Of Mice and Madmen (Closed)

[Godric]

The cell was misted with mold, plant growth, and age. Built from stone hundreds of years ago, the walls now remained tarnished and cracked, leaving airways for water to leak gracefully from their open wounds. Many have been shunned and brought down to this prison for torture and what the priests considered redemption for a chance of refuge. Many men were brought down to this darkness to never return. They were sinners, thieves, murderers, and rapist. Everything considered Evil on this earth, wrong, and corrupted. But was it? Another man, cursed to this tomb, found it rather ravishing. This man was cast down to this stone cage, never to see the light of day again for his cruel act.

A voice sang in a low bellow, his voice projecting off the empty, dripping wet walls. The voice was beautiful, and that voice was death.

Seldom was his name,
A shadow beyond shadows,
A face of thought gold.

The trees of green would sing,
Casting out a hushed whisper,
That there isn’t an evil so cold.

A name of lies,
Remains beyond a soul,
Man is only his tool.

Thought to be righteous,
And guide the ways of enlightenment,
Only to breathe a curse.

From beyond these stones….


Footsteps followed from a long staircase above, a candle just dim enough to guide the young priest along his small journey to the dark abyss below. He was handsome as he was innocent, guided by the light and faith of his Holy Father. The maker of all things, this world, and this reality. Skeletal like hands reached for him, coarse and graveled voices gasping for release. Many of these poor tortured souls were basically starved, only given the minimum amount of bread and water to keep their pathetic hearts beating.

Though the voice belonging to the man, remained tall, built like an ox, and completely unfeigned by this hell. In fact, he grew quite a liking for it. Surrounded by death and groans of agony. Not as satisfying as his keep and marsh, but his mare would remain loyal until his return.

Three years had passed since it all happened. The fire, the robbery, and the breakout of many dangerous fugitives. What a delightful day it was. That is right, this man committed a crime, causing the death of thirty two loyal guards, seven priests, and nearly the Cleric Anul. Four arrows were forced into this man’s torso, yet he still lives with a beating heart. This man was Godric Vrowl’Ravanosk.

Ears listened carefully to the tale through Godric’s lips, seeming to find a state of calm as the young priest drew closer to the singing cell. Swallowing, Vassius peered through the iron bars to find a bare ass before him. In offensive nudity, Godric’s hind end was revealed before the priest as red writings scattered all throughout the walls. Once the bare man felt the presence of innocent eyes, the singing stopped, only to let out a cold voice. “Hello, Vassius.”

Vassius remained still, his eyes following the writings on the wall. They were dark and cryptic, the writings of a madman. The room smelled absolutely putrid. This writing was in blood and before Vassius feet were dead rats, mangled and twisted for their dark ink. The boy’s mouth fell open from such savagery, his hand clutching harder on his book of religion as if it would grant him some kind of protection from this evil.

*Repent for your forgiveness, for the being of shadows draws near. Guard your will like a jewel, and when he walks beyond the rock, let him see you not. For even a scoundrel of black heart can not match his growing roots. Dreams and reality alone is a playground, and it will mold flesh like clay much like he molds this very earth. You are its strings, its the puppeteer. There is no escape, only madness. Let death be your only release. Unless it casts breath upon you, spreading the plague of living death, only then will you truly be trapped into its treachery.*

“You haven’t marched through these blinding hallways for … three months and five days. What brings your innocent soul to me yet again, dear Vassius? To hear my tale, my story?” Vassius eyes remained on the man calmly, though his heart raced as the aura of evil upon this man chilled his skin. His lips parted to speak, but no voice came out, only the crisp air.

“Of course you did. Just like you wish to know about Abigail Winters.”

Vassius’ heart became still as the name struck a chord, making his chest tighten as if his heart came to an immediate cease. “Pardon?” he whispered in question as if he had no knowledge of her.

Godric turned, lighting up with a grim smile as he looked upon the handsome young gentlemen. Vassius was a dark featured man, lean, and genuinely beautiful. His skin hardly saw the light of day and was soft as virgin. Such innocence. “You wanted her, didn’t you, Vassius? I could tell by the way you looked at her.”

“Abigail was a young maid, and her death is in our hearts. She is in the hands of the lo-”

“You wanted her, Vassius. All fifteen, young, and innocent years. You looked beyond the wretched cross when you thought of her, gazed upon her with sinful eyes. Lust. You thrived for her in the flesh. To will against your god for love. Throw away everything you’ve devoted your life to. To take her beneath your thi-”

“Enough!” Vassius snapped, his eyes wide and serious, breath held tightly as his neck grew tight, nails digging into his book. “I thought of no such things. This is blasphemy!”

Godric laughed with a growl as his hands clutched the bars, his face coming closer to the priest’s. “Oh but you did! You wished to ravage her, Vassius, scorn her innocence with your dark and dire needs! Now she is dead because of you!”

“NO!!” A scream of rage roared from Vassius as he slammed his book against the bars as if to smite Godric down with one blow. As a priest, he never acted in violence. To him, this was over reaction , a loss of self control. For giving into such anger would lead to prayer. For now, he would leave without another word. Not to return for another week.

[Godric]

Vassius’ diary was bind with leather, tattered from age and good use. Vassius, as a young student, was taught proper education such a reading and writing, along side the academics of his religion he devoted himself to. Though his pages grew darker by the months, as the fall became colder, whispering of Winter.

This man, whoever he is, still refuses to talk. I can’t help but admit of how much he intrigues me, though it be repulsive and disgusting. He is still human. I can see it within his cold blue eyes, that there is still light within that tortured soul. God has hope for all man, and so do I. Whatever he may be, I feel I should help him. I feel that I was placed here to watch over him by the Lord’s will. But when the words of the Lord is spoke before him, he laughs, cackles, and scorns me of how I’m blinded of the truth. How can a man, once a Paladin for my very faith, be so… Evil?

This evil. I wonder what it is? Who walks beyond the Stone? I’ve heard Godric speak of this more than one occasion, yet he doesn’t go into detail. This thing, this creature, Godric only announces it as IT. No she, or he, just it. A embodiment of darkness? Even the dark one in my pages of religion at least states that he is a structured being. Could this be a powerful offspring that the pages have yet to see, or has he gone so mad into illusion? With the inmates in the small prison, its hard to tell fiction from reality…

I’ve asked Godric many times of WHO is the one that walks, but his answer every time is ‘When your time comes, you will know. He delights himself on the spirit both weak and strong. No one can hide forever, dear Vassius. Its better to give into temptation of his power than to struggle against a madness you cannot endure.’ Did such darkness really break down even the Will of a once great Paladin?*

Vassius groaned as he turned in his bed, breaking a sweat as fever seemed to come over him. “Vassiusssssss” A voice would whisper with a low hushed hiss, like a serpent’s tongue. The voice would call for him again, and again, until finally the Priest woke with a scream. The night was still dark, a candle light approached his bedroom. So Vassius waited, only to see Abigail , glancing at him with a smile as she passed with her folded towels. Quickly grabbing his candle light, he followed her a question escaping his lips.

“Abigail?”

The priest walked down the corridors, glancing from room to room to find her. She was nowhere to be found. That was until his eyes met on the master’s room for the Head Priest Bastian Grayce. The room was dimmed with light, so Vassius quickly proceeded, entering in the room to find her. She closed the door, placing a finger to his lips before he could speak. “Shh,” she hushed him, “Let’s not wake the others.”

Click. The door lock latched.

The girl was beautiful. A pleasantly won, just as fair as Vassius. Slowly she presented herself to him, a temptation far greater than Vassius has ever encountered. “Abigail, I - I can’t. You know that I devoted my-” Before he could finish, she embraced him softly. And sin was brought forth.

….

A haunting voice struck a chord through the cloud of ecstasy. A chilling, most familiar tone. Godric. “My my, dear Vassius. Look at what you’ve done! You’ve really out done yourself!”

Vassius’ eyes shot open in fear, to see a corpse before him, rotting with maggots and horror. The boy screamed, screamed like he has never done before as he pushed Abigail’s decaying body aside to find himself in her grave! It was he who dug himself to her! What illusion was this!? Digging nails into the soil and mud, he desperately attempted to crawl out. Looking up for some kind of help, he saw before him her grave, a cross with a savior bonded to it. He cried crimson. The blood hit against his face as cries and agony shouted around him. Hags snarled, “Sinner! SINNER!!”

The hallways echoed with screams, waking the other priests as Vassius awoke from his slumber. He was alone in the dark, shaken, and tormented… Father Bastian entered the room, a worried look upon his wrinkled face. “What is the matter dear boy? Why are you screaming?”

Vassius shook, looking over to his Head Priest. “It was nothing Father, just a bad dream. Forgive me for my sudden alarm.”

“This is the third time this week, dear boy. What demons bother you?”

“….Its nothing.”

[Godric]

********
The nightmares did not cease, only became more sinister by each night, as if it truly wished him to suffer. The whispers, the voice, it would not leave. He continued to remain unrevealed, staying amongst the shadows of his clouded mind. “You told her to go there Vassiusssss.”

“No.. L-leave me alone demon! Taunt me no longer!”

Vassius prayed, then prayed, and prayed more for this darkness to leave him, yet it did not. It was as if he were forsaken. Forgotten by his savior, and his God. Each night, there was less sleep, less rest. The other Priests told them how they worried, yet he wouldn’t speak. Eventually Bastian spoke boldly. “Vassius, you are ill. Rest for awhile.”

“I’m afraid I cannot.” Vassius answered back, smiling at Bastian Grayce, his eyes sinking in, blackening from the lack of sleep and nutrition. His cheeks had sunken in, his ribs now revealed, and fingers crooked. “There is no hope for me now. It has come.”

Bastian’s face became pail as he dared ask. Vassius was not himself. It was as if the boy had taken a complete transformation. Something was devouring his will, a demon witty enough to take the boy from under the council’s feet. “What, boy? Who?”

“The one that walks beyond the Stone….”

Bastian quickly returned, packing his things for ritual. He would quickly rid of this demon! Vassius only smiled at the wall until his return, not moving a muscle until the Head Priest returned. Bastian prayed and chanted for the boy, and the boy remained still, a stone. Until Bastian was exhausted did he pray, closing his eyes as he used all of his soul to bring light back into his young student. That was when Vassius moved, sliding a dagger across Bastian’s throat. The man’s eyes widened in fear, in questioning as blood poured from his throat as he fell to his knees, dropping the chalice of holy water before the stone floor. Vassius still but smiled, leaning down as the other Priest witnessing stepped back in disbelief of the discreet murder. In the blood her wrote three letters. ( D.O.L)

The other Priest then immediately assaulted Vassius, restraining him as he screamed, kicked, and tried to bite them. He cursed and spat as they drug him away as others flooded into the room, mourning for the death of their Father. Celius, a well known student for his Academics and Knowledge, gazed upon the braces of Vassius’ chair. They were unlatched, yet the key remained in his pocket. With a shaken voice, his green eyes fell on the blood written letters. “God have mercy on us…”

The priest walked across the room, taking the leather bonded diary, placing it swiftly into his robes. The ink was fairly fresh, and it gave Celius the explanation in which he would soon seek. A secret so dark, yet it was right under their noses this whole time.

*He knew the truth about it all. Between Abigail and I, the reasoning behind her murder. The man could read me like a book, yet Godric kept his own identity secret this whole time. All I know is this haunting, this darkness, was once cursed to him. The night before I snuck from my corridor and talked to him for the last time. He gave me the answer, the answer that will free me. There is only one way. I must kill Father Bastian Grayce. So I live my righting, hoping that it will be found.

I had Love. Her name was Abigail Winters. She was a maiden younger than I, beautiful as the ocean. Her eyes looked on me like I do her, and we would sneak from our rooms at night to meet one another. We’ve done this for months, both breaking code to meet each others kiss. As a Priest I cannot love the flesh, only god, but my temptation took over. Had I not known was this is what started it all. He who walks Beyond the Stone. That it was me that brought his presence here, caught his sinister eyes. His coldness slowly embraced me. Never have I known an evil so patient. I was the one that told Abigail to meet me at cell 39 (A cell that was broke and not used. Nearly forgotten.) and that is where I would find her, torn and dead. Her BLUE dress was ripped and shredded. There was no life to her and it was all my fault.

Had I known that a cellmate was broken loose, I would of never brought her there. It was my fault, and for my sin, I would be punished. Why was I not warned?

I will kill Bastian, and then I will take my own life. This is the only way I will find peace.*

Celius closed the book, looking around as if looking out for any watchers. Making his way through the corridors, he took himself to the cells. He would proceed all the way down, stopping at Godric’s cell. Godric knew this would come eventually. It only took years for it finally to come into conclusion. “So you’re the one that Walks beyond the Stone? Ever since you’ve been brought here, there has been nothing but abnormal activity and evil. Your darkness has cursed this Church!”

Godric only chuckled, which eventually led into laughter as he stood, looking over the Priest Celius, one he has never saw before. “My dear man. You’ve got it all wrong…”

“Do NOT tell me right from wrong you scoundrel!” Celius snapped as he snarled at the dirty rat before him. “I will be sure that you meet death for this!”

“I AM DEATH!” Godric roared as spiraling bones tore into the flesh of Celius, piercing through him like arrows. The Priest fell back wide eyed as he hit the back wall, gazing in shock at the bone arrows that fatally wounded him. After a long collection of rats, Godric had gained enough bone to cast his spell, waiting far too long for the perfect moment. Leaning down, the bulky white haired man grabbed the keys to the cells. Celius was given the keys to every door in the Church by Bastian. The priest gasped as Godric freed himself from his prison and stood over Celius. “And oh, I assure you that this darkness was here far before I ever came. A grim smile came over the Death Knight as Celius gasped and fought for air until death shadowed over him.

2 Days Later.

Bastian was given a proper burial as the Father would. Everyone mourned of his death along with Celius. Godric was also immediately reported after they realized a day later of his escape. They assumed that he was the murderer of Celius. The Cleric Anul would pursue him alone, to finally settle this menace of his treachery. Bastian’s brother was granted the man’s possessions. He was not of the church. Logan Grayce looked through his things, finally coming across a small folded silk. Something was inside. Within the purple silk remained a Blue ribbon. No, with a closer look it was no ribbon, but a torn piece of cloth.

The End.

[Revenant]

Godric, normally threads need to be a minimum of 10 posts or roughly 7,000 words to earn full exp/gp. As this thread was roughly half that size, you will be getting half exp/gp for it.

Full Rubric, Full Commentary requested.

Plot: (22)

Storytelling (7) – This was an interesting tale of morality, corruption, religion, and misdirection. The focus was well maintained and though there were unfamiliar terms thrown around, they were used in a familiar context and didn’t distract from the overall theme. Expounding on the features of this story and giving more would have raised your score here.

Setting (6) – You do a good job of describing the dungeon in your first post but then just go from there with the focus almost exclusively on the characters. You’ve obviously got a good picture of where this is taking place along with the other elements of the story and it should come through more.

Pacing (9) – The short length of this story really helped this area out, as everything was tight and tied together very well. The only real issue that skewed the pacing was the phrasing of the “2 Days Later” last paragraph. A more subtle reveal would have really clinched this, like having the scrap fall from the possessions as they were being gathered or something.

Character: (19)

Communication (7) – There was good dialogue in this thread, really portraying the characters well and putting everything together nicely. The antagonistic tone of Godric and Vassius’ outburst in reply really set the tone for the entire thread. On the down side, Godric’s cry of “I am death” at the end really seemed dramatically clichéd.

Action (7) – Similar to the communication score, there was a good overall atmosphere for the thread that the action really buoyed and tied together. Where this score lagged was Godric’s spell and killing of Celius, which came across as somewhat muddled. Clearly writing conflict action in a realistic manner can be difficult, but you definitely have a good solid base to build from.

Persona (5) – Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time devoted to truly developing the characters, especially Godric, to earn you a higher score in this area. From what you setup in the first two posts of the thread, Godric appeared to be a patient, malevolent manipulator but at the end, during his escape, he came across as nothing more than a raging, bloodthirsty beast. While it is perfectly reasonable for him to be both, the transition here was executed quickly and without giving a full measure of the character.

Prose: (19)

Mechanics (6) – Despite the handful of grammatical and spelling errors, your use of capital letters to emphasize shouting, while a common thing in certain forums, comes across as unnecessary and jarring when employed in this manner. Emphasis should be added through description rather than by trying to force it.

Clarity (6) – While this thread was generally clear and easy to follow, there were two areas of the story which jarred me out of thread’s flow. The first was Godric’s breakout, specifically the killing of Celius, where I had to go back over the scene to catch the full measure. The second was the final paragraph, which stuck out from the rest of the story because of its short, choppy sentences and different tone.

Technique (7) – The quick nature of the thread really benefitted the overall feel of the story, but the awkwardness of the last paragraph really hindered the thread’s ‘reveal.’ Giving things in the thread a bit more fleshing out and tying things up neatly in a way that was more in line with the rest of the thread’s tone would have helped you out here.

Wildcard: (5)

Total: 65

Godric receives 123 exp and 20 gp.

[Letho]

EXP/GP added.