WIP: Solomon’s (First) Choice
Here I stand in the monument to his beloved gone, alone with the weight of decisions I cannot possibly see the ends of, cannot possibly work out all that will come from my choice, and yet I must make it now.
Here I stand in the monument to his beloved gone, alone with the weight of decisions I cannot possibly see the ends of, cannot possibly work out all that will come from my choice, and yet I must make it now.
I see two Merits, briefly. While the possibilities for such a thing are lovely, it strikes me as wise not to comment on it.
I’ve never seen children among the Mythos before. I know now why we were never allowed to see them.
Story under construction. Tidbit incoming.
It sounds like exaggeration, does it not? I was there, and it is still difficult to credit.
She guided me – taught me, which by design should not have been possible – to never kill children, to avoid the unwisdom of well-armed cities. She taught me, friend, to stop before my prey would die.
I had discovered a state of existence other than hunger, and I wanted more. Tranquility spins a siren-song of its own.