Rhiallis: Awakening

      Today’s snippet, titled “Awakening”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s new (Good) Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there are mature themes and naughty language below.
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      Awaken, Rhiallis-Ondre Corweir… awaken… awaken NOW!
      She blinked.
      And she inhaled.
      It hurt. Oh, by Iomedae’s Golden Blade, it hurt.
      Brilliant light blinded her eyes, which had seen nothing but oblivion for what seemed like a million years. Her ears were at once caressed and assaulted by a chorus of angels; their voices were magical and beautiful and so loud and triumphant that the very floor beneath her began to tremble.
      Memories were the last to return, for first came a barrage of images from history.
      Distantly, as if she were watching from the eyrie of some great falcon, Rhiallis watched the borderlands. Each of the Wardstones flashed golden light, a strobe of burning energy that ripped through demons and cultists and evil creatures as they poured out of the Worldwound.
      Suddenly – the great stones faded; their energies were spent, their protective spells dissipated. The Wardstones, last great defense of the mortal lands, were dead.
      In a flash, the scene shifted, so fast that it made her dizzy. The Hand of the Inheritor stood proud, terrible in his holy beauty, as he presided over the creation of the first Wardstone. They were at The Kite in Kenabres, Rhiallis recognized it immediately, and the powers they summoned into the making were immense.
      She wanted to stay, to see more, to witness this incredible moment in history, but no – the world whirled past her again and a heartbeat later she witnessed one of the Crusades’ worst eras. Hulrun, hero of Kenabres, was burning witches and any suspected of providing aid to cultists or the demons themselves.
      Crackling blue energy rent the scene and she was watching another important moment of history. Khorramzadeh’s first attack on the city; so many dead beneath the massive balor lord’s army. Rhiallis’ heart ached to rush forward, to heal all those wounded she could, to call Iomedae’s mercy upon the innocent souls vanquished by evil, but this was a vision only and she could do nothing.
      Irabeth chased a paladin across the dark square. It was a dwarven male in heavy armor – Rhiallis felt his name on the tip of her tongue but could not pull it forth. Both were wounded, but as the dwarf backed into the Wardstone, he began to scream. Smoke rose from his flesh as Irabeth brought her blade toward him. He ducked away, but managed to connect his hammer with her knee. Rhiallis winced in sympathy. The paladin dropped to the ground and her foe lifted that bloody hammer once more, ready to deliver a death blow. The sound of advancing boots echoed across the courtyard.
      Rhiallis watched as the scene blurred. When it was clear again, Minagho, a horribly beautiful demoness was setting a chunk of the wardstone into this very room. A priestess, Jeslyn, cast some powerful spell to create a cage around it and with a satisfied smirk, Minagho teleported away.
      The next scene was colorless, save for the lurid purple crystal – the Nahydrian crystal, she knew immediately – which a succubus was using to corrupt the fragment of wardstone. Her vision expanded and she watched the border burst into eerie mauve flames. People were twisted into half-fiend slaves.
      They wanted to get as many people as possible to the border cities, just for this purpose! Those- those- …bastards!
      “This only delays your race’s destruction,” a sickeningly sweet-yet-sharp voice said.
      I am alive… I- Rhiallis struggled to sit up, at once able to move and think and feel and see reality as it happened around her. Her eyes flashed around the scene. Only one familiar face – Kumiko, bloodstained and determined with a new blade in her hand – stood in the room. But no, that was not true, for she recognized the beautiful Lieutenant Graves, one of the few fellow Aasimar she had ever met. And there – the elf with a wizard-look about him, his countenance was one she had seen around town as well. A thin, ragged looking girl stood nearby and an elven woman in the garb of the Silver Dragon Order just behind her. Her wimple was slightly askew and she adjusted it as she stepped forward.
      “Alive…?”
      Rhiallis glanced to her immediate left and she gasped. Celeste – in much the same condition as herself, was trying in vain to move as well. What of the others? Ema and Seraphina and Mickey and Red?
      “…but I will take steps to hasten your own!”
      The succubus’ hazy image tried to cast a powerful spell, and another, yet somehow she could not breach the distance between them. She screamed in rage and cried, “Your wardstone’s magic lingers to protect you from my magic, but it will not save you from my SLAVES!”
      With a gesture, the fiendish woman sent six bablaus into their midst. From the depths of the portal, they could see even more horrific foes waiting for their chance to step through the portal. Vrocks, glabrezus, and there – in the back with more than half-a-dozen arms, a Marlilth!
      The heroes, blood-spattered and yet bolstered by the Wardstone’s fading powers, lifted their weapons and fell into battle positions.
      Rhiallis and Celeste could not quite move, though she imagined that her comrade’s courageous heart, like her own, wanted nothing more than to rise up and join the melee.
      With a tremendous crash, the portal to the Abyss slammed shut.
      The bablaus remained – for a few heartbeats at least, for like Rhiallis, who felt stronger than ever before, her allies were so engorged with holy energy that nothing could stand before them.
      When at last the demons had fallen, Rhiallis stepped away from the wall and spread her palms out, channeling a burst of healing magic. It was hardly necessary, for their wounds were healing faster than the enemy could make them, but it just felt right.
      “Damn,” she said, pushing a hand through her hair, “It feels good to be alive.”

– – – – – – – – – – –
Signed, Josie
Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me

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