The Pillars of Salt Weep
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It began with a declaration of war, from the mouth of Belon, in response to the Church of Cyric's abuses of their newfound authority over death.
Lines were drawn in the sand, intrigue, conflict, massacre and death spread upon the effigies of battle.
Whisper, a beloved High Priest- respected and feared, butchered in response to the massacre of Amberfield, where all were slain down to the last.
It was war, a war of faith, and the two sides could not be bitterer foes.
Yet, Belon's allies, once again, grew war weary, tired of his antics, tired of his constant aggression, his need for confrontation, and the King, in a rare ploy of political wiles, sought to capitalize on it.
He made the Order of Aster abandon Belon, as they marched with two hundred odd families willing to leave, or able to, the Bishopric to the Church of the True Sun, where the two clasped hands in fellowship- to once more renew the battle against evil as brothers instead of estranged cousins.
Upon the day of the final battle. Belon set out, mounted in his armor, ill-fitting yet luminescent. Four stood beside him, his Crusaders of the Last Stand. Brothers to him, who would die on the hill of Principles than fall to the Valleys of Compromise.
The church of Talona, an odd ally in the fight against evil, struck first, summoning an Efreeti of great power to burn down the camp. Many burned alive till it was driven away or slain, where Cruscos emerged from his burning tent to rally the survivors and as a mass, marched upon the Hill of Principle.
Belon summoned a celestial host, using a sacred treasure of the Church, and as the murderers, vagabonds, thieves, cutthroats, and mercenaries fought, and fell, did the armored footsteps of the Obsidian Skulls cut through the servants of Celestia, where the Deliverance stood beside Belon, four souls willing to fight for what is right, where others had abandoned Belon in his hour of need.
Still, it would matter little, as Saeharice the Orbulent Conquerer, returned from death as an enslaved soul by Enlil the Necromancer, struck them down, and soon afterward, each Crusader Fell beneath the weight of bodies that they surrounded themselves by, eventually, slain.
Belon, at long last, found his life ended as well by the Axe of Krruush, Champion of Blood and Bones, some whisper the Chosen of Gruumsh himself as the orcan tribes of the many woods begin to gather in anticipation of a new Warlord- even if it is a mere halfbreed...
As the blood of heroes in their sanguine red soaked the hill, the host made for Eveningstar, greeted by the King and their new Baroness, Dawn.
Ser Cruscos acknowledged the King, and the monarch left- to begin ...renovations.
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However, some were unhappy with defeat.
Some, in fact, were bitter.
Some, held in their hands- a mean to take away the meat of the victory, and leave naught but poisoned bone.
Sabriel Florent, granted the Chalice of Jacob Eveningstar by Belon some moons ago, descended into the Sepulchre of the Saint.
A place that once housed the body and spirit of the Chosen of Lathander long ago, who founded the village, and saw it a safe place where the champions of good may defend.
She descended, and offered the chalice to the chained and bound Angel, Hezebel the Wise, her rotting carcass suspended off the ground by silver chains meant to suppress and bind.
The light broke the chains, and Sabriel- brave, foolish, and now reviled Sabriel of the Now Defunct, Dead House Florent, was turned to salt before she could lay witness to what her deed entailed to the land.
The angel slowly walked out of the tomb, attacked and harried by the Blood and Bone Tribe, desperately attacked by Inquisitor Kold Witness, desperately held back by swarms of undead made by Enlil, but nothing was enough.
Nothing could keep the Lady of Salt away from her Judgment, as she rose from the Sepulchre far beneath the world.
Her eyes opened, across rotting wings of pure white feathers. Across her angelic frame, eyes opened upon concentric rings, and as each eye opened, someone was judged.
And and in their place, a pillar of salt- with the etched expression of horror written upon their face.
The grass.
The trees.
The cows and chickens, their eggs and straw.
All turned to salt.
Purified, by the Light of Celestia.
Judgement came, and only those within the House of the Morning, now, the House of the Black Sun, were spared.
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The King declared House Florent Anathema to the Land.
Baroness Dawn, revealed that she no longer had to rule, hides in her palace.
The Queen is silent, mourning the loss of life and her friend.
The survivors of Eveningstar stand in numb silence, for the light of celestia- not the horrors of demons and madmen, is what betrayed them.
Friends dead. Family gone.
The earth is salted. Nothing can grow.
No wind blows. It is cold.
Silence.
Stillness.
And Hezebel has returned to Celestia. Her judgment complete.
