1632
« on: September 27, 2017, 06:49:27 pm »
Well, hello everyone, I am not dead, and I feel like writing something.
Quill stood over the water pit, animals in their pens behind him. His lord had been dirtied by the dark god Armok, it had taken him longer than he would have liked to help Omer's priest, but it was Quill's job to change that. He stood over the pit, and brushed his hands through it. His eyes glowed green and the red collected in his palm. When he pulled his hand out, clear water stared back at him, and an orb of dirty red liquid floated there, its metallic scented strengthened by it's purity. The green glow weakened as one of his eye's shifted color, turning from green to grey, and the liquid began to sizzle. White vapor drifted from it, eventually, all that was left was a ball of crimson crust, one that swiftly burnt away as the magic increased the heat. He let the ashes drift to the ground, and he walked away, towards his next location, the medical ward.
Quill walked over to the patient he had come to see. A young man who was the high priest of the god of light, Lord Lemonpie. "Hello high priest, I have come to pay my respects," Quill stated, his voice reverent, but monotone. The high priest craned his neck and smiled upon seeing the solemn child, "and who might you be my boy?" "I am the loyal servant of the deep, Quill Arcane, at your service," was his response, his voice keeping it's tone. The high priest looked surprised "You mean to tell me you serve Afer?" he questioned. "Yes high priest," Quill responded, "my lord wishes to apologies for not responding to your prayer sooner, he was weakened by the curse of Armok, but he is getting better." "That is pleasant to hear," responded the high priest, "tell your lord I bear no ill will towards him, and accept his apology wholeheartedly." "To copy your statement, high priest, that is pleasant to hear," said Quill, a smile breaking out on his normally solemn face, "now I must take my leave, I have another duty to attend to, but I wish you well, and I will see you again soon." "I'll be happy to see you then," responded the high priest with a smile.
Quill walked over to the lava, it boiled and spit angrily. Pitcher in hand, he stepped over to it, Afer shielding him from the heat, and poured the pitcher. A hiss escaped into the air, but not like the angry his of Armok's ichor boiling, but a calm and happy sound, like a sigh of content. "Your husband says hello," he said to Masea, lady of the lava, "he misses you and wishes you well, and will be happy to stand beside you again when the battle for Necrothreat arrives. The lava cooled, a message from Masea, showing she had heard him. He stepped away, his duty accomplished for the day. While opposites attracted, so did likes, so while blue magic rose from the throne, so did it rise from the depths. As Highmax gained power, so too would Afer. The elements that were there adversaries had shown their faces, Death, Blood, and Bone. Others may rise, but those were the ones they knew, and those were the ones they were ready to face. Machines would face Death, Water would face Blood, and Light would face Bone. Gods would fight Gods, and the fate of Necrothreat would be decided.
