Page 2 of 6 FirstFirst 1234 ... LastLast
Results 11 to 20 of 56
  1. #11
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “Miss?”

    She started awake. The first thing she realised was that her body was exceptionally stiff. Sore and terrible she had aches all over, as if the entire night had been spent cramped in a wooden coffin.

    It was not far from the truth. She was still on the window seat, crouched there and curled into an odd position. Groans came from her beak as she was forced to face the challenges of sleeping there. Opening her eyes and looking around she found Agathe, the housemaid looking at her.

    Quickly she sat up, but was too fast. Instantly she regretted it and her eyes screwed shut with pain.

    “Ahhh,” she groaned, leaning back.

    Agathe paused, blinking a few times in confusion. “Are you … okay?”

    Stare peeked open one eye to see the elf gazing at her confused. The kenku took a moment to think, then thought that telling Agathe that she had been ordered by Vitruvion to sleep the night on the window sill while he used her bed would open herself up the sort of questions she would rather not answer right now. She looked over to the bed and was quite happy to see Vitruvion was not there.

    “Yeah I'm fine, just stiff,” Stare nodded, “I fell asleep … reading.” She gestured at the table near her, which was basically always covered in a book or two.

    “I see …” Agathe said, although she looked unconvinced. “Um … well, yes. We are having trouble with the breakfast Miss. Druss said not to disturb you but … well.”

    Stare grunted and was already getting to her feet. She gestured for Agathe to go on as she stumbled painfully over to her cabinet. “What's the issue I can help with?”

    “Eggs, Miss Stare. Maester Rafael loves them - must have them. The chickens … well it seems they got attacked in the night. Them and a fair few others in the estates around.”

    Stare blinked. Then muttered under her breath. The things she did for people in this life. But this was her life now. Grabbing a finer tunic and a neat belt she strode into her bathroom and began quickly changing.

    “What's the time and is that the only issue?”

    Agathe nodded and spoke louder to get her voice through the door of the en suite. “It is six of the morning hour Miss. And yes, your suggestion to get Marjie has assisted greatly. We have no other problems.”

    Stare groaned quietly, so that only she could hear. Six o'clock. It meant she had barely had four hours of sleep, but there was no possibility of avoiding that. Apparently Maester Rafael liked eggs so much that he could cause chaos to get them. She sighed as she looked at herself in the looking glass, seeing the bedraggled and tired kenku, but this was it. She had no other choice in her life.

    It was eggs or her own bacon. Smoothing down her feathers as best as she could in that limited time Stare grabbed the door and strode out to meet Agathe. The maid smiled at her briefly, and Stare nodded. There were no words, only a mutual understanding as the two of them walked to solve the problems of the nobility.
    Last edited by Stare; 12-12-2017 at 05:33 PM.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  2. #12
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Maester Rafael had to go without eggs that day. And the next few days also. It was a decision that had to be made, purely for the reason that there were no eggs in the city by the same time the next week. A sudden and cruel beast had claimed nearly every chicken's life in the city, stealing their essence for some sick purpose. There were not even some to be bought in the markets, for even though Stare sent Charlie to go and gather some at the break of dawn it seemed all the pubs and inns had got there first. The seventh day brought more strife, and it was up to Stare to confess to Rafael that there was none.

    Vitruvion was another man. His mood change had been sudden but was lingering for some days. He disappeared for an afternoon into the Hollow, leaving Stare with the responsibility to show the official around the city for a few hours. She kept it as formal as she could, introducing the Hernsfordan to Ventrua.

    He came back slightly in a better mood. Once more she found him in her room again as she went up for the night after another long. Utterly, she was spent, and though she was surprised to see him there she said nothing this time. Instead, after closing the door she stood there and looked right at him, not hiding the exhaustion within her.

    It took him long enough to acknowledge her. Nearly a full three minutes, long and tedious as their seconds ticked by, before he looked up from the book he had. His facial expressions spoke of his own frustrations, but this time Stare knew not to ask.

    Not to say anything. Only stand there, hands tense and in loose fists at her side, desperately trying to not fall asleep as she remained upright.

    His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, testily. Yet, he nodded and gestured to the bed. Letting out a sigh she moved, shrugging her tunic straight off before she collapsed into the bed, without covers and without any words.

    Blankets twitched over her. The lantern light in the room was flicked out. Strong arms from a firm body wound around her form and pulled her close without so much as a question. Stare let it happen, because she knew it was him. Her heart thudded but she knew his arms would just hold her - and then stop. An internal sense of trust in her told her that he had no intention to hurt her - not even now in his foul mood. Thus, she let him rigidly hold onto her as she let tiredness sweep over her.

    As she fell asleep to deal with the chicken crisis tomorrow. Bad as the fowl were. Tiresome as they were. Loving of them for breakfast as Maester Rafael was, and deep as the mystery of their disappearance of.

    The mindless, steady slaughter of every chicken, then also duck and eventually any easily accessible background fowl in all the estates for the whole of Beinost and her surroundings world.

    A mystery that was only going to get worse.
    Last edited by Philomel; 01-14-2018 at 09:10 PM.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  3. #13
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “Wait - wait, slow down.”

    She stood before the gardener of Lady Heysan's estate. He was a balding man, with wrinkled and blotchy skin. A wine stain birthmark covered half of his face, and that in some circumstances might have ended with someone staring at him. But Stare … she was used to folk staring at her. She was never going to let a single thing as a birthmark mar her perception of someone.

    The gardener pressed his lips together, shutting himself up. His keen hands gripped the pole of his hoe firmly as he waited for Stare to entirely understand. For about a full minute he had now been ranting at her.

    “So you're saying the killing of fowl in the city started … weeks ago?!”

    He nodded, “Aye mi’lady,” he said in a thick northern accent. “I’ well, i’ ... yeah.”

    Stare blinked, and then let out the gasp that had been building. “Ansaldo's balls above,” she whispered. “When was the first?”

    “Well, yeh ken, there's foxes and aither vermin who’ll ge’ 'em bu’ … firs’ unexplained un … I guess, yeh’d say, fae whi’ I ken … three weeks ago?”

    Three weeks. For three weeks there had been unexpected killings of fowl in the city. Slowly building until a few nights ago when their own on the Elssmith estate had been mercilessly slaughtered in one night. And what was more - their bodies were left. Some had been ravaged, yes, the meat torn off by whatever scavengers and carrion feeders could get to it, but none had ever been dragged away. It was as if some madman had danced through, getting more and more murderous as the nights went on. First, there had been the entire coop on the Flotterby estate, belonging to Lord and Lady Flotterby who's wealth was in farms. Then, the next night the pub Breezy Pint, the houses belonging to the Geldings noble family and the Ocean View suburbs had been subject. It had built up, until one entire district had been hit, and even when the Breezy Pint bought more chickens, they died too. It was an epidemic of strange and eerie proportions, which no one could explain, save for the murmurs of Basilisks.

    But the last time that kind of deadly serpent had been seen here had been decades past. And with the size that basilisks were meant to be it was certain someone would have noticed. The attacks were too sporadic as well, stretched over the whole of the city in a single happening. No wild beast would do that, therefore it had to be either planned, or a truly terrifying new beast.

    “I see,” Stare sighed, feeling the despair. “And you said they were never stolen?”

    “Every body 'ere fae meh to find,” the gardener nodded. “An’ I've seen 'em at neighbourin’ estates, lef’ and righ’.”

    He gestured to either way, indicating the grand houses that peeked over the boundary hedges.

    “I see,” the kenku said softly. She ran a hand through her feathers. “So it is someone or something that attacks … for …”

    “Fae spor’, I reckon,” the gardener nodded.

    The comment made Stare blink. “For … sport?”

    “Aye, cause yeh ken meh reckonin’.” The hands on the how tensed as he leant forwards towards her.

    He paused, and Stare blinked before answering hesitantly.

    “... What?”

    “The attacker ain’t ea’in’ 'em. A’ all.”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  4. #14
    Member

    EXP: 1,875, Level: 1
    Level completed: 94%, EXP required for next Level: 125
    Level completed: 94%,
    EXP required for next Level: 125


    Avin's Avatar

    GP
    235

    Name
    Avin Painbringer
    Age
    18 (when died)
    Race
    Undead Kenku
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Death has such a seductive taste to it.

    Oh yes, in its raw form, when I smell and sense death it is as a dark fog that lingers around creatures and plants, but it is also like burnt meat. Crisp and resting on a fire for too long it sears onto my taste buds on my long, avian tongue and fills me with a pleasant joy. I have come to love the taste and smell of death, it is my achilles heel. For some time now, for the two months that I have been living my second existence, I have developed this lust for it.

    I entirely admit this. But if it can help me bear through the pain of my life, then woe betide anyone who stands between me and death.

    Currently I stood in a field. Fourteen dead rats surrounded me, attacking after I had disturbed their nest. Looking down I surveyed my handiwork and nodded to myself. The pungent smell of death was still fresh, and the blood on my katana and tanto still dripping. I had sweat on my brow, which I found odd, for never had I realised it before that I could do so. I dragged one long intake of breath before slumping down and resting amongst my downed foe.

    Now I could rest back beneath the blue sky, surrounded by the tall golden stalks of a pleasant crop. Part of me was tempted to begin the steady disintegration of the field, but it would cause me copious amounts of pain, and besides that - that side of me I was not proud of. Even if I could rid myself of the agony every time I used my death touch it was not a good thing. The death scent was seductive and made me happy, to ability cause visible rot was not. Who knew what might happen - if I could pass it from one person to another at all? Death was cruel, I knew this for the numerous times my new body had struggled through it already. It was painful. I delivered it quick and instantaneous to beings that did not matter.

    Mere animals. Not beings.

    “Excuse me?”

    I looked over to where the noise came from. Squinting my eyes in the hot and bright sunlight I stared until I found the creature who addressed me. A being, short and a little on the chubby side. If it had not been for his beard I would have conditioned him as a child.

    “Ah,” I noted. “A halfling.”

    I had never seen one before, at least in my clear memory. Only heard of them from Vindrexis Quansaldo, one of my masters and creators.

    The small man was dressed in a long, dark blue robe and had a collar of white. He leant on a staff topped with a small star motif. Of my growing knowledge of religions I reckoned he followed one of the Raiaeran star gods.

    Which made sense, as I was in Raiaera.

    “Erm, yes,” the halfling nodded, curling a lip. “Yes I am. And you are … Not alive. And also on church land.”

    I blinked and tilted my head at him. He could tell I was not alive. Now that interested me.

    Then he gestured around me, at the rest corpses. “You are covered in blood, and there are many rats dead around you. My assumption is that you killed them.”

    Completely willing to admit it, I nodded.

    The priest, for he clearly was one, smiled then. “Then I must thank you, undead bird. You have rid us of a rather rotten pest. Now, come and bathe at my house. It is the least we could do for the man who saved or crops.”

    Looking down at my feathers I saw that indeed, the white of them was stained crimson. For a moment I paused, then I shrugged and agreed. A bath would be good. It would help pass the time until I needed to wait for the trigger of my task that I was sent here for.

    Therefore I got up and followed the halfling to his home.

    And I had a pleasant bath.

  5. #15
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Stare was stressed. Very stressed.

    Right now she was riding as hard as she could, having already been to fourteen estates and that had an interest and money invested into some form of Vitruvion's businesses. All of them were suffering under the weight of the killing of fowl, and two were now relating loss of other livestock. She had already given advice on one business that thrived on its production of eggs and chicken meat, stressing as they suffered panic. She had needed to spend an entire hour going over their books, and assuring them that because of this they would not suffer complete monetary loss. The owner of the business, a Miss Hellin, was an elf who had cried on Stare's shoulder then listened with intent as the kenku had found some form of budgeting that would allow them to buy up other stock temporarily and sell it on with profit.

    Now she was heading to the Offices - Vitruvion's mostly self-sufficient rented buildings that needed no to little management, aside from accounting. They had requested her come to gain news on what was going on.

    She arrived in a flurry of dust, bounding right off Sen's back in a single leap. “Stay there,” she growled at the chocobo who tilted his head and watched his mistress disappear into the large tenement building.

    “Right, what is the matter?” she asked, digging her claws into her palm to stop herself from shaking.

    Because of the fact she had not been able to stop even to eat since five in that morning. It was now three in the afternoon. She had not seen Vitruvion all day, or even been aware of his presence in her mind but her focus was not on him and his bad mood. It was here. Now.

    A short, delicate elf blinked at her from behind a large reception desk which was covered in papers. As Stare strode in she stood up and let out a sigh of relief.

    “Miss Stare! It is utter chaos. The businesses are all at loggerheads as to who has priority over the supplies that are left.”

    “‘Supplies that are left’?” Stare quoted in confusion, ending her journey at the desk.

    The small elf nodded. “Yes, Miss. There has been a lack of supplies to feed the workers here, nothing has come for the last four days. That being my responsibility, I … well. I sent a runner boy to the market but that was in uproar also.”

    Stare paused for a moment. “So they have eaten through the stock room and have nothing for lunch?”

    “Or dinner, Miss. I am sorry to trouble you with such trivial matters but the arguments have accelerated into accusations and-”

    What she wouldn't give for food just now. Nodding, Stare gestured to her.

    “Show me where they are and I will help sort it out.”

    She was shown a main hall, where four men were currently screaming at one another. Two were elves, one was a human and the other was an orc. There seemed to be some form of xenophobia going on for many racial slurs were being bandied around. Sighing deeply Stare marched past the shaking receptionist, and straight into the middle of the men.

    “Right!” she yelled, grabbing the arm of one and pulling him back. “Stop this - NOW!”

    A stunned silence. Many eyes turned to the kenku, and some lips moved but no words came out. They recognised who she was instantly, and awe fell across faces of those who had only heard of but never seen the only kenku in Beinost. The woman who, it was rumoured, had kept the city running in the light of all this chaos.

    “Right,” she nodded to each one of them in turn, glaring and threatening to release her stun stare if she needed to. “Good, you are quiet. Now listen. I will hear each of your worries in turn, starting with the one who comes alphabetically first.”

    “But-”

    “Eh, no!” She put up a hand, cutting off the elf speaker. He frowned but went silent again. To him she nodded firmly. “Right. After that, I will organise for food to be sent here. It will be sparse and basic, but I have already organised a supply line for all the other businesses coming from the north. You can get some of that, and until we can source out the origin of the problem, it is the only thing.”

    She looked from one to the other. “Is that acceptable?”

    There were mumblings. Stare, starting to see hazy lines sucked in her breath and stood straighter. “Sir Elssmith thanks you for your continued support. Now, who is first?”

    And her day continued thus into the night, and on into the next day. Then, the supply train came, with fresh produce and new chickens, which she insisted be kept inside houses and flats.

    Inside. Watched at all times.

    That week, Stare saved a city from disorder.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  6. #16
    Member

    EXP: 1,875, Level: 1
    Level completed: 94%, EXP required for next Level: 125
    Level completed: 94%,
    EXP required for next Level: 125


    Avin's Avatar

    GP
    235

    Name
    Avin Painbringer
    Age
    18 (when died)
    Race
    Undead Kenku
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    “My name is Friar Tomas,” the priest said, leaning back and dropping into a creaky chair. His eyes pierced me as I slowly walked into the hovel after him.

    Humble was one word to describe his home. Small, neat and looking like a shepherd’s hut. It was made of large stones, cemented together and with a thatched roof. Inside were possibly three rooms, and the first was what I had just been invited to. It was a main hall, with a neat little fire and simple wooden furniture. Definitely more hermit than archbishop.

    “Avin,” I grunted my introduction and continued to stand. My hands were gripped around the staff of my naginata, my swords already shoved back into my sheaths. It extended a foot or so behind me as I dragged it.

    The friar smiled a little. “So, undead Avin. You are what … a kenku?”

    I was surprised that he knew my species, especially this far away from Corone. Shrugging a little, I confirmed his thought with a nod.

    “I have a gift to detect how to detect at what state of life people are,” he explained. “If they are ill, tired, dead, undead … a minor gift but one that I can serve with.”

    My brows rose, breathing in sharp. It sounded like my own death sense, except more informative. Quickly I moved, wondering why this man was being so honest with me. I dropped into a seat opposite him, my brow furrowing.

    “How does it show?” I asked.

    Tomas paused, before smiling. “A feeling only, child Avin. You do not need to fear me.”

    I inclined my head, indicating that I did not.

    He watched me for a while before straightening. “I live by my own, serving my god here, the star god Galatirion, and there are individuals who come to aid my farm, to help me clean, and ultimately I give them guidance under the will of the god I serve.”

    Slowly I nodded, familiar with the concept. Sabazios, one of my masters and creators, had a temple of his own, and he was served by mages and priests. It was true that the number of them had been depleted, thanks to Vindrexis’ works, but I recognised the system. Tomas was Galatirion’s representative and likely spoke with him directly.

    “You serve someone, don't you, Avin?” he said softly.

    I paused and stared at him, but he only smiled.

    “Do not worry, I have no qualms with you. After all you did sort my rat infestation that has plagued my crops.”

    “What do you want?” I grunted, suspicious and cautious.

    “Only to be your friend … and to offer you a bath,” Friar Tomas said, a small shrug appearing. “That is all, I mean you no harm.”

    But still I was tense now, fearing of what he knew about me. Clearly he saw my body language and sighed. He shook his head.

    “Go if you must. Continue what you must do, but know, Avin, that there is another path. There always is a more peaceful path.”

    I shook my head as I stood.

    “Only path,” I whispered. “Is death.”

  7. #17
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “She really is quite, quite spectacular my friend.”

    Two great lords stood by the window, framed in its wooden structure. One was tall, pale and had pure white hair that draped over his shoulders. Once, about a year ago, that hair had been a light blonde, but now it had faded, or some might say brightened. The other man was tanned, with dark hair poking from under a orange-red turban and a small smart beard. He wore robes of crimson, whilst the first man had a smart tailcoat suit of dark blue.

    Together they stood as nobles, watching out of the window to the light stoney drive to the front of the house. On it life was in abundance. A near constant trail of horses and carts came in through the gates, coming around to the doorway of the house. There, the horses and carts stopped, only to be set upon by many hands, a handful of the troupe of around a hundred hired hands and volunteers who had offered their services over the past three days.

    At their head, running back and forth was a kenku. Black and dressed in a simple white cotton tunic, she organised every package coming in. The loads were similar in kind - all food and drink from far and wide. Eggs, meats, alcohol, they were designed to supply a city that was verging on chaos simply because their livestocks were facing annihilation.

    A black haired elf came back and forth to the kenku, a sheet of papers in her hand. From her a further eight people were organised. As a delivery came in it would be met by one of these eight, who would take down the details of the cart or horse bearer, and what they had brought. This would then be steadily unloaded, and an eventual payment given by the kenku.

    “You said it took her three days to organise this?” Rafael looked to Vitruvion, arching his brow.

    The god took in a breath and passed Rafael a goblet. He nodded, though his face did not smile, it lined with angst.

    “Yes.”

    “My friend, she is incredible. No wonder you are so determined to keep her.”

    Vitruvion kept his eyes on Stare, who was currently trying to negotiate with a man who had brought in three cagefuls of chickens. He seemed to be disagreeing with how much money they had determined, and she was calmly trying to show him a signed piece of paper.

    He lowered his drink. “You are not getting her from me, if that is what you are asking.”

    Rafael rose his brows, watching his own slave woman, Guilia, talking with a deliverer who had just stopped his mules. She had asked Rafael's permission the previous day to help, and had been assigned as one of the eight.

    “I do not need her, but if she was for sale I would definitely put in a bid. Indeed,” he took a swig of his wine. “I think you undervalued her to me.”

    “Hmm? What do you mean?” Vitruvion glanced to the official.

    Rafael smiled. “Remember that all Hernsfordan slaves are given a standing from one to five. Also known by their colour standards - Bronze, Silver, Gold …”

    “Mythril, Adamantine, yes, the last being very exceptional,” Vitruvion agreed.

    “And I rated your little bird there at a Mythril from the information you gave me,” the Hernsfordan looked right at his old friend. “And when I first came here, I was convinced of that. But seeing this, seeing her …” Rafael shook his head in disbelief and jabbed a finger at Stare. “That my friend is a jewel amongst jewels. Not only is she a rare breed, but she could also said to be beautiful, very highly and adaptively skilled and by what you have told me about her magic, a very special item. By the gods, I don't know where you found her, but if my deductions and experience are anything she's definitely Adamantine. And I've maybe seen a maximum of ten ever go for sale, in all my forty years in the business.”

    Slowly Vitruvion tipped back his goblet, his eyes focusing on Stare. For a long time he said nothing, his eyes only filling with a knowing light. Rafael kept watching him, a smile on his lips, and leant against the window frame.

    “She's saved an entire city from possible chaos, Vitruvion, even possible starvation. I know your agreement with her is to keep it silent, but I cannot help let you know my friend. Tying in what we have talked about this week, what you have managed to make her … she would be one of the most expensive slaves I have ever known,” he paused, and stared at Vitruvion. “I hope you know this. Stare is … one of a kind.”

    The god breathed in slowly, lowering his goblet. Tenderness filled his eyes, and for a single moment he was not the angry, frustrated man who had been dealing with what seemed like hell.

    “I know,” he murmured. “And she is all mine.”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  8. #18
    Member

    EXP: 1,875, Level: 1
    Level completed: 94%, EXP required for next Level: 125
    Level completed: 94%,
    EXP required for next Level: 125


    Avin's Avatar

    GP
    235

    Name
    Avin Painbringer
    Age
    18 (when died)
    Race
    Undead Kenku
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    I sat on a hill overlooking the city.

    A smile was in my eyes as I thought about the feast I had been able to have these last few days. The way that the death scent called to me, been seducing me, my fight had gotten more and more powerful every night.

    For I was a killer of epic proportions now. I had been sent here to cause panic, and I had done it well, within my own understanding and guidelines. I had satiated my hunger for death, at the same time as sticking to my own morals of separating being from beast. I had acted sporadically and led up to this point over the last three weeks, accelerating my killing until they needed to bring in outside supplies. Over that time I had killed every last chicken and almost all ducks.

    Now I watched their caravans of trade, seeing them head down few pathways and merging into one. I could not see precisely where they headed but I could watch and let myself be satisfied that I had fulfilled my orders to create panic.

    In that light I was determined to let this be my last night of killing. Tonight I would wage war and slaughter a hundred pregnant horses and cows whom I had already marked out. With that I would receive double the satisfaction of death as both mother and child bled to the sound of my blades.

    Sighing with the thought I lay back, and considered Friar Tomas. He had found me during one of my days outside of the city and offered a unique perspective on life. A halfling hermit who served an elvish god, a man who had gifts akin to my own. He had offered me kindness and I had escaped when he came too close to telling me what I did not want to hear.

    But his heart had been in the right place.

    My life was strange and confusing. I did not know what to think of what I had done, of it was termed right or wrong in the general morality of the world. For I was right in the fact I had obeyed the orders of those I had dedicated my service to. Those who I was certain now knew the way of things and how they should be. Because they had to be right. They had to be. I would not have been brought back in such a manner if they were wrong.

    They had to be.

    The sun was setting. Slowly the sky went from pale blue into inky darkness and I found myself sighing, wishing for a moment I had another choice. Another way to live my undead existence … maybe Friar Tomas could give me another chance.

    But the world was as it was. I was Avin, the white kenku, death incarnate, servant of Vindrexis Quansaldo and Sabazios.

    I was a dark shadow, destined to end lives.

    Created to end lives.

    My only path was death.

  9. #19
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Exhausted she stumbled into the house yet again. For almost forty hours she had been awake, and in that time she had likely saved the city. So little food had passed by her beak, much water and some alcohol that a surprisingly (for once) non-bitchy Mer had forced into her hand. Wine, spare dried meat, and bread had been her sustenance through the days and night and now all was quiet. The suppliers had all gone, the food and drink shared out amongst the estates and establishments to the extent that she determined according to their needs. Arguments had eschewed of course, but these she had sorted out with a few minutes of careful diplomacy.

    “I should run for office on the council,” she muttered to herself as she shut the door to the dark, dark sky behind. Night again, and this one she was determined to sleep through.

    Stifling a yawn Stare started towards the stairs, her eyes very briefly glancing to an old clock on the shelf under the portrait of Vitruvion as a soldier with Blaud the owl. It was just past midnight which meant most of the house would be in bed. Maybe just Rafael up, or Mrs Deerling preparing food for tomorrow.

    Her claws clicked lightly on the wood as she made her way over to the stairs, body weary and in desperate need of sleep. Rubbing at her eyes she found herself uneasy and feeling the lines of stress. It was at that point she noticed one of the dining room doors was slightly ajar, with light coming from the gap.

    Then a voice.

    “Stare? If that's you, can you come in here please.”

    His voice. Her weary mind cried out for mercy, with a desperate plea to sleep. “Pity!” it yelled, “Pity!”

    Sighing long and low she turned, blinking hard to try to find some new source of energy. After all she had been readying herself for sleep, finally. And thus she had been slowly coming to a sense of rest. Now though, now she needed to wake up.

    It occurred to her then that he could see into her mind and so there was no point in putting on a pretence of alertness. So he would see she was exhausted - so what? He was … him. She tried to pull herself together and straighten, making some form of effort to look presentable.

    She pushed open the door and was very happy to see it was just Vitruvion. He was leaning back in a seat, booted feet on the table and gazing at the portraits of himself. Stare saw a lack of enthusiasm in his own eyes, a weariness that contradicted how he had been acting this past week.

    “My lord?” she murmured politely, not daring to risk the use of any other tone or words.

    There she remained at the edge of the room.He did not look at her, but rather remained where he was, looking up with near sadness of his past lives.

    “From now on you are not to mention the name of Hugin ever again,” he said quietly. “I would have you relate this to the others of the household who know who he is. He owns a few shops.”

    Stare nodded a little, her brow creasing, confused but not having the will to start a conversation that could go on.

    “I should say 'owned,’” he muttered, grabbing a goblet from the table and gripping it with cold malice. “I've kicked him out the Hollow and the city. He had the obstinate selfishness to keep all of his food and supply to himself, his whole six months of provisions when others were starving,” he spat, disgusted. “That and I have had enough of his nonsense. He managed to kill Reign.”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  10. #20
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Stare's eyes went large. Suddenly she was awake far more than she had been in the past hour as horror swept through her. Hugin, the old rival of Vitruvion had ended Reign's life. She, princess of the pixie folk, who Vitruvion had captured for his own initial amusement in the hell hole sex slave nightmare called the Hollow. Hugin had taken a shine to her and the two 'brothers’ had shared her for a while before Hugin began to take liberties and actually moved her to his quarters. Now he had killed her, likely by rape or torture, Stare was sure, and committed a terrific crime of not feeding the city when he could have.

    Her beak halves opened as she gazed at Vitruvion in shock. No wonder why the human form-bound god had been so mad the last few days …

    No wonder.

    “Ansaldo's great tiny balls,” she whispered.

    “Hmm,” Vitruvion grunted, eyes still dark. “That and I have found a pattern in the killings. I need you to help me tonight try to find the culprit and stop them.”

    Stare blinked. Tonight? But all she wanted to do right now was sleep for a hundred years.

    “To-tonight?” she replied aghast. “You mean …”

    “Now,” he grimly nodded. “I don't have Raevin as he is in Corone, so instead I need you. You will take one side where I believe the being or beast comes in and I will take the other. Together we will hunt them, following what we find. I do not want to cause too much hassle so will not let anyone else get involved.”

    Stare swallowed and stared at him. Her beak worked and she was gaping in silence for a while before she shoved her utter exhaustion at the forefront of her mind and began to desperately stutter.

    “Vitru- sir. My lord. Please. I need to rest. I haven't stopped for - for - for,” she began to feel apprehension and anxiety, her heart beginning to race. Swallowing, she tried to find herself, to find her plot and train of thought, raising a hand to drag it through her feathers. “I am - can't -” her eyes looked around wildly. “I'm absolutely no use to you like this. I can barely stand, I-”

    “Stop,” he sighed.

    Then one moment he was in the chair, the next he was - not. She blinked, thinking she had maybe gone mad. It would make sense in the circumstances. Her brow tried to furrow but it was already too high in stress and she began to try to look around, desperate …

    Smooth hands slid around her from the back, one around her waist, the other just under her arms above her breasts. They were rigid and powerful, having no hesitation in their destination. As Stare felt herself on the verge of tears a strong, firm frame appeared behind her, giving a support for her weak limbs. The hands and their arms encircled her body until they were wrapped around her completely, and pinned her with no hope for escape against the body.

    Her breathing was still irregular but her heart began to slow, steadying until the familiar - Ansaldo's balls, it was familiar now - hold took over her. She felt his chin chin come to rest on her head, a slow breath easing from him. From his chest being so close she could feel his calm heartbeat and hers began to match it, on point and exact until the perfectly synchronised.

    Boom, boom, boom …

    And then she felt the flow of energy begin.

    At first it was a trickle, but then it built. Focused, genuine strength moving into her body. It was just a tingling feeling at the start, that danced in her fingertips. Then it was a tickle, a soft vibration that hummed up her arms. Then her toes were filled with a little hope, her ankles, calves and knees, and it flowed up her appendages and into her torso, where she breathed deeply. Heavily. But not gasping. Never gasping.

    Up the energy went into her shoulders, where it meet her neck. Swallowing she felt a warm sensation running down her throat before she tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Then - and only then did the brilliant flow spread up, right up until it was in her mouth, nose, ears, eyes, crown …

    Feathers.

    She opened her eyes, her body suddenly now humming with energy like it had been the day she was born. Pure, divine power was living in her, granted by the genuine source of it in the first place - her god. As she was released she was grateful to find it was all still there, inside her and now she was awake, no longer shaking. She was …

    “Ready?” he whispered.

    Her bright, awake eyes beamed at him.

    “Yes, I am,” she said with determination.

    And it was the honest truth.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •