Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Aug 26, 2015 13:40:52 GMT -5
Killion begins cursing uncontrollably as he stared out into the grey sea where the Seer had escaped, before bellowing in incomprehensible rage into the heavens, not sure whether to curse the Storm God or something else. The slog over the last month had clearly taken their toll, the continued escape of their enemy's leadership, first the Collector and now the Seer further making the reclamation seem hollow. There was no winning here, no victory, only loss.
He made his way to Nagga's bones, the holiest of their sites, profaned now by rituals and blood shed with no gain. No Iron Price had been paid here, the debt only continuing to grow. The prince inspected the area, trying to discern what the enemy was doing here. What were any of them doing here? He briefly entertained the thought of boarding his ship and sailing as far east as the winds would take him.
(There were still 2,600 on the boats. How is it possible that I only have 2,450 left? Or did you just mean the ground forces remaining? In which case it's 5,050 remaining.)
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 26, 2015 14:42:06 GMT -5
just on the ground. Clearly you didn't lose more men than you ever even had available.
Killion isn't a magic expert, but between the beast's bones is a giant pond of blood seeping into the beach. It never means anything good, seeing lakes of blood. Not even once.
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Aug 26, 2015 16:38:54 GMT -5
(Just checking. Wasn't sure if they hit the ships somehow.)
"Burn the bodies and dispose of...whatever this is." he ordered, tone hollow and voice hoarse from yelling. He did not think he could feel worse.
...then Harwyn's messenger arrived
There was a long seemingly eternal silence, the prince staring into the grey sea, before turning back to his men. He smiled, a sharkish smile without mirth or mercy, eyes brimming with tears of rage and loss. He felt fourteen again, once more forced against his will to watch as the life he cherished was cruelly taken from him.
He went to the shore without a word, collecting driftwood in silence, some pieces swollen with blood rather than seawater. Then he fashioned his crown as tradition demanded, a fitting one to sit his brow, tainted by loss and the blood of his people.
"Find a living Drowned Man." he intoned, taking his place below Nagga's ribs, breathing the smell of the burning corpses as he stood beside a literal pond of Ironborn blood. "Lets make this quick."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 26, 2015 19:33:19 GMT -5
A priest arrives. Darl Salt-Blood approaches and now. "Your Grace," he said. "The Drifteood Throne accepts you." He leads him to the waters for his initiationz
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Aug 26, 2015 19:34:22 GMT -5
Killion follows him, resisting the urge to cough "Seastone Chair" beneath his breath.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 26, 2015 20:51:59 GMT -5
The ceremony is short, no one in a celebratory mood. He is dunked and crowned in under ten minutes. "There is much to be done, Your Grace," the priest said. "But His blessing is upon you and yours."
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Aug 26, 2015 20:55:10 GMT -5
"You will forgive me if the last thing I feel at the moment is blessed." he replied acidly, making for the ships. "We sail for Great Wyk. Still four more islands to secure by my count."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 26, 2015 20:59:00 GMT -5
The fleet begins assembling to leave.
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