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View Full Version : Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge



BlackAndBlueEyes
07-13-07, 10:15 PM
Solo, also known as "A Fistful Of Gold"

When one travels on the long road between Underwood and Serenti, they can happen across many a fine establishment. These places serve many purposes and can cater to just about any of your needs; whether you need a bite to eat, a place to stay, or a hard drink to help you forget about that voluptuous elf you dated for a year or two who cheated on you with your half-breed best friend--that bastard.

In particular, roughly a day and a half out of Serenti there sat a pub named The Steel Trident. On the outside, this tavern appeared to be your run of the mill, two-storied place of business; with smoky windows that had green shutters, small cobblestone steps leading up to the old oak door, and a roof thatched out of hay. There was even a sign with the tavern's name burned into both sides of the wood that hung from--what else--a steel, three pronged trident. Inside the bar, one could expect to find more of your average bar fare. Behind the bar, there was an even mix of fine wines, ales, and hard liquors lined on five shelves that stretched from wall to wall. Along the other three walls, there were small, glass encased torches that lit up the place, casting dancing shadows every which way. The numerous patrons were seated at their round stone tables, gleefully intertwining ego, lies, and the occasional half-truth to form tales about the treasures and adventure they had along their travels, each one hoping to out-do the previous storyteller. The people themselves were also an even mix of Coronian races: Humans, elves, dwarves, and the odd orc interspersed here and there. However, there was a small rift in the otherwise positive energy that whizzed around the place.

Madison quietly sat in the corner of this noisy roadside pub in the Coronian countryside. In her current emotional state, she required complete social isolation. But then, why would she seek solitude in your average watering hole? Well, she had discovered years ago that alcohol helped her achieve a state where she'd be able to block out the world and its happenings. And so, the woman in the purple velvet dress casually drowned herself into a state of blissless ignorance in the darkened corner, while the patrons went about their business of making complete asses out of themselves.

A barmaid cautiously approached Madison's table, careful as to not disturb her customer as she set her fifth drink of the night on a damp napkin in front of her, promptly turning around and disappearing back into the crowd without a word once her job was complete. A small amount of condensation was forming on the glass which contained her Bloody Mary as Madison slowly reached inside her satchel, pulling out a small glass vial that contained a deep crimson liquid. Suffering from a slight buzz, the assassin thought to herself as she popped off the cap and poured its contents into her drink. What's the sense of calling it a Bloody Mary if there isn't any blood in it? Her lips tingled in excitement, yearning once more for the taste of blood.

The assassin was in one of her moods again; not just any oridnary brood that could've been spurred by a high-priced and low-quality drink, or maybe a torn hem in her dress, but this was a whole new level of self-loathing and depression. Everyday over the past week or two, the girl had been suffering from the same nightmare. And every time, she woke up in a cold sweat, screaming loud enough to wake anyone unlucky to be within a three inn room radius from her. She closed her eyes as the drink touched her lips, the mixture of vodka, tomato juice, various spices, and blood swirling around in her mouth, sending her taste buds ablaze; one of the few joys she felt that she had left in her life. Her thoughts wandered once more to the recurring nightmare.

BlackAndBlueEyes
07-18-07, 10:17 PM
I'm in my parents' house again, standing all alone in one of the dimly lit hallways--I think it's the one on the second floor. There are doors all around me. My room is behind one of them. But, every time I turn the golden knobs and swing the door open, all I see is mutilated bodies. They are all faces I recognize, for they were all people that me and my brothers have murdered. The people were in the exact conditions as we had left them; several had cuts across their throats, blood still oozing from the open wounds. Others were missing various appendages from the fights they picked with us. Their clothes were torn and rotting, their faces were contorted with anger and vengeance as they sprung at the open doorway to enact their revenge upon me.

I slam the door right before they can reach me, and I make my way to the next door over. Every time I open a new door, it's the same spectacle over and over. The faces of all those people who lost their lives at my hands... And then, I reach the last door in the hallway, expecting to see the same damn faces. But this time, when I turn the knob, the door reveals my three brothers standing in my old bedroom. Justin, Michael, and Trevor, too. They all have sick, twisted grins on their face except for the deceased Trevor, who still had the sword of the person who had slain him jutting out from his chest. It's kind of hard to see what look he was wearing, for he had his crossbow brought up to his face, looking down the sights--directly at me.

Before I can slam the door shut, my dear brother pulls the trigger of his weapon, firing off a thick wooden bolt that penetrates my chest. I stumble back through the doorway, and my back hits a wall. I can feel my life slowly slipping away as I fall to a seated position on the floor. When I look down, all I can see is my blood streaming out from the chest wound. With whatever strength I have left, I lift my head to look at the family that had betrayed me. With another loud click, Trevor sends another crossbow bolt aimed squarely at my forehead. But before the projectile can hit me...

Madison snapped back to reality, letting a small gasp escape between her black lips. She began to have trouble breathing, taking a few moments to attempt to calm down. Quickly bringing her satchel up on her lap, the assassin tore through it, looking for another vial of blood. Realizing that she had poured the last of her stash into her now-politically correct Bloody Mary, her hand shout out like lightning to pick up the drink. Several seconds later, she had guzzled down a good portion of the glass' contents, the slight metallic taste that her own special ingredient added to the mix bringing a small wave of calm over her.

She quietly set her drink back down on the table, leaning back in her chair to let out a deep breath. Her heart rate and breathing had returned to normal. It's only a dream, Madison repeatedly reminded herself. It's only a dream.

It was only a matter seconds before she realized that someone had joined her at her table; her little slice of isolation.

BlackAndBlueEyes
07-26-07, 10:17 PM
From the looks of it, the guy couldn't have been much older than she was. He still had a hint of a baby face, although he was futilely trying to age himself a few years by growing a stubbly beard. Behind the three day growth were well defined features and a smile that implied that he could've been one of the good ol' boys from back home. Under a black bandanna he had a crop of smooth brown hair pulled into a ponytail, and his hazel eyes were sizing Madison up like an old acquaintance. He wore a ratty black cloth shirt underneath a tan leather vest. He wasn't a big person, but by no means thin like she was.

In short, he looked as if he perfectly blended in with the rest of the noisy bunch of inebriated slobs at the Steel Trident. She eyed him for another second, annoyed at the intrusion, and returned to her drink. She could still feel his overly friendly yet piercing gaze fixed on her, and it only served to unnerve her further.

"What," she spat at the man, her voice cold and sharp like the winds of Salvar.

"Hello, Ms. Freebird. You don't remember who I am, do you..."

She half-opened her eyes, taking in another look at the man. "Nope, can't say I do." His voice sounds awfully familiar...

His polite smile unwavering, he said, "It's me, Tyler Navore. We met in Underwood last week about the job offering. I think it's safe to assume that, because we are sitting here tonight, that you've decided to accept the task."

Job offering. The two words brought with them the promises of money and death, and in turn unearthed a tiny memory that was buried beneath a deep layer of a week's worth of alcohol. Madison was slowly remembering her previous encounter with Tyler. It had indeed been a week ago, but it was brief--just a short overview of the task he needed carried out and the order to meet him here on this night. No targets, no leads, and most importantly, no word on the payment... Madison almost turned down the request on the spot, but she was in dire need of something to do--her stash of gold was dwindling.

"Yeah," she replied, "but I want details. Now."

Tyler looked around the tavern, taking a few seconds to respond. "Sure, yeah, but let's go somewheres... quieter. I don't like the idea of talking about something like this with all these people around."

Madison pounded the rest of her drink, the sudden rush of alcohol sending out a small shock through her system. She furiously shook her head to clear her vision and mind as the two weaved their way between chairs and tables to escape from all the noise and smells of the tavern.

The door opened and closed with a creak and a thud, and the two figures now stood in the vast darkness of the Coronian night. The fresh air and lack of inebriated peasants shouting over each other helped to clear her own drink-induced haze as she happened a glance at the nighttime sky. A couple clouds hid the stars that randomly dotted the black sky while the moonlight cast the uninviting shadows of the nearby tree line onto the road. The light reflected off of Madison's pale skin, giving her a ghostly appearance. She ran a hand through her short, black hair, soaking in the peacefulness of it all.

Tyler coughed, breaking the peaceful silence. "Two miles down the road, there's a small town called Vallenhurst. I've rented out two rooms at the inn there for the night. We better get there, it's late and we'll need our rest for our trip tomorrow."

As he began walking down the road towards town, Madison's raspy voice cut through the night. "How about you tell me what's going on?"

Tyler turned his head as he continued walking. "Yes, of course. We'll get to that. But first, we need to sleep. I'll reveal everything in the morning."

Madison clenched her fists, growling in frustration at the thought of coming all the way out here for nothing. She contemplated the idea of merely beating this man within an inch of his life for leading her on like this, but had second thoughts. Tyler was indeed the man who controlled the purse strings, and probably wouldn't enjoy getting his ass kicked by a homely anorexic girl.

Gritting her teeth to suppress her anger, she jogged to catch up with him, her velvet dress flapping in the air with every step.

BlackAndBlueEyes
08-01-07, 02:05 PM
The moon was high as the two walked into Vallenhurst. It was not a large town by any means, but it had all the necessities; a church, a general store, a few taverns, and an inn. The road ran through the center of it all, diving the town in half. The darkened buildings loomed over Madison ominously, causing her to feel a bit uneasy as Tyler silently led her down the road. Oil lamps filled the occasional window with a soft orange glow, signifying that the place wasn't completely dead.

After ten minutes and a few turns off the South Road, Tyler smiled through his exhaustion. "Here we are." The two stopped in front of a small building whose lower floor had the glow from the laps signifying that it was still open. He reached for the knob and opened the door, stepping aside to let Madison through first. Ignoring the act of kindness, she entered into the dimly lit lobby.

She could see an older gentleman sitting behind the reception counter, attempting to keep himself awake by propping his head up with one arm. The light from one of the lamps reflected off his bald head. Madison found a darkened area of the lobby to silently stand in while Tyler approached the man, muttered something, then took two sets of room keys from the old man's frail, shaky fingers.

His footsteps echoing against the wooden floor, he tossed Madison one of the keys. "C'mon, our rooms are on the second floor." Snatching the key out of the air, she followed him up the stairs.

Madison's room was the second one on the left, Tyler's the one just past that. She slid the key into the lock, but was interrupted. Tyler had one arm leaning on the wall, the other hand on his hip. Dryly, he said, "You really aren't the talkative type, eh?"

Her hand still on the key, the assassin looked up, her blank expression telling Tyler more than the common tounge ever could. After a second of continued silence, Madison opened the oak door and stepped into her new momentary home. The moonlight shone bright through the window, revealing that there was nothing more than a bed, a table, and two chairs lined up at opposite ends of the room. It was cheap, definitely, but it beat the living hell out of spending another night curled up at the foot of a tree on the cold, damp grass.

Throwing her traveling satchel on the table across the room, Madison took her boots off and set them at the foot of the bed, allowing her black stocking-lined feet to breathe. They were in pain from the days and days of endless traveling to get to this town; but that was nothing a good night of decent rest couldn't help. She fell backwards onto the bed. Contrary to what she expected by the cheapness of the rest of her room, the bed was soft and comfortable.

Madison was beginning to doze off when the door opened, the light revealing Tyler's head poking through. "Hey."

"What."

The coldness in her voice caused Tyler to hesitate for a second. "I'd like to set out before midday tomorrow. We're still two days out of Serenti, so we have quite a bit of ways to go before we reach our destination."

Madison groaned. No more walking... Please...

The man took the hint, wrapped up his one-sided conversation and excused himself from the room. "In any case, we leave tomorrow. I'll give you all the details of the job over breakfast. Good night, sweet dreams." The door clicked softly, signifying that he was gone for the night.

Sweet dreams... Yeah, right.

As the nighttime silence enveloped the inn room, Madison slowly drifted off to sleep, quietly betting with herself how long it would be before she had the nightmare tonight.