Hellion

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Musings n' Dreams

When you were little
if you fell
they would ask you
where it hurt.

You would point to
your knees, your arm,
or your elbow
and they would
make it better.

But as you got older,
you noticed, if you fall,
they don't ask you
where it hurts.

You sit silently in your room
waiting for someone to ask you
where it hurts as you point
to your head and your heart.

Because that is where the pain
hurts the most

D&D 3.5e - The Marches of the Savage Realm

Speaks in code?...

“Do not disgrace the language of my people.” Vah’lux growled, trying to keep her composure in the presence of a perceived enemy a mere stones throw away. An honorless slaver race with little-to-no remorse for those kept under the watchful eye of their master. She despised their kind, but with good reason. At least, good enough reason of her own.

“Half-blood or not, an Orc is still an Orc.” She turned her head and spat, as though ejecting the very words from her tongue. “The only curses I have are meant for you, poison-blood, and they can be very extensive.”

The woman suddenly closed her eyes for a momentary pause, realizing the rage within would do her no good in a prison such as what she found herself in. The supernatural strength and heightened abilities granted to her kind by the great one, Kavaki, during that time would be only wasted on futile attempts of revenge. No...the Orc will one day meet his end. But not now.

“I hail from the honorable Kathaal tribe of great Goliath hunters, gatherers, and warriors.” She finally breathed out, opening her eyes once again as the anger within her began to subside, allowing for clarity of thought. “And I only conspire with those who would be a friend of the natural order of things. Beast or otherwise.”

The Goliath let slip a slight grin. “However, the unnatural, the honorless, the half-breeds of this forsaken world, for they are the real abominations...”

Veritas Lux Mea

Kai’mos Varthus

---

---

"This is very true." Kai'mos responded to the other in a matter-of-fact tone, holding onto the First Mate's mostly limp body as the meds began to noticeably affect his movement as well as speech pattern. But the numbing would no doubt save Kevej the anguish of compounded pain in the long run, considering the excessive damage incurred earlier on the bridge.

"But you're in good hands, I assure you, sir." The doc's voice managed to stay calm in the most dire of situations, but that is what was needed. Cooler heads prevailed after all, and he wasn't about to lose a crew mate due to fear of death or the unknown. There just wasn't enough time to worry about such things, nor would it help the current struggle. And with that, Kai began moving at about half pace with Kevej's arm slung around his broad shoulders and supporting his weight with a free arm.

"Steady as we go, my friend."

The Ithlo could count on one hand who he may have called a friend over the many years of traveling to foreign planets, and yet Kevej proved to be one of them in the short time they had known one another. Was it any wonder the Captain trusted the First Mate with her ship and life?

While the lighting in the corridor continued to strobe, and smoke from loose wires and blown fuses carried throughout, making visibility lower than normal, the ship thankfully stopped shaking as though whatever was hitting it from the exterior finally ceased. Regardless, Kai continued on, realizing he had about a five to ten minute walk to reach MedBay, something that would normally take less than a minute at a brisk pace.

But, with enough strength left in his exhausted body, the Ithlo made it to the doors, which, unfortunately, were not responding to the motion sensor that would typically open the door. With Kevej still propped, Kai looked around for the small fuse panel near the door, and opened it, quickly feeling around for the manual bypass that would at least get the door open enough for him to force it the rest of the way. Within moments, he found the small handle that had to he cranked several times clockwise, thereby releasing the latching mechanism to the slider as the door opened just a few inches. Kai was then able to slowly push the door open, both slipping through the entry, and made their way toward the surgical table on the far side of the room.

It seemed only partial power was available, which kept most of the lights on, however the surgical and diagnostic machines and tools were non-operational, but Kai remembered a recent installation from the engineer himself.

“Thank you, Mister Staudinger.” He mumbled under his breath, reaching over to the wall console and flipping a reset button that cycled the backup power for the machines, and the surgical equipment sprung alive and immediately went through it’s boot-up phase.

Kai’mos lifted Kevej onto the metal table, taking care not to disrupt any current wounds, and began examining him properly. It helped to have all the tools needed to scan, diagnose, and mend the exterior as well as interior wounds that he had sustained. He made quick work of hooking up an IV drip as well as utilizing stored blood pouches for a transfer back into the First Mate’s body. The doctor applied a salve specifically for burn damage in the affected areas, which should take a few days to fully heal, but also promote new cellular growth for the skin.

As for the broken bones and various other bodily damage, it was the robotic surgical arm that was needed, which, once calibrated to Kevej’s biometric readings, promptly began working on the broken arm, which would need the most work. Kai kept tabs on his patient through a datapad, monitoring his vitals and administering meds and fluids as needed.

“Miss Malkis’ death will not be in vain, Mister Vin'Akali.” He said, injecting yet another dose of painkillers that will guarantee the patient won’t awaken in the middle of surgery. “Sleep well, my friend, and let’s hope you awaken to better news...”

D&D 3.5e - The Marches of the Savage Realm

Gorosk.

Why that name didn’t rise to the forefront of her mind when it was uttered earlier, she did not know, but one thing was for sure, it was of no human, elven, or dwarven ancestry. How could the Goliath have been so numb to that which was so obvious? Perhaps it was the exhaustion that she felt, her mind wasn’t considering names at all. But in a moment of clarity, the last several years of slavery and harsh treatment weighed heavily on her mind, and every muscle in her large, ridgid frame tensed. The growls and taunts of the the creatures who ruled the Thraduum territories echoed in her head. The lashings with gnarled rope and shards of fastened, sharp stones, fresh in her mind.

The name. The language.

Vah’lux lifted both hands up to the bars, curling her thick fingers around the cold iron -knuckles cracking as her grip tightened- and leaned in closer to the cell door until her forehead touched the metal cross piece.

"Thaaval." She growled through clenched teeth in her native language, her tone threatening as the heat in her face slowly rose to the surface of her slate-colored skin. "Thaaval, ah'lek fhorad eh'lakt ooteka." Each syllable clearly carried anger with it, yet her voice did go beyond a normal speaking level. This was for the creature in the cell. Not to alert their captors.

“I thought I smelled the cowardly blood of an Orc…” She growled in the common tongue.

D&D 3.5e - The Marches of the Savage Realm

A talkative lot they had become as each voice echoed off the dark, damp stone walls, each syllable pushing the next one along the stale air, reaching the ears of the Goliath who stood merely a fingers-length from the iron bars of the cell door. The silhouetted prisoners voice was much lower than the other two, but aside from that, nothing more could be derived from her vantage point. It was a matter of relying on sound until the situation changed.

Her lips parted as though to say something, but then hesitated for a moment. While open to sharing her name with the others as they have done so willing, Vah'lux did not know them even in the least bit. How did she know that her whole predicament was not a ruse, in order for the Goliath to lower her guard. To reveal anything that could put her at a disadvantage amongst potential enemies.

However, she smirked to herself, shaking her head side-to-side slightly at the ridiculous paranoia which had invaded her mind since her captivity amongst the Orcs. Their brutality and own brand of "hospitality" had left a scar deep within her soul that caused trust to become a tough sell. But this was not the place. She was no longer plagued by the scourge of Thraduum. Countless miles were between that wretched place and their once gladiatorial champion.

"Vah'lux" She finally said in a low, husky voice common; her native accent interlaced into each syllable breathed.

Enter obligatory "New, but not new" title here..

I'm a (currently) 28-year-old crazy cat person.

@Sins Like Silk

It's like I'm reading my own bio, just two years older.

Anyway, welcome back!

D&D 3.5e - The Marches of the Savage Realm

If you were to ask a Goliath to choose between captivity or death, they would laugh, as their response would be the obvious choice that didn't include enslavement to anyone or anything. They would tell you that Kavaki, The Ram-Lord, did not create their kind in his image as a means of vanity or for aimless pleasure, but to thrive across the known world as hunters, spiritual teachers, artisans, gatherers, and warriors. To compete fiercely. To build upon civilizations that came before them. Build for a better future in order that the race of pseudo-giants would influence and enlighten each other, as well as those who were foreign to their ways.

However, as the world changed, and what was once a thriving race of nomads began to disperse and disappear, captivity -or more importantly, survival- was the viable option.

While Goliaths, by nature, disliked captivity, the five or so years Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal was held within one of the few orc strongholds in Thraduum, had steeled her nerves against such things. The hardship and unspeakable conditions were in no way for the faint of heart, and yet she took a bit of comfort imagining that prisons of the human realms would be much more accommodating in contrast. Their morales were slightly more balanced in certain situations, and their laws, not meant to kill, but to teach. Still, there was always a twinge of uneasiness, especially not knowing what would happen next in a land she knew virtually nothing about.

Physical and mental exhaustion from the endless journey caught up to her, yet upon entering the stone and iron prison cell, the Goliath chose to stand as she watched the nervous armed soldiers quickly exit. Her weapons, armor, and any other belongings taken away and very much out of reach, and left only with the heavy tan-colored cloth underwraps that covered her upper torso, waist, and hands. Even her hide and fur stitched boots were taken on account of the several sharp shards of obsidian fastened along the shin, which could be potentially used as a weapon, leaving her barefoot. Nothing that bothered the large, muscular woman though. In fact, a breath that had been held for awhile was released, as though relieved that she was finally left alone; a slight snicker escaping her lips looking down onto the meager scraps of what was considered sustenance in a bowl. Outside of immense starvation or malnutrition, very rarely would she partake of food she hadn’t hunted, killed, prayed-over, and prepared on her own, or, at the very least had some semblance of trust in those offering the food.

Food for the vermin was more like it.

Staring out past the bars and into the darkness across the hall, she closed her eyes for a few moments, allowing the long day to slowly evaporate from her mind and soul. This had been the drill for years in captivity, breathing exercises taught to her as a youngling, to prepare for any situation as well as decompress from the most challenging. The rage within, that stored energy into which her kind would pull from in times of need, while ever present, wasn't needed. Not now. Not in this place. But as she quieted the noise inside her mind, thoughts of weeks earlier began to surface.

---

The journey just to make it out of Thraduum was perilous at best, and many who managed to escape from the Orc stronghold miles behind them, met the unfortunate fate of dying from the harsh conditions that the land had to offer any traveller. Water, for one, was scarce, and predators lay in wait as several former captives fell, never to rise again to see another day. Those who could hunt, fared as well as could be expected, just on the fringe of starvation or dehydration, and while plenty were willing to share, squabbles amongst all races present were inevitable as each had a reason to survive. Each wanted to return to their place of origin.

As the days passed, and the groups dwindled in numbers, Vah’lux and the ebony dire wolf decided to head their own way, to tread the roads least taken in order to evade any last vestiges of bounty hunters on their trail. The Goliath had the knowledge to live off the land, just as her father, and his father, and many generations before her had done. In was ingrained in her mind. Survival and trust amongst each other was their only hope. The dire wolf was exceptional at aiding in the hunting process, and kept watch during the night when rest was needed. Fortunately, only a handful of situations required combat, be it a small goblin raiding party, or a caravan of pirates out to collect anything they could for their own. No mercy was shown to these braggards, as no mercy would have been shown to Vah’lux and her companion.

It was shortly after that when the Goliath’s journey would come to an abrupt end, and her new fate would await her in the darkest of places...

---

The voice echoed from a ways down the hall, breaking the silence, and snapping her from the meditative state she was in previously. She knew there were others imprisoned as well from the occasional shuffling of feet, a cough, or some other easily audible indication, but to what species of creature -whether man or beast- was unknown to her. However the single voice, still seemed more human than not, it's natural dialect clearly Common. Vah'lux did not respond though, unsure if she was even being addressed directly, but more so, she was simply not in a conversational mood.

Vah'lux narrowed her eyes to scan across the hallway into the other cells, hoping to make out who may be speaking.

Spot Check

Rolled an 11

'Sup. Not new to roleplaying on forums, but I am new here.

Welcome to Guild!

Musings n' Dreams

I never truly realized
what it meant to hurt
until I wanted you
to such a great extent,
only to have no other choice
but to convince myself
that I didn't.