"The locals pray to the Night and Day Gods. Priests of the Night God left a town on the eastern coast, requesting volunteers to test a possible cure for the transformations. It worked for a few days, then backfired." He shifted the wing back more comfortably folded; it was still stiff and painful - the reason he was walking and not flying. "Those who'd volunteered caught part of the backlash, and went berserk; most didn't manage to get away from the camp before losing control. The town took the priests' death as proof that we were nothing more than the Fog God's tools, and spent two months organizing to go across the peninsula in a mob, armed with binding spells and weapons that would strike weaknesses. They weren't aiming to kill, only capture and torment, with no discrimination for children or otherwise. From what one of them said, and some of what they had, the Night God was supporting this, giving them instructions." He shifted, curling one wing around so that the back of it was visible in front of him; the entire membrane was covered in black, mottled fresh splatter-scars, some of them still healing where the caustic chemicals had eaten all the way through. "They shoved everyone they'd taken into a pit, using acids to kill as slowly as possible. Most of us only escaped due to a fire that burned most of the town."
He shifted the wing back, although there was some care in the movement that spoke of aches and stiffness in still-healing muscles. "We haven't heard from anyone associated with the Day God, but at this point, I'd be wary."
no subject
"The locals pray to the Night and Day Gods. Priests of the Night God left a town on the eastern coast, requesting volunteers to test a possible cure for the transformations. It worked for a few days, then backfired." He shifted the wing back more comfortably folded; it was still stiff and painful - the reason he was walking and not flying. "Those who'd volunteered caught part of the backlash, and went berserk; most didn't manage to get away from the camp before losing control. The town took the priests' death as proof that we were nothing more than the Fog God's tools, and spent two months organizing to go across the peninsula in a mob, armed with binding spells and weapons that would strike weaknesses. They weren't aiming to kill, only capture and torment, with no discrimination for children or otherwise. From what one of them said, and some of what they had, the Night God was supporting this, giving them instructions." He shifted, curling one wing around so that the back of it was visible in front of him; the entire membrane was covered in black, mottled fresh splatter-scars, some of them still healing where the caustic chemicals had eaten all the way through. "They shoved everyone they'd taken into a pit, using acids to kill as slowly as possible. Most of us only escaped due to a fire that burned most of the town."
He shifted the wing back, although there was some care in the movement that spoke of aches and stiffness in still-healing muscles. "We haven't heard from anyone associated with the Day God, but at this point, I'd be wary."