Boethiah
Dark Messiah
Imperial Palace, Ravelin, Bastion.
Within the deep halls, hidden behind thick walls, is a sanctuary for the Primeval. As zealous as they were, many had doubts and uncertainties, thus it was the purpose of this sanctuary to allow healing and tranquility so that all persons can find comfort in their beliefs. Anja mediated in front of a faceless statue representing Sargon, elsewhere within the room were three other statues depicting the remaining deities of the Primeval.
The woman lowered her head, "I believe in Sargon, the Tongueless Speaker. The one who separates shadows from darkness. I believe in Nogras, first of Sargon, the Starmaker. The light from which all other light was made. I believe in Balagoth, second of Sargon, the Dead One. In his shadow, that which is corruptible shall be reclaimed. I believe in Halrormalenth, Third of Sargon, the Broken Creator. His voice is the evidence of things seen and unseen. I believe in the Primeval, the Host Lord, and the words of the Prophet. I wait for the Reclamation, when the stars shall give up their dead and all things will be remade." Her prayers were spoken in a soft, low voice that sounded little more than loud whisper.
After she had finished speaking, Anja opened her eyes and looked up to the faceless visage, seeing in its empty gaze only herself and the tasks set forth for her to accomplish. So much to do, so little time to do it. This Host had been the greatest ever seen, and Anja would be remembered as their most successful Host Lord. However; would that be enough? Would they achieve what they've set out to do?
[member="Orkamaat"] | The Primeval
Within the deep halls, hidden behind thick walls, is a sanctuary for the Primeval. As zealous as they were, many had doubts and uncertainties, thus it was the purpose of this sanctuary to allow healing and tranquility so that all persons can find comfort in their beliefs. Anja mediated in front of a faceless statue representing Sargon, elsewhere within the room were three other statues depicting the remaining deities of the Primeval.
The woman lowered her head, "I believe in Sargon, the Tongueless Speaker. The one who separates shadows from darkness. I believe in Nogras, first of Sargon, the Starmaker. The light from which all other light was made. I believe in Balagoth, second of Sargon, the Dead One. In his shadow, that which is corruptible shall be reclaimed. I believe in Halrormalenth, Third of Sargon, the Broken Creator. His voice is the evidence of things seen and unseen. I believe in the Primeval, the Host Lord, and the words of the Prophet. I wait for the Reclamation, when the stars shall give up their dead and all things will be remade." Her prayers were spoken in a soft, low voice that sounded little more than loud whisper.
After she had finished speaking, Anja opened her eyes and looked up to the faceless visage, seeing in its empty gaze only herself and the tasks set forth for her to accomplish. So much to do, so little time to do it. This Host had been the greatest ever seen, and Anja would be remembered as their most successful Host Lord. However; would that be enough? Would they achieve what they've set out to do?
[member="Orkamaat"] | The Primeval