No room for doubt.

No room for doubt.

Postby Cinnabar » Mon Nov 12, 2007 8:35 am

A message is delivered to the Temple of the Violet Dawn, a summons, couched in the language of authority, of officialdom, but the instructions are plain enough: Choose a half-dozen from among your own, whose word the rest can trust. Witnesses. Come to the Constabulary's headquarters to identify a body.

At the Yard, officers wait to receive them. The witnesses are signed in, and guided into the the bowels of the Constabulary compound, to a doorway in a corridor, unremarkable, one door among others. This section of the corridor, though, is thick with the fragrance of incense, undoubtedly burned in an attempt to mask another, less pleasant odour; a clinging, sickly taint to the air that grows yet stronger when one of the officers opens the door for the witnesses to enter. Inside the room, which rapidly grows crowded as the members of the Dawn filter inside, the stench is almost overpowering; death, yes, and not recent, a miasma of rotten sweetness fit to turn the stomach. On a trestle in the middle of the room, covered in a plain white sheet, is what can only be the source of the smell. A body. One can tell from the shape of it, from the drape and fold of cloth covering it. Once can tell from the stink of it, a foulness that coats the nose and tongue as one breathes.

Once the witnesses are gathered, a Government official in sombre clothes, a perfumed kerchief tied over nose and mouth, moves to lift the sheet from the corpse's face.

What lies beneath may be a shock to those brought in to witness it. Mottled, bloated, almost unrecognisable - and yet, there are signs, recognisable features. The curve of that proud brow, that distinguished aquiline nose, still visible in profile, for all that once-ivory skin is discoloured and darkened, for all that dark eyes are now clouded and hidden beneath swollen lids, for all that cruel lips are puffy with decay. Most distinctive, though, most compelling, is that mark upon his brow; that black and twisted brand that identifies this decaying corpse as that of the man once known as Sin'Vraal.

Time enough is granted for the witnesses to identify the body, to confirm for themselves that yes, this is their teacher, guru, mentor; to satisfy themselves that this is no trick, no deception, but only ugly, undeniable truth; to confirm that he is most certainly deceased, and thus prey to the corruption and morbidity that takes all mortals upon death.

Time enough for them to appreciate the certainty of it.
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.
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Postby SinVraal » Mon Nov 12, 2007 2:18 pm

Death.

One of them fainted.

Another stared in shock as horror wormed through his heart with the promise of decay. Not necrosis of body but of mind, of soul, of his very spirit as the light of life within him felt to gutter and die - joining their mutilated guru upon the unceremonial slab.

A third wept bitter, trembling tears that blossomed from pale eyes granted sight through Vraal's guided blessings of the faithful. Through suddenly salted lips she stumbled through choked prayers, wishing her hands to pluck the heart from her own chest, wishing to see it beat within him instead.

There is no hiding from death. Nor, it might seem, from the Ashfiend who once again plagues Myrken Wood.

"All is lost," one muttered and fell to her knees, head bowed amidst a dampened veil of dark hair.

The staring one laid a trembling hand upon her shoulder, tears painting shame without fear upon his tanned features. He took a knee beside her, touching his forehead to her shoulder, whispering their only benediction.

"We are the gods of our own fate."
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
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Postby Khalika » Mon Nov 12, 2007 8:03 pm

One by one it seems, each member of the Violet Dawn, held some reaction. Weeping for their teachers death, their mentor, another tries to console them, by whispering calm words....

Yes, they were the gods of their own fate...

Rebecca was the last to look upon the corpse, yet she didn't flinch from the smell of rotting flesh, didn't pull away at the sight of his rotting bloating form. In fact a hand lifted, laying palm upon his corpse brow, leaning close to his form she whispered to the dead thing...

" I know you, I learned, I saw... You lied to us. But you gave us what we needed to go on with out you..

Then she looked up and turned to face the other, as she wiped her hands again...

"Do not weep, do not cower. That is what they want. To watch us break before their eyes because Lord Vraal was slain. Do not give them the satisfaction. We are a family, we of the dawn. Vraal did a service to us, by bringing us together. By giving us the courage to find what we already had.
We have found it, we have flourished. We do not need him anymore. We have never been Idol worshipers. We will not become such now. Remember my family..

WE are the GODS of our own FATE"


Then she turned to the government offical...

"If you have finished, please lead my family out. Your cruel joke has gotten the reaction I am sure you wanted.

A pause as she looks to the other with a smile, it was tender and gentle as ever. Yet those who know her, would see there is a confidence, an inner strength, that was not seen in the school teacher before. It seems her fall through the spider web was an interesting journey, if not strangely brief in her mind.

"On more thing, if possible.....I would like to speak to your Govenor.."
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby Cinnabar » Tue Nov 13, 2007 5:49 am

A small and peevish frown from the dark-clothed official at this outburst of dramatics, and one might imagine that he purses his lips impatiently behind that kerchief. He shakes his head, then, voice softened by that barrier of fabric.

"No, miss, I fear you are mistaken. Nor is this a joke. We have a body that requires identification, so what we want is for you to identify it, if you would be so kind. Clearly you know the, ah, deceased, so if you could confirm his name for our records, we can be done with this. Then we shall be finished." There's a nod for the Constables at the door, though, one of whom moves to assist the fainted witness from the room; the air is indeed quite bad, and near to the corpse must be quite nauseating.

"As for the other matter, the Governor is obviously quite busy at the moment; if you wish to speak with him without an appointment you may be in for quite a wait."
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Postby Khalika » Tue Nov 13, 2007 7:15 pm

Rebecca took a deep breath, ignoring for now the speakers tone and words, as she looks to the other...

"You need not stay for this...Your eyes have told you what heart and mind already knew. No one is forever, no one is without falsehoods. We all know the truth, the one truth that matter..... We are gods of our own fate. that is where our strength lies...

A look to the one who seems to be in charge of this little horror show..

"I shall do what you need, but they do not have to be here"

When they begin to move towards the door, she looked upon the corpse once more...

"You know this is Vraal, I know this is Vraal....I wounder though, why you deemed it necessary to wait till the body was this horrific putrid mess before you gathered them, most who have never seen a corpse in their life, to look upon it.

There was clear accusation in her tone, her mind already falling upon the worst case senerio. that being that they sought to terrify the family. In some aspects they succeded as the reactions they got were that of terror and fright. but one stood firm...Her Fate, her faith, a steel rod of confidence...

"As for your Govenor's oh so busy schedule. Perhaps if he is to busy to have a simple discussion concerning the family of the Dawn. Perhaps then I shall find another who is..I hear Thessilane is lovely in the fall...
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby SinVraal » Wed Nov 14, 2007 1:21 am

The gathering grows still at their mantra, rendered all the more poingant that the one who had taught it to them now lay beaten, broken, and entirely rotting before their very eyes. He bore the stink of death that burned into their hearts, made eyes to water in repugnance and fear of the future. Yet how does one differentiate between tears that intermingle with salty trails upon sorrowful faces?

Yet Rebecca, a later convert, seems to have the right of it. They were the gods of their own fate, not Vraal. To idolize him would be to mock everything he had done to instruct them, to change them, to help them release their fear.

For one of their number it was enough to add strength to his nerve, that he would remain with Rebecca as the others left. He regarded the proceedings, suddenly flavored politically, through tear-rimmed eyelashes and unashamed sniffling to control the remnants of his sorrow. He would not be afraid of his own feelings. He would not be afraid of *himself*, which is what Vraal struggled so often to teach them.

With the man's broken body before him, how could he do differently?
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
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Postby Cinnabar » Wed Nov 14, 2007 6:28 am

The official remains impassive throughout these accusations, absently watching the other witnesses file out, likely to be plied with tea to steady their nerves. Eventually, though, his gaze returns to the schoolteacher-zealot, gaze calm to the point of boredom.

"We suspected the body to be that of Mister Vraal, miss, but we required someone who knew him personally to make the formal identification. Thank you for doing so. As for the, ah, state of the remains, if you know of some means by which a cadaver might be preserved indefinitely, our mortuary staff would be most interested. As I understand, the state of decay was, ah, quite advanced before the remains came into our possession." The body identified, the official moves to replace the sheet, covering that mottled, bloated, but recognisable face once more.

"If you wish to claim the remains then that can be arranged, though there is a small amount of paperwork." Some small frown of perplexity, though, at that mention of Thessilane. "I'm sorry, I don't quite follow. As I say, if you wish to speak with the Governor without an appointment you may have to wait until his prior engagements are concluded. It may be sometime later in the afternoon, if you are willing to wait until then. However, if you insist, then we can check on whether he has any room between appointments." A gesture for the door, a nod to the Constables there.

"This way, please."
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Postby Khalika » Wed Nov 14, 2007 6:26 pm

"No, The afternoon will be fine...you must forgive my abruptness, it has been a trying time

Yes trying indeed. Since the night of the battle, her life has changed quite a bit....

"The Body?...the body is a shell, as are all dead thing. Perhaps now he will find what he lost..

In the few time she had met with her teacher, he was always so stouic, so far away. She hopes truly that now he has reached his destination....

"WE would like to return to the compand to remove fully our personal affects. WE will no longer have any part of a place that was taken from us. Like a young tree pulled out from its root...We will find more fertille ground to grow..

Then she too was turning to leave a smile as she saw another had found his inner God...

"My brother.....your new found strength give me courage, and makes my heart sing.. Will you come with me? to gather the others?...so we may say good-bye to the past and hello to the future?
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby Khalika » Fri Nov 16, 2007 11:21 am

The afternoon had arrived, and so had Rebecca to the office of the Governor. To the station, desk of the one who receives vistors she pauses.

"I was told to that I may be able be received by the Governor at this time?"

The young woman waits.
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby Cinnabar » Fri Nov 16, 2007 6:59 pm

And the young woman may have to wait for some while longer; the Governor is clearly quite a busy man, and with the various events troubling Myrken Wood this is perhaps unsurprising.

After a time, though, in which the schoolteacher is directed to take a seat on one of the benches at the side of the reception area and offered tea while she waits, a young lad in a tabard of Constabulary gray hurries up, ducks a quick bow, and asks her to follow him. She's led along various corridors, up some stairs and to a hallway, with the High Constable's office at the end. The door is pointed out, the runner quietly advises that it's generally good to knock first, and then bustles off to his next errand.

Should Rebecca knock and accept the called invitation to come in from behind the door, she will find herself in a modest-sized office, with bookcases, file cabinets and a desk, with a couple of comfortable (if plain) chairs set in front of it. Behind the desk, writing the last line on some report or orders or such, is the Governor.
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Postby Khalika » Fri Nov 16, 2007 7:53 pm

The young girl was patient, and calm. She seemed not bothered by the wait. when directed to take a seat she did with a smile and a nod to her head, when offered refreshments she did so with a thank-you and a smile. yet she could feel the light sidelong looks of those who pasted by. Most by now knew who she was, what she was. there were light whispers, perhaps quiet snickers..But she only smiled and sipper her tea, till the young lad came, and lead her the closed door of the Governor's office. When invited she opened the door to see him busy at work.

"I am sorry to interupt you at such a busy time, But I believe there are some thing we should discuss, concerning my family."

She uses not the terminology The Violet Dawn...For that was the past...

she waits now, sanding just inside a closed door...She waits for him to look up..
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby Cinnabar » Fri Nov 16, 2007 8:04 pm

"Sorry, just finishing this..."

A line or so more, then Calomel sets his pen aside, flips closed the lid on his inkwell, and adds the document to a stack of similar papers. That done, he laces his fingers together on the desk in front of him and regards the young lady curiously with keen grey eyes. He's neatly-dressed, black woollen doublet and white linen shirt, well-tailored without being ostentatious. Perhaps surprisingly young-looking, for all that his hair is silver-white and there's a polite smile for Rebecca as he nods to the chairs on the other side of the desk; still, some slightly puzzled frown at her introduction.

"Please, take a seat. Though, uh, I don't believe we've met before, so I'm fairly certain that I'm not acquainted with your family."
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Postby SinVraal » Sun Nov 18, 2007 2:18 pm

They leave, these half-dozen, carrying the burning stench of decay in their nostrils. It sears into minds and hearts, bearing with it the funerary scent not only of poor, polluted Vraal but also of their faith as it threatens to rot in the course of barely an hour's time. Some touched their brows, decorated with the triumphant violet dawn and wondered what madness had taken them. Would their families take them back? Others felt only cold resolve in their chests, bundling up blood and breath, bleeding lead into their heavy strides.

The last, the one who had remained with Rebecca, left with a renewed sense of purpose. The truth was bigger than himself, Rebecca, and even Vraal.

Someday it would all come to pass.

Someday the Violet Dawn would rise.
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
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Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2007 10:29 am

Postby Khalika » Tue Nov 20, 2007 1:18 pm

Chuckled lightly at his responce, taking a seat she concludes it is possible he is being sincere, though she still hold the mark of the Dawn upon her brow, the length of her bang does hinder a clear view. She also allows the possiblity that he is playing with her, perhaps testing her responce.

"You know my Family, you took our home. You mistakeningly thought our teacher was our leader... Our God?..."

A shake of the head...Perhaps now, he has some thought as to who her family is....

"I have come...."

A pause.. Eyes look up to him...

"I have come Sir governor, to speak about the childern of the Dawn..."
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby Cinnabar » Tue Nov 20, 2007 3:24 pm

"Oh, yes. Your cult. The one with the property that was fraudulently signed over to an imaginary person, which is itself quite thoroughly illegal. The property which was subsequently expropriated by the Council, and upon which property members of the cult been permitted to reside rent-free and unmolested for the last six weeks." A smile at that, though the expression is a formality at best. An expectant pause, then, brows lofting in polite inquiry.

"Well then. Speak on, please."
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