Bonesplinter Ravine [M] Viva La Vida

Herod loomed by the altar, a formidable figure etched against the indigo sweep of the night sky, his presence a dark, imposing monolith. His cloak cascaded about him, a river of black that pooled at his feet like shadows made flesh, an extension of his very essence, as though the darkness itself obeyed him.

Brothers, sisters, his voice intoned, swelling over the gathered crowd with a resonance that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of their bones, captivating them in its haunting, inexorable cadence. The words unfurled like an incantation, each syllable rich and somber, weaving a spell of solemnity and fervor around those assembled. The air grew taut, heavy with anticipation, as if even the stars above held their breath to bear witness.

Tomorrow, we march to Godsmouth, Herod continued, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces, each lifted in reverence, awaiting his command as he spoke from on high. Tonight, we stand here as one, united by purpose, bound by blood, to call upon the gods themselves—to ask their protection, their power, their favor. For it is only with their blessing that we shall find the strength to overcome, the wisdom to prevail, and the fire to carve our destiny.

A hush settled over the assembly, a reverent silence as Herod’s eyes glinted with dark fire. He extended his paw toward the crowd, a commanding hand that held both promise and threat. And with the help of our Prophet, we shall gain their favor, he declared, his words vibrating with a fervent authority that left no room for doubt, for fear.

Joanna—come forth, my daughter, he called, his voice tender. In the tense silence, the crowd parted, all eyes following the path of the chosen one as she stepped forward, her form haloed by moonlight, her face radiant with the honor of her calling. She moved with ethereal grace, her footsteps steady as if guided by an unseen force, every inch of her a vessel prepared for divine purpose.