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| Oblation; Part 1: Scorwitch | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 6 2012, 12:03 AM (476 Views) | |
| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 10 2012, 07:10 PM Post #16 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal stared back at the girl, he smiled at her, and the babe. The he simply let out a small sigh, he started to walk after grabbing the his spade, and his Arca. He began to walk toward the town, He held them close and protected them from the wind. It was cold and he would not let it bite at the children any longer. While walking, he kept an eye on the two, and on the knife. He spoke to them as they walked. What is your name child? He asked her hoping she would speak to him now. He continued to march toward the town. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 11 2012, 03:32 AM Post #17 |
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The girl was still staring up to him, she hadn't blinked the entire time that he had seen her, which was slowly becoming more and more frightening to him. However, her eyes had lost their glazed look and now seemed to be pools of shimmering silver, her hair was a strange blood-red in the dark where as in the soft light of the Witchknife, it glowed orange. The babe was fast asleep still. Both children were pale, and were extremely light in Darieal's arms. Chances were that they were extremely malnourished, but who knew. The could be sick too, for all he knew, but the girl didn't seem to want to talk. However, after turning over the question of her name for a short while in her head, the girl opened her mouth and whispered ever-so-softly in a strange language, her voice quivering. It seemed to be the same language that Darieal had heard the witches speak when they were tied to their funeral pyres. Then, the girl was silent, and then she spoke in the Common Tongue: "My name is Edon." Darieal had been walking and talking, but when he looked up, it didn't seem that he had happened anywhere near the village. The fog had entirely encased them, and only a couple of feet in each direction were visible. Skeletal black trees reached toward the sky all around them, but vanished in the mists. The wind was still churning strongly, buffeting them, and it sounded and smelled as if rain was soon to come. However, the ground had become slightly rockier under foot, there was a chance of finding a temporary place to stay, at least until the fog subsided. |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 11 2012, 08:19 PM Post #18 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal listend to her as she spoke. He wondered why she was out here, and just how confusing everything had become. Once she spoke, he smiled at her. It is good to meet you Edon, I am Darieal Letholdus. Have you been lost long? He asked her as he continued to look around for the village. This fog was cursing them and he was lost. He was not happy about the situation, but he did not mention it to Edon, he did not want to worry the child. He continued to walk about, looking for any sort of shelter he could find, he also looked for any sort of resemblance toward the path back to the village. He made sure to hold the children close. He did not want them to get cold. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 13 2012, 02:10 AM Post #19 |
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The little girl was silent, again, when he spoke to her. Her gray eyes were always on his, never breaking eye contact even for an instant. It was slightly unnerving. He could still feel a strange thrum coming from the Witchknife within the trappings of the girl and the babe, and he could see its soft glow. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing, though. It had grown dark in the Witchwood due to the trees and the twilight hours and the fog, so a little bit of light was actually more of a godsend than a hindrance. However, Darieal could not shake the feeling that the Witchknife gave him. He felt like he could be ill at any moment, that he had the chills, that there were whispers on the wind and strange figures within the mist. He felt as if, at any moment, the ground would open up and swallow him and the two children whole. His feet were shaky now, as they were firmly on jagged rock and no longer on the damp, muddy ground of the Witchwood. As he continued, searching for temporary cover or a path back to the village of Scorwitch, a small drab rain began to fall from above, making strange noises as it collided with the skeletal branches on its way down. He found a small path and followed it, though it was much harder done than said with the thick ghostly fog all around. Then, the yawning maw that was the entrance to a cave. The small path led right up to the stony opening, which was quite wide and ridiculously dark. |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 14 2012, 08:24 PM Post #20 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal continued to walk, looking around at the fog, trying to find his way home. Also, trying to ignore the blade. He did the best he could and continued to walk along the dark woods. His mind was drifting about, thinking of ways to get back. Though he continued to let his eyes drift down at the children, and more importantly, the blade. He walked up and looked at the cave. He let out a sigh, he began to head toward the cave, hoping to see better inside of it. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 15 2012, 06:22 PM Post #21 |
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The thick fog swirled around the entrance to the cave, but was not actually inside it. Despite his fairly good night vision, which had come as a help thus far, Darieal could not see too far into the opening. There was no telling how deep or shallow it was, if there was a sleeping animal in it or a stalking creature lying in wait, if there was a dead body in the darkness or a small coven of witches that were waiting to spring out and seek revenge for their fallen sisters. However, just when Darieal began to feel doubt rise in his chest like a bubbling cauldron of hot acid, Edon shifted within his arms. When he looked down, he noticed that the girl was looking into the cave, wide-eyed, as she had been staring at him the whole time. There were a few moments of silence as a soft rain began to fall and a crow cawed far in the distance of the Witchwood. "It's empty and dry. We can rest and build a fire here." Edon was exceptionally calm and squirmed to get out of Darieal's arms. When he set her down, she took the child and stood as she had some time ago when they had first me. She walked into the darkness of the cave bravely, the soft glow of the Witchknife making her a beacon against the dark. She turned back. "Gather some firewood." |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 16 2012, 04:35 PM Post #22 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal watched the girl as she moved forward into the cave. He was happy to hear her talking. So you think to order me around now humm? Hahahaha, I shall fetch the fire wood... do be careful when I am gone, Witchblade or not... it could be dangerous here. Darieal smiled to himself, though it quickly faded when he looked about the whole situation. He shook his head, and then turned around and started to head toward some trees, he glanced back to make sure the girl and babe were safe. Then he moved quickly with purpose. His mind thinking over the strange situation, trying to better understand what was going on, he couldn't help but think of the similarities between the girl and the recently decided witch... he also found it very strange how silent this girl was. She seemed wise though, maybe beyond her years... this didnt bring him any comfort. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 17 2012, 06:27 PM Post #23 |
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When Darieal spoke, Edon did not reply. When he glanced back, he could barely make out the faint light of the Witchknife in the aperture of the cave, but it was steady as ever, and that was a sign that nothing had gone awry... yet, at least. Darieal moved deftly, slinking through the nearby trees in the thick fog and searching the ground for dry wood, which, despite the light drizzle, was ample enough. As always, the wood looked like it had been burned centuries ago, but the people of Scorwitch still the wood for fires anyway. It did not burn as hot as regular wood, but it burned longer. Some say it was an age-old spell that the witches had placed on their home, so that they could conserve the trees in the names of their strange gods. Others said it was simply a byproduct of whatever had burned the trees in the first place. The truth was relatively unknown. As Darieal thought about the girl more and more, and how she seemed eerily reminiscent of the head witch who had recently been burned at the stake, he began to hear strange whispers in the mist. Footsteps could be heard in the woods, though animal or person, he could not tell. Then, he though he saw a figure, blurred by the fog surrounding him. Then another. And another. Soon, they were all around. Darieal could see the entryway to the cave from where he stood, and the light glow of the Witchknife. Perhaps he could make it. |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 17 2012, 06:47 PM Post #24 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal continued to work and think about the strange events that had happend only moments ago. He shook his head, though this place was new and strange to him, he was no stranger to the strange things of this world, the odd pains that it held, and of course the hope. He thought about the girl, wondering if the girl was kin, then a strange thought crossed his mind. One built out of strange suspicions and fear. What if they were one in the same?! What if the chanting that the witches spoke was some strange spell!? As he looked up trying to ground himself in logic, he saw the figures. With one smooth motion he drew his sword. He glanced around him and saw the figures in the fog. He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He almost charged them, ready for a fight, then his heart reminded him of the children. He looked back toward the cave. He ran, dropping the wood he had gathered to lighten his load. Sword clutched in hand, he dashed forward, moving with a zeal to protect the children. The High Pantheon be damned if he were to allow them to come to harm. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 20 2012, 08:30 PM Post #25 |
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As Darieal charged back to the cave, strange noises could be heard from behind him. When he turned back, the figures were multitudinous, a sea of strange blank human shapes guarded by the thick swirling fog of the Witchwood. Whispers assaulted his ears from every angle. Two more feet and he would be within the cave. His foot was wrapped by a thin stream of fog, but it was not just fog. It jerked like a translucent tentacle, his foot flying backward and his body pitching forward, reeling through the air, his sword flying from his hands. His helmet leapt from his head when he contacted the dirty forest floor, rolling onto the stone that signified the entry to the cave. The whispers were growing louder and he was being dragged backward. He heard a scream. Edon was slashing at the strange things as they poured into the cave, her glowing Witchknife cutting strange dark steaks through the figures. The little girl's rough clothing dropped and she was a pale, naked whirl of of light and dark, slicing through the creatures all the while tucking the babe closer to her. She was screaming, and Darieal was dazed but reaching for his sword. Another sharp tug on his leg pulled him back and the mist obscured his vision. He heard her screaming. He saw a face, or where a face should have been on one of the human shapes as it closed into toward his own. Then... only darkness. It was morning and Darieal was on his back looking upward. His arms were crossed over his chest, his hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade that was angled downward. The fog was gone and the skeletal trees rustled in the wind that whistled through their bony grasp. It was clear and overcast, and there was crying. Her turned and there was Edon, her hands bloody and the Witchknife glowing softly on the floor of the cave. She had wrapped herself up again, but near the Witchknife was a pile of grayish rags that the babe had once been wrapped in. Great sobs were leaping free of her throat, and tears were running down her reddened face. She looked at Darieal: "They took him- They took him back." |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 21 2012, 05:05 PM Post #26 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal took a few seconds to figure out where he was, the world was whirling right now. He looked around at the sky, and felt his own body. Once satisfied that he was here, he then listened to the crying. He looked up and saw Edon, he stood up and sheathed his blade, and made his way over to her. He was in shock for a few seconds as the words hit him. Your hands, are you alright? Who was they? Witches? What was that thing that came from the fog? Pantheon help us. He spoke quickly and continued to look around, as if the creature was just waiting to strike again. He wasnt sure how he was alive. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 22 2012, 12:27 AM Post #27 |
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Edon was sobbing. Then, as if she remembered how she had been acting thus far, the sobbing abruptly ceased. She looked up and wiped the tears from her eyes, her pale face still red. Her gray eyes soon took on their casual coldness and she stood. She was not bleeding anymore, she had scrapes on her hands but that was all. She picked up the Witchknife and looked at Darieal coolly. "I'm fine. Mistmen, they plague the Witchwood when the fog of the false god Imer invades it. If you weren't a Templar, you would probably be dead. They took the baby." For a moment, Edon snapped back into a look of despair, but it quickly subsided. "The child is gone. Wherever the Mistmen took it, it is far from here, perhaps not even on this same plane. I think it best if we go to the nearest town, Scorwitch." Edon grimaced at the name of the village, as if it were a bitter taste within her mouth. Then she looked at Darieal expectantly. The woods were clear now, no fog to be seen. Outside of the cave, there was a thin dirt path that was not very worn, but still visible. It seemed to be heading in the direction that Darieal could best guess was that of Scorwitch. |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 22 2012, 12:48 AM Post #28 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal listend to Edon. False god? Be careful of what you say child, there are those that would strike you for such talk. Darieal looked down at his boots for a second, knowing he would also be in trouble for not scolding her. He let the moment pass and continued to watch her as she spoke. So there is nothing that could be done to these Fogmen?! I cant stand the thought of them keeping the child. Was he your brother? and if we are going to head back to Scourwitch, your going to need to leave that... blade, behind. I would also fall into trouble if I were to let you keep that... thing. He stood there and looked at her, then went and grabbed his helm, placing it back on. He then crossed his arms and looked down at the child. Waiting for her to drop the blade. |
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| Volksgeist | Feb 22 2012, 01:10 AM Post #29 |
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"Your gods are young, Templar. My gods are the eldest gods, gods that have been seen in times far past, seen and worshiped and sacrificed to. Perhaps yours are not false, but that does not save them from being folly." For a child, Edon's wits and tongue were sharp as the blade she carried. "There is nothing that can be done. The Mistmen have taken many a person, witch, commoner, and others; none of them have returned from where they go save for one, and he is long dead. The child was not my brother, nor of my kin at all. The babe was one of my kind, left orphaned after the atrocity you committed yestereve. You slew three witches, two of them were twins and as mothers to the poor babe. The other was my mother. Do not think you have saved me. I had nowhere else to go." Edon was silent for a moment, her grey eyes shifting endlessly and impassively over Darieal's form. She never seemed to blink. "As for the blade, it is mine and it shall remain mine. You and the others out there know nothing of our customs, or rituals, and our tools. The blade is sacred and older than time itself. I do not care if you are scolded by your superiors, but the blade will remain in my possession." Edon stood, undaunted by the looming giant that Darieal was. |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Feb 23 2012, 04:56 PM Post #30 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Darieal looked down at the little girl and couldn't help but laugh to himself, seeing her stand so boldly. He shook his head at her. You best mind your tongue Edon, others would have no problem beating you for your words, and I dont just mean my fellow templars. So be mindful of yourself. As far as your belief goes in these "old gods" I cant be mad at you for being lost... As far as the twins and your mother goes.... Darieal paused, he was trained to be cold in these situations, but he couldn't help but pause to look away. He then cleared his throat. I did what was needed to be done. Killing children is not something I can stand by and allow to happen, you must clearly see that, after all other people you might have run across would not have even bothered with you once they saw your blade... or the babe for that matter... as sad as it may be, food is scarce. He paused for a few seconds to look down and around at the area, his mind thinking of the mist men. He then got angry, his face shifted slightly, then his stern gaze settled back down at Edon I do not think you saved. You obviously have no interest in dealing with me or my kind. What little I know of your people, you know little of my own. I will be heading back to ScorWitch, and I would like you to come with me to at least avoid the cold. Though I wont pester you... after that. He stared at the girl with a irritated and angry face, then looking out into the woods, as if waiting for the mist men to return. He figured it was best his helm was on, she would probably mock his face as well as she did his faith. He shook his head and started to move forward. He paused then for a second and looked back at Edon. How do you know thing can be done for the child? Have you no hope? He couldn't help but say that with bitterness, he was mad he had failed the poor child, and he was never the one to give up on something. He never worried about odds, his faith was strong, and were there is a will, there is a way. |
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12:14 AM Jul 11