Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20160105194819/@comment-26809040-20160121101653



A long hallway stretched before a figure, clean yet barren. Lacking in bits and crates only because there was no one around to be untidy. The only things to be seen in the long hall were tattered house banners, edges frayed by time and neglected out of necessity. A disgrace. The barren hall stretched onwards down the spine of the ketch, like a hollow shell, devoid of life.

Empty. It was empty. Devoid of clutter and chatter. Cold and hollow and dead.

The archon brooded as he walked, sipping cold ether from his mask. Of course, it was not that no one ever walked these halls. The crew had been called to the main cargo hold by his peer, for a reason even he could not fathom. Yes, there was a crew. Far less than there should be, but the desolate hall reflected the state of the house, not just the crew.

The storms were dying. Withering and fraying at the edges, until only the toughest threads had yet to unravel. They had been so for a while. Rhall hadn't bothered to keep track of how long. Nobles and commoners turned their backs, cast off their cloaks, until only a barren and hollow shell of a house remained, held together by those too loyal or foolish to leave.

Which was he? He once would have considered the question unthinkable, yet now found himself pondering it more and more. He was born to the storms, devoted to Elkris prime, loyal to his house. To leave is to abandon faith. And without faith, there is no guidance, no ether, no purpose. He stayed because his loyalty was not that of barons or captains; faith through fear, seeking weakness to usurp those above you. No, his loyalty was true faith, devotion to a god. His god. The patron of the storms. That was why he stayed.

Only a few nobles remained amongst the storms ranks, and the crews of ketches were half their full sizes at best. Few barons, fewer archons, A kell, A prime, and no priest. Even amongst those who stayed, Elkris prime had not seen one fit to be named archon priest. The kell, Neiksis, was secluded, little involving his nobles in his plans. And the prime was in despair, for its children fled and fought amongst themselves as it's house fell to ruin.

There was a silent agreement amongst most of the remaining nobles: something had to be done. Something drastic. The old and powerful house storms was barely holding on, easy prey for rivals and outsiders. It was no great secret that the kell believed that a preemptive strike was in order, but no one was sure whether or not the rest of the house agreed. Both Rhall and Srivikiss agreed that with proper convincing, the house would be united in this cause.

This thought crossed Rhall's mind as he stepped through an oversized hatch to the main cargo hold of the flagship, where Srivikiss had called a meeting of all nonessential crew for an undisclosed reason.