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+---- Thread: it was my season for battle wounds (/showthread.php?tid=2455)
it was my season for battle wounds - Amun - 01-03-2020
Amun had dragged himself to the shrine for The Voice hidden deep in the Underground. In his left hand, he held a walking stick, and in his pocket he held the glasses he brought before. He’d limped his way through the darkness that was not darkness to him, navigating the maze of tunnels that were now quite familiar to him.
Finally he arrived at the platform with the shrine. Kneeling before the statue of the woman who was herself praying, he cradled his mangled hand, the one that had been entirely crushed by a block of ice at Fiat Lux. His hip was healing slowly, but the hand was apparently beyond even his Ascended body’s ability to repair.
[say]”I would like to thank The Voice for protecting Samuel, Wessex, and I, and I’m sorry we could not save the Temple or your altar there.”[/say] His voice was tired, a far cry from the confident air he normally wore. [say]”I know I have no right to ask this, but I was hoping you could heal me, as you healed your other children.”[/say] Waiting, he stared at the statue, eyes devoid of their normal sparkle.
RE: it was my season for battle wounds - Random Event - 01-03-2020
The Voice is busy, her problems bigger than one Ascended's mangled hand. The temple is destroyed. The Fields are filled with mud and blood. Some of her own children were lost to the carnage. And she still doesn't have a shrine in Halo.
So it isn't particularly surprising that Amun is met with no reply, save a crackle of blue electricity and the feeling of contentment as his fluid is replenished.
RE: it was my season for battle wounds - Amun - 01-03-2020
As Amun was replenished, he smiled. [say]"Thank you."[/say] With that, he reached for the stick, and levered himself to his feet. Although he had hoped that The Voice might restore him completely, he had to content himself with what she'd given for now. Still, a small shred of doubt had crept into the very back of his mind, and try as he might, he couldn't shake it.
However, he limped away as best he could, not sparing the shrine a backwards glance. When he emerged from the tunnels, it was still night. So he made his way back to his studio, not up for helping out with the cleaning efforts or for exploration.
-FINISHED