Land of Five

Discussion in 'Archive' started by Earphone, Mar 18, 2011.

  1. vulpeslagopus

    vulpeslagopus New Member

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    Randy Kimberly St.John

    Randy walked into the barber shop, and the first thing he noticed was a gaping hole in the roof 6'x8' wide.
    "holy ****", randy blurted looking at the atrociuos hole.
    "well hi", the barber said cheerfully. he was middled aged, husky and balding, yet he seemed to fill the image of a barber.
    "i..uh...im here to fix your roof", Randy said,"Arch sent me."
    "right, are you any good", he asked, raisin g one eyebrow.
    "iv'e been fixing stuff since i was 9", Randy said.
    "oh, so 3 years", the barber said cynically.
    Randy sighed," yes, im only 17, but i can work well".
    "well, i havent seen another carpenter in 3 months so sure, ill pay you...80 scale".
    "well, that sounds about right", Randy said," do you have any materials?"
    "yeah, im all set, just get to work", the barber said.
    "yes sir", randy said.

    _________________________________

    The third day of Randy's stay was coming to an end, he had made a temperary roof to hold untill he could fully repair the broken one. the wood was rotted pretty far in, an roughly 15'x18' would need to be removed to be safe and to be sure of the support, not to mention dry rot and mold. unfortuently, this job could take a pretty long time, maybe three weeks by himself, depending on how other parts of the roof looked.
    Randy stared up at the night sky, looking over the satars and moons. he bould see the sea, it was immaculate other than a few speckels sailing off in the distance. the moons had a nearly perfect reflection.the stars drifted away and the moon left randy's side...

    the saints know of your past, of the times before your birth and your future...

    Randy was back in the battle field again, he watched the man running again ,the strong, fast, powerful manrunning, ending any life that was foolish enough to cross his path, but like before, the man stumbled. he stopped moving. there wasn't man within 25 feet of him, but he lay there dead. had he had a heart attack, was he poisoned, how had this man died, maybe a previous injury.

    then men began to gather around the man...was he some sort of general, a military leader, an officer at least? what was the meaning of this, seeing this man died again. as Randy thought, it began to rain in the field.
    "oh damn", he said running for a tree, finally averting his gaze from the fallen man.
    he stopped to look back at the man, but all he saw was a wall of water hundreds off feet tall rushing at him.

    He sprung awake in an instant, his haert racing like it had before. the next thing he noticed was that he was drenched, how was he wet? then he felt the rain...he had fallen asleep on the roof. it was still night, so Randy ran to the curious owl. Arch was still up, it was eleven.

    "Caught in the rain", Arch asked knowing the answer.

    "Yeah, i fell asleep", Randy admitted.

    "Mr. Kaplan, you should really get to you room, make a fire and strip down, cover your self with a blanket and close you window", Arch told him," and for pete's sake, open the flu. you don't want to affixiate".

    "ill..uh, make sure to do that", randy said, walking to his room.
     
  2. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

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    For a while, I couldn't feel anything. No, wouldn't feel anything. I just sat in that cart, the breeze hitting my face, and clutched that ebony case. Cradling it like a child. I hadn't said a word to my companion, just content to sit in silence with the silver-haired assassin. The road gave us few bumps. They were created from the stone that was left after hollowing out Andant, symbolically showing the city's dominance over the country. The road was not at all uniform though, some segments merely plain, gray stone, while others were etched with symbols and carvings made by the villagers.

    I was happy to let my mind drift to such thoughts, as they tended to cloud the other feelings. Pushing them away until the thought was spent. I sighed, and reached for my whiskey. The burn it made on the way down another welcomed distraction. What I would give right now to hear a certain caw.

    Night seemed to come earlier, or perhaps I was merely so detached. I practically slammed on to my sleeping blanket, eager for the void it brought to my thoughts. I slept for several restless hours, dreaming sweet nothings before I felt a burning in my side. I gasp, reaching into my side pocket. I pull out the object the elderly Scion presented me. It was a simple crimson oval, held up by a silver chain. It glimmered quite beautifully in the night. It surface sizzled slightly to remind of its heat.

    I remembered the old man's words. I take the amulet and clutch in my hands, looking over to make sure my companion remained asleep. I walked away from the campsite, farther and farther away from the campsite. I was alone in a vast field, it was a bit too open for my likings, but all I had to work with. I put the amulet in front of my eyes, trying to figure out what the Grand Scion intended me to do with it.

    On a whim, I unwrap my left arm, looking over it's change in the moonlight. The arm now had a slight blue tint to it. My veins now glowed luminously in the night, widening my eyes. To my shock, I saw my arm fade to a pale outline for a few moments before shifting back to a solid. The red blood-rune on my shoulder glowed softly.

    I place the amulet in my cursed hand and on contact it's glow shinned brighter. So bright in fact I had to shield my eyes. When I opened them again, I saw the standing before me, well...hovering before me. A gasp escaped my lips.

    “Hello my boy.” comes a familiar warm voice.

    “What are you doing here!” I scream. My nerves a little unbalanced after the little spectacle.

    “For you training of coarse.” came his reply.

    I could only stare wide-eyed at the sensory overload that floated before me. Training?

    Sensing my confusion the elderly man continued speaking. “You see my boy, your rather...curious predicament is very interesting to me. You have gained the Gift without going through the trials, something that has never happened before.” His eyes once again had the excitement of a man impassioned.

    “It would be such a shame for that to go to waste, so I gave that amulet.” he says with a motion. “It contains a fragment of me so that you might learn how to utilize your power.”
    “Wait a minute.” I say rather sternly. Shaking a finger at the him. “Who said I wanted training?”

    “Who said you get a choice?” he says sternly. A crackling of energies arcing at his words.

    That managed to shut me up. A small smile crept up the old man's lips. He was enjoying this.

    “So what's first?” I ask.

    “First......” he begins, his eyes locked in concentration. “Ahhh of coarse, of coarse.” He says to himself.
    Once again rambling. It was more annoying than I remember.

    “Well..?” I say with a tone of irritation.

    “Oh. Sorry. Forgot you were there.” he chuckles.

    A scowl was my only answer.

    “I”m afraid we won't have the time tonight.” he begins. “Their is a task that begins a Scion's training that is essential, but time-consuming. We would have to begin at the start of nightfall.”

    “Oh.....Should I just head back to sleep then?” I say.

    And without a word the man standing before me erupted into a white light, blinding me once more. When I regained my vision, the amulet lay on the grass. I reach for it.

    “Guess that's a yes.” I said with a yawn.
     
  3. FaustusXIII

    FaustusXIII New Member

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    Jaedis Averian

    I awake rather groggy, trying to determine what broke my slumber. There was no dream tonight, but I don’t wake without cause. Dots in my vision make it seem like someone just shone a bright light in my eyes, but there is nothing around that seems to explain that. The moons are still up, so it wasn’t the rising sun. I run my eyes over the entire camp. Something seems to be… missing. Checking again, I tense in alarm. Where’s Kilas? He’s not with his blankets.

    Hopping up, I begin to search around – first casually, then with growing unease. He’s not in the camp at all. Perhaps he just had some personal night business… Grabbing my daggers and sliding on my jacket, I call out for him.

    “Ashenas? Hey, you out there?”

    No response. Damn, if he’s gone and gotten himself into more trouble already…
    Stepping around the side of the wagon, I nearly crash into him, stumbling backwards instead.

    “Oh, were you looking for me?” his tone is one of pure innocence.

    “Wha- I- What the hell were you doing? Why didn’t you answer me?”

    “You almost sound concerned, assassin,” his grin is smug but I can see the playful look in his eyes. I hope the darkness covers my blushing.

    “Well it doesn’t say much for my skills if I let my traveling companion get killed right under my nose…”

    Kilas continues grinning and attempts to prop himself against the wagon with his left arm. Immediately his smugness switches to shock as his arm phases straight through the wagon, causing his face to smash unceremoniously into the side. He rights himself quickly and proceeds to rub his bruised cheek. I find myself desperately trying not to laugh, but a slight snicker escapes nonetheless.

    “Well now, that’s a sound I never thought I’d hear from you,” he smiles again, wincing a bit, “It seems all it takes is a bruised ego to get an assassin to laugh. Glad I could oblige.”

    “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” I say, regaining my composure.

    “Right…” his sarcasm is obvious.

    “Here, let me see to that.”

    We sit down next to the dying fire as I apply some ointment to the scratches on his face. I notice that he never said what he was doing wandering around, but I suppose it’s really not my business. For now.

    “So, the arm still giving you trouble then?”

    “Yeah…” he looks down at it, flexing a bit.

    “Sorry to hear.”

    At this, he turns abruptly and looks deeply into my eyes, almost as if searching for something. We stay like this for a few moments before he breaks it, shaking his head. Apparently he didn’t find whatever it was.

    “I can’t quite figure you yet. One minute you threaten to kill me, the next you’re concerned for my safety. What am I supposed to get from that?”

    “You’re thinking about it too much. Go back to bed,” I give him a friendly shove before getting to my feet and heading back over to my sleeping spot. We should be hitting a town soon. I’d say maybe one more night – two at the most.
     
  4. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Rauo Curoh

    Drip... Drip...

    My throat pulsed as I felt a thin trickle of water wetting my lips. I didn't open my eyes, but lay drinking blindly from whoever held the water. I was aware that I was on my back, wrapped tightly in something soft. The yellow cloak...

    I opened my eyes, and was met with the same greyish blue flames. The sun had come out, I must have been sleeping. I noticed that the blue flames weren't quite as intense in the daylight, and I could make out most of the features of the strange person who was tipping a canteen into my mouth.

    He was short, with long wavy sandy-blonde hair. He had a long thin mouth, which was now in a grimace of concentration, revealing a row sharp teeth. From behind half closed lids, his large dark green eyes stared blankly at me. I met his gaze, and at once he stood to his feet, revealing a long bushy red tail, with a small black tip. I stared curiously at the apendage. It looked precisely like a fox's. Swallowing again, I winced as my throat cracked.

    Unsure whether I would be able to speak, I tried to wordlessly communicate with the strange man, asking him for more water. He stood still, staring blankly past me out into the sea. I was still on a boat it seemed. That would explain the light swaying of the floor beneath me. A small whimper escaped my lips, and the man leaned in to watch me.

    "-...-...-...W-..." The man tipped the canteen once again, and I drank generously, until the small tin was emptied. The man stared into the opening of the tin with what looked like disappointment, then sat down beside me. As he moved, I was able to see past him, and saw Getty tied against the mast, lying still. I looked back to the man, fear begininning to loom inside me. What had happened? Where was Orel?

    "O-..."

    "Stop trying to talk." The man said, in a soft baritone voice. He scratched his chin, then looked down at me. "My name is Laslo." He said softly, "I can't remember your name, but you can tell me later."

    I stared at him.

    "I wanted to be a bard, you know." He continued, though I suspected he was talking more to himself than to me. Perhaps he had just been waiting for someone to wake up. "I wanted to share my music with the world, and be acknowledged for it. Fourteen years later, here I am, with no money and no instrument." He lifted his right hand, and I saw that it was scabbed and filled with wooden chips.

    "I have nothing." He whispered, peering at me from the corner of his eye.

    I waited, expecting a followup sentence, but he remained silent. The blue flames that surrounded him seemed to grow, obscuring his features from my view, leaving a small shadowy sillouette.

    "Orel." I finally managed to say, my voice barely audible. Laslo's flames grew even more, and it was some time before he spoke.

    "He's dead."

    A weight slammed so hard onto my chest, I thought I would be sick. Dead? I had just seen him, seen his aura. What had happened? What had Laslo done?

    "He killed himself." He said, in answer to my unspoken question, "He's messed up everything."

    Laslo stood, and placed his hands over his face, and paced the deck of the boat, making soft noises.

    "Everything..." He repeated, lowering his hands to reveal a tear streaked face, "What am I going to do?"

    What was he talking about? I felt a sudden and unexpected rush of sorrow for the man. He seemed so sad. His shoulders shaking, he returned my side, and reached out a tentative hand; but immediately pulled it back.

    "I'll protect you." He whispered, not meeting my gaze, "When we reach land, I'll find you a healer. It won't be very long now."
     
  5. Vamp_fan22

    Vamp_fan22 New Member

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    "Ellisedd" I said softly. " Yes?" he answered just as softly, his tired eyes focused on the floor while I sat on the floor of my jail cell with my back turned to him. " Who was he? The man I killed." I asked. I stared at the wall in front of me. I didn't really care, but if the man had been a nobleman as Ellisedd had told me I could be put to death. And I didn't want to die like that. That wasn't how Brandt men went out. I waited for Ellisedd to answer but Ellisedd was quiet and I turned to look at him. He ran a hand through his black hair and frowned. I waited some more and slowly the tiny amount of control I had over my temper was starting to wear away. " Answer me! Tell me who he was, dammit!" I yelled angrily getting to my feet and running up to wear he stood, grabbing the bars of the cell so that we were face to face. " He was your uncle!" I stopped. The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I staggered away from the bars, my heart pounding furiously. " No. No! It's not true. It can't be" I clutched the bars tighter as my knees went weak. My uncle. I had killed my uncle. " I'm sorry." Ellisedd said resting a weathered hand on my white knuckled shaking hand.
     
  6. vulpeslagopus

    vulpeslagopus New Member

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    Randy Kimberly St. John

    Randy was up early,though he had a long day, he still took the time to watch the sun rise," peace, maybe the nations could exist together, without the pain of war, of death, maybe it could last...watch over this land kearin."
    Randy went to walk out the door, but then saw another one of natures beauties... the swift fox was sleeping in the corner of the room, near the fire place. He was wrapped tightly in a tiny ball of fur, it made Randy think of tel. After this, maybe he'd....either way, it was time for work.
    He started his trek down the stair case agian.
    "Aye Mr.Kaplan, off for another day of work?", Arch asked.
    "Yeah, gotta pay the rent," Randy joked", but i wish i wasnt so concerned with quality, thats a big job, it ill take me a good two weeks to finish".
    "Well, you outta get movin' Mr.Kaplan.", Arch said.
    Randy liked Arch, he reminded him of Hart,made him feel a little less home sick, were all inn keepers this nice, or was he just lucky.
    Randy Made his way to the barber shop,as he walkd, he wished he wasn't such an absolutist, that he didnt have to do everything to its full potential that he had to figure oit every peice of the puzzel, or fix them all, but it's just the way he was. Randy met with the barber and got to work. He began tearing away the bad roof immedietly, making his job harder, but better quality.By the time he finished, he decided it was time to take a brake, it was about lunch anyways.
    He climbed down the ladder to get lunch, maybe a beer, and saw the barber talking to another man, maybe 20 years old, brown hair, a mustache. as he reached the base of the ladder, The barber quickly turned to adress him.
    "aww, randy, terrific timing, i'd like you to meet paul...Arch's nephew, he's here to help you with the work, he's a carpenter, so his services should come in handy".
    "well, his help would half the time, but i need the 80 scale, i need to make fair for the ship", Randy said, feeling bad.
    "no worries, he's here for free, a favor to his uncle, and ive decided to up your pay, just enough to pay fare, i didnt expect so much commitment, your really taking this to 5 star quality", the Barber said, giving Randy a bit of a big head.
    "i'd turn you down , but im not really in any possition to do so", randy sid, assuring he had no plans to take advantage of the barber.
    The rest of the day, the men worked hard and secured the provisions for the next days work.
    Paul and Randy really hit it off, after about ten minutes of shared akward silence, both had lost parents in the war of five, paul had only lost his father, but it was still a very painful experience. Randy offered to buy him a beer so the two headed off to the curious owl.
    "Paulie", Arch said, loudly greeting his nephew over the noise," i assume you and mr. kaplan are getting along famously?"
    "of course uncle", paul said very formally.
    "good, good", Arch said," so what can i get you men, on the house of course".
    "i don't know how you keep this place in buisness, with all of the slack you offer me", randy said jokingly.
    "well, the curious owl offers more than alcahol and board mind you", Arch said refering to the prostitutes.
    "of course", randy said, drinking an ale with his new friend.
     
  7. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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  8. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Laslo Windstride

    The girl watched me, as I sat beside her. I felt embarrassed at my show of emotion. I felt different somehow. My thoughts were interrupted by a small gurgle emanating from the girl.

    "Are you well enough to eat?" I asked.

    Closing her eye, she nodded weakly, and I slowly raised her so that she was leaning against the side of the boat. She whimpered in pain as her back made contact against the rough wood, but made no objections. Inwardly hoping that I was doing the right thing, I began digging through the ginger haired man's haversack. I had found some food in it already, which I myself had eaten, and had also found the canteen. Surely there would be more food.

    Eventually, my hand closed on a loaf of bread, and I pulled it out, then returned to the girl. She was staring back at the unconscious man as I leaned down beside her, and began tearing the bread into smaller portions.

    "W-w-w-will he be alright?"

    I frowned at the girl. Her speech was heavily slurred, almost unintelligible. Attributing this to her injuries, I fed her a small amount of bread. Her arms were still wrapped tightly in my cloak, and I had no intention of loosening it until I had a bandage for her back, as well as new clothes. Taken by a sudden idea, I began searching through my own pack that I carried over my shoulder with one hand, still feeding the girl partials of bread with the other. I began digging through it, until I found what I was looking for. I pulled out a simple white shirt, and began tearing it into strips, with one extra long one for the girl's head.

    "L-Laslo..." The girl muttered.

    I didn't respond, but continued in my task of ripping the shirt, until it lay in twelve even strips, with one other that was longer. I lifted it to the girl's head, but she pulled away, almost falling over.

    "H-...h-how did Orel kill himmm-...self?"

    "Stop talking, you're too weak; you need to rest." I said, trying once more to wrap the makeshift bandage around the girl's head, but again she pulled away. She gave me a pitiful look, tears brimming in her eye.

    "I n-need to know." She said, pulling away from me further, "P-...lease."

    I felt irritated, and bit my lip as the girl began to tremble.

    "Plea-"

    "He killed himself to try to help you!" I burst out, almost in a shout. The girl shrank back, and I closed my eyes, trying to keep my voice in check, "He knew about those men's plan, thought they wouldn't go through with it. I saw that man take you, and tried to tell him, but he had already gone to this man's boat." -I pointed to the man slumped against the mast- "I knocked this man unconscious... Orel told me twice in the time that I knew him that he thought you would like me. With that, he sealed me in an unbreakable oath to protect you."

    Listening to what had happened was almost laughable. It could pass for a fairytale, not for real life. The girl stared at me for a long time, before asking, "He used magic?"

    Biting my lips even harder, I nodded. The girl cast her gaze down at the cloak that encased her.

    "I knew what he w-was." She said softly, "I kn-kn-knew w-w-w-what it did to him..."

    I didn't know what to say. I could only watch as the girl began to cry silently, tears running down her round pale face. I stared out into the sea, and saw the tips of spiral towers in the distance. We would be there soon.

    "What is your name?" I asked softly.

    "R-Rauo..."

    I turned in time to see the ginger haired man quickly close his eyes. Immediately on the alert, I rose to my feet. The ropes tying the man to the mast were loosened. How long had he been awake?
     
  9. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

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    I awoke to sunlight creeping softly over the horizon. The grassy hills illuminated by the dew on each blade of grass. I felt quite rejuvenated now that I thought about it, practically leaping from my blanket. I ran my hand through my hair to shake away the morning moisture, stretching slightly to get my blood flowing. With the morning grogginess steadily drifting away, I noticed my left arm was bare. Even though it happened days ago, it still felt so...unnatural. I had a hazy memory of it phasing through the cart, explaining the slight swelling on my face. I look around to find my crimson wrappings under the cart, swiftly covering my arm. Acting quickly I wrapped my dirtied sleeping blanket into a roll and tossed it with a soft thump into the sparsely cluttered cart.

    I myself quickly followed after the blanket, digging around to find a bag of seed. When I found the simple, roughly sewn bag, I vaulted out of the cart with a strange enthusiasm. I felt wonderful this morning. An alien smile had somehow plastered itself on my lips. I walked with a skip towards the traveling elekk loudly snoring a small ways from the campsite, it's reins tied to a small tree. It's fur was a dark brown with cream spots. It's horns jetted out of its skull to almost double the head's height. I grabbed onto the surprisingly smooth bone to shake the animal awake.

    I awoke with a snort and stubbornly shoved me a away with it's horns, the bone colliding with my stomach to make a soft groan escape from me. I pulled myself up and grabbed on to the stubborn beasts horns and shoved the bag of feed into it's flat-toothed maw and tied the straps. With it bag of feed attached it began munching away rather happily, but not before giving me a resilient glare and a soft growl.

    “Oh shut up.” I say with a chuckle.

    I walk back to the campsite to find Jaedis still wrapped in her blankets, softly sleeping. I approach her, kneeling down to place my right hand on her shoulder. Her eyes spring open. In a whirl of silver hair twinkling in the new day a small blade shot from her left wrist, blinding me slightly with it's gleam, and embedded itself onto my left hand, pinning me to the ground. I winced, expecting pain, but noticed that my left arm had once again gone transparent, the hidden blade having only hit the grass below. My crimson cloth was once again undone and laying over the ground. The silver haired woman looked at me with wild-eyes as realization set in. If it weren't for my good mood I may have been angry with her.

    “Kilas?” she says groggily. Her slender blade sinking back into her leather vambrace.

    “Someone's not a morning person.” I say with a sliver of sarcasm. Talk about understatements. Thank the Old Ones for this arm, I think to myself......There's a thought I assumed I'd never say, looking at my abominable arm. And now I have to train as a Scion, remembering the meeting with the old man I have tonight. Not my luckiest few days. I reach into my pocket to feel the cool surface of the amulet. A shiver goes up my spine.

    I walk away from the assassin as she shook of the morning grogginess, grabbing my wrappings as I did. I go into the cart to grab some bread, one for me and for my slightly dangerous companion. I leave her portion on the side of the cart and began humbling nibbling away at it. I had just finished the last of it and was lighting up a cigarette when Jaedis walked up the cart, her sleeping cloth carefully folded. Her knives gleaming at her sides. She placed it into the cart and grabbed for her bread.

    “Sorry about that.” she says rather sheepishly. “I'm not used to being awoken.”

    “No hard feelings.” I say with a shrug, blowing out a smoke ring. The tiny ember on the tip of my cigarette letting off it's own little stem of smoke.

    She looked at me quite strangely for a few moments. Her eyes looking me over as if she intended to find something. Eventually she just gave up and shrugged. Walking towards the elekk to untie it from the tree. She turned her head slightly as she went.

    “You seem in a good mood.”

    “I am.” I reply with a smirk. Amazing what a good night's sleep can do.

    She turned around shaking her head, hiding her own smirk quite well. After a few minutes I see her walking aback, the feed bag slung across her shoulder and the elekk in tow, it's eyes content and complacent. Without even a smidgen of resilience, the animal let the young assassin place place over the cart's harness and tightly strap it in. It let out a soft purr, or whatever it's equivalent would be for such a massive creature. She gently scratched behind its ear. I glared daggers at that animal.

    She stopped to look at me a moment, looking as if she were about to say something. Her hand suddenly went for her head, wobbling as if dizzy. She dropped to her knees looking squeamish. I reach out my hand towards her, but she just pushed it away. Then I noticed my arm, and my crimson wrappings were still in my pocket. Stupid, stupid idiot. She fell to the ground, her eyes glazed over.

    I turned away from her, trying as quickly as possible to wrap my arm. As I finished, I turned to see Jaedis up on her feet again, color starting to return to her face, wobbling slightly as she walked to the cart. She threw me a well-justified glare. My eyes looked to her knives, which thankfully were not in her hands. She pushed silver hair out of her face.

    “Sorry.” I say rather pitifully,staring down at my filthy sandals.

    “Guess were even?” I look up to say, a bit of mock pity coating my tone.

    She scoffed and wordlessly vaulted into the cart. My carefree smirk was now replaced by one of smugness. I chuckle dryly as I leap after her, flicking my cigarette away, already having another one lit up as I sat in the cart. With a whip of the reins, Jaedis had the cart up and moving. The elekk dragging it up the slight slope and back on to the stone roadway. I slumped in my chair, leaning back to gaze at the sky.

    Except for an occasional bump, the ride was relatively smooth. We must have awoken quite early, as the sky retained the pinkish hue of dawn. I turned around in my seat, reaching around to my sack to grab my flask of liquor. I slumped back again to take a swig. Jaedis looked at me with revulsion.

    “Little early for a drink, is it not?” she said with a very unapproved tone. I didn't answer, merely taking another swig, giving her a sly grin.

    “What are you so keen to forget?” she says turning away back to the road.

    I give her a slight shrug. “Kar'ha sayana melit.”

    She throws me a confused glance. I smirk enough to show a little teeth. I hold back a chuckle.

    “What's set in stone is hard to change.”

    The explanation didn't seem to help her mood. She just turned away back to the elekk, cracking the reins to quicken it's pace.

    “Back in Celia we have our own saying.”

    “Do you now?” I reply with mock interest. Taking another swig of my drink.

    “When presented with a sickness, cut out it's source.”

    “What does that ha-” I began to say, before a leather boot collided with the clear flask, knocking the acidic drink into the air. I watch it, gaping in shock. I reach my arm out to catch it, leaning over from the cart as far as I could reach. With a thump I feel the glass hit my hand, a sigh of relief comes over me. I clench it gingerly, about to lash out at the brash assassin.

    I feel my arm go numb, and hear a sickening crash of glass. I turn ever so slowly to see my flask, now broken, laying over the stone road. It's precious contents creating a rather large puddle. The blue-ish tint of my arm twinkled in the morning light. My crimson wrappings floated carelessly in the breeze.

    Jaedis learned a few new Farisian swears that day.
     
  10. FaustusXIII

    FaustusXIII New Member

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    Jaedis Averian

    I feel a smug satisfaction at the loss of Kilas’ booze. It was unnecessary and not attractive in the slightest. Also, I often find myself lacking in the patience required to deal with drunkards. More than one has had their manhood nearly taken due to the inability to keep their hands to themselves… I’d rather not take the chance of Ashenas being one such individual.

    Looking over at him from the corner of my eye, I see him grumbling angrily to himself with shoulders hunched and arms crossed. Noticing the looseness of the wrappings on his left arm, I quickly avert my gaze. I’d rather not experience that again. The Grand Scion had said something about his altered arm having adverse effects on normal people, but I had thought I might be fine. I mean, I saw it for a while after it happened and didn’t feel a thing. My brow furrows in annoyance. I hate being helpless against things I don’t understand.

    Smoke floats lazily in front of my face before I swipe it away. How many cigarettes does this man have?! I swear there must be an endless supply somewhere on his person. If he’s not sleeping, he’s smoking – or at least it seems like it. It really can’t be good for him. One bad habit at a time though. At least this one doesn’t so much directly affect me.

    The cool morning breeze turns into a balmy afternoon whispering as we continue to make good time. Who knows? We might even reach town before nightfall! Kilas nodded off a ways back and continues snoozing next to me, extinguished cigarette still between his lips. My mood has been steadily rising with the temperature. It’s a beautiful day and flowers bloom all over the surrounding countryside. Sometimes the simple pleasures are really all one needs.

    I’m beginning to fight dozing off myself when I see the elekk’s ears perk up near dusk. Snapping to attention, I begin to scan the horizon for what might be disturbing the beast. I can feel it before I see it. The hair on my arms slowly stands on end as static electricity begins to build up in the air. The breeze dies down completely, leaving the atmosphere stale and humid. Without warning the sky darkens to a charcoal gray, large clouds roiling against each other. A small outcropping of rocks catches my eye a little ways off the main road and I quickly change course. Switching to the bumpy terrain jolts Kilas awake.

    “What are you doing? The main road is back that way!”

    My response is drowned out as a large crack echoes through the sky. We barely make it into the semi-shelter of the first large rock before the heavens open and a torrential downpour is unleashed. We scramble around, trying to protect everything from the rain as much as possible. In doing so, however, getting soaked to the bone is completely unavoidable. Finally satisfied that everything important is relatively safe, we build a tiny fire, grab the mercifully dry blankets, and plop down as far from the rain as possible. Looks like we won’t be making it to town tonight after all.

    The fire tries valiantly, but it is unable to give off much heat. I find myself shivering uncontrollably, even under the blanket – which is not quite so dry anymore. Looking over at Kilas, I can see him doing the same. Our eyes meet, and there’s an uncomfortable few moments before a mutual conclusion is made. Sidling closer to him, he opens his blanket and I press myself against his right side, extending my blanket over him as well. He retightens his blanket around us and drapes his arm over my shoulders.

    “Don’t get any ideas…” I glare at him.

    “Heh. Right,” he grins back impishly.

    So far the plan is working. I begin to feel much warmer and less like a drowning rat. The sudden warmth starts to make me a bit sleepy and without thinking I snuggle my head against Kilas’ chest. I watch through half-closed eyes as the sky begins to clear, the rain lessening to a soft patter. Night has begun to fall.

    “Jaedis…?” Kilas begins haltingly.

    “Hm?”

    “Why is your hair silver? I mean, what made it that way?”

    “Oh... Well, I died once. When I was small. But they brought me back. Hair was never the same though. Won’t produce color. Eyes lost most color too…” I say all this as though in a dream, the feelings of warmth and security overpowering me like a haze. Snuggling once more against the largest source of heat, I fall into a sleep deeper than any I can remember.
     
  11. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Rauo Curoh

    I was devastated. Orel dead? I'd just seen him... I'd just seen him...

    "What is your name?" Laslo asked, in a gentle tone.

    "R-Rauo..." I answered.

    As I spoke, Laslo turned to stare at Getty, who had made movement. Laslo took a step toward the man, then back; as if undecided. He looked at me, then back at the man, then began to pace. All the while, Getty lay motionless; apparently unconscious.

    I was feeling stronger after Laslo's treatment, and could converse. I could tell Laslo about Getty, then maybe he wouldn't hurt him... The question was though, if I really wanted to speak at all. I'd seen the look Laslo had given me. I felt hurt and embarrassed, but what could I do about it?

    "You." Laslo finally said, making me jump. He was pointing at Getty, and standing several feet away from him. "You're awake?"

    Getty lay silent. I knew he was thinking, hard. It wasn't the first time I'd seen him pretend to be asleep, or dead. I'd been convinced myself, until I'd seen his eyes flicker. Laslo stepped forward, and prodded Getty with his foot. It seemed to be the moment he'd been waiting fir. Getty seized Laslo's foot, and lifted it high, making him lose his balance. Grabbing his shirt front with his free hand, Getty hulred Laslo into the mast. He fell coughing and gasping to the deck.

    All I could do was watch. I was helpless, always had been. I hated it, I needed to help. But how? I had a headache, and winced as waves of pain shot through my temples. I closed my eye, trying to think of something, as Getty and Laslo wrestled across the boat, neither gaining the upper hand. Getty was severely weakened, but it seemed that Laslo had little to no muscles to give him any advantage.

    I clenched my teeth as a fresh wave of pain assailed me. I could feel something behind my eye. It felt like twisting, and it was all I could do not to cry out. I was afraid of distracting either man, lest they be killed. I heard one of the men shout something, and opened my eye. The scene before me was frozen like a painting. Laslo had Getty by the collar, and Getty had him by the arms, and both were frozen in mid-air over the side of the boat.
     
  12. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

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    The fire flickered defiantly despite it's size. The heat was little, but welcome. I noticed my new-found friend huddled close to me for warmth, her breathing soft to indicate sleep. Her words ringed in my mind. “Back from the dead, eh?” I mumble softly to myself. Hope she's tight-lipped about that little piece of her life. I can't imagine the Scion Orders even blinking before declaring her Malevolent. And their ways of dealing with such people usually involve torches. Always torches with those people.

    I lay there for an hour, letting the young woman drift deeper into sleep. When I felt sure she wouldn't wake easily, I cautiously shifted out of her arms. Laying down my own blanket to act as a cushion, I softly place her on her back. When I was sure she was comfy, I tiptoed away from the dingy campfire to the cart.

    I took a moment for the cold to reach me, and an involuntary shiver went through my spine. Damn this cold. And damn my chivalry for giving up my blanket. I swore softly, my breath visible in the night. I looked up at the overhanging rock to see the pouring rain flow off it, creating a small waterfall. I clutch myself, shivering. I glance back at my companion, seeing her shivering despite her blankets. I sigh, and reach into my back pocket.

    I pull out my small pouch of cigarettes. And with the utmost despair held them over the fire. That liquor wasn't cheap. It was a c.347 Goldstock. A very good year. Something that would have a place in a nobleman's cellar, not unceremoniously kicked on to the road. But it was nothing to freeze to death over. With that I drop the bag along with it's precious contents into the flame. Making the fire almost erupt before shrinking to a modest and warm flame. Should last a couple hours.

    I sigh as I step out into the rain, cursing loudly at the coldness. I ran through it, putting some distance between me and the camp. When I felt I was far enough I stopped to pull out the amulet. I looked at it for a moment, wondering as to how I would use it. When suddenly in a familiar flash of light there stood the elderly Scion. He looked at me and my pitiful shivering, and chuckled a little as he noticed the rain. The apparition raised it's hand and with a soft humming strange symbols glowered on his hand. A barrier seemed to erect itself around us. The rain droplets hitting at the invisible surface.

    “That should do it.” he says to himself.

    He looks down seriously at me. I must of looked pathetic with the shivering.

    “What I am about to put you through is without words. It is a trial by fire all with the Gift must go through. Normally we would have a ring of wards as a safeguard against...accidents. But your situation does not give us much to work with.”

    Before I could even begin to mouth a protest, a hand shot out to my forehead and the world evaporated.

    Suddenly, it was if I were flowing in a grand sea. In the physical my body fell to the ground hard, but it felt as if it were a great distance away. Time had no meaning here, it had no place. I saw empires fall and rise from the ash. I saw the births of millions of children and the deaths of millions in war. Here is where emotions could gain form, where beings lived that were far to vast for comprehension. My own self had become a silvery outlining, my left arm a solid gray. I could see malicious wisps, beings without shape, coming towards me. There eyes, as ever changing as they were, were so...hungry.

    I tried to fly, to swim away. Ghost-like tendrils flew out towards me, I looked back to see fangs growing in place, ready to rip me apart. I suppressed a scream. I put my arms out, emotions of rear and rage boiling inside me. Suddenly grey fire erupted from my solid grey arm, utterly destroying the creatures. I looked dumbstruck, looking down at my grey hand, small flames still smoldering on the surface.

    I drifted further for what felt like eons, until I came upon a unending chasm. It called to me, and I reached for it. It could feel the void reaching into my chest, but I couldn't stay away from it. I made the mistake of looking into the blackness, the void. Taking in all the lost secrets it had to offer. I screamed.

    I awoke to a slap to my face, and a familiar elderly face standing over me. He puts a hand up.

    “What you saw was for you only.”

    With that he disappeared and the rain once more drenched me. I try to stand, my whole body quivering with a fear I couldn't even understand. I felt bile go up my throat, but managed to swallow it down. The blackness was everywhere, it consumed, it.... I suddenly heard a cawing noise filling my ears, interrupting my thoughts. I spin around, looking for the source of the familiar sound, but found nothing.

    I felt broken. I felt tired. I walked back to the camp, grateful the assassin still slept. Her breathing soft and the fire still warm. How long was I gone? I stripped down to my loins, laying the soaking clothing over near the fire to dry. I sat there huddled and near naked, drifting further into my thoughts. I saw many things within that great nothingness. But one stuck closer than the others. I saw myself.

    I'd like to say I eventually fell asleep. I'd like to. But such oblivion was not for me this night. And I lay huddled against a dwindling fire. Muttering to myself.
     
  13. FaustusXIII

    FaustusXIII New Member

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    Jaedis Averian

    The city looms on the horizon, its outer wall blocking most of the buildings from view. A pang of familiarity hits me as I look at the one large building still visible atop a winding hill, but I quickly push it away. In my work I had seen many such cities. The likelihood of my having been to this particular one is really quite low.

    Once inside, we quickly find a stable to house the wagon and elekk for the night. There is still a good many hours of daylight left but the poor guy deserves a good rest and nutritious food. I am also in the mood for a nice hot meal. First things first though, it’s time to resupply. I can hear Kilas rummaging around in the back, trying to make sure everything remains safe until our return. He had been rather subdued all day and a bit touchy. Not sure if it was the wetness or the fact that I hadn’t seen him light up a cigarette even once all day. He almost looked like death itself when I got up this morning. I was somewhat off myself, still a bit embarrassed at my actions the night before. I actually snuggled – what was I thinking? And did I really tell him my secret…?

    “Hey, Ashenas, you coming?” I shout in his general direction.

    “Yeah yeah,” he pops out from around the side. “Where to?”

    “Marketplace. Perhaps we’ll hear of a good place to head next while we stock up.”

    And so we set off. Kilas and I both examine the large variety of wares offered by the stands lining the street. It is a calm feeling, two traveling companions just looking for supplies, though the sheer number of people around is a bit disconcerting for me. The main topic of conversation seems to be the Signing coming up soon. Perhaps that’s where we could head next. It might be nice to see the event that’s supposed to end it all – all the war, the hate… In passing, I hear a town crier.

    “Welcome to Nostrana! Lord Sharel greets you with the warmest hospitality!”

    A creeping discomfort sets in again. ‘Nostrana’… it sounds familiar. Too familiar. If this is the location of that one assignment… My eyes dart around suspiciously. When did those guards get there? Some on the corners, some in alleyways. They weren’t there before. Seeing Kilas look longingly at a tobacco stand, I hand him some coin and tell him to go refill.

    "You want me to get more? I thought it bothered you," he frowns.

    "Everyone deserves a little vice now and then I suppose," I smile slightly.

    He looks at me suspiciously, but makes his way to the stand. While he's distracted, I head to a less crowded area of the market. Barely any passersby are around.

    It’s mere moments before I see the guards make their way into the section, multiple on each route. They know.
    Kilas is still having trouble with his arm, there’s no way I can drag him into this. If things go sour, he could be captured or even killed just for being with me. A quick glance tells me he's still busy. I'm sorry... looks like we'll be splitting up after all.

    Whirling around, I grab a random merchant and swing him in between me and the guards, pressing my back against a wall and my blade against his throat - gently, of course. I plant my other hand over his mouth to ensure he doesn’t draw more attention.

    “Assassin! Clear the way!” One of the guards shouts. The merchants panic and bolt, stumbling over one another to get out of the area. The guards let them pass before closing ranks once more.
    “You should not have returned, assassin,” the guard with the most elaborate uniform steps forward. He must be the captain. None of the guards have even drawn their weapons yet. They know they hold the upper hand. “Let the civilian go and we may show you mercy.”

    I smile smugly, and watch as his eyes narrow. “Fine. Take him!”
    Removing my hand and blade, I shove the merchant with tremendous force. He loses balance and crashes into the surprised captain. Not waiting to see what happens next, I launch myself onto one of the carts and leap to the rooftops, breaking into a sprint. This should give them some trouble.

    However, it’s my turn to be surprised as I see the guards from below appear on the roof next to me. Rather than attempt to keep step with me, I see them each pull out a crossbow. Not good. There’s no real cover on the roofs. I continue on for a bit before I feel the first bolt whiz by my head. Vaulting across a gap, another sings past. I need to find a way down, but these buildings are too high now… Screeching to a halt, I face a terrible impasse - I’m out of roof.

    Looking over my shoulder, I can still see the bowmen making their way steadily towards me while waiting for a clear shot. Guess I’ll have to take a chance. Dropping over the side, I attempt to find finger-holds in the building and begin inching my way downwards. It’s tedious work and taking much longer than I have. I make surprising headway in a few spots and now find myself about halfway down the building. Still not quite safe for a jump though. As I reach for the next finger-hold, a bolt shoots down and clips my shoulder. The pain startles me and I lose my grip, feeling myself fall backwards into space. The sensation of falling is not a pleasant one and I brace myself as best I can for the impact that is bound to come.

    Sure enough, I hit the ground with a sickening thud, all the air expelling from my lungs. Lying there for a bit, I’m able to regain some breathing capability before staggering up and heading for the shadowy areas between buildings. Unsure of direction, I eventually find myself in a shaded courtyard at the center of four large buildings. Bracing myself against the wall, I continue trying to recover from the fall.

    “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”

    My body stiffens and I back into the middle of the courtyard, away from the voice. I watch in disbelief as the captain and his men emerge from the shadows all around the edges. I finally understand what this is.

    “You’ve been trained as assassins…”

    He smiles darkly. “Not exactly. We have been trained to counter assassins.”

    “How? The art is very secretive. No true assassin would do such a thing.”

    “Come with us and I’ll show you.”

    “No chance,” I reply icily, slowly unsheathing my blades.

    “So be it,” he motions to his men, all wielding their weapon of choice, and the fight ensues.

    The battle is intense, but I am not easily bested. Though they may have training, my speed and agility far outmatch theirs. One after another, I incapacitate them. I avoid vital blows if possible - these men are merely tools and are no true enemies of mine. My chest is on fire as I fight to breathe, but all pain is pushed aside as I sweep through their ranks. They should’ve stuck with the crossbows. Close range is my specialty.

    I slice the chest of a guard and raise my blade to cut the next when suddenly I feel a thin, weighted string wrap itself around my wrist, holding my arm in place. Furious, I swing my other dagger around to cut through the string. Before it connects, a second string comes from the opposite direction and entwines my other wrist. Both are pulled taut, digging into my wrists, and my arms stretch out to either side despite my best efforts. My daggers fall to the ground. Rage builds as I attempt to break free, but my arms are completely immobilized. The remaining guards have stopped attacking. Why are they just standing there?! They are all looking past me at something… or someone. It must be him – their trainer. I begin to devise some way out of this. My hidden dagger is still locked in, I may be able to use it to cut one of the strings. Once one is gone, the other is easily taken care of.

    Before I can begin, I hear the crack of a whip and thick leather wraps itself around my neck. My air is cut off once more as I am wrenched backwards, crashing to the ground. I still can’t move my arms, and I feel the circulation in my hands beginning to fail. My vision blurs as I fight for air, the whip constricting my throat. A dark shape moves into sight, but I can’t make out the details. I hear a man’s voice though… strangely familiar. It sounds like he’s smiling.

    “Hello, Silverwing.”

    Everything goes dark.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    My senses come back to me slowly. First is sound – I can hear water dripping from afar and echoing, as though in a cave. I try to open my eyes but find only blackness. There seems to be something blocking my vision. Then, I feel. The dull pain of a hundred small points poised against the skin. My body jerks in reaction and I feel them dig in all over. I try to avoid crying out by gritting my teeth, only to discover that my jaws are forced apart by something both in and over my mouth. It is probably meant to keep tortured prisoners from biting their tongues off, but this one has been altered to prevent sound from escaping as well.

    In an attempt to ignore the pain, I take stock of my situation as best I can without being able to see through what I presume is a blindfold. I seem to be upright, though I can’t feel my feet touching anything. The lack of weight on my shoulders tells me that my jacket has been removed, and I can tell that my vambrace and daggers have been as well. My heart sinks as I discover something else – I can’t move in the slightest. I can feel some sort of strong cord wrapped all over my body, somehow lined with the barbs that I’m trying to ignore.

    Whoever captured me knows how to prevent a skilled assassin from escaping. My legs up to the knees are wrapped both individually and together and bound tightly against a post running all the way up the center of my back. My arms are pinned uncomfortably behind me with the barbed cord pressing them snugly together from the wrists to the elbows, causing my back to arch unnaturally. More cords encircle my torso and neck, fully binding me to the post and making any thought of movement unlikely. While the restraints themselves are daunting, even more so is the pain caused by struggling against them. I do my best to keep perfectly still, but even then the points nag at me.

    Suddenly, I hear a door opening from somewhere nearby. Knowing it’s pointless to turn my head in an attempt to see them, I simply wait for whoever it is to approach. Footsteps stop in front of me and wait for a few moments, making me uneasy. I feel a gloved hand begin undoing first the gag, then the blindfold. As they fall away, it takes a moment for my eyes to get used to the relative darkness. Once they do, I wish I had remained blind. A myriad of emotions assault my mind – surprise, sorrow, hurt, rage. But most of all, I feel hate. Pure, unadulterated hate.

    “You,” I hiss.

    “Jaedis Averian. It really has been a long time,” his smile is reptilian.

    “You should be dead, Cide.”

    “You’re probably right,” he laughs coldly, “But I’m not.”

    “What are you doing here?” I ask harshly, biting back the pain as the barbs continue to dig into me.

    “Funny story, that. Once I left Ceilien, I really had no clue where to go. Then I thought of something: who better to hire a former Ceilien assassin than someone wanting revenge? So, I came here. You remember this town don’t you? This was one of your first assignments. A nasty bit of work too. Let’s just say that the brother of the Lord you killed was more than willing to hire me if I could prepare his men to deal with our kind if they ever returned again. Of course, nothing could prepare them for someone of your caliber. Even so, I thought they did rather well.”

    “Traitorous bastard!”

    “Now now, just because I abandoned my kingdom at its moment of need doesn’t make me a traitor. Necessarily. Oh but wait, that’s not what you’re angry about, is it?” He smiles cruelly, bringing his face close to mine. “You’re still mad about that night.”

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Four years ago

    “Jaedis, come here quick!” Raizen shouts.

    “What? What is it?” I run to catch up to him on the large hill overlooking the camp.

    He smiles at me hugely, reaching out a hand to help me up the rest of the way and turning me away from the camp to look at the huge lake lying in the valley. I never did understand how he could be so happy and carefree in our line of work, but he was nice to be around all the same.

    “Check out the moons, they’re enormous tonight. And beautiful.”

    We both sit down in the lush grass and just watch as Malog'gorath and Myyrosak make their trek through the sky.

    “Sooo… will you sing for me, Jaedis? It’s been a while,” he prods gently.

    “What? No. I don’t really do that much you know. It was an accident that you heard me the first time.”

    “C’mon, just one song? It can be a short one.”

    “Fine,” I give in, smiling at his persistence.

    I start to sing one of my favorite songs, but instead we’re both startled by loud shouting coming from the camp behind us. We turn to find the camp in flames, with the screams of dying men permeating the air. Raizen was a Ceilien assassin too, and with a nod we both split up and take off down the hill.

    I stop at the first soldier I find still alive and ask him what happened. Horror fills his eyes as he speaks one word: Cide. I stop and stare in disbelief. Cide? But he was one of ours - an assassin like me and Raizen.

    “Are you sure?”

    Before he can respond, a throwing knife embeds itself in his neck. I start to turn, but I know it’s too late. Cide is already lunging for me, a maniacal look in his eyes. There’s no way I can bring my blades up to block in time so I just watch, seemingly in slow motion. A blur flashes through my peripheral and time speeds up again. I find myself face to face with Raizen. A sword protrudes from his chest and blood slowly trickles from his mouth.

    My heart stops. This can’t be happening. We were talking and laughing with one another mere moments ago. I stand in shock as the sword is wrenched from him and he falls forward into my arms. Holding him close, I slowly sink to the ground.

    “Your turn, Silverwing!” Cide raises his blade again, but I ignore him - my sole focus on Raizen.

    There’s a shrill whistle followed by a thud and Cide staggers back, clutching the shaft of an arrow in his shoulder. Cursing loudly, he sees the rest of the camp with bows at the ready and decides flight may be the best option for now. With a final crazed laugh, he vanishes into the night.

    I know this happens, but I don’t comprehend it. As more and more of Raizen’s blood darkens the earth, I can feel a piece of myself dying. I see drops of water fall onto his face and wonder absentmindedly if it has started raining.

    “Jaedis…” his eyes are filled with warmth and caring as a gentle smile touches his lips. “It’s not your fault. Please don’t cry…”

    “Why? Why did you step between us?”

    “You’re special. You always have been. Never forget…” his smile fades and the light in his eyes dies out.

    At that moment, my spirit breaks. The remaining men stand watch in silence as I scream from a wound deeper than flesh.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Cide sees the pain in my eyes and laughs.

    “You know, I was surprised when nobody ever came to kill me.”

    “If I had known you were here, I would have made sure not to disappoint,” I say through gritted teeth.

    “Oh I’m sure. By the way, I heard about that incident with the Count. Never would have though you the type to kill a child, but-”

    I throw all my weight towards him, rocking the post’s platform and causing him to hop back. I get a twinge of satisfaction at the fear I see in his eyes. A glint of light is visible just past Cide. My daggers. Jacket and vambrace too. If only one of those daggers was in my hand right now… I begin to feel the wet warmth of blood as it seeps from the dozens of deep gashes now in my skin. My mind is shrieking in pain, but rage blocks it out for the moment.

    “Cute,” he sneers, “but not exactly the smartest move. What do you think of this new cord of ours? It’s meant for other uses, but I find it to be rather helpful here. The barbs are quite dull, but they work just fine if you press them hard enough.” He shoots his arm out and grasps my neck, slowly applying pressure. His glove protects him from the barbs, but I am not so lucky. It’s all I can do not to scream as he forces the dull points deeper and deeper into my flesh. Finally, he stops.

    “You’re lucky the barbs aren’t long enough to puncture your arteries. Then you could be in serious trouble.”

    I fight to remain conscious as my blood slowly continues to leak out, forming small pools as it drips to the platform. The pressure on my bonds increases as I become unable to support myself any longer, head falling forward slightly. Cide moves close once more, lifting my chin with his finger and looking into my eyes.

    “You’ve grown soft, Silverwing.”

    “I don’t go by that name anymore,” I manage to growl.

    “Yes, so I hear. You and I used to be so alike. Silverwing would never have let these guards live, nor would she have felt anything over the death of some worthless child. Compassion and regret are no tools for an assassin.”
    “But then you met Raizen,” he spits the name out with distaste. “He poisoned you with feeling. He destroyed the perfect killing machine you were meant to be. That night, I had hoped to kill you and release you from that tragic existence. When Raizen died instead, I thought it might bring you back. Instead it only pushed you further away. Even dead, that sentimental fool held sway over you.”

    His words infuriated me, but my rage died along with my remaining energy.

    “Now I have you once more. This time there is no-one to get in my way. You’re an assassin still, and assassins are alone. An assassin without an employer may as well be a ghost. You are dead to the world. I will bring Silverwing back, and together we will take this land by storm – starting with the Signing.”

    He lets my head fall and laughs maniacally as he makes his way to the door, slamming it shut behind him. I am left to fade in and out of consciousness, time losing all meaning. Two faces are ever-present in my mind: Raizen… and Kilas. I couldn’t save the first. Hopefully the second stays safe…
     
  14. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

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    To me, time lost any meaning. I sat there, half naked, huddled near a small, dying fire, and I cried. It was a sob of absolute desperation. I was so tired, but could not sleep. It felt as if my mind was trying to force it's way out of my skull. As if it were a captain abandoning ship in stormy seas. Can't say I would blame it. But the worst was my eyes. Or better yet, when I closed them. I tried a few times to get some sleep, but like a dog in training, I slowly found the futility of the act.

    The images became so clear then, so much more brighter. So many places, so many different eras, so many peoples, shoved down my mind like predators scarfing down their prey. Many were hazy, giving off a feeling more than an image. Others were...

    Others were as clear as if they were my own memories. I could remember thousands of people huddled desperately to an obscene idol before fire erupted from the sky to immolate them all. I saw a great serpent, larger than even the cities themselves, halted before a single man. But worst of all I saw myself. Or at least, he shared my face. His eyes were ice as he gazed at the fires of his own ambitions. The corruption of his arm had spread, almost covering all of his body. Grey fire leaped from his finger tips, searing away warriors until they were not but powdered ash. A staff was gripped in his, in my hands, topped with a dozen skulls hanging from chains. They were too small to be an adults....

    Tears welled up in my eyes stronger now. Was that me? Am I to become that? It seems so real, as if I had stood there my self. I reached for my pants, still somewhat damp, and pulled out the medallion given to me. I clenched it tightly. Every fiber of my being wanted to chunk it at the rock face, shattering it along with my ill feelings. But instead I clench it close to me. I have to know. I have to know why this, why these terrible images, are worth it. What did this accomplish?

    I saw the sun peak over the horizon, and I slowly began to get dressed. My leg wrappings were ruined, mold beginning to appear on it's surface. I threw it aside, merely slipping on my damp sandals. I was thankful my arm wrappings did not share the same fate. I was all dressed before Jaedis awoke. I gave her a smile and we began packing up the campsite. We were back upon the road in less than an hour, we decided against breakfast, deciding instead to try and get a warm meal at the nearest town.

    The town was quickly noticeable, with it's high walls. A result of the shadow campaigns waged by the Ceilians. We entered through the front gates, and were greeted by a town crier with a voice much to high for my liking. I see a small tobacco stand, and can't help but stare. A hand generously offers me coin.

    “You want me to get more? I thought it bothered you."

    “Everyone deserves a little a little vice now and then I suppose.” she smiles.

    I eye her suspiciously before walking off to the stand. A man with yellow, cracked teeth smiled at me, waving his hand around his selection. I smile and look at the diversity of cigars and cigarettes before me. I eventually settle for a rather large, expensive cigar. Smiling, I pay the stand-owner and ask for a light as I clench it in my teeth. The first few breaths are amazing, the smoke traveling down my lungs and filling me with a pleasant tingling. So much better.

    I hear the sounds of yelling, but I ignore them. I was the epitome of contentment at the moment. I wasn't even hungry anymore. Best of all, the images seemed to dull. I was not able to call upon them with clarity anymore. And for that, I smiled. Wonder what some good whiskey would do for me. And then, on a mere whim, I looked at the sky. And saw it, or her might I add, leaping across the rooftops, guardsmen in pursuit.

    “For hell's sake Jaedis.” Once again, feelings of chivalry made their way into my head. By the Old Ones I wish I couldn't care. I remove my sword from it's sheath, but grimaced at the black-rusted blade.

    Thinking quickly I rush to our cart, stationed at the stables. I jump in and reach for an ebony case. I delicately open it, and looked upon the embodiment of elegance. I picked her up, feeling the strength in her wooden frame. I wrapped her fangs around my waist and strapped her to my back. Who says a weapon can't be beautiful? With my crossbow at my back, I rush towards where I saw the pursuit. I hear screams as I get closer, an uneasy nervousness making its way through my stomach. I stopped as I saw a group of yellow-clad guardsmen come across a corner. I hide myself quickly behind some crates before daring a look back towards them.

    The marched in uniform rows. A sergeant of sorts leading the way. I was about to disregard them when I saw the last one pass. An un-moving slender body draped over his shoulder. The silvery hair was all the reassurance I needed. As the last of them passed, I made my way through the sparse street ways. It was still morning, and few people save for shop owners were out and about. Guardhouses in Fariscian tended to be uniform. They always faced the east. I pushed my legs as fast as possible to go around the marching guard patrol to make it to their barracks. A trail of smoke was left in my wake by my cigar.
     
  15. Vamp_fan22

    Vamp_fan22 New Member

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    It was too quiet in this place. I had sent Ellisedd away hours ago because I couldn't cope with everything he told me, I just couldn't handle the pain. Now I was alone on this dirty ground, dying slowly from an infected wound because I messed up on a simple boar hunt and it was all just so wrong. Rolling over until I was face down on the ground tasting the dirt and dust. Then I laughed. First it was just a little chuckle then it progressed into one of those laughs where your so hysterical, laughing so hard it hurts because if you were to stop laughing you'd end up crying. And I wouldn't cry. Not here. Not in a place like this. I could almost see my brother standing in front of me looking down at me in my sad state, a frown on his sweet, youthful face "Your being ridiculous Alexandrus" he says shaking his dark head. "Shut up!" I snapped.
     
  16. FaustusXIII

    FaustusXIII New Member

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    Jaedis Averian

    I'm not sure how much time has passed since Cide left me here. The bleeding slowed to more of an ooze, but my head is still a bit fuzzy. Bring that side of me back... I shudder. I've been keeping that side buried for a long time now, yet it still rears its ugly head on occasion. It almost made me kill Kilas that night.
    So Cide wants to stop the Signing it seems... I can think of many reasons for it, the foremost one being his lust for blood and chaos. The War was heaven on earth for him. I can feel my blood tingling. Part of me enjoyed it as well. But right now I am still in control, and I don't want that world back.

    I hear the door open and light floods in through the doorway. Cide stands there with a young man who looks rather nervous. He gives him a small shove in my direction.

    "Take care of her injuries."

    "Y-you realize I'll have to unbind her."

    "Just do it."

    The man pulls out a small knife, trembling as he reaches out to cut my bonds. Clearly the man is terrified of me. It gives me some small satisfaction to see the fear in his eyes. It was quickly doused though as I felt a surge of pity for him. He knew I could easily kill him if released. Slowly but surely, all of the barbed cord is cut away. I'm forced to lean on him to catch myself as I'm no longer being held up. He lowers me gently and proceeds to clean and dress the gashes covering my body. I bite my lip at the pain, but I can slowly feel my strength returning. Maybe even enough to...

    My eyes dart to my equipment now lying a scant few feet away. Cide is still leaning nonchalantly against the doorpost, seemingly not a care in the world. Once the young man finishes, I shove him aside and dash for my daggers. Sweeping them up, I turn and lunge for Cide. He doesn't move. I can feel my rage taking over, the desire to spill blood undeniable. I feel the beginnings of a smile as my blade makes it to his throat and I slash horizontally.

    A metallic grating is all that is heard, and my eyes widen as the fabric is torn away. He's wearing armor. Armor that protects all the way to the throat. Cide laughs at my surprise, bringing a gauntleted hand up and viciously slamming it into my chest. The power behind it is astonishing and I am sent flying backwards, slamming into the wall and collapsing into a crumpled heap. My daggers fall useless beside me.

    "You may be closer than I thought, Silverwing. I saw that look in your eyes. No hesitation, no mercy, only the desire to kill."

    I try to stand only to fall back against the wall. That had used all the strength I had in me at the moment. I can see deep red begin to stain the fresh bandages as the gashes reopen once more.

    "Of course, your senses are still a bit dulled or you may have noticed something..."

    I hear a sound akin to slithering and realize too late that the cords have been repaired - and they're moving towards me. Unable to react in time, the cords wrap around my legs and arms, seemingly having a life of their own. Snapping taut, they drag me back to the post. I cry out in pain as the barbs drag across my skin, rebinding me and once again preventing movement.

    "You see, he's the one you should have been worried about," Cide gestures to the other man in the room. Gone is the nervous and terrified young man. Instead there stands a dark, hooded figure. His eyes are alight with some inner fire as he gazes coldly at me without emotion. I get a chill looking at those eyes. He is clearly no ordinary man.

    "I think we've made good progress today, don't you? Soon you won't be able to deny it any longer and you will be on our side. And then? We can all get what we want," Cide's smile is crazed as he and the man exit.

    I can feel my breath rasping as I fight to regain my breath. My body can't take much more of this. What's worse, he may be right. I can feel myself slowly starting to slip away as the desire to kill grows stronger with each passing moment. Right now the desire is focused on him, but soon the target won't matter as long as I get to sink my blades into it.

    If I had a deity, now would be the time I'd pray to it. Instead I simply wait in the darkness and hold tight to what remains of who I am and the way I want to remain.
     
  17. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

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    The guard barracks loomed almost benevolently over the small village. Like a father might over a child. Fariscian guardhouses tended to be quite uniform, with alterations kept to a minimal. It wasn't an eloquent building, almost just a square chunk of hardened granite with a door. The walls were almost twice the size of a man, with wooden spikes overhanging to discourage climbing. Two towers stood at adjacent corners. The smaller one loomed over the village, casting a shadow over the marketplace.

    The larger tower faced away from the town. It was different than the other, as it was not built for defense. The tower had no walls, and had several floors, each with a single man looking out over to the east. Even after the war, the memories of Ceilian warfare was still fresh in the minds of the people. I kept myself to the shadow of the tower as I climbed up the side of the small hill. It wasn't difficult, as I was at the top and braced against the walls in a matter of moments. I stood there, waiting patiently for a brilliant idea to hit me as I took another drag on my cigar, blowing out a few smoke rings.

    I had to think. Jaedis is probably somewhere in the main barracks. “Dammit!” I swore. All those times spent touring around the guardhouses with my father and I can't remember anything useful. It was infuriating to say the least. I managed to calm myself after taking another puff of my tobacco and looked at my surroundings. I'm well hidden right about now, the numerous broken crates and carts that lined this wall was effective camouflage. I looked up at the flesh pink sky and sighed. It wasn't even noon yet, let alone nightfall. Jaedis would probably be long dead by then... Think dammit! Thi-

    “Halt! You there!” came a shout to my left. My heart dropped into my stomach, as I heard it. Already knowing by the tone what it was. It took a few moments before I summoned the nerve to look who it was.

    A man in glistening mail stood there. His helm was a leather coif that covered his upper face, save for a diagonal slit for his eyes. His boots had the shine of being regularly well polished and his black gloves looked freshly cleaned. A yellow tabard covered his armored torso, a matching wooden shield with yellow-canvas covering was slung across his back. A rather vicious looking club was held leisurely in his right had, softly thumping on the opposite palm. The grimace he made just completed the whole look. This day just get's better and better.

    “What are you doin' skulking about?” he says with an obviously practiced tone of authority. I mentally swear at my luck. This is the last thing I need.

    I wasn't sure what managed to stutter its way from my lips, but whatever it was, the man now was walking towards me, his arm raised for a strike. I at least hope it was something clever. He brings his weight forward and brings his club down towards me. I raise my arms in a futile attempt to block, but as the club hit me, it passed through. In the split second I noticed the lack of pain, I saw my arm translucent once more, and the club coming towards my face. I fling my self to the side, allowing the metal end to crash on my shoulder. Air escaped my lungs at the impact and I flew to the floor, clutching the impact. I felt around, hoping nothing was broke. Luckily, it felt as if everything was in place. But damn did it hurt. I noticed my cigar had flown out of my mouth, and was lying, and still burning, a few feet from my face.

    The guard looked at me with a confused gape, his eyes drifting towards my arm. I looked at it and saw that it was solid once more. I also managed to notice intricate silver markings covering the gray surface of my arm. Desperate for an idea, I remembered the old man's words and what happened to Jaedis. It was if a spark erupted in my head. I hobbled myself up, almost loosing my balance as a pain shot through my shoulder. By the Old Ones that hurt. I lifted my cursed arm towards the man, putting it squarely in his vision. For a few moments he stared blankly at it, before his eyes lighted up. He began to cough wetly, clutching his stomach. He dropped his heavy club, his crash echoing slightly on the stone ground. He clutches his mouth, bile seeping through his fingers. I see the whites of his eyes through his helmet and he falls to the ground.

    I gasp at the spectacle before me, surprised that actually worked. I walk cautiously up to him, placing my finger tips at his neck. I could feel a slight pulse. A wave of relief floods over me. I take a second to look over at my arm. A wave of revulsion hits me for a second. I hate this arm. All it can do his break things. I shake away my brooding and remember why I was here. Azrahael knows what they're doing to her in there.

    An idea hits me as I look down at the unconscious man before me. I smirk a little and turn around to pick up my fallen cigar. I was thankful it was still lit. Taking a deep breath through it, I began to unbutton my vest, looking around cautiously to avoid any unwanted watchers. A slight chuckle managed to poke it's way through. Father always wanted me to go into the guard.

    The leather pants were comfortable, if not a bit bulky. The armor was lighter than I thought it be, but it did slow me down considerably. I left the man in his loins, sat up against the wall. I made sure he was hidden by the crates and carts and left my old clothes around him. I wasn't going to dress the man.

    Having your father be a Guard-Captain had it's perks. I for one knew the proper stance and posture becoming of a guard. I also knew that a guardsman was allowed to choose whatever weapons were most suited to him. So I had no fear of having my sword slung at my side and my crossbow across my back. I kept the shield, because I was also aware that not having one, while not a rule, would be considered odd. And that was the kind of attention I did not wish to attract.

    I had to spit out my cigar, for smoking laws for on duty guards vary on areas. Which was irritating because my shoulder was killing me. This extra weight did nothing for my bruising either. I walked through the gates, giving a nod to the two guardsmen on duty. I was a few steps in side before they spoke.

    “Did you hear about the little sneak we caught this morning?” one of them bellows in the thick accent of the Fariscian countryside.

    A jolt when up my spine at the position I was in. Fariscian language had extremely diverse accents and dialects between Andant, which speaks Higher Fariscian, and the rest of the country, which speaks Lower or 'True' Fariscian. Foreign diplomats would go as far as to say they were two different languages. And while this wasn't true, the two dialects are very recognizable. Higher Fariscian's phrasings are much more subtle, lacking several words and slang that are commonplace for the countryside. I would have to choose my words very careful. And pray my accent wouldn’t betray me.

    “Sneak?” I managed to finally say. I was trying to say as little as possible. I hoped I managed to mask my accent enough.

    Luckily, the guardsmen didn't seem to notice it. And continued on.

    “The little bitch took at least five of us to bring her down. Tough little pup she was. Not so tough now that shes down in Dark irons, eh?” Both of them laughed as if it were some in-joke.

    Dark irons. That was one of the words I was trying to avoid. It was a common slang for Lower Fariscian, and more of a single word than a phrase in most areas. Basically, the rough translation was: 'chained in the dark.' It was a word that would of raised an eyebrow and a few scoffs if even mentioned in Andant. Such words or phrases were usually considered revolting and brutish when heard by Higher Fariscian standards for language. I suppressed my own little scoff.

    The phrase also meant Jaedis was in the lowest cell of the barracks, most likely immobile and completely blinded. They weren't taking any chances with her. I managed to throw in a false laugh to go along with the two. I hoped it was convincing as I thought.

    “You know they got that Ceilien bastard down there with her? I swear, I don't even think I wanna know.”

    “Filthy people.” his companion chortled. “We should o' just stuck the shala'molonoth when we saw him.” I didn't even want to bother with a proper translation with that one. All I knew that it was a slur for Ceilien assassins during the Shadow Campaigns. Lower Fariscian is so crude.

    “Captain figures it's a good idea to keep 'em around. Who better to know how a stinking backstabber thinks then one o' their own?”The other guard laughed and playfully elbowed his companion. They both laughed with each other long enough for me to slink away.

    This was something to consider. It was honestly a big enough matter to allow Ceilien into the village. But to actually be taught by one their assassins, that was something else entirely. Darker things are at work here. But right now I just had to get Jaedis out of here.

    I made my way quickly to the barracks, walking past numerous sparring groups and training drills. I made sure I walked with the same gait I had seen my father do for years. Back straight, chin out, and just a dash of pride. Not to brag, but I thought I pulled it off quite well.

    There was no doorway for the barracks, just a simple, square opening on the side. Walking through, I found it was a lot more lively than I would of guessed. Men sat on rickety wooden chairs around stone tables. Each was drinking out of heavy mugs, smoking, or laughing hysterically. It was a generally warm atmosphere. Most of what I could pick up was either gossip, or the difficulty in learning the new “Common” language all the nations had agreed to inherit.

    Since it's creation a few months at the war's end, Common had already become very widespread in Andant. It was created by linguists of every nation to be a sort of unifying bond. A good start for a unified world is everyone understanding each other. Besides a few puritans, most had come to use it in everyday talk and even adopting some of the words into Higher Fariscian to make up for the lack of certain terms. I smirked, because I noticed how seamlessly Jaedis and I were able to communicate by how widespread it has become.

    I walked to the end of the rest area of the barracks and found two doorways. One led to a stairway which led up to the sleep area if memory serves. The other was a small closet-like room with a hole in the center and a ladder leading down. The ladder was to prevent any prisoners escaping would not have a quick exit. I was halfway down before I realized that getting Jaedis out just got more difficult. I just hoped I'm as good at thinking on my feet as I think.
    As I reached the ground I first noticed the overall chill that encompassed everything down here. It was a far-cry from the warm laughter a few feet above. Worst of all was the feeling of dread that crept up my spine as I looked around the stone room I found my self in. I pulled my crossbow from my back, gripping the polished oak in my gloved hands. It was a comforting weight in my hands.

    I walked cautiously, trying to peer out into the darkness. I noticed a small doorway which led to a flight of stairs. I slowly walked down them, not sure exactly what I was expecting. I just stumbled through, there was not even a torch to light my way. A thought sprung in my head, and I reached for my left hand glove and removed it. A dim light radiated from the cursed thing, and I was grateful for it. I rolled up my sleeve, removing the metal braces and gauntlets to make my arm completely bare. It wasn't much, but I was at least able to see a few feet from my face.

    The walk was relatively short, for after less than a dozen steps I was standing before an iron gateway. Light shot between the metal bars, emulating from a torch not but a few feet away. Behind the gateway was a simple hallway, with cells lining the walls. I saw two figures standing in front of a particular cell, the only cell I could see that actually had an occupant. That had to be Jaedis. I quickly covered my arm back, unrolling the sleeve and putting the metal brace and gauntlets back on. At this point I took advantage of my stealth to take a look at my two foes.

    The first was a hooded figure hunched over in the shadows, the other was a tall man, in skin-leathers with no visible weapons I could see and the most arrogant smirk I could imagine. That had to be the Ceilien the guards were talking about. Without thinking, I knocked on the locked gateway, almost swearing after I did. I didn't even have a plan.

    They both turned to me with undisguised annoyance. On my first glance I instantly took a disliking to the Ceilien. I don't know what it was, whether it be his smug posture or maybe some latent racism on my part, but there was something I really didn't like about him.

    When he spoke, his accent butchered my language. He was too soft with the consonants.

    “Your Captain told me I would be left alone.” he says with a tone of authority that had yet to ever be questioned.

    “I am...uh...” It has to be something convincing. C'mon think...

    “I'm here to...check up on the prisoner.” I say as if it is almost a question.

    “I told your Captain I have everything in order. And he told me that was fine.” his tone now drifting from authority to anger. I have to hurry this up.

    “Don't go killing the messenger. If you have a problem, take it up with the Captain. I'm only following orders.”

    The Ceilien turned to his compatriot a few moments before giving me a resigned sigh and pointing at the door. The hooded man walked up to me, keys jingling in bony hands. With a creak he opened the door, motioning me inwards. I obliged, noticing the strange glint in the man's eyes, he was looking at me very suspiciously. I walked carefully, crossbow still firmly in my grip. Beads of sweat made their way down my neck, and my heart seemed to beat it's way from my chest. “Stay calm.” I hear myself thinking. “They don't know why you're here. You can do this.”

    My eyes widened as I saw the figure in the cell. Jaedis was tied completely immobile with barbed wire. She lay on the ground, softly moaning as little trickles of blood bled from a few of the wounds inflicted by the barbs. Her silver hair no longer glistened, instead it was marred with the dirt and grime of the cell. Unfortunately, I couldn't see her face because of her hair. I took at least some relief by her still being alive. Dark iron indeed, but this is disgusting. Typical Ceilien bull****. Before I could turn to confront them, the hooded one spoke.

    “Where are you from exactly?” he says in a very musky voice.

    “What do you mean?” I answer. Unsure of where he was going with this.

    “I mean, your accent's a bit funny. In fact I'm almost sure your from Andant.”

    My heart sank into my stomach. Damn! How could I be so careless. I knew the Ceilien wouldn't pick up on my accent, but I shouldn't of been so careless with the other man. Dammit!

    “Why are you really here?”

    I turn to them both with a steely resolve. I was through with this. I point my crossbow at the men.

    “I'm here to get my friend.”

    The both stare at me with a moments confusion, surprised by the sudden turn of events. The Ceilien was first to raise his hands, backing away slowly. That damn smirk never left his face. He takes a glance at the cell. He begins speaking in a language that I couldn't understand to Jaedis. What ever he said, she didn't seem to respond.

    I kept my eyes locked on the man before me. This turned out to be a poor idea, as I realized the hooded man was no longer with him. In the brief moment I turned my head, I saw slithering cords moving with a life their own, shooting towards me. I panic, pushing my arm forward as a pitiful shield. The snake around my left arm before clenching tightly, sinking their barbs through the armor. I squeal out, before everything suddenly stopped.

    It happened in a flash. A feeling, something primal, stirring from my arm. I could feel it as if it were something entirely separate from my being. Which I guess it was technically. Strange thoughts flooded through my mind, and suddenly I was reminded of a wolf who had been backed into a corner, snarling in defiance. A painfully familiar cawing screeched in my ears.

    My arm had erupted into gray flames, searing through barbed cord liked tried wood. They retracted, as if they could feel the intense heat. The fires immolated me, spreading from my arm to ignite the yellow tabard I wore. Though I could see the flames, they did not burn. I could feel a feeling of terror running up my spine, fears of not knowing running their coarse through out me. But they did not damper the fires, they made them stronger, as if it were feeding on them.

    I looked at the hooded man behind me. His eyes glistened with the reflection of the flames. A sudden realization came to his eyes.

    “Scion.” he muttered in a guttural tone.

    My arm raised to him without my call, acting with a life of it's own. A creature to shape from inside my arm, pulling it's form from within the flames. Great wings of simmering gray flames and eyes that betrayed a animistic cunning came into vision. I single word was in my head, and I looked with a confused expression at the creature that came from my arm.

    “Morty?”

    As if on que, the crow shot forward. Wings of flame filling the room with a sudden flashes of light, banishing away every shadowing corner. The crow pounced on the hooded man, claws digging deep into his shoulder. He screams out, calling out words in a guttural tongue. Cords shot out towards the bird, but each of them burned away with increasing intensity. The crow would of killed him, if it didn't look back to me, letting out a piercing caw and flying back to me.

    Confused, I turned around to see the Ceilien, a thin stiletto in his hands and a murderous grin on his face. I point my crossbow and fire in panic, but the shot misses him by inches and flies under his arm. A powerful fear compresses my chest as the knife dives towards me. I draw upon all that fear and point my cursed arm towards him. White light sears my vision and I feel two burning sensations searing within me. I could feel every one of the intricate runes on my shoulder burn their way into my skin, a smell of burning flesh filling my nostrils. The second came from my neck, where I had placed the necklace of the Grand Scion.

    After the flash had dulled, the Ceilien stood before me, covering his eyes but none the worse for wear. A streak of gray flame flies past my shoulder, and claws reach out angrily towards his throat. He ducks away, and it misses him only slightly. Without thinking, I reload my crossbow with bolts strapped to it's surface and take another shot. He leaps, but the bolt imbeds itself in his thigh. No sound of pain escaped his lips, but his face twisted into something of pure fury. He takes a small black orb from a pouch at his belt and hurls it to the ground, enveloping the flaming room in black smoke. I cough, as it entered my lungs swishing away the blackness with my hand. When it cleared he was gone, and turning around I saw the hooded man gone as well.

    I sighed, happy that it was over. I looked around the blazing room and was transfixed slightly by the beautiful gray flames that covered the surface of the walls. I looked back at the crow of fire, who rested itself on my shoulder, before I could determine if he was my beloved companion, he disappeared in a flash and melded once again into my blazing arm. I sighed once more, just deciding not to trouble my thoughts with confusion. I went for the gates of companion and friend and placed my cursed hand on the locking mechanism, burning it away until it was nothing but molten slag. I creaked open the door and looked upon the sole occupant.

    “Jaedis?”
     
  18. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

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    The guard barracks loomed almost benevolently over the small village. Like a father might over a child. Fariscian guardhouses tended to be quite uniform, with alterations kept to a minimal. It wasn't an eloquent building, almost just a square chunk of hardened granite with a door. The walls were almost twice the size of a man, with wooden spikes overhanging to discourage climbing. Two towers stood at adjacent corners. The smaller one loomed over the village, casting a shadow over the marketplace.

    The larger tower faced away from the town. It was different than the other, as it was not built for defense. The tower had no walls, and had several floors, each with a single man looking out over to the east. Even after the war, the memories of Ceilian warfare was still fresh in the minds of the people. I kept myself to the shadow of the tower as I climbed up the side of the small hill. It wasn't difficult, as I was at the top and braced against the walls in a matter of moments. I stood there, waiting patiently for a brilliant idea to hit me as I took another drag on my cigar, blowing out a few smoke rings.

    I had to think. Jaedis is probably somewhere in the main barracks. “Dammit!” I swore. All those times spent touring around the guardhouses with my father and I can't remember anything useful. It was infuriating to say the least. I managed to calm myself after taking another puff of my tobacco and looked at my surroundings. I'm well hidden right about now, the numerous broken crates and carts that lined this wall was effective camouflage. I looked up at the flesh pink sky and sighed. It wasn't even noon yet, let alone nightfall. Jaedis would probably be long dead by then... Think dammit! Thi-

    “Halt! You there!” came a shout to my left. My heart dropped into my stomach, as I heard it. Already knowing by the tone what it was. It took a few moments before I summoned the nerve to look who it was.

    A man in glistening mail stood there. His helm was a leather coif that covered his upper face, save for a diagonal slit for his eyes. His boots had the shine of being regularly well polished and his black gloves looked freshly cleaned. A yellow tabard covered his armored torso, a matching wooden shield with yellow-canvas covering was slung across his back. A rather vicious looking club was held leisurely in his right had, softly thumping on the opposite palm. The grimace he made just completed the whole look. This day just get's better and better.

    “What are you doin' skulking about?” he says with an obviously practiced tone of authority. I mentally swear at my luck. This is the last thing I need.

    I wasn't sure what managed to stutter its way from my lips, but whatever it was, the man now was walking towards me, his arm raised for a strike. I at least hope it was something clever. He brings his weight forward and brings his club down towards me. I raise my arms in a futile attempt to block, but as the club hit me, it passed through. In the split second I noticed the lack of pain, I saw my arm translucent once more, and the club coming towards my face. I fling my self to the side, allowing the metal end to crash on my shoulder. Air escaped my lungs at the impact and I flew to the floor, clutching the impact. I felt around, hoping nothing was broke. Luckily, it felt as if everything was in place. But damn did it hurt. I noticed my cigar had flown out of my mouth, and was lying, and still burning, a few feet from my face.

    The guard looked at me with a confused gape, his eyes drifting towards my arm. I looked at it and saw that it was solid once more. I also managed to notice intricate silver markings covering the gray surface of my arm. Desperate for an idea, I remembered the old man's words and what happened to Jaedis. It was if a spark erupted in my head. I hobbled myself up, almost loosing my balance as a pain shot through my shoulder. By the Old Ones that hurt. I lifted my cursed arm towards the man, putting it squarely in his vision. For a few moments he stared blankly at it, before his eyes lighted up. He began to cough wetly, clutching his stomach. He dropped his heavy club, his crash echoing slightly on the stone ground. He clutches his mouth, bile seeping through his fingers. I see the whites of his eyes through his helmet and he falls to the ground.

    I gasp at the spectacle before me, surprised that actually worked. I walk cautiously up to him, placing my finger tips at his neck. I could feel a slight pulse. A wave of relief floods over me. I take a second to look over at my arm. A wave of revulsion hits me for a second. I hate this arm. All it can do his break things. I shake away my brooding and remember why I was here. Azrahael knows what they're doing to her in there.

    An idea hits me as I look down at the unconscious man before me. I smirk a little and turn around to pick up my fallen cigar. I was thankful it was still lit. Taking a deep breath through it, I began to unbutton my vest, looking around cautiously to avoid any unwanted watchers. A slight chuckle managed to poke it's way through. Father always wanted me to go into the guard.

    The leather pants were comfortable, if not a bit bulky. The armor was lighter than I thought it be, but it did slow me down considerably. I left the man in his loins, sat up against the wall. I made sure he was hidden by the crates and carts and left my old clothes around him. I wasn't going to dress the man.

    Having your father be a Guard-Captain had it's perks. I for one knew the proper stance and posture becoming of a guard. I also knew that a guardsman was allowed to choose whatever weapons were most suited to him. So I had no fear of having my sword slung at my side and my crossbow across my back. I kept the shield, because I was also aware that not having one, while not a rule, would be considered odd. And that was the kind of attention I did not wish to attract.

    I had to spit out my cigar, for smoking laws for on duty guards vary on areas. Which was irritating because my shoulder was killing me. This extra weight did nothing for my bruising either. I walked through the gates, giving a nod to the two guardsmen on duty. I was a few steps in side before they spoke.

    “Did you hear about the little sneak we caught this morning?” one of them bellows in the thick accent of the Fariscian countryside.

    A jolt when up my spine at the position I was in. Fariscian language had extremely diverse accents and dialects between Andant, which speaks Higher Fariscian, and the rest of the country, which speaks Lower or 'True' Fariscian. Foreign diplomats would go as far as to say they were two different languages. And while this wasn't true, the two dialects are very recognizable. Higher Fariscian's phrasings are much more subtle, lacking several words and slang that are commonplace for the countryside. I would have to choose my words very careful. And pray my accent wouldn’t betray me.

    “Sneak?” I managed to finally say. I was trying to say as little as possible. I hoped I managed to mask my accent enough.

    Luckily, the guardsmen didn't seem to notice it. And continued on.

    “The little bitch took at least five of us to bring her down. Tough little pup she was. Not so tough now that shes down in Dark irons, eh?” Both of them laughed as if it were some in-joke.

    Dark irons. That was one of the words I was trying to avoid. It was a common slang for Lower Fariscian, and more of a single word than a phrase in most areas. Basically, the rough translation was: 'chained in the dark.' It was a word that would of raised an eyebrow and a few scoffs if even mentioned in Andant. Such words or phrases were usually considered revolting and brutish when heard by Higher Fariscian standards for language. I suppressed my own little scoff.

    The phrase also meant Jaedis was in the lowest cell of the barracks, most likely immobile and completely blinded. They weren't taking any chances with her. I managed to throw in a false laugh to go along with the two. I hoped it was convincing as I thought.

    “You know they got that Ceilien bastard down there with her? I swear, I don't even think I wanna know.”

    “Filthy people.” his companion chortled. “We should o' just stuck the shala'molonoth when we saw him.” I didn't even want to bother with a proper translation with that one. All I knew that it was a slur for Ceilien assassins during the Shadow Campaigns. Lower Fariscian is so crude.

    “Captain figures it's a good idea to keep 'em around. Who better to know how a stinking backstabber thinks then one o' their own?”The other guard laughed and playfully elbowed his companion. They both laughed with each other long enough for me to slink away.

    This was something to consider. It was honestly a big enough matter to allow Ceilien into the village. But to actually be taught by one their assassins, that was something else entirely. Darker things are at work here. But right now I just had to get Jaedis out of here.

    I made my way quickly to the barracks, walking past numerous sparring groups and training drills. I made sure I walked with the same gait I had seen my father do for years. Back straight, chin out, and just a dash of pride. Not to brag, but I thought I pulled it off quite well.

    There was no doorway for the barracks, just a simple, square opening on the side. Walking through, I found it was a lot more lively than I would of guessed. Men sat on rickety wooden chairs around stone tables. Each was drinking out of heavy mugs, smoking, or laughing hysterically. It was a generally warm atmosphere. Most of what I could pick up was either gossip, or the difficulty in learning the new “Common” language all the nations had agreed to inherit.

    Since it's creation a few months at the war's end, Common had already become very widespread in Andant. It was created by linguists of every nation to be a sort of unifying bond. A good start for a unified world is everyone understanding each other. Besides a few puritans, most had come to use it in everyday talk and even adopting some of the words into Higher Fariscian to make up for the lack of certain terms. I smirked, because I noticed how seamlessly Jaedis and I were able to communicate by how widespread it has become.

    I walked to the end of the rest area of the barracks and found two doorways. One led to a stairway which led up to the sleep area if memory serves. The other was a small closet-like room with a hole in the center and a ladder leading down. The ladder was to prevent any prisoners escaping would not have a quick exit. I was halfway down before I realized that getting Jaedis out just got more difficult. I just hoped I'm as good at thinking on my feet as I think.
    As I reached the ground I first noticed the overall chill that encompassed everything down here. It was a far-cry from the warm laughter a few feet above. Worst of all was the feeling of dread that crept up my spine as I looked around the stone room I found my self in. I pulled my crossbow from my back, gripping the polished oak in my gloved hands. It was a comforting weight in my hands.

    I walked cautiously, trying to peer out into the darkness. I noticed a small doorway which led to a flight of stairs. I slowly walked down them, not sure exactly what I was expecting. I just stumbled through, there was not even a torch to light my way. A thought sprung in my head, and I reached for my left hand glove and removed it. A dim light radiated from the cursed thing, and I was grateful for it. I rolled up my sleeve, removing the metal braces and gauntlets to make my arm completely bare. It wasn't much, but I was at least able to see a few feet from my face.

    The walk was relatively short, for after less than a dozen steps I was standing before an iron gateway. Light shot between the metal bars, emulating from a torch not but a few feet away. Behind the gateway was a simple hallway, with cells lining the walls. I saw two figures standing in front of a particular cell, the only cell I could see that actually had an occupant. That had to be Jaedis. I quickly covered my arm back, unrolling the sleeve and putting the metal brace and gauntlets back on. At this point I took advantage of my stealth to take a look at my two foes.

    The first was a hooded figure hunched over in the shadows, the other was a tall man, in skin-leathers with no visible weapons I could. and the most arrogant smirk I could imagine. That had to be the Ceilien the guards were talking about. Without thinking, I knocked on the locked gateway, almost swearing after I did. I didn't even have a plan.

    They both turned to me with undisguised annoyance. On my first glance I instantly took a disliking to the Ceilien. I don't know what it was, whether it be his smug posture or maybe some latent racism on my part, but there was something I really didn't like about him.

    When he spoke, his accent butchered my language. He was too soft with the consonants.

    “Your Captain told me I would be left alone.” he says with a tone of authority that had yet to ever be questioned.

    “I am...uh...” It has to be something convincing. C'mon think...

    “I'm here to...check up on the prisoner.” I say as if it is almost a question.

    “I told your Captain I have everything in order. And he told me that was fine.” his tone now drifting from authority to anger. I have to hurry this up.

    “Don't go killing the messenger. If you have a problem, take it up with the Captain. I'm only following orders.”

    The Ceilien turned to his compatriot a few moments before giving me a resigned sigh and pointing at the door. The hooded man walked up to me, keys jingling in bony hands. With a creak he opened the door, motioning me inwards. I obliged, noticing the strange glint in the man's eyes, he was looking at me very suspiciously. I walked carefully, crossbow still firmly in my grip. Beads of sweat made their way down my neck, and my heart seemed to beat it's way from my chest. “Stay calm.” I hear myself thinking. “They don't know why you're here. You can do this.”

    My eyes widened as I saw the figure in the cell. Jaedis was tied completely immobile with barbed wire. She lay on the ground, softly moaning as little trickles of blood bled from a few of the wounds inflicted by the barbs. Her silver hair no longer glistened, instead it was marred with the dirt and grime of the cell. Unfortunately, I couldn't see her face because of her hair. I took at least some relief by her still being alive. Dark iron indeed, but this is disgusting. Typical Ceilien bull****. Before I could turn to confront them, the hooded one spoke.

    “Where are you from exactly?” he says in a very musky voice.

    “What do you mean?” I answer. Unsure of where he was going with this.

    “I mean, your accent's a bit funny. In fact I'm almost sure your from Andant.”

    My heart sank into my stomach. Damn! How could I be so careless. I knew the Ceilien wouldn't pick up on my accent, but I shouldn't of been so careless with the other man. Dammit!

    “Why are you really here?”

    I turn to them both with a steely resolve. I was through with this, and pointed my crossbow at the men.

    “I'm here to get my friend.”

    The both stare at me with a moments confusion, surprised by the sudden turn of events. The Ceilien was first to raise his hands, backing away slowly. That damn smirk never left his face. He takes a glance at the cell. He begins speaking in a language that I couldn't understand to Jaedis. What ever he said, she didn't seem to respond.

    I kept my eyes locked on the man before me. This turned out to be a poor idea, as I realized the hooded man was no longer with him. In the brief moment I turned my head, I saw slithering cords moving with a life their own, shooting towards me. I panic, pushing my arm forward as a pitiful shield. The snake around my left arm before clenching tightly, sinking their barbs through the armor. I squeal out, before everything suddenly stopped.

    It happened in a flash. A feeling, something primal, stirring from my arm. I could feel it as if it were something entirely separate from my being. Which I guess it was technically. Strange thoughts flooded through my mind, and suddenly I was reminded of a wolf who had been backed into a corner, snarling in defiance. A painfully familiar cawing screeched in my ears.

    My arm had erupted into gray flames, searing through barbed cord liked dried wood. They retracted, as if they could feel the intense heat. The fires immolated me, spreading from my arm to ignite the yellow tabard I wore. Though I could see the flames searing my armor, they did not burn. I could feel a feeling of terror running up my spine, fears of not knowing running their coarse through out me. But they did not damper the fires, they made them stronger, as if it were feeding on them.

    I looked at the hooded man behind me. His eyes glistened with the reflection of the flames. A sudden realization came to his eyes.

    “Scion.” he muttered in a guttural tone.

    My arm raised to him without my call, acting with a life of it's own. A creature to shape from inside my arm, pulling it's form from within the flames. Great wings of simmering gray flames and eyes that betrayed a animistic cunning came into vision. I single word was in my head, and I looked with a confused expression at the creature that came from my arm.

    “Morty?”

    As if on que, the crow shot forward. Wings of flame filling the room with a sudden flashes of light, banishing away every shadowing corner. The crow pounced on the hooded man, claws digging deep into his shoulder. He screams out, calling out words in a guttural tongue. Cords shot out towards the bird, but each of them burned away with increasing intensity. The crow would of killed him, if it didn't look back to me, letting out a piercing caw and fly back towards me.

    Confused, I turned around to see the Ceilien, a thin stiletto in his hands and a murderous grin on his face. I point my crossbow and fire in panic, but the shot misses him by inches and flies under his arm. A powerful fear compresses my chest as the knife dives towards me. I draw upon all that fear and point it in his direction, my arm acting as the medium. White light sears my vision as I feel two burning sensations searing within me. I could feel every one of the intricate runes on my shoulder burn their way into my skin, a smell of burning flesh filling my nostrils. The second came from my neck, where I had placed the necklace of the Grand Scion.

    After the flash had dulled, the Ceilien stood before me, covering his eyes but none the worse for wear. A streak of gray flame flies past my shoulder, and claws reach out angrily towards his throat. He ducks away, and it misses him only slightly. Without thinking, I reload my crossbow with bolts strapped to it's surface and take another shot. He leaps, but the bolt imbeds itself in his thigh. No sound of pain escaped his lips, but his face twisted into something of pure fury. He takes a small black orb from a pouch at his belt and hurls it to the ground, enveloping the flaming room in black smoke. I cough, as it entered my lungs swishing away the blackness with my hand. When it cleared he was gone, and turning around I saw the hooded man gone as well.

    I sighed, happy that it was over. I looked around the blazing room and was transfixed slightly by the beautiful gray flames that covered the surface of the walls. I looked back at the crow of fire, who rested itself on my shoulder, before I could determine if he was my beloved companion, he disappeared in a flash and melded once again into my blazing arm. I sighed once more, just deciding not to trouble my thoughts with confusion. I went for the gates of my friend and placed my blazing hand on the locking mechanism, burning it away until it was nothing but molten slag. I creaked open the door and looked upon the sole occupant.

    “Jaedis?”
     
  19. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Laslo Windstride

    I let out a yelp, as my movement jerked to a sudden halt. I was lying in midair; the ginger-haired man's hand about my throat, and my hands clinging to his vest. He gave a grunt of surprise as well, and the both of us looked around to find the source of our abrupt stop. We were floating, no, held, in midair. My gaze fell upon Rauo, and I stared, mystified at what I saw. Rauo had sat up, and was gazing intently at the both of us. I stared into her eye. It had changed. There were four lines spiraling through her iris, and the white of her eye had become bloodshot. I noticed then that she was panting. Sweat was appearing on her brow, and finally, she closed her eye.

    I suddenly found myself falling again, and with a splash, connected with the crashing waves. The combined weight of the ginger-haired man and myself made us sink deep into the water. I felt my toe brush against sand. We were close to shore. My lungs needed air, and it seemed the man needed it too, because he released me, and swam toward the surface of the water. I followed more slowly, never having been properly trained to swim. After several tense seconds, my head broke the surface, and I drank in the air, filling my empty lungs. Like an arrow, the ginger-haired man shot toward me, and began grappling once more.

    "Wait, wait. Stop!" I called out, and the man backed away glaring at me. The dried blood had cleared from his head, revealing a dim looking bearded face.

    "You're not takin' Rauo." The man said in a slow voice, still glaring at me.

    With some exasperation, I pointed at the boat, "In case you hadn't noticed, she needs a healer. Or would you rather she die?"

    The man looked mortified at the thought. "I don't want her dead." He said, "Duncan said he wouldn't hurt her."

    "Let me back onto the boat, and I'll show you." I said, feeling stupid. As far as I could see, this was a stalemate, and fighting until we were both dead would in no way fulfill my oath.

    Slowly, the man nodded, spitting water out of his mouth as he was splashed by a wave. Cautiously, I began to swim toward the boat, half expecting the man to turn on me. To my surprise, he offered me a hand back onto the boat, after pulling himself in.

    "Rauo!" The man shouted, as he pulled me onto the boat. She had collapsed onto the deck, an odd black substance dripping from her eye.

    "Rauo?" I asked, as the man hurried to her side.

    She looked at neither of us. I suspected that she wasn't even aware of our presence.

    "What's wrong with her?" The man asked worriedly, wringing his hands through his wet beard.

    "She's strained her back." I guessed, "But as for her eye..." I frowned, and wiped some of the black liquid from her face with my thumb. My eyes widened as my thumb began to turn black, and I wildly shook the drops from it. The blackness stopped its spread at my knuckle.

    "The hell?" The man muttered.

    "How far are we from shore?" I asked distractedly, staring at my thumb. I could still move it, but it now black as tar.

    The man scratched his head, "Those spires Euphel?" He asked.

    I turned to see where he was pointing, and saw a thin line on the horizon with large spires reaching toward the sky.

    "How is the water so shallow if we're still so far?" I asked, and the man shrugged. I hissed in frustration. I had no idea what to do for Rauo, and I still didn't trust this man. I closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath to calm myself, and thought about my oath, hoping for direction.

    "Leave her for now." I found myself saying.

    "Why?" The man objected.

    "She'll only lose more blood if we try to move her. Just make her comfortable."

    The man pulled off his shirt, and layed it under Rauo's head like a pillow. As he worked, I set to work ripping the sleeves from my shirt, and ripping them into strips.

    "What is your name?" I asked the man. I had heard it before, but couldn't remember.

    "Getty..." He muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stared at Rauo.

    "Laslo." I muttered back, lifting the pile of stripped cloth, and placing it beside Rauo. I took one, and began winding it around her head, covering her eyes.

    "She won't be able to see." Getty said slowly.

    I stared at him for a moment, then continued winding the cloth about Rauo's head.

    "If anyone asks, she's blind, understand?"

    "But she's isn't-"

    "I know." I interuppted, "We don't want anyone knowing what she is. They'll probably try to take her."

    "I won't let them!" Getty said angrily, raising his fists.

    "I don't think they'll give you a choice if they do." I said, watching the man with rising guilt, "I'm sorry about your head."

    "My what?" Getty asked.

    "Head." I repeated.

    "What about it?"

    "I-... Never mind." I looked up to see the city of Euphel fast approaching, nestled utop a large cliff overlooking the sea below. I could faintly make out a small harbor, and a spiral staircase leading up to the city above. I didn't know what would happen once we landed, and I felt the sudden need to get a weapon.
     

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