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[5E] The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter One
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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 7346883" data-attributes="member: 6799460"><p><strong>Pesserl: Pink Skies</strong></p><p></p><p>The old councilor snapped awake with a jolt, a dizzying closeup view of the tower’s upper wall blurring and spinning in his eyes. He was tipped on his side, rolled in a ball like a defensive hedgehog.</p><p></p><p>Clearly time had passed, but he didn’t know how much, nor did he particularly care.</p><p></p><p>Sitting upright, Pess wished he could rub that aching shoulder. Sometimes the other arm felt like it was there, other times it certainly wasn’t. There was to be no relief for what cold stone had done in those brief moments asleep.</p><p></p><p>Staggering and knees creaking, with one hand on the stone for balance, he arose and risked closing his eyes. This is how it was to be done, they’d instructed.</p><p></p><p>Carefully he rotated on the spot, and walked forwards in a blind search for the balcony wall. A boot-toe bumped it after a few steps.</p><p></p><p>A wheezy breath, an attempt to open his mind, and he opened both eyes and soul to the world.</p><p></p><p>Pesserl gasped. </p><p></p><p>This wasn’t some minor detail or intricate symbol of the year to be. </p><p></p><p>This was… terrifying. </p><p></p><p>Almost at once he found himself on his knees, one hand groping for the horn’s lips. Dread washed over the poor messenger like a tide of silt. He knew then, what must be said. This certainly, wasn’t going to be a year of “fruit”.</p><p></p><p>Then to make things worse, a shiver rumbled down his spine. Something else was wrong. Something else was here...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="97mg, post: 7346883, member: 6799460"] [b]Pesserl: Pink Skies[/b] The old councilor snapped awake with a jolt, a dizzying closeup view of the tower’s upper wall blurring and spinning in his eyes. He was tipped on his side, rolled in a ball like a defensive hedgehog. Clearly time had passed, but he didn’t know how much, nor did he particularly care. Sitting upright, Pess wished he could rub that aching shoulder. Sometimes the other arm felt like it was there, other times it certainly wasn’t. There was to be no relief for what cold stone had done in those brief moments asleep. Staggering and knees creaking, with one hand on the stone for balance, he arose and risked closing his eyes. This is how it was to be done, they’d instructed. Carefully he rotated on the spot, and walked forwards in a blind search for the balcony wall. A boot-toe bumped it after a few steps. A wheezy breath, an attempt to open his mind, and he opened both eyes and soul to the world. Pesserl gasped. This wasn’t some minor detail or intricate symbol of the year to be. This was… terrifying. Almost at once he found himself on his knees, one hand groping for the horn’s lips. Dread washed over the poor messenger like a tide of silt. He knew then, what must be said. This certainly, wasn’t going to be a year of “fruit”. Then to make things worse, a shiver rumbled down his spine. Something else was wrong. Something else was here... [/QUOTE]
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