Maeror wrote:
The City of Regret was founded in the early years of my reign by the Order of the same name, who had chosen for themselves the task of seeing that restless spirits find their way into the afterlife. From the City they went into the world, searching for ghosts and souls that wandered Eiran, and helping them find peace. They had begun to establish a colony on the nearby islands, which they named Grief.
Now, see what Undine has brought upon these followers of mine.
Quote:
Mist rises from the sea around the City of Regret and Grief, and through that mist your divine sight cannot discern what is happening. But the cries of death and battle, the sounding of horns and the sudden stream of souls reaching your realm from the City of Regret scream for your attention; it is from these unfortunate souls - almost the entire population of the City of Regret - that you learn of Undine's treachery: he has sent an army to attack your City, hidden it within the fog, inspired fear into the hearts of your people, and attacked from the sea with drakes and his navy, performing atrocities... ...dismembering your greatest followers there, or hanging them from gibbets, until the city was his and no worshiper of yours - man, woman or child - was left alive.
The Order of Regret may have been founded for a benign purpose. However their purpose now seems far from benign. By your own admission, a ship of their order sailed north into the mists that surround Eiran. You gave us no reason for this, but the results have been extremely disturbing. The fact that you asked about what surrounded Eiran earlier hinted that you had ordered this. The information I received at the time made it clear that this ship was dispatched on your orders.
A ship sails from the City of Regret, heading north, towards the mists that encircle the world. After months of navigation, upon first seeing the dreaded mists, the sailors begin to pray Maeror for deliverance, fearing that only death may await them beyond the mists. Yet they have a duty to perform, and none wishes to disappoint their god. So onward they sail, until the writhing, cold tendrils of the world-encircling mists stroke the ship's wooden hull like the fingers of a long-dead lover, and shapes unlike any the sailors have ever seen seem to form and dissipate in the grayness beyond. Faintly, it seems to them as if screams could be heard, blood-curdling and horrified beyond comprehension; the sailors' fright grows, but still they continue, knowing without a doubt, now, that they cannot turn back anymore. The sailors whisper a last prayer to Maeror... and then disappear from your sight, swallowed by the mists.
This then led to:
You suddenly realize a strange disturbance at the edges of the world - the endless mists are boiling and rolling furiously, as if wrathful or in pain. The very water of the oceans, when coming into contact with them, sizzles and writhes, and strange shapes appear from time to time as shadows behind the mists
What have you done?
As for the atrocities committed, those descriptions sound remarkably similar to what happened my followers in Porsulis after you took that island over. Perhaps my followers were exacting their own revenge for that incident? Or for the fact that you devoured the souls of their brethren , or sent them screaming into a rift to ?where?
PLEASE do not play the innocent here, Maeror. I am not, and have never claimed to be, whiter than white in my actions. But those actions are squeaky clean beside some of your foul deeds.