Re: The War Intensifies
The Sea kings gathered in the great shell, in the hall of focus. Because focus they would need to talk to HER.
It fell upon Cyy to lead the communion, him being the oldest as well as blessed by HER will. Prophet.
Prophet?, he sure hadnīt asked to be a bloody prophet. His holiness was not a volountary one, but he had been called. And however much he hated it there was no refusing HER will.
They began, blowing pinkish bubbles to each other to seal the comminion and soon Cyys mind was filled with the sweet psychedelic clarity of being the focus of power. Med huffed and reached out, there was no need to find her, he always knew where SHE was.
As always, HER mind overwhelmed and swallowed him. He was drifting inside her divine feelings. And right now these were rage and the joy of slaughter. SHE was in battle, swarmed with tritons who fell like harvested corn before her, through pain and death submissed into HER dominion.
SHE was unwilling to return, and saw little cause to save such pathetic servants incapable of defending their own capital. Cyy pleaded. Cried his love. Begged. But in the end it was the opportunity to have sea trolls for dinner that changed the tables. Fatigued from the effort, Cyy fell unconcious.
When Cyy awoke everything was black from HER ink, the city swallowed by darkness. Sea trolls cried out their pain in the distance.
- Up yerr azzes, bittzches! He mumbled and went back to sleep.
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