Achaean News
A Sending
Written by: Augur Fetzer
Date: Monday, October 30th, 2000
Addressed to: Everyone
Dearest Citizenry,
My mind tired mind and fatigued body can barely function in the
renewed onslaught of the Sight. This is Her most recent sending.
I see one large candle, lit with a bright blue flame. Three other
candles are started from it. The first one snuffed out. One candle
is soft in glow and mild in heat. The second burns steady and quick
never faltering or flaring. The third is bright and tempts to disbatch
the darkness about it in one self-destructive flash. Three from
one.
I see two opposing horizons. Mounted on one side upon the ridge,
backlit in the demonic red of brimstone filtered light, stands the
limitless horde of some grand and unfathomable army. At the
forefront of this army is a banner, a field of black with a seven
pointed star in that same brimstone red emerging from restful sleep. One
the other ridge, an army no less ponderous, a sea of men and metal, overwhich
hangs the soothing natural light of the sun, the vessel of life-giving light.
Held forth by this army is a banner of white with the blue figure of some
exotic bird rising into the sky. The tension is thick like fog. There
will be bloodshed, today.
I see a place of perfect blackness, my feet find purchace but my eyes
cannot reason how. I turn, there is a pocket, as if an enclosure formed
of this blackness containing a bubble of light, it is dim and flickering.
It illuminates a tired soul, worn, but not through age, but by some
terrible trial. His eyes address me, the light fails and is
extinguished.
I am tired, I go to rest now in search of dreamless sleep,
Your Augur Fetzer
Penned by my hand on the 19th of Lupar, in the year 261 AF.
A Sending
Written by: Augur Fetzer
Date: Monday, October 30th, 2000
Addressed to: Everyone
Dearest Citizenry,
My mind tired mind and fatigued body can barely function in the
renewed onslaught of the Sight. This is Her most recent sending.
I see one large candle, lit with a bright blue flame. Three other
candles are started from it. The first one snuffed out. One candle
is soft in glow and mild in heat. The second burns steady and quick
never faltering or flaring. The third is bright and tempts to disbatch
the darkness about it in one self-destructive flash. Three from
one.
I see two opposing horizons. Mounted on one side upon the ridge,
backlit in the demonic red of brimstone filtered light, stands the
limitless horde of some grand and unfathomable army. At the
forefront of this army is a banner, a field of black with a seven
pointed star in that same brimstone red emerging from restful sleep. One
the other ridge, an army no less ponderous, a sea of men and metal, overwhich
hangs the soothing natural light of the sun, the vessel of life-giving light.
Held forth by this army is a banner of white with the blue figure of some
exotic bird rising into the sky. The tension is thick like fog. There
will be bloodshed, today.
I see a place of perfect blackness, my feet find purchace but my eyes
cannot reason how. I turn, there is a pocket, as if an enclosure formed
of this blackness containing a bubble of light, it is dim and flickering.
It illuminates a tired soul, worn, but not through age, but by some
terrible trial. His eyes address me, the light fails and is
extinguished.
I am tired, I go to rest now in search of dreamless sleep,
Your Augur Fetzer
Penned by my hand on the 19th of Lupar, in the year 261 AF.