A Gruesome Scene

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Posts: 12
Character: Otis Mercer

A Gruesome Scene

Post by GoRRiK » April 12th, 2024, 12:22 pm

The Guards and Fort Citizens gossip and cry at the scene they just witnessed.

From the rugged expanse of the frontier, where the winds whispered tales of old and the sky stretched wide and boundless, the gates of Fort Praesidium approach the horizon, a bastion of strength and resilience against the untamed wilds. Within its sturdy walls, soldiers stood vigilant, guarding the realm against the perils that lurked beyond.

On this morning, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, a solitary figure approached the gates of Fort Praesidium. Clad in robes of crimson, Father Otis, a humble priest known for his unwavering faith and compassion, bore a burden unlike any other—a charred corpse, wrapped in a ash-stained white robe a victim of the unforgiving flames that had ravaged her poor soul.

With solemn determination etched upon his weathered features, Father Otis stepped through the gates, the weight of sorrow heavy upon his shoulders. Behind him, the soldiers of Fort Praesidium watched in shocking silence, their eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight as they bore witness to the solemn procession.

Through the dusty streets of the fort, Father Otis carried the remains, his steps steady and sure despite the weight of his burden. The night air was thick with a sense of mourning, a tangible reminder of the fragility of life in the face of the passion's wrath.

As they reached the heart of the fort, Father Otis was met by the shock and tears, they looked on in horror. With a solemn nod, Father Otis walked on barely holding onto the burden. To a sacred spot within the fort—the final resting place for those lost to tragedy and time.

In the flickering light of torches, Father Otis performed the sacred rites, his voice a steady murmur against the backdrop of the night. With each prayer offered, he sought solace for the departed soul, a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

And as the sun rose once more, painting the sky in hues of red and gold, the memory of Father Otis and his solemn procession lingered—a testament to the enduring power of compassion and community in even the darkest of times.

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