MAEA
It wasn't raining anymore, and Maea cursed the awful timing. Receiving a bucket from the person behind her, she heaved it up with both hands and hurled the water forward. A furious hiss erupted as the last of a furious fire went out, leaving naught but embers left to smolder. As the last person in a bucket line, her tolerance to fire had left her closest to the inferno and as she signaled down the chain for the neighbors to rest, she slumped down to sit on her heels with an exhausted sigh.
The pottery was gone, as was the houses on either side of it. Across the street another building still burned. Burning meteors had hit her home dead on and only a season's worth of rain kept the whole neighborhood from being caught in the explosion and fire that followed. Only luck had kept her from dying. That, and being fire proof; nicks and scratches marred her from top to toe however, and being flung across the room had her bruised and aching all over.
Someone patted her on the shoulder, and a man's gruff voice informed her that the chain would move on. Off to assist with the other fire. Maea nodded wearily and waved him off. Remaining before the ashes of her home, wiping blood and tears from her eyes, she was too numb to think of what to do next. Help, probably. Do what Grounders had always done and hang in there, endure, rebuild. She found it such an ingrained part of herself that she hadn't even hesitated to join the effort to protect the rest of the town, despite complaining to Harper about how little she cared.
It kept her going.
Dragging herself up on her feet again, Maea approached the burned out husk of the building. Debris of wood and stone blocked the path and made it hard to get around. Most things were ruined. Clothes, pottery, the kiln, all the furniture - gone. Dust and ashes and more dust. The heat was intense enough that her clothes smoldered on her very skin, yet enveloped her like a comfortable embrace. Impractical. Maybe fireproof clothing would be a marketable product for Ancients... this was hardly the time for that, though.
A glimmer of sooty steel caught her eye. Half buried beneath a layer of charred wood, Maea found her daggers. A bit of rummaging produced the compass, miraculously intact; the bag they were stored in was ruined though. Sighing, she picked her way out of the building. In the distance, flames were dying down and people were starting to look at each other, finally given a moment to process. Above, the clear sky remained streaked with an otherworldly purple that did not fade.
Down the street, a voice cried out. Followed soon by a second, then a third voice. The absolute terror in the sound had Maea sprinting down the cobbled road before she could stop to think, and the scene she found as the rounded a corner was one of mayhem.
Spiders. There were spiders everywhere. Men and women were fleeing their homes with wine-spiders on their heels, only they were wrong; eerie, black, swollen things, they launched themselves on anyone who wasn't fast enough, and left a trail of panicked, frenzied bodies in their wake.
Standing frozen, she tried desperately to get her feet moving. There were so many of them, and just one of her; with a sinking feeling in her gut, the Ancient raised her daggers and picked a target.
Voidweaver Spiders (Common - The Hollowed Grounds, Torchline, Halo): The once-useful Wine Spiders have become Voidweavers, their once-drunk demeanor replaced with a malevolent hunger. They spin webs of void energy, ensnaring anything that comes too close. Their venom induces nightmares, trapping victims in a perpetual state of terror.
The pottery was gone, as was the houses on either side of it. Across the street another building still burned. Burning meteors had hit her home dead on and only a season's worth of rain kept the whole neighborhood from being caught in the explosion and fire that followed. Only luck had kept her from dying. That, and being fire proof; nicks and scratches marred her from top to toe however, and being flung across the room had her bruised and aching all over.
Someone patted her on the shoulder, and a man's gruff voice informed her that the chain would move on. Off to assist with the other fire. Maea nodded wearily and waved him off. Remaining before the ashes of her home, wiping blood and tears from her eyes, she was too numb to think of what to do next. Help, probably. Do what Grounders had always done and hang in there, endure, rebuild. She found it such an ingrained part of herself that she hadn't even hesitated to join the effort to protect the rest of the town, despite complaining to Harper about how little she cared.
It kept her going.
Dragging herself up on her feet again, Maea approached the burned out husk of the building. Debris of wood and stone blocked the path and made it hard to get around. Most things were ruined. Clothes, pottery, the kiln, all the furniture - gone. Dust and ashes and more dust. The heat was intense enough that her clothes smoldered on her very skin, yet enveloped her like a comfortable embrace. Impractical. Maybe fireproof clothing would be a marketable product for Ancients... this was hardly the time for that, though.
A glimmer of sooty steel caught her eye. Half buried beneath a layer of charred wood, Maea found her daggers. A bit of rummaging produced the compass, miraculously intact; the bag they were stored in was ruined though. Sighing, she picked her way out of the building. In the distance, flames were dying down and people were starting to look at each other, finally given a moment to process. Above, the clear sky remained streaked with an otherworldly purple that did not fade.
Down the street, a voice cried out. Followed soon by a second, then a third voice. The absolute terror in the sound had Maea sprinting down the cobbled road before she could stop to think, and the scene she found as the rounded a corner was one of mayhem.
Spiders. There were spiders everywhere. Men and women were fleeing their homes with wine-spiders on their heels, only they were wrong; eerie, black, swollen things, they launched themselves on anyone who wasn't fast enough, and left a trail of panicked, frenzied bodies in their wake.
Standing frozen, she tried desperately to get her feet moving. There were so many of them, and just one of her; with a sinking feeling in her gut, the Ancient raised her daggers and picked a target.
Voidweaver Spiders (Common - The Hollowed Grounds, Torchline, Halo): The once-useful Wine Spiders have become Voidweavers, their once-drunk demeanor replaced with a malevolent hunger. They spin webs of void energy, ensnaring anything that comes too close. Their venom induces nightmares, trapping victims in a perpetual state of terror.
Light is easy to love
Show me your darkness
Show me your darkness
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
