Achaean News
The Fall of Thera
Written by: Anonymous
Date: Sunday, February 20th, 2005
Addressed to: Everyone
This day shall be a black mark upon the annals of history. For sweet
Thera, the birthplace of Nicator-once-Nikolas and his faithful Queen
Petra... Thera, proud ally of Ashtan in the ancient wars against
Shallam... spirited and lovely Thera of its blushing blossoms and
blacksmiths, its fabled well and its age-old mysteries, its beautiful
cemetery, its strong and courageous citizenry -- Thera has fallen.
I have been spared only for the simple fact that I preferred to live
closer to my work, closer to the forest that yielded my livelihood than
within the town limits. It was mere paces away from my home where the
accursed Vertani came, those terrible golden-eyed giants who have
reduced proud Thera to rubble.
They came with their Overlord, a man named Drafaris, and four tall
magelords of emaciated appearance. They were so close, I could see the
pure power burning in the magelords' golden eyes, a power so strong it
seemed to have burned the flesh off their bones. I listened to the
shouts between the Overlord and Ariel, our mayor. She was always a
spitfire. But I knew in my heart from watching them that it wouldn't
have mattered what she had said, then. The Vertani's minds were made up.
Our Ashtan allies and others, I heard them coming. I wanted to scream, I
wanted to warn them, but I was too afraid of drawing the Vertani's
attention to my cottage. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
When those bird-thin magelords began to raise their arms towards the
sky, began channeling that horrible power down, when the fiery meteors
came speeding down upon Thera, I was frozen there. So many died. So many
screams. I couldn't move, couldn't even open my mouth to scream, and
perhaps that was more of their magicking, I don't know. Maybe I could
have done something. I don't know
All I know is that Thera is gone. Thera, beloved Thera. Ariel, the
blacksmith, the priest, the children... nothing but rubble and ash. I do
not know how to mourn for something I never thought I could lose.
Enfrin, once-woodcutter of Thera.
Penned by my hand on the 10th of Glacian, in the year 385 AF.
The Fall of Thera
Written by: Anonymous
Date: Sunday, February 20th, 2005
Addressed to: Everyone
This day shall be a black mark upon the annals of history. For sweet
Thera, the birthplace of Nicator-once-Nikolas and his faithful Queen
Petra... Thera, proud ally of Ashtan in the ancient wars against
Shallam... spirited and lovely Thera of its blushing blossoms and
blacksmiths, its fabled well and its age-old mysteries, its beautiful
cemetery, its strong and courageous citizenry -- Thera has fallen.
I have been spared only for the simple fact that I preferred to live
closer to my work, closer to the forest that yielded my livelihood than
within the town limits. It was mere paces away from my home where the
accursed Vertani came, those terrible golden-eyed giants who have
reduced proud Thera to rubble.
They came with their Overlord, a man named Drafaris, and four tall
magelords of emaciated appearance. They were so close, I could see the
pure power burning in the magelords' golden eyes, a power so strong it
seemed to have burned the flesh off their bones. I listened to the
shouts between the Overlord and Ariel, our mayor. She was always a
spitfire. But I knew in my heart from watching them that it wouldn't
have mattered what she had said, then. The Vertani's minds were made up.
Our Ashtan allies and others, I heard them coming. I wanted to scream, I
wanted to warn them, but I was too afraid of drawing the Vertani's
attention to my cottage. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
When those bird-thin magelords began to raise their arms towards the
sky, began channeling that horrible power down, when the fiery meteors
came speeding down upon Thera, I was frozen there. So many died. So many
screams. I couldn't move, couldn't even open my mouth to scream, and
perhaps that was more of their magicking, I don't know. Maybe I could
have done something. I don't know
All I know is that Thera is gone. Thera, beloved Thera. Ariel, the
blacksmith, the priest, the children... nothing but rubble and ash. I do
not know how to mourn for something I never thought I could lose.
Enfrin, once-woodcutter of Thera.
Penned by my hand on the 10th of Glacian, in the year 385 AF.