# Shattered Sanctuary: The Heart of a Rune'Tarii



## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

What's up, Heresy, it maybe too soon to go ahead and post this, but I've a little absent from the forums for a while now. This is another take on the Saga of Senia, I have not finished outlining the whole thing(first try at it actually, reading on some material about that and some other things to help improve my writing, in case you've been wondering where I've been :grin, but I got a rush of ideas and I just had to jot them down. 

Not everything is going to be the same lore-wise and story as in Saga of Senia, so keep that in mind. I'm also not doing a prologue, which I believe is a good thing, yes, good...:wink:. So here we go. 

Chapter One: A nation of men among a world of Elves

Quadalin City, Valicia

1895 Era of the four sanctuaries 

_“I am a ruler of one my good man, over one kingdom and the one true inheritors of this world. Bow to me and the favor of our God will become yours. What is it you wish? A palace, women, a contract and a ship to journey toward the Elven kingdoms?”
_
The commoner stood before the blackest throne, adorned with strips of solid gold running deep through the grooves. The level of intimidation radiated by the chiseled God of a King, Lord Avernon, was only reinforced by the limp flags of a hundred Valician cities sworn allegiance to him assembled up and down the great chamber of the throne. 

Even a commoner, a man of Valician descent only bent knees to Kings and aristocrats, but things being how they are in such a strange world, Alina could not imagine him having to swear an oath to anyone other than his rightful king. And that, as she bore witness, was seeming to transpire between the King and so called peasant. 

“My Lord, great King, I only ever wish to serve the thrown as a humble merchant. You do not need to appease me with the thought of gifts! You have already given the lower class so much! Simply ask of me what you need and I will bring it before you!”

_“Hah!!” _

Avernon’s voice was a boisterous shout that startled her, so much that she squeaked involuntarily. The King, a broad smile on his face, did not even seem to notice. Alina did catch with great distress however, that the Queen standing beside the tyrant flicked her eyes in her general direction for only a brief moment. Her hawk like vision eventually lowered onto a girl with pale skin, dressed in a simple white and black attendant’s robe. The girl met her master’s gaze for a brief moment before bowing deeply in apology, proceeding to keep her head lowered and mouth shut as thoroughly as possible for the rest of her shift in the chamber of the throne.

_“Then I shall speak frankly, my loyal servant. I call upon many of the merchants of Quadalin to offer up ties to fund the rebuilding of the Eagle’s Talons, my flagship, and also the Monastery of Kewatica along with the vast majority of the royal suburbs. Disaster has struck, so I must ask every citizens, including the common man to offer only a little more. I thought that such a tribute should surely earn a visit to the King’s halls. Be honest, is it a just reward?”_

“Oh more than certainly, your majesty, more than I could ever dream of!”

_“If I have your support, you will dream of far grander things for the rest of your life! Come now, I have not heard your name.”_

“Kejulan, majesty.”

_“Good Kejulan, please join the rest of the merchants in the dining hall, one of my attendants would be happy to guide you. I do apologize, but many more await my attention. We will talk later, rest assured.”
_
By attendant, of course he meant a simple slave, no matter how well dressed or mannered. Alina finally gathered the courage to glance up to see the Queen summon the nearest “attendant” off the line of men and women standing on call throughout the throne room. She released a great sigh of relief at dodging another chance to serve. One could never be too sure around the ignorant masses, they could and were often far worse than their esteemed aristocratic counterparts. 

The slaves were a colorful gathering to behold, men and women from a variety of races no doubt originating from all of over the globe. As usual, there wasn’t an elf or other outlandish creature among them, only people she could all too well identify with. 

“Ah, Alina Kirian Nagasa, I should have known the blubbering girl I heard mere moments ago was you.” Lady Chalis’ voice crept up from behind her, but Alina knew better than to move from her designated spot. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

“I-I was just-“Alina found her chin held in an uncomfortable grasp, Chalis forcefully raised her gaze to her meet hers. 

“Take this as a warning you pathetic runt: do not speak unless spoken to!” Chalis was one of the taskmasters, a bronze skin Khiosian, a strain of human who worshipped their God of the sun and forge. With her rich tannish hair and vengeful green eyes, she looked every part descended from the legendary warrior God, Calan, himself, . “For Calan’s sake, you’re nearly a grown woman, so start acting like one. You’re more replaceable than you might think, so attempt to at least look useful.”

“Ye-yes, taskmaster.” Alina resigned herself to a quiet anger as Chalis finally released her grip on her, but did not forget to show her manners with a swift bow. 

“Good. The King is already speaking with another group of merchants, take them into the dining room like a good girl now.” Chalis stared deep into Alina’s own violet eyes as she retreated back into the Chamber of the Throne, slowly disappearing behind the stagnant flags of their masters. 

Swallowing her stomach turning fear, Alina looked up toward the Throne to see the Queen once more gazing down on her. This time, however, she seemed much more pleased, and showed that with a favoring gesture of her hand. A pair of women merchants were waiting for her at the base of the stairs leading toward the seated King. They were dressed in fine lavender dresses, painted over with sacred symbols, which Alina found at once familiar. 

“Lead on, girl.” One of them spoke in ancient Valician, which marked them out as venerating worshipers.

“Right this way.” She sighed to herself, surprised she could even understand the awkward priestess. Perhaps the words of the Ishal’na had more uses than she first guessed.
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I'll guess we'll see if this is better than Saga of Senia, if you have a preference, let me know!


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## Dave T Hobbit (Dec 3, 2009)

A solid beginning.

I found the clause reversal in _"She looked every part descended from the legendary warrior God, Calan himself, with her rich tannish hair and vengeful green eyes"_ a touch distracting.

As the thought that she looked like Calan would follow the sight of her hair and eyes, it would flow better as, _"With her rich tannish hair and vengeful green eyes, she looked every part descended from the legendary warrior God, Calan, himself."_


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## Myen'Tal (Sep 4, 2009)

Thank you:victory:! Yes, that part you mentioned does sound a bit awkward so I'll change it to what you suggested. 

I'll try to keep an eye out for more clause reversals, I think I make more of those than intend.


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