neron
It was carnage. Neron had watched the towers fall, watched the gates, watched the Eirachi's devout try to storm through, and whilst he had wanted to go and join those holding them back, there had been so much that needed his attention.
And, seeing both Zariah and Loren heading into the fray, he had decided there was quite enough Launceleyns dealing with the problem for one night.
That decision had led him here now, in a large square where, once upon a time, he'd taken part in a bonfire and a song for Safrin. There were no celebrations to be had now - but there was a bonfire. Neron had to stay well back from the flames, but the guards and other citizens were feeding it fuel, and he was busying himself in fortifying the damaged houses and businesses with ice.
The injured were taking shelter around the fire, though it was too cold even there, and his Ascended body informed him of that fact with increasing urgency, even though he would take no damage from it.
Soot smeared, with torn clothes and fluid leaking from a still-closing wound above his eye, Neron headed now to the street entrance, working on corralling further people to safety. How well it would be received was beyond him; the Eirachi's call had echoed well across the Citadel, and he was not ignorant to its implications.
And, seeing both Zariah and Loren heading into the fray, he had decided there was quite enough Launceleyns dealing with the problem for one night.
That decision had led him here now, in a large square where, once upon a time, he'd taken part in a bonfire and a song for Safrin. There were no celebrations to be had now - but there was a bonfire. Neron had to stay well back from the flames, but the guards and other citizens were feeding it fuel, and he was busying himself in fortifying the damaged houses and businesses with ice.
The injured were taking shelter around the fire, though it was too cold even there, and his Ascended body informed him of that fact with increasing urgency, even though he would take no damage from it.
Soot smeared, with torn clothes and fluid leaking from a still-closing wound above his eye, Neron headed now to the street entrance, working on corralling further people to safety. How well it would be received was beyond him; the Eirachi's call had echoed well across the Citadel, and he was not ignorant to its implications.
you're so cold, put your hand in mine
