I'd been holding this one for some time! It's a three part thing, but I'll post the first one only. Berrod's experience!
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SpoilerThere had been sunsets when The Red Hammer enjoyed seeing the sky bathed in crimson; moments of repose and reflection that marked the close of a well-spent day. The sky as it was then could only be called the cruelest of mockeries regarding that very thing. From the northwest the red glow of Dalamud spread, reaching all the way south until it dissipated to the black, starless sky. In a manner of speaking, it was a sunset. The last sunset this part of the world would see. In that light, it held a tragic, terrifying beauty.
The Red Hammer held no illusions or false hopes about what was to come. The red globe sagged heavily, releasing firey spittle upon the lands below -- some of which landed less than a malm from where his small encampment stood. It looked brittle, as if about to burst into thousands of tiny, harmless pieces and end moons of terror. He knew this was not so. He knew that when it landed, the destruction would wipe out nigh everything that had ever once been Thanalan -- and more.Â
He knew as well that there was battle under the red abscess; a battle that many of his own men had gone to fight for the sake of those who couldn't. He had intended to fight as well. The destructive abilities of an Ala Mhigan monk were nothing to be trifled with upon the battlefield. Yet, in a rare coup his followers had demanded that he remain with the camp -- remain and give their families hope, and protect them in the unlikely event that the moon's fall did not amount to absolute obliteration. A few had remained with him -- a pair of thaumaturges, two gladiators, a monk under his own tutelage and an odd one who had studied the ways of nature and conjury. Rubbish magic, he thought, but anything that could possibly help was needed.
An echoing peal of thunder cracked across the desert -- no, not thunder. Just another of that blasted moon's death groans. There had been many in the past few hours, punctuated by the distant booms of the debris that fell from it. This one, unlike the one before, unsettled the small group that had assembled to do their final duty. Everyone knew, the time was nigh.
With a deep breath, The Red Hammer steeled himself to begin the end. "Are the families properly tucked away?" The question was addressed to anyone who would answer. The one who did, he had not the focus to identify.
"Aye, Hammer. They're as safe as we could make 'em, huddled in the tents nice and tight. It's up to us to give 'em a chance, at least."
There was no chance.
"Alright then. Erect your wards, and pay them attention! If they fall, each of you knows what must be done." The words were spoken with stern inflection to those around him. There were no questions, only actions. Truncheons and a staff swept in strange motions, and soon, a glimmering translucence surrounded the small camp. Their last hope. Flimsy in the face of the glowing red doom.
"Remember!" He roared. "Remember the reason our brothers and sisters are fighting! Remember the reason why we are protecting their loved ones! Remember the reason why we are not running! We are Ala Mhigan! Once were we driven from our homes, once we chose not to fight, and we were forced to look back in regret for the rest of our days. Not today! Today we stand in the face of earth, sky and fire to fight, to protect to the last! When we face Rhalgr in the hereafter, we will sing his praises and he will favor us! Steel your hearts! Do what must be done! Death is our final foe, and we will make it suffer for this victory!"
The din of voices that rose in assent came not only from the paltry defending group, but back from the tents as well. His voice had carried. The power of the fifth had made it so. Their spirits had raised.Â
Yet, it was not enough to push up the moon's fall. Another low rumble sounded, and a chorus of voices followed the pointing of fingers. Something had happened to the crimson sphere -- something had -fallen- from it. The impact shook the ground even where they stood.Â
It had begun. And soon, it would end.
The Red Hammer held no illusions or false hopes about what was to come. The red globe sagged heavily, releasing firey spittle upon the lands below -- some of which landed less than a malm from where his small encampment stood. It looked brittle, as if about to burst into thousands of tiny, harmless pieces and end moons of terror. He knew this was not so. He knew that when it landed, the destruction would wipe out nigh everything that had ever once been Thanalan -- and more.Â
He knew as well that there was battle under the red abscess; a battle that many of his own men had gone to fight for the sake of those who couldn't. He had intended to fight as well. The destructive abilities of an Ala Mhigan monk were nothing to be trifled with upon the battlefield. Yet, in a rare coup his followers had demanded that he remain with the camp -- remain and give their families hope, and protect them in the unlikely event that the moon's fall did not amount to absolute obliteration. A few had remained with him -- a pair of thaumaturges, two gladiators, a monk under his own tutelage and an odd one who had studied the ways of nature and conjury. Rubbish magic, he thought, but anything that could possibly help was needed.
An echoing peal of thunder cracked across the desert -- no, not thunder. Just another of that blasted moon's death groans. There had been many in the past few hours, punctuated by the distant booms of the debris that fell from it. This one, unlike the one before, unsettled the small group that had assembled to do their final duty. Everyone knew, the time was nigh.
With a deep breath, The Red Hammer steeled himself to begin the end. "Are the families properly tucked away?" The question was addressed to anyone who would answer. The one who did, he had not the focus to identify.
"Aye, Hammer. They're as safe as we could make 'em, huddled in the tents nice and tight. It's up to us to give 'em a chance, at least."
There was no chance.
"Alright then. Erect your wards, and pay them attention! If they fall, each of you knows what must be done." The words were spoken with stern inflection to those around him. There were no questions, only actions. Truncheons and a staff swept in strange motions, and soon, a glimmering translucence surrounded the small camp. Their last hope. Flimsy in the face of the glowing red doom.
"Remember!" He roared. "Remember the reason our brothers and sisters are fighting! Remember the reason why we are protecting their loved ones! Remember the reason why we are not running! We are Ala Mhigan! Once were we driven from our homes, once we chose not to fight, and we were forced to look back in regret for the rest of our days. Not today! Today we stand in the face of earth, sky and fire to fight, to protect to the last! When we face Rhalgr in the hereafter, we will sing his praises and he will favor us! Steel your hearts! Do what must be done! Death is our final foe, and we will make it suffer for this victory!"
The din of voices that rose in assent came not only from the paltry defending group, but back from the tents as well. His voice had carried. The power of the fifth had made it so. Their spirits had raised.Â
Yet, it was not enough to push up the moon's fall. Another low rumble sounded, and a chorus of voices followed the pointing of fingers. Something had happened to the crimson sphere -- something had -fallen- from it. The impact shook the ground even where they stood.Â
It had begun. And soon, it would end.