Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20160105194819/@comment-26809040-20160224000558

The cargo hold of Stormship Elkris-fel stank faintly of ether. All about the frenzied crowd below, lesser servitors moved, turning the corpses of dissenters into ether for the loyal. Across the entirety of the storm fleet, this scene repeated, those who spoke out against the murder of House Judgment’s scribe lay dead, torn apart by the fury of crowds of their former fellows. Srivikiss's address had been broadcast across the entire fleet, and its effect had been as a ripple of rage and ether.

The archon stood atop the balcony, staring at the empty skull of Ekriax in his grasp, as he drank deep of the ether that was once her being.

It tasted rich as faith and cool as vengeance.

With a roar, the zealot crushed the skull in hand, drawing the attention of the crowds below.

"See now Storms! See how the unraveler hath corrupted our house! See how judgment sought to turn us against each-other! But they thought us foolish and weak! Unable to see their wretched plot or stand against it! They knew not the cunning nor the might of House Storms! And for their grave misjudgment, they hath paid!"

"Offer thy thanks to the hallowed prime, storms! See how, even now, Elkris prime's devout turn the dead of traitors to ether for the faithful! And forget not thy Kell! Neiksis, who doth guide us to glory once more! Hold faith, kin, our salvation cometh upon the dawn!"

As the crowds roared below, Srivikiss turned, and paced back through the door from which he came, now certain of the house's loyalty.

Below, Rhall worked his way through the throng of frenzied eliksni, seeking to speak to Srivikiss before the kell.