[BF25] Dominion: Uprising
Posted: Fri Nov 28, 2025 10:31 am
I sit in Evana’s radiance, here in the most holy place, where her light and presence surrounds me. Many hours I have sat here and received her wisdom, guidance, and love. Unfortunately, these last months my time with her has not been full of joy, but sorrow. She is angry with me. Her light has dimmed.
I may only beg her forgiveness and her patience.
In the early days of our tribulation she understood my hesitancy and my fear. Those Skion arrived with a thousand great warships and even one who had The Far Sight. If not for the colors of our livery they would have subjugated us or thrashed us to dust. Evana saw it, for she is wise. But I, and others, saw this even without her foresight. Still, she demanded we fight. Death before enslavement.
“Soak your streets in blood, then come and die with me,” she demanded. She would have us meet the night together, and experience the eternal embrace of her spirit. We were finally invited to settle upon her surface, to truly know her and be received by her. To die with her.
But I was afraid! Afraid of death and afraid of dying. Most of all I was afraid of the long dark without Evana’s light. Long have I bathed in it, and I admit I have become attached to it most selfishly; a child and her favorite doll. Forgive me Evana for my weakness! When I die she will welcome me into death and her light will sustain me forever. But, oh Evana, what if you, too, are slain? She will not answer me in this.
And so, in fear, I arranged to accept Skion’s offer of peace and false friendship. Our people were sent to die in their wars. The price of my selfishness is not lost on me, though I suppose it bought us time to prepare, dig in, and infiltrate.
We have run out of that time. Evana is drifting from us. Her orbit extends further every day, daring us to defy her a little longer. The tides are in flux. The light recedes. Oh, how I am starved for its purity!
The preparations are all made. The people are resentful, and restless, and they will carry out their orders. Artor is hesitant, but that is because he is a soldier and he has a soldier’s respect for our foe. I suspect that he will betray our purpose before the appointed time to soothe his guilt for this betrayal. It is only a hunch, and though I have tried to question Evana on this, she keeps her wisdom from me. There is only her repeated command, a single word repeated again and again with a rage that burrows deep into my skull and wails unceasingly.
“Die.”
And so I will speak as they do so that they may know fear in our last days:
Woe unto Skion, she who thinks she has earned the right to subjugate, enslave, and threaten. Woe to her people and woe to her heroes. And woe unto us, The Dominion of the Eagle, for taking her on in battle.
I may only beg her forgiveness and her patience.
In the early days of our tribulation she understood my hesitancy and my fear. Those Skion arrived with a thousand great warships and even one who had The Far Sight. If not for the colors of our livery they would have subjugated us or thrashed us to dust. Evana saw it, for she is wise. But I, and others, saw this even without her foresight. Still, she demanded we fight. Death before enslavement.
“Soak your streets in blood, then come and die with me,” she demanded. She would have us meet the night together, and experience the eternal embrace of her spirit. We were finally invited to settle upon her surface, to truly know her and be received by her. To die with her.
But I was afraid! Afraid of death and afraid of dying. Most of all I was afraid of the long dark without Evana’s light. Long have I bathed in it, and I admit I have become attached to it most selfishly; a child and her favorite doll. Forgive me Evana for my weakness! When I die she will welcome me into death and her light will sustain me forever. But, oh Evana, what if you, too, are slain? She will not answer me in this.
And so, in fear, I arranged to accept Skion’s offer of peace and false friendship. Our people were sent to die in their wars. The price of my selfishness is not lost on me, though I suppose it bought us time to prepare, dig in, and infiltrate.
We have run out of that time. Evana is drifting from us. Her orbit extends further every day, daring us to defy her a little longer. The tides are in flux. The light recedes. Oh, how I am starved for its purity!
The preparations are all made. The people are resentful, and restless, and they will carry out their orders. Artor is hesitant, but that is because he is a soldier and he has a soldier’s respect for our foe. I suspect that he will betray our purpose before the appointed time to soothe his guilt for this betrayal. It is only a hunch, and though I have tried to question Evana on this, she keeps her wisdom from me. There is only her repeated command, a single word repeated again and again with a rage that burrows deep into my skull and wails unceasingly.
“Die.”
And so I will speak as they do so that they may know fear in our last days:
Woe unto Skion, she who thinks she has earned the right to subjugate, enslave, and threaten. Woe to her people and woe to her heroes. And woe unto us, The Dominion of the Eagle, for taking her on in battle.