TheImmortalDeity
the greatest mule
[DM]
As Aerline left the castle's interior, he was met by the sight of a long, metallic drawbridge that connected Nuvok Castle, which was settled on the peak of a precarious cliff, to the main road in Lapas Ghûl. The two places were separated by a large chasm, where nothing but bottomless depths were seen as far as the eye allowed. Two enormous chains were on either side of the bridge, used as pulleys, along with an overarching pipe that settled directly over the double doors to the castle. It had a crank attached to it that, when used, the chains wrapped around the pipe. The crank had a brutish Ettin that manned it; a two-headed giant-like creature that, to Aerline's understanding, were idiotic underlings that hardly thought for themselves, priding in their muscles rather than their brains, of which they had two, ironically enough. As he went to pass, one of the Ettin's heads gave him a snort while the other continued to survey the pathway of the bridge.This sort of derisive response wasn't unusual for the merfolk hybrid. As the consort of Duchess Varenza, an influential figure that was also admired by the populace as a whole, it was commonplace for some to be envious of his position. And so, as he moved, the nagging reminder of a pair of eyes watching him sullied his tranquil endeavor towards town. He hadn't gone far, however, as the trek across the drawbridge always took a few minutes to cross, before a deep grumble echoed from the abyss under his feet. Then, as the clouds above began to meld, the thunderous boom of lightning had struck directly behind Nuvok Castle.
Aerline, from his position, wasn't able to see the initial impact. He was able to feel it. The surge of electricity flowed past his body, and for a moment, he had felt his nervous system temporarily give way. Even as he quickly regained his composure, there was no way for the fish man to brace himself for what came next. From behind the castle, a monument that had taken the shape of a blue fist sprouted, dislodging chunks of rocks that were flung into the air from the speed of its emergence. Dust billowed from its base and swept over the nearby area without remorse. In moments, Aerline began to suffocate.
As his chest filled with sediment, the choking realization of a quick and meek death washed over him. Only hopelessness was found when faced with this unyielding destructive force, its mere movement enough to end the lives of the critters that attempted to exist around it. And yet, as his end neared, an occult experience flooded his senses. It wasn't as gentle as Duchess Varenza's, which was typically filled with care and affection, but instead, it was powered by a calculating sense of detail. An assured hold as it bent reality to its will. Soon enough, Aerline felt the pressure on his lungs lift as the earthy residue was forcefully dispelled from his body and his airways were cleaned of any and all things that had prohibited its usual function.
The area around him, once obscured by the remains of the Hand of Vienna's wake, had all been swept into the sky. Off to his side, Aerline saw that the Ettin from earlier was now dead. It appeared the creature had been too close to the initial shock to be saved, even by the powerful arcane entity that had rescued him. In the sky above, Varenza had taken shape in the sky as an illusion that took up its entirety, looking the same as she always had to him, if not a bit happier in general. It was after the speech that things had taken a turn for the worst.
Due to his close proximity, Aerline saw that the hand was not only blue but resembled the galaxy as a whole with various stars and spacial bodies that sifted and moved erratically along its skin. The longer he looked, the deeper his mind became entranced. It was as if the fleshy monolith beckoned for his attention, yet denied him access to any insight all at the same time. He was not a creation of Vienna. He did not belong. He did not deserve her love.
Then, the divine ichor began to pour from its nails. The Messengers, as Varenza had called them before, began to seep out from the black blood, screeching and crying as life was made before Aerline's very eyes. They swept over the land with determination, and as a few caught a glimpse of him, they began to pursue the fish man. Whether he ran or not, they eventually caught up with him, harboring speeds well beyond what a blob of sludge should have been allowed.
The one that spoke had an eerily dulcet tone, much like a mother did when teaching their child a lesson.
"Aquaerline Ceto, you have been drafted into servitude under the Nuvok Army. Go to the Amphitheater of Anguish for further instruction." The wisp then left, leaving Aerline to do as they wished.
Lo Mayn