Post by Aesir Tempest on Jul 18, 2021 13:27:47 GMT -6
The sun slowly set over the jungle. The last rays painting the city orange as the artificial lights didn't come on. Instead as the shade hit the streets the ceremonial torches lit up, ensuring the city was bathed in an eerie glow. The normally busy streets were empty, as the population was congregated in pyramid temple at the center. Entering the temple one would see a giant crowd on their knees, heads bowed towards the figure standing on the tiered podium. The figure in question was ruler and high priest Ṇàchyi̊ Nyůchyì. The brutal ruler of Nyazh̀à he was seen as a living god, able to command whatever he wished. However even with his known brutal streak he was beloved by the people.
The drums began to beat as several soldiers walked in, escorting several prisoners at spear point. They were walked up the stairs and forced onto the altars. In the past this had been a tougher practice, but modern drugs those led to the altars were more placid. Then began the chant. It was wordless, but still carried with it meaning. Nyůchyì raised his paw, stretching out his claws. Silence fell as his paw reached as high as it could go. He brought it down, feeling the warmth as it flowed onto the floor and into the crevices. The liquid flowed as he continued until all but one was finished. He walked to the center dais and slowly carved out the center, ripping out the pumping organ, lifting it into the air before consuming it. And with that the ceremony was over. Offerings were given out as the people dispersed, and Nyůchyì headed to his quarters.
He undressed, throwing the ceremonial clothes onto the floor, watching as the servants ran to pick them up and store them for next time. He reached his chair and sprawled on it, licking the fur on his paws, smiling at the taste of iron. More servants approached with buckets of steaming water and towels. He lay there as they began to rub his fur, soaking it with warm water, cleaning it of all impurities. He smirked as they finished up and he stood. They once again rubbed his fur, drying it this time, as he headed to the baths. Today had been a good day, and tomorrow was going to be even better.
The drums began to beat as several soldiers walked in, escorting several prisoners at spear point. They were walked up the stairs and forced onto the altars. In the past this had been a tougher practice, but modern drugs those led to the altars were more placid. Then began the chant. It was wordless, but still carried with it meaning. Nyůchyì raised his paw, stretching out his claws. Silence fell as his paw reached as high as it could go. He brought it down, feeling the warmth as it flowed onto the floor and into the crevices. The liquid flowed as he continued until all but one was finished. He walked to the center dais and slowly carved out the center, ripping out the pumping organ, lifting it into the air before consuming it. And with that the ceremony was over. Offerings were given out as the people dispersed, and Nyůchyì headed to his quarters.
He undressed, throwing the ceremonial clothes onto the floor, watching as the servants ran to pick them up and store them for next time. He reached his chair and sprawled on it, licking the fur on his paws, smiling at the taste of iron. More servants approached with buckets of steaming water and towels. He lay there as they began to rub his fur, soaking it with warm water, cleaning it of all impurities. He smirked as they finished up and he stood. They once again rubbed his fur, drying it this time, as he headed to the baths. Today had been a good day, and tomorrow was going to be even better.