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

[somebadnews]

[ They're all in the same boat here. They don't have to trust each other to fight for their lives, and his expectations are reasonably low. ]

Take your time. [ Then, belatedly — ] Let me know when you're at the entrance.

[dog_eat_dog]

Oh good, I was hoping there was extra time to dawdle.

[But she'll be there, looking calm and collected –– the poker face version of it, anyway –– armed with little more than a handgun. You know, like you do.]

Two minutes out.

[somebadnews]

[ Five doesn't know why he's being polite and waiting for her, but he's in a weird headspace right now what with the apocalypse of it all. He'll appear after a few minutes, a disheveled teenager that will look far too critical of whatever firepower she's carrying. ]

Congratulations, you beat the army.

[dog_eat_dog]

Like that's hard?

[That's off the cuff –– easy, given her vocation –– but her expression is more than a little skeptical. He really is a kid.]

Tough deal, apocalypse number three before you finish puberty.

[somebadnews]

[ Exactly what he needed rubbed in his face right now. He smiles like this hasn't been a soul-crushing development at all. ]

Well, they always say those are challenging years. [ Especially for him when he really was this age, but at least he can say it gives a unique perspective. One that helps him recognize something about the way she carries herself. ]

Didn't get your name.

[dog_eat_dog]

[She shrugs, a practiced ease with the circumstances. It doesn't quite chase off the fear around the situation, but it keeps her steady.]

Tess. You?

[somebadnews]

[ The shrug is noted with a raised eyebrow, but he doesn't linger on it. This isn't the time. ]

Number Five. [ He takes a breath and rolls his shoulders. ] Do you feel like storming down the gates, or can we skip all that and jump right in?