[youtube]ul6AePnTOno[/youtube]
When had things gone so wrong?
Had it been when Tray'ju died at the hands of that thief?
Had it been when the cult's assets had been seized and ripped apart like carrion?
Had it been the actions of the void hunter, Hojo?
Had it been the works of the witch hunter Atoneaus Dexrinoiux and his fanatics?
Was this the shadow of things moved by Tengri?
Was it the collapse of the cult their savior had worked so hard to create due to political in-fighting?
Honestly, at this point, the elderly female cultist didn't care. Things had snowballed to this terrible moment somehow. She was just hoping she could somehow survive the coming tide that seemed intent on consuming her.
A pistol's report shook her back to the present. The smell of burning flesh and spilled blood filled the air. She glanced back over her shoulder and fixed her burning mansion with her onyx black eyes. Like a pyre, her home, and all her works and books of forbidden magics, burned in the name of the Twelve. Figures and forms danced around the base of the inferno, cutting one another down with blade and spell.
"Stop her!" shouted a voice. Several dark shapes began to surge towards her, cutting their way through her once tenderly attended rose garden. Hissing at the barbarism on display, the miqo'te elder spun on her heel and resumed her race down the dock as quickly as her aged form would allow.Â
There, at the pier's end was her salvation: a small boat, no more then twelve feet long, sat moored. It looked so innocent, as if it was somehow oblivious to the madness of mortals that was occurring all around it.
The female kept running, her right hand pressed to her side as crimson blood ran down her dark dress. Pain filled her as whatever foul toxin she had sensed enter her body worked it's dark power. She only hoped she would have the power to save herself once she was free.
She could hear footsteps gaining on her and she dared not look back.
Not here. Not like this. Not after everything she had endured in this life. And all the one's before. It could not end here. She was all that endured. The cult was gone, it's members and leaders all dead save her. All that remained of the great purpose she was meant to carry out. She had found, at long last, the secret left behind by the Crow. She knew where he had hidden it now.Â
Her eyes glanced up as she reached the boat and threw herself into it. The ocean rolled gently in the evening breeze. Stars shone over head as the sky darkened to deep shades of violet.
Out there, across the sea, in distant lands, was hidden the key to completing the Crow's final goal.Â
She had just untied the vessel and raised the sail, when a sinister shadow fell over her. She turned to look up at a gargantuan figure glaring down at her with eyes like shinning coals.
"Yourrr corrrrrruption ends herrrre, witch." The great titan of a Keeper held an axe in his hands, and a wild glint was blazing in his eyes. Â
The female cultist tried to conjure up a wind, to push the boat away, but it seemed so fruitless. There was the void hunter, starring her down the wrath of the Twelve made flesh. And behind his bulk charged even more hunters, all eager to spill her blood and end her mission.
Despair, a feeling she had hoped to never to feel again, filled her and she sunk to her knees in a gesture of defeat.
"I failed."Â she wept bitterly, hanging her head.
But, in that moment, when her hope had faded, her fortunes, at long last, shifted.
A loud set of shouts filled the air. And the female raised her head just in time to see Hojo thrown by some force into the air and go splashing into the ocean, well clear of the boat. Eyes wide in surprise, the cultist leader whirled to see a small, blonde figure cackling wildly as dark energies billowed around him in all directions as he struck out against the witch hunters.
"It can't be...I-" her shock faded and she seized upon her chance. She could worry later about why Crate, of all people, had come to her aid. She conjured up what remaining aether was available to her and summoned up a wind. Directing the gusts into the sail, she felt the breeze tugging at her air as the ship lurched forward. Her despair and fear became a laugh of disbelief. Soon she was shooting out towards the open ocean. She glanced back at the chaos of her beach front home.
She still couldn't believe it was all gone. In a way, she was numb. It had all happened so fast, she couldn't fully comprehend the meaning at the time. And now, in hindsight, it seemed like a bad dream. Or a story about someone else.
"Pity, I actually -did- enjoy your dreary place." came a chuckle.Â
The female turned to see a section of black fog solidify into the blond haired, grinning face of Crate. He was lounging against a sack and his arms were folded in his lap.
"I-" the female started, disbelief filling her features.
"Let me cut you off there, bag-of-bones." Crate giggled. "I couldn't let you die, ya know. Not after you found it."
"You knew?!" the female blinked in shock, collapsing onto the deck as the poison coursed through her veins. She suddenly felt like she was on fire and she shivered.
"Oh yes." Crate mused, lifting a hand to inspect his pedicure. He frowned, seeing a chipped nail. "Son of a-, but, to the topic, I have friends in all sorts of places, my dear." The blond fixed the pale female with his icy, blue eyes.Â
She saw his face become a wide, Cheshire grin as her vision became foggy and her world began to spin.
"And you and I are about to become the best of friends, Jin."Â Crate threw his head back and cackled as Jin collapsed face first into a heap as she sunk into the darkness of unconsciousness.
When had things gone so wrong?
Had it been when Tray'ju died at the hands of that thief?
Had it been when the cult's assets had been seized and ripped apart like carrion?
Had it been the actions of the void hunter, Hojo?
Had it been the works of the witch hunter Atoneaus Dexrinoiux and his fanatics?
Was this the shadow of things moved by Tengri?
Was it the collapse of the cult their savior had worked so hard to create due to political in-fighting?
Honestly, at this point, the elderly female cultist didn't care. Things had snowballed to this terrible moment somehow. She was just hoping she could somehow survive the coming tide that seemed intent on consuming her.
A pistol's report shook her back to the present. The smell of burning flesh and spilled blood filled the air. She glanced back over her shoulder and fixed her burning mansion with her onyx black eyes. Like a pyre, her home, and all her works and books of forbidden magics, burned in the name of the Twelve. Figures and forms danced around the base of the inferno, cutting one another down with blade and spell.
"Stop her!" shouted a voice. Several dark shapes began to surge towards her, cutting their way through her once tenderly attended rose garden. Hissing at the barbarism on display, the miqo'te elder spun on her heel and resumed her race down the dock as quickly as her aged form would allow.Â
There, at the pier's end was her salvation: a small boat, no more then twelve feet long, sat moored. It looked so innocent, as if it was somehow oblivious to the madness of mortals that was occurring all around it.
The female kept running, her right hand pressed to her side as crimson blood ran down her dark dress. Pain filled her as whatever foul toxin she had sensed enter her body worked it's dark power. She only hoped she would have the power to save herself once she was free.
She could hear footsteps gaining on her and she dared not look back.
Not here. Not like this. Not after everything she had endured in this life. And all the one's before. It could not end here. She was all that endured. The cult was gone, it's members and leaders all dead save her. All that remained of the great purpose she was meant to carry out. She had found, at long last, the secret left behind by the Crow. She knew where he had hidden it now.Â
Her eyes glanced up as she reached the boat and threw herself into it. The ocean rolled gently in the evening breeze. Stars shone over head as the sky darkened to deep shades of violet.
Out there, across the sea, in distant lands, was hidden the key to completing the Crow's final goal.Â
She had just untied the vessel and raised the sail, when a sinister shadow fell over her. She turned to look up at a gargantuan figure glaring down at her with eyes like shinning coals.
"Yourrr corrrrrruption ends herrrre, witch." The great titan of a Keeper held an axe in his hands, and a wild glint was blazing in his eyes. Â
The female cultist tried to conjure up a wind, to push the boat away, but it seemed so fruitless. There was the void hunter, starring her down the wrath of the Twelve made flesh. And behind his bulk charged even more hunters, all eager to spill her blood and end her mission.
Despair, a feeling she had hoped to never to feel again, filled her and she sunk to her knees in a gesture of defeat.
"I failed."Â she wept bitterly, hanging her head.
But, in that moment, when her hope had faded, her fortunes, at long last, shifted.
A loud set of shouts filled the air. And the female raised her head just in time to see Hojo thrown by some force into the air and go splashing into the ocean, well clear of the boat. Eyes wide in surprise, the cultist leader whirled to see a small, blonde figure cackling wildly as dark energies billowed around him in all directions as he struck out against the witch hunters.
"It can't be...I-" her shock faded and she seized upon her chance. She could worry later about why Crate, of all people, had come to her aid. She conjured up what remaining aether was available to her and summoned up a wind. Directing the gusts into the sail, she felt the breeze tugging at her air as the ship lurched forward. Her despair and fear became a laugh of disbelief. Soon she was shooting out towards the open ocean. She glanced back at the chaos of her beach front home.
She still couldn't believe it was all gone. In a way, she was numb. It had all happened so fast, she couldn't fully comprehend the meaning at the time. And now, in hindsight, it seemed like a bad dream. Or a story about someone else.
"Pity, I actually -did- enjoy your dreary place." came a chuckle.Â
The female turned to see a section of black fog solidify into the blond haired, grinning face of Crate. He was lounging against a sack and his arms were folded in his lap.
"I-" the female started, disbelief filling her features.
"Let me cut you off there, bag-of-bones." Crate giggled. "I couldn't let you die, ya know. Not after you found it."
"You knew?!" the female blinked in shock, collapsing onto the deck as the poison coursed through her veins. She suddenly felt like she was on fire and she shivered.
"Oh yes." Crate mused, lifting a hand to inspect his pedicure. He frowned, seeing a chipped nail. "Son of a-, but, to the topic, I have friends in all sorts of places, my dear." The blond fixed the pale female with his icy, blue eyes.Â
She saw his face become a wide, Cheshire grin as her vision became foggy and her world began to spin.
"And you and I are about to become the best of friends, Jin."Â Crate threw his head back and cackled as Jin collapsed face first into a heap as she sunk into the darkness of unconsciousness.
