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Next post from me is going to take a while, got called in to work an emergency shift for eight hours. Will work on post afterwards though.
"Don't kid yourself."
The color visibly drained from Khaylan's face as a hauntingly familiar voice split the air between him and Miranda. God, Gods, or Goddesses no..., he turned slowly, the strength and haughtiness seemingly sapped from him by the sheer presence of this new woman. She looked as though she had stepped directly from Khaylan's memories, every detail about her just as he remembered it, not even a strand of her inky black hair out of place.
He spoke a word... her name he thought, but the air itself seemed to curdle in disgust in front of his lips, snatching the word from the air and his mind simultaneously. He knew it made little difference, women like her were really only know by one name, after all.
"It's the witch!"
Both his brother knights stiffened, and hands flew to the pommels of their weapons. The witches eyes never left Khaylan however, those twin pits of abyssal darkness seemingly boring a whole straight through his physical form and driving a spear of cold directly into his soul. Few times in his short life had Khaylan ever truly felt fear, and this witch was responsible for two such times now.
"I'm not interested in the base tunes of ancient history, you trollop," the witch said coolly. "Your noble friend has wronged my honor, and I demand retribution."
~~~
Memories flooded into Khaylan's mind, though if they were his or the witches, he wasn't able to say. All of them shown with an eerie clarity, as though he were witnessing the events as a spirit standing off to the side rather than an active participant. He looked around, realizing that he was no longer standing within the village boundaries but rather, at a location he'd swore he'd never return to, even if the devil himself tried to drag him there. The lighting in the quaint little home was poor, but it only seemed to accentuate the sense of dark foreboding that emanated from the room itself. Around him where shelves full of all manner of strange ingredients, from foreign plants to the preserved bodies of unusual creatures, their shadows dancing in the shifting light from a few small candles carved with a series of symbols that almost hurt to look at. And there, in the middle of the room, was a younger version of himself, clad in the outfit of a blacksmiths apprentice.
You remember.... good, that will make your punishment so much sweeter...
Khaylan did remember. He watched history repeat itself as the younger version of himself called the witches name again and again, as though summoning her from one of the planes of hell. Eventually she appeared, stepping out from one of the back rooms and smiling such a seemingly innocent smile, her white teeth glinting in the light. Khaylan shouted at his younger self, so easily distracted by the hauntingly pretty face that he forgot he was looking at the smile of a cat who had just caught a plump mouse.
Events began to speed up, and Khaylan watched helplessly as his younger self forged the deal that would end up damning him. He had asked for the one thing every peasant wished they could attain in life, noblility. Next to such a prize, her price seemed like a paltry thing indeed. The promise that once he'd become the knight he'd wanted so desperately to be he would agree to marry her so she too could enjoy the benefits of being nobility. Time slowed down to a crawl as the agreement was made, a simplle nod of his younger self's head being all that it took to seal his fate.
Events sped back up again, and Khaylan's memory became fuzzy, he watched the witch prepare some sort of spell, handing him an odd potion to drink. He remembered how the liquid had crawled down his throat ad saturated his entire body with an unnatural heat that made him feel as though he were burning alive. A soft caress of her hand, and the fire was gone, replaced instead by something else.
Khaylan's younger self approached the witch, his eyes glazed over with the same inky blackness that matched her own. He took her in his arms, bearing them both to the floor as he leaned down and kissed her.
~~~
Khaylan collapsed to his knees, gasping for air as the vision faded. He glanced to each side, terrified he hadn't been the only one to see the vision, but if either of the knights had seen, they displayed no signs of it. Both men rushed to his side, hauling him back up onto his feet.
"Never fear my lord, we'll see this hag off," one of them said, and both advanced, drawing their weapons. The witch looked almost bored by their actions, lifting a single slender hand in reply. The air twisted in protest to some unknown force, and both men froze in place as though time had stopped for them.
Khaylan stared at the witch in a mix of hatred and fear, his own sword half-drawn from his scabbard. He wanted to run, though if it was to charge the witch or get away from her, he couldn't say. It was all he could do just to maintain eye contact with her. Still, bravado had a way of showing itself even when courage itself was gone.
"What do you want here woman?," Khaylan said, his hand still on the hilt of his sword, "if you want revenge then come and take it, but don't expect me to die easily. I'll send us both to hell before I let you spread your corruption."
The color visibly drained from Khaylan's face as a hauntingly familiar voice split the air between him and Miranda. God, Gods, or Goddesses no..., he turned slowly, the strength and haughtiness seemingly sapped from him by the sheer presence of this new woman. She looked as though she had stepped directly from Khaylan's memories, every detail about her just as he remembered it, not even a strand of her inky black hair out of place.
He spoke a word... her name he thought, but the air itself seemed to curdle in disgust in front of his lips, snatching the word from the air and his mind simultaneously. He knew it made little difference, women like her were really only know by one name, after all.
"It's the witch!"
Both his brother knights stiffened, and hands flew to the pommels of their weapons. The witches eyes never left Khaylan however, those twin pits of abyssal darkness seemingly boring a whole straight through his physical form and driving a spear of cold directly into his soul. Few times in his short life had Khaylan ever truly felt fear, and this witch was responsible for two such times now.
"I'm not interested in the base tunes of ancient history, you trollop," the witch said coolly. "Your noble friend has wronged my honor, and I demand retribution."
~~~
Memories flooded into Khaylan's mind, though if they were his or the witches, he wasn't able to say. All of them shown with an eerie clarity, as though he were witnessing the events as a spirit standing off to the side rather than an active participant. He looked around, realizing that he was no longer standing within the village boundaries but rather, at a location he'd swore he'd never return to, even if the devil himself tried to drag him there. The lighting in the quaint little home was poor, but it only seemed to accentuate the sense of dark foreboding that emanated from the room itself. Around him where shelves full of all manner of strange ingredients, from foreign plants to the preserved bodies of unusual creatures, their shadows dancing in the shifting light from a few small candles carved with a series of symbols that almost hurt to look at. And there, in the middle of the room, was a younger version of himself, clad in the outfit of a blacksmiths apprentice.
You remember.... good, that will make your punishment so much sweeter...
Khaylan did remember. He watched history repeat itself as the younger version of himself called the witches name again and again, as though summoning her from one of the planes of hell. Eventually she appeared, stepping out from one of the back rooms and smiling such a seemingly innocent smile, her white teeth glinting in the light. Khaylan shouted at his younger self, so easily distracted by the hauntingly pretty face that he forgot he was looking at the smile of a cat who had just caught a plump mouse.
Events began to speed up, and Khaylan watched helplessly as his younger self forged the deal that would end up damning him. He had asked for the one thing every peasant wished they could attain in life, noblility. Next to such a prize, her price seemed like a paltry thing indeed. The promise that once he'd become the knight he'd wanted so desperately to be he would agree to marry her so she too could enjoy the benefits of being nobility. Time slowed down to a crawl as the agreement was made, a simplle nod of his younger self's head being all that it took to seal his fate.
Events sped back up again, and Khaylan's memory became fuzzy, he watched the witch prepare some sort of spell, handing him an odd potion to drink. He remembered how the liquid had crawled down his throat ad saturated his entire body with an unnatural heat that made him feel as though he were burning alive. A soft caress of her hand, and the fire was gone, replaced instead by something else.
Khaylan's younger self approached the witch, his eyes glazed over with the same inky blackness that matched her own. He took her in his arms, bearing them both to the floor as he leaned down and kissed her.
~~~
Khaylan collapsed to his knees, gasping for air as the vision faded. He glanced to each side, terrified he hadn't been the only one to see the vision, but if either of the knights had seen, they displayed no signs of it. Both men rushed to his side, hauling him back up onto his feet.
"Never fear my lord, we'll see this hag off," one of them said, and both advanced, drawing their weapons. The witch looked almost bored by their actions, lifting a single slender hand in reply. The air twisted in protest to some unknown force, and both men froze in place as though time had stopped for them.
Khaylan stared at the witch in a mix of hatred and fear, his own sword half-drawn from his scabbard. He wanted to run, though if it was to charge the witch or get away from her, he couldn't say. It was all he could do just to maintain eye contact with her. Still, bravado had a way of showing itself even when courage itself was gone.
"What do you want here woman?," Khaylan said, his hand still on the hilt of his sword, "if you want revenge then come and take it, but don't expect me to die easily. I'll send us both to hell before I let you spread your corruption."
I think I have an idea, I'l, try to post tonight
Gonna apologize ahead of time, im fighting off a bad cold and so im a little scatterbrained at the moment. EDIT: just read your latest post, awesome dramatic entrance.
Hmmm... all could work, though I like the one where the witch is the reason he's a noble the best. Lends a kind of irony to the situation.
That begs the question in what way did she help him become a noble...
Could combine it with the previous idea, sex for nobility? Marriage?
Which in turn could lead into the upcoming encounter, and his refusal to follow through, so she damns him to die just like the peasants he pretends to be so far above?
Hmmm... all could work, though I like the one where the witch is the reason he's a noble the best. Lends a kind of irony to the situation.
That begs the question in what way did she help him become a noble...
Could combine it with the previous idea, sex for nobility? Marriage?
Which in turn could lead into the upcoming encounter, and his refusal to follow through, so she damns him to die just like the peasants he pretends to be so far above?
A short pos, but I'm just passing the time until we get to the dungeon area. *cue dramatic music*
Not for the first time in his life, Vaerun was dragged out into the street by a heavy and crudely wrought set of manacles that bound his wrists together. This time though, he had the added displeasure of an additional chain linking the manacles to a thick collar that had been secured around his neck that was just a few hand lenghts short, forcing him to either keep his head down or hold his arms up. Evidently the guardsmen believed he was either a major threat, or they just enjoyed the sight of him struggling underneath the weight of so much metal.
"You know gentlemen, the rumors about my massive size and great strength really only apply to one part-"
A gauntleted fist slammed into the side of his face, practically knocking Vaerun to the ground. He coughed and spat blood from his mouth, turning a cold, bloody smile on the man who had hit him.
"Oh this is going to be such a fun adventure, isn't it friend?," Vaerun said, standing back up. "Was it your sister or your wife who told you those stories?"
The man raised his fist again, but a harsh bark from the sergeant stayed his hand. "Don't be an idiot, he's just baiting you into killing him so he won't be tortured to death like the scum he is," the sergeant chided, then turned to beckon over another guardsman, "Thomas, you're on prisoner watch. Damon, go take point and cool off."
As the guards went to their new assignments, Vaerun chuckled, directing his attention at the sergeant. "Damn, and I had him right where I wanted him too. Guess I'll have to start all over again with this guy huh?"
Vaerun turned his head as much as he could to look at the guard beside him. The man was young, perhaps only two decades old, but was clearly used to following orders to the letter. He didnt even give Vaerun a single look as they continued to trudge on through the streets of Providence. As they passed from the slums of the city into the more middle class areas, the change was nothing short of dramatic. Poorly constructed and worse-maintained single story shacks were replaced by tall but narrow houses, many with chimneys that were already belching smoke as lunchtime rolled by. Vaeruns stomach growled, an odd sensation when mixed with the constant flares of pain from his jaw. He made a mental note to avoid being struck by metal clad fists in the future.
"Have you heard the good word about our lord and savior, the great flying invisible sea serpent?"
"You know gentlemen, the rumors about my massive size and great strength really only apply to one part-"
A gauntleted fist slammed into the side of his face, practically knocking Vaerun to the ground. He coughed and spat blood from his mouth, turning a cold, bloody smile on the man who had hit him.
"Oh this is going to be such a fun adventure, isn't it friend?," Vaerun said, standing back up. "Was it your sister or your wife who told you those stories?"
The man raised his fist again, but a harsh bark from the sergeant stayed his hand. "Don't be an idiot, he's just baiting you into killing him so he won't be tortured to death like the scum he is," the sergeant chided, then turned to beckon over another guardsman, "Thomas, you're on prisoner watch. Damon, go take point and cool off."
As the guards went to their new assignments, Vaerun chuckled, directing his attention at the sergeant. "Damn, and I had him right where I wanted him too. Guess I'll have to start all over again with this guy huh?"
Vaerun turned his head as much as he could to look at the guard beside him. The man was young, perhaps only two decades old, but was clearly used to following orders to the letter. He didnt even give Vaerun a single look as they continued to trudge on through the streets of Providence. As they passed from the slums of the city into the more middle class areas, the change was nothing short of dramatic. Poorly constructed and worse-maintained single story shacks were replaced by tall but narrow houses, many with chimneys that were already belching smoke as lunchtime rolled by. Vaeruns stomach growled, an odd sensation when mixed with the constant flares of pain from his jaw. He made a mental note to avoid being struck by metal clad fists in the future.
"Have you heard the good word about our lord and savior, the great flying invisible sea serpent?"
Trying to think of a way to do the witch encounter. Any ideas?
Khaylan chuckled as the song came to a close, though underneath the false mirth, he was beginning to seethe. The twist was an admirable move, defying his intent while obeying his request. Had it come from another noble-born, he might have simply tipped his hat or been amused by the gesture. Coming from a peasant, he found it nothing less than insulting. Especially coming from this particular peasant. Beside him, his brother knights laughed as well, but an icy look from Khaylan silenced both of them.
There would be rumors around the tavern pits tonight about this encounter, and he would be damned before he let himself be outmanuevered by this girl. He matched her smile with one of his own.
"Have we entertained my lord?"
"Indeed you have. A fitting tribute to an old tragedy," Khaylan said, reaching into a pocket on his vest, "it is always a pleasure to know that we are protecting such a treasure as yourself." After counting out a handful of coins, he held them out towards Miranda, waiting for her to approach him as a reminder who was noble and who was peasant. After a moment passed, he wondered if she would slip up enough to refuse his money.
There would be rumors around the tavern pits tonight about this encounter, and he would be damned before he let himself be outmanuevered by this girl. He matched her smile with one of his own.
"Have we entertained my lord?"
"Indeed you have. A fitting tribute to an old tragedy," Khaylan said, reaching into a pocket on his vest, "it is always a pleasure to know that we are protecting such a treasure as yourself." After counting out a handful of coins, he held them out towards Miranda, waiting for her to approach him as a reminder who was noble and who was peasant. After a moment passed, he wondered if she would slip up enough to refuse his money.
Nicely done on the post.
I ask because I'd intended to make my char largely non magical. However that does bring up the awkward situation of getting automatically caught in a firestorm of death or some such.
Hmmm... well my char doesn't have anywhere else to go save the dungeon right now but I think I can cobble something together. After all he's not in the dungeon yet.
Edit-------
Also, plus 1 point to me for first post on second page. *dance of victory*
Hmmm... well my char doesn't have anywhere else to go save the dungeon right now but I think I can cobble something together. After all he's not in the dungeon yet.
Edit-------
Also, plus 1 point to me for first post on second page. *dance of victory*
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