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Post by longstevo on Jun 20, 2006 18:32:16 GMT -5
Sirion closed the door behind Petvan and Elhorn as they stepped into the former's cabin. Sirion made his way to a central table and lit an oil lamp. As the lamp began to catch it's light, nostalgic feelings crept into Sirion's soul as memories of his last dream made their way back into his mind. He stared at the spot on the wall where he pinned Emma against with his strength. But reality caught up with him and he turned his attention to his guests.
"May I offer you something?" Sirion chuckled a bit, "but you two both know I haven't much to offer."
The two shook their head, still wearing their solemn faces. Something was not right. The two youngest rangers were usually the most upbeat. What could have them so down?
"Well...what can I do for you?"
Elhorn, probably the most intelligent member of the rangers, spoke up, "There's been talks amongst our ranks." His low voice seemed to hang in the air between Sirion and him. Sirion asked, "Yes?"
"These talks are not brought up in our gatherings. These words are exchanged in passing. Outside of public awareness...in secret. And the general consensus is the men are not happy with Leokas' leadership." Sirion wrinkled his brow in confusion. "We've come to you as spokesmen for the rangers because you're seen as an effective and trusted second in command." Petvan interrupted.
"Look at him, Sirion! We've a monstrosity running amok in our lands, and that pin-earred bump on a log chooses to sit and bide our time until it attacks again? This thing needs to be hunted down and killed!" Sirion could see where this was going. The men were unhappy with sitting around doing nothing after their comrade was killed. They wanted blood for blood. They wanted vengence.
Holding up his hands and silencing the two, Sirion said, "Now wait, fellas. You don't know what that thing is capable of. I watched him slaughter over thirty men in a matter of minutes. And these were well trained knights! We've more on our hands than I think you know. We can't simply stride up to Ian and stick a sword in him, believe me, I've tried."
Elhorn spoke, "Yes, I know. I've researched his affliction. If he was the original vampire, he's come down with the Demonic Rage," the arcane wise ranger went on to explain the details of the disaese. "And Father Carroll has a venom that will harm the beast!"
Sirion stopped and stared at Elhorn for a minute. "Did you say we've a way to harm him?"
Petvan jumped in, excited that Sirion might be seeing things their way. "Yes! It's some sort of potion that's been created in the most holy of churches, effective against all things evil and undead."
Elhorn nodded in agreement, "Yes. They used it against the famous vampire Ezekiel, which allowed them to bury him in a long forgotten cave. When the concoction is introduced into a body possessed by some evil influence, the holy blessing races through the beast's black veins, searing and burning the evil out. This usually kills the creature."
Sirion's mind was racing. If they've a way to defeat Ian, why were they not doing so? Leokas must have a reason. He decided he'd talk to the commander in the morning.
"Well, that sounds...promising. I will talk to Leokas early tomorrow..." The two young rangers demeanors changed instantly from eager and hopeful to angry and dangerous. Elhorn hissed, "NO! We need to ride now! Forget Leokas and his weak commands! This demon needs to be slain!"
His eyes wide with shock at the young ranger's insubordination and disrespect, Sirion was speechless. The two young rangers turned and filed out the door, but before leaving, Elhorn turned and said to Sirion, "If the elf and his precious lapdog can't lead the rangers to victory, I know somebody else can..."
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Post by longstevo on Jun 22, 2006 0:18:34 GMT -5
Sirion swung open the door to the ranger building the next morning. Leokas stood near the window, peering out into the snowy courtyard outside. He looked troubled. Upon his second in command's entry, the elf glanced towards Sirion and muttered softly, "They're revolting."
Frowning and tilting his head, Sirion inquired, "Excuse me?"
"I've a mutiny on my hands, Sirion. Everyone and I mean everyone, thinks we need to throw caution to the wind and hunt that monster down! Do they not see that I'm trying to save their lives? They wouldn't hold a prayer against Ian!"
A moment of silence ensued before Sirion asked, "I heard that Father Carroll has a serum..."
Leokas cut him off, glaring incredulously, "You stand with them? Have you gone mad? I thought if anyone would understand me, it'd be you!"
"Sir, if this serum indeed works..."
"Who's going to test it? You? This serum hasn't been field tested on anything stronger than a zombie. And I'm sorry, but we're fighting something in an entirely different league than simple undead." Scoffing, the elf returned to staring out the window.
Regaining his composure, Leokas said in an almost dreamlike state, "I've heard mumblings of an overthrow, casting me out as captain." He looked back at Sirion, "Do you know how long I've been captain of the rangers?"
"You founded the North Gate Rangers, sir,"
"Yes...so I did. So many years ago..." Hopeless and sadness were evident in the old veteran's voice. A lonely warrior stood, facing his end. The path before him lay forked, and he was given the decision of how to end his successful tenure as commander. A tear rolled down his face.
"Sir..."
Leokas held up a hand, silencing him. "The men are more ravenous than a starving pack of hounds. They're up in arms over the loss of their brother. They want to avenge Marben. But we're no army. We can't stand against a demon such as that. I've ordered them to stand down. I've commanded them to stand down. I've insulted and belittled them in attempts to get them under control. Instead of accepting command and authority, they revolted. And now...now...they're nothing more than a squad of mercenaries...no obidience..."
The elf took a breath before saying, "The North Gate Pass Rangers..."
Another breath, "...are no more."
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Post by Swords on Jun 22, 2006 4:43:37 GMT -5
Rallos scrounged up another tome, slightly shaking as he brought it to his lap. Once again he began to flip through the pages, licking the tip of his finger every so often. His eyes locked into position when he found the right page, as did his index finger.
"Here we are. It says here that the only way to cure the Demonic Rage is to... to...." he said, trailing off while reading aloud.
"What? What must I do, Rallos?!"
He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, Ian, it just struck me as odd. The only means of curing this vile curse is by... drinking the blood of the one you love most, the person who sets your heart most at ease. Lucky for you, you're part vampire, so drinking blood comes naturally. I'd hate to be the poor living sap that needs to cure this curse."
Ian looked confused, "I... I can't think of anyone that I love, no one I feel at ease around."
"Aye, and that is the sad part. Few vampire can ever feel at ease around the living due to the constant pressure to feed."
"I do not know what to do. Regardless, I thank you for your assistance, I must take my leave..." said Ian, feeling hopelessness wash over him.
"Wait, lad. One more piece of information before you go:" said Rallos, and Ian glanced back at him. "The search for a friend, lover, or companion may not be as difficult as you think it to be. After all, one finds all of those in the strangest of places."
"My thanks," replied Ian. ",though I do not think that will help me in my search."
"Take it as you will, and good luck to you."
Ian nodded, and, with that, he was out of the hermit's cave, and straight into a whole new mess. This one, however, he had little hope of solving.
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Post by Latronis on Jun 23, 2006 0:41:47 GMT -5
Jackie had not been seen around town for a few days, she was keeping to herself and training with the handful of men that arrived that didn't stop her going over the conversation with Sirion in her mind however:
As Captain Asta no doubt explained when we arrived The knights of The Shield come from Esengard It's a harsh northern land and always under attack from the undead of the haunted plains and from evil dragons and daemons from the dragon empire. Despite these hardships a shining bastion of light exists in the capital Essenmoor: The Patron city of Illyana, the blind goddess, Our lady of Justice. Paladins serve as the officers for the knighthoods, with the exception of the dragon riders, My own order the knights of the shield operate in smaller cities and townships as guards but in the capital we are the defence of the nation. I joined the church as atonement for the crime of my birth. I was born a noble so had no trouble becoming a knight, and as a highborn woman i likely would've just married into another highstanding family and advanced my families agendas like so many of my former friends have done. I didn't join to escape that life I hold no great love for the great courts but i would've been content in that life.
Jacqueline Siobhan stopped and sipped her ale before staring into it and continuing.
It all changed when i hit puberty, We humans simply don't naturally develop innate magical powers. The only creatures that do are the dragons and daemons who invade our lands. At first i thought i was special. When i was that age, every 2 months or so my mother and her friends would drink and tell each other stories as they got drunker the stories would invariably turn into tales of there husbands and talk of attractive young nobles or sometimes workers. I used to sneak out and listen to the tales, sometimes repeating them to my friends. One night when she was particularly inebriated she was talking about one time when my father returned hom too visits from holdings outside the capital, he was gone for a longtime and she talked of a man possessed. Later that night i realised that was when i was conceived, everything fell into place and it terrified me.
When my parents were little there was a great witch-hunt, and the knights of the sword were particularly over zealous in wiping out sorceries taint, in this day its no longer a death sentence but emotions still run high, if anyone found out it'd be the end of my family. So i joined the nights, service againest the invading hordes that sired me was my personal atonement to Illyana.
I will take my few remaining knights and leave in the morning, i would just ask you don't tell any of them. I won't risk turning the townsfolk againest the rangers, they need you.
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Post by longstevo on Jun 23, 2006 21:49:54 GMT -5
Sirion stormed out of the headquarters building, furious. His commander was descending into the rank of a despondant coward, and his men were revolting and staging a mutiny! What was going on? Were the rangers really going to fall apart because of one death? Unfortunately, they were. The ranks were strongly divided on what actions should be taken. Leokas on one side, and the rest on the other. The men were standing on the edge of a knife, waiting to see who'd make the first move. It was obvious now, with Elhorn and Petvan's late night visit and Leokas' recent admittance, that the rangers were in for a change of command, at the very least.
Forcing his thoughts away for a moment, he thought again of his conversation with Jacqueline... --- "I will take my few remaining knights and leave in the morning, i would just ask you don't tell any of them. I won't risk turning the townsfolk againest the rangers, they need you," she had said.
The ranger frowned, "Why? You are most welcome here in North Gate," he thought of the section in her story where she'd mentioned the constant fear and loathing of arcane adepts. "You'll find the people here in North Gate are very acceptive," he smiled warmly as if to reassure her.
She smiled weakly, as if she was unsure if the people were really that receptive, or if Sirion was telling a lie just to keep her and her fighting force around. He spoke up when she failed to respond, "I'll assure you, your secret is safe with me, but please, I beg you. You are most useful here, and we're beginning to...like having you around." With that, Sirion gently patted her hand in a friendly way. --- She had smiled uncomfortably and excused herself for the evening. Standing in the snow outside of the offices, Sirion shook his head. Patted her hand? What was he thinking? In reality, he didn't know. He sure hoped that the paladin would remain in town, but he couldn't force her.
Looking up, Sirion saw he had other pressing matters to attend to. Looking towards the tavern, the rangers filed out and began marching towards Leokas' office. Droverson, Panaan and Fruamfros, Elhorn and Petvan all wore executioner's faces as they marched towards the headquarters, with Sirion the only thing standing between them...
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Post by longstevo on Jun 25, 2006 23:16:34 GMT -5
It was only when the rangers got closer to Sirion did he see they were all dressed in their full battle garb. Armor, weapons, and faces of steel. These men were going into battle. When they finally reached Sirion, Panaan spoke to him with a smile.
"My brother. Have you come to join us to fight against infidelity?"
"Excuse me? Are you setting off to chase after Ian? You are all mad!"
Panaan's brow wrinkled. "We will capture Ian and avenge Marben's death for sure. But first, we must take care of despondency within our ranks."
The pieces suddenly came together for Sirion. The rangers were going to kill Leokas! "Wait! What are you doing!" The heavy hand of Droverson fell on Sirion's shoulder, effectivly keeping him in place. "He's our commander and leader! You can't slay him!"
Panaan's face fell sullen, "We trusted him to lead us with courage and protect us when needed. We trusted him to make sure our deaths not go unavenged, and to make sure we died doing something worthwhile. Now, with our comrade in arms fallen, Leokas has decided to keep us bridled inside the city gates, and not give us a chance to justify our brother's death. He has fallen to cowardice, and has made us a mockery of everything that we once stood for."
"This is madness!! You can't...!" Sirion's protest was cut short as Droverson squeezed the back of Sirion's neck.
"Leokas' death is up to him. We'll fully give him the chance to step down as 'leader,' but if he refuses, other means are in order. One thing is for sure, Leokas will be jetisonned from the ranks of the North Gate Rangers."
"NO!!" Sirion lunged for Panaan, but Droverson slammed him down into the snow with ease. Sirion watched helplessly as the rest of the rangers proceeded into the headquarters, one by one.
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Post by longstevo on Jun 28, 2006 19:13:10 GMT -5
The door to the building shut with a deafening thud. Breathing hard, and beginning to feel the claws of fear and despair take him, the ranger struggled to get up from underneath his massive comrade's hands that were holding him down. Droverson spoke softly, trying to coax Sirion into cooperating. "Ssshh. It will be ok. This is a bad necessity, but it will be for the best." A low growl came from Sirion's throat as he tried to shake free with all his strength. Droverson had the ranger pinned face down in the snow pressing the back of both arms into the ground. "Sush, sush, it will be over soon enough, and then we can rebuild..." Droverson spoke as he were talking to a youngster afraid of moving to another home.
Sirion paused to gain his breath. "There, there..." muttered Droverson, and Sirion felt the huge hands relax a bit. Seizing his oppurtunity, the ranger dug down deep, summoning all his strength and rage together in one combined effort, and it all crescendo'd in a bloodcurdling howl of anger.
"RrrrrraaaaaAAAGGGGHH!!!!!!!!" Sirion kicked his back end to his feet, sending Droverson over his shoulders and landing face up in the snow. The huge hands were gone, and Sirion leaped to his feet. In a second, the majestic katana was out of it's sheath and pointed at the fallen Droverson's throat.
Sirion's breath came in ragged gasps, and he struggled to spit out his threatening words, "...I wish...not kill you...brother, but if...you get up...and...follow me...through that door...I swear to the almighty heavens I'll run you through."
Eyes wide with fear at actually having his life decided by a former comrade, Droverson simply nodded his big head in the snow. Only then, did Sirion look around and realize that a sizeable crowd had begun to gather. Locals and commoners looked on pointed and gawked at the two regional heroes now fighting outside. Sirion knew what was going to happen. If he ended up completing what he thought he'd be forced to do, there'd be no place for him here at North Gate. Sighing, he thought, 'No matter. I need to save Leokas.' Looking back down at Droverson he said flatly, "Stay."
With that, Sirion bounded up the steps and kicked in the door to the Ranger's headquarters...
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Post by longstevo on Jun 28, 2006 22:54:21 GMT -5
The sight that met Sirion's eyes didn't shock him, but startled him nonetheless. Leokas stood with his back to the far wall, longsword in hand. Neither fear nor anger painted his face. His expressions seemed...indifferent, as if he no longer cared what his fate may be. But if Leokas' face shown no emotion, the other rangers were completely opposite. Rage, seething anger and craze danced in their eyes. They blamed Marben's death on Leokas, as well as the leader's hesistation with retaliation. The rangers wanted blood. It just so happened they decided to go for their commander's blood.
With the kick that brought the door down, Sirion garned every bit of attention in the room. Leokas frowned in confusion and surprise, while Panaan frowned with hate. "By the hells..." muttered the rangers apparant ringleader.
"Stop this!" shouted Sirion, with his gleaming white katana in his hand.
"You chose your side, mutt!" with the flick of his head, Panaan gestured for Petvan and Elhorn to disarm and nuetralize Sirion. The ranger saw the two younger men move in towards him, blades in hand.
"Please, please, please! Don't do this! This will only end in blood!" pleaded Sirion as he raised his blade defensively.
With coldness that Sirion had only seen in the undead, Panaan said simply, "That's the idea..."
The two youngsters came in fast and hard. Petvan jabbed his shortsword at Sirion's middle, while Elhorn swung his elven blade in from the side. Sirion ducked the swing while at the same time parrying the jab. The misses did not faze the attackers, as they came right back with another strike each. Sirion dodged yet another blow while knocking another away. Patient and well trained, Petvan and Elhorn only regrouped to find another tactic.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sirion realized that Leokas was locked in battle with the two brothers Panaan and Fruamros. For a moment, Sirion thought it strange, that the oldest two rangers were battling the younger members. But those thoughts eluded him as he decided he needed to go on the offensive.
Holding the katana in front of him for a moment, Sirion then feinted to the left. Petvan was on his left, and moved to block, but instead Sirion lunged back and faked to the right this time. Elhorn moved to defend the strike that didn't come. Petvan, while regaining himself, was met face first with Sirion's rock hard fist, as he moved from the false move at Elhorn to punch Petvan right in the face, sending him crashing into a table, unconscious.
Now standing against Elhorn one and one, he saw the young ranger tremble a little, as Sirion was more than an opposing opponent. He held his thin blade in front of him, and Sirion saw it waver. Sirion raised his katana up above him and brought it crashing down hard against Elhorn's small blade. Being the physically weakest member of the rangers, the blade flew from his hands and clattered across the floor. Sirion moved in fast, and grabbed a handful of Elhorn's shirt. Yanked him in close, Sirion brought him to within inches of his face.
"You don't have to do this. Think about what's going on here!" Sirion hissed into Elhorn's face. Elhorn only stared defiantly into the elder ranger's eyes. "I'm not going to kill you," continued Sirion, "But I can't let you kill Leokas either. He's served far too long..." Before Sirion could continue, Elhorn moved quick and produced a small knife from his belt and jabbed it through Sirion's hard leather armor. "AAHH!!" Sirion shouted in pain.
Elhorn jumped to where his sword lay. Picked it up, he shouted something incomprehensible and rushed Sirion. Swinging right, Sirion blocked the attack. Elhorn spun, slashing the other way. Sirion easily block that. Using trickery, Elhorn faked swinging left, but instead brought the sword up from below. It caught Sirion off guard for a second, before he blocked at the last moment.
They fought for nearly a minute and a half before the turning point produced itself. Elhorn jabbed, but over-extended just a little bit, leaving his vulnerable side open. Thinking of his former comrade as an enemy combatant instead of a former friend, Sirion took the oppurtunity and jabbed quick and fast. The elegant katana slipped into Elhorn's side easily, and sank itself nearly to the hilt.
Elhorn did not cry out, only a quick gasp and a parting glance into Sirion's eyes, and boy fell over. Dead.
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Post by Swords on Jun 29, 2006 4:36:46 GMT -5
Ian sat atop a high peak in the Dragonstongue Chain. He was, for a change, calm and quiet, almost in a meditative state. For hours, now, he had been messily reviewing the events of his life to think of someone, anyone who could qualify as 'setting him at ease'. So far, there had been no luck. He shook his head, thinking in this slide show of images would not get him anywhere. He needed to remember specific people or events, though it would be difficult with the nearly 50 years he had spent as a vampire.
He went over the list of people he could easily remember. Neither of his parents could qualify. His mother was dead, for vampire men (who can still plant their seed within a woman) usually cast the mother out after their birthing of a child. His father was always distant, only really warming him up in his years before he was indited as a vampire. Vincent, definitely not. Sirion, would be completely illogical.
Ian sighed, he needed to think farther back. He needed to remember of someone who he might not have met in many years. This would be even more difficult, what with all the women he had 'charmed' through his years. Well, he thought to himself, I can eliminate all those who were only used for pleasure.
Ian, in fact, had been in a few actual relationships, though none ever moved very far. He went over a few names: There was Rianna, Hilda, Arielle, and... and Catherine! He nearly shouted in joy, for if there was anyone who had brought him peace, it was her. Of course , he was not head-over-heels in love with the girl, but she was a unique one.
She was bold, headstrong, as well beautiful. She had been the only one who had refused those... intimate pleasures Ian so adored. She was more a friend than a lover, and that counted for something, for Ian had few friends. He began to wonder: Could she still reside in Samora? Where should I start? How will I go about finding her? No matter, he would think of a plan, he knew it.
With demonic speed, he unfolded his massive wings and headed for the outskirts of Samora...
* * *
The noble Drago family was a respected one. They were good hearted, influential, and filthy rich. Every so often, the patriarch, Oriccian, would take on of his sons on a moonlit stroll in his caravan to talk about politics, the future, and many other things. The father found the small forest of Ilmara breathtaking, and would always ask the driver to make a special stop at this site.
Unfortunately, this was the worst possible night that this father and son could visit the forest. Ian waited patiently, knowing the routine of nearly every person in Samora (the life of a vampire can sometimes be tiresome). Just as expected, the eloquent carriage pulled up near the edge of the forest, Ian standing in the darkness only but a few feet away.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he heard Oriccian say to his un-enthusiastic son.
Ian edged closer, getting ready to make his move in one fell swoop. He sensed that the carriage was about to leave, and sprang into action. Using his demonic strength, he lifted the entire carriage above his head, including the horse. All three men screamed in horror, not knowing what this monstrosity was. Just as quickly as Ian lunged out at the thing, he brought it back into the dark forest.
The cries of death could not be heard, which made Ian's job much easier. No one would know of the Drago father's death, so his identity was safe... for now. The Valleri let the gold looted from the father jingle in his twisted black hands. Sure, he did not like the useless violence he had committed before, but this violence had a purpose: gold.
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Post by Swords on Jun 29, 2006 4:49:24 GMT -5
Antonio took in the fresh night air. The draft from the nearby sea was refreshing, as well as the pine smell of the Ilmara forest. Sure, the life of a commoner was loathsome, but he took solace in his evening walks. As he passed by the forest, he heard a loud rustling, which made him jump. Slowly, he turned his head toward the wall of black that was the edge of the forest.
"W-who... who's there?!" he said, frightened.
His jaw dropped in horror when a demonic black hand seemed to almost grow out of the darkness. A voice just as horrific beckoned him:
"I am looking for information on a certain person in your city, mortal."
The poor man froze in fear, and was about to run, when the large hand unfolded. In the hand lay four medium-sized bags of coin.
"I can offer this as a stipend... bring this person to me, and you will receive more."
"W-who exactly is it that you're looking for?" he asked, the gold enticing him.
"Her name is Catherine... Catherine de Lerradi."
"Oh... aye, I know of her."
"As I have said, bring her back, and receive more." said Ian, dropping the bags of gold into the greedy man's hands.
As the man sped off, he smiled to himself and said. "Ah, mortals, so susceptible to gold, they are..."
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Post by longstevo on Jul 3, 2006 19:04:19 GMT -5
Sirion looked down, not in shock or horror, at the dead Elhorn. He didn't have any remorse, nor sorror for the boy. For some reason, in Sirion's mind, once his fellow ranger drew his dagger against him, he was a sworn enemy, and had to be dealt with as such. He stood there for a moment longer, looking at his former friend, before a cry of pain broke him from his trance.
Breaking his attention away towards the other fight on the side of the room, what he saw made his heart sink. Leokas stood leaned against the wall, with pain contorting his elven face. Sirion looked down his comrade's body and saw Panaan's blade sunk into the elf's chest. Frumaros lay dead nearby, slain by Leokas, and now he was slain by the brother. Panaan's face shown unbridled rage and hatred for his brother's killer, and he used all the force he possessed to jam the blade in deeper to Leokas' chest.
Leokas tried to gasp something out, but Panaan only responded by yanking his longsword out and jamming in back into his chest, ripping open another wound. The life began to flicker in the elf's eyes, before finally exhausting. Leokas' body went limp, and when Panaan pulled his sword away, his captain fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap.
Sirion heard a voice cry out, "NNOOO!!!" The voice was barely human or recognizable. It took him a moment to recognize the animalistic voice as his own. Before he had time to think, he was flying across the room at Panaan.
Panaan looked shocked at the very much alive Sirion rushing to him, and he swung his blade up in defense, sending a splatter of elven blood across the room and onto Sirion. Sirion's katana met Panaan's northern longsword with a deafening clash. It took all of Panaan's stregth not to buckle under the overwhelming smash.
But Sirion wasn't done. He vision began to blur. He saw the flash of light has the katana swung before him again. Panaan began to fade away, as did the rest of the world. His opponent, instead of shades of colors and details, began to transform into a simple dark, shapeless form against curtains of blood red. But the silver flashes remained. From the left to the right; right to left; above to below, those silver flashes kept illuminating the sea of red.
When his vision began to fade, so did his hearing. Growls of two men wrestling with each other, howls of pain and shrieks of rage began to dull into inaudible moans, until the only thing Sirion could hear was the blood pumping through his veins. For what seemed like an eternity, Sirion stayed in that other sightless, soundless world, until his own enviornment slowly began to come back to him.
The wooden color of the table, the white snow outside, the blood red walls; they all remained. The blood red walls? Why did they not disappear? Only when all the details sharpened in his vision did Sirion witness the horror he had done.
DP
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Post by longstevo on Jul 3, 2006 19:35:45 GMT -5
The blood red walls were not in his 'dream sequence,' or whatever happened to him. The blood on the walls was very much real. It was Panaan's. Blood sprayed from the floor to the ceiling, and everywhere in between. When he finally looked to the body of Panaan, horror squeezed it's ugly fingers around Sirion even more.
Panaan lay in no less than five or six different pieces. The torso and head were the only real distinguishable body parts, and they were disconnected. The rest seemed to be a simply blob of human parts.
A shout from behind him brought Sirion to his senses. "What have you done?"
Sirion whirled to see Martin, a local farmer standing in the doorway to the office. "You've killed them!!" Sirion gazed at the carnage that lay before him. Panaan, Frumaros, Leokas, Petvan and Elhorn, all dead. Sirion was the only one standing. He thought back to when he kicked off Droverson with half the town watching. As far as they knew, he rushed into a peaceful meeting with the rangers and killed every single one! They knew nothing of the dissension within the ranks, or of Panaan's plot to assassinate Leokas. All they saw was Sirion standing over the dead bodies of five rangers. Knowing it was useless, Sirion sheathed his sword and put his hands up, "Look. This isn't what it looks like..."
"HE KILLED THEM!!!" Martin shouted and ran out the door. Sirion rushed after him, only to find most of North Gate's population outside, holding pitchforks, axes and swords looking into the blood bathed building inside. Looking down, Sirion saw himself covered in blood. 'This looks bad...' he thought. Suddenly, crazed shouts began coming from the crowd.
"Hang him!" "Murderer!" "Get him, before he gets away!" "Nobody kills our rangers!" "KILL HIM!!"
Ducking back inside and slamming the door as the crowd quickly became a mob, Sirion looked sorrowfully at Leokas, his friend to the end. Kneeling quickly at his friend's side before the first of the townsfolk burst through the door, he said softly, "I'm sorry, my brother. We'll meet again, someday, in another realm."
The wooden door flew off it's hinges and Ivan, a large muscled farmer swung an ax into the room. But Sirion was already gone. He darted into a back storage room that contained a single window. He grabbed a scrap of cloth and wrapped it around his fist before sending his fist through the window, shattering the glass. Ivan appeared in the doorway and quickly lunged for the ranger, but Sirion leaped through the jagged glass in time.
He sprinted for the front gate where a line of knights had been assembled, presumably without Jacqueline's orders. All they had been told was a murderer was trying to escape, and being the good, stand-up knights they were, moved to catch the criminal. Using only a shred of effort, Sirion leaped over the heads of the confused knights. Pushing his endurance to his limit, he ran faster than he'd ever run before toward the tree line, and melted into the forest...
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His world slowly came back from the realm of unconsciousness. Blinking the blur from his eyes, Petvan moved to stand up, but several hands pushed him back down. "He's alive!" "This one still lives!" Suddenly, many different voices cried out in joy, and Petvan in his confusion, only squinted up to the familair faces around him. He looked to the one closest to him. Martin, a local farmhand, a man of about twenty two. He said to the ranger, "What happened here?"
Petvan looked past him for a moment, confused. But when he saw his fallen comrades, it came back to him. He joined Martin's gaze once more and said coldly, "He killed us. He burst in here to slaughter us."
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Post by longstevo on Jul 6, 2006 19:01:27 GMT -5
After nearly four hours of running through the Thornwood Forest, Sirion finally stopped at a stream for a rest. The moonlight shown down through the treetops and illuminated the snow, casting the trees in a glowing white haze. A thin mist seemed to rise from the soft snow, cutting visibility down considerably.
Still bloody and beaten from the fight, Sirion collapsed to his knees and nearly dunked his entire head in the freezing water. The small brook bubbled peacefully as Sirion used his hands to wet his full head of hair. Dunking his head once more, Sirion tossed his hair aside and brought his lips directly to the calm water and drank deeply. The crisp water seemed to cleanse his soul for the moment, casting away the recent memories of the slaughter.
The snow where he kneeled became stained red with blood. Panaan's blood washed off of his clothing and skin, and his own skin, drawn from cuts and scratches of the forest, seeped out to mix with the other ranger's. Sitting back on his knees, he took a deep breath and looked farther on into the forest. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew certain persecution and death awaited him back and North Gate. Shaking his head, he stuffed down his despair and got back to his feet.
Stepping in the water, he crossed the stream and continued through the dark forest...
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Post by Swords on Jul 8, 2006 3:12:27 GMT -5
Ian peered into the soon-to-be-gone darkness of the night, eyes scanning for the greedy man and Catherine. He was able to make out three figures. As the came closer and closer, he could see that it was indeed the man and Catherine, along with a tall bulky man. Tears ran down Catherine's face, as she was gagged and bound. Her nightgown was dirtied, as well, making her very unlike the beautiful woman Ian had known.
"Where are you, 'o beast of the darkness? I bring your woman, now where is my gold?" called Antonio into the forest.
The noble reached out of the tree line, the rest of his body obfuscated. A large bag of gold rested in his hand. Quickly, the man sprang torwards the pouch. Ian drew away his hand before he could grab it.
He growled and said, "First, bring me the woman. Make sure to untie her, as well."
Antonio trembled and nodded. He began to undo the simple knots that squeezed her two hands together, and had the large man remove the gag. Catherine was about to scream, when the bulky one lay a massive hand over her mouth. Antonio pushed the woman tto the tree line and waited for a response.
"Good," said Ian, who once again revealed the large bag of gold. ", now make yourselves scare, and tell no one of what took place on this eve."
The man nodded, and liberated the bag from Ian's hands. As they walked away, the large one gave Antonio a slight smack across the back of the head. He nodded, pulled out 20 gold coins, and handed them to his lackey. They parted soon after.
* * *
Catherine was frozen with shock when she caught a first glimpse of the monstrosity that had taken her. What did this thing want with her, and how did he know of her? These were questions she hoped would never have to be answered.
Ian felt the telltale urge to feed welling up inside of him, along with the pressure to end his evil curse. Blindly, he lashed out and bit down upon the soft flesh of the woman's neck. Unlike the clean process of normal vampire feeding, this was a ravenous, clumsy, and messy attempt at feeding. Blood spilled upon the trees, upon the grass, and upon Ian. Ian did not relent, however, instead savoring every last drop of fluid that rushed out of this newly created orifice.
Ian Valleri let the body fall to the ground with a thud, feeling no remorse. He stood and waited, as if some magic was going to suddenly take place. One minute, five minutes, thirty minutes, an hour. The noble roared in rage. That fool Rallos provided him with false information! He swindled him! He...
...no... it was not the hermit's fault. The vampire hardly even thought when he remembered Catherine. 'Twas only a false hope that he rushed to take advantage of.
Ian looked down at where Catherine's body lay. Only then had he realized the true beast he had become. To slay guards in an rage controlled by something beyond your comprehension, forgivable... to an extent. To knowingly and brutally murder an innocent woman for one's own personal gain, and to continue a life of evil, unforgivable.
It was then that Ian realized that he had truly epitomized the Demonic Rage, even when not under the influence. He had no right to search for the cure, and hardly any right to live. Once again, grief consumed him, and he ran.
He ran far, and left his past life behind.
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Post by longstevo on Jul 9, 2006 13:52:49 GMT -5
It didn't take Sirion long to reach the eastern edge of the Thornwood forest. His body had been well trained and conditioned as a ranger to hold up against such rigors. As he emerged from the thick forest, he was a sight to behold. Numerous cuts, bruises and lacerations adorned his flesh. His leather clothes had been torn to shreds, but his boots were still solid, as well as the hard leather belt and sheath with the sword in it. His long brown hair fell ragged, and dozens of leaves and small twigs had been caught in the locks. A three days growth of beard fell from his cheeks, and his eyes sunk into his skull with exhaustion.
For all his time on the run, he had been running towards the end of the forest with the idea that his destination, whatever that was, lay just outside the tall pine trees, but looking in every direction, his eyes met nothing. There was nothing special to see. Apparently, his journey was not over yet. The Vermilion River flowed south onwards to the NightMarshes in front of him. The shallow muddy river looked to be only fifty feet or so across. A short swim for the well-conditioned ranger. Wearily, he waded into the water.
Sirion barely had to swim as the river was hardly deeper than his neck the whole way. Climbing onto the opposite shore, he shook his head, sending water flying from his hair like a dog. Sighing deeply, he looked to the east. Nothing except rolling hills met his eyes. This was the territory of King Robert.
The King's castle lay in the bustling town of Edinmarsh, and they held good trade relations with North Gate. News from Edinmarsh was the king was a harsh tyrant who had little patience for opposition. Recent stories had supported the rumors that there was a small rebellion in the north of the king's lands, and the king was sending a military force to quell the rebels.
Thinking of other things, Sirion saw a road ran parallel with the river. Figuring that following the road was as good as any other option, the ranger barely stepped on the brush choked road when a band of brigands leaps from the leafy cover.
The bandits held swords of rather poor quality, and looked about as bad as Sirion did himself. Upon seeing the ragged shape the ranger was in, they lowered their defenses slightly, thinking he might be one of them.
In a deep Northern accent, a large man with a thick red beard asked Sirion, "Who be ye? Be you with William, or Robert?"
Sirion frowned. "I hold no allegience to King Robert. I do not call these lands home."
The tension seemed to immediately lift from the rag-tag band of armed men. "Aye! We don't hold allegience to the king, either! But we DO call these lands home."
So, this group was related to the rebellion in the north. The red-beared man spoke again, "Unfortunately, my friend, I'll need to take you to William."
"The reason? I've nothing against any party in this little war of yours. I'm just minding my own business."
"William's orders. Sorry."
Two large hands clamped down on Sirion's while another quickly snunk in and unsheathed his katana, disarming the ranger.
Red Beard smiled and winked, "Please, follow me!"
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