The forest was visible just beyond the threshold. Sunlight filtered into the shadows at the mouth, but dared go no further. Torchlight instead illuminated the darkness of the cavern, a deceptively wide and open place. Decorated with fetishes of darker magic and littered with broken bones, it served as a ritual battlefield for the order of the Crimson Hand.
You gave 48 hours until the battle starts, and 2 week until it ends. No time-frame on daily posts.
Even a well-lit place can hide salvation
A map to a one-man maze that never sees the sun
Where the lost are the heroes
And the thieves are left to drown
Calm and Cold, and how they became Mithril.
A swaying step upon the forests sacred soil the decomposing remains of what came in times past before, and her descent into abysmal darkness of the dank cavern as every step towards progress regressed towards bitter sweet madness.
Fickle flames loomed in torchlight casting her miserable wretch of a shadow upon the wall that seemed to betray her adamant composure with a twisted smile of malificent glee.
The snap crackle pop of brittle bones crunching beneath her bare feet gave a moment of pause. Those that have arisen from the cesspool of life must someday return from whence they came as rotting corpses for the worms to gnaw upon. Repetition was hell and yet the gears in the cycle of life did whine and groan.
In each hand she clenched an iron short sword. Edges meticulously honed into surgically sharp instruments of sundering death as they both gleamed formidably in torchlight.
The vampire wore a two piece silk dress, the tops tassels tied in a quaint little ribbon for flamboyant flare as spare lengths fluttered and bounced with her stride. Her bottom was a flowing cascade of shimmering fabric and lace, that moved eloquently with the rhythm of her legs.
Last edited by Gemstone; 05-15-15 at 01:40 PM. Reason: My Rhythm Was Off!
http://www.althanas.com/world/showth...l-short-swords ~ confirmation of steel swords
"Tobias?" A long pause, and then, "Maddy?"
The high-pitched female voice carried through the forest, familiar names filling the air in the unfamiliar place. She called again, before falling silent to strain against the sounds of her surroundings. The answer that returned to her was not that of her friends. It was the rough-skinned bullfrog, whose cry from the underbrush only a few feet away sent the girl stumbling backwards. It was the minuscule insect, whose sudden, impossibly loud buzz filled her ear and sent shivers running up her spine. It was the mighty bird of prey, whose chilling scream overhead tore a soft whimper from her lips.
Then it was the trees. A whipping wind washed over the wretched woods, and the hushed whispers of thousands of leaves became all that the weary traveler could hear. Her hands moved the sides of her head, palms pressed firmly to her ears, fingers woven haphazardly into her wild brown locks. She did not wish to hear the bullfrog, the insect, the bird, or the urgent murmurs of the tall trees. But the wind did not halt for mere mortals, and after the slightest pause for some godly figure to fill his lung, the gust grew stronger still. It tore at her clothes, sending her loose-fitting tunic flapping madly, and passing easily though her thin breeches. Like a blade of grass bowing beneath the mighty gust, the tiny woman bent at the waist, hunching her shoulders, and shielding her face to the best of her ability. The forest itself, it seemed, had responded to her desperate pleas for comfort, her panicked cries for normalcy.
The wind passed on as quickly as it had found the lone figure, and as the trees straightened, so did she. Slowly, she unfurled herself, allowing her hands to drop to her sides, and her jade eyes to finally slip open once more. They were rimmed in deep crimson, and damp with the beginnings of salty tears.
Her chapped lips parted to call out for him once more, but something stopped her before she could find her voice. And what if he were to find you here, looking like this? The thought brought a grimace to her freckle-riddled face. There was not a shred of doubt in the young woman's mind that he would ridicule her for the fat tears that finally spilled over, and streaked down her flushed cheeks.
"Do what you want," he had told her the week prior, when she had asked him about joining Maddy's war. "But you'll do alright. You're stronger now than when I first picked you up in Alerar." Fingertips subconsciously traced the cold, iron edge of the wrench that hung from her hip as the memory continued. "Keep your gun on you at all times for protection, but bring your tools too. Fixing things is what you're good at, and who knows what you'll find out there."
Who knows what you'll find out there. That was precisely what the girl was afraid of. Dangerous creatures lurked within these woods, slinking through the darkness that remained in patches under the thick canopy no matter the time of day. Then, of course, there was the enemy itself, surely more trained and better prepared than she was. Her intention had been to meet up with Tobias and Maddy, but her arrival had been met with only an empty forest. Doomed to wander the winding paths alone, she had grown more wary with every step.
"I have to find them," Rayleigh Aston whispered, the sound of her own voice bringing her some comfort but little confidence. They'll tell me what to do.
A sudden hiss of leaves overhead betrayed the next strong gust that would soon be upon her. I need to get out of this wind, came a sudden thought. I need somewhere quiet to think. Her emerald gaze swept her surroundings in a wide arch, and much to her relief, soon came to rest on the large mouth of a nearby cave. It stood, patient and unmoving, as her short legs carried her to its great opening. She would not venture too deep inside, for a dark cave promised darker entities, but there would be no danger in sitting just inside of it. The mechanic took a deep breath, and as long grass gave way to jagged stone beneath her boots, all noise died away.
"Just stay hidden. I'll return for you." Her words hung like a promise in the thick air of the cavern. Tiny pinholes in the roof let in streams of sunlight that did little to brighten the darkness. The small portion of the larger cave I'd chosen as my shelter was not much larger than a closet. I could stand easily and I had about three paces before I hit a wall in any direction. The only sound was the running water of a dying waterfall in the room before this one. It may have been beautiful at some point, but now it had little left to offer other than a hidden retreat. The cave had not been abandoned long. Evidence of blood sport were everywhere. I had trampled many brittle bones and the occasional broken blade on my path. I did not let my mind wonder too far into the possibilities.
As I sat waiting for Kyla Orlouge I considered my place in all of this. I was not made for war. I was barely made for the day to day challenges of life. The small steel blade on my right hip had become familiar to my hand. The callouses on my palm were thick where the wooden handle made contact, but I was still far from an expert in its use.
As always I had been dragged into a scheme I had no stake in by a friend. I really needed to start finding friends who enjoyed dice or dancing rather than bloodshed.
Now all I could do was wait. Kyla would return soon enough I hoped, and we would return to our lives. Well, I would return to my life, Kyla would hopefully find her peace and be able to let this world go. This world had given up on her long ago.
Footsteps mingled with the sounds of dripping water and a chill ran up my spine. I was no longer alone. I thought of the piles of bones and let my hand rest on my blade. I considered my options. I could stay in my retreat and hope to be overlooked, or I could venture out and have at least some chance to escape once seen. My eyes scanned the dark cavern one last time before I hunched through the doorway and into the room with the waterfall. At least out here I had a shot. I pulled my dagger from its home and crept through the darkness. The soft crunch of those who'd fallen here kept me aware of my surroundings as I tried to let my eyes focus. The next stretch of cavern was well lit, I knew as much from my journey in.
I hoped with all my might that Kyla had returned, but my tensed hand around my blade gave away my doubt.
Closed for judging.
Even a well-lit place can hide salvation
A map to a one-man maze that never sees the sun
Where the lost are the heroes
And the thieves are left to drown
Calm and Cold, and how they became Mithril.
Due to the incomplete nature of this fight, the team of Taste of Treason and Rayleigh win by default.
Even a well-lit place can hide salvation
A map to a one-man maze that never sees the sun
Where the lost are the heroes
And the thieves are left to drown
Calm and Cold, and how they became Mithril.
Cellar and Ray. No rewards.
Even a well-lit place can hide salvation
A map to a one-man maze that never sees the sun
Where the lost are the heroes
And the thieves are left to drown
Calm and Cold, and how they became Mithril.
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