[Flashback-Temple of All Gods] Boiled Out (Solo)

[Zlakalia]

(7th of Fall, 508AV) It was dark. Covered torches burned out niches of light around her, thought, illuminating the wet cobblestone of the streets below. Rain still was tinkling, quiet and somber as it continued its sad work. Zlakalia looked up at the blackness above; the sun had set more than a bell ago so the sky was more a black veil that threatened to capture you and never release its hold. Zlakalia caught sight of her reflection in a puddle below. Her cape was down and the reflection was shocking. 'That can't be me.' Zlakalia knew she had changed since she left Zeltiva and her form was drastically different, but this is the first time she had seen it herself. She had even refused to look down at herself on the travel over, didn't want to focus on what she'd become. 'What am I?' she thought to herself. 'Which parts are the true me now?' She could still feel the changes. Zlakalia face was taller, more like a mask than a face. Her nose was gone, the skin stretched flat and smooth. Her hair, usually in dozens of long tendrils, was warped into just four long tentacles instead. And her body was weird, not longer human looking, twisted into a mix of a spider and some kind of rodent. Zlakalia pulled her cloak tight around the body and put the hood up, hiding the disfigured lower half. She was ashamed, embarrassed of what she'd become. 'The gods made me a monster.' Zlakalia also heaved around a heavy book beneath her cloak, held up by a bunch of small insect-like arms ending in rat paws. She kept having to have her lower hands pass it up to the higher ones as it slipped, the book in constant motion. The book itself was bound in leather and smelled of age and also of burnt flesh. The title of the book 'Valterrian Cataclysm: The Chronicles of the Wars of Gods and Men' was unusually burned into the leather and then painted but the paint was flecked and nearly all missing. She had read it several times and needed to return it to the traveler she borrowed it from soon. Zlakalia looked up from her thoughts at the building in front of her, the building she was looking for. The cathedral before her was a huge sickening display, the tall tower like a servant reaching up to his cruel masters. The stone walls were impressive, but more an impressive display of the ability for other races to grovel and cry to their petty gods. This is disgusting! Zlakalia approached the older wooden doors, the cracked frame slightly warped from the weather and barely illuminated from the torches on each side. She didn't know why she was here, the thoughts still were formulating within.

[Zlakalia]

Zlakalia shoved at the heavy doors, swiveling sharply on the tarnished hinges. Her main hands weren’t much longer than the other smaller ones so she had to use the bulk of her frame, an aggressive exertion of energy to get the door open. As it opened the hinges creaked loudly but shrill, like a woman’s scream heard from far off. ‘This is their fault. They’re too disorganized, uncivilized, monstrous. Even moreso than I am. The gods AND the people who worship them. Zlakalia wasn’t here for solace or prayer, she now knew. What she was seeking were answers. This is my chance to find out why. The church was nearly empty at this late hour. Before her the room was pulled back past the various pews. Candles were burning and heating the air, light flickering with every breeze like small demons intent on escaping their wax prisons. Zlakalia’s many legs hit the ground near silently as she began to scuttle forward, not even noisy enough to echo. The pews were more than triple her height, wooden seats looming more like strange monoliths than anything useful. She walked with forceful purpose though, speeding towards the stage and nondescript altar at the front. Zlakalias’s face was twisted in rage as she reached the altar, the small figure standing before the impressively large stage in front of her. The twists were more literal on her face though, the skin pulling down around her forehead and her mouth growing small sharp teeth. The shining alter in front of her was a greedy display that showed the buyer’s true intentions. Rather than a place of worship Zlakalia saw this as an appeasement, a sad display to convince others more than the user's self. ‘The gods didn’t care for us, nor we for them. It’s all a stupid game!’ Zlakalia tossed the book now, her cloak falling off her shoulders and down behind her. It crashed to the ground with a loud bang, stone floors and thick leather struggled against one another in their short-lived fight. At last the book lay on its side, half open revealing its pages. Zlakalia stood for a second, letting her own frame just pulse with energy that seemed to flood through her. She screamed out at the altar, her voice dripping with the same rage her face showed. “Why don’t you care?!? You filthy animals made me like this, made all my species so fickle and goalless! We meant something, we were weapons! Now we’re nothing!” She knew she must have been attracting attention from some of the few pigs who were still worshiping these joke gods, but it didn't matter. Of course no answer followed her outburst. The book sat on the ground, so smug. It was staring at her revealed form, laughing at her even. Zlakalia could almost hear the laughter, the sickening noise flooding her mind as though it were echoing through the halls itself. She bared her teeth at the book, felt herself tense up. Next thing she knew she was on top of the book, ripping out the pages and screaming. “Everyone is going to stop laughing at me, stop widening their eyes when they see me! I am BEAUTIFUL! I am STRONG! AND I WILL PROVE IT!” With every phrase she pounded down further. Her many hands tore at the fragile paper, pulled it into her mouth where she gnashed it, she jumped up and down on the book. She was going to end it. Zlakalia was tired. She was tired of the gods. Tired of the people on the streets and throughout the city. Tired of this stupid church and silent gods. The book lay in shreds in front of the altar and she shrunk to the ground in front of it. The church was strangely silent as she stared down at her work. Zlakalia could see the shreds of paper and she felt unfamiliar thoughts raise in her mind. ‘You ARE meant for something. Keep looking at the book before you. Touch one of the pieces. Pick a few up. She followed the directions unerringly, hands now holding bits of paper. ‘Now read them to yourself.’ The words were clear before her: BROKEN, THE GODS, WAR, THE VAL-, DID NOW HAVE AN-, HEADED TO-, BETRAYAL AND DEATH. ‘It makes so much sense!’ Ideas filled her head, she knew she had to find a way to make them pay. Zlakalia needed to travel, needed to leave Syliras soon. The god’s silence was even more proof of their guilt. She wasn’t sure where or how, but it was time to find a purpose. Zlakalia ran out of the church, as quick as her legs would carry her.

[Growl]

Appreciation Time! Name: Zlakalia Experience: +2 Observation, +1 Rhetoric Lore: Studying Your Body, Everything Changes, Growing Tired of the Gods Additional Notes: PM with questions or concerns.