V1P6A
"Goddess, please let her be okay."
*rumble*
Dozens of galloping warhorses pound down a dirt road that twists and turns through wooded hills. Heavily armed and armored riders spurring them onward. Both riders and mounts push themselves beyond their limits.
While famous, the remote Saint Sanriel Cathedral gets few pilgrims. This route's condition is what you would expect of one days from the nearest town and not part of any trade route.
Luckily the morning’s rain wasn't heavy enough to turn the route into a muddy quagmire or wash out parts of it.
"Captain! Please prepare yourself! She may already have been spoiled!"
The yelled advice of his subordinate brings the knight leading this charge no comfort. They have all seen atrocities over the years. Taken part in some too. If the expedition was truly ambushed? The results could be very grim indeed.
A panicked messenger from the church had caught everyone off guard. The best and brightest of the kingdom, and its allies, were taking part. Any demon attack should be easily crushed.
However, an oracle suddenly had a vision of them all falling. Together. In a great temple. So those who could be dispatched immediately, were. More following as soon as they can.
“I do not care Regohn! If there is any chance that she lives? I will save her this time!”
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Even “soiled” survivors could still find peace in a convent. Assisting oracles, copying books, making clothes. Anything, even death, was better than being dragged away to Drasritor.
Cloaks, surcoats, capes, and caparisons, billowing. The worried knights' desperate run continues.
Airnett, Theovald (male, human, tourinese)
Apenstoe, Regohn (male, human, tourinese)
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