Heavy laughter filled the halls of the assembly building. A light hearted jab back and forth what it may have seemed to the crowd of blurred faces above was all but too real. Venomous, silver tongued threats and insults. Comedic relief fit the bill to satiate the tense air in the room. Topic after topic was covered before all were sent on their way home, back to their respective business and day.
The teal scaled creature stomped down the halls of conversing assembly goers after the diet. His gaze narrowed down the back of a ginger haired knight flanked by two well dressed noblemen as they took the far corner of the hall. He bellowed a haughty breath and continued on his way out the door. His hands formed fists, claws threatening to puncture the palms of his scaled hands.
It was no matter for him to worry as he wandered the main streets back to his estate within the city. A lively nook within a finer part of the city where many of his Allar following congregated around him, the neighborhood was a mirror of that to home. Fine glass panes of multicoloured wonder sparkled from the sconced fires within the dwellings. A group of children kicked a ball through a hoop at the corner of one of the houses but froze as the giant came into view then scattered.
He saw only ghosts afterwards. Flashing images of dead bodies amidst burning fires and blood soaked beaches. The haunting images of war flashed, and each time that they did he staggered and held his head. Starving people pulling apart supply lines to a city fortified. Starvation wasn't new to him.
A couple of stewards to his lordship approached with news and letters, work to be done. They snapped him out of his moment, but he waved them away as they insisted he be checked out. He got away from them pushing open the large wooden doors to his rainbow hall, aptly named for its mosaic designs dotting the floors and ceiling. At the far end of the empty stands was his throne. Merely a replica of the one back home on Moonglow Isle, it just wasn't the same.
He fell into it with a loud huff, images pressed upon his anxiety. He began to dwell on the Dais of Faith and how he lost his composure. Was the lack of food getting to his senses? Or is it guilt. His tail coiled around the throne as he tensed up. He glanced up to nothing in particular, but thought only of the fog. Imagining it's all consuming nature approach, what had been described to him by a qadir as tendrils of souls grasping for him. He was lost in his day-nightmare. A misery.
He fingered at the Cro-Allar skull hanging at his hip, silent and long dead.
Death seemed more appealing then being put into a suspended state of nothingness, unable to be reborn, lost in a realm of incomparable limits. Awake but… not awake.
The details were gnawing at him. The numbers, the faces of those he recognized which wished to come along for the final mission. Amidst all of it though anger began to swell inside of his chest.
He spoke allowed, this wasn't just some internal monologue. He held the skull up to face him now. Looking to it for an answer, listening patiently.
He could see across the hall a golden eyed beast of a man approach, the Cro-Allar rest the skull in his lap and sat back fully in his throne. The fog dispersed around the figure that he had imagined, splitting it in twain. His breath steadied out evenly and he shook off the dread.
The teal scaled creature stomped down the halls of conversing assembly goers after the diet. His gaze narrowed down the back of a ginger haired knight flanked by two well dressed noblemen as they took the far corner of the hall. He bellowed a haughty breath and continued on his way out the door. His hands formed fists, claws threatening to puncture the palms of his scaled hands.
It was no matter for him to worry as he wandered the main streets back to his estate within the city. A lively nook within a finer part of the city where many of his Allar following congregated around him, the neighborhood was a mirror of that to home. Fine glass panes of multicoloured wonder sparkled from the sconced fires within the dwellings. A group of children kicked a ball through a hoop at the corner of one of the houses but froze as the giant came into view then scattered.
He saw only ghosts afterwards. Flashing images of dead bodies amidst burning fires and blood soaked beaches. The haunting images of war flashed, and each time that they did he staggered and held his head. Starving people pulling apart supply lines to a city fortified. Starvation wasn't new to him.
A couple of stewards to his lordship approached with news and letters, work to be done. They snapped him out of his moment, but he waved them away as they insisted he be checked out. He got away from them pushing open the large wooden doors to his rainbow hall, aptly named for its mosaic designs dotting the floors and ceiling. At the far end of the empty stands was his throne. Merely a replica of the one back home on Moonglow Isle, it just wasn't the same.
He fell into it with a loud huff, images pressed upon his anxiety. He began to dwell on the Dais of Faith and how he lost his composure. Was the lack of food getting to his senses? Or is it guilt. His tail coiled around the throne as he tensed up. He glanced up to nothing in particular, but thought only of the fog. Imagining it's all consuming nature approach, what had been described to him by a qadir as tendrils of souls grasping for him. He was lost in his day-nightmare. A misery.
"How can I lead people into something I fear? How long must I put up with this humiliation."
He fingered at the Cro-Allar skull hanging at his hip, silent and long dead.
Death seemed more appealing then being put into a suspended state of nothingness, unable to be reborn, lost in a realm of incomparable limits. Awake but… not awake.
The details were gnawing at him. The numbers, the faces of those he recognized which wished to come along for the final mission. Amidst all of it though anger began to swell inside of his chest.
"Why should I do this - after all of that… They should be the ones trying to save the Empire they call their own. Why was I spared if only to continue to exist in a state of unwant. All I've done means nothing - even if I succeed now… would it matter?"
He spoke allowed, this wasn't just some internal monologue. He held the skull up to face him now. Looking to it for an answer, listening patiently.
"Fine.. fine. It was rather pointless anyways. I'm not one to hold a grudge - not for something like that. I'll do what I must - to save the world. I'll push on."
He could see across the hall a golden eyed beast of a man approach, the Cro-Allar rest the skull in his lap and sat back fully in his throne. The fog dispersed around the figure that he had imagined, splitting it in twain. His breath steadied out evenly and he shook off the dread.
"Thank you." Cro-Zzhin spoke out loud to him.
