Post by Andraste Longo-Drom on Oct 9, 2016 22:07:44 GMT -5
She didn’t have the ringing of steps that others did, some tell-tale sign of her coming to place. Her soft-soled boots gently placed, each step took a measured pace as she listened and felt the world around her. The woman had become better known amongst the people of Arith however not in so much that she was easily identified amongst them. She preferred her name to be without a face, while others might have disagreed. The curves of her face, their exotic nature, was covered by the bindings of violet and gold above the slope of her nose. Her long chestnut strands had been intertwined in the style she normally placed them in combat. She wasn’t here for combat… but she was here as the weapon, not as the woman.
The temples were so often the same and somehow not, given the fact that her proximity from Zyon was questionable she had chosen to take her prayer to the Sanctuary. The energy around were shared by more than The Six, though the individual names were unknown to Andraste, she could still feel their pull and the interworking of them around.
There was one that called to her, swirling the very darkness in her being and ringing in response. Her head lowered as she approached Kanesh’s alter. Slender hands removed the staff from her back before she lowered her form before it. Her feet tucked under the curve of her body, the staff laid upon Kanesh’s alter, feeling the rise in response from her Mistress.
“Kanesh… come to me for the road is dark and I need the wisdom to proceed.” Andraste’s words left her lips in a soft hushed tone. No other was near to bear witness to her request, the pull of darkness responding across from her. She didn’t need eyes to see it, it was within her, around her, a whisper in the darkness of her being. Unyielding, relentless, hot to the touch.
The response was in her own mind, unheard or untouched by the mortals around her. “You call, pet?”
“I am need of more than myself as a weapon, Mistress. I need you to make my staff to your own likeness, so I might serve you.” Her head stayed bowed concentrating a moment as she considered her next words carefully to the Goddess. “Kanesh, I cannot do it alone, by your hand… grace my staff, let me serve you.”
The darkness swirled and touched her, kissing her in her mind with a chuckle. Kanesh was a dark and dangerous Mistress. There would be a boon required… Andraste knew as much. But the boon she paid time and time again was her service, it would suffice.
“It has a name… whisper the name to me, pet.”
Her mind stilled, focusing on the voice, on the feeling of the staff as it hummed in her hand after, the way it swirled to her, spoke to her, whispered to her.
“Obelisk of Kanesh…”
“Remember, to me do you owe this… not your Master, me alone.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Andraste’s form rose once the presence of the Goddess had faded away. Her hands ran along the staff which had been crafted now blessed. “…and so it has a name.”
The temples were so often the same and somehow not, given the fact that her proximity from Zyon was questionable she had chosen to take her prayer to the Sanctuary. The energy around were shared by more than The Six, though the individual names were unknown to Andraste, she could still feel their pull and the interworking of them around.
There was one that called to her, swirling the very darkness in her being and ringing in response. Her head lowered as she approached Kanesh’s alter. Slender hands removed the staff from her back before she lowered her form before it. Her feet tucked under the curve of her body, the staff laid upon Kanesh’s alter, feeling the rise in response from her Mistress.
“Kanesh… come to me for the road is dark and I need the wisdom to proceed.” Andraste’s words left her lips in a soft hushed tone. No other was near to bear witness to her request, the pull of darkness responding across from her. She didn’t need eyes to see it, it was within her, around her, a whisper in the darkness of her being. Unyielding, relentless, hot to the touch.
The response was in her own mind, unheard or untouched by the mortals around her. “You call, pet?”
“I am need of more than myself as a weapon, Mistress. I need you to make my staff to your own likeness, so I might serve you.” Her head stayed bowed concentrating a moment as she considered her next words carefully to the Goddess. “Kanesh, I cannot do it alone, by your hand… grace my staff, let me serve you.”
The darkness swirled and touched her, kissing her in her mind with a chuckle. Kanesh was a dark and dangerous Mistress. There would be a boon required… Andraste knew as much. But the boon she paid time and time again was her service, it would suffice.
“It has a name… whisper the name to me, pet.”
Her mind stilled, focusing on the voice, on the feeling of the staff as it hummed in her hand after, the way it swirled to her, spoke to her, whispered to her.
“Obelisk of Kanesh…”
“Remember, to me do you owe this… not your Master, me alone.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Andraste’s form rose once the presence of the Goddess had faded away. Her hands ran along the staff which had been crafted now blessed. “…and so it has a name.”