Topic: Survivor

Sorandra

Date: 2012-04-15 18:33 EST
The heavy rain beat down on her head and shoulders as she wandered down the stone cobbled road. Up ahead in the dark shadows of the storm, she began to make out the shadows of the spires of Rhy'Din City. So, she had finally arrived. It was about time, as the slaughter she survived and left behind was now months past. Someone would need to tell their story and she was the only one to do it.

The images flashed before Sorandra's eyes of her sisters lying in pools of their own blood while she continued fighting valiantly against the Bhaal-worshiping berserkers of the Hirgaad tribe. They had overrun the temple of Scathach that had stood in the southern plains of the Rhy'Din Empire for centuries in just a matter of hours. The fields had been filled with the Hirgaad's number; there had been no hope to hold them back.

In the end, she had escaped, hopefully killing ten of the barbarians for every one sister of Scathach that they had in turn killed. Her furs and leathers were still to this day caked in their blood. Sure it smelled, but it was a constant reminder, a reminder of why she was making this journey. The Hirgaad were searching for something, a relic, but the temple she had spent most of her life in had had no relics in its vaults, only the wisdom of Scathach herself.

This meant that this hunt that Bhaal had sent the barbarian tribe out on was not yet over. The Bhaalites were looking for something and the rest of the Scathachian faith needed to know this. She would be the messenger to tell them. Hopefully she wasn't already too late.

Eventually she passed through the gates of Rhy'Din, eyeing the the partially awake guards with a penetrating stare. They did not take their duty seriously, didn't even make a motion to step forward and question her business within the city. That was a bad sign for the security and safety of this legendary capital.

Sorandra grunted and proceeded her way through the rain-soaked streets. It took her a while to realize that she had no idea where in this large city that the Scathachian Sanctuary was so she eventually resigned herself to asking directions at one of the pubs. She had gotten a few looks, and even a couple whistles and catcalls, but one singular glower quickly silenced them all. Then she was on her way.

Eventually, after getting her bearings in the storm, she was able to find the northern-west-most sector of the city and the cobbled street that led to the Sanctuary itself. She allowed herself a shortlived smile that was quickly replaced with a grimace when she remembered what news she bore.

Steadily, she walked forward through the Sanctuary's outer gates and to its inner gates. Vaguely, through the rain, she saw a few sisters on patrol on the walls and knew that they saw her as well. Beginning to feel the fatigue of her travels, she grasped the large knocker on the gate doors and slammed it as hard as she could manage"which was pretty hard"and it created a loud noise that would echo through all the hallways within.

Then, she waited.

Delphinea

Date: 2012-05-05 19:33 EST
It was just a fraction of a moment before the thundering knock was heard echoing through the great hallway of the Sanctuary that Phin was alerted to the presence of a visitor. Through a relayed signal from the two Scathachians on guard (a practice that had recently been initiated due to the amplified activity of the Bhaalites), the blonde behemoth had started toward the inner gates with the intent on receiving the stranger.

As Phin's thick thighs brushed against each other within the leather casings of her soft armor, she canted her head. The visitor was a woman and a Scathachian. Beneath the matted fur and animal skin that clothed her body, the unmistakable crimson sash stood out for all the world to see. As Phin reached the gate and drew the heavy iron scrolled door back, her emerald eyes scrutinized the woman before her. Even concealed by layers of dust and dried blood coated clothing, Phin recognized the light behind the tapered gaze of this woman.

Breath caught in her throat just before it was released into the air. This was the only bright spot of the Bhaalite insurgence: the gathering of familiar faces was enough to make this corrupted city seem like home, if only for a moment.

Sorandra was not one who was easily mistaken. If not recognized by her chosen garb, aside from her Scathachian trinkets, her stature and stance made an obvious statement as to her uncanny gumption and salient disposition. What was more, Sorandra's stare was something that every one of her initiation group learned to both revere and fear. The austere gaze of this Scathachian had turned criminals into apologetic messes, and had preceded the gutting of trembling enemies.

Phin's heavy arm was raised and landed with a marked tenderness upon the strong shoulder of Soranda as the blonde's usual severe expression softened. "T" t' f"ilte mh"r anseo, Deirfi"r," came the polished Scathachian tongue from her mouth. "Most welcome, indeed." Phin smiled to her Sister as she squeezed her shoulder and soon enfolded her into a hug. It had indeed been a long time. No doubt Sorandra would have tales of her own to tell, as did Phin and the rest of the Scathachian Order gathered in this dwelling. There would be time for all of their words, over a meal. A hot bath would be drawn and a fresh bed made up; homecomings were always a celebrated occasion. Now more than ever.

Sorandra

Date: 2012-05-06 18:43 EST
It would have been impossible to not recognize Delphinea; her sheer size and muscular physique were unlikely to be forgotten. Sorandra had admired the dedication of this woman to build up her strength and was proud to have her as a fellow Scathachian Sister. It had been a long, long time though since she had last seen her.

She would have smiled at that strong, welcoming hand placed on her shoulder with the subsequent embrace in better times, but now was not such a time. Her face remained grim; she had escaped a slaughter and traveled long and far to deliver the grave news. She merely returned the hug and then gave Delphinea a strong, measured gaze of respect and importance, silently indicating that she had a truly grim tale to tell.

"I only wish it was under better circumstances," she said with that stone-chiseled expression.

As she stepped across the threshold into the welcoming confines of the Sanctuary, she sensed a slight tenseness in the air following her words. Was it possible that evil was already making itself known in this area despite the remaining display of safety and security that projected from this stronghold" It would not be a difficult stretch to imagine after what she had already endured.

"Which sister leads here presently?" she asked suddenly. "I will need to inform her of the great tragedies that I have left behind many moons ago."

Issy

Date: 2012-05-10 18:20 EST
Delphinea led Sorandra down the left hallway from the foyer. She knew where Isuelt had last been, going through reports from The Watch and other paperwork, and she doubted that Isuelt would be finished yet.

Through her fingers, Isuelt saw Phin enter the common room. She was reclining in a chair, indeed still with a few papers before her, her face cradled by her hand. As the second figure came into view, she sat up, letting her attention waiver from the reports before her to the two impressive women standing in the doorway from the hall.

As her chocolate gaze glossed over the stranger with Phin, she was immediately recognizable. At least, the sash at her waist was. Isuelt's form sprung into action as she stood and moved away from her chair, crossing to the two women. "Phin..." A nod was given to her Sister as Isuelt kept her eyes on the woman with her, who looked vaguely familiar. Isuelt extended her hand to the woman, noting everything about her that let her station precede her name. "F"ilte Deirfi"r de Scathach. I am Illea. Isuelt DeRomiano." She welcomed the woman and offered her Scathachian name before her birth name.

Isuelt was impressed, as she knew she would be, with Sorandra's stature and grip. It was more than clear that she was polished warrior and a Judge to be reckoned with.

Sorandra

Date: 2012-05-11 16:36 EST
Sorandra took Isuelt's hand in hers and shook it firmly, her grip practically vice-like. She studied the woman carefully, recognizing the responsibility that she dedicated herself to weighting the day's load on her shoulders. This was a woman that took her duty seriously, and Sorandra liked that. She was certain that she had seen this Sister once before, but it had only been in passing; she had a good memory for faces.

"I am Sorandra; Silda Vorkoth," she introduced herself in return before releasing Isuelt's hand. "I'm afraid I'm a bearer of bad news."

She saw the hints of concern build up in the other woman's face and she only gave a small hint of a nod to assure her that she had not misheard. Sorandra maintained her steel composure as she collected her thoughts to bring together the memories of the story she needed to tell. While it still wounded her inside, outside she remained as emotionless as stone. Nevertheless, if one looked closely, they could see the blazing inferno burning within her eyes.

"The temple of Scathach in the Southern Rhy'Din plains, my homeland, has fallen. I am its only survivor, and even only by narrow fortune." She shifted the leather bodice she wore, first exposing a breast and then the months old healed scar underneath it from the wound that she herself had sewn back together. Then she repositioned her leather garment to continue her story"the stitches on the leather itself were now more readily apparent, becoming a continuous reminder of the scar underneath. "Had that been any deeper, I might not be here today.

"Nevertheless, the temple was always on good terms with the surrounding tribes, and as you may be aware many of the Sisters there'such as myself"originated from said tribes. All save one; the vile Hirgaad who were forever cruel and wicked in their ways and not so incidently worship Bhaal. I do not know if you're familiar with them, but many generations ago they became twisted and started chanting prayers to effigies of the ram-headed god.

"Anyway, just months ago, they suddenly gathered en masse and marched on the temple and overran it. We?I," she frowned at having to make this correction, "do not know how they bypassed the numerous other tribes friendly to us, but somehow they had managed it. They demanded the relics of Scathach, but our temple had none of the relics, so they began slaughtering us. The Sisters fought valiantly, but even the Hirgaad in such numbers were too much for us. As I bled from my wound, I killed as many of my sisters' slayers as I could before I escaped to warn other temples that the legions of Bhaal sought Scathach's holy relics for some fell purpose."

She frowned deeper while she read Isuelt's reactions to her story. "Illea, forgive me. I see from your face that you are already aware of Bhaal's plans. It shames me that I'm too late to warn you...."

Issy

Date: 2012-05-30 17:29 EST
As Sorandra was welcomed into the fold of the Scathachian Sanctuary, information was exchanged. The Sisters, most of whom had come to join Isuelt and Delphinea in speaking with the newly arrived Priestess of Scathach, shared stories of knowledge of Temple Bhaal.

How Scathachian strongholds, held for generations, were being overrun. How Scathachian priestesses renowned for their battle skills were turning up missing. How deserted fortresses once occupied by mercenaries of Temple Bhaal were once more in motion. How blatant attacks by Bhaalites upon Scathachians were becoming more common. And what was more disturbing, was that these attackers were doing so in brilliant militaristic and guerrilla like fashions. Someone was behind the evil surge, someone had come to the forefront of Temple Bhaal and was wielding the god of murder's chess pieces with an expert hand.

Isuelt ran a hand over her face as her tired eyes stung in the bright flickering light of the candles and hearth. "We are at a crossroads of history, I fear." Her voice, while easily heard by all of her Sisters gathered, was not necessarily meant for them. She was voicing her deepest angst. "For centuries we have been upholding the mantle of our Goddess, our Scathach against Bhaal and his minions. And in recent years, we have come to enjoy a lag in violence from our old enemy." She sighed heavily, the weight on her shoulders bearing down. "It seems as though time and the Chronicler of Ages would have a new chapter to scribe in this eternal battle." Her finger, devoid of a glove here in the shelter of her home, ran along a rough vein of wood on the table until she could feel the splinter pierce her flesh. "I hope that when all is written we will not be the generation who let Scathach's temples fall to the whims of the god of murder."

She heard the shuffling of her Sisters and heard a few encouraging words tossed upon the evening air within the grand hall of the Sanctuary. With the remnants of a vast meal around them, they were all gathered at the table, each of them: Isuelt, Mirage, Valkyrie, Trixie, Delphinea, Athena, Vixen, Sorandra, Derinoe, Sheryl, Janie, Cray, Marlah, Chi, Laufeia, and even Camilla.

And Isuelt hoped it would not be the last time that they were all present and accounted for, alive and well.

"We have much work to be done, my Sisters. We have been trained for this, Daughters of Scathach, for our entire lives. It is time to rise to the goddess of war's calling. May Scathach's blessing be upon all of us."