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From: Serrin
Date: 13 Dec 1999
Time: 14:41:06
The Citadel lay in darkness, empty like the carcass of some huge malfean beast, with walls of bone and cracked hide. A place of illusions, what had one night appeared as solid granite was dissolved or like brittle parchment the next, although imbalance in the mind of the beholder was easily blamed for structural inconsistency. Johan Serrin had burrowed into this carrion only hours ago, but his mind was drained of free will already. His shadow toyed with him mercilessly, unable or unwilling to take control but savouring his weakness to the fullest. Images of war played behind his eyes, promising him eternal rest if only he let go of the idiotic thoughts of duty. The only release was through surrender, and he knew it all along. He knew he was a fool for ever trying.
O b l i v i o n
Wandering the halls was the only thing he could do to keep his thoughts reasonably straight while he waited for the permission to leave the Citadel and his post. The ghostly walls were silent, until a faint echo of murmurs from a nearby hollow reached his ears. The voices were creaking and deep, but unknown to him -“…you know that is unacceptable…” was the only meaning Johan could extract from the interwoven voices, although an air of gravity hung over every funereal syllable. Stopped in his tracks out of simple curiosity, he felt the darkness renewing its assault. It was right, he didn’t belong here. Remembering the sweet embrace of the soul-storm, it could once more feel like home…
O b l i v i o n
The precise clang of an iron door being shut tore Johan out of his black reverie. Two disembodied souls passed by the end of the hallway in which he stood, slowly letting their ancient corpora slip over the stone floor. On the first of the pair Johan recognized the face of Harper, Iron Overlord and Master of the Forge, his thin gray hair mirroring his empty, sinewy body. The second shape was an old woman, clad in white robes like a wedding gown or cerement. Her drawn face was austere, yet Joe happened to catch her eye as she was about to pass from his field of vision beyond the solid death-wall here in the Citadel core. Her glance twisted to a snarl as she noticed his distress, and the rictus grin and blackened eyes of the woman burned into his soul for a split second, before he was left staring at the soot-black wall. The chains hanging from the walls screamed in agony, as the spirit of Joe weightlessly sped through the hallway towards a descending staircase.