MOONTIDE QUARTET GURVON GYLE DEATHS FULL
MOONTIDE QUARTET GURVON GYLE DEATHS FREE

They became the Blessed Three Hundred, the first magi.ДЄbandoning CorinвЂ™s principles of love and peace to take revenge on the town (now conveniently remembered as a вЂwicked placeвЂ™) in an orgy of destruction. But there were survivors, and they were transfigured: each one had the power of a demi-god, wielding fire and storm, throwing boulders and channelling lightning. So did many of CorinвЂ™s followers, including Corin himself, murdered by his sister-lover Selene. What happened next passed into legend and became scripture: there were lights and voices, and the legion died, to a man, in a thousand different ways.

MOONTIDE QUARTET GURVON GYLE DEATHS FULL

That night CorinвЂ™s camp was surrounded by a full legion, and at midnight, the soldiers closed in to make the arrests. The army agreed that the time had come to end the blasphemies of Johan Corin and his followers.

His people swarmed over the countryside, marked out as troublemakers, until the day when they descended upon one particular township, who panicked and called upon a nearby legion camp for help. The lost and impressionable swarmed to him and his promises of salvation in the next life and endless debauchery in this one.

MOONTIDE QUARTET GURVON GYLE DEATHS FREE

Johan Corin travelled, preaching of free love and other such idyllic notions, attracting a band of followers that over time burgeoned into nearly a thousand young people. He abandoned the savage gentility of the courts for a simpler, rustic life on the road. Corineus the Saviour, though he was born Johan Corin, son of a noble family of the border province of Rondelmar. Then five hundred years ago, everything changed: Corineus came like a blazing comet and set the world alight. No one even dreamed that there was another continent beyond the eastern seas. Various faiths, now labelled pagan, struggled for supremacy. Wars were constant dynasties plotted and warred in Rym, the capital. The tale he knew was that as recently as five hundred years ago Yuros had been fragmented, its greatest power, the Rimoni Empire, controlling barely a quarter of the landmass, though that encompassed Rimoni, Silacia, Verelon and all of Noros, Argundy and Rondelmar. The Arcanum heвЂ™d attended had been more secular and less partisan. He counted himself fortunate, one of the few who had been educated in something closer to the truth. Gyle felt his attention drift away from the emperorвЂ™s slant on history. Awe, that we have been chosen by Kore himself for his mission!вЂ™Д¬onstant went on exalting his people вЂ“ and by implication himself вЂ“ cataloguing their glories from the overthrow of the Rimoni Empire and the conquest of Yuros to the Crusades across the Moontide Bridge and the crushing of the infidels of Antiopia.

Pride, at the assembled grandeur of we, the Rondian people! Rightly are we acclaimed the greatest nation upon this Urte! Rightly are we known as KoreвЂ™s Children! Rightly do we sit in judgement on the rest of mankind! Rightly are you, the least of my children, of greater worth to God than all other peoples! And awe, that we have achieved so much in the face of all adversity. вЂMy People,вЂ™ Emperor Constant began, his high-pitched voice gnostically amplified throughout the square, вЂmy People, today I am filled with pride and awe. Obedient to a man, the people fell silent as the small, slender shape on the throne rose to his feet and stepped to the front of the royal podium. How did we ever think we could defeat them?ДЄfter that came trumpets and a sudden silence as white flags rose about the royal box вЂ“ the cue for the populace to still their tongues, for the emperor was to speak. Jaws longer than a man snapped, foot-long teeth gnashed and many of the winged constructs belched fire as they roared: impossible creatures made real by the magi. He followed the bishopвЂ™s pointing finger and dutifully marvelled as the Winged Corps swooped over the Place dвЂ™Accord, dozens of flying reptiles in serried ranks coming over the roof of the Sacred Heart Cathedral, battle-magi saddled behind the riders, and dipping before the royal box while the crowds screamed in awe and no little fear. No one outside of Noros cared any more, and certainly no one here.

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