[ More than legend (lore of old is so often twisted, skewed by each and every generation as it passes hands), Sion believes in a curse powerful enough to disfigure men into saurian monstrosities, for in another realm, a world far away from this wretched vault filled with the stink of ancient death and echoing cries of agony, he himself had condoned such a terrible magic—he had used it to raise soldiers none too dissimilar from the being he cuts down now (and the Hero King's strike is as ruthless as it is merciful, as baleful as it is benevolent), silencing the lizardman's roiling shriek before it could swell loud enough to sound alarm. The creature falls a corpse at Sion's feet, licked by flame, its flesh blistering, peeling back and blackening from the heat, and it is with a (sorrowful, knowing, condemning) calm that he looks upon the accursed thing, reading the book of its burning body, golden eyes narrowing before...
He turns aside, cutting the air with Guiding Light to rid it of the blood which might come to congeal in its artful filigree.
(It is the most they can do, to grant a quick, clean death to these beasts.) ]
Onward, then. [ Sion is decisive, with both Shinn and Tieria now sufficiently armed (however much their new weaponry carries with it the too-pungent scent of reptiles mired in a crypt), ever-steadfast in his will to progress forward. ] And though I do not doubt in our ability to triumph over even mightier foes...
[ This feels like an omen, doesn't it? ]
My hope is with your own, Shinn.
[ The passageway ahead bleeds into a cavern which seems a series of catacombs threading into the temple's foundations, or so the Hero King comes to find as he walks on, surveying the vast opening as a scout before beckoning the rest of the party to follow. It is entirely devoid of color, save for the green which creeps in on the achromatic rubble of the of the ground as though it were trying to bless the great tragedy of Salamanca with the smallest blades of grass, and it is here that light creeps in from somewhere above, along with—
—the fluttering of wings, and a too familiar sight: a trio of carriers, descended from a stairwell obscured by age-old debris, come to reclaim their masters.
Perhaps their luck is not to be spoiled, after all. ]
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He turns aside, cutting the air with Guiding Light to rid it of the blood which might come to congeal in its artful filigree.
(It is the most they can do, to grant a quick, clean death to these beasts.) ]
Onward, then. [ Sion is decisive, with both Shinn and Tieria now sufficiently armed (however much their new weaponry carries with it the too-pungent scent of reptiles mired in a crypt), ever-steadfast in his will to progress forward. ] And though I do not doubt in our ability to triumph over even mightier foes...
[ This feels like an omen, doesn't it? ]
My hope is with your own, Shinn.
[ The passageway ahead bleeds into a cavern which seems a series of catacombs threading into the temple's foundations, or so the Hero King comes to find as he walks on, surveying the vast opening as a scout before beckoning the rest of the party to follow. It is entirely devoid of color, save for the green which creeps in on the achromatic rubble of the of the ground as though it were trying to bless the great tragedy of Salamanca with the smallest blades of grass, and it is here that light creeps in from somewhere above, along with—
—the fluttering of wings, and a too familiar sight: a trio of carriers, descended from a stairwell obscured by age-old debris, come to reclaim their masters.
Perhaps their luck is not to be spoiled, after all. ]