Post by ✝pyrⓐmid✝ on Dec 9, 2013 11:44:17 GMT
Name: Rasheeka
Race: Human(?)
Class: Omnipotent Conjurer and Illusionist
Age: Unknown
Rebellion or High End: Undecided
An unsettling silence befell the residents of Jodok.
A putrid scent filled the air as the pit was unearthed by the villagers.
The rot had set into their lithe, little bodies much quicker than it should have. They were decomposing at a substantial rate.
They were part of her sacrifice.
The eve before, an eerie lull had beset the small township. Children willingly departed from the land of dreams to venture into the surrounding marshlands.
They had been summoned. Something called to them. All their parents were undisturbed, heavy in sleep.
Pitter patter, their little feet carried them to their own demise at the hand of that witch. That repulsive and vile sorceress.
Three figures stood before the pit which would serve as the collective grave for the children. Two hulking swamp beasts stood either side of the witch. The children formed two lines, one in front of each swamp golem.
The witch chanted, entranced by her own energy and magic. Calling upon ancient Gods of power and majesty, imploring them to hear her plea. She fell to her knees as she felt their presence.
Her head burrowed down into her chest. She fell silent, as if it were the cue for the unholy swamp horrors to begin the slaughter, picking the the children and cracking their bones, or ripping off their heads.
It was all thrown into the pit, as if waste to a garbage heap.
Once all the sacrifices had been made, the golems melted into puddles of mud. "I have served you well!" bellowed the witch, as she fell into slumber.
She was bestowed with a gift.
The village was in an uproar. Mothers wept, fathers took up arms, simpletons beseech the Gods for justice. The villagers cursed the witch's name, and purged the town of anything reminiscent of her.
Needless to say, the witch disappeared without a trace.
However, she won't ever be forgotten. She was immortalized, forever a fable; a scary story told to unruly children that didn't clear the table or go to sleep when they were told to.
Nearly 700 years have past since that day.
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The news of an uprising rebellion on Chadver has reached as far north as the wasteland Iavero. An ambassador has been sent to make a peace with the two factions; a desert priestess of high regard on her continent.