Snippet #1446930

Tyrunga and Ivy strode purposefully down the long path to the Oracle, a few knights behind them. Aesaphos was stood in front of the large metal doors that served as an entrance. He held his palm out to signal them to stop.
“Is he in there?” Asked Tyrunga in his gruff voice. Aesaphos nodded.
“When will he come out?” Asked Ivy. Aesaphos shrugged. The heavy boom from within of the curtain doors closing resonated around the courtyard, followed by the opening of the outer metal doors. The Ninth Seer stepped out, shadows billowing around him. All present kneeled as he exited the building.
“Arise. What is it?” He spoke, cold indifference in his voice, waving his hand at Tyrunga.
“There are reports that many guilds are mobilising…”
“Towards a beam of light, yes I already know this.” The Seer interrupted.
“Should we mobilise ourselves? I can get the Acolytes on the move faster than now.” Suggested Ivy.
“No, we will not waste our time following such trivialities, let the other guilds fight amongst themselves for it. We shall remain here, it is Jiraba’s will.”

Warchief Grugbaguk came stomping up the bath, flanked by orc berserkers and knights. He punched his chest in salute and made his report.
“Our Watchers picked this up.” He grunted. A large Orc knight came forward, holding a glass bottle with a faerie in it. Tyrunga scoffed at such a crude trap whereas Ivy took pleasure in seeing it cramped inside it.
“Bring it forward.” Said the Seer. The bottle was placed on the floor in front of Aesaphos. “Well creature, what news do you bring from Divinity?”
“There is to be a guild leader meeting at Athendra in two days.” It whimpered.
“What makes the Divinity so sure that I will turn up? Would it be to discuss the light in the sands? I have no interest in pursuing it. Aesaphos, if you would be so kind.”
The silent warrior lifted his mighty zwëihander, ready to strike.
“You can’t kill me! I have messenger’s protection!” Cried the faerie.
“The creature speaks the truth Lord.” Agreed Tyrunga. The Seer turned to face away from them all. Sighing heavily he resigned.
“Fine, tell your Lord that the Temple will attend. But tell him that we will refuse to go off on some quest to find some sparkly sand.” He re-entered the Oracle as Aesaphos’ blade came down and broke the bottle without hitting the faerie.

Later that day, the Seer stood at the mighty gates of Durak-Mur; he would be taking Aesaphos with him for sure. He decided to leave Tyrunga, his strategic mind would be able to organise defence against any underhanded assaults while they were away. Ivy would be keeping the army on the march. Warlord Kikoliath rode up alongside the Seer and Aesaphos.
“Shame we aren’t going to war. I feel like bashing a few heads in.”
“Yeah, that sounds good, can’t we do that instead?” Shouted Grugbaguk from the drawbridge controls, where several large men and orcs were winding the wheel to lower the huge metal bridge.
“This is strictly business you meatheads. You can kill something later, let the politicians do their job first.” Said Reena sardonically.
“That’s another thing,” Said Kikoliath, “How come my daughter gets to go but I have to stay here?”
“Because you are neither intelligent nor beautiful enough father.” Replied Reena condescendingly.
“Enough talk, we ride.” Said Aesaphos in his grating hellish voice, every syllable seemed to be heavily laboured and otherworldly, its very nature silenced all further conversation. The Seer nodded his head and the banner of the Temple was raised, the blood red ‘T’. They began their march towards Athendra, containing Aesaphos, Ivy, Reena and one hundred and fifty personnel, seventy-five Acolytes, fifty knights, ten Svjodzen (acting as the personal bodyguard for the Seer) and fifteen Stalkers.