[ It's a short scene. At one moment -- Absinthe is standing in a field of grass. In front of him is a towering pile of bodies; a mix of both monster and man, burnt to a crisp, and (appropriately) smelling of death. He flinches, and walks away.
Cut to Absinthe, hooded, walking along a country road, vast expanses of yellow grass on either side of him, walking along with a man old enough he's hunched over and using a cave. Absinthe stops for a moment, viewing from afar another pile of bodies. ]
Old man: "Are you unwell, Lord Caelum?"
Absinthe: "Tis nothing."
[ They keep walking, and the old man keeps talking. As they walk they enter a ruined town, wreckage of buildings and burnt trees around them. They head for what seems to be one of the few remaining standing buildings. The construction all looks rather ... medieval, not modern. ]
Old man: "You know, your dear brother did unspeakable things. He rounded up those afflicted by the Scarcsourge .. even those he merely suspected of infection, and burned them all alive."
[ They enter the building; there's a woman there with her daughter -- her daughter is tied to a wooden bed. ]
Woman: "Lord Caelum! Please, you must save my daughter!"
Absinthe: "But of course."
[ Absinthe pulls off his hood and steps closer to the afflicted girl. The girl has streaks of black taint on her skin; her scleras is completely back and her irises are yellow. She growls more like an animal than a human being as Absinthe draws near.
Absinthe sits beside her bedside and reaches his hand forward. As he does the sickness and corruption seems to leave her in a cloud that goes into Absinthe's hand; she thunks back down to the bed after a second, looking normal -- healed.
Absinthe abruptly looks at his own arm in alarm; some of his veins pulse with the same black ichor that had been on the woman and his sclera's turned black, as well -- the old man speaks, questioning; ]
Old man: "Lord Caelum?"
[ Absinthe hurriedly tugs his hood back over his face, as he gets up and starts to head out. ]
Absinthe: "She's all better now."
Old man: "Oh, thank the gods. And thank you, milord!"
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1:39 - 1:52
3:13 - 4:08
[ It's a short scene. At one moment -- Absinthe is standing in a field of grass. In front of him is a towering pile of bodies; a mix of both monster and man, burnt to a crisp, and (appropriately) smelling of death. He flinches, and walks away.
Cut to Absinthe, hooded, walking along a country road, vast expanses of yellow grass on either side of him, walking along with a man old enough he's hunched over and using a cave. Absinthe stops for a moment, viewing from afar another pile of bodies. ]
Old man: "Are you unwell, Lord Caelum?"
Absinthe: "Tis nothing."
[ They keep walking, and the old man keeps talking. As they walk they enter a ruined town, wreckage of buildings and burnt trees around them. They head for what seems to be one of the few remaining standing buildings. The construction all looks rather ... medieval, not modern. ]
Old man: "You know, your dear brother did unspeakable things. He rounded up those afflicted by the Scarcsourge .. even those he merely suspected of infection, and burned them all alive."
[ They enter the building; there's a woman there with her daughter -- her daughter is tied to a wooden bed. ]
Woman: "Lord Caelum! Please, you must save my daughter!"
Absinthe: "But of course."
[ Absinthe pulls off his hood and steps closer to the afflicted girl. The girl has streaks of black taint on her skin; her scleras is completely back and her irises are yellow. She growls more like an animal than a human being as Absinthe draws near.
Absinthe sits beside her bedside and reaches his hand forward. As he does the sickness and corruption seems to leave her in a cloud that goes into Absinthe's hand; she thunks back down to the bed after a second, looking normal -- healed.
Absinthe abruptly looks at his own arm in alarm; some of his veins pulse with the same black ichor that had been on the woman and his sclera's turned black, as well -- the old man speaks, questioning; ]
Old man: "Lord Caelum?"
[ Absinthe hurriedly tugs his hood back over his face, as he gets up and starts to head out. ]
Absinthe: "She's all better now."
Old man: "Oh, thank the gods. And thank you, milord!"
Woman: "Blessed be this day. It's a miracle!"