charles of whom you speak with reverence himself informed Lady Arvaya of such on this spot, I believe." Elwyn nodded solemnly; he had been there.

"The mention of Charles raises one further question too, for he never trusted you, did he, Brother Ramzi? He was ever suspicious that you were a Tzaltec agent: that is why he sent you to Cridan in the first place. You returned a hero no doubt, but with the blood of how many Temple brothers and sisters on your hands? It seems that body count among the faithful has been how you have subsequently measured success. This Temple has at times espoused violence when necessary, to be sure, and has ever been a fount for passion, but only in your tenure as First Brother has it acquired the gore-splattered trappings of the east which now seem such a core part of its theology."

[QuintonBeck]

"What you believe to be trappings of the east, I know to be the ancient rites of this very Temple, Brother," Ramzi answered, for the first time his eyes growing cold and piercing, "You say sacrifice has never been practiced, it may have waned in the times of the recent past but the Lord has always accepted, nay, demanded blood. Nearly all great rituals of the Lord have been precipitated on the sacrificed lives of others. The Lord's fire burns within us all and is eager to return to Him. You seem either unwilling or incapable of listening to this however, a point I find most strange from a man led by a King so clearly blessed by the Lord Dragon in every fashion, of this Temple and 'of the East' as you might say."

"You've come to my home for a purpose, answers you say, and when I provide them you deny them. What then is your true purposed Brother? Why are you here? What do you plan to do?"

[Aedilred]

"We did come here for answers, Brother Ramzi, and you and your charges have provided them. In what you have said-" he glanced towards his daughter, and then towards Greta - "and what you have not. I have heard enough."

He nodded to each of the Avatars and to Ramzi and walked over towards Elwyn, stopping close enough that the conversation might have been personal

"What is your conclusion?" Elwyn asked.

He hesitated for a moment. The Qzare remained head of the religion, although on spiritual matters the Triads were his closest consultants. Nevertheless he would have welcomed the opportunity to speak with Laoying before continuing - but he had come too far and the Faedas army was too close to countenance travelling back to Salteire for confirmation. "Do you trust me, Lord Qeyzer?"

Elwyn blinked. "Of course." Though his eyes narrowed. "Why do you feel the need to ask?"

"I shall announce my findings for all to hear." He stepped away, clutching the Sunspear in his right hand, and using it almost as a walking stick. The more junior priests of Panshén followed, apparently eager to hear what the Triad had to say, until he reached a small outcrop on which he raised himself, so that his voice might carry to the more distant faithful.

"There was a time when the word of the Avatar was all," he declared, "but those days are a long time gone. It is near two and a half centuries since the gift of divine insight was bestowed upon Combulei the Great, and near a hundred years since the martyrdom of Elwyr and the diffusion of his blessing. A full century since the last true Avatar was slain on the steps of the Temple - not this Temple, remote and mysterious, but a Temple in the heartlands of the congregation. Since then we have endured false Avatars, an apparent splintering of the Lord's presence on this world yet further. And now one man claims to speak for all.

"Hushyarr's disastrous days as Avatar taught us one thing - that Avatars are not infallible, that they retain personal goals and ambitions and frailties; that they can be foolish, they can be corrupted, they can be manipulated. Hushyarr sought to use the Lord for his own ends rather than allowing the Lord to use Him as He saw fit. And yet the true danger of Hushyarr's tenure did not become apparent until more recently, for we came to look to the First Brother as head of the Doctrine, rather than to the Avatars themselves. Such a thing would have been unthinkable in the days of Paco, or even Adam before his madness. Charles Calciver was by all accounts a good man who was obliged to exercise what authority he could, given the falsehood of the Lord's representative, one who would never have claimed to head the Temple were it not necessary for the continuation of the faith. Now we are faced with a man who in the presence of two Avatars believes himself the true head of the Doctrine.

"Who is this Ramzi? He stands before us and appears unremarkable. He is no Divinorum; no Jarrow; no Avatar. There is no indication that the Lord has favoured him more than any other or that he has any great gift of divine insight. He is not of noble, let alone royal blood, the supremacy of which his own doctrine upholds. And yet it seems he has stumbled across a revelation hidden from those more blessed since the dawn of reliably recorded history. This revelation came not to me, the spiritual head of the largest single congregation of the Lord on this world, nor to my grandmother in Calorum. It eluded King Elwyr and my grandfather Good King Malyn, the foremost theological scholars of their day. It came not to either of the Avatars who stand beside him, the worldly representatives of the Lord, and Divinorums both. It has evaded every Avatar since Yosi Cedro, and even Adam at the height of his madness never supposed this much.

"By Brother Ramzi's own philosophy do I find him wanting! He talks of divine right and great bloodlines, and yet he holds these two women he claims to revere in bondage as his students. He has emptied their minds with the trickeries of his eastern patrons and filled them with his own dogma - when it should be he who kneels before them, for who is he? A former slave of no great provenance, and he claims to speak with the voice of a god.

"Before I came here to see the truth for myself I had considered that perhaps this was after all a final scheme by those of Radurja: that Mosi had chosen this form in which to reincarnate that he might attempt to seize control of the Temple as he failed to in his last life. That perhaps the transformation bestowed on the faithful of Tzetultep at Mosi's bequest was itself a device he planned to employ in order to accomplish this. I should like to believe that, for it would mean that the Lord and the faithful of Sobrida had been betrayed by His old enemies the Radurjic faith, and not those of Tzalteclan who call themselves our friends. Yet I think that too charitable. I believe this is a heresy, the grossest of heresies, perpetrated in the home of the Lord Himself and borne of ambition that originates not in Genivanan minds but in Tzaltec hearts.

"That is my assessment, and if I am wrong the Lord Himself will soon show the falsehood of my suppositions." He raised his eyes and the spear to the heavens, and raised his voice so that it echoed around all the assembled. His eyes blazed with purpose, and his flesh with the Lord's blessing, a harsh light which spread to the spear in his hand, its end seeming to be a tip of fire pointed at the sky. "For I call upon the Lord in this the home of His faith, to raise His ire and strike down with furious vengeance the one who would pervert His will and His teachings for their own ends. I call upon Him to cast down the one who has conceived this charade; the one who has done more than any to destroy and corrupt His cause and His faithful. Lord, I call upon thee, exercise thy righteous wrath. Strike down Nezetkhamun!"

[Aedilred]

Spoiler: OOC; effects

Show

Nezetkhamun is smitten by the divine wrath of the Lord as Stuyvesant before him! Unless his divine favour is sufficient to prove his virtue in this matter!

My understanding is this is an opposed Faith roll; Nezetkhamun can use his own Faith 10. The score for the smiting is 21.

[QuintonBeck]

Ramzi's eyes grew wide as Simovyr spoke and rose his hands to the heavens...and for a moment nothing happened. The air was as still as it had ever been upon the peak of the mountain and Ramzi's lips began to turn up when suddenly a great hateful blast of fiery heat struck the ground behind him, thrown down from the heavens with a blazing fury. The robes of his office caught fire but he barely noticed as he twisted to look behind him where a fiery column engulfed Nezetkamun. The Great Dragon at first seemed merely surprised, his natural abilities granting him immunity to the mere heat of the flames but then Ramzi watched as the dragon he knew as divine began to truly burn. It started from within and Nezetkamun's head tilted back as his mouth gaped open towards the sky, a fiery orange glow peeking out from beneath his scales as he roared his scream, its sound swallowed by the roar of the divine flame. Adylla and Greta's eyes looked on, the flame reflected within them in a way that made Ramzi's heart skip a beat.

Within the column of flame Nezetkamun's scales began to burn away, revealing charred black skin beneath. The scales melted and evaporated in the heat and in a flash as quick as it had appeared the column of flame was no more, sucked back up into the sky towards the burning sun leaving only a circle of charred ground and at its center a black charcoal statue of an old man, naked and screaming skyward, arms splayed out to his side in a silent image of grotesque pain. Ramzi stared, shocked at the appearance and locked in place until the baser part of his body managed to scream the pain of his burning back through to his head and he dropped to the ground, writhing and rolling both in an attempt to quench the flames and out of sheer overwhelming pain. His screams were not silenced by a flaming column.

A few Brothers and Sisters from the Temple who had watched the affair stared on a moment more before rushing to put the flames of Ramzi's robes out, though once they were quelched they looked not to Ramzi, but up from their knees towards Simovyr. Ramzi whimpered and cried in pain, his back now visible to the gathered as a torturous landscape of burns that would never heal cleanly, if he lived at all for that too was unclear.

The silence that had preceded the flame was now succeeded by another, this one pierced however by the sounds of Ramzi's pain. All gathered, Brother, Sister, layman, and zealot looked on towards where Simovyr now stood in hushed anticipation for what was to come next.

[Aedilred]

Simovyr for a moment seemed shocked almost to silence himself, but recovered something of his poise as he realised the Brothers and Sisters were looking to him. Alfrett had fallen to his knees, the mighty warrior driven to the ground in awe and horror at seeing such a divine force strike down his own great-grandfather. Elwyn, who some said had never knelt in his life, had managed to remain upright, and yet looked somehow even more appalled, some hint of the weight of years showing on his face, which managed to appear ashen despite its colour as he looked over the spot where the great dragon - his mentor and guardian - had just stood.

"The Lord has spoken!" cried Simovyr. "The heresy is laid bare! See the power of the Lord who some this very day called dying!" He glared at Kyria as he uttered those last words. "Those who have perverted the Doctrine have been exposed and punished, but our work here is not done, Brothers and Sisters! The Temple must be restored, the doctrine re-enforced! The Avatars must be restored! And though the Temple has been saved from the enemy within, the enemy without remains! There is yet a force of darkness that threatens to engulf this point of light!"

He gestured with his spear towards the Faedans as if expecting his followers to surge forward and overwhelm them, but, though a couple of zealots, caught up in the moment, stepped forward, most were too stunned to respond immediately, and eyes turned to their true commander.

After a moment or two, Elwyn seemed to become aware of the attention upon him, and looked up, away from where Nezetkhamun had stood, first towards Simovyr, eyes hard, cold and unforgiving. Then he looked over towards where Ramzi smouldered and pointed.

"Take the former First Brother into custody, and protect the Avatars. Do not harm Ramzi further - his life is in the Lord's hands now."

As some of his men ventured forward to fulfil his orders, and form a cohort to protect Greta and Adylla, he turned again, back towards Kyria and Fydias. Where a moment ago his face had showed cold anger, now it was if he struggled to suppress his rage, eyes burning and teeth set as he snarled his challenge.

"Well then cousin, shall we finish this?" His sword rang as it seemed to leap into his hand, rose steel flashing in the sunlight.

[Reggiejam]

Kyria listened as the First Brother of the Temple and the Triad of Panshen traded verbal barbs and blows with quiet interest. The appearance of Nezetkhamun was unexpected, her having asked specifically for his absence from her lands at their last encounter and so she gave no nod of recognition towards the Eastern Dragon. They would need to discuss the delicate matter of their relationship once more when this matter was concluded. Beside her she could sense Fydias growing tense, the suspense of the standoff and sparring perhaps reminding him of his own verbal challenges in the southern court or perhaps he was simply growing eager to settle things with the Carmine Qeyzer. She didn't pretend to know the mind of her Atheling, though he was valuable and well respected by her she did not deign to claim knowledge of his mind.

Her mind had been wandering when Simovyr had moved away from Ramzi and over to converse with Elwyn. She pretended not to hear his words, though her hearing was more acute than many others owing to her blindness and listened on in an amused fashion as the Triad began to spout his condemnation of Ramzi. Surely Ramzi would be disposed of and then she might take the opportunity to encourage Simovyr's appointment as First Brother and the removal of the Carmine presence from her borders, accented perhaps with a sharp condemnation of Nezetkhamun and a highly public kick to his rear sending him back- Before she could finish the thought she heard Simovyr's final words which caused her attention to come to full devotion before she felt the air around her grow thick with heat.

Even through her blind eyes she saw the light, a thing of divine brightness that caused her to raise her hand before her veil. She took a step back, reaching out a hand to steady herself on Fydias' arm as the heat and light overwhelmed her, inciting a sickening feeling in her stomach and when it was ended she took the moment to gather herself. She could smell in the air an unkind scent. Burning, no, burnt flesh and there was something more...the presence, the burning presence she knew well as her Dragon father was gone. In its place an empty void. She felt a strange weakness. Where she had felt a sense of raw relief at the news of Wayve's death in his explosive encounter with the Thirteenth Sword she felt her knees for the first time in over a century grow weak and tremble.

She felt Fydias' hand on hers that held his arm and shook it away coldly, removing her hand from his. As she straightened the sound of the world rushed back in around her and she heard Elwyn's voice and the shimmer of steel from a sheath.

"Wait," she croaked, her voice unsteady, "Before you kill another of my family. Wait. Nezetkhamun brought his judgment on himself. A trial for his actions with judgment and verdict to be carried. If Fydias is to duel it must be in the form of Trial by Combat."

"My life for the Temple, yours for Jarrland," Fydias answered Elwyn's blade with the drawing of his own adamantine-mithril blade, a blade known by the name of Sun Quencher.

[Aedilred]

"Wait," she croaked, her voice unsteady, "Before you kill another of my family. Wait. Nezetkhamun brought his judgment on himself. A trial for his actions with judgment and verdict to be carried. If Fydias is to duel it must be in the form of Trial by Combat."

"My life for the Temple, yours for Jarrland," Fydias answered Elwyn's blade with the drawing of his own adamantine-mithril blade, a blade known by the name of Sun Quencher.

"Agreed," he said, almost without hesitation.

"Wait! Father, no!" Alfrett shook himself from his catatonia and lurched to his feet. "You cannot-"

"Do as I say, boy!" Elwyn barked, and his son stopped in his tracks, eyes wide in astonishment. "This is my decision - and should I perish here, convey that to your brother. Terms are agreed, Kyria." He paused for a moment as a growl began deep in his throat. "Do not think you are the only one grieving."

He turned his full attention to Fydias and brought Thorn up into a guard. "Time to die, traitor."

[Reggiejam]

Kyria let a breath escape as she stepped back to give the duelists room to make their bloody show. Fydias had been waiting for this moment for centuries, she knew that well, though she had not expected nor foreseen the circumstances that would precede it. She could sense the excitement and hear the rapid breathing of Simovyr as he watched the two men begin to circle in preparation for blades crossing, the religious man still high from his smiting of Nezetkamun. She could hear the paced breathing of the two men Elwyn and Fydias in front of her as they prepared for the duel and though they spoke their words were dulled to her for above all else she could only smell that charred blackness that had once been Nezetkhamun, carried through the air.

[Aedilred]

Elwyn had never met Fydias before this day, but from all he had heard, in his youth the prince had been no better than a middling swordsman. But then it was questionable whether the figure who stood before the Qeyzer now was the same as the young man who had fled the kingdom in disgrace so long ago. His great black wings loomed over the pair of them as they stood with swords raised.

"Strange, to think of it," Fydias said. "I started calling myself Atheling a few hours before Elwyr died and Eldred was crowned, when by rights the crown should have come to me. You were right then, that I claim titles that are not mine. I should be calling myself King."

Elwyn said nothing as the two of them edged back and forth, attempting to gauge the distance between them. Elwyn was surrounded by his loyal followers, the Atheling by enemies, but the silence was near-total, save for Fydias's low taunts.

"Then again, I should not be surprised to find you facing me in that case. You killed all the others ahead of you in the line of succession, didn't you?" He turned Sun-Quencher over, twirling the sword demonstratively. Elwyn kept Thorn level.

Fydias lunged suddenly, and Elwyn met him with his own blade. His initial assessment had been correct: something in the wrist and shoulder suggested that the winged man was not a natural with a blade - but he more than made up for that with strength, freakish speed and a weight of experience that made him an expert judge of his own reach.

"Aren't you going to say anything? All this time apart, all those years searching for me - surely there must be all sorts of things you want to talk about? I'm starved for news of Jarrland."

He took a two-handed grip on Sun-Quencher as he stepped back, and then he was forward again, springing into the air with the lift from his wings and descending on Elwyn from above. Had the blow landed square it might well have cleaved the elf-lord in two, broken his guard even if blocked, something Elwyn took in as he took a hurried step backwards, Thorn flying out to turn the blade aside again. Fydias's momentum carried him past the king, and he spun on the spot, in preparation for a counter-attack, but Elwyn kept his distance again, allowing his opponent to regain his feet.

"I make that three fathers you've lost now," the Atheling said, as he raised his sword and stepped forward, remaining on the balls of his feet as his wings gave him extra lift. "What's the saying? To lose one might be considered unfortunate, to lose two is carelessness. What in the world does that make you?"

"It makes me angry."

His sword lashed out faster than even Fydias could respond, the resulting block a glancing one that failed to stop the blade. Thorn lashed across the Atheling's wing, ripping feathers and tearing flesh. Blood dripped from the wound as Fydias raised his sword again, eyes wide.

"You think yourself a champion," Elwyn said, as he closed in. "You are mistaken, and you are unworthy."

Unlike his opponent, Elwyn could never have been accused of mediocrity with a blade. Half a century ago he had been acclaimed as one of the greatest swordsmen of the age. He had faced down and defeated Dunfel and Menhirin; he had forced Rove Earthguard to his knees, beaten Orion Airguard and Achille Caercia; been ambushed by three Grmanhil orcs at a time and emerged victorious. Though he had not unsheathed a weapon in anger in decades, he had lost hardly any of his sharpness and none of his speed.

"You are unworthy of the title you claim for yourself." Fydias swung, and Elwyn swatted the sword aside before lashing his own across the arm that held it. Fydias yelped in pain.

"You are unworthy of the queen whose livery you bear. You are unworthy of the name of Jarrow." Fydias tried another jab, one-handed, and Elwyn caught it at the guard. "You are unworthy of the sword you carry." He flicked out his arm, and Sun-Quencher clattered away. A cheer arose from the onlookers as they finally began to shout encouragement to their lord.

Before he could bring Thorn back into a position to strike, Fydias barrelled into him, scrabbling at his arms and wrists. An unseemly grapple ensued as they flailed at each other for a moment, then Elwyn twisted and kicked and Fydias was falling, stopped only by Elwyn's hand at his throat. The Atheling's left hand grabbed onto Elwyn's right, stopping the blade for a moment, as the vampire tried to pull the king's choking grip away with his right hand.

"Cousin," he gasped, "I know I am unworthy. Spare me, and I swear-"

"No." Elwyn spat the words through gritted teeth. "You are no cousin of mine. You are a creature of the night, a bringer of darkness - and I - defy - you."

He flared, the light bursting from his eyes, face and hands, and then from the orichalcum of his armour. Fydias screamed as the flesh around his throat seared and bubbled.

"I DEFY YOU!" Elwyn released his neck for a moment and seized his face instead, his expression unchanging as the Atheling shrieked in agony beneath his grip. Fydias clutched at his own injuries with both hands, as Elwyn took advantage of his free arm to take a step back.

For a second it seemed as if Fydias anticipated his fate, and glanced up through the pain, as Elwyn took a two-handed grip on his sword and swung, his cry one of unfathomable grief and furious rage, combined into one inarticulate howl that drowned even the clamour of his supporters. The Atheling fell to the ground in pieces.

Elwyn did not even glance at his truncated foe as his body slumped, but fell instead to his knees, eyes aloft, and howled again, even louder, Thorn falling from his fingers - and then came the answer, as first Lumisand and then Lyeth and Harmatis matched the king's cry, the roaring of dragons echoing around the valley, across the royal army, and up towards the temple and over towards the Faedas encampment.

[TheDarkDM]

As the thunder of the dragons' cry died away, there was not but silence in the valley. Then, as if in answer to their grief, the wind picked up, swirling over the encamped armies and the scene of carnage in a warm tide. Carried on the wind was a low moan, and as it reached the scene of the duel it seemed almost to speak words in a voice well remembered.

A true son...

Eyes in the crowd turned towards the burnt remains of Nezertkhamun, but there was nothing save the body of a man.

[Reggiejam]

As the King Qeyzer Elwyn felled his foe and screamed in unison with his dragons Kyria took a step back, her foot sinking into the nearest shadow as she disappeared from the encampment, swallowed whole by the shadow's meager presence atop the Blazing Mountain. Hers had been defeated, the day taken by the Lord and his Carmine servants. Kyria did not wish to see herself join her father or her brother in the growing graveyard.

She reappeared within her camp beside the Bastards, with silent direction she began to march down the road of the mountain back towards the Heartwaste and the Bastards, understanding their Queen's intention and the answer to their question as to what had happened and who had won began to organize the troops, marching them back down the mountain road. Defeated though not a blow had been issued from their rank or upon them.

In the mind of the blind Queen she saw the faces only of Nezetkhamun and Fydias surrounded by a stark blackness she recognized from her time beneath the Grove. The Mother was calling home for roost all those who had served her. Judgment day was here.