It's a temperate evening in Irohn, like always, and you are gathered with the other heritors in what was once the courthouse of Anaya, and is now the center of the scrambling effort to figure out what to do. It's only been a day since Anaya vanished, and already Uncreated Night is swallowing up the edges of the Realm while Night Roads spew monstrosities into it.

But that last is also your people's only hope, because old lore says that the Roads lead to other worlds, and perhaps more stable ones. The best bet you've found is a farm manager who says that in his farm, a Road opened and disgorged a handful of Uncreated. They were put down, with much effort, and a short scouting excursion found the Road safe enough.

They didn't get far, but it's the best option you've found so far, and time is short....

The First Day After the Fall
Rashana had been in the capital, not far from where she now stood in the Courthouse of Anaya, when it had happened. Stars fell from the twilight sky, and throughout the entire realm, it was felt, on some level. She had gone to interview with the Priesthood, to answer their summons and hear their offers and invitations. Many of the order were in chaos as all seemed to collapse for them in moments. But for Rashana, for the outsider among them, things were... different.

Somehow, she could feel it, taste it. Something stood broken, beyond any <i><i>brokenness</i></i> she'd ever experienced or understood - and she had understood so very well about flaws in the systems around her already. Now, it was like that insight and understanding was magnified, throwing reality into sharp relief. And then, amidst the chaos in her mind, part of the temple had collapsed under the weight of some nightmarish beast and for a moment, things had gone completely dark.

A surge inside her had been the answer. Striking with hands at first, then with starlight as her urgency grew, the rubble atop her was broken into gravel and then dust under the blows of a glowing hammer, a hammer which vanished into nothing as she pulled herself from the rubble of the old Theotechnical Wing of Anaya's temple.

When she looked back at the sky, she could see the frayed edges of the cosmic tapestry, the stars that had fallen and left holes and wounds in the fabric of the sky. On a deep, instinctive level, she recognized a brokenness to reality that hadn't been there, before. That Ayana had kept out... and now, she wasn't able to keep it out anymore...

Rashana had spotted the beast that had crushed the temple wing - ten feet tall with flailing arms of pulsing shadow, so very unlike Anaya's night. In her mind, she could visualize what needed to happen, how it needed to be struck down. And then, almost without understanding in full, she moved. Fallen timbers and stone came together with pale starlight, almost floating into place as she gathered ruined pieces in a blur of movement, and a bolt of starlight glowed as she adjusted the aim of a half-glowing, half-built ballista - and with it, launched a spear of light across several blocks, impaling the monster and pinning it to the side of another building, where it thrashed, digging grooves into the earth before it dissolved away, slain.

The materials comprising the ballista had collapsed, and, in a bit of a daze, Rashana stared down at her hands, and at the remains of what she had, in the moment, built. She had been busy since, working to create such weapons - though without manning them herself, she needed to fashion bolts for each such weapon, made of rubble stone or scrap iron. It took her... little time, impossibly little time to create each work. She was a blur, creating barricades against the creatures.

In just a day's time, the space around the courthouse had been turned into an impromptu fortification. She couldn't fully explain the very work she was doing, but it seemed clear that... perhaps, it was linked to Ayana's passing?

---

Rashana sat around the large table, leaned onto the surface with only subtle suggestions at the idea of fatigue - she wasn't tired, somehow, but she felt like she should be, after all the work she'd done. A plate of food was set in front of her - she had worked through meals, and so one to eat at this gathering hardly had seemed ill-fitting, given she had fortified the plaza almost single-handedly, creating a means of keeping, for a time, at least, the strange monsters at bay.

Behind her eyes, thoughts churned, thoughts she could finally start to consider with all that work behind her, work she'd dived into on raw instinct, but only now could she really think about and let land how... impossible it all was.

How was she supposed to fix a broken sky, these broken and frayed edges of the world?
This message was last edited by the player at 23:17, Wed 08 Apr 2020.

Sani, the young initiate, yes, that one -- not yet the kind of priestess you gave important tasks to, not tasks for an important person -- mind, she was pleasant enough.  Yes, anyway, that Sani, had stepped across the square, with lotus flowers sprouting with each step, just like the old bodhisattvas, and she winced like she was about to be struck with each step.  It wasn't right, after all -- not her.  There were other, more deserving priests.

Earlier, The Fall.

Sani had been lighting lamps in the gardens of the capital -- pleasant in the night air, with the murmur of streams and fountains, and the sighs of aimless couples -- there were always aimless couples in the central garden.  There were five sacred sites with lamps to be lit at the feet of statutes of Anaya, one for each of the five sacred plants, which grew in abundance:  their flowers were soft-blush red; plain white; dull Aegean blue; brilliant gold; and humble, mud brown.

When the stars winked out, one moment there was the Third Altar, and the next, it was gone.  There was a nothingness that looked cold, like a black pool of water in winter.  A few dim things walked out.  They advanced on her, and, true be told, she had felt frozen in place, like a scared rabbit – more scared than a rabbit, in fact.

It was hard to say what had happened first, but someone screamed “RUN!”  And at some point, when her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was praying to Anaya, she felt a sudden benevolence, followed by a gentle sadness.  A voice said “Save them, child.”

She heard howls, groans, screams.  Then:  “The plants got them!” cried a jubilant woman.  “Thank Anaya!”

Sani opened her eyes, and a humble, brown plant had grown thickly over the Hole in the World, and wrapped it up shut.

“Thank Anaya, “ a woman sobbed nearby.

But Sani didn't feel any relief, because when she looked up, Anaya was gone.

The Present.

Sani, the young initiate, stood tentatively near Rashana, as if waiting to be acknowledged.  She had a basket of food:  warm bread, butter, cheese, and wine.  A path of flowers receded across the room behind her, small lotuses with pale flowers.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, diffidently.  “Miss, I’ve heard you made all these fortifications.  It’s a miracle.  The High Keeper asked me to bring you food and wine.  He says you are blessed by Anaya.”

"But that's not true, is it?  Anaya's gone.  Everyone can see that."

The golden-haired girl turned an eye to the initiate who had turned up to her side, offering bread and wine. She smiled, a relieved look, as she accepted openly. "I... I don't know entirely how, but yes." She closed her eyes, savoring the taste, as if she'd only just realized how hungry she truly was. She set to opening the bread with a knife that wasn't there a moment ago, with a silvery glowing blade that had simply formed of nothing in her hand.

"But, from what I can tell, I'm not the only one working wonders right now." She cast an eye back to the receding trail of flowers blossoming from stone. "I can't say if this is Anaya's hand at work, some... consequence of her loss, or... something else, really. I don't profess to have any answers about Anaya, but... my eyes agree with yours."

She turned her eyes back to the wine, took a drink, then looked back to the food-bearing initiate with a softer smile. "... and it's Rashana." She added gently. "My name. Thank you and the Keeper for the hospitality. I think I've worked without eating since the gloaming hours..."

A quiet sound of satisfied approval left her as she took small, neat bites of the buttered bread, chased with another sip of wine. She had the food-handling manners befitting her noble station, despite her apparent hunger.

"You are very welcome.  If it's no good, miss Rashana, I can get you something else," Sani had never seen anyone eat so delicately.

"I'm Sani.  I'm an initiate--I'm sure you realized, " she was wearing the greens after all, with the symbol of the sacred flowers intertwined into a knot.  Only the initiates were required to wear the greens and flowers.  "I think no one's gotten much rest.  We've been helping the injured and gathering supplies.  We have animals, and we're storing up seeds and food.  Some of the injured aren't really injured -- they just are in shock and don't know what to do. They come to us anyway.  The High Keeper says some have been chosen by Anaya and will guide us.  That seems to help them feel better.  But it'll get worse if we stay too long.  I can see it.  Some of them, the darkness is clinging to them, eating at their hearts.  If we stay too long, eventually they won't want to leave, and I don't know what happens after that."

  While the fêted defenders relate their observations and compare miracles on one side of the table, the smaller, pale girl in the dreamtender's robes sits still and silent, clearly paying attention but not raising her eyes far enough to be exactly 'watching' them.  It isn't clear why she is present, and she wears the perpetual half-cringe of someone who isn't sure on the matter, herself.

  On one level, the answer is there for the taking.  The girl ran deep into a panicked mob when the attack began, and an orderly evacuation spread from her in waves.  Once she caught sight of the barricades going up, the whole crowd flowed like a school of fish to gather behind them.  Hundreds indisputably survived because of her cool head and quick action, and it was only more impressive if she had done nothing but plead with them, as some survivors reported.  Impressive enough, perhaps, to reconsider her caste to honor a spirit that clearly leapt beyond the limits of its latest birth.

  But this isn't a table for heroes; this is a table, and a meeting, for the inheritors of Anaya, who bleed miracles and hold fire in their gaze.  They sprang into action and drove back the onslaught of terror and annihilation.  And they would have to find a way to hold the world together, or else find another and lead the multitudes to it.  The Servant girl would likely make a good functionary in the effort, but that must come after the plan is laid.  And that must be—

  Ah.  She has a functioning data slate.  Someone must have gotten the network back up, at least locally.  Keeping the minutes, then.

Then

Though there were myriad other places where she could be sure of peace and quiet, Laila had long favoured meditating within the privacy of her own chambers if she could find cause enough to avoid company. She knew there was something more than a little childish to it. No-one else could walk within her mind and see what passed between her and the goddess, nor would any of her peers be so disrespectful as to interrupt or bother her without a good reason. And yet still she found that sense of distance all but critical to her calm. Something about knowing she was truly alone as she shared her inner-self with Anaya made that bond feel all the richer. Stronger. More real.

Her presence had always been a small thing, perhaps more the calcification of heartfelt belief than a true manifestation of divinity. It was like the tiny flickering light of a candle on the distant horizon, a thing almost so faint as to be unnoticeable yet ever-defiant against the dark. It had always been warming despite the leagues that lay between them.

Laila had been reaching for it when the flame died and the freezing void rushed in. Then she fell. Into darkness – darkness and light.

She came back to the world sprawled out on the floor, one arm still stretched out before her and after-images blaring in front of her eyes as if she had stared too long at the sun. Her ears rang as she ineffectually to rub the dancing lights away with trembling hands, nausea keeping her pinned to the floor as her equilibrium slowly righted itself. Slowly, queasily, she started to piece things back together. Her vision cleared, she found her feet, and the discordant noise died away. Mostly. Some still lingered on.

She cocked her head to one side. Were those screams?

From the balcony she saw – saw but didn’t understand - the fate that had befallen Irohn. Balefires fell from the tattered twilight shroud above and thundered to the world below, filling the sky with ash and dust. Their impacts threw up not only shattered masonry but a darkness that seemed to shift before her eyes as if the very shadows were alive. It slid and crawled across the ground, coalescing into dark and terrible shapes that stood like a bestial parody of humanity. Nightmares. Terrors. Hungering shades that defiled this sacred place with each and every step they took.

Laila’s vantage point let her take in only a small portion of the chaos befalling the city but even that was enough. She had no memory of such an event ever taking place within their city’s history, and she was certain that Anaya would never have allow- … Anaya. Only now did she recognise that painful absence in the tortured sky, and in that moment something broke inside her. The goddess was gone. They were alone. She was alone.

She watched with despairing eyes as those monstrosities lurched towards a handful of dazed individuals pulling themselves free from the rubble of a building's shattered entranceway. Part of her wanted to scream out, to yell for them to run, but fear had swallowed her voice. She could do nothing, and she hated that feeling of helplessness - hated whatever cruel fate had forced this upon them. Her fists balled so hard that her nails bit into her palms until they burned.

Burned?

There nestled in her hand was the flame from her vision. And as she beheld that brilliant spark, that sheer raw power bursting forth, its like rose in her heart and set that grief and hate ablaze. It swelled further and claimed her fear, her doubts and every last ounce of hesitation until there was only that sheer will to act. She burned, and there was ample fuel for that fire.

With a roar Laila threw herself from the balustrade as her soul ignited. She ate up the ground, every tree, every railing, every outcropping another footfall as she seared across the sky. At last she fell upon those twisted creatures like the fist of an angry god, incandescent in her fury and her light anathema to their darkness. Though they shrank away from her she offered not a mote of mercy. Only ash remained.

Yet it was not enough. The fire burned on.

---

Now

“I think you know very well what will happen,” Laila cut in from the side. Sat with her arms folded across her chest, she clearly had nothing better to occupy herself with than listening in. “None of it good.”

Though her clean white garb had its share of scuffs and wear from frays of the day past it still gleamed like new, a thing made more impressive when one considered how widespread accounts of her interventions were. If one believed every rumor and tall tale then nearly half the city could claim some kind of run in with their own falling star. Obviously those accounts were inflated by all reckoning by now but Laila was in no mood to dispel such talk.

“Anaya wished to spare us war, so our people do not fight or build high walls; she wished to spare us pain, so we are unprepared for such times as these. Not since the first have any of us lived through their like.” She let out a resigned little sigh. It made the whole business sound more an annoyance than a matter of extinction. “We will weather it as best we can, but that may not mean much. None of us are Her equal. Even together we may not have the means to halt this.”
This message was last edited by the player at 08:34, Sat 11 Apr 2020.

Rashana looked up to Laila as she spoke. She'd heard of the woman, of course -a falling star come to fight the creatures was a curiosity in passing, at least to the woman who had spent such time conceiving and creating the structures and tools needed to fend off the monstrosities of the frayed edges. A fellow noble, Rashana could recognize the same signs of similar social ties that had held them both back from all the were capable of. Having seen her briefly in action, though, it was a different thing entirely. An anger that Rashana didn't quite share, but it wasn't something that seemed misplaced, as far as Rashana could tell.

Turning, after Laila's reply to Sani, the younger noble cleared her throat. "I hate to admit it, but she's right. I could build a vault with walls as thick as a mountain, but whatever it is fraying the sky up there wouldn't care about walls. Nevermind that few of us even have the capacity to face these things..." There was a brief pause, as she took another piece of bread to eat, taking a bite, chewing and swallowing with wine delicately before looking back up. "... Thank you, though. I'm not sure I've ever had bread so good without being fresh heated from the oven." She exhaled, and turned her eyes briefly to Bire La.

She didn't know what to make of the pale-faced girl with dark hair just yet. Rashana put less  hard stock in caste than one would expect, but she was still an enigma to her, but the moment passed as she considered the other girl, then spoke up, looking to Laila. "We had a scout return while I was working at the wall - reports of an old... well, a Road, as the old records call it. They're said to be gateways leading out into other worlds. I know it's generally accepted that most of us arrived here from some other place, long ago, through Anaya's benevolence. But whatever befell her, she can't protect this place any longer, and... I don't know how. I can feel it, though, like there's something... broken here. Something I can't fix."

She leaned onto the table, gently brushing her hair back, and, in the process, a shimmering tie of light formed, and she used one hand to draw back and pull her hair into a low tie at the back. It seemed effortless for her, almost instinctive already - given how much she'd done the trick to summon up tools she used to work the stone of the city into makeshift fortifications, it was hardly surprising the seemed at ease with that particular facet of her inheritance. "I feel like I'm supposed to fix it, but I don't know... how. I wonder if it might be better to use the Road - to look for some other place that isn't... collapsing under the weight of this... force, whatever it is, leaking into the city."

She seemed troubled, to be sure. She didn't seem to entirely understand what she was capable of, or perhaps it was more being able to now make the intuitive leaps needed to design something as she built it, and to build almost as a blur seemed somehow... irrational to her - it shouldn't possible to have a mind or hands this quick and efficient, and yet... she did. It didn't seem to make getting over the sudden escalation of her capabilities any easier, though.

Then

Alvatter busied himself within the depths of the archive. His task today similar to those he had each day for the last three years: to copy precious tomes so that they could be preserved. Knowledge, wisdom, memory. It was these things that the Order of Triumphant Wisdom dedicated themselves to preserving if only for the matters of the arcane. When Anaya disappeared Alvatter felt nothing expressly wrong with the world, at least not immediately. It was only as Night Roads began to emerge did his mind become engulfed in heat and pain as the half-whispered voices of ten thousand sages assailed him.

He stumbled through the archive, avoiding the crumbling roof and collapsing shelves. There was no intention in his actions, simply a subtle awareness of where to be and where not to be. Sadly this blessing did not extend to his fellows and he was forced to bear witness to several of their deaths at the hands of creatures without names. He wished to save them but was painfully aware of how limited his new power was.

Shamefully he turned away from their suffering and stepped into shadow, disappearing from the depths of the archive and emerging in the relative safety.

Now

Alvatter sat at the table of supposed inheritors of Anaya's power and felt a fraud. He had not been strong enough to protect others or create defenses. He was only powerful enough to save himself and worse he had turned his back on those he was charged to treat as his brothers and sisters. So he was silent and listened while trying to not to drown in the sorrow that threatened to consume him. At mention of the roads he thought to himself, pulling on the host of knowledge that he had inherited and what he knew from his time serving as an Archivist for the Order.

"We are likely experiencing the erosion of our realm by Uncreated Night, the hungering void that form during the collapse of Heaven under the hubris of man. These Roads that Rashana speaks of are pathways between realms but not all are safe to traverse even if they are stable."

"It is likely that more of those...things will be awaiting any who enter."

Sani had continued bringing refreshments to the heritors, bobbing in and out, listening, listening, trying to not shiver at the thought of what was to come if they tried to stay.  "I think we have to go.  I'm sure that things will get worse just like everyone agrees if we stay.  The Keepers are already gathering seeds, food, tools, and animals.  But there aren't enough wagons, and the Keepers aren't sure where we're going.  I think most people are still staying home, waiting for someone to tell them what to do."

"Wagons can be built. It won't take me long. What I'm more concerned with is safety for the journey. I can make all the finest weapons, but it won't matter if our people can't use them very well." She cast an eye toward her fellow Noble, at that. "Well, that, and where exactly we're to end up. We don't really know what lies beyond that gate - it is how these creatures came to be here, but these portals seem to be the only roads we have out of this place."

Alvatter grimaced. They were right, of course. Without Anaya's divine protection this realm was doomed to destruction. The Roads presented the only viable option for escape but they would not be easy to traverse and there was no way of being certain that we would arrive at a safer destination.

"The simple reality is that if we do not leave we will all likely die. The Roads present us with our only viable option. I will go and investigate them to the best of my abilities. While I cannot guarantee I will find a suitable path I believe Anaya empowered me for this task. As for the other preparations we can do only what we can and pray for the best."

  "That is the question that panics the Dreamers," chimes in the dreamtender. Her fingers pause in their quick, precise strokes on the slate, looking a bit like dancers' legs in a mid-motion stance. She looks up finally, but makes only the briefest flickers of eye contact. The cringe sinks into a pool of professionalism as the words come out.

  "They have tried to invite guidance and found none, no matter how strongly the elixirs were brewed. Some have seen horrors. Some have seen Nothing, and they are the more shaken." Her voice holds sympathy and comfort-in-advance, but little sign of her own emotional response. It is a very trained voice. "If the archives do not speak, and the Dreamers do not see, we cannot know whether we travel to save ourselves or merely to make our beds in a fire.

  She takes a steadying breath before coming to the point, and she makes it speaking just faster enough to notice. "This one suggests there is wisdom in taking time. We may yet learn how to assess our destination, and the additional experience combating the creatures of the hungry dark may help to better defend from them along the way. If you say we must leave, we must leave; but prepare for as long as Irohn has any safety for us at all." Immediately, she ducks her head again and subtly leans back.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:02, Mon 13 Apr 2020.

Joshua hadn't spoken much at all, and merely listened to the others as they had argued back and forth. As Bire offered her view on waiting though, he looked up from the weapon he had been cleaning out of habit, and decided to throw in his own perspective.
"You have a point in waiting Bire, but the longer we wait the more we lose. We might be heading somewhere worse than our current situation, but maybe not. Were it just us, I would say we shouldn't run into an unknown so easily, but we have innocent people to evacuate. If they die because we didn't take a risk, then the blood is on our hands all the same. I say we gather who and what we can as quickly as possible and make a run for it."

"The past speaks," Laila aimed at Bire La, no small certainty about her tone. "And our home is already aflame."

“Each of us knows how this realm came to be. Anaya, in her benevolence, carved a sanctuary for her faithful and so shielded us from the horrors beyond. She granted us hope and life when the world offered only death. Now death is come again, and in the goddess’ absence we must play her part.” She cast her gaze about the group. There was an unmistakable weight to it. "But none among us knows how to turn back the dark and repair a broken realm, and even if that knowledge were here it might be lost to us before we ever found it. We are only a fraction of her greatness. We cannot hope to sustain wonders maintained by her grace alone."

For Joshua a particular point of scorn was waiting. "There is no path without risk; to delay may be the greatest risk of all. That does not make acting without caution wisdom."

With that said, her attention came to rest upon Alvatter. She regarded him with a certain intensity, almost as if seeking to gauge his mettle, before offering him a slight nod of recognition. "I am with the archivist. If there are preparations that can be done here to better preserve the city and ready the people then see to them, but our fate lies with the Roads. If this collapse can be slowed - halted - then we will need to better know our enemy; if it is terminal then we must arm ourselves ourselves to protect the people on our exodus. It is the best course."

A faint light rose beneath her skin. In her eyes. "I am her sword. His studies will require time, and I will see that he has it."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:30, Mon 13 Apr 2020.

The tone had taken a divisive turn, and Sani found the Keeper's instinct to keep the peace rise inside her.  "Why not try both?  Those who want to explore staying -- can have a day to see if there's any solution, maybe by going to where Anaya used to be.  Perhaps you can find out where she's gone.  Even if it's not a solution, something of her power may remain in that place.  Those who want to go can form a group and examine the road.  Why not try both approaches and report back here?  As long as we are trying, there is hope."

"I choose... " she looked at the archivist and Laila -- certainly she felt safer near them.  "... to go see the road."

"If we decide to leave, we can take the Eternals with us, " -- she meant the undead workers -- "They can be a buffer to protect others as we travel the road."

There was a quiet pause, as Joshua spoke. His hasty attitude was unwise, but Laila said Rashana's piece more cleanly than she'd be able to, herself. The other noble got a slight nod. "See to it. I will assemble whatever I can to facilitate the transport and defense of as many as possible. "

There was a brief pause, though, as Sani raised the subject of the Eternals. "... We must prioritize the living. The Eternals are slower, less coordinated, less able to respond. I can see their use - but too many of them risk boxing the people into a cornered situation as easily as they might serve as a shield. We should take care with whatever Eternals we bring with us..." There was a subtle personal distaste toward them, it seemed - but her assessment was nonetheless soundly based on reason.

Standing from the table, Rashana stretched her arms over her her head, stretching and quietly popping her spine, one eye squeezing closed. "nhhnn... Alright. Let me get back to work, if that's all you need me for - Nobody else is going to be able to build what we need." She looked to Laila. "If you could - how many units of troops do we have fit for manning my ballistae? There's no sense in me overbuilding - I thought to build transports with mounted weapons on top - all the better to serve as the front and flank of the caravan."

Rashana's words earned her the ghost of a smile. She seemed practical, fittingly enough, and had been quite agreeable. That was certainly welcome. At her question however Laila couldn't help but give an incredulous little laugh. Really it was more of a dry huff than anything. "I know nothing of troops and arms. Before yesterday I knew nothing of violence..." She brushed the thought away with a lazy shrug. "I can make inquiries should you wish it. I doubt they would refuse me the information."

"In return though, I would like a sword. I have no need of one but it feels improper to be without a weapon now." A knowing tilt of the head. "A symbol, you see."

The Maker's eyes darted over Laila at her request, and the other woman got the distinct impression that Rashana was measuring her with a glance - height, the length of her arm, dimensions...  The moment passed, though, as she stood from the table.

"From your attitude, I assumed you'd know. Not to worry, though. If it comes to it, I'll find people to teach - difficult as that might be. In any event, if you're looking for something magical, that will take time and focus, even for me. But, if you want something solid and inspiring, I can do that. Come with me." She invited Laila, as she moved toward the exit, though she did pause to look back to the rest. "Anything else to go over, before I get back to work?"

Alvatter was glad to have the support of at least some of the inheritors. These were trying times and he could sympathize with Joshua even if he didn't agree. Hopefully they would find a way to save as many people from Irohn and preserve as much of its legacy. As Rashana rose he also rose and when she spoke he shook his head in the negative.

"No I believe this matter closed to the extent that it can be resolved at current. If we are all clear in our missions there is nothing left to discuss."

  La nods and tucks her slate away, then rises from her seat with careful, formal grace. The robes are cut to hang straight and heavy enough to stay that way, masking the body underneath. So she looks more like a votive candle unmelting than like a fully real person.

  "I will notify the Dreamers you wish to depart with haste," she says, tucking her hands into her sleeves before bowing deeply. She takes her time rising again, and then her eyes, still turned to the floor, jump erratically as she visibly turns over a plan in her mind. She nods after a second, or bows again less intensely—hard to be sure.

  "They will debate the decision, but they wish to survive as much as any of us. They will surely come along. Perhaps one of the exalted Inheritors might speak with them and allay their concerns, though. Their influence with the faithful should not be dismissed, especially when fast changes are required of so many." She turns to leave on the heels of those words, apparently leaving the new godlings to decide their value. The emphasis she had put on "haste" and "faithful" is impressively subtle.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:29, Tue 14 Apr 2020.