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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 2, 2020 17:33:36 GMT
Ceutinde can safeguard the dreams and still the seething inner demons of any who are afflicted by illness or hex. She cannot defend herself. Two days before the Odyssey reaches Bastion she feels it returning, the visit of Lord Somnus and his nightmare retinue.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 2, 2020 17:45:20 GMT
The wounded always streamed in from the east by the dozen. A parade of broken men and women kept the healers of the various charitable orders busy constantly. Most have cuts and bruises and broken bones. Others have corrupted wounds poisoned by the strange black magic employed by the greater of the abominations plaguing Thessali. The worst, of course, are those whose minds crack under the strain of the most insidious of the Mist’s evils.
When Lilomeon had come back that last time Ceutinde had known something was wrong. Twenty five or more years had done nothing to ease the memory of the sight of him striding back into their home, the massive warrior with nicked armor and acid-rusted blades sitting down heavily. He had been different in posture and personality and everything important, eyes as hollow as dried gourds. He seldom had drank but he had an entire bottle of thick beer he had drained in three giant gulps. He may have noticed she was there, but it’s entirely possible he had not. She couldn’t much remember now, some parts could be forgotten if one really tried to forget.
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Post by Ceutinde on Sept 2, 2020 18:19:52 GMT
Why did it always have to be this dream? Never when they were courting, never their wedding, never when they first moved to Bastion. Always this. Always that broken thing that used to be him. Always nothing she could do.
"Let's get that armor off." She told him, knowing none of it would matter. "You can't be comfortable. Then a bath. I got some candles from down the street, they're supposed to be soothing."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 2, 2020 18:47:53 GMT
Lilomeon blinked and then nodded, some measure of light coming back into his eyes. “My flower!” He said, as though she had just arrived. “Yes, yes, a bath, right. Miriwin is bringing, uh,” he thought a second while recalling, “roasted pheasant. Yes, and plums. I do love plums. Such a delicious feast.” He raised a finger. “Ah! And a present!” He rummaged through his bags and pulled out a large bottle. “It was laid down when we were born fifty two years ago. The vintner said it would be ready for your eightieth birthday.” He handed it to her. He would have these times, times where energy would burn through his veins. It never lasted, not since whatever had last happened had broken his mind.
She was fairly sure her birthday was the last time he had been him. He had taken a bath and invited her in and hours later they had talked by firelight. “Leuwinmorgh and I found something,” he said as the embers faded away. “That last big one. Something I hadn’t expected to see in all my years.” The human-made divan creaked under his weight. “But how has it been? Have the sponsors sent you approval for your project?”
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Post by Ceutinde on Sept 2, 2020 20:26:23 GMT
"Some. Enough to begin looking for somewhere to set up shop." She answered, staring into the dull glow of the embers, her head in his lap. Hoping that this time, the moment could last. "It won't be so grand as I'd hoped. At least not right away. I have a list of properties to look at; I thought we could go together. Before you go back." She reached a hand up and ran her thumb along his jawline. "If you go back."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 2, 2020 20:41:18 GMT
“Not for a long time,” he grunted. “Hard to want to leave now. The Mist is always...so cold,” he mused. “Not like this. And Leuwinmorgh and I argued. He found a human,” he grunted. “A baby of all damn things. In the middle of some compound in the remains of...” he couldn’t finish it. “I don’t know. I’ll just stay and help you set up. Much...much easier on the mind. My dreams get worse every time I see the damned places.”
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Post by Ceutinde on Sept 25, 2020 16:05:04 GMT
She smiled, though she knew 'a long time' tended not to last nearly as long as it should. For a long moment she stayed silent, before rolling slightly to look up at him with a quizzical look. "Did you say a baby? What's he doing with it?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 25, 2020 16:21:29 GMT
He let out a breath. “Letting the missus raise it, looks like. You know he doesn’t know much about humans. Something about that place...it didn’t sit quite right.” He was silent for a long moment. “I think I’ll stay in the land of the living this time,” he had said then. “Every time I go there I can feel a piece of myself falling apart. And it’s gotten too hard to put it back together the way it was.”
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