Bloodwalk

"Because this time, we do not hide." Talmen looked around in confusion at the ruins and the forest, and huffed an incredulous reply. "I'd say we are smack in the middle of hidden, canomorph." Khaemil smiled, enjoying Talmen's ignorance and paranoia. "The oracles, Talmen." "What of them? Why are you smiling?" Khaemil enjoyed baiting Talmen with mysteries. The malefactor was nervous and easily pushed to anger.

"They know already. That we are here, and that we are coming." The Gargauthan's eyes grew wide behind his mask. He was speechless at this news. Khaemil chuckled deeply as thunder boomed overhead. "All of our work has been for naught! We might have just as easily charged in as barbarians from the north! What good has creeping into these ruins done?" Khaemil watched him curiously, wondering how the Gargauthan had managed to survive among the devil-god's faithful for so long. He looked ridiculous pacing about in his hideous mask, gesticulating wildly as he mumbled to himself. "This is a dangerous game that Morgy

They will anticipate our moves!" Talmen pointed at Khaemil and then to the east, roughly in the direction of Brookhollow and the oracles' temple. He yelled above the noise of the chanting wizard-priests and the grumbling storms they gathered. "Precisely, fool," Khaemil answered calmly, but irritation in his voice let slip the hidden growl of his bestial nature. Before Talmen could respond to the insult, both of them became aware of a vibration on the air, a voice that rose above everything else. Looking up at the tower, flashes of light could be seen in Morgy

The majority of the assembled hunters packed into the sanctuary and surrounding halls of the i

It was within these halls that, as a child, she'd been the first to hear of their parents' death. Under the care of the oracles, Eli and Dres had often studied the tapestries and frescoes of the main sanctuary, lost in the stories they told. Elisandrya had been alone that day when Sameska came to her with the news. As tragic as the day had been, it paled in comparison to the revelations of the following day. Eli had endeavored to become a hunter soon after, and vowed to return only upon Sameska's death. It was a coward's oath, she thought.

"Sevrak deslotas, emuarte." Dres's voice carried through the circular chamber, echoing off the walls and growing louder as it lingered near the high dome above and returned in an amplified wave. Eli shook her head to clear it of memories and focus on the ceremony. A soft glow formed around Dreslya's eyes and drifted to the oracles on either side of her, until all the oracles stared at the crowd through a white haze of light. Eli envied them at times. They all worshiped Savras in their own ways, but only the oracles might hear his voice, perhaps see through his eyes. The best a hunter could expect were brief and flashing insights, the shadow of a vision-vague hints to what might occur in the immediate future. "Peshtak revallas, emuarte." This the oracles said in unison, though Dreslya's voice, as the Sibylite, led the harmony of the rite's prayers, woven in a tapestry of supplication and old magic. The walls began to vibrate with the sound. Tiny lines appeared like cracks at first, unfolding into the wards and runes of spells hidden in the white stone and marble floors. The entire sanctuary became a shining scroll of stone covered in writings of power. In dangerous times, these arcane and divine defenses fortified the temple and protected the oracles while enhancing their power. Only once in the history of Brookhollow had they been used, and that was long ago, shortly after the temple's completion, when life near the Qurth was more tumultuous. The forest had been calmer since those days, having tested the will of the border towns and finding them formidable. The hunters remained on guard though, patrolling the Qurth's edges and battling those tainted beasts that crawled from its entwined roots. "Savras. All-Seeing One. As an infant, I opened my eyes and was blind until you showed me what to see. Let us now hear the voice of your sight." Dreslya turned and lit a single candle at the foot of the altar. She faced Baertah again and sat, joining the other oracles in their semicircle. A veiled alcove behind the altar opened and revealed Sameska, standing proudly with her arms wide. The high oracle stepped forward, allowing all to witness her in her finest robes before speaking. She nodded to the lord hunter and cast her eyes across the gathered warriors and the oracles. Eli was silent, clenching the rail in front of her and fighting to maintain her composure. The image of Sameska's face, looking down that hawkish nose at the little girl caught in the sanctuary after dark, was fresh in her mind. She looked away, grinding her teeth and attempting to quell her nearly unstrung emotions. Movement caught her eye. The oracle at the far left of the circle kept rubbing her face with a stained sleeve. Her nose had begun to bleed and the sleeve bore a patch of reddish brown where her attempts to stanch the flow were evident. The glow around them all flickered slightly. The thunder outside, inaudible until now, crept ominously closer. "Hear me!" The high oracle's voice was shrill, but the gathered hunters answered, "We hear." Sameska took a breath to continue, but it caught in her throat.