1/12/2024 0 Comments Bonfire irest loveHe looked down and saw his severed arm at his feet. It sliced out at him, sliced through him, and he felt oddly lighter as something thudded to the ground. The flash of the lightsaber came too quickly for Keel’ath to react. SPOILER information: this part of the story revolves around a pivotal moment in the Chapters plot of SWTOR, however, I gave it my own twist and very little is like how it is in the original. I can probably adapt a lot of it after spending more time with Brant's homecoming in other shorts. I'll still post this story up though, as I do like the timing and the interplay of the different scenes and moods. Brant still has more to explore with his family relationships before his big reveal with the Emperor, and the betrayal he pulls here puts him too far down the path of no return than I wanted. This one I didn't give a whole lot of thought to before finalizing as a post (I'm not sure what set Brant off in the beginning, for instance), and after a few days, I realized I wrote myself into a corner. I have been to that city in the years since the war, and it is now not. It was just past dawn, and we could see the waters of the city’s namesake, Lake Ta’hiki, through the mist. Our nerves and the excitement came back all at once when we finally found ourselves up on the gray cliffs overlooking Sun-On-The-Lake. I wondered then if we had only been taught those games to prepare us for something like this, not just our own childish amusement. We marched in single file along deer trails, stepping in each others’ footsteps, moving only like the akor’mari can with complete silence, as if we were all playing Stalk-the-Nekru in the close tunnels of our homeland. Scouts like myself had chosen a path that took us in a circuitous route around Rising Heath, and we could let our guard down for the first time since we had come in from the ships. Some of the army's excitement waned as we stumbled our way through the twisting forest paths of Lesser Nah’Ke’tzin: now tame Surfacer forests of beech and oak. Still, I enjoyed their presence and would. I had many friends - or at least people I would speak with regularly I know the word does not mean the same thing in your language. I talked lots, laughed lots, told stories. And somehow, she could understand.įor as long as I can remember, I’ve been the sort to be in the middle of attention. I slept in Sus'syri’s tent during the days, half because that's how cramped the available lodging was, and half because. The rest of the army was housed in tents, set up wherever there was space for them. They acted as if they expected retaliation. I don't know if they planned on living in the city once it was cleaned out, or if it was simply to be a temporary headquarters for the rest of our operations in Nah’Ke’tzin. The akor’mari set up shop within the city itself, repairing some of the buildings and walls, making them battle-ready. The next few weeks - or was it months? - after the fall of Sun-On-The-Lake was a blur to me. Daily we were warned by our officers about places still held by the wuyon’mari, where they had taken pains to dig out the cobblestones and plant pitfalls or other kinds of traps. There were ambushes and raids and assassinations. During the day, though, where the sun stung our eyes, they came out to harass us. At night we were safe enough we could see in the dark better than the wuyon’mari, and they knew it. We may have occupied the main roads and the Palace, but the rest was free-for-all. Yet in the alleyways and abandoned corners of the city, there was still danger. The akor’mari sung and celebrated and began to build up rudimentary dwellings for themselves - and for their prisoners – as if it was nothing more exciting than carving out a new market cavern back in Vuzsdin. On the outside, it appeared as if Sun-On-The-Lake had always been an akor’mar city, for all the wuyon’mari you saw out in the open. The akor’mar occupation of Sun-On-The-Lake was not a certain thing by any means.
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