RP:Sister Solarus

Summary: In an attempt to sway the people, Raevyn takes on her new persona and tests the waters in Larket. (Solo)

Date: May 9th, 2018

Larket Town Square

The townsfolk gave the newcomer cautious and unsettling stares at first. They weren't quite sure what to make of this stranger whom had come clad in red and gold and black. Her face was concealed behind a youthful, featureless gold mask, while a sickly looking scythe was clamped in her silk-gloved hands. She, for the most part, had been standing off to the side of the main road in Larket, speaking of miracles and things that most would dare not say in a town so bathed in the fear of the unknown. "Rejoice! For the time of new wonders is upon us! A blessing! A Cure! Come, come, hear the account of things that may save this flourishing city from that deathly curse!" While most had written the woman off as some sort of raving lunatic, others seemed to stop to listen in.

"What are ye speaking of?" asked one man who was burly, bearded and covered in soot. "A cure? Is it true?" came from another whom had been hidden amongst the growing crowd. The robed woman nodded as she explained. "Yes! Rejoice! Our beloved King Macon took his only begotten child to the temple of Vakmatharas! There, he pleaded with the God of Death to save his child, to show mercy upon the innocent, and to help the people of Larket!" A concerned whispering amongst the gathered slowly rose like a wave. "Vakmatharas? Madness! Surely she speaks in jest!" The whispering is silenced as the mysterious robed woman lifts a single hand, the golden embroidery of her garb twinkling in the light of the day's noon sun. "I hear the doubt. Vakmatharas?! Heresy! Unthinkable, you say! But, dear citizens, I speak of truth. Do not let the deeds of misguided followers taint your convictions! Listen to the story in which I tell, draw from it the real nature of this God that you so fear!"

While some would stay to listen, others in the small crowd began to grow restless. Worried. Angered, perhaps. Some would want no more of this nonsense and simply wander off, while others threatened the robed woman with bodily harm should she continue. Had it not been for those interested in what the stranger had to say, those speaking up for the others to remain calm, it was indeed possible that those threats would have been carried out. "As you know, the city of Larket has been under great distress! Foul witches placed upon our home a curse that aged many of our kin far beyond that in which they would desire. Expecting mothers murdered by their growing offspring! Many that were once youth, now adult, or have even grown frail as they settle into the ages of elders. It is tragedy!" The robed woman moved, fluid and airy, almost as if dancing with herself. The scythe planted into the dirt at her feet, one hand lifted to the sky. "Young Guillem as we all know had been affected by this curse. Yet unknown to even his parents, is that there was a terrible blight within the boy. A blight that threatened the young Prince's very life!" Hushed whispers, shock. "When King macon entered the temple, he spoke upon the Avatar of Vakmatharas! He pleaded with the forsaken God to intervene, to help in this hour of need. And upon Guillem did Vakmatharas look; And it was with heavy heart that he spoke. That to save Guillem's life, one must sacrifice their own in order to offer balance!" Red and gold and black swayed, the golden mask soon shifting from one perplexed face to the next. "King Macon was ready to lay down his own life! To make the ultimate sacrifice for our Prince! How brave and honorable is this man, our King? But lo and behold, from the inner sanctum of the temple, came one of Vakmatharas' priests."

Those that had been offended or considered the story drivel had, by now moved on, leaving the remaining number of citizens in awe and hanging off of the woman's every word. "What did this priest do? Go on! What happened?" various people called out. From behind that golden visage, painted lips of black began to grin. "He felt for the King's plight. The boy. And so, in place of our mighty ruler, the priest traded his life to save our King. To save our prince!" The robed woman, looked upon the sky above, another theatrical waving of her arms. "From above, Vakmatharas looked down upon the act HE was bare witness to. HE was so moved by the priest and the offering that the avatar began to weep! WEEP! Hark, from the firmament an angel was sent to escort the dying priest unto a paradise unlike that which we have seen! The angel was radiant! Light burning bright, so bright that King Macon had to turn his eyes! The angel soon made approach toward young Guillem and knelt; Face to face, eyes locked, it held a message for the young boy." Again voices would ring out. "An angel? an honest to Gods angel? From where did it come from? What did it do? Did it speak? What did it say?" The robed woman lowered her arms, pallid gaze shifting once again over the various faces before her. "The angel, it touched upon the young Prince's forehead and in this act, spoke unto the child's mind. It showed him wonders unlike anything we have ever seen. Wonder of what is to come for those worthy of HIS praise!"

"What wonders? What did it show him?!" he crowd echoed in return. However, the woman would speak no more of the tale. Not upon this day, at least. "That shall be revealed in good time. The King and Queen, our beloved rulers, and even the Prince himself will soon announce the nature of the visions. Rejoice! For the age of curse upon our home will soon be lifted! Spread this tale! Spread it far and wide; For those that believe in the power of the one who grants this gift, shall be rewarded in ways you can not imagine!" The gathered began to talk amongst themselves now, trying to figure out whether they should believe the words of this robed stranger. "Who are you? Where do you come from?" One citizen asked. "I am Sister Solarus, and I am an advisor to the crown; A speaker of salvation for Larket. I shall reveal more quite soon." The woman turns then and begins to wander the path leading toward the castle, calling out whilst she walks, to those whom had not heard. "Rejoice! Rejoice for the cure! For the saviour of our beloved city!"