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  • I officially retired from role play writing last year so if it sucks I'm rusty and I don't really plan on greasing these particular wheels

  • Please no meta-gaming this one unless your toon is that old. If so, please let me know.

The darkened nothingness filled her senses until voices in an unknown tongue protruded and motion was made. The dialect was new to her as she lay motionless
in her death-pose in the dark of her resting place. Ancient ears picked up the sound of primitive tools picking away at the seals that had kept her subdued in
solace for more years than she'd been able to keep track of in the dark.

Heavy stone ground across the heavier stone encasement as a sliver of firelight streaked in on her decay. The flood of sensory data after such resolute
deprivation seared the very bones that supported the leathered and greyed flesh. Pain, unbearable agony, though she could do nothing to emit her distaste but
rage internally. Robed and bound figures circled calmly making way for a female figure dressed as quite the primitive queen.

"Oh dear-" the female uttered in the dead's own dialect, low, clam, mocking care with a nearly oppressive and omnipotent tone. In the unknown
dialect a question was posed to the speaker in that unknown tongue as the primitive queen replied leaning forward to eye down at the dead "Not the one I
was hoping to find, however I am quite sure I can make use of you." a dismissive waver of her hand as she seethed in that foreign tongue and her lessors
sprung into action to restore the sleeping dead to it's former glory.

A process that would take weeks; the muttered chanting did little but teach her a handful of their words. Despite the restoration, she remained still as a
stone in her place. Once more that primitive queen slithered forth to utter down on her "Come now child- rise." a light annoyed sigh and appalled
glance as the creature disobeyed her order. "You will be removed to the daylight if you do not obey me." seething as she spoke in a more aggressive
tone and yet the creature refused her demands. Not a single twitch, nor a blink in reply.

In the language of her lessors she commanded her subordinates move the body out where it could greet the dawn. An interjection of warning from a newer recruit
resulted in splayed flesh as the queen screeched her knowing exactly what would happen to the motionless one. And so- she would greet the day uncaring and
without war against those beating hearts she herself thought no better than cattle.

The eve was in full bloom as subtle winds fluttered by her, warming the chill her dead-like state had become so accustomed to. Dawn slowly approaching drew a
pinkish line across the horizon and she accepted that soon she would be little more than ash to blow about those warmed winds. How long would one have to
spend in a box before the will to live would run dry? She asked herself internally as a sharp pain and shatter of her rib under the toe of a boot struck her in
her contemplation "Get Up." one of the robe clad subordinates demanded.

"Why?" she replied in his own language as her blood red view turned to him. "Why would you not?" a foolish and mortal attempt at logic as
her eyes turned back to stare up at the sky. Not long now she thought returning to the waiting for that burning yellow orb to breach. A frustrated grumble
from the robed as he sunk to his knee to obscure her view "The sun is not the only thing on the horizon. A great war is about to erupt. The goddess
wishes your kind to stand at her side just as her adversaries would." another dull blink of those eyes "so?" she dryly asked of the mortal.

"Why die a fool- when you could die a martyr?" his final question as he rose back to his feet and drifted back through the winding halls to service
his goddess. At first she sneered in retort but as she settled back into waiting the truth in those final words struck a chord deep within her. Stiffened
joints and tired muscle tissues strained as she sat up and righted herself. A single step only to hold pause canting her neck to pop the vertebrae in her neck
and adjust her purpose.

The goddess herself sat draped over a grand throne in an open room mulling over herself as her subjects fluttered, muttered and went about their demanded
roles. The primitive demure shifting with a half smirk playing to her lip "So... you finally decided to join me." her eyes meeting those deadened
soulless ones as the lessor goddess stood in the center of the great room. With a slightly awkward tick she drew an unneeded breath, parting her lips as if to

A primitive brow raised immediately before the host flung forward leaving the goddess in her true form for all her subordinates to see. "Such
hostility." the goddess ticked speaking with a more omnipotent tone, her host scurrying away in half horror and half disbelief. "I fail to see how
resurrecting the dead is by any means- hostile." the partially visible form of the goddess slowly descending the stairs to circle the one who dared.
"You cannot defeat me, leech." she pausing to hiss a mere inch away from those red eyes. "This much I am aware but tell me, witch" her
darkened view shifting lightly in pause "can you- defeat me?"

This challenge posed did not please the Goddess in any of her forms as she ticked up a finger to signal her bowmen. In seconds the dead was inundated with
bolt and arrow past the bring as she bled and crumpled to her knees on the floor at the Goddess' feet. "You- are far to frail to be useful to me
anyhow." she mentioned while eyes sharpened down at the crumpled figure. "Agreed." the dead, bloodied impaled figure replied as bolt and arrow
fell to the floor around her as she took up a momentary green aura that repaired the damage she'd taken.

Once more the dead rose slowly to her feet, eyes meeting with the goddess at her level. "But you haven't defeated me." Volley after volley
would hit their mark and each crumple to her knees would go the same. The goddess tired of the charade quickly adding in her own assaults but with each fall
the dead would continue to rise. No part of her actually raising a finger to return the war, merely refusing to stay down. "This is beneath me."
giving in to the words of the lesser goddess as she pointed toward the hall leading to freedom.

"And yet, you continued after the first time I got up." a rather snide and brave remark despite being overpowered. Red eyes drifting beyond the
primitive to what now sat as a bloodied room littered with followers that had stood too near their Goddess during her attempts. That hollow view surveying the
bodies before singling one out of the hundred or so and once more she drew breath and muttered unknown words. The body of that robed figure from earlier
lifting into the air, righting as he drew breath once more.

"You are no more goddess than I am." she uttered passing by the frustrated goddess to admire the now living follower "Martyrs tend to die for
their causes. Tell me-" turning away to walk the hall to freedom "did that count?"