The Road Home - Plot Suppliment Story #1

Hi everyone!

As part of my ongoing side plot, I'll be posting short stories which contain/supplement PC obtained information, as well as fly on the wall scenes that PCs would not normally be privy to. There will be two distinct story sets following the main elements of the plot. Both sets will be posted on the forums with the same subject (The Road Home) to make it easy to search, and the story set will be identified in the body of the post. Where appropriate, I will endeavor to include content warnings if I touch on any difficult topics, as you'll see below. If you have any questions, plans, or ideas, please reach out to me via FB Messenger.


CW: self harm, mention of torture/murder(undetailed)

Esmeralda picked her way through the rubble, gingerly navigating the treacherous terrain. She was alone here, the rest of her contingent housed nearby away from the sun’s destructive rays. Though she stood in ruins, her minds eye clearly saw the walls and lavish adornments that once made up her childhood home. Long ago, the Emperor’s palace had been a wonder to behold. Standing in its ashes, she fully understood what the Malagan line had wrought. She cursed Obsidia for their part in this, but gave it no teeth. Dealing with their eastern neighbor would be difficult enough in the time to come. But it did not absolve them of the kidnapping and subsequent warping of Ariana. Did not absolve them of the war which followed when she returned to claim the kingdom for her own. Did not absolve them of this, all of this, the aftermath of her father’s battle with his great aunt that saw the Argenti empire destroyed and its people scattered to the four winds. Homeless, destitute, their culture and identity in tatters, her people still roamed the lands and seas always seeking, but never finding.

Esmeralda was jerked out of her reverie by a great wracking sob. Crumpling to her knees in front of the ruined dais, she buried her face in her hands and wept. Every tear that had been left unshed over the long and tortuous years was spent now in this hideous, uncontrollable lament. She cried for herself, for her father, for every life he had destroyed. She beat the ground, screaming for the crimes committed in her name until her voice broke. She cursed the fate that had sent her on that doomed voyage, the Isle, and the disease which had mutated inside of her. She raged and tore into the flesh which had locked her on the brink of full adulthood for so many hundreds of years.

It was hours before the worst of it had passed from her. She lay curled up on the ground, mutilated arms hugging her knees to her chest, staring into the setting sun with raw eyes that had seen too much, and not enough. She vaguely registered the sounds of movement from behind her, but would not tear her gaze from the figure picked out in the final glowing dust motes of the day. The shade of her grandfather, the last Emperor of Argentia, stared down at her and reached out his hand. As the sun sank below the horizon he disappeared, and her sobs began anew.

Cold, dexterous hands lifted her from the ground, cradling her against an unmoving chest swathed in embroidered satin. She burrowed into the enveloping arms, the chill of the grave a balm on her swollen face. Anabelle’s lilting chant began softly in her ear, growing ever louder until it echoed off of every tumbled stone. Ever a stark contrast to the darkness inside her, Ana’s angelic voice soothed the ache in Esmeralda’s heart. Listening to her sing, there was no question of why Pesmerga had slaughtered Ana’s parents and absconded with the young woman. He had taken Ana’s greatest gift to the world and perverted it, tortured it and twisted it along with her body and mind until she could suffer no longer. When he killed her, he did it not to free her, but to damn her eternal, bringing forth the remorseless, sadistic banshee that had served her family for so long. Ana’s list of crimes was near as long and as revolting as Pesmerga’s. But in the days after his final death they had made a solemn vow. All that they had left in this world was each other. Their only ties to families and lives lost and destroyed. From the depths of their grief they had sworn they would not lose each other too.

As she was carried away Esmeralda groped at every rock and tree within reach, leaving a trail of harsh vermillion in their wake. ‘In blood, I vow. In blood, I vow. I will bring my people home. I will build for them a land which will flourish and grow. I will build for them a kingdom of the living, forever free of my father’s curse. In blood, I vow. In blood, I vow. I will bring my children home.’


To hear Anabelle’s song in the palace of the Emperor, click here:

(Hildegard von Bingen’s O Coruscans Lux Stellarum, Psalms 10 In Domino Confido – sung by Barbara Zanichelli of the Ensemble San Felice)