Ascension in Light and Darkness
Log Info
- Title: Ascension in Light and Darkness
- Emitter: Tae
- Characters: Merek, Ashes
- Place: The Desolation
- Time: Saturday, September 05, 2020, 9:50 PM
- Summary: A strange light appears on the horizon, only a few are aware and Merek and Ashlee are among them. The two head towards it, travelling faster than humanly possible and seeing ghostly figures appear beside them, ever looking forward. They arrive on a mountain path in a terrible storm, seeing a caravan struggling to make progress. As they watch, the storm grows stronger and angrier, and lightning destroys the road in their midst. The front of the caravan panics, while the rear is blocked and in the middle a girl has fallen and is in danger of being taken by the wind. Ash rushes to save the girl, while Merek ponders the best approach to take. Some of the road remains. The girl is rescued and some road repairs are made, as Merek takes command of the front of the caravan. They are led through the storm to the top of the mountain. There, all the oruchs they have been assisting ascend into the light. On the last day of Reckonning, they are finally accepted into Vardama's embrace.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Tae 6'2" 135 Lb Half-Orc Female Female half-oruch, lean, black hair -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It the last Day of Reckoning. A sullen, full moon hangs low on the horizon. Through some trick of light it's shade grows red as the night deepens. To all who watch the sky, though, there is a strange drama unfolding which captures their attention. Like a beacon a new light has appeared in the southwest, flickering and sputtering as it grows ever brighter. Amongst the common folk, these events are always met with both fear and wonder. Amongst the learned.. well, they generally are more afraid.
As the night gets on towards eleven, the glow continues, until it almost seems to be contending with the very light of the moon. And yet there is more of an oddity. Those who are near others will soon discover that not all can see the growing light. To some, it is merely a frail, flickering candle in the distance, like as not to vanish as to burn on.
In the distance, a tower of clouds screens the stars. It comes from the south, and there's a sense one gets from it that is alarming. There is murder in those clouds. Murder and light. As if all hell were waking it comes alive with lightning. While its approach is quick, the new star is still some ways ahead of it. Perhaps it is a trick of light, perhaps it is imagination, but it seems that light flares with something like desperation. What's more, there's a whisper in the wind. It starts near Wilderness Pointe, but it continues on into the wilds.
Merek would begin to put on his black attire, from the pants to the shirt which he wears, all of cargo make with the pockets upon them. The man places a magical rod upon the hip, while he begins to make a way to investigate, having asked Ashlee to come with him, if she was free.
As it would turn out, Ashlee is one of the few who can see the light, and the Temple of Vardama told her to go check it out. Merek's invitation coincided well with that, now she doesn't have to think about where to go.
This leaves her free to think about other things, like how her last name, Ciaradh, which means 'of the time betwixt light and dark' is strangely appropriate for the circumstances. Of course, her mother-witch was named for the dawn. This is not a coincidence, but still personal.
She stares at the new star, and the desperate flickers. In monotone she says, "Well, that is a sign."
Merek looks to the light, able to notice it, while he takes a moment to look to Ashlee. "What do you make of that?" he asks, while he begins to adjust the hood of his attire onto himself. The thoughts of the man of course are his own, what might he be thinking about while he takes a moment to look at the picture he keeps drawn in his book.
The ashen Arvec inhales, drawing in the wind and seeking the scents it carries. Otherwise, she stands still. Her familiar is coiled around her neck like a choker, pretending to be jewelry. One hand has a strong grip, almost a death grip on her satchel strap. With the other, she runs her fingers through her hair. It's still thick and matted.
Her clothes are the same, as always, faded finery that has become threadbare and is on the verge of getting holey. Once colourful, it has become drab, much like a dress one buried in would do. Stains and bleaching from adventuring mar it. The seer might recognize it as her formal military uniform, in incredibly bad shape. The clothes she wore when she officially broke up.
The strange storm of light holds her attention, and the mourner muses over the religious holidays around this time, as well as the civic ones. While she knows things, her book-learning is a little light. She blinks, still gazing ahead, "What do you think it is?"
The direction that the two are nearly compelled to go leads towards the Desolation. It is clearly too great a distance to travel in one night. Or it should be. Yet as they go, strange things happen. First, there's a scent in the air. If one had to put a word to it, they might say spring, freshness, earth, or life itself. As Ashlee and Merek travel, they may, perhaps, notice others walking in the same direction. Their shapes are ghostly, shimmering in the night. Frequently they fade in and out of view, but none stays long. Perhaps it is at that moment that the most perceptive will notice the very path is glowing with a faint, silvery light, and a soft sound like bells in the wind can be heard. It is gentle, muffled, but perhaps it is growing. So slowly it changes that the wind, now starting to grow as the hateful clouds from the south race ever northward, conceals its changing volume.
"Well, it might have to do with the Ghost," Merek mentions, noting the figures while he nods a bit to Ashlee. This usually isn't the kind of thing he deals with, still all the same he walks along to find where the place is, making sure they will be fast before the storm manages to come upon the place. He takes a waterproof lantern to lift that up, offering the glowing light. "Perhaps a summoning spell to call entities to it."
Ash has been trying a new thing. Since a sewer adventure all but ruined her boots, she has been going barefoot. It means walking slower, which she's happy to do. It has also given her a strange impression of Alexandria. A gift she has allows her to know things about objects she touches, and it is not limited to her fingers. A random brush of a toe has brought much of the city's history to her in flashes.
This is nothing compared to what she feels, walking the silvered road. Each step on the path and her mind is filled with a new wonder, and she watches the ghosts appearing and vanishing.
Ash, is no stranger to ghosts either.
Quietly she asks, her voice still monotone, "Do you hear bells? Do you recognize any of those people?" Something she ponders herself, does she? T he garb the others are wearing has not been in style for a long time. Others are wearing clothing that is utterly unfamiliar. Nothing like this has been worn here in any history book or story.
"I don't recognize that style that they wear, it doesn't look like anything from the Alexandria general area," he notes, while he nods a bit to Ashlee. The man takes a look to the place, and would begin to follow along in the path of the ghosts to better ease a way to where they travel.
"These are visions of the dead." Ash states bluntly. She holds out her hand, staring at it, at the stylized tattoo of bones that cover the back, and her palms. Her familiar rotates around her neck. All his little feet tapping in a comforting way. She turns and glances behind her, "We're not dead. I don't see an astral string."
For their part, the visions of others are simply heading the same direction the light would guide Merek. There is one oddity. No matter how Merek and Ashlee move, those other beings are always out of reach. In fact, they never come closer, nor are they farther. They flicker in and out of being at what seems to be roughly fifteen to twenty feet, and always to the side, parallel to the path. On their faces are placid expressions. Ever they look forward, and never towards the living.
All at once, they arrive. Ashlee and Merek crest a rise and find themselves looking down into the Desolation. League upon league of tormented land, populated by the cast-outs and evils that could not hold their own against the more deadly dangers to the east. Here on the edge of the Desolation, something of a road winds its way up from a valley below. Somewhere behind them and to the left, the roar of a waterfall is hushed by thick woods. The rapidly moving waters are like black oil in the night, and they separate Merek and Ashlee from that tenuous tongue of climbing road.
Without warning, it is lit as if it were day, and in that time, a group of pathetic haywains and wagons can be seen. Some are drawn by animals, but no few are propelled by strudy half-oruch men who look barely able to stand. A good eye for numbers might swiftly estimate that at least one hundred people are in that procession.
- BOOOOOOM!!!!
Light flashes again and again, and the explosions of thunder roar from the sky. From the oppressive, black towers of cloud that now loom directly above, a lance of jagged light is cast down and etches the far cliff face, sending a spray of small stones and dust tumbling at the caravan below. At that moment, the wind rises. There's a horrible stench in it. It's not just the foul reek of a tainted land. There's something else there. The sweetness of fresh decay, perhaps? In moments, a cold, black rain begins to fall in stinging sheets. The storm has come. The light above has been devoured.
This moment is incredibly deadly dangerous. Even children know that tramping about on a sturdy mountain road in a storm is like as not to lead to death."
GAME: Merek casts Calm Emotions. Caster Level: 11 DC: 16
Merek looks up to the sky while he places that torch to the hip, then he draws a symbol in front of him, while he chants. The spell begins to offer a little calming to any emotions that that storm would bring for the two, as well as anyone else within the place. He then nods a bit to Ashlee, "I've not seen anything like this before, not in the same way, what do you think about it?"
"We should get down, out of this storm." Ash says, staring upwards at the black clouds, trying to see form in them, meaning. She wrinkles her nose briefly, inhaling. Again she is no stranger to scents of decay, foulness and taint. Those are the hallmarks of being a mourner and a death witch, working in the leftovers and slime of vanishing life. Plus, people keep sending her to the sewers.
The spell hits her, and she feels even less than she usually does. Her voice remains monotone, "I think we are witnessing a spiritual battle, with the fate of that caravan in the balance."
"We should get down to them," the ashen Arvec says, starting forward, and away from where the lightning struck. Her goal is the road, "Do you see a way past the water or waterfall?"
"I don't see a way from this location, we'll need to travel along if we want to make it by," Merek mentions then to Ashlee, while he takes a moment to begin looking to the storm, finding a way to back up from it a bit to get a better look at that caravan.
"Merek. You have wings." Ashlee states in flat tones, "You can teleport, and walk on water." Perhaps the last bit is metaphorical, she once believed he could. Her options are a lot more limited, unless she is a spirit and walking on water has become a thing. The ashen Arvec stares, looking about for a glimmer of the path. Perhaps it was only for the desolation destination. Any ghostly wanderers, she'd be willing to follow those too.
However, as she seeks those things she approaches the river. Perhaps there's a bridge, a safe jump, something she could manage.
GAME: Merek casts Dimension Door. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19
"You know, I actually know the spell to walk on water, but I don't have it prepared," Merek muses then to what Ashlee states. The man offers a little bit of patting to her shoulder, while he draws the woman to his side, lifting up a hand with a little motion of fingers. The two shimmer into ether while transporting along and appearing upon the other side of that river. He has picked a place into the bushes which is angled a bit close to that river, a fair bit away from the caravan and its sight, to look to it.
They appear higher on the path than the caravan, in a good vantage point.
Ashlee is patted on the shoulder. She does not react, and steps through the shimmering to the other side. She is hidden by the bushes, and blends into shadows in general. Her attention is on the caravan, she saw some of the wagons being pulled by oruch, and tries to determine if they all are. She also looks for expressions, of fear of anger.
How will they react to her? Most people are startled to something worse, and she suspects it would be the same with these. The storm whips her clothes about her, she glances skyward again. "This is no time. This will grow worse. Do you have idea thoughts on what would help?"
Merek lifts up the hand from Ashlee when that spell is complete and he no longer needs full contact, "Apologies." The man nods a bit from the hood along to the woman, thinking about it, "Well, I can work on the calming emotion until we can speak with the people that might be with the caravan."
The storm comes on swiftly. There's a powerful wave, a swell of wind that rolls out before it. It kicks up dust, even lifting small stones and blasting them at those on the road below. Another bolt comes down, this time amongst the caravan, shattering a chunk of road that lies in the very center of the struggling wanderers. For a moment, it's like they are frozen, and then fear grabs them. Those in front of the strike cower for a moment, and then one of their oxen panics and charges ahead. Soon they are all breaking and moving along as swiftly as they can, forcing their half-broken wagons and wains ahead.
Towards the rear, the caravan struggles to stop as the road is now in doubt. But stopping is not easy, and holding in place on this slope is a struggle. Footing is not the best, but for now, it is managed. A few are jostled as drivers struggle to get their few animals under control. There's a shriek and in the night, a figure is pushed in one of those jams towards the edge and falls. By divine providence the young woman survives, but she's ten feet down the road, balanced on a ledge not even wide enough for her feet.
"Ok. I'll ask them." Ash responds, then the lightning strikes. She flinches, just a little, continues to stare. "After I save her Merek, she's going to fall."
The ashen Arvec breaks cover and starts forward. She hates running. This is a moment that needs running. Her feet fly faster and faster as she pulls her Goblin Army Knife from her satchel. It has everything she might need, rope, grappling hooks. No kayak though, that's the Navy version, and no glider, that's Air. She works the levers, popping out the things and keeps her head down as the wind picks up.
Anyone looking would see a shadowy, skull-faced figure approaching swiftly, a rider of the storm.
GAME: Merek casts Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 11 DC: 19 GAME: Merek casts Wind Wall. Caster Level: 11 DC: 17 GAME: Merek casts Overland Flight. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20
Merek nods a bit to Ashlee, "As you will, I will assist." He will offer what he does best in times like these, that is to be support. Instead of fighting the storm, he works along with the wind, weaving the spells while his wings begin to shimmer from the back, then he takes a moment to walk forward, weaving the winds along while he dances.
The wind would begin to work with the storm, redirecting it rather than matching the full creation, patterns which would begin leading away from the woman upon that ledge along with the caravan people, giving space to that Arvek to work with.
It's no easy thing, racing through the panicked throng. Fortunately, the caravan is struggling so desperately to control their animals or so desperately flying, that they take little note of Ashlee. At least not at first. The presence of that wind wall even keeps her path clear, the force of it enough to drive animals closer to the safety of the cliff face.
The distance from head of the caravan to the crumbling road is perhaps one hundred paces. It takes longer in the night than one might wish, but nothing unfortunate happens on the way. Up close, Ashlee can see the damage there isn't complete. There's still enough room for one person to get past it safely. Just not the last part of the caravan. And that part is jammed tight and struggling. A half-oruch male shouts out in his tongue, "My daughter! My daughter is falling!" The young girl shouts back swiftly, "I'm here! Help me!" Whatever she may be feeling, her voice is remarkably steady.
The storm comes. If weather has emotion, this thing is angry. Lightning races from cloud to cloud, then several bolts race downward. Where Ashlee and Merek had stood but moments before, a tree explodes from top to bottom from a massive strike.
There is the panicked front of the caravan, a jammed back with no easy path back, and the girl over the edge.
Hobgoblins love their military, and growing up in Blar it's impossible to avoid service. Even for a disinterested and distant space cadet like Ashlee, she was sucked into the military machine and went through basic. Then officer training, because she was a healer. While those trying times did not form fond memories, they are there for her still, kept tucked in a box out of the way in her very regimented mind. She opens it now, so she'll know what to do.
"I will help." She calls out, loud, still with no inflection to her voice, only volume. She's looped the rope around her waist, twisted the goblin knife into it so she can use it as a belaying line. A good spot to jam in the grapple and she'll jump down. "Merek. Can you put a Wall of Force or Stone in place over the remaining road to make it a covered bridge? Then help the front."
In the midst of the growing chaos, Ashlee's voice manages to carry through the wind. Perhaps it's just the power of her projection, perhaps it's enhanced by a bit of good timing, as there's a respite from the wind that lasts just long enough. The frantic father turns to see the arvek coming. In the flash of lighting, she presents quite an alarming visage. For a moment, he's afraid some creature of the darkness has come, but something in him recognizes help when he sees it. He pushes his way carefully through and when he realizes that a stubborn ox is in his way, he ducks down to crawl under it and emerge on the other side. Where he stands, one can peer over the edge and see the girl below. He gestures, "Right here!"
One more additional asset: One hulking half-oruch father who is probably so fired-up on adrenaline he could throw an ox.
Needed: Something flat to restore the road. Logs won't do, they aren't super flat, they are rather round. It will take some time, to chop the tree into logs and somehow secure them.
Sitrep: The front of the caravan is in a full panic, racing up the road. The rain is coming down hard, as well. This is a very dangerous situation and running blind in it is madness.
"Cross one at a time on the edge of the road. The first take a rope, the others use it as a safety line." Ash instructs, she moves to where the father is, eyes seeking a good spot to jam the grapple. She takes out her holy symbol, it's a small set of scales, indicating her allegiance to Vardama. "Be ready to pull us up."
Her grip tightens on her holy symbol and her belaying pin. She jumps. If the oruch girl can survive the fall, so can she. "Feiu of the Tears, I'm not ready yet." She whispers a prayer, calling on the power of her goddess to fill her with healing energy when she hits.
The father nods curtly to Ashlee. He's ready. Now that he has a clear view of where his daughter is, he works on solving another of the issues. "You heard the woman! Leave this behind! Save lives, not our meagre possessions!" To make a point, he casts one of his oxen over the side, easing at least part of the jam in the proces. Any who might have been about to protest falls silent with that demonstration. A female half-oruch follows his lead and makes her way over the path. She cries ahead in a clear voice, "Stop racing, you fools!! You'll never make it like that!" But the wind blows her words away. The front of the caravan remains out of control, in a complete panic.
The seer is focused on the task of fixing the road. Trees might be an option, a wagon to fill the gap
Sitrep: The front of the caravan racing ahead. In the night, in a storm, pouring rain on a crappy road. In short, they are going to die. The mourner and the half-oruch father are working to save his daughter, and the back of the caravan is starting to slowly move past.
The most urgent issue right now is People rushing the road. They could be stopped by force. They have to be stopped somehow. There's barely time to breathe.
Merek would have been examining that road which Ashlee mentioned, perhaps looking for the best way to manage it. He then nods a bit, but if he wishes to fix it, he will need to make time, he decides of the only way to do it, being to slow the caravan. He walks up to the front and speaks with a calming voice, shifting a hand to calm emotions along the front, "If you would please, if you panic in the storm, you're going to find your road which is forward needs to be repaired, please find a way to manage the caravan until then!" he calls.
GAME: Merek rolls diplomacy: (14)+26: 40
While it may seem absurd to expect a normal person to just move into a panicked crowd and ask them to stop and succeed, well, Merek isn't exactly a normal person. He's a glowing, angelic beacon of calm and certainty right now. The refugees slow, first, and then come to a stop, blinking in confusion. One of them even looks back and mutters, "Hells.. that was.. that was stupid.. we're damn lucky nobody fell!" He's an old timer, judging from the slight grizzle on his face and the stoop in his back. "Uh, thanks uhh.. mister," he manages, looking embarassed. The calm is contagious and even with the storm screaming bloody murder and rain and wind coming on, the front half of the caravan appears to have come to its senses.
Ashlee's timely arrival and healing are a boon to a child who appears to be.. perhaps nine or ten years old, now that she's close at hand. Despite her age, she's learned to master her fear. There's no trembling, no shriek of terror. She cannot move to make more room for Ashlee. She cannot actually tell how much ledge is there below her. She does know the cuts and bruises are gone, and she feels better prepared to face whatever might be required next. Hopefully not a swim.
"Hold me." Ashlee orders in monotone, reaching for the girl. With her skull face and her empty voice, she might seem like death has come to claim her. Death is rarely so soft and careful though, as she wraps her arms around the girl and loops her into the line she's wearing. She cinches the rope with the Goblin Army Knife, useful in all situations. This will help her with the weight, Ash isn't a strong girl.
"Pull us up." She faces upwards and calls to the father.
"Okay," replies the girl. She sounds more than calm now. She almost sounds.. bored? Her grip on Ashlee is strong, but not so much that she's going to knock the wind of the arvek. Her father, however, is not nearly so placid. He puts all his strength into pullin them up. They shoot up like a cork from a bottle. At the top, another pair of half-oruch are ready to pull them safely away from the cliff's edge. Somewhere down below, there is a loud moo. "Well look at that," says one of the other men. "Damn thing hasn't even the brains to die properly, now does it?" he muses aloud.
Additional assets: 50 half-oruchs to command here.
Sitrep: This road is an immediate danger and they must get to the top. The whole road may wash away and an avalanche is possible as well.
Merek would nod a bit, "Wait," he states, then he takes to flying towards one of the trees on the hill, beginning to use the corrosive touch of his to begin melting through the base, then he directs that fall, before then beginning to roll that log along until it will be where that road needing fixing looks to be. The man nods a bit, beginning to shape the wood, "Would you all kinda assist me in repairing? We need to get to the top before it's all washed away."
Sitrep: The oruchs probably can't build a road fix that's amazing, but they can manage it. Their wagons, however, suck. They are rickety, slow, awful. There is a high confidence that this road could be made safer for people, it is highly unlikely the vehicles will make it. Regardless of that, a wider path of any kind will help save lives, provided they focus on making it person-ready and don't try to make it wagon-ready. This terrain screams unstable, ready to mudslide or avalanche soon.
Answering Merek's call are five oruchs. They are not nearly as healthy as the father down below, but their half-starved frames are devoted to their people, and if they die cutting and mending a road that saves their kin, they will be happy. They set to work swiftly and skillfully, but the conditions are slowing them down. It's also clear to Merek that the wagons they have are simply too slow. Even were the road mended now their pace would be inadequate. There's a timer one with his knowledge can sense in their mind, and it's ticking ominously away. While Merek grasps all these things, he can also see that the oruchs are trying to move past one at a time, but there are some among them that are simply exhausted. Starved, old, sick. The path that is there now will never suffice.
Sitrep: They are already leaving their stuff behind, as the one oruch ordered. But they need more help. Cause the path, such as it is, doesn't allow them to assist each other across to any great degree. Those oruchs cutting wood need proper direction as to what their repair should be like.
Ashlee feels herself flying up, then landing, the girl is safe. The distant moo far below is saddening, but her military commanders emphasized, triage. Focus on who can be saved. It's not always the best, not everyone can be saved. Her training said abandon the girl, focus on the groups, but then the mourner was never good at listening. Still, she has a monotone comment to the others, "The cow will have to save herself."
Next she looks around, assessing the situation. Her military experience was always strong on manpower and weak on magicpower. What can these people do, what is the best use of their talents, what is the best strategy.
And sometimes, there are no perfect answers, but a swift decision is better than none, and something better than nothing. She calls out, "Make a small stretch of planks, three feet wide, ten feet long. Use ropes for railing. Until it's in place, strong carry the weak. Move careful. Move fast. Let me through."
She'll get to where she can direct, use some of her healing to help, and otherwise sort the line so it moves faster. Still no emotion, "Abandon the stuff."
"Alright, I need you all to work like that," Merek mentions, taking a moment to draw a design into the mud with what looks like magical sigils. That's the best way to make it noticable, either way he calls to the caravan, "We can't take the wagons, I'll bring you all food when we escape the storm," he mentions, then he begins working with that path forward.
With Merek directing the carpenters and Ashlee guiding the others, there is a kind of dance going on around the current failing in the road. First, planks come across, providing a way. It's shaky, but functional. From the other side, the carpenters use the logs to reinforce the planks, sliding them under, securing them. With each log, the planks are sturdier. The work is fast. They are used to having less than ideal situations and can carry out Merek's simple design with a few tweaks to cooperate, rather than replace, what their peers are working on.
Both sides are working together. People are moving across more quickly now.
The ashen Arvec does her best directing, trying to match people who need help with people who can help. As the temporary repair becomes more sturdy the flow of people increases. She taps a couple of the stronger looking oruchs, telling them, "Wait on the other side, I'll call a break for you to come back over."
She looks to see what happened to the father and daughter. Hopefully he's gotten to safety, if not she'll think of something for him to do, and the other two men with him.
While she has some healing magic, it's not a lot and it won't do much for starvation. A few direct heals, a few channels, she'll use them on any injuries she finds.
She calls across the gap, "Merek, get out in front and make sure it is safe for them to keep moving. Everyone, keep moving, this area is unstable and will collaspse soon."
Merek nods a bit then to Ashlee, while he takes a moment to call to folk, "Alright, follow me!" He then would begin assisting in the guiding along the path. He makes sure which places are safe, then checks what needs doing, with that path built it's a need to keep people safe when traveling.
Most people, in a disaster, fail to spend a second or two to think and just follow someone else. To their doom.
A ways above there is a safe way to get off the road and onto steadier land. Onto a long path towards Wilderness Pointe and beyond it, the city itself.
Ash stays back, making sure the oruchs get across the bridge. She calls a few halts, so her strong helpers have a chance to file back and assist the elderly and infirm. She does this a couple times. It gets them across, but they're still slow.
She has a dubious idea, and calls back her strong helpers one more time. "Find the smallest cart. Empty it. Turn it on it's side and roll it across on two wheels."
She supervises, if it's even possible she'll be on the other side, waiting. She has a horse, a pale one, standing beside her freshly summoned. A riding horse, it will be able to pull a small cart with help. She hooks him up.
"Help me get the elderly in, then we all push. We have to move." Ashlee will drive the rear of the caravan as quickly as she can, loading the slowest into this emergency option. It only needs to last to the top of the rise.
Merek would begin a leading people from the front to the top, then he smiles to the people, "I will bring you all things to eat when it's safer," he mentions, taking a moment to motion people along the path, then he would begin to eventually make a way to the top of the place, nodding a bit to folk, "I will stay with you and also assist in anyway that you all need."
With effort and care, the refugees arrive at the top. Not even one is left behind or lost on the way. As they gather, there are embraces and words of joy and relief. In the heavens, the terror of the storm fades. There is no natural explanation for its sudden ending. It simply breaks and gives way. The stars can be seen, and that strange light is there.
That radiance is steady now and it floods the area around the oruchs in its gentle light. The father of the fallen girl turns to Merek and smiles, "We've made it at last," he says. "We have reached the top." His child lifts a hand to wipe away a tear of joy. Her voice, though, is a deadpan mimic of the arvek, "Your help was most appreciated. At last our journey can end. Thank you! You know now what you have delivered us from."
The father puts an arm around his daughter's shoulders, hugging her. He guides her to turn and walk with him. As a mass, all the oruchs move with that pair. A few steps along, and the confident woman from earlier settles in at the other side of the child. Her daughter. It is then that it becomes clear that the light isn't simply coming from above. It is coming from the oruchs themselves!
They are light moving into darkness, and one by one, as they move away, they fade. They fade and then are gone. Last of all, the child looks back, smiling and waving over her shoulder until she, too, is gone. For a moment, there is a deep silence, and then the wind rises gently, and everywhere in it there is a sweet smell of living things, and in the absence of the lights from above and below, a vast group of fireflies begin to dance, their soft lights all that lights the area now.
Ashlee stares and listens, absorbing what is said. Her holy symbol is in hand, and she holds it a little tighter. She watches as they move into the darkness, hand raised, waving at the small child. Her voice is quiet, she gives her scales a little shake, 'tink', "Feiu of the Tears, accept them into your embrace."
Even her prayers are minimal and to the point.
She stares long after they have vanished. Inhaling deeply of the sweet scents, and the solace of the deep silence. She watches the fireflies as they dance, then touches one of the piercings on her face. A firefly would make a good decoration. Yes.
Merek watches while listening to the people, and nods a bit. "Take care," he offers, with a little wave. Then when all of them travel on, he pulls up the hood of his, looking to the place in thought a little. He seems to watch the horizon along the skies.
Ashlee watches Merek, as he pulls up his hood. She understands. The scales of Vardama find their place in her satchel, and her familiar gives her a many-footed massage, squeezing around her neck. She glances at the horizon, then the road. Her bare feet tell her where she is.
"Come on Mer-mer," she says, her voice soft. She takes a step, starts walking, "Let's go home."
