Paradise Lost

[None So Blind]

"Vel'bol faer zhah nindol!?" the boy cried.

Kor truly pitied him. He was sure that the boy had been so taken by the naked succubus' form that he'd never notice that he'd never touched her. Kor wondered, if as a young Ghauntyrr'Stra, so new to the Kyorl and lacking so much wisdom, if he would have fallen for an illusion as simple as desire. He was sure that would have. Lust was the downfall of the young, ignorance that of a woman. He was staring beyond the cadet now, at the crumpled body of the Drowess that lay where he had placed her. His brows narrowed.

"Dos inbal morfel dosst ilhar ji numl. Il orn neitar kyorl ilta wiu doera natha nesst, jhal dos orn kyorl faer maristo. L'faer nindel zhah wun l'Takrin..."

His voice was so soft that the young soldier could hardly believe that it had been a threat. As the child reached for his sword, Kor was there. His hand grabbed the younger man's wrist, ripping it away as easily as one would rip thin paper from an old manuscript. His other hand grabbed the sword, and pulled it from it's scabbard. Later, when the boy was indeed walking through the wasteland of the afterlife, the wind would come to him, and he would think - for all eternity - of how it sounded like his traitor blade sneaking through the leather scabbard. Kor held the young Kyorl cadet's weapon, and the boy paled visibly.

Despite the fact that at that very moment, a small finch came swooping in from the clouds to try and claw at Kor's eyes, his strike was true. The perfect violet of the boys eyes was darkened by an expanding pupil, his pain visible on his face as he crumpled to the ground. Removing the blade with a wet squelch, Kor shook it at the bird, turning from the cadet as he struggled to stay conscious for his last few minutes of life.

Kor paused as he stood once more over Ghauntyrr'Stra's body. His hand moved up to rub at a sting on his cheek where the bird had managed to scratch him with her small talons. It wasn't even deep enough to bleed, and yet it was that scratch that angered him beyond finding out that her power over illusions still held true, beyond her attempt at betrayal. Holding out his hand, as if seeking her, he called out her name. Before the last rebounding "Queen" could fade across the countryside, the bird was fluttering down to his hand. Her small beady eyes glared at him, her emerald and obsidian plumage ruffled upwards in frustration.

"So..." he spat, his anger in evidence with every word. "It seems that you still must obey me, even after you take up arms against my life." He turned his head away, staring down the road. They were closer than he had thought, for here and there the telltale landmarks on the path were striking up memories of a place that he had refused to visit for longer than this lifetime would atone to. He flung out his hand, sending the bird up into the air where her wings were aided with the wind to take her into the clouds. In the moonlight, he could see a faint shadow wind down the path and knew that she had gone ahead.

Perhaps to call up guards to lie in wait... he thought bitterly as he pulled Ghauntyrr'Stra's prone from again onto his shoulder, burdened now with the sword in his hand. After a moment, he threw it down, kicking the hilt towards the body that had once owned it. Was in need of steel, but he could count on one hand few other places he'd be less willing to gain it from. His hand now free, it stroked down Ghauntyrr'Stra's thigh, marveling at the material of her dragon skin suit. At the arch of her back and the curve of her legs, the moonlight shimmered as if on water, but all else fell into illusion, as if she were just part of him, and the world around them.

"Dos tois ichl ulnin." he said quietly, and then once again went on his way through the hills of Alerar, towards an open grave that had been laying in wait for thirty years now. But as he finally turned the last round in the path, and past within the rusted archway, the gate already flung open and creaking just barely back and forth in the light breeze, he found that he was not the only one in Do'afin cemetery tonight.

What magic is this!?

You have made your mother so sad. She will never see her boy become a man, but you will see magic tonight. The magic that is in the Desert...

You died too soon.

[INDK]

There were few things that could move a happily retired man into action, but the proper burial of a woman who so richly deserved it was one of those things. Damon had been following Kor ever since Sanctuary, concealed by the way that he had bent the light around his body. Old age may have been rough on the joints, but Damon still had enough tricks to stay hidden from a man who would have hardly been concerned with his presence anyways.

It had been deathly heartbreaking to maintain the silence for as long as he had, but Damon knew that he shouldn’t interfere. It would have been selfish of him, and unfair to Kor. He had wanted to apologize to Ghaun’tyrrstra, about not handling the situation with Sevviel, about needing to publicly rebuke her on the day she died, and not being able to save her despite his best intentions. It had been a humbling moment for Damon when Ghauntyrr’Stra had fallen, it was another of the seemingly constant reminders in his life that goodness alone didn’t guarantee a meaningful life.

Finally, it had come a time where he could reveal himself and say his meaningful farewells. Damon knew that perhaps had Ghauntyrr’Stra been there to see him, she would have considered any eulogy he offered now as far too late. For all he knew, Kor likely thought the same. Still, Damon felt as though he had something to say, something that needed to have been said, and that he couldn’t go without saying.

Now, Damon returned to his normal colors. “Hello,” he said, his voice wavering more than Ghaun’tyrrstra would have probably been comfortable with. “Ussta kaas zhah Damon Kaosi.” He said the name as if there was nothing all that important to it, though for him, that had always been true. He explained himself by the only title that mattered to him at the moment. “Usstan zhahus natha abbil d'Ghaun”

Unsure if that would be enough to placate Kor, Damon explained his presence. “Usstan inbalus tlus wun Sanctuary,” he continued. “Usstan kyor dos jhal kat ssinssrin ulu unbuwun hwuen nin, p'wal. Usstan zhaunau nindel dos zhal’la inbal nindol z'hind ulu dosstan. Usstan kat rytho'le nindel bel'la. Jhal nin, qualla ori'gato uns'aa nienar ussta zhuanth abbil xuil dos. Naut p'wal Usstan rytho'le ol, jhal ulu bel'la Ghaun.”

Ussta kass zhah Damon Kaosi= My name is Damon Kaosi.

Usstan zhahus natha abbil d'Ghaun= I was a friend of Ghaun.

Usstan inbalus tlus wun Sanctuary= I had been in Sanctuary.

Usstan kyor dos jhal kat ssinssrin ulu unbuwun hwuen nin, p'wal. Usstan zhaunau nindel dos zhal’la inbal nindol z'hind ulu dosstan. Usstan kat rytho'le nindel bel'la. Jhal nin, qualla ori'gato uns'aa nienar ussta zhuanth abbil xuil dos. Naut p'wal Usstan rytho'le ol, jhal ulu bel'la Ghaun.” = I didn’t interfere because I knew that you needed to take this journey by yourself. I didn’t deserve that honor. But now, please let me bury my old friend with you. Not because I deserve it, but to honor Ghaun.

[None So Blind]

After Damon had spoken, the only sound through the graveyard was the light crunch of Kor's feet as he walked slowly through stones and statuettes to the gaping break in the dark soil. He kept his voice a mask of calmness, his orange eyes steadily staring at his goal after that first slow perusal of the man who stood in wait. Damon Kaosi had been one of the last people Ghauntyrr'Stra Do'afin had seen. He had been the one she had sacrificed herself to save. It almost made him chuckle. There had always been a long list of ways one could expect the proud Drowess to fall, but giving her life to another was hardly high on the list.

The wind was sweeping in from the sea, cool and quiet as he finally made his way through the tall grass that obscured half the smaller stones. The light of the moon was strong tonight, more features of the old man's face coming ever more clear as he approached. It was hard to look at the elder and think of him as the great general that Ghauntyrr'Stra had once hesitantly called a friend. There were some features, though, that while wrinkled with age and stress, he could genuinely see as Damon's. The general had always been a hero, in the right place at the right time in Kor's eyes. He was surprised to have seen him, to have heard his words, though now he knew he really shouldn't have been.

"Ghauntyrr'Stra orn'la vee tau al'doer nindol isto." he said, his baritone sweeping over the silence of the resting dead. "'Zil xun usstan."

He couldn't bear to lay her body down or to jump into the grave with her form across his shoulder. Movement in the trees apart from the wind told him that Queen was there, and he hoped that she wouldn't try to interrupt his business again. Foolish and willful he knew her to be, but he hoped that she was at least kinder than he might be. He used the shadows, slipping through darkness to stand at the bottom of the grave in moments. It hurt to lay her down, to bury her without a box. Despite what he knew would happen with so much earth raining down on her, he took the time to lay her body straight. He spread her hair behind her like a ghostly halo, crossed her arms over her chest. His hand rested on her cheek for only a moment, before he turned, scrambling up the sides of the grave with his strength and sweat. She deserved that much - his toil.

The mound of dirt that had been waiting by the grave had been there for a long time. Grass and ferns now grew over it, higher than Kor's head. Immediately, he dug his fingers into the soil, breaking the roots away and flinging them into the weeds on other graves as he sought to clear the burial dust. His eyes only slid once or twice to Damon's form, too many questions on his mind, but the need for this silent farewall far overshadowing his curiosity. Finally, when he had two handfuls of the dirt, he held one out to Damon. Thrusting his fist over the grave, his shaking hand let crumbles of dirt slide between his fingers, sprinkling the form of the fallen Drowess.

"Tiuin'iona ulu tiuin'iona..."

Ghauntyrr'Stra would bid you welcome this night. As do I.

Dust to dust...

[None So Blind]

Queen watched the men work through the night. Their movements, steady and silent echoed the movement of the trees where she sought her sanctuary. Moments flashed before her where she remembered drowning, the panic and pain of dying under the water. Her rage flashed with those memories but were swept away with each new thump of dirt that fell into the hole. Watching him like this, she couldn't truly hate him. Beyond her own thrumming heartbeat, she could feel his grief sweeping across her. It went beyond burying the body of his past lifetime. He had made this woman's flesh his idol and soulmate.

She knew what it was to love and lose. Slowly, she settled down in the tree and watched as the rift in the earth that now housed the late Ghauntyrr'Stra slowly filled and the men sat beside it. Whispered conversation between them was too muffled for the bird to hear, but the tones were respectful. This was the eulogy, and Ghauntyrr'Stra's was long and reverent.

It caused the little bird pause. In her last lifetime, had she been remembered this way when she died? She was sure she'd been given a funeral. She hadn't been left a headless corpse in the woods, had she? The wind, comfortably cool before, was now bitterly chilling. She shrank against the breeze now, watching as the older man got up to leave. She wanted to go home, to Concordia, to the city hidden away within the tall trees. As Kor curled up on the mound before the tombstone, she lost herself to memories of her children, and of friends long lost.

The sun had come peeking over the horizon before she finally flew to the top of the stone. At first she'd thought Kor would be asleep, but found his eyes locked to the engraving upon the stone. They were red; she was sure he'd been crying sometime in the night.

It's time to leave this behind, she said softly to him. When he turned his orange eyes up towards her and then back down, she could tell that this would be harder for him than any goodbye should be. She's in the ground, it's over.

"Nind neitar skrel ilta drasven pholor l'khaliizi." he said. "Vel'uss orn zhaun vel'drav il tois?"

At this, the bird had to stop. His intent came to her, despite the fact that she couldn't understand a word of Drow. While she knew his worry, if she wasn't careful she feared that he would become entombed by his sadness, buried here with the body of Ghauntyrr'Stra Do'afin.

They will know she has fallen, because her spirit was born again to avenge.

Kor sat up now, pumpkin eyes burning into Queen's. She felt the spike of power once again that she'd felt when they'd been born anew from the Well of Souls in Raiaera. His anger kept him going, and she'd returned it. In the morning light, soft and misty around them, there was a fire that roared back into searing life. She could feel Kor's mind turn from the graveyard to an Alerian village not far from here, and had she been gifted with the Foresight she would have seen it alight with the flames of Hell. Indeed, Hell stood from before the final resting place of the fallen Brotherhood Captain and turned eastward where redeeming bloodshed lay in wait.

The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide:
They, hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.

John Milton - Paradise Lost, Book 12, Lines 696-699

The years she lived were never engraved on the stone. Who will know when she died?

[Zook Murnig]

Quest Judging


STORY ~ 26.5/30

Continuity ~ 8/10 At your request, I read through The Desert, though mostly out of interest. Having read it, I can tell you that about all it told me that I couldn't learn in this thread was the why and how of Kor and Natamrael's connection and forms. I had a question early on about why the goddess would be angry with Kor, but that was answered in later reading. I know where Kor came from, and have an idea of where he will go.
Setting ~ 9/10 I could see everything, and I loved the description of Sanctuary and the tower.
Pacing ~ 9.5/10 You know this already, but several months ago when I was reading this the first time to practice taking judgment notes, I forgot for several posts about the notes for being so engrossed in the story. I took one note this time, and then erased it (see Continuity).

CHARACTER ~ 30/30

Dialogue ~ 10/10 Use of the drow language was great flavor, besides which every piece of dialogue was incredible and spoke to who the character was.
Action ~ 10/10 I remember months ago I made the note of this being the most elaborate masturbation thread I've ever seen. Flashbacks of the baptism of Seth Dahlios combined with the drowning of Natamrael made for great use of parallelism. I'm trying hard, and I can't think of a single bad thing to say here. No action was unclear or badly written.
Persona ~ 10/10 You know Kor and Natamrael, and you make this clear from start to finish in this thread. I don't think I'll ever give another ten in this category.

WRITING STYLE ~ 26/30

Technique ~ 9/10 Personification, metaphor, wordplay, simile, parallelism, simultaneous action. All this and more is expertly executed. Well written, but never overwritten.
Mechanics ~ 9/10 I counted three problems here, two of them typos. And I'm anal about this category. Well done.
Clarity ~ 8/10 There were a few moments where I was confused as to what was going on, though they were quickly relieved. Still, that hurt this particular category. Other than those times, everything was clear enough with just the right amount of murkiness to keep me intrigued.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 10/10 I want MOAR!

TOTAL ~ 92.5

None So Blind gains 4264 EXP and 240 GP
INDK gains 1623 EXP and 18 GP for his brief cameo.

Movement is pending JC decision.

If you have any questions about the judgment or how you can improve, PM me or send me a message on AIM, screen name SuperSonicMatt1.

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP ADDED!

MOVEMENT PENDING JC DECISION!