The Dark Citadel: Petro

Petro rode his horse along the muddy road, his eyes scanning the thick forest on either side. The rain had let up, but the air remained heavy with moisture. His armor clinked softly with each step of his mount.

He spotted something gleaming, half buried under the sand, and knelt down.  Gently, he worked the holy symbol of Annis free.  It was a golden sun and heavy, worth quite a bit.  He slipped it into his pocket and stood.

Rain began to fall from the sky.

The priest waited until things settled.  Lightning struck in the distance, followed seconds after by the roll of thunder.

The crowd watched in mute fascination.  Petro couldn’t believe it.  He didn’t think this was right, but he couldn’t understand why no one else did anything. The duke wasn’t a bad man.  People often talked about him, and how good he was to his people. Yet no one spoke up. No one said this was wrong.

Six guards walked to the right group.  The first guard grabbed the duke and pulled him away.  The second grabbed his wife.  The third grabbed the Captain of the Guard, and the forth and fifth grabbed the thirteen year old son of the Duke and a nobleman in expensive clothing. All ...

The crowd hushed as an enormous platform was wheeled into the square.  On it stood a tall man in white robes with a thick black mustache and jet black hair.  He stood calm as the platform was wheeled to a stop in front of the crowd.  Behind him on the platform stood a large devic...

Something big was planned, he knew.  Was it true that the Duke was a heretic?  The city held two churches, large structures dedicated to the God Annis. The true God, the one that the priests spoke of.  Everything else, the priest told him, was demon worship. Heretics and murderer...

Something big was planned, he knew.  Was it true that the Duke was a heretic?  The city held two churches, large structures dedicated to the God Annis. The true God, the one that the priests spoke of.