A single light walked along the path. It was a path less travelled these times. Many outright avoided it. The farmers’ fields stopped some time ago. Wild grasses and flowers were already blossoming amongst the untouched plains. Mixed amongst the abandoned wheat. Wilderness was already slowly reclaiming the path as well. Few ventured so close to the husk of Teperia. Ever since it was razed to the ground some six months ago. Some said it was haunted. That you could still hear the screams of the death and dying. Some said that you could still see the orange glow above the city’s wall at night. As if it was still burning. Beozaar had no time for such tales. The many scars on his body each told a tale. The ones on his back told a tale of the Gardens. His far off home. The one on his wrist told the tale of Nallan, where he was imprisoned. The burned skin on his cheek though, that marked his presence in Teperia on that fateful day. The power he had witnessed there. It was awe inspiring. His entire life he felt as if he was drifting away from the Gardens. Now he realized some greater entity, perhaps a god, had guided him towards Auriëlle. The Prophet. The Witch of Fire. As he approached the quiet walls of Teperia, he looked up. Somehow the stars looked a little darker tonight. The purple moon looked pale and pink and far away. A chill wind blew through the still broken gate. It was beckoning him, he knew it. Without doubt or reservations he walked inside. The city had changed. Some of the ash had turned white like snow. A cloaked figure approached him. She too wielded a torch but kept most of her face hidden under a hood. Still, Beozaar could see her smirk. “I didn’t think you would show up.” She said. “How could I miss it?” Beozaar responded. The woman turned around and he followed her. “How many more came?” “Most who were at Bul’Gadin answered the call. Some decided to remain with Auriëlle. They see it as an honor.” The woman said as she made her way through a path that wasn’t entirely hidden but wasn’t obvious to find. You had to know where to step. This was how it was with the cult. “Most are nervous though.” The woman continued. “I think they know what you’ll ask of them.” She stopped and turned around. Even though she was smaller than him, he could feel her presence bearing down on him. “It’s their home, Beozaar. I know you hate yours but they don’t hate theirs. We can wait. We could-“ “Stop.” His voice was soft, almost caring. It instantly silenced the woman. “You have seen what I have seen, Esira. And you felt what I felt as well.” But he knew why she was so apprehensive. Nallan took her in. Made her the woman she was now. Not some chieftain’s wife but a woman of her own rights. He hugged her tightly and she returned it with the same affection. “I promise you, it’s for the better.” Esira pressed her lips together as she fought the tears welling up in her eyes. Eventually though, she had to let go. “Come. The rest are waiting.” After a few more minutes of walking, Esira and Beozaar arrived at the campfire. Around it sat many cloaked figures. Casting long shadows on the half-ruined buildings around them. They had made their camp on the plaza in front of the broken temple of the Light. Stones from the ruined altar, still brown and black from the blood, surrounded the fire. Some mumbled their greetings, others only had eye for the flames. “Friends.” Beozaar greeted them. His voice was still gentle but louder. The murmur vanished. “Thank you, all of you, for coming.” His eyes went over everyone around the fire. He knew most of them by name at least. “I’ve called you here because we must confront two issues. The first is a matter of home and hearth. Nallan.” He began to walk around the fire. “It’s the city the Prophetessswore herself to. You know this. But it creates a problem for the inevitable end of this world. The Prophetesscannot lay low Nallan. So we must do it.” People began to look at eachother, but didn’t dare utter a word. “Brothers, sisters. What I’m asking here is no easy task. I know this.” He stopped and the people around him made way for him to sit. “We cannot destroy Nallan like we destroyed Teperia and Bul’Gadin. What we need to be is poison. Have the kingdom in the palm of our hands, ready to kill it.” When he fell silent, the first whispers began to travel amongst the group. Beozaar let them for a while. He shared a smile with Esira, before he ushered them all to calm down again. “We must also look beyond the borders of Nallan. This world is doomed. We know it. The Prophetess told us. But we must prepare for its inevitability. When Galbar burns, it must burn bright and swiftly. So it is ready for the next world. To that end, we must prepare it. Our first goal, our first target, is the ancient city of Ketrefa. The crown jewel of our lands. The Prophetess will travel in that direction when she is released from her duty in a few days. Esiré-“ He motioned at her. “-will lead the warband that follows her.” “Now you must chose. I have one last warning. If you chose to aid me in preparing Nallan, know that you’ll one day be hunted. Your friends, your queen, they will all hate you. The Prophetess herself will no doubt come and deliver your death. This is if we can witness the end of this world in our life. If we don’t, know that your duty will not stop with you. You remain with me and you will sacrifice your very bloodline. Your children and their children’s children will have to follow your path. Remain with me only if you are absolute in your conviction. Because if you aren’t, I swear to you that I will erase your existence. The other choice is to follow Esiré. She will follow Auriëlle and work as a mercenary. You will never return to Nallan, but you will see what this world has to offer and prepare it for the End. Chose now.” More than two third of the people present rose and walked over to Esiré. Beozaar locked eyes with every man and woman who remained around the fire. In each he saw the right thing: total conviction. He let out a grunt and a nod in thanks. Esiré left with her people. “So..” one who remained said. “Where do we start?” Beozaar grinned. “We start… by becoming model citizens.” [hider=Summary]Beozaar called a meeting of the Cult of the Destroyer in the ravaged city of Teperia. First he has a small discussion with his second in command, Esiré. She begs him not to put his dilemma forth but he stops he protest and says it’s for the best of all. At the meeting, on the plaza in front of the ruined temple of the Light, he explains his plan: because Auriëlle, the Prophetess, swore allegiance to Nallan (and technically the Tekhret still upholds that) they know she cannot move against Nallan. But Nallan needs to be destroyed as well in the great purge before the world can be reborn. So he explains that they must control and corrupt Nallan from the inside. The other option for the cultists is to follow Esiré, who will form a mercenary warband that follows Auriëlle and spread the hidden influence of the Cult. More than two third chose to abandon home and follow Esiré. She leaves with them, preparing to march towards Ketrefa alongside the Prophetess. Beozaar, in turn, tells his people to become model citizens of Nallan.[/hider] [hider=Prestige] [b]Post Length:[/b] 6.2K +3 Prestige >> Cult of the Destroyer [/hider]