Maara wasn’t sure how long they had been traveling. She had tried to tell the time with the sun like she usually would have done but the forests canopy was so thick she couldn’t see were is was in the sky. If she had to guess it would have to be an hour or may be even two. It felt much longer, but that was probably because no one had said a word since they left the clearing towards Marn. Silence made everything seem longer then it actually was.
She felt nervous around them, which was probably why she had been walking behind both of them. Maara didn’t want her back to them yet especially with her wing still broken. If they had tried to attack her… well, there was a strong possibility that she would lose. And yet, despite her nervousness about this situation, there was this strange calm about it as well. Maybe it was because of the fact that they weren’t trying anything that made it that way. It was as if they we off in their own little worlds and that she didn’t really matter. She was no threat them even if she had tried to be one.
Maara found it strange that the weaker you were the more people trusted you and the more power you receive the more fear you gain. If you were powerful then you were a threat and could easily destroy someone’s life, and therefore hated. If you were weak you couldn’t do much of anything to anyone and therefore were nothing.
It felt good to be weak if that was the case. Maara knew for a fact that she wouldn’t get much trust because of what she was so to have someone that trusts you for a little while felt absolutely wonderful. She looked again at the backs of her companions. Drake was still in front leading them and Anton was in-between him and herself. They must really think that she was weak if they would really showed their backs to her. That thought made her smile.
The silence was starting to bug her again. Maara started to wonder if she should break it and with what or how? If she asks more about them the question could easily be turned back on her and she didn’t think she could lie or leave out information like she did before without them getting uneasy around her or them asking more questions in hope for her to elaborate. But she couldn’t think of anything else to ask or talk about.
‘No that won’t do,’ Maara thought to herself and sighed softly. ‘It seems I must suffer though silence then.’
Sympathy for the Devil
Sympathy for the Devil
"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
Samuel Beckett
Samuel Beckett
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
The silver haired half-elf stumbled through a particularly dense patch of underbrush. The trip had been slow going so far due to the thickness of the forest, and a silent one at that. For everyone but Drake that is, his other half had been complaining in his mind's ear the entire time.
"Is it really necessary to keep dragging on like this? Leave them behind and you could make much better time." The voice whispered to him. "I'm sure there's something more interesting going on in the city, and if not....well, we could find something to do." Drake just ignored it, which it took as a signal that he was open to being convinced.
"Why are you helping them anyway? I know the girl is hiding something. It's painted on her face clear as day." He turned to look back at Maara. She looked no more the part of a deceiving lier than anyone he could think of. "I'm telling you, there's something wrong with her." He just shook his head, becoming annoyed.
"And what about Lyssak? He's just plain strange." Drake couldn't argue with that. The man was odd, and sat him slightly on edge. "See? You agreed with me! HA!"
"Either of you ever been to the city?" Drake asked aloud to his two companions in an attempt to drown out the annoying voice in his head. A little conversation wouldn't hush the other, but it would certainly get the point across that he was tired of hearing its complaints.
"Is it really necessary to keep dragging on like this? Leave them behind and you could make much better time." The voice whispered to him. "I'm sure there's something more interesting going on in the city, and if not....well, we could find something to do." Drake just ignored it, which it took as a signal that he was open to being convinced.
"Why are you helping them anyway? I know the girl is hiding something. It's painted on her face clear as day." He turned to look back at Maara. She looked no more the part of a deceiving lier than anyone he could think of. "I'm telling you, there's something wrong with her." He just shook his head, becoming annoyed.
"And what about Lyssak? He's just plain strange." Drake couldn't argue with that. The man was odd, and sat him slightly on edge. "See? You agreed with me! HA!"
"Either of you ever been to the city?" Drake asked aloud to his two companions in an attempt to drown out the annoying voice in his head. A little conversation wouldn't hush the other, but it would certainly get the point across that he was tired of hearing its complaints.
“Where there is much light, the shadow is deep”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"You know, it wouldn't hurt to think like a serial killer once in a while." -Foamy The Squirrel of Neurotically Yours
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"You know, it wouldn't hurt to think like a serial killer once in a while." -Foamy The Squirrel of Neurotically Yours
-
Anton Lyssak
- Outsider
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Wed Mar 12, 2008 8:45 pm
- Name: Anton
- Race: Human
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Every few moments there was a cracking noise and so every few moments Lyssak grimaced, apparently the ability to fly made people blunder about when they tried to walk. Admittedly they weren't travelling the clearest path but that was hardly a reason to barge through every single obstacle. Lyssak on the other moved with a practiced grace and ease which to anyone observing looked terribly... odd.
Anton Lyssak, with his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes locked on his own feet, avoided most of the brambles and thick undergrowth with very deliberate and measured steps. This was slightly odd in itself but it certainly wasn't helped by the fact that every so often he would hop or skip around an obstacle that. No, he wasn't moving particularly quickly but neither Maara nor Drake. It certainly wasn't the fastest way to walk but since he wasn't having any trouble keeping up with Drake he decided to continue with his somewhat overly elaborate gait in the hope of keeping his clothes somewhat serviceable.
As a result of this Lyssak's concentration was almost entirely devoted to navigating and the only real thoughts he had as he stared the forest floor was that he was rather fond of his shoes.
"Either of you ever been to the city?"
"Hmmm?" said Lyssak distractedly as he finally looked up "Oh, Marn? Well no, never been to Marn before. I was in a place called Sharm once though, miserable little place, the kind of place which is only a village by virtue of the fact it has tavern and a crossroad. Marn is probably different to Sharm, more people and less hay at least."
Lyssak sniffed after saying this, half to determine if Marn smelled anything like Sharm and half because walking though ancient forests tended to clog him up ever so slightly. The latter part of this exercise was immensely successful but the former was somewhat overshadowed by other factors.
"I know this isn't related but you do know we're headed towards something horrible right?" said Lyssak conversationally "It's just earlier you mentioned that you could sense things and you certainly have the ears for it but well... it really is going to be quite horrible."
Lyssak shrugged, honestly he didn't mind horror that much he just that most other people did. If they kept going in this direction there'd probably be scene and screaming and then Lyssak would have to look concerned and they'd never get to the city. Anton suppressed a sigh and looked back down, it was going to be a long day...
But at least he still had nice shoes.
Anton Lyssak, with his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes locked on his own feet, avoided most of the brambles and thick undergrowth with very deliberate and measured steps. This was slightly odd in itself but it certainly wasn't helped by the fact that every so often he would hop or skip around an obstacle that. No, he wasn't moving particularly quickly but neither Maara nor Drake. It certainly wasn't the fastest way to walk but since he wasn't having any trouble keeping up with Drake he decided to continue with his somewhat overly elaborate gait in the hope of keeping his clothes somewhat serviceable.
As a result of this Lyssak's concentration was almost entirely devoted to navigating and the only real thoughts he had as he stared the forest floor was that he was rather fond of his shoes.
"Either of you ever been to the city?"
"Hmmm?" said Lyssak distractedly as he finally looked up "Oh, Marn? Well no, never been to Marn before. I was in a place called Sharm once though, miserable little place, the kind of place which is only a village by virtue of the fact it has tavern and a crossroad. Marn is probably different to Sharm, more people and less hay at least."
Lyssak sniffed after saying this, half to determine if Marn smelled anything like Sharm and half because walking though ancient forests tended to clog him up ever so slightly. The latter part of this exercise was immensely successful but the former was somewhat overshadowed by other factors.
"I know this isn't related but you do know we're headed towards something horrible right?" said Lyssak conversationally "It's just earlier you mentioned that you could sense things and you certainly have the ears for it but well... it really is going to be quite horrible."
Lyssak shrugged, honestly he didn't mind horror that much he just that most other people did. If they kept going in this direction there'd probably be scene and screaming and then Lyssak would have to look concerned and they'd never get to the city. Anton suppressed a sigh and looked back down, it was going to be a long day...
But at least he still had nice shoes.
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You'd better run.
You'd better take cover.
You'd better run.
You'd better take cover.
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
For a long, long while, she'd been asleep. She did not dream. Not due to having nothing to dream of - the brain she'd clogged and the air around her swirled with memories that moved unchecked. Nearby soil and roots found themselves remembering events from a past they had not shared; a stray beetle died as cognitive functions beyond its own abilities tried to render it full of conscious thought.
It was a matter of capability. In order to dream, the body needed to have some sort of connection to the mind. A gut-deep sense of recognition and knowing which fueled the subconscious and brought forth images that would make sense to the unconscious mind. But this body and brain were newly connected. Neither had memory of the other; two foreign objects, wedged together by force of the god's will, would not recognize each other until more time passed to let them grow accustomed to each other.
As time went on, eventually the body would learn to dream.
She cracked the lids open wide, staring straight into the midday sun as its wavelengths tried burning into the pupils of her newly created eyes. The hardened black had no reaction; there was no discernible pupil within the black orbs, and she spent no time wincing or adjusting to the sun suddenly shining into her face. She'd been unconscious; now she was awake. The transition between the two states of being was seamless.
Both hands clawed into the ground to help her push herself to sitting. She looked about the clearing, taking the sights into account with a look approaching a sneer. Carcasses littered the ground, their aging entrails stinking with rot. Her priest could not be faulted for inefficiency; each and every corpse was laid bare of the pieces she so craved. Shame the priest himself had failed so utterly. But at least his body had use as her vessel.
She stood, tail lifting slightly off the ground to help with balance. She'd never created such a form as this before, with both wings and tail; this was not a traditional form in the lands she had once laid claim to. But though memories of her previous mental state were fleeting at best, she remembered the exquisite joy of flight. She could not deny herself such a basic right, and most of the energies spent in recreating her corporeal form had gone into the membranous structures. They were odd combinations of multi-colored feathered edges and membranous canvasses. But they suited her needs within reason.
She extended both to their fullest, stretching the muscles until she could feel a small twinge of pain from overextension. It was a test to see if the muscles with connected and functioning as needed. So far they seemed satisfactory; she allowed herself a moment's personal pride, and then approached the first corpse she could find.
Though she stood as the living embodiment of unnatural circumstance, she could not bear to see a body gone to waste. There was a natural order which even mortals had to follow, and these corpses were left to rot upright. Her priest's care had not extended to disposal of the bodies he mutilated, and since he was not here to correct his mistake, she felt it her duty to rearrange that which had been abandoned. In the times before, when sacrifices were demanded as pure tribute to a powerful pantheon of bloodthirsty masters, the priests and followers had consumed the flesh once complete with the sacrifice. The god herself could not endeavor in such a task; human flesh was beneath her. But the animals and insects of the forest existed for the purpose of aiding decay and deterioration. Offering these bodies to their whims would set the balance right.
She reached forth and began using both claws and essence to rend flesh and muscle away from the bones. It was a long, arduous process, but she did not need to exercise care and this saved her time. With skin peeled back and ribcage laid bare, she reached through the gristle to grip two ends of the spine. She jostled, snarled, and twisted at sharp angles. In the end, she had to twist the bones enough that the lower segment would separate. Eventually the ribcage was free of torso and lower body; and this she used as an impromptu basket, to begin the process of layering muscle, fat and bones inside the sloping chasm.
Silent and determined, she worked until satisfied with the presentation. The body was now no more than a pile of assorted sinew and solids, reeking of the fresh scent of blood. It would attract animals both large and small to take part in the feast she'd created. She drew her hands from the carnal basket, and they came away clean as they'd been before. She absorbed the blood through the skin membrane covering her digits, to be recycled through the tendrils of hair which dropped blood on her shoulder with each passing second. The blood remained physical enough to drip and spatter, roll down chest and back in small rivulets before being re-absorbed into her skin. The only drops which escaped entirely were those that dripped straight onto the forest floor, wasted and forgotten.
It was a matter of capability. In order to dream, the body needed to have some sort of connection to the mind. A gut-deep sense of recognition and knowing which fueled the subconscious and brought forth images that would make sense to the unconscious mind. But this body and brain were newly connected. Neither had memory of the other; two foreign objects, wedged together by force of the god's will, would not recognize each other until more time passed to let them grow accustomed to each other.
As time went on, eventually the body would learn to dream.
She cracked the lids open wide, staring straight into the midday sun as its wavelengths tried burning into the pupils of her newly created eyes. The hardened black had no reaction; there was no discernible pupil within the black orbs, and she spent no time wincing or adjusting to the sun suddenly shining into her face. She'd been unconscious; now she was awake. The transition between the two states of being was seamless.
Both hands clawed into the ground to help her push herself to sitting. She looked about the clearing, taking the sights into account with a look approaching a sneer. Carcasses littered the ground, their aging entrails stinking with rot. Her priest could not be faulted for inefficiency; each and every corpse was laid bare of the pieces she so craved. Shame the priest himself had failed so utterly. But at least his body had use as her vessel.
She stood, tail lifting slightly off the ground to help with balance. She'd never created such a form as this before, with both wings and tail; this was not a traditional form in the lands she had once laid claim to. But though memories of her previous mental state were fleeting at best, she remembered the exquisite joy of flight. She could not deny herself such a basic right, and most of the energies spent in recreating her corporeal form had gone into the membranous structures. They were odd combinations of multi-colored feathered edges and membranous canvasses. But they suited her needs within reason.
She extended both to their fullest, stretching the muscles until she could feel a small twinge of pain from overextension. It was a test to see if the muscles with connected and functioning as needed. So far they seemed satisfactory; she allowed herself a moment's personal pride, and then approached the first corpse she could find.
Though she stood as the living embodiment of unnatural circumstance, she could not bear to see a body gone to waste. There was a natural order which even mortals had to follow, and these corpses were left to rot upright. Her priest's care had not extended to disposal of the bodies he mutilated, and since he was not here to correct his mistake, she felt it her duty to rearrange that which had been abandoned. In the times before, when sacrifices were demanded as pure tribute to a powerful pantheon of bloodthirsty masters, the priests and followers had consumed the flesh once complete with the sacrifice. The god herself could not endeavor in such a task; human flesh was beneath her. But the animals and insects of the forest existed for the purpose of aiding decay and deterioration. Offering these bodies to their whims would set the balance right.
She reached forth and began using both claws and essence to rend flesh and muscle away from the bones. It was a long, arduous process, but she did not need to exercise care and this saved her time. With skin peeled back and ribcage laid bare, she reached through the gristle to grip two ends of the spine. She jostled, snarled, and twisted at sharp angles. In the end, she had to twist the bones enough that the lower segment would separate. Eventually the ribcage was free of torso and lower body; and this she used as an impromptu basket, to begin the process of layering muscle, fat and bones inside the sloping chasm.
Silent and determined, she worked until satisfied with the presentation. The body was now no more than a pile of assorted sinew and solids, reeking of the fresh scent of blood. It would attract animals both large and small to take part in the feast she'd created. She drew her hands from the carnal basket, and they came away clean as they'd been before. She absorbed the blood through the skin membrane covering her digits, to be recycled through the tendrils of hair which dropped blood on her shoulder with each passing second. The blood remained physical enough to drip and spatter, roll down chest and back in small rivulets before being re-absorbed into her skin. The only drops which escaped entirely were those that dripped straight onto the forest floor, wasted and forgotten.
I look at people and I see nothing worth liking.
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Maara couldn’t put her finger on it but she felt something. She wasn’t sure what it was; it was sort of like when she first met Devon last night only… darker. It was the only way to describe it. She didn’t know what it was, but she hoped that they wouldn’t run into whatever it was.
"Either of you ever been to the city?" Drake asked and caught Maara’s attention again.
‘Well I guess there won’t be silent after all.’ She thought happily as she pushed aside her thoughts and listened to Anton’s amusing explanation of Sharm, all the while wondering whether to tell the two men of what she had been sensing… it turned out she didn’t have to Anton did it for her. And she agreed with Anton, it was going to be horrible if that smell was any indication of what was to come. It was the same smell that she smelt whenever her mother treated wounded people or when she passed a dead animal or even when she cleaned one for supper.
Blood. It both made her both nauseous and fascinated. It made her want to vomit and get away from it as well as find where the blood was coming from to stop it. There was a lot of blood. She could smell it and she could also sense that the thing making it was still a ways off, but the smell was still so strong.
She was glad her stomach was empty; Maara didn’t want to throw up in front of Drake and Anton. Needless to say she didn’t want to get any closer to whatever it was and yet…
“It smells like a lot of blood…” Maara commented softy. She felt like she was stating the obvious. “Do you think we should check it out?” she asked unsure if she really should ask. She was torn; she hoped the answer was no just as much as she wanted it to be yes.
"Either of you ever been to the city?" Drake asked and caught Maara’s attention again.
‘Well I guess there won’t be silent after all.’ She thought happily as she pushed aside her thoughts and listened to Anton’s amusing explanation of Sharm, all the while wondering whether to tell the two men of what she had been sensing… it turned out she didn’t have to Anton did it for her. And she agreed with Anton, it was going to be horrible if that smell was any indication of what was to come. It was the same smell that she smelt whenever her mother treated wounded people or when she passed a dead animal or even when she cleaned one for supper.
Blood. It both made her both nauseous and fascinated. It made her want to vomit and get away from it as well as find where the blood was coming from to stop it. There was a lot of blood. She could smell it and she could also sense that the thing making it was still a ways off, but the smell was still so strong.
She was glad her stomach was empty; Maara didn’t want to throw up in front of Drake and Anton. Needless to say she didn’t want to get any closer to whatever it was and yet…
“It smells like a lot of blood…” Maara commented softy. She felt like she was stating the obvious. “Do you think we should check it out?” she asked unsure if she really should ask. She was torn; she hoped the answer was no just as much as she wanted it to be yes.
"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
Samuel Beckett
Samuel Beckett
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Drake stopped and turned to face the two people following him. He had sensed the thing, whatever it was, but hadn't really registered it. In the time the half-elf had lived if he had learned nothing else of the forest he had learned that many strange, powerful, and often malevolent things inhabited the forests of this world. It had become almost second-nature to recognize these things and try not to entice them.
"I had noticed," he said, giving Lyssak a look that bordered on angry indignation, "I did not want to frighten either of you, but as you both seem to be capable of realizing the presence for yourself....There are many ancient and powerful things in this world, and many of them seem to prefer the cover of forests. I believe it best that we make an attempt to avoid it. With as heavy as the smell of blood is in the air I dare say we can not help the victims of whatever it is, and I, personally, would prefer not to become the next one to suffer its whims."
He turned and continued on, without further discussion of the matter. He was trying to guide them towards the city without falling across the entity. There was still a chance that they would happen upon it though. This forest...it was strange. It seemed to alter even the most powerful person's perceptions. Even the wind had a way of changing directions in unexpected ways which would have you believe the smells around you came from a wholly different place than they truly did. Drake had become somewhat accustomed to this, and learned to counter it, but there was always that small chance that he would be wrong...
"I had noticed," he said, giving Lyssak a look that bordered on angry indignation, "I did not want to frighten either of you, but as you both seem to be capable of realizing the presence for yourself....There are many ancient and powerful things in this world, and many of them seem to prefer the cover of forests. I believe it best that we make an attempt to avoid it. With as heavy as the smell of blood is in the air I dare say we can not help the victims of whatever it is, and I, personally, would prefer not to become the next one to suffer its whims."
He turned and continued on, without further discussion of the matter. He was trying to guide them towards the city without falling across the entity. There was still a chance that they would happen upon it though. This forest...it was strange. It seemed to alter even the most powerful person's perceptions. Even the wind had a way of changing directions in unexpected ways which would have you believe the smells around you came from a wholly different place than they truly did. Drake had become somewhat accustomed to this, and learned to counter it, but there was always that small chance that he would be wrong...
“Where there is much light, the shadow is deep”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"You know, it wouldn't hurt to think like a serial killer once in a while." -Foamy The Squirrel of Neurotically Yours
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"You know, it wouldn't hurt to think like a serial killer once in a while." -Foamy The Squirrel of Neurotically Yours
-
Anton Lyssak
- Outsider
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Wed Mar 12, 2008 8:45 pm
- Name: Anton
- Race: Human
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Anton didn't bother looking up when Drake turned to address them, he couldn’t afford to break concentration now. He did however allow himself a small smile when he heard Drake’s tone, he didn’t know the man well but if he had to guess he would have said the elf was getting just a tad frustrated.
"Well you heard the man, Miss Maara.” said Anton cheerfully as they began walking again “We’ll be steering clear of it, no reason to worry about it at all.”
Unless of course they took a wrong turn and just so happened to stumble onto the nameless dread, which if Anton was doing anything right they almost certainly would.
He didn't know why it compelled him, he really would have preferred just to get to Marn and perhaps even sleep in a bed for the first time in weeks, but he couldn't ignore it. He'd smelled blood on the air before but this was so very different... there wasn't just blood in the air, there was blood everywhere. The essence of it permeated the forest, somewhere it danced and swirled in ways Anton had never thought possible...
Not that he had given it much thought before mind you after all blood was just blood, nice to have but not the most interesting thing to look at, but whatever was happening in the forest was interesting and as always Anton was a slave to his curiosity.
And so he'd begun to play tricks. Nothing too elaborate mind, there really was no need for extravagance. To be fair the forest was doing most of the work but every so often Anton found cause to help out a bit. He had to be subtle of course, only making the most minute changes to the elf's perception but enough to keep him heading in the right direction, or to be more precise the wrong direction.
However, that required quite a deal of concentration. It was easy to create and illusion but to so minutely play with someone's perception took quite a level of dedication. On top of this he could only manage it with on person, the lady Maara would remain completely unaffected but he hoped she wouldn't speak out. After all she'd found no cause to question Drake earlier and after his rather glib ancient horrors are all about announcement he doubted she would now.
But then again, anything could happen and that's what made it all so fun. Well that and getting to look at his shoes of course.
"Well you heard the man, Miss Maara.” said Anton cheerfully as they began walking again “We’ll be steering clear of it, no reason to worry about it at all.”
Unless of course they took a wrong turn and just so happened to stumble onto the nameless dread, which if Anton was doing anything right they almost certainly would.
He didn't know why it compelled him, he really would have preferred just to get to Marn and perhaps even sleep in a bed for the first time in weeks, but he couldn't ignore it. He'd smelled blood on the air before but this was so very different... there wasn't just blood in the air, there was blood everywhere. The essence of it permeated the forest, somewhere it danced and swirled in ways Anton had never thought possible...
Not that he had given it much thought before mind you after all blood was just blood, nice to have but not the most interesting thing to look at, but whatever was happening in the forest was interesting and as always Anton was a slave to his curiosity.
And so he'd begun to play tricks. Nothing too elaborate mind, there really was no need for extravagance. To be fair the forest was doing most of the work but every so often Anton found cause to help out a bit. He had to be subtle of course, only making the most minute changes to the elf's perception but enough to keep him heading in the right direction, or to be more precise the wrong direction.
However, that required quite a deal of concentration. It was easy to create and illusion but to so minutely play with someone's perception took quite a level of dedication. On top of this he could only manage it with on person, the lady Maara would remain completely unaffected but he hoped she wouldn't speak out. After all she'd found no cause to question Drake earlier and after his rather glib ancient horrors are all about announcement he doubted she would now.
But then again, anything could happen and that's what made it all so fun. Well that and getting to look at his shoes of course.
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You'd better run.
You'd better take cover.
You'd better run.
You'd better take cover.
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
"I had noticed," Maara was glad that it was Anton that most of Drakes frustration was directed at. "I did not want to frighten either of you, but as you both seem to be capable of realizing the presence for yourself.... There are many ancient and powerful things in this world, and many of them seem to prefer the cover of forests. I believe it best that we make an attempt to avoid it. With as heavy as the smell of blood is in the air I dare say we can not help the victims of whatever it is, and I, personally, would prefer not to become the next one to suffer its whims."
She felt both relief and disappointment at that answer. Even though she knew that whatever was there could possibly kill them, or at the very least her, easily she couldn’t fight off the curiosity to see what it was that made all that blood.
"Well you heard the man, Miss Maara,” said Anton cheerfully to her. “We’ll be steering clear of it, no reason to worry about it at all.”
She had to admit that he did have a point, they both did. If it was dangerous they should leave it well alone and not worry about it. She relaxed as they started walking again and stated to observe her surroundings. When she finally got bored with that she started to observe Drake and Anton. Her surroundings were more interesting, although she did notice that even from behind, Anton had a really nice pair of shoes.
The silence was starting to get to her again and she thought briefly about breaking it again, but she looked back at Drake and noticed that he still looked a little tense. He was probably still frustrated from before so she decided not to.
In an attempt to keep her entertained she started to hum quietly to herself as she walked. At first it started out as a little random tune she had made up but after a while she recognized it as the song her mother taught to her. It made her feel nostalgic and she suddenly lost herself in happy memories… until a large whiff of blood broke through and brought her back to the present.
‘Is it just me,’ Maara thought to herself. ‘Or is the smell getting stronger?’ she shook her head at that. ‘That’s impossible, Drake said we were staying away from it… the wind must be blowing it our way.’ She knew that wasn’t true because there was no wind. It was then that she felt that instead of instead of getting further away from the horrible thing they were actually getting closer. This was starting to make her worry and she was about to say something, until she remembered Anton’s words from a few minutes ago.
Maara silently laughed at herself. ‘Your just being paranoid, Drake knows what his doing. So stop worrying.’ With that she once again tried to distracted herself by humming… but she still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right. ‘It’s just the smell,’ she told herself to make her feel better.
It didn’t help.
She felt both relief and disappointment at that answer. Even though she knew that whatever was there could possibly kill them, or at the very least her, easily she couldn’t fight off the curiosity to see what it was that made all that blood.
"Well you heard the man, Miss Maara,” said Anton cheerfully to her. “We’ll be steering clear of it, no reason to worry about it at all.”
She had to admit that he did have a point, they both did. If it was dangerous they should leave it well alone and not worry about it. She relaxed as they started walking again and stated to observe her surroundings. When she finally got bored with that she started to observe Drake and Anton. Her surroundings were more interesting, although she did notice that even from behind, Anton had a really nice pair of shoes.
The silence was starting to get to her again and she thought briefly about breaking it again, but she looked back at Drake and noticed that he still looked a little tense. He was probably still frustrated from before so she decided not to.
In an attempt to keep her entertained she started to hum quietly to herself as she walked. At first it started out as a little random tune she had made up but after a while she recognized it as the song her mother taught to her. It made her feel nostalgic and she suddenly lost herself in happy memories… until a large whiff of blood broke through and brought her back to the present.
‘Is it just me,’ Maara thought to herself. ‘Or is the smell getting stronger?’ she shook her head at that. ‘That’s impossible, Drake said we were staying away from it… the wind must be blowing it our way.’ She knew that wasn’t true because there was no wind. It was then that she felt that instead of instead of getting further away from the horrible thing they were actually getting closer. This was starting to make her worry and she was about to say something, until she remembered Anton’s words from a few minutes ago.
Maara silently laughed at herself. ‘Your just being paranoid, Drake knows what his doing. So stop worrying.’ With that she once again tried to distracted herself by humming… but she still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right. ‘It’s just the smell,’ she told herself to make her feel better.
It didn’t help.
"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
Samuel Beckett
Samuel Beckett
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Drake walked on, glowering at the path ahead in frustration, as Lyssak finished up his little line of snide remarks. "You know you want to leave them now," The Other whispered to him. He could not deny that he was more likely to agree now. Maara he would not abandon to fend for herself, but Anton...if the man fell into a chasm he wouldn't expend any energies worrying over the corpse. A wicked smile crossed his face as he began to tramp down a bush of thorn vines.
The smile faded as he realized what was happening. In his moment of anger his other side had started to gain some measure of control. The half-elf stopped and breathed for a moment to calm himself. He could not allow that to happen. If it did, it was very likely that his two companions would suffer far worse than being left in the forest to fend for themselves.
He was about to return to smashing the bush to a more manageable height when the girl's words stopped him, his foot dangling a few inches above the bush. He sat the boot down and sniffed at the air. No, if anything the smell seemed fainter. His forehead was creased with confusion.
Drake closed his eyes and shut himself off to the external, feeling around him with nothing but his sense for magic. The presence was closer. How had this happened? Any creature as powerful as this one felt would have been able to change the perceptions of the entire party, so why leave Maara to sense that they were not headed away from it. He puzzled over it for a moment before he remembered the summoned illusion of a rose. An angry, near homicidal, glare was turned on Anton.
"If you are so set on feeding the three of us to this thing, then lead the way you damned fool." He stood to the side to leave the path ahead clear for Lyssak. His hand almost went to his rapier, but he held it in check. When they came upon whatever this powerful creature was, Lyssak would be run through in the most painful way imaginable should the thing prove as malevolent as it felt.
The smile faded as he realized what was happening. In his moment of anger his other side had started to gain some measure of control. The half-elf stopped and breathed for a moment to calm himself. He could not allow that to happen. If it did, it was very likely that his two companions would suffer far worse than being left in the forest to fend for themselves.
He was about to return to smashing the bush to a more manageable height when the girl's words stopped him, his foot dangling a few inches above the bush. He sat the boot down and sniffed at the air. No, if anything the smell seemed fainter. His forehead was creased with confusion.
Drake closed his eyes and shut himself off to the external, feeling around him with nothing but his sense for magic. The presence was closer. How had this happened? Any creature as powerful as this one felt would have been able to change the perceptions of the entire party, so why leave Maara to sense that they were not headed away from it. He puzzled over it for a moment before he remembered the summoned illusion of a rose. An angry, near homicidal, glare was turned on Anton.
"If you are so set on feeding the three of us to this thing, then lead the way you damned fool." He stood to the side to leave the path ahead clear for Lyssak. His hand almost went to his rapier, but he held it in check. When they came upon whatever this powerful creature was, Lyssak would be run through in the most painful way imaginable should the thing prove as malevolent as it felt.
“Where there is much light, the shadow is deep”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"You know, it wouldn't hurt to think like a serial killer once in a while." -Foamy The Squirrel of Neurotically Yours
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"You know, it wouldn't hurt to think like a serial killer once in a while." -Foamy The Squirrel of Neurotically Yours
-
Anton Lyssak
- Outsider
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Wed Mar 12, 2008 8:45 pm
- Name: Anton
- Race: Human
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Anton looked up slowly from his feet, his expression one of complete surprise.
"...wow." he said as he stared at Drake "I am well and truly impressed."
Apparently he’d been caught out, something which didn’t really happen that often, and on top of this he was now being directly confronted about it. Anton Lyssak knew when the time had come to give it up.
"You know I've been a whole lot of places and met a whole lot of people but you sir are the first man I have ever met you actually tried to blame someone following them for the fact they took a wrong turn." said Lyssak archly "If you didn't know the way you could have just said that, I mean you impressed us enough when you flew into the air to have a gander round so there really was no need to claim to be the pathfinder general as well."
Anton Lyssak also knew when it was time to keep going.
How sure was he? How sure could you possibly be? Surely it was a bit of stretch to blame the guy walking behind you looking at his feet for getting lost? After all was this not a forest swarming with evil? He hadn’t just jumped to an conclusion he’d leapt to one.
Sure he was right but what did that matter?
"Okay I admit I did sort of think we were still headed in the wrong direction..” said Lyssak as he held his hands for moment “but I just assumed you knew what you were doing. Maybe that was wrong of me but I do seem to recall the last time I questioned the route for the exact same reason I got an awfully snippy response."
Drake had his hand by his sword but that wasn’t important, in fact he wasn't important anymore. He'd set his mind on the ludicrous idea that Anton was behind based on little more than what Anton assumed to be Elvin logic and paranoia and at this point Lyssak doubted he could convince him otherwise if he didn't happen to be completely right. Anton was now had to admit that Drake Istalii was a lost cause but luckily there was still someone left to win over.
"And I might say kudos to miss Maara for speaking up" said Anton continued "Because we probably would have been on top of the thing before I would have opened my mouth again.
No need to pander of course, just some brief affirmation would hopefully do the trick. it was genuine in a way, she'd shown some backbone making the observation after the last time, but even if it hadn't been it still would have sounded like it was. Lyssak was an entertainer and as such had spent most of his life dealing with people and while he wouldn't exactly class anyone else in the clearing a person he had learned to sound genuine about almost anything. After all when you really got down to it deception was the stock and trade of all illusionists.
"But fine, if you're so dead set on having me go first I will." said Anton after affecting a brief pause where he did everything but roll his eyes to convey his exasperation "But before we start I'd just like to say that if we do happen to run into an unimaginable hell beast it's probably because I have no idea where I'm going rather than some sinister plot to lead us to our doom."
So Anton breezed forward to take lead, hoping Drake would neither stop him nor stab him as he moved past, and began to wonder what would be the quickest route to said hell beast.
"...wow." he said as he stared at Drake "I am well and truly impressed."
Apparently he’d been caught out, something which didn’t really happen that often, and on top of this he was now being directly confronted about it. Anton Lyssak knew when the time had come to give it up.
"You know I've been a whole lot of places and met a whole lot of people but you sir are the first man I have ever met you actually tried to blame someone following them for the fact they took a wrong turn." said Lyssak archly "If you didn't know the way you could have just said that, I mean you impressed us enough when you flew into the air to have a gander round so there really was no need to claim to be the pathfinder general as well."
Anton Lyssak also knew when it was time to keep going.
How sure was he? How sure could you possibly be? Surely it was a bit of stretch to blame the guy walking behind you looking at his feet for getting lost? After all was this not a forest swarming with evil? He hadn’t just jumped to an conclusion he’d leapt to one.
Sure he was right but what did that matter?
"Okay I admit I did sort of think we were still headed in the wrong direction..” said Lyssak as he held his hands for moment “but I just assumed you knew what you were doing. Maybe that was wrong of me but I do seem to recall the last time I questioned the route for the exact same reason I got an awfully snippy response."
Drake had his hand by his sword but that wasn’t important, in fact he wasn't important anymore. He'd set his mind on the ludicrous idea that Anton was behind based on little more than what Anton assumed to be Elvin logic and paranoia and at this point Lyssak doubted he could convince him otherwise if he didn't happen to be completely right. Anton was now had to admit that Drake Istalii was a lost cause but luckily there was still someone left to win over.
"And I might say kudos to miss Maara for speaking up" said Anton continued "Because we probably would have been on top of the thing before I would have opened my mouth again.
No need to pander of course, just some brief affirmation would hopefully do the trick. it was genuine in a way, she'd shown some backbone making the observation after the last time, but even if it hadn't been it still would have sounded like it was. Lyssak was an entertainer and as such had spent most of his life dealing with people and while he wouldn't exactly class anyone else in the clearing a person he had learned to sound genuine about almost anything. After all when you really got down to it deception was the stock and trade of all illusionists.
"But fine, if you're so dead set on having me go first I will." said Anton after affecting a brief pause where he did everything but roll his eyes to convey his exasperation "But before we start I'd just like to say that if we do happen to run into an unimaginable hell beast it's probably because I have no idea where I'm going rather than some sinister plot to lead us to our doom."
So Anton breezed forward to take lead, hoping Drake would neither stop him nor stab him as he moved past, and began to wonder what would be the quickest route to said hell beast.
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You'd better run.
You'd better take cover.
You'd better run.
You'd better take cover.
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
There was no beast of hell in their path; merely an idle god at work in a garden of flesh. She had completed her work on three of the corpses dangling nearby, each now turned into a bouquet of death. Bones jutted straight up from the modified ribcage, filled to the brim with a viscous stew of entrails. The god was satisfied with each arrangement upon completion, and made a point to make each one individual in some small way. The heads were tipped and mashed from the bottom down, crushing the interior landscape into gooey paste so that she could fit more inside the skullcap. A body was not made to be condensed in such a way, and the pieces snapped or cracked under the strain she was forcing on them. It was just as well, since she'd had to snap and crack those pieces determined to resist.
She sat back on her haunches, digging her clawed toes into the ground as she eyed the creations she'd already managed. Seven more bodies remained for conversion, and she was well pleased with this reality. It was a convenient way to pass the time.
Content to continue until her mission was fulfilled, she returned to work with renewed vigour. Now six left, only six left...and then she would be left with nothing further. She remained distanced from this realization of impending boredom, focusing on the task before her. Blood dripped continuously from her hair, staining the ground surrounding her but not her actual body.
Five more, only five to go...
She sat back on her haunches, digging her clawed toes into the ground as she eyed the creations she'd already managed. Seven more bodies remained for conversion, and she was well pleased with this reality. It was a convenient way to pass the time.
Content to continue until her mission was fulfilled, she returned to work with renewed vigour. Now six left, only six left...and then she would be left with nothing further. She remained distanced from this realization of impending boredom, focusing on the task before her. Blood dripped continuously from her hair, staining the ground surrounding her but not her actual body.
Five more, only five to go...
I look at people and I see nothing worth liking.
Re: Sympathy for the Devil
Maara stopped her humming when she heard Drake's angry accusation. She wasn't sure who his anger was directed at until she looked at him and noticed that he was glaring at Anton... she also noticed take his hand was near his rapier.
'Oh, dear.' She thought to herself. 'I hope they don't start fighting.' She wasn't sure what she would do if they started fighting. 'Probably hide and wait for one to kill the other, then follow him.' That thought made her scowl even though it was probably true. She listened silently as Anton argued with Drake about blaming the people that were following him for getting lost, which Maara had to admit was a little silly as well.
"And I might say kudos to miss Maara for speaking up. Because we probably would have been on top of the thing before I would have opened my mouth again." This startled and confused her. When did she say anything? She started to think back and realized that she had said her comment about the smell out loud without meaning to.
"Oh, I didn't even realize I had said that out loud how silly of me." She blushed as she said this and she wasn't even sure that the men were listening to her at the moment. Anton seemed to finish his speech and was now leading the way to... were ever it was they were going now. She hesitated a moment before following Anton. Where ever he was going it was better then standing in the middle of the woods.
She looked at Drake's face as she passed him but quickly turned away when she saw the anger on his face. Some of it was probably directed at her now. 'Of course it is,' she thought bitterly to herself. 'I'm following the one he was arguing with just a few moments ago, that itself is a sign of betrayal.' Guilt started to fill her up to the point that she didn't even feel uncomfortable with showing him her back. That small token of trust was the least she could do to help make up for her betrayal.
Maara kept her head low as she walked through bush. She was so absorbed by her guilt that she didn't even acknowledge that the smell was still getting strong.
'Oh, dear.' She thought to herself. 'I hope they don't start fighting.' She wasn't sure what she would do if they started fighting. 'Probably hide and wait for one to kill the other, then follow him.' That thought made her scowl even though it was probably true. She listened silently as Anton argued with Drake about blaming the people that were following him for getting lost, which Maara had to admit was a little silly as well.
"And I might say kudos to miss Maara for speaking up. Because we probably would have been on top of the thing before I would have opened my mouth again." This startled and confused her. When did she say anything? She started to think back and realized that she had said her comment about the smell out loud without meaning to.
"Oh, I didn't even realize I had said that out loud how silly of me." She blushed as she said this and she wasn't even sure that the men were listening to her at the moment. Anton seemed to finish his speech and was now leading the way to... were ever it was they were going now. She hesitated a moment before following Anton. Where ever he was going it was better then standing in the middle of the woods.
She looked at Drake's face as she passed him but quickly turned away when she saw the anger on his face. Some of it was probably directed at her now. 'Of course it is,' she thought bitterly to herself. 'I'm following the one he was arguing with just a few moments ago, that itself is a sign of betrayal.' Guilt started to fill her up to the point that she didn't even feel uncomfortable with showing him her back. That small token of trust was the least she could do to help make up for her betrayal.
Maara kept her head low as she walked through bush. She was so absorbed by her guilt that she didn't even acknowledge that the smell was still getting strong.
"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
Samuel Beckett
Samuel Beckett