Paracount Julistar

Errit Dramly's page

6 posts. Alias of verdigris.


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Elyanias Myoch wrote:

"Errit." Rhymes with merit, and inherit. What has your life merited thus far, fallen father? What will the world inherit from your having lived in it? "I feel the renewal of energies at the start of each day, speaking remembrances and well-wishes. Makes me able." Eli stumbles on what to say next.

"Have you been... able? You know, to renew your energies?" And with it, learn what your god thinks about you today?

Errit watches his feet, and he is slow to look Eli in the face, but eventually he does so, a resigned despair writ across his features. "No, My Lady of Valor has not seen fit to gift me this day, not that I can blame her."

He lifts his holy symbol, now cleaned of his previous sacrilege, placing a reverent kiss upon it all the same. "Perhaps, some day."


Errit startles as Ely talks to him. As of yet,the others have had little to say to the wayward priest.

"uh? Errit. My name is Errit."


"I doubt that She would have me now. Our Lady of Valor needs no cowards in her forces." He shifts, looking for something. Whatever it is, he doesn't find it and instead slumps into a morose heap.


The man shakes his head at the mere thought of touching another scale. "N-noo. I don't...." He stutters, then sobs. Finally, he stops, his voice going as hollow as an empty grave. "When I landed, Grrgl... err, the goat demon was there when I woke in that abbysal pocket he'd conjured. But one of these was there. He called it a "suicide waifer". He told me I could either eat it and be turned instantly into a slime of nothing, or uhh... " He turns his face away and vomits, rather than voice the other choice; the one he took.


Errit's hand trembles as he accepts the scale. His mouth opens wide in awe as the image of Terendelev's sacrifice begins to play through his head. Suddenly he jerks and dropping the scale as he pulls the hand up as tight to himself as he can. He whimpers as the pain of the images and his betrayal burn him more than the charred brand of the scale now burned into his hand.


The priest tugs at his bonds, then sags, looking up at those gathered around. "Wha? Why didn't you let me die?"