[Releasing his hold on his captive, Bennet takes a step back and gathers himself. He's shaken, in a way he is entirely unaccustomed to being shaken.
How is any of this possible? A people that know not of Jerusalem, a Legion in the hinters of ancient Mesopotamia, it's as if his trek into the desert took him out of the world he knows and into another one entirely. Which ought to be impossible. For all that this man may consort with 'spheres' or whatever he may call them, he is just a simple warrior, nothing more.
He hadn't wanted to speak of this. His furrowed brow speaks of his reluctance even before he finds the words. But if he is to make any sense of this at all, he must divulge all information, even that which is of personal shame to him.]
There is one another waypoint you may or may not know. A place within the wastes the locals called 'Akkaba'. Within those wastes, deep in the cradle where our history began, scrolls writ long before my birth told tales of an Eternal Pharaoh, who ruled in antiquity from a tower of power beyond the reckoning of man.
[He sighs. What comes next is painful to recount, yet recount it he must.] Eobar and I heard these tales together and decided to find that tower, to claim its riches and its secrets for our own. But then, the day we were to set out, a mysterious black-haired woman arrived at our camp. A sorceress whose first act was to assault our brothers, yet Eobar took to her as though bewitched. He refused to allow her to be killed and refused to carry on our quest. I resolved to carry on alone. Taking what provisions I could, I rode out into those wastes and spent three days and three nights searching, long enough for my mount to sprain its leg and die in a sandstorm. Before I caught sight of the valley I emerged from, I thought all hope lost, I thought I would die in those empty desert lands. But I did not die. Instead I am here, in this strange land that seems removed entire from any reckoning of the world I know.
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How is any of this possible? A people that know not of Jerusalem, a Legion in the hinters of ancient Mesopotamia, it's as if his trek into the desert took him out of the world he knows and into another one entirely. Which ought to be impossible. For all that this man may consort with 'spheres' or whatever he may call them, he is just a simple warrior, nothing more.
He hadn't wanted to speak of this. His furrowed brow speaks of his reluctance even before he finds the words. But if he is to make any sense of this at all, he must divulge all information, even that which is of personal shame to him.]
There is one another waypoint you may or may not know. A place within the wastes the locals called 'Akkaba'. Within those wastes, deep in the cradle where our history began, scrolls writ long before my birth told tales of an Eternal Pharaoh, who ruled in antiquity from a tower of power beyond the reckoning of man.
[He sighs. What comes next is painful to recount, yet recount it he must.] Eobar and I heard these tales together and decided to find that tower, to claim its riches and its secrets for our own. But then, the day we were to set out, a mysterious black-haired woman arrived at our camp. A sorceress whose first act was to assault our brothers, yet Eobar took to her as though bewitched. He refused to allow her to be killed and refused to carry on our quest. I resolved to carry on alone. Taking what provisions I could, I rode out into those wastes and spent three days and three nights searching, long enough for my mount to sprain its leg and die in a sandstorm. Before I caught sight of the valley I emerged from, I thought all hope lost, I thought I would die in those empty desert lands. But I did not die. Instead I am here, in this strange land that seems removed entire from any reckoning of the world I know.