username: deimar

[jatharin]

( On this occasion, King Deimar in silvered splendor: tussled, armour scratched and drenched in blood and soot, surrounded each way by his men or Rathakku's creatures. He screams, just as harpies swing in: )

Fall back — fall back, fall back — ( An infantryman politely keels over, arrow driving through his ribs. Deimar stops to stare — ) ...maybe with less enthusiasm than that.

( But then, he's led to take cover off the field, and he can mutter into his pendant: )

Greetings, greetings. Your king speaks. Deimar. ( As if, perhaps, some need the reminder. ) Let's cut through pretence: Alem is lost. The merchants are offering their... obscenely costly help with evacuation. If we had any alternative or dignity, we would decline. It won't surprise you that I've agreed, gratefully. Go to Hassir. Yes, it's a monastery old and true. No, you cannot bring your wine.

( And gentler, firmer: ) It will have you. All of you who go, Hassir will have you, and it will save you. Make a new life, away from this mountain. Away from our blood's burden, away from Hell.

( Then lighter, in this breezy tone: )

...which, I regret to inform you, is opening nice, creaky and wide beneath our floorboard. You've heard the old stories: the Motherless Children beget their devastation, bolstered by whatever souls they consume in their putrid wasteland. They're breaking through. Terrible creatures. Filthy. Ugly, too.

To all men and women of Alem who are strong, gifted and able: I won't tell you to take up your weapons and join me below in glory. If you die there, no one will mourn you, no one will weep over your bones. No one will even remember you. No, they'll live peacefully, happily and oblivious to your sacrifice. But they'll live.

So. You have your choices: Hassir or Hell below. What say you?

( ooc: brainstorming post if you want to ICly figure out where characters are headed. Hell officially starts to open on March 18, but feel free to forward-date responses & threadjack at will. Good luck saving humanity! )

Comments

[westviews]

Essentially.

[It feels a little familiar, this need to stop a force beyond them all, but she's not keen on sacrificing herself again. Self-sacrifice is becoming more and more of a joke.]

Hell now, or hell later. Those are our options.

[saintclaire]

Later. [Obviously.] I'm leaving with the caravans to Hassir. Are you staying to try to figure something out?

[westviews]

Staying, I think. I hate waiting.

[Maybe she can do something, but at this point, it's looking grim.]

[saintclaire]

Be careful. If it doesn't look good–– [They're all fucked. Kim pauses. Pep talks are normally for a whole different kind of person, but this situation seems to call for it, anyway.] Just take care of yourself, alright? Maybe we can at least regroup.

[westviews]

[It turns out that Wanda isn't a fan of pep talks, especially when aimed at her. She understands the sentiment, but it just makes it all feel so much more bleak.]

I will. You, too. It'd be nice if we could find a way through this. Some of you have come so far.

[Shame for them to all die now.]

[saintclaire]

[Jesus, that’s grim. There’s an unexpected humour on her voice:]

Some of us, yeah. Drinks after this is over, pretend we never had this conversation?

[westviews]

Agreed.

Wherever that might be.