Absolute Power

the VOICE In reality's shadow the blind see best Folding her hands before her, hair and dress billowing about her as if she were weightless, or underwater, the Voice listened carefully to what the Launceleyn had to say. Her smile was indulgent - she knew well of the place where Zariah was from, having cultivated and selected and plucked through those she deemed worthy. And the Northaven crowd had not disappointed. Her nose wrinkled, ever so slightly, as the Abandoned continued. "Trapped," she corrected. "Never captured." Spreading her hands, the Voice was silent for a moment, as if pulling the memories through from a hidden bank. "War," she said. "The oversight was engaging in open warfare. We were pushed back, within these Hollowed Grounds, and before we were able to regroup the gods combined their efforts to raise the barrier." Smirking now, she glanced back at the Launceleyns. "Our situations are very different, though. You would be wise not to engage with those whom the Old Gods love. You would also be wise to remember who brought you to this land, child. I plucked you into this world, and I can put you back."