Post by Natalia Brynmad on Oct 7, 2005 12:08:54 GMT -5
Bellator sat on the cold stone floor of his basement writing in his journal. He knew the hallucinations grew worse, and he might lose himself to them completely. He thought perhaps someone would find his journal, someone that could help him. Thinking back, he wondered how long it would take for someone to even know he was gone. Bellator had few friends in this land. His patron was rarely around, and he had never really got along with Natalia. And the bandit – he would just as soon take this as an opportunity to rob him. But his thoughts were cut short. The voice began to speak to him again, and his vision dimmed.
[glow=red,2,300]“Our guards run feral on the lands they were sworn to protect. We created them, So We must destroy them.”[/glow]
[glow=red,2,300]“His presence in our lands grows. Slay His followers.”[/glow]
[glow=red,2,300]“Our temples fall into disarray. Maintain our altars. Continue the Ritus.”[/glow]
[glow=red,2,300]“Our guards run feral on the lands they were sworn to protect. We created them, So We must destroy them.”[/glow]
[glow=red,2,300]“His presence in our lands grows. Slay His followers.”[/glow]
[glow=red,2,300]“Our temples fall into disarray. Maintain our altars. Continue the Ritus.”[/glow]