As Lucian ran towards the next archer he stole glances over the edge of the shield. The archer across the arena was less of a threat but still dangerous. The man he ran towards had an advantage with his shots as Lucian ran directly towards him. The closer they came together the harder it would be to see the incoming arrows. Lucian's best net would be to watch the man's hand for when he released his shot.
Bringing his shield up Lucian was greeted with two more *spangs* as arrows struck the metal. He glanced once again to take stock of his opponents.
The archer he approached was holding his shot waiting for the right time to shoot. This wasn't good at all. Once Lucian brought his shield up to avoid another arrow he would leave his legs and right side open as the angle of incoming arrows changed. Out of his peripheral vision he watched as the far archer drew back to fire once again...they were going to time this well.
Suddenly the man before him lurched awkwardly as an arrowhead sprouted from his eye socket. The arrow he had held launched harmlessly overhead as his body then fell to the arena floor below. Looking past the place where his foe had stood he saw Devlin standing. She held a bow of her own straight ahead. Her other arm still by her ear where she had released the string. The smirk on her face let Lucian know he was in for a, "You owe me one" and he smiled back at her.
Her eyes widened in shock and surprise and Lucian saw a shaft and fletching appear in her side.
"DEVLIIIIIN!!!" Lucian screamed and he sprinted towards her heedless of any possible danger. The archer on the opposite side also ran in the same direction, moving to protect the wizard.
As Lucian drew close to Devlin his mind raced taking in almost too much information. Her breaths were coming in short, shallow, pained gasps, there was blood at her mouth, she was still awake and had not fallen back onto the arrow, how to remove it, should it be removed, how to help her...and on...all in an instant.
When he reached her she was kneeling but falling backwards. Dropping his sword and shield Lucian caught her and eased her into a more comfortable position. Very little blood was at the wound but judging by the location at least one lung was punctured...maybe both...maybe more than just lung. He pushed these thoughts away.
"I'm here Dev. I'm here. I've got you and you're going to be alright." His heart thundered in his chest and his mouth was bone dry.
Devlin coughed spraying flecks of blood onto her chin and chest. "You normally lie better." she tried to smile but it quickly became a wince when she tried to breath in.
"Shhhh...don't talk. Save your breath and I'll get you out of here.", Lucian soothed brushing his hand against her forehead.
"I'm not leaving...but...don't feel bad..." her breathing was becoming shorter and faster. "I got what I always wanted today." She panted.
"What was that Dev?" Lucian asked swallowing dryly.
"I got you...to cry out my name...with feeling." She smiled and laughed softly between coughs.
He smiled down at her brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.
"You see Luc...," she gasped "You aren't the only one who has cheesy lines." And with that her eyes became distant and she was gone.
Most people say that rage burns in them. For Lucian that was never the case. For him rage was always a thing of cold...and now it poured over him like an arctic waterfall from head to toe.
Laying Devlin down gently he stood and turned towards the remaining men. The archer had passed the wizard's chair and was heading down the walkway towards him. The archer's pace slowed when he saw his prey stand and he held an arrow at the ready.
Lucian bent and picked up his sword. The handle seemed to hum in his grasp and it felt like a part of him, sharing in his ice cold rage. His head was bowed slightly as he took a deep, slow, deliberate breath. Slowly he raised his head and eyes to stare at the man before him. His face was a mask of calm as he raised the katana in his hand and pointed at his foe...and then he began to jog forward. His pace was not fast at all. It was a distance pace. The pace of one who had traveled long time under his own power. The pace of one who knew how to keep going in even the most desolate of places. It was the pace of a Waste Runner.
The archer knew distance was his ally so he took careful aim and the naked man before him. The fool had left the shield where it lay in an obvious emotional mistake and he would pay for it dearly. He aimed at the lower mid-mass of his target, shooting for the hips. As the arrow flew he smirked at how painful this man's death would be.
*TAK* The arrow seemed to unintentionally strike the hilt of the man's sword as he jogged forward. The man seemed to take no notice of this good luck and just continued to jog. Another arrow was launched, this one higher. *TAK* The man's blade seemed to just barely parry the arrow aside as he continued to jog. *TAK* Again it seemed the arrow was barely parried. The man's expression didn't change nor did his pace. Despite the apparent leisurely manner in which the man ran he was almost upon the archer. In a panic the archer knocked two arrows at once to his string. It was a terrible shot for accuracy at any great distance but up close...there was no way he could block both arrows. No....way. He waited until the man was almost upon him and he loosed both arrows.
Lucian's sword flashed quickly, slicing an arrow coming for his stomach neatly in two. Blood splashed on his face and he stopped.
The tip from the second arrow was barely a finger tips distance from his left eye. A drop of blood slowly pulled away from it and fell on his cheek. Looking back from the point Lucian could see torn flesh of his forearm tangled on the shaft as it pierced through just beneath his wrist. He slowly lowered his arm and stared at the archer who stood in shock.
Lucian strode forward as the archer dropped his bow and fumbled for the falchion at his side. As the thick bladed weapon was drawn out Lucian neatly flipped his own blade so it faced upwards and slid it forward. As the archer continued to bring his weapon outwards his own motion dragged his arm along the razor-like blade cutting deeply and cruelly.
With a yelp of surprise the man dropped his weapon and turned to run. Lucian was on him in a moment. His sword sliced effortlessly through the tendons at the back of the man's legs dropping him roughly to his knees. He then stepped close and held the man in place with the back of his sword.
"Do you have any last words or regrets?" Lucian growled in the man's ear.
"Yes! I...*GUK*" the archer's words were cut off as Lucian drove the arrow, still logged in his arm, into the man's throat.
"Just wondering." Lucian finished. He then broke the fletched end off the arrow and slid his arm off the shaft, leaving it sticking from its owner's throat.
"Now wizard," Lucian began "I believe you still owe me a dance. No?"
Lucian looked up to the large chair at the end of the arena and found it empty. Quickly looking around he confirmed the wizard was nowhere to be seen.
Where rage was a frozen wasteland within him hatred always burned...and now it roared within him.
"WIZAAAAARD!!!" Lucian's roaring voice matched the fire within him. "I will find you! You will beg me for death!!!"
Lucian turned to face his fallen Devlin. Something squeezed his heart and his throat burned suddenly but he fought those feelings. He took a step forward and stumbled slightly. Now that the fighting was done his body was tired. Taking a few more steps he heard the clang of his sword as it slipped from his grasp. Looking down confusedly his head swam. "What?" he began...then he noticed numbness in his limbs..."Poison..." he mumbled. The arrows must also be poisoned somehow. Quickly he tried to begin the spell he had learned to remove the toxin from him...to heal his wounds...darkness began to envelope him...but...was it the spell or..was....he....
The stone floor felt cool against his naked body as he fell.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
Hunted: Part 11
Lucian devoured the distance to the wall with long hungry strides. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead but his mind went over the details and plans...which he knew would change as they always did.
The walls stood at twice the span of a tall man. At the top of the walls, at roughly the cardinal points of the oblong arena, stood archers. Each had a rectangular shield propped in front of their position by falchion to provide both cover from arena fighting archers and a secondary weapon set should someone mount the wall.
Each archer was strenuously trained to be accurate from any of the positions and, if required, would fire at foes in combat with one of his cohorts. The span that ran around the arena was roughly 6 feet across with another wall the reached the high arched ceiling preventing someone from circling around.
Lucian knew their very strict commands. They would only fire at someone who managed to gain purchase at the top of the wall...unless the wizard commanded them to fire upon someone still in the pit.
Lucian ran directly towards the wall keeping his eyes away from his true destination. The less time the archers had to respond the better.
Cutting sharply to the right Lucian ran parallel to the wall, his eyes now focused on the large poleaxe still lodged in its surface. As he got closer he leapt landing on the very end of the long haft. The thick handle flexed under his weight and then released like a spring launching him suddenly upward.
As his feet left his perch he threw his katana at the archer nearest him; the blade spinning towards its target made an evil slicing sound.
The archer was taken aback by the sudden missile weapon spinning towards him. Dropping awkwardly to the side his knocked arrow launched harmlessly out into the arena.
With the added force provided by the poleaxe Lucian easily managed to vault to the top of the wall. He quickly tucked and rolled forward in a somersault bringing him to his feet in its completion. The *TACK* *TACK* sound of arrows striking stone marked where his body had been a moment before.
The distance to the archer was only three long strides but Lucian's sword now lay behind his foe. Naked and unarmed he sprinted toward the recovering archer trying to close the distance as quickly as possible.
The archer dropped his bow and deftly picked up his sword and shield backing up as he did so. He was trained for this situation and he knew exactly how to deal with this naked fool. He knew his foe, unarmed and unarmored, would be on the defensive avoiding the cruel single edged sword he faced. His job was to simply keep his enemy occupied while his brothers quickly ending his life from afar.
Lucian knew the archer's plan and simply ran forward throwing a powerful front kick directly at the center of his enemy. Instinctively the archer brought his shield up which simply formed a solid point for the force to strike and push him backwards suddenly.
The archer's heels struck something. Glancing down he noted the long curved blade thrown at him a moment ago. Obviously his opponent planned to force him back to gain his weapon. THAT wasn't going to happen. Planting his feet he placed his shield defensively and his sword atop his shield point facing his foe.
Lucian faked another kick at the shield before him knowing how the man would react. With limited space to fight, a wall to his immediate right, and a shield on his left arm the man had to either let the kick connect or...
The archer saw the expected kick come in. Instead of bracing for the blow he relaxed his arm slightly dropping his shield to the left. He rolled his right wrist around bring his sword down in a vicious arc that would certainly hack into the extended and exposed leg.
Lucian let his feinted kick slide off the shield allowing him to step forward with his right leg. As the sword cleaved downwards he pivoted to his left opening space for the blade to pass. As the archer's sword arm was now extended forward Lucian grabbed the edge of the man's shield and viciously shoved it towards the wall. His opponent's wrist painfully pinched between the unforgiving stone of the all and the hard edge of his own shield with a crack.
The archer saw the man step forward instead of forcefully kick. His mind raced as to why or how he missed this gambit...but only for a moment. Suddenly his shield arm jerked to the side and his sword arm exploded in pain as he definitely felt something break in his arm. He watched in horror as his unresponsive hand simply let his weapon fall.
Lucian neatly caught the falling sword in an underhanded grip. Simultaneously pulling the shield arm back and slashing at the archer's now exposed neck he dispatched his opponent. He quickly picked the shield from his dying foe's arm and retrieved his own sword from the ground.
As he lay face down the archer watched his last moments pump away from him slower and softer with each beat of his heart. How...............how..........h..........
Lucian ducked behind his shield in time for another group of arrows to strike. *THAKTHAK* They hit almost as one. But...there should be three more archers....three arrows. Risking a quick glance above his only protection his eyes took everything in.
The archer at this end of the arena lay dead at his feet. Along each long length of wall another archer stood, each with matched sword and shield. At the far end was his goal...the wizard and...standing off to one side stood Devlin. At her feet lay the third archer face down, one of her daggers stood proudly from the man's back. She was knocking an arrow to the bow she had taken from him.
The wizard...looked amused.
Lucian began running down the section of wall that was on his right. This allowed him the most protection while using the shield and as long as both archers didn't shoot so the arrows reached him at the same time....he should be fine.
...Right?
The walls stood at twice the span of a tall man. At the top of the walls, at roughly the cardinal points of the oblong arena, stood archers. Each had a rectangular shield propped in front of their position by falchion to provide both cover from arena fighting archers and a secondary weapon set should someone mount the wall.
Each archer was strenuously trained to be accurate from any of the positions and, if required, would fire at foes in combat with one of his cohorts. The span that ran around the arena was roughly 6 feet across with another wall the reached the high arched ceiling preventing someone from circling around.
Lucian knew their very strict commands. They would only fire at someone who managed to gain purchase at the top of the wall...unless the wizard commanded them to fire upon someone still in the pit.
Lucian ran directly towards the wall keeping his eyes away from his true destination. The less time the archers had to respond the better.
Cutting sharply to the right Lucian ran parallel to the wall, his eyes now focused on the large poleaxe still lodged in its surface. As he got closer he leapt landing on the very end of the long haft. The thick handle flexed under his weight and then released like a spring launching him suddenly upward.
As his feet left his perch he threw his katana at the archer nearest him; the blade spinning towards its target made an evil slicing sound.
The archer was taken aback by the sudden missile weapon spinning towards him. Dropping awkwardly to the side his knocked arrow launched harmlessly out into the arena.
With the added force provided by the poleaxe Lucian easily managed to vault to the top of the wall. He quickly tucked and rolled forward in a somersault bringing him to his feet in its completion. The *TACK* *TACK* sound of arrows striking stone marked where his body had been a moment before.
The distance to the archer was only three long strides but Lucian's sword now lay behind his foe. Naked and unarmed he sprinted toward the recovering archer trying to close the distance as quickly as possible.
The archer dropped his bow and deftly picked up his sword and shield backing up as he did so. He was trained for this situation and he knew exactly how to deal with this naked fool. He knew his foe, unarmed and unarmored, would be on the defensive avoiding the cruel single edged sword he faced. His job was to simply keep his enemy occupied while his brothers quickly ending his life from afar.
Lucian knew the archer's plan and simply ran forward throwing a powerful front kick directly at the center of his enemy. Instinctively the archer brought his shield up which simply formed a solid point for the force to strike and push him backwards suddenly.
The archer's heels struck something. Glancing down he noted the long curved blade thrown at him a moment ago. Obviously his opponent planned to force him back to gain his weapon. THAT wasn't going to happen. Planting his feet he placed his shield defensively and his sword atop his shield point facing his foe.
Lucian faked another kick at the shield before him knowing how the man would react. With limited space to fight, a wall to his immediate right, and a shield on his left arm the man had to either let the kick connect or...
The archer saw the expected kick come in. Instead of bracing for the blow he relaxed his arm slightly dropping his shield to the left. He rolled his right wrist around bring his sword down in a vicious arc that would certainly hack into the extended and exposed leg.
Lucian let his feinted kick slide off the shield allowing him to step forward with his right leg. As the sword cleaved downwards he pivoted to his left opening space for the blade to pass. As the archer's sword arm was now extended forward Lucian grabbed the edge of the man's shield and viciously shoved it towards the wall. His opponent's wrist painfully pinched between the unforgiving stone of the all and the hard edge of his own shield with a crack.
The archer saw the man step forward instead of forcefully kick. His mind raced as to why or how he missed this gambit...but only for a moment. Suddenly his shield arm jerked to the side and his sword arm exploded in pain as he definitely felt something break in his arm. He watched in horror as his unresponsive hand simply let his weapon fall.
Lucian neatly caught the falling sword in an underhanded grip. Simultaneously pulling the shield arm back and slashing at the archer's now exposed neck he dispatched his opponent. He quickly picked the shield from his dying foe's arm and retrieved his own sword from the ground.
As he lay face down the archer watched his last moments pump away from him slower and softer with each beat of his heart. How...............how..........h..........
Lucian ducked behind his shield in time for another group of arrows to strike. *THAKTHAK* They hit almost as one. But...there should be three more archers....three arrows. Risking a quick glance above his only protection his eyes took everything in.
The archer at this end of the arena lay dead at his feet. Along each long length of wall another archer stood, each with matched sword and shield. At the far end was his goal...the wizard and...standing off to one side stood Devlin. At her feet lay the third archer face down, one of her daggers stood proudly from the man's back. She was knocking an arrow to the bow she had taken from him.
The wizard...looked amused.
Lucian began running down the section of wall that was on his right. This allowed him the most protection while using the shield and as long as both archers didn't shoot so the arrows reached him at the same time....he should be fine.
...Right?
Thursday, December 5, 2013
*TOOT* *TOOT* The Fail Train!
I honestly think at times that I'm a failure. I am....and have failed...so it isn't specifically that. Everyone has, at one time or another, failed. Not succeeded. No shame in that. In fact...most great moves forward come from the stumbles, trips, and even falls of previous attempts.
But...at times...I feel I have failed greatly. Missed a very large and important mark. Or from time to time missed several.
Most of these feelings come from my own expectations...sometimes ones I've chosen to accept from outside sources but mostly from me alone.
I usually manage to, eventually, come to grips that my perceived failing or failure was in fact simply a different way to grow or a new opportunity.
But sometimes...when outside distractions grow quiet...the short and unerasable list stares me in the face and I can not rationalize it away. There are things that I personally feel I have failed at...that I have failed utterly and unequivocally NOT succeeded at.
I'd like to think that...I could take the missed opportunities and learn from them but......each rare but grand failure...is different and comes so unexpectedly that the wisdom I'd learned from past faux pas does me little to no good at all.
Like an albatross they hang from my neck and no hand can remove them.
I simply continue with my life...acting out each day like I can make some magical comeback like the protagonist in a novel. Through witty, sincere, heartfelt truths spoken to the woman I love I win her heart and we marry in a magical wedding. Like I can simply walk away from my job with a firm but honest opinion about why I'm leaving to do the things I love and be successful at them. But no credits will roll while a cool and popular "feel good" sing plays on the sound track....while short images flash in smaller boxes showing how great and wonderful life has become.
I just keep rolling farther down the line in my failure train. Thinking back to how I should have gotten off at "that" stop.
I don't often think these things...just sometimes. I specifically try to avoid dwelling on these things, not simply because of the melancholy feelings they bring but because if I spend my time looking back down the tracks at the stop I missed...I'll most likely miss another...
Enjoy the ride but don't miss your transfers and stops.
But...at times...I feel I have failed greatly. Missed a very large and important mark. Or from time to time missed several.
Most of these feelings come from my own expectations...sometimes ones I've chosen to accept from outside sources but mostly from me alone.
I usually manage to, eventually, come to grips that my perceived failing or failure was in fact simply a different way to grow or a new opportunity.
But sometimes...when outside distractions grow quiet...the short and unerasable list stares me in the face and I can not rationalize it away. There are things that I personally feel I have failed at...that I have failed utterly and unequivocally NOT succeeded at.
I'd like to think that...I could take the missed opportunities and learn from them but......each rare but grand failure...is different and comes so unexpectedly that the wisdom I'd learned from past faux pas does me little to no good at all.
Like an albatross they hang from my neck and no hand can remove them.
I simply continue with my life...acting out each day like I can make some magical comeback like the protagonist in a novel. Through witty, sincere, heartfelt truths spoken to the woman I love I win her heart and we marry in a magical wedding. Like I can simply walk away from my job with a firm but honest opinion about why I'm leaving to do the things I love and be successful at them. But no credits will roll while a cool and popular "feel good" sing plays on the sound track....while short images flash in smaller boxes showing how great and wonderful life has become.
I just keep rolling farther down the line in my failure train. Thinking back to how I should have gotten off at "that" stop.
I don't often think these things...just sometimes. I specifically try to avoid dwelling on these things, not simply because of the melancholy feelings they bring but because if I spend my time looking back down the tracks at the stop I missed...I'll most likely miss another...
Enjoy the ride but don't miss your transfers and stops.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Hunted Part: 10
Lucian’s sword snapped forward like the strike of a snake. With just a flick the first few inches of his blade sliced into his foe’s skull right between his eyes. Dewach grunted and staggered slightly pulling his head away.
Lucian watched the wound heal almost instantly, the blood drawing into the wound until no trace remained.
Dewach swung his huge poleaxe in a wide arc but the weapon was easily avoided. As it passed Lucian darted forward again striking twice just above the eyes.
After each pass Lucian struck and cut. Each wound brought a grunt of pain and closed quickly.
“You’re slow and your weapon is slower.” Lucian taunted. “You can’t change direction, feint, parry or block effectively once you’ve swung, and your attacks lack flexibility. In short...you’re a terrible opponent.”
As if to prove his point he pressed the attack. Feinting for his large foe’s stomach he then switched angles and again slashed the beast’s brow.
Again and again he struck. Each time changing how the attack started or the angle it came from. Each time cutting deeply into the face of his opponent. Each time the wounds quickly healed.
Lucian noted that the blood did not always flow into the wound it came from. It simply seemed to seek to return. To be whole again.
“Luciaaan..” came a bored cry from the upper tier of the arena. “You are boring me. You’ve tried the same attacks many times. Mix things up.”
The wizard’s raised eyebrow and frown should his lack of enthusiasm as he spoke, “Entertain me in your last moments. You can obviously see your attacks are having no effect.”
Lucian’s smirk grew larger giving his face a devious appearance. “Oh?” he spoke, “But I think they ARE having an effect.” As if to prove his point he slashed Dewach’s forehead straight across the brow causing the beast to flinch backwards with a grunt of pain.
Lucian laughed cruelly as he danced away.
With a cry of outrage at the slight, pushed too far by the constant unreturned attacks, Dewach began to swing his enormous weapon in a large circular motion. Faster and faster he swung. His lumbering steps drawing closer to Lucian. The roar of the circling weapon as it rushed through the air was drowned out by its owner’s inhuman cry.
As the blade drew near Lucian leapt high and flattened out his body allowing the weapon to pass uncomfortably close beneath him. His eyes were grim as his own blade swung in the opposite direction cutting into and through the arms of his large foe severing them near their elbows.
With a yowl and look of shock Dewach staggered as his weapon, now free of its anchoring point, sailed across the arena to lodge itself blade first in the wall. One arm still grasp the handle though it hung limply from its perch.
Lucian landed in a crouch in front of Dewach and slashed again open a large rift in the creature’s belly. As intestine and bile spilled out Dewach hunched over, perhaps to try and hold in the contents of his body but his arms were no longer up to the task.
With a turn and one last cut Lucian severed the head of his enemy and caught it by the hair. He held it aloft for a moment, watching the eyes watch him as the jaw soundlessly worked, before tossing it into the now open stomach cavity of the creature.
Again tendrils of blood and sinew snaked from each part trying to close the horrible injuries. Without being in proper place the body fought against itself. The neck portion trying to seal the torso. The torso trying to close around the head. The whole while the eyes of Dewach stared at Lucian with hatred. After a time the torso began to close while inside the gaping wound the horror show of knitting and sliding intestines tried to make sense of itself.
A single cheer came from above but was quickly silent.
“Wizard!” shouted Lucian as he slowly looked up to meet his tormentor’s eyes. “I think it’s time we danced!”
With that he broke into a sprint.
Lucian watched the wound heal almost instantly, the blood drawing into the wound until no trace remained.
Dewach swung his huge poleaxe in a wide arc but the weapon was easily avoided. As it passed Lucian darted forward again striking twice just above the eyes.
After each pass Lucian struck and cut. Each wound brought a grunt of pain and closed quickly.
“You’re slow and your weapon is slower.” Lucian taunted. “You can’t change direction, feint, parry or block effectively once you’ve swung, and your attacks lack flexibility. In short...you’re a terrible opponent.”
As if to prove his point he pressed the attack. Feinting for his large foe’s stomach he then switched angles and again slashed the beast’s brow.
Again and again he struck. Each time changing how the attack started or the angle it came from. Each time cutting deeply into the face of his opponent. Each time the wounds quickly healed.
Lucian noted that the blood did not always flow into the wound it came from. It simply seemed to seek to return. To be whole again.
“Luciaaan..” came a bored cry from the upper tier of the arena. “You are boring me. You’ve tried the same attacks many times. Mix things up.”
The wizard’s raised eyebrow and frown should his lack of enthusiasm as he spoke, “Entertain me in your last moments. You can obviously see your attacks are having no effect.”
Lucian’s smirk grew larger giving his face a devious appearance. “Oh?” he spoke, “But I think they ARE having an effect.” As if to prove his point he slashed Dewach’s forehead straight across the brow causing the beast to flinch backwards with a grunt of pain.
Lucian laughed cruelly as he danced away.
With a cry of outrage at the slight, pushed too far by the constant unreturned attacks, Dewach began to swing his enormous weapon in a large circular motion. Faster and faster he swung. His lumbering steps drawing closer to Lucian. The roar of the circling weapon as it rushed through the air was drowned out by its owner’s inhuman cry.
As the blade drew near Lucian leapt high and flattened out his body allowing the weapon to pass uncomfortably close beneath him. His eyes were grim as his own blade swung in the opposite direction cutting into and through the arms of his large foe severing them near their elbows.
With a yowl and look of shock Dewach staggered as his weapon, now free of its anchoring point, sailed across the arena to lodge itself blade first in the wall. One arm still grasp the handle though it hung limply from its perch.
Lucian landed in a crouch in front of Dewach and slashed again open a large rift in the creature’s belly. As intestine and bile spilled out Dewach hunched over, perhaps to try and hold in the contents of his body but his arms were no longer up to the task.
With a turn and one last cut Lucian severed the head of his enemy and caught it by the hair. He held it aloft for a moment, watching the eyes watch him as the jaw soundlessly worked, before tossing it into the now open stomach cavity of the creature.
Again tendrils of blood and sinew snaked from each part trying to close the horrible injuries. Without being in proper place the body fought against itself. The neck portion trying to seal the torso. The torso trying to close around the head. The whole while the eyes of Dewach stared at Lucian with hatred. After a time the torso began to close while inside the gaping wound the horror show of knitting and sliding intestines tried to make sense of itself.
A single cheer came from above but was quickly silent.
“Wizard!” shouted Lucian as he slowly looked up to meet his tormentor’s eyes. “I think it’s time we danced!”
With that he broke into a sprint.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Chemistry
This isn't actual chemistry like you would learn about in high school. This is my rambling thoughts on chemistry of a personal nature. Between two people.
I personally believe in chemistry. It's something that effects me in huge ways so I can't not be a believer. While there may be a woman who is undeniably attractive if I don't feel chemistry with her...that..spark...that connection...*shug*
But when there is chemistry? *>WHAM<* Chemistry is my favorite word for it because...of the way the other person effects me. Their smell...their taste...their skin on mine...their breath...all cause an excitement in me...that becomes so basic...so deeply effecting to me on my smallest levels that I can't not be attracted to them.
It's rare for me to feel this way towards someone...but sadly it happens.
I have a friend who was told, by a boy she was head over heels for, that he didn't like the way she smelled. Not her perfume. Not her deodorant. But her base scent. This is also chemistry. He chemically didn't mesh with her. Like acid to base.
To me she smells like rain in a fall forest, almond blossoms, and sunshine. Her skin is sweetness and salt. My brain can not even grasp how anyone...ever..could not want to bury their face in her hair...nuzzle at her neck softly kissing and tasting the skin there.
I can only imagine he smells like rotted pickles, mold, and disappointment.
Chemistry, for me, filters everything else. If I just indulge my senses I become very primal. Animalistic thoughts, wants, and desires boil forth washing over my rational mind. I tend to keep myself in check. When in situations where this could be an issue, like say...always, I reign myself in. I move away from the person I most want to be next to. I look anywhere but at them.
When two people click chemically and can actually act on those feelings. SHAZAM!!
If you can find someone who does this for you let them know. Worst case...you creep them out and they stop talking to you...your circle of friends gets skewed because they avoid you but you all want to hang out together and when you all meet up things are awkward and you end up splitting friends up and no one will go bowling with you.
But the chances of that happening are rare and the payoff is worth that risk.
I personally believe in chemistry. It's something that effects me in huge ways so I can't not be a believer. While there may be a woman who is undeniably attractive if I don't feel chemistry with her...that..spark...that connection...*shug*
But when there is chemistry? *>WHAM<* Chemistry is my favorite word for it because...of the way the other person effects me. Their smell...their taste...their skin on mine...their breath...all cause an excitement in me...that becomes so basic...so deeply effecting to me on my smallest levels that I can't not be attracted to them.
It's rare for me to feel this way towards someone...but sadly it happens.
I have a friend who was told, by a boy she was head over heels for, that he didn't like the way she smelled. Not her perfume. Not her deodorant. But her base scent. This is also chemistry. He chemically didn't mesh with her. Like acid to base.
To me she smells like rain in a fall forest, almond blossoms, and sunshine. Her skin is sweetness and salt. My brain can not even grasp how anyone...ever..could not want to bury their face in her hair...nuzzle at her neck softly kissing and tasting the skin there.
I can only imagine he smells like rotted pickles, mold, and disappointment.
Chemistry, for me, filters everything else. If I just indulge my senses I become very primal. Animalistic thoughts, wants, and desires boil forth washing over my rational mind. I tend to keep myself in check. When in situations where this could be an issue, like say...always, I reign myself in. I move away from the person I most want to be next to. I look anywhere but at them.
When two people click chemically and can actually act on those feelings. SHAZAM!!
If you can find someone who does this for you let them know. Worst case...you creep them out and they stop talking to you...your circle of friends gets skewed because they avoid you but you all want to hang out together and when you all meet up things are awkward and you end up splitting friends up and no one will go bowling with you.
But the chances of that happening are rare and the payoff is worth that risk.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Hunted Part: 9
Dewach stalked forward gathering his enormous poleaxe as he did so. He hefted the weapon onto to his massive shoulder, the haft bending slightly under the tremendous weight of the blade. He walked slowly but his large stride covered the slight distance to his prey quickly.
Lucian continued to smile coldly. No mirth touched the eyes that locked onto his foes. He began to press and pack the soil beneath his feet slightly, while hunching slightly and bringing his hands upwards as if to wrestle the behemoth before him.
Dewach chuckled deeply at the sight. Sometimes he played with his prey but not today. Something in the manner of movements of his enemy told him to finish this quickly. Play with what's left but after it was dead.
They stood there a moment. Staring. In large battles or once fighting had started hesitation would kill you but one on one...fighting an unknown foe...patience was your ally. Sometimes it all came down to who blinked first.
Lucian let the smile fade from his face though a contemptuous curl of his lip remained. Slowly he let his eyes close, almost as if he was unaware or uncaring of the horror that stood before him.
Dewach wasted no time in taking advantage of his foes foolishness. With a deep throated growl he swung the huge weapon in his hands forward. The speed was so great the handle bent further under the strain, the massive blade at the end racing to catch up. There was a distinctive roar of wind as it sliced through the air travelling at a blur.
Lucian dropped down and dove forward tucking his shoulder into the turf and rolling as he hit. He let his roll carry him back to his feet bringing him to the immediate side of the brute. Once there he spun on his toes and dove away again to the immediate left of his enemy.
Dewach's huge weapon slammed into the earth once again missing his target. Without wasting a time Dewach swung around to catch his foe across the back as he finished his second roll.
Greenish blood splashed heavily along Lucian's back. Dewach stared at the image confused that it wasn't his weapon crushing through this tiny fool. Looking back to where he had initially struck he saw his weapon still there...both of his hands also remained still griping the handle fiercely.
Glancing downwards his gaze feel upon the stumps at the ends of his arms...cleanly cut...blood pumping outwards with each squeeze of his large heart.
Lucian turned slowly to face his foe his eyes now opening just as slowly as they had closed. "Thank you for the return of my blade creature. It is one of my most precious possessions." Gripped lightly in an underhand position the curved blade of his sword Bushido glistened with blood of his foe.
"Now if you would allow me to collect my scabbard...I'll let you live....or kill you quickly. Whichever you choose." A smile curled from his lips slyly.
Dewach looked at him a moment longer. Then he began to laugh. Slowly and deep came his laughter like the thunder promising a storm.
He reached his bleeding stumps towards his hands and the blood pumping outwards seemed to leap at the severed hands. First splashing the handle and then leaping almost into the hands themselves. The closer the wounds came to each other the more it seemed as if fluid...or tendrils were reaching towards each other. The wrists connected to the severed hands the bleeding seemed to stop. Then...slowly at first but then faster...the blood seemed to seep back into the flesh.
Dewach pulled his hands free from his weapon and flexed and unflexed his fingers, knuckles cracking. Still laughing darkly he once again grasped the handle of the poleaxe and pulled it from the ground. Turning to fully face his foe Dewach continued to chuckle.
Lucian looked from his enemies face, to the now feeling healed hands, and back to his face. He left forth a deep sigh. "Well if it's going to be THAT kind of fight let me give you a couple of pointers on your fighting style." And with that he leapt at the beast sword raised high.
Lucian continued to smile coldly. No mirth touched the eyes that locked onto his foes. He began to press and pack the soil beneath his feet slightly, while hunching slightly and bringing his hands upwards as if to wrestle the behemoth before him.
Dewach chuckled deeply at the sight. Sometimes he played with his prey but not today. Something in the manner of movements of his enemy told him to finish this quickly. Play with what's left but after it was dead.
They stood there a moment. Staring. In large battles or once fighting had started hesitation would kill you but one on one...fighting an unknown foe...patience was your ally. Sometimes it all came down to who blinked first.
Lucian let the smile fade from his face though a contemptuous curl of his lip remained. Slowly he let his eyes close, almost as if he was unaware or uncaring of the horror that stood before him.
Dewach wasted no time in taking advantage of his foes foolishness. With a deep throated growl he swung the huge weapon in his hands forward. The speed was so great the handle bent further under the strain, the massive blade at the end racing to catch up. There was a distinctive roar of wind as it sliced through the air travelling at a blur.
Lucian dropped down and dove forward tucking his shoulder into the turf and rolling as he hit. He let his roll carry him back to his feet bringing him to the immediate side of the brute. Once there he spun on his toes and dove away again to the immediate left of his enemy.
Dewach's huge weapon slammed into the earth once again missing his target. Without wasting a time Dewach swung around to catch his foe across the back as he finished his second roll.
Greenish blood splashed heavily along Lucian's back. Dewach stared at the image confused that it wasn't his weapon crushing through this tiny fool. Looking back to where he had initially struck he saw his weapon still there...both of his hands also remained still griping the handle fiercely.
Glancing downwards his gaze feel upon the stumps at the ends of his arms...cleanly cut...blood pumping outwards with each squeeze of his large heart.
Lucian turned slowly to face his foe his eyes now opening just as slowly as they had closed. "Thank you for the return of my blade creature. It is one of my most precious possessions." Gripped lightly in an underhand position the curved blade of his sword Bushido glistened with blood of his foe.
"Now if you would allow me to collect my scabbard...I'll let you live....or kill you quickly. Whichever you choose." A smile curled from his lips slyly.
Dewach looked at him a moment longer. Then he began to laugh. Slowly and deep came his laughter like the thunder promising a storm.
He reached his bleeding stumps towards his hands and the blood pumping outwards seemed to leap at the severed hands. First splashing the handle and then leaping almost into the hands themselves. The closer the wounds came to each other the more it seemed as if fluid...or tendrils were reaching towards each other. The wrists connected to the severed hands the bleeding seemed to stop. Then...slowly at first but then faster...the blood seemed to seep back into the flesh.
Dewach pulled his hands free from his weapon and flexed and unflexed his fingers, knuckles cracking. Still laughing darkly he once again grasped the handle of the poleaxe and pulled it from the ground. Turning to fully face his foe Dewach continued to chuckle.
Lucian looked from his enemies face, to the now feeling healed hands, and back to his face. He left forth a deep sigh. "Well if it's going to be THAT kind of fight let me give you a couple of pointers on your fighting style." And with that he leapt at the beast sword raised high.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Caged 5/2010
In my own mind. Pacing. Trapped behind bars of distraction and uncertainty. Fed scraps of affection and attention. Keep me lean. Keep me hungry. Always here for you.
Caged.
Caged.
Hunted Part: 8 4/2008
As he stood stone still Lucian's mind raced.
Unable to move his body, his mind jumped from thought to thought. He knew the wizard wouldn't simply let the beast kill him outright. But that didn't mean he wouldn't let Dewach do plenty of damage before intervening. Should he use his new abilities or save them as a trump card? Should he trust his instincts and let the creature come?
As Dewach roared forward he swung the hefty poleaxe around his head again and again.
Lucian could hear the deep rush of air as the weapon slashed its huge circular path over the beast's head. He stared at the creature thundering towards him certain the wizard wanted further entertainment than a simple execution.
He was certain of it. The creature swung the massive weapon back in a lower arc.
He was certain...
Dewach was close enough to connect and he roared furiously as he brought the blade from behind him straight down at Lucian's skull.
...certain...
Lucian didn't even blink as the blade screamed towards his face.
There was silence.
Lucian thought for a moment that the weapon had connected. That his brain had simply...stopped in its final moment. He then realized that by thinking that...then in fact he was still living.
Suddenly there seemed a rush of sounds. A distinct gasp Devlin. His own breathing. The roar of frustration as Dewach realized that he was no longer able to move....
And then...the annoyingly light laughter of the wizard filled the arena.
"Ah Lucian," giggled the wrinkled man "The look in your eyes!! How I will cherish that after you are dead."
"I'm sure you've been wondering about the markings I've placed upon your flesh. Hmm? It's a new type of necromancy I've discovered and adapted to use with the living. Yes! Amazing I know."
"The markings allow one to control certain areas. I've had most of your body covered and you see how effective that is hmm? Now can you imagine if your very bones were etched with those symbols?"
As if in response to the question Dewach moaned loudly. His weapon rose slowly though he obviously did not want this. He large legs moved back awkwardly step by thundering step.
"Now Dewach is in my complete control. Right down to his very bones." The wizard twisted his hand slightly and Lucian watched in horror as the large creature's forearm began to bend unnaturally. Dewach moaned in pain but could do nothing to prevent it.
"But that isn't what makes him so special. Oh no! He..." The wizard paused and slowly a dark smile peeled across his face. "...well why don't you just find out for yourself, eh?"
With that the wizard waved his hands. The ink covering Lucian began to crawl and melt down his naked body. It didn't leave a smudge or stain on him but instead trickled across his pale flesh like black mercury.
As it reached the dark soil at his feet it simply faded, either into the soil or away he could not tell.
It was at this moment Lucian became aware of his freedom. He was suddenly aware that the muscles he had been straining to back away...were able to now do so and he staggered backwards awkwardly as if his limbs were asleep.
"Now Lucian," came the wizard's voice " let us see how well you do in your current position against my newest play thing." With that he waved his other hand.
Dewach, now free of restraint slammed his blade forward into the ground sending dark soil flying explosively.
Lucian took a step back.
Dewach took a step forward. His mouth spread in a hideous sharp toothed grin.
Lucian stood there naked and unarmed.
His mouth spread in a cynical smirk.
Unable to move his body, his mind jumped from thought to thought. He knew the wizard wouldn't simply let the beast kill him outright. But that didn't mean he wouldn't let Dewach do plenty of damage before intervening. Should he use his new abilities or save them as a trump card? Should he trust his instincts and let the creature come?
As Dewach roared forward he swung the hefty poleaxe around his head again and again.
Lucian could hear the deep rush of air as the weapon slashed its huge circular path over the beast's head. He stared at the creature thundering towards him certain the wizard wanted further entertainment than a simple execution.
He was certain of it. The creature swung the massive weapon back in a lower arc.
He was certain...
Dewach was close enough to connect and he roared furiously as he brought the blade from behind him straight down at Lucian's skull.
...certain...
Lucian didn't even blink as the blade screamed towards his face.
There was silence.
Lucian thought for a moment that the weapon had connected. That his brain had simply...stopped in its final moment. He then realized that by thinking that...then in fact he was still living.
Suddenly there seemed a rush of sounds. A distinct gasp Devlin. His own breathing. The roar of frustration as Dewach realized that he was no longer able to move....
And then...the annoyingly light laughter of the wizard filled the arena.
"Ah Lucian," giggled the wrinkled man "The look in your eyes!! How I will cherish that after you are dead."
"I'm sure you've been wondering about the markings I've placed upon your flesh. Hmm? It's a new type of necromancy I've discovered and adapted to use with the living. Yes! Amazing I know."
"The markings allow one to control certain areas. I've had most of your body covered and you see how effective that is hmm? Now can you imagine if your very bones were etched with those symbols?"
As if in response to the question Dewach moaned loudly. His weapon rose slowly though he obviously did not want this. He large legs moved back awkwardly step by thundering step.
"Now Dewach is in my complete control. Right down to his very bones." The wizard twisted his hand slightly and Lucian watched in horror as the large creature's forearm began to bend unnaturally. Dewach moaned in pain but could do nothing to prevent it.
"But that isn't what makes him so special. Oh no! He..." The wizard paused and slowly a dark smile peeled across his face. "...well why don't you just find out for yourself, eh?"
With that the wizard waved his hands. The ink covering Lucian began to crawl and melt down his naked body. It didn't leave a smudge or stain on him but instead trickled across his pale flesh like black mercury.
As it reached the dark soil at his feet it simply faded, either into the soil or away he could not tell.
It was at this moment Lucian became aware of his freedom. He was suddenly aware that the muscles he had been straining to back away...were able to now do so and he staggered backwards awkwardly as if his limbs were asleep.
"Now Lucian," came the wizard's voice " let us see how well you do in your current position against my newest play thing." With that he waved his other hand.
Dewach, now free of restraint slammed his blade forward into the ground sending dark soil flying explosively.
Lucian took a step back.
Dewach took a step forward. His mouth spread in a hideous sharp toothed grin.
Lucian stood there naked and unarmed.
His mouth spread in a cynical smirk.
Hunted Part:7 3/2008
As the guards carried him down the long dark corridors his mind worked feverishly. It was obvious the dark symbols were something he had taught her. The style had his look to it...the soft curves even appeared sharp as they swirled and spread across his skin. But how did they work?
He didn't bother to try and figure out where he was being taken, he was already fairly certain he knew.
Suddenly his movement stopped and a loud *THUDTHUD* was heard from the guard at the front. The dark hall was flooded with light as they continued through a doorway.
The arena they entered was sometimes called the black pool. The soft dark earth beneath their feet was often so soaked in blood that it could only be called black making it appear as a giant ink filled pool.
As the guards placed him on the soil, no matter what position they left a limb in it stayed as if frozen though each part moved freely when they touched him.
He couldn't see much as his head was left facing down but he didn't need to see to know this place. He had spent the first 20 years of his life in this ring. Honing his skills. Killing as he was told. No spot of the field had not been kissed by the spray of his enemies blood. The ring was oval 30 yards wide and 50 yards long with the corners severely rounded to prevent anyone from using the corners to climb out to what they thought might be safety.
The walls themselves were 15 feet high and there were four archers always waiting for the signal to take anyone foolish enough to try for the climb.
As he lay in a crumpled heap he could hear footsteps. Closing his eyes he pictured eight disks out from his awareness. Listening closely he placed the sound in one of the disks. Knowing where he was he could now at least tell where the sound was moving to.
Suddenly unseen hands jerked him to his feet onto his toes. His head jerked around to try and locate who was doing this but there was no one...at least no one near him.
"Ah! Lucian I see your surprise at my new little trick. Do you approve?"
The voice of his tormentor called out to him from a raised chair at one end of the wall.
Lucian's eyes burned at the wizard. Lucian willed his eyes to be daggers, arrows, dragons to fly and kill the wizard but....nothing.
Lucian watched the man flick his finger...a simple gesture but with it came understanding. Gut wrenching understanding. As the finger moved so did Lucian's arm. And so it was clear. He had come all this way to simple become this bastard's puppet once again.
Another large door suddenly boomed open and Lucian watched a large manlike creature squeeze through its archway. One would have called it an Ogre but it had a certain something about it that simply spook of a more cunning evil. Dragging behind it was a poleaxe, large even for this creature. It wore no shirt nor shoes but simply wrapped its waist with some sort of hide. Chains were attached in various places and from them dangled the skulls of various races...of various ages. And tucked into the creature's chains, like a simple dagger, was Lucian's own blade. Even across the arena he could feel/hear it call to him.
"Lucian, I'd like you to meet my newest project. His name is Dewach. He's by no means as graceful or precise as you were but he has his own talent and charm. I admit he seems a step down but once you left what was one supposed to do, Hmm?"
At the sound of his name Dewach beat his chest and yelled as he swung the poleaxe about. In order to do so he had to get his weight under it and power it into motion. Once there it was simple to keep it going....and woe to that which tried to stop it.
"Now Lucian are you ready for some long awaited fun? I'm sure you are."
The wizard's smile was cold and unfeeling as he spoke. He slowly moved his fingers down and Lucian could do nothing but watch as they slowly forced his arms to his sides.
Dewach roared and begin thumping his feet forward while swinging the poleaxe round and round.
This was not the fun Lucian had been hoping for at all.
He didn't bother to try and figure out where he was being taken, he was already fairly certain he knew.
Suddenly his movement stopped and a loud *THUDTHUD* was heard from the guard at the front. The dark hall was flooded with light as they continued through a doorway.
The arena they entered was sometimes called the black pool. The soft dark earth beneath their feet was often so soaked in blood that it could only be called black making it appear as a giant ink filled pool.
As the guards placed him on the soil, no matter what position they left a limb in it stayed as if frozen though each part moved freely when they touched him.
He couldn't see much as his head was left facing down but he didn't need to see to know this place. He had spent the first 20 years of his life in this ring. Honing his skills. Killing as he was told. No spot of the field had not been kissed by the spray of his enemies blood. The ring was oval 30 yards wide and 50 yards long with the corners severely rounded to prevent anyone from using the corners to climb out to what they thought might be safety.
The walls themselves were 15 feet high and there were four archers always waiting for the signal to take anyone foolish enough to try for the climb.
As he lay in a crumpled heap he could hear footsteps. Closing his eyes he pictured eight disks out from his awareness. Listening closely he placed the sound in one of the disks. Knowing where he was he could now at least tell where the sound was moving to.
Suddenly unseen hands jerked him to his feet onto his toes. His head jerked around to try and locate who was doing this but there was no one...at least no one near him.
"Ah! Lucian I see your surprise at my new little trick. Do you approve?"
The voice of his tormentor called out to him from a raised chair at one end of the wall.
Lucian's eyes burned at the wizard. Lucian willed his eyes to be daggers, arrows, dragons to fly and kill the wizard but....nothing.
Lucian watched the man flick his finger...a simple gesture but with it came understanding. Gut wrenching understanding. As the finger moved so did Lucian's arm. And so it was clear. He had come all this way to simple become this bastard's puppet once again.
Another large door suddenly boomed open and Lucian watched a large manlike creature squeeze through its archway. One would have called it an Ogre but it had a certain something about it that simply spook of a more cunning evil. Dragging behind it was a poleaxe, large even for this creature. It wore no shirt nor shoes but simply wrapped its waist with some sort of hide. Chains were attached in various places and from them dangled the skulls of various races...of various ages. And tucked into the creature's chains, like a simple dagger, was Lucian's own blade. Even across the arena he could feel/hear it call to him.
"Lucian, I'd like you to meet my newest project. His name is Dewach. He's by no means as graceful or precise as you were but he has his own talent and charm. I admit he seems a step down but once you left what was one supposed to do, Hmm?"
At the sound of his name Dewach beat his chest and yelled as he swung the poleaxe about. In order to do so he had to get his weight under it and power it into motion. Once there it was simple to keep it going....and woe to that which tried to stop it.
"Now Lucian are you ready for some long awaited fun? I'm sure you are."
The wizard's smile was cold and unfeeling as he spoke. He slowly moved his fingers down and Lucian could do nothing but watch as they slowly forced his arms to his sides.
Dewach roared and begin thumping his feet forward while swinging the poleaxe round and round.
This was not the fun Lucian had been hoping for at all.
Hunted Part: 6 2/2006
As she crawled up his body, pressing hers close to his, her mouth left soft kisses from point to point. Parts of him twitched at each touch of her lips despite his attempts to control himself.
"Why did you leave me here when you left?" Her voice sounded light and carefree as if she were asking for something to be passed across a dinner table but at its core was the cold hard edge that only a woman's voice can hold. Like a razor hidden amongst rose petals...
Almost his entire body remained in complete control as he felt himself tighten around her words. As he focused on what she said parts of him began to lose interest in the conversation.
She moved her hands to his groin and began softly kneading him while she brushed her cheek against him moving her mouth just beyond reach.
"I can't explain. I doubt you would understand or even believe me anyways." his voice was soft but carried a hard smooth coldness that only a man's voice can hold. Like words carved in marble...
"You can't explain?" Devlin's voice rose slightly, "You left me hear with him...alone...no rhyme or reason and you can't explain?!" Her hand squeezed tighter around him and he grunted.
"It was for your own good. I did it for you." he said knowing full well where the conversation was heading but unable...or unwilling to turn it aside. Despite his attempts at silence a part of him that had been aching to explain was freed somehow and it would not be denied.
"For me?!" again her voice rose in both pitch and volume. "You left me here and without you he focused on me. On ME!" her nails dug slightly into the soft flesh of him but he made no sound. "You were free to run around the world while I spent day after day and night after night under him. And yes I mean "under him". Without you his anger and pleasure became the same and they all fell on me. But what did you care? You were free. It's always been about you hasn't it?"
His eyes grey distant and cold as if he were thinking to times gone by. And while it was soft his voice clearly cut through the room. "If I had stayed here...if I had not left when I did...he would have used you against me. Used you to get to me. Used you as a way to break me. And whatever you went through while I was gone...it would have been worse had I stayed. And at the very least you are still alive." his eyes focused on hers sharply, "But like I said...you wouldn't understand or even believe me. So what do you want from me Devlin? Huh? What do you want?"
Her grip relaxed on his groin and tears threatened her eyes like dark clouds with rain. "What do I want? What I've always wanted. I want you to call out my name with feeling...with passion. I want to know that you feel for me...care for me...like I've cared for you."
Somehow something large had become stuck in his throat but painfully he spoke around this...
"I can't. I can't let him use that...use you against me. I'm...I'm sorry Dev."
"I'm sorry too." her voice almost a whisper. She stood her fingers the last thing to leave off from his skin as she stood by the bed. She turned away from him and wrapped a large piece of silk cloth about her body. That done she looked over at him and for a moment...her eyes looked as if the storm might break. But she turned and pulled a large knotted cord that hung from the ceiling.
A moment later her door opened and two large armored brutes stepped inside. Each grabbed an arm and a leg and he easily came away from the bed. They held him like a trussed up deer and waited for a moment.
"I'm sorry this had to go this way Lucian." she said not turning around, "I guess getting what we want isn't in our cards."
"I've learned something Dev. No one ever gives you what you want...you always have to take it." with that the guards dragged him from the room the heavy door closing loudly behind them.
"You always did say the dumbest cliches." with a sniff she lit a candle and began to dress for what was to come.
"Why did you leave me here when you left?" Her voice sounded light and carefree as if she were asking for something to be passed across a dinner table but at its core was the cold hard edge that only a woman's voice can hold. Like a razor hidden amongst rose petals...
Almost his entire body remained in complete control as he felt himself tighten around her words. As he focused on what she said parts of him began to lose interest in the conversation.
She moved her hands to his groin and began softly kneading him while she brushed her cheek against him moving her mouth just beyond reach.
"I can't explain. I doubt you would understand or even believe me anyways." his voice was soft but carried a hard smooth coldness that only a man's voice can hold. Like words carved in marble...
"You can't explain?" Devlin's voice rose slightly, "You left me hear with him...alone...no rhyme or reason and you can't explain?!" Her hand squeezed tighter around him and he grunted.
"It was for your own good. I did it for you." he said knowing full well where the conversation was heading but unable...or unwilling to turn it aside. Despite his attempts at silence a part of him that had been aching to explain was freed somehow and it would not be denied.
"For me?!" again her voice rose in both pitch and volume. "You left me here and without you he focused on me. On ME!" her nails dug slightly into the soft flesh of him but he made no sound. "You were free to run around the world while I spent day after day and night after night under him. And yes I mean "under him". Without you his anger and pleasure became the same and they all fell on me. But what did you care? You were free. It's always been about you hasn't it?"
His eyes grey distant and cold as if he were thinking to times gone by. And while it was soft his voice clearly cut through the room. "If I had stayed here...if I had not left when I did...he would have used you against me. Used you to get to me. Used you as a way to break me. And whatever you went through while I was gone...it would have been worse had I stayed. And at the very least you are still alive." his eyes focused on hers sharply, "But like I said...you wouldn't understand or even believe me. So what do you want from me Devlin? Huh? What do you want?"
Her grip relaxed on his groin and tears threatened her eyes like dark clouds with rain. "What do I want? What I've always wanted. I want you to call out my name with feeling...with passion. I want to know that you feel for me...care for me...like I've cared for you."
Somehow something large had become stuck in his throat but painfully he spoke around this...
"I can't. I can't let him use that...use you against me. I'm...I'm sorry Dev."
"I'm sorry too." her voice almost a whisper. She stood her fingers the last thing to leave off from his skin as she stood by the bed. She turned away from him and wrapped a large piece of silk cloth about her body. That done she looked over at him and for a moment...her eyes looked as if the storm might break. But she turned and pulled a large knotted cord that hung from the ceiling.
A moment later her door opened and two large armored brutes stepped inside. Each grabbed an arm and a leg and he easily came away from the bed. They held him like a trussed up deer and waited for a moment.
"I'm sorry this had to go this way Lucian." she said not turning around, "I guess getting what we want isn't in our cards."
"I've learned something Dev. No one ever gives you what you want...you always have to take it." with that the guards dragged him from the room the heavy door closing loudly behind them.
"You always did say the dumbest cliches." with a sniff she lit a candle and began to dress for what was to come.
Hunted Part: 5 11/2005
He could feel a soft cool breeze blowing across his bare skin as he lay upon...what felt to be grass. It smelt like grass with deep rich soil beneath it. Faintly flowers could be detected but nothing else.
His skin also felt the brush of burning heat which only came from the sun. Through his closed eyes he could see the red of his blood as the light hit him full on.
Putting his hand between the source of light and his eyes he slowly opened them. Everything had a blue tint, an effect caused by his eyes adjusting to the red while closed.
He was on a hillside. As far as his eyes could see green grass with softly colored flowers spilled over hill after hill.
He felt calm and his wounds were no longer visible. No other person could be seen or heard anywhere. He felt calm and at ease without a care in the world. Which could mean only one thing...
"This isn't real."
As soon as the words left his lips the world around him fled being replaced by a darker place with walls. It took a moment for his eyes to re-adjust to the lack of light.
"You couldn't just accept the illusion while you healed could you? You never were a very good patient." a familiar female voice spoke.
"Well you know Devlin" his head turning to where he felt her even though he could not see her yet, "if you didn't make them so perfect...too perfect..I might be willing to fall for them." He smiled knowing she was smirking back.
He reached his hand up to brush some stray hair from his face and he felt his arm stop dead. No chain, rope or strap held his arm. He forced his eyes to adjust quickly the surface of them swimming for a moment. Looking at his wrist with his newer eyes he could see dark symbols painted into his flesh. They seemed to stand out above his skin and yet were very clearly on it. As his wrists strained to move the symbols pulsed and flexed.
"It's for your own protection Lucian. I didn't want you to hurt yourself thrashing around." she finished wiping something from her hands with a rag her back to him.
"I wasn't aware that I was thrashing while you healed me." Lucian said his voice cold and calm...testing.
She turned around a sly smile forming across her face. Look upwards at him her eyes met his and a predatory light danced between them both.
"You weren't. I meant now that you're healed and awake."
Her hand went to some lacing at her throat pulling it free. As she slowly stepped forward her gown slipped from her shoulders to the floor leaving her body bare.
"I see. My mistake then," he chuckled and settled back against the bed. His voice sounded light and playful but deep inside he tensed waiting for trap to be sprung.
His skin also felt the brush of burning heat which only came from the sun. Through his closed eyes he could see the red of his blood as the light hit him full on.
Putting his hand between the source of light and his eyes he slowly opened them. Everything had a blue tint, an effect caused by his eyes adjusting to the red while closed.
He was on a hillside. As far as his eyes could see green grass with softly colored flowers spilled over hill after hill.
He felt calm and his wounds were no longer visible. No other person could be seen or heard anywhere. He felt calm and at ease without a care in the world. Which could mean only one thing...
"This isn't real."
As soon as the words left his lips the world around him fled being replaced by a darker place with walls. It took a moment for his eyes to re-adjust to the lack of light.
"You couldn't just accept the illusion while you healed could you? You never were a very good patient." a familiar female voice spoke.
"Well you know Devlin" his head turning to where he felt her even though he could not see her yet, "if you didn't make them so perfect...too perfect..I might be willing to fall for them." He smiled knowing she was smirking back.
He reached his hand up to brush some stray hair from his face and he felt his arm stop dead. No chain, rope or strap held his arm. He forced his eyes to adjust quickly the surface of them swimming for a moment. Looking at his wrist with his newer eyes he could see dark symbols painted into his flesh. They seemed to stand out above his skin and yet were very clearly on it. As his wrists strained to move the symbols pulsed and flexed.
"It's for your own protection Lucian. I didn't want you to hurt yourself thrashing around." she finished wiping something from her hands with a rag her back to him.
"I wasn't aware that I was thrashing while you healed me." Lucian said his voice cold and calm...testing.
She turned around a sly smile forming across her face. Look upwards at him her eyes met his and a predatory light danced between them both.
"You weren't. I meant now that you're healed and awake."
Her hand went to some lacing at her throat pulling it free. As she slowly stepped forward her gown slipped from her shoulders to the floor leaving her body bare.
"I see. My mistake then," he chuckled and settled back against the bed. His voice sounded light and playful but deep inside he tensed waiting for trap to be sprung.
Hunted Part: 4 10/2005
Padding along the cold wet stone floor Lucian moved from shadow to shadow as a ghost. He had been here before and knew his way well but details had changed and movement often caused his heart to stop as suddenly as his body.
Ahead he saw the stairwell leading upwards towards his goal.
Torches set in sconces lit the area in front of the stairs but flooded the stairwell with inky darkness. Making sure no prying eyes were about he sprinted the short distance towards the steps. At the last instant he noticed something moving towards his head. Moving too quickly he couldn't stop nor drop to avoid the blow so he raised his arm defensively.
Flinching his head away he saw sparks as a heavy blow landed against his arm and glanced off of his skull. He felt a sharp awkward pain in his forearm and heard an audible snap from a bone breaking as he fell to the side. Rolling as best he could he still managed to flop like a rag doll onto his side.
He lay there a moment trying to be aware of the world around him as lights danced before his eyes. He was aware that his attacker was stepping from the shadows and prepared himself for a fight.
"Lucian?" a female voice spoke with surprise. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" the voice belonged to a somewhat curvy lady wielding an impressive and very hard staff. She wore simple clothing consisting of pants and a large billowy shirt. Her bare feet showed her toes as they scrunched and wiggled in anger or excitement.
"What's wrong with me? I'm pretty sure you broke my arm." Lucian retorted. He remembered her now...but wasn't entirely sure due to the dancing sparks and ringing in his head.
"Hmm. Well I WAS trying to kill you so I suppose things could have turned out worse for you." the lady leaned on her staff and shook her head in disapproval. She seemed honestly disappointed in her failure to kill him.
"It's nice to see your taste in clothing hasn't changed much. But let me see if I can't do something about that arm so you don't cry." She reached her hand out while stepping forward.
"That's alright. I can tend to it myself. I've picked up a few things since my last visit." Lucian retorted.
As he cradled his wounded arm he closed his eyes and began to speak softly. Soon it seemed as if his arm were becoming hidden in a shadow that grew deeper and darker until at last his entire arm was hidden in a black inky cloud. As his words finished he shuddered and with a soft *whoosh* the cloud of darkness flew apart leaving his arm whole and healed.
The lady whistled a longish low note of appreciation. "Wow. Dark healing magic huh? I guess you did learn a thing or two." she leaned on her staff and stared at him. "Yer not very good at it if you can't even care for all those cuts on your chest and stuff. How's about we get those taken care of...and maybe find you some pants or something? Lunch is soon and I want to keep my appetite."
Lucian smiled at her playful jibes and pulled himself up to stand. "You know what Devlin? It's good to see you again....and I might just take you up on those offers."
With that he swayed over towards her, the room spinning. His last thought before watching the hard stone floor rush at him was that perhaps his head had been struck harder than he first thought.
Ahead he saw the stairwell leading upwards towards his goal.
Torches set in sconces lit the area in front of the stairs but flooded the stairwell with inky darkness. Making sure no prying eyes were about he sprinted the short distance towards the steps. At the last instant he noticed something moving towards his head. Moving too quickly he couldn't stop nor drop to avoid the blow so he raised his arm defensively.
Flinching his head away he saw sparks as a heavy blow landed against his arm and glanced off of his skull. He felt a sharp awkward pain in his forearm and heard an audible snap from a bone breaking as he fell to the side. Rolling as best he could he still managed to flop like a rag doll onto his side.
He lay there a moment trying to be aware of the world around him as lights danced before his eyes. He was aware that his attacker was stepping from the shadows and prepared himself for a fight.
"Lucian?" a female voice spoke with surprise. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" the voice belonged to a somewhat curvy lady wielding an impressive and very hard staff. She wore simple clothing consisting of pants and a large billowy shirt. Her bare feet showed her toes as they scrunched and wiggled in anger or excitement.
"What's wrong with me? I'm pretty sure you broke my arm." Lucian retorted. He remembered her now...but wasn't entirely sure due to the dancing sparks and ringing in his head.
"Hmm. Well I WAS trying to kill you so I suppose things could have turned out worse for you." the lady leaned on her staff and shook her head in disapproval. She seemed honestly disappointed in her failure to kill him.
"It's nice to see your taste in clothing hasn't changed much. But let me see if I can't do something about that arm so you don't cry." She reached her hand out while stepping forward.
"That's alright. I can tend to it myself. I've picked up a few things since my last visit." Lucian retorted.
As he cradled his wounded arm he closed his eyes and began to speak softly. Soon it seemed as if his arm were becoming hidden in a shadow that grew deeper and darker until at last his entire arm was hidden in a black inky cloud. As his words finished he shuddered and with a soft *whoosh* the cloud of darkness flew apart leaving his arm whole and healed.
The lady whistled a longish low note of appreciation. "Wow. Dark healing magic huh? I guess you did learn a thing or two." she leaned on her staff and stared at him. "Yer not very good at it if you can't even care for all those cuts on your chest and stuff. How's about we get those taken care of...and maybe find you some pants or something? Lunch is soon and I want to keep my appetite."
Lucian smiled at her playful jibes and pulled himself up to stand. "You know what Devlin? It's good to see you again....and I might just take you up on those offers."
With that he swayed over towards her, the room spinning. His last thought before watching the hard stone floor rush at him was that perhaps his head had been struck harder than he first thought.
Hunted Part 3 2/2005
The ape-like man approached holding his glowing poker like some sort of prize or very painful flower being delivered with glee. His leather apron flapped against his legs as he almost skipped towards his goal.
"So you got a name pretty boy? Or should I just call you pretty boy?" Lucian let his brain go on its random planning while his mouth bought him some time. It's amazing how much you can say when you don't have to think about it.
Looking around he spotted a bucket of murkish water with a rope handle near his feet. Perhaps that was there in case he suddenly burst into flames during this little party? Either way an idea presented itself. He just had to make it work.
He started shaking his hands in an attempt to free his chain from above. "Pretty boy" laughed through his tombstone like teeth wetly, drool spilling out. He enjoyed the struggle and paused for a moment to enjoy it.
Meanwhile Lucian snaked his toes out and wrapped the rope around his foot tightly. He stared into his captors dull eyes in turn capturing his attention.
As the large man shuffled forward he held his poker outwards like a secondary penis chuckling to himself. As he got got close he slowly raised his tool upwards it's cherry color now dulled to a low red.
"Do you like to dance pretty boy?" Lucian asked his voice slightly nervous sounding. The brute paused and cocked his head to the side looking slightly confused.
"Not sure? Then let's dance and see how you like it." Lucian raised his legs quickly bringing his knees upwards. Sensing an attack the ape-man brough his elbows in and down brutishly blocking the attack with a smile.
His smile quickly faded in a cloud of surprised steam as the bucket of water flipped upwards dousing his brand. As the steam rushed upwards it hit the man full in the face and he fell backwards clutching his scalded eyes. As he fell over he slammed his meaty skull on the brazier and fell to the floor silent as the contents flipped onto his naked back with a smokey sizzle.
"Well that worked....grosser than I expected."
Looking upwards Lucian started walking his hands up the chain. It was attached somehow at the center beyond his sight so it didn't simply slide back and forth in his grasp. As he got closer to the jutting ledge that held him he puled himself up and bent at his waist. He pulled his legs and hips over the ledge above him and then let the larger weight carry him the remainder of his distance. A dull crude peg of metal gouged his stomach as flipped upwards.
The chains at his wrists were joined together with a large ring. This ring in turn was looped over the peg. Pulling his chain from the peg he knelt and looked around from his perch.
"Well the easy part is done. Now to kill that wizard."
Landing softly from the ledge he jogged off in the direction his prey had taken his bare feet padding lightly into the darkness.
"So you got a name pretty boy? Or should I just call you pretty boy?" Lucian let his brain go on its random planning while his mouth bought him some time. It's amazing how much you can say when you don't have to think about it.
Looking around he spotted a bucket of murkish water with a rope handle near his feet. Perhaps that was there in case he suddenly burst into flames during this little party? Either way an idea presented itself. He just had to make it work.
He started shaking his hands in an attempt to free his chain from above. "Pretty boy" laughed through his tombstone like teeth wetly, drool spilling out. He enjoyed the struggle and paused for a moment to enjoy it.
Meanwhile Lucian snaked his toes out and wrapped the rope around his foot tightly. He stared into his captors dull eyes in turn capturing his attention.
As the large man shuffled forward he held his poker outwards like a secondary penis chuckling to himself. As he got got close he slowly raised his tool upwards it's cherry color now dulled to a low red.
"Do you like to dance pretty boy?" Lucian asked his voice slightly nervous sounding. The brute paused and cocked his head to the side looking slightly confused.
"Not sure? Then let's dance and see how you like it." Lucian raised his legs quickly bringing his knees upwards. Sensing an attack the ape-man brough his elbows in and down brutishly blocking the attack with a smile.
His smile quickly faded in a cloud of surprised steam as the bucket of water flipped upwards dousing his brand. As the steam rushed upwards it hit the man full in the face and he fell backwards clutching his scalded eyes. As he fell over he slammed his meaty skull on the brazier and fell to the floor silent as the contents flipped onto his naked back with a smokey sizzle.
"Well that worked....grosser than I expected."
Looking upwards Lucian started walking his hands up the chain. It was attached somehow at the center beyond his sight so it didn't simply slide back and forth in his grasp. As he got closer to the jutting ledge that held him he puled himself up and bent at his waist. He pulled his legs and hips over the ledge above him and then let the larger weight carry him the remainder of his distance. A dull crude peg of metal gouged his stomach as flipped upwards.
The chains at his wrists were joined together with a large ring. This ring in turn was looped over the peg. Pulling his chain from the peg he knelt and looked around from his perch.
"Well the easy part is done. Now to kill that wizard."
Landing softly from the ledge he jogged off in the direction his prey had taken his bare feet padding lightly into the darkness.
Hunted Part: 2 10/2005
*drip*
"Lucian"
*drip*
"Lucian"
*drip*
"Luuuciaaaaan"
*drip*
"LUCIAN!"
Snapping awake he knew he wasn't dead. If you felt this badly you weren't dead...maybe dieing...wishing..but not dead. His head swam with dark images and sparks for a moment as he found his bearings.
He took in his surroundings though he already knew their layout by heart. Nice to see things hadn't changed since his last visit.
Dark and dank were useful to describe his current home. A dungeon of torture. Fires burned in useful spots for ease of torture, water dripped in various spots for ease of torture, devices were placed about the room for...
well you get the point.
His wrists were clasped in irons and held above his head. A chain, most likely attached to a larger centered ring, stretched above him and out of sight over a large beam. The cuffs were welded shut to prevent him from picking the locks. More than likely the chain was looped over a hook or peg so that he could be moved while unconscious without having to rely on locks and keys.
His feet dangled above a grate in the floor...looking down he noticed his clothing had been removed. And a number of cuts bled freely explaining the dripping he had heard earlier.
In front of him stood two people. Ok. One person and one large hairless ape. He knew both.
The taller one was the same wizard he had been trying to kill. He was dressed in white, the color of death, from head to toe and he managed to stay spotless even in this local.
The large ape was dressed in a leather apron and boots....one hoped there were pants beneath the apron. They both smiled...the wizard with little warmth and the ape with wicked glee.
The wizard spoke smoothly. A light accent flowed and mingled with his words. "Lucian. Welcome back. You have been..." at this he reached out and dug a nail into one of the cuts. "...sorely missed."
A wince climbed up Lucian's face and his body pulled away from the nail.
"Did you notice what I did there? I caused you pain while referring to your absence as being painful. I'm learning to be funny. Don't you approve?"
Lucian raised an eyebrow slightly, "Were you? I hadn't noticed."
This brought another fierce dig of the nail.
"Ah Lucian. Always the wit. Perhaps you will lose your tongue waggle once we've burned the insolence from your eyes? Hmm?" The wizard nodded coolly to the ape-man who drew a large red hot iron from a brazier located within ease of reach.
Lucian sighed, "I wouldn't bet on that. I'm fairly mouthy and lack verbal self control."
With a smirk the wizard turned and walked away his voice echoing slightly through the darkness...
"We shall see Lucian. We shall see."
"Lucian"
*drip*
"Lucian"
*drip*
"Luuuciaaaaan"
*drip*
"LUCIAN!"
Snapping awake he knew he wasn't dead. If you felt this badly you weren't dead...maybe dieing...wishing..but not dead. His head swam with dark images and sparks for a moment as he found his bearings.
He took in his surroundings though he already knew their layout by heart. Nice to see things hadn't changed since his last visit.
Dark and dank were useful to describe his current home. A dungeon of torture. Fires burned in useful spots for ease of torture, water dripped in various spots for ease of torture, devices were placed about the room for...
well you get the point.
His wrists were clasped in irons and held above his head. A chain, most likely attached to a larger centered ring, stretched above him and out of sight over a large beam. The cuffs were welded shut to prevent him from picking the locks. More than likely the chain was looped over a hook or peg so that he could be moved while unconscious without having to rely on locks and keys.
His feet dangled above a grate in the floor...looking down he noticed his clothing had been removed. And a number of cuts bled freely explaining the dripping he had heard earlier.
In front of him stood two people. Ok. One person and one large hairless ape. He knew both.
The taller one was the same wizard he had been trying to kill. He was dressed in white, the color of death, from head to toe and he managed to stay spotless even in this local.
The large ape was dressed in a leather apron and boots....one hoped there were pants beneath the apron. They both smiled...the wizard with little warmth and the ape with wicked glee.
The wizard spoke smoothly. A light accent flowed and mingled with his words. "Lucian. Welcome back. You have been..." at this he reached out and dug a nail into one of the cuts. "...sorely missed."
A wince climbed up Lucian's face and his body pulled away from the nail.
"Did you notice what I did there? I caused you pain while referring to your absence as being painful. I'm learning to be funny. Don't you approve?"
Lucian raised an eyebrow slightly, "Were you? I hadn't noticed."
This brought another fierce dig of the nail.
"Ah Lucian. Always the wit. Perhaps you will lose your tongue waggle once we've burned the insolence from your eyes? Hmm?" The wizard nodded coolly to the ape-man who drew a large red hot iron from a brazier located within ease of reach.
Lucian sighed, "I wouldn't bet on that. I'm fairly mouthy and lack verbal self control."
With a smirk the wizard turned and walked away his voice echoing slightly through the darkness...
"We shall see Lucian. We shall see."
Hunted 10/2005
The rain fell gently against the outstretched leaves gathering size but losing speed as they fell to the forest floor. As they passed other leaves they *tic*ed and *tak*ed against them covering most soft noises in a grey mist of sound. When they rested against the forest floor they made soft the dry and thirsty leaves making foot falls, for those who knew how to step rightly, no louder than a falling rain drop.
Perched along a thick limb masked by clumps of leaves lay a figure. Though, unless looking straight at him while you carried a lamp, all you would see would be an oddly lumped limb with one rather straight branch...ending in an odd shaped leaf.
He carried his bow at the ready an arrow nocked another held in the same hand that held the string. His legs ran the length of the limb arched slightly over each side...his thighs squeezing from time to time to adjust his balance...but only slightly...and rarely.
He almost dozed but not quiet. His eyes were closed, since the dark of night hid him from most eyes and the storm clouds stole what little light remained he waited listening. When the time came he would see enough.
He ran through small plans in his head though he made sure to not like one more than any other since plans...like life...often changed in ways one did not expect.
His cloak, tucked against him, helped smooth his form making him less likely to be spotted. Its special fabric helped keep most water out though that had become moot long ago. His light leather armor had become soaked leaving a cold and clammy feeling against his skin when caught in passing breezes. It would be easier to move being softer when wet...but heavier as well. A balance he could live with.
Under his cloak, against his back, his sword lay like a dead thing. Smaller than most blades of its style it was never the less his weapon of choice. Coupled with his knives he felt more than ready.
His heart stopped as did his breathing. He could hear the soft stepping of a small number of horses. Down the leaf covered trail they made little noise save the occasional *hruuf* of dislike for the rain and a small jingle from their tack.
Three horses. As they came closer their hooves could be heard pressing and stepping carefully in the dark and wet. They were about twenty yards away...a long shot with a bow in day light. A little more time would be needed.
He opened his eyes looking in the direction of the sounds. Having been closed for so long his pupils were dilated allowing for more light to enter. This helped but he needed to see more.
He felt his eyes shifting slightly...blending...moving..changing. As they did this his vision changed...more colors bled in with the purples and greys of night. He could also more clearly as his new eyes focused on the riders.
The central rider was flanked by two large men who were obviously guards. They concerned him very little as his target was far more dangerous than any brute force could muster.
His target was dressed in long robes hidden under a cloak. He appeared old but also very fit for his age. Water could be seen glistening on his horse...but the man appeared dry. He seemed to be saying something to his guards...or mumbling to himself the way the old or thoughtful sometimes do. Just then he motioned with his staff towards the man in the trees.
The man in the tree felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as his heart squeezed a lump of adrenalin into his system.
Point of interest...
When a bolt of lightning strikes a tree you happen to be in...
you will not hear it land.
Perched along a thick limb masked by clumps of leaves lay a figure. Though, unless looking straight at him while you carried a lamp, all you would see would be an oddly lumped limb with one rather straight branch...ending in an odd shaped leaf.
He carried his bow at the ready an arrow nocked another held in the same hand that held the string. His legs ran the length of the limb arched slightly over each side...his thighs squeezing from time to time to adjust his balance...but only slightly...and rarely.
He almost dozed but not quiet. His eyes were closed, since the dark of night hid him from most eyes and the storm clouds stole what little light remained he waited listening. When the time came he would see enough.
He ran through small plans in his head though he made sure to not like one more than any other since plans...like life...often changed in ways one did not expect.
His cloak, tucked against him, helped smooth his form making him less likely to be spotted. Its special fabric helped keep most water out though that had become moot long ago. His light leather armor had become soaked leaving a cold and clammy feeling against his skin when caught in passing breezes. It would be easier to move being softer when wet...but heavier as well. A balance he could live with.
Under his cloak, against his back, his sword lay like a dead thing. Smaller than most blades of its style it was never the less his weapon of choice. Coupled with his knives he felt more than ready.
His heart stopped as did his breathing. He could hear the soft stepping of a small number of horses. Down the leaf covered trail they made little noise save the occasional *hruuf* of dislike for the rain and a small jingle from their tack.
Three horses. As they came closer their hooves could be heard pressing and stepping carefully in the dark and wet. They were about twenty yards away...a long shot with a bow in day light. A little more time would be needed.
He opened his eyes looking in the direction of the sounds. Having been closed for so long his pupils were dilated allowing for more light to enter. This helped but he needed to see more.
He felt his eyes shifting slightly...blending...moving..changing. As they did this his vision changed...more colors bled in with the purples and greys of night. He could also more clearly as his new eyes focused on the riders.
The central rider was flanked by two large men who were obviously guards. They concerned him very little as his target was far more dangerous than any brute force could muster.
His target was dressed in long robes hidden under a cloak. He appeared old but also very fit for his age. Water could be seen glistening on his horse...but the man appeared dry. He seemed to be saying something to his guards...or mumbling to himself the way the old or thoughtful sometimes do. Just then he motioned with his staff towards the man in the trees.
The man in the tree felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as his heart squeezed a lump of adrenalin into his system.
Point of interest...
When a bolt of lightning strikes a tree you happen to be in...
you will not hear it land.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Past writing
Included below is a link to a livejournal where I've done writing before. Some of the content is adult in nature and it should be flagged as such but be warned.
geschrammt livejournal
geschrammt livejournal
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