The Coming of the Destroyer [Balor]
Ruchi Vael'kyn, Yathrin d'lil Qu'ellar
The slender drow's naked body lay twisted among her pillows. She kept turning, thrashing and trying to find a comfortable position. Ruchi felt anxiety flow through her body: a painful, draining sensation that would not end. She flipped the pillow endless times to get closer to the cooler side, but frustratingly, it quickly warmed anew each time. The few times sleep arrived, it was brief, plagued with the most terrifying nightmares. Alas, morning came, and Ruchi felt like death when she got out of her sweat-soaked bed. What was that dream she had? Fuck, I forgot. Ruchi was a cleric and a seer. Her job was literally to see. How could she let this one slip at such a pivotal moment? She sat down, crossed her legs, and emptied her thoughts, trying to pacify her racing heart. "Behold the end of days. The coming of the destroyer." Ruchi immediately received the threatening voice of a thousand dying drow. Her eyes widened, her mouth became dry, and she went into a violent coughing fit that lasted what seemed like ages. He was coming. He was close. The Balor. "My fault." Tears flowed down her cheeks. "And Zynrae's" she added with a whisper, her lip quivering. He hates me because of my mercy. Had she not wanted to foster the tiniest plant of hope here, on the blood-soaked, Lolth-dominated stones of Blackrock in Elashinn? She had achieved the opposite. She would bring doom to them all. Except, there was someone. Someone bigger than her. Far bigger. If only she would hear her. Fuck. Ruchi set her hand to the scroll, and having finished, she went forth to bind her witness upon every high place and gate within Elashinn.
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