Raem
14-12-2005, 04:52
Rath stares out at the star-sprinkled void beyond the thick pane of the Razor's Kiss' viewport. Thought seems as distant as the tiny lights sparkling in the cold. His breath mists in the air of the bridge and fire burns in his veins.
Yes... yes, yes. It is time. There is a sting as he slowly pulls the needle from his flesh. It feels like a spear transfixing him to his basalt throne. Too long now have I clung to a corpse and a memory. There is no passion left in the cold embrace. Still, much had happened. It was not an easy choice. His family had died in pursuit of the ideas of this cold embrace.
Yet there were new opportunities. Rath smiles. His lips are blue with the chill. "Withdraw my warriors. Send out the message. All hands make for Commorragh."
---
Within days, vellum letters are delivered embassies in key nations of Arda: Sauron, Melkor, and Kalessin. Each bears a short inscription in faded reddish brown ink, carefully penned once in the common tongue of Arda and also in translations of other major languages used in the region.
No more does the Kabal of Death's Fist bow before He Who Arises in Might. No more will our warriors come to the banners raised by His followers. We are our own people once more.
Already have we begun leaving you. Singly and in twos, in the night, bearing away our technology and our knowledge with us. We hold no malice for you, no ill feelings. One cannot hate a corpse.
That is what Arda is. The alliance is cast down. Your crown is broken.
Rath
Yes... yes, yes. It is time. There is a sting as he slowly pulls the needle from his flesh. It feels like a spear transfixing him to his basalt throne. Too long now have I clung to a corpse and a memory. There is no passion left in the cold embrace. Still, much had happened. It was not an easy choice. His family had died in pursuit of the ideas of this cold embrace.
Yet there were new opportunities. Rath smiles. His lips are blue with the chill. "Withdraw my warriors. Send out the message. All hands make for Commorragh."
---
Within days, vellum letters are delivered embassies in key nations of Arda: Sauron, Melkor, and Kalessin. Each bears a short inscription in faded reddish brown ink, carefully penned once in the common tongue of Arda and also in translations of other major languages used in the region.
No more does the Kabal of Death's Fist bow before He Who Arises in Might. No more will our warriors come to the banners raised by His followers. We are our own people once more.
Already have we begun leaving you. Singly and in twos, in the night, bearing away our technology and our knowledge with us. We hold no malice for you, no ill feelings. One cannot hate a corpse.
That is what Arda is. The alliance is cast down. Your crown is broken.
Rath