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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Restless Spirit; For Tsuki | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 22 2009, 09:53 PM (160 Views) | |
| Andromalius | Apr 22 2009, 09:53 PM Post #1 |
King of the Sexy Guys
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The soft and longing eyes of the Devil's bride stretched over his subconscious like the tangled arms of lovers. She was there every time he closed his eyes, blatantly so. There was no creature in the world capable of twisting a man's heart so wholly but a woman. Her curves danced against an obscure backdrop of chapters upon chapters of a dead man's living days. Each memory found was cast aside and ignored, for he could not tear his attention away from this sadistic nymph who, even now, called his name though she was long gone from his physical realm. Oh... what it would be like to touch her skin again, to taste the sweetness of her poisonous lips... Something happened, something big, to take a soul and thrust into it the undieing will to cast the shadow of destruction upon all living things. Something forced this soul awake from a supposedly eternal slumber. No... he would never find peace. He could not. Was incapable. A flash of white-hot light, then pain, the kind of pain you wouldn't wish upon your truest enemies, the kind that left one so scorched and decrepit that nothing could save one from attempting to consume one's self to death. Alas, not even death would allow him to linger. Or rather, he writhed in such agony that death itself could not keep him. A wail so chilling and shrill it could make your skin fall from your bones rang out against the stormy ridges of the Do'Suul. A restless spirit was aching madly. Andromalius awoke to find himself contorted against the sheets, both uncomfortably hot and cold at the same time. His otherwise silken, snowy locks lay plastered to his body from the cold sweat coating him. His back arched to the ceiling still, his head spun, dizzy from the memories fading so quickly he could not grasp at a one. Every time he slept was as such. Another disturbing day had passed, another potentially promising night had surfaced. The Banshee slowly lowered himself back against the sheets, panting to catch his breath, shredded fabric from the linen set beneath his nails. His legs were cast to the side quickly, the rest of him rising to sit along the edge of the bed, his head falling into his hands. ...Where was he? Ah yes... that's right. This place. The place before his dreams. The cavity within his chest burned still. How frustrating it was that he never could recall what always seems to stir him so. The mage recovered quickly, blasting from the palm of his left hand a black light beam out of anger. It collided with the stone wall, making yet another notch within his chambers of another disgruntled waking. He gnashed his teeth, eyes ablaze with the raw fury pumping through his rotten veins. A heavy sigh released some stress after he realized there was still nothing he could do about these nightmares. That would never change. Best start the day instead of brooding around for the next few hours. Rising to stand, he fetched a humble black robe from the floor and adorned himself, not caring enough to close it, but instead left his personal chambers and meandered down the spiraling staircase about as slow as a crippled dwarf. Dreams have such influence, he noted. Everyone dreams, right down to the most insignificant insects. He found others' seldom to be as wrought with intense hate, pain, and anger as his own. Still, they could be amusing at times... "...I wonder what she dreams of..." he muttered, peeling his hair back off his throat now that he had his perspiration under control. Why not take a little peek? To the fourth floor he trekked, the same cavernous room he had been locked inside for so long. Taking his place in the center, he sat down and crossed his legs, laying a hand upon each knee. From this room, he dove into the subconscious of the only other living he had any interest in at all: the illustrious Sphynx. He tarried there for a while, watching the intriguing displays pass, until he came upon a new face, one belonging to a sickly-looking fellow. The scene that followed was concerning. There was potential here, something he didn't believe he would simply allow. All he needed now was a name... Lingering there long enough, he found one. It was a Necromancer by the name of Tsuki. Hours later into the night, after spending some time doing nothing at all, he closed his robe, snagged up a cloak, and summoned an elemental for his coach. World domination could wait. This could not. It was surprisingly easy to find him, and luckily, it seemed he wasn't too far away. Asking around led him to a general destination. After that, it was simply a matter of following his nose and that scent she, too, carried with her, the scent of undead. He reeked. Soon plains turned to forest as he crossed the Sotian border. He called off the summon and began on foot, feeling his target would be close. "Tsuuuukkkiiiiiiii!" he chirped, his voice, though not loud, infiltrating the surrounding area for a great distance. The hood of his cloak was drawn, a deep and swallowing thing. Set in its gape was the skull of a buck, two intense black eyes staring out from within the empty sockets. He was a vision of death, to be sure. "Tsuki... Where are you, you little buttercup of abounding joy... I've come to play with you..." |
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| Tsuki | Apr 25 2009, 01:59 PM Post #2 |
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The Undeadophile
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A raven was perched comfortably on one of the thick-boughed trees. She would not have thought much of the creature moving swiftly through the surrounding perennials if not for the fact that she recognized the name it uttered. Beady black eyes swivelled with an equally dark head, watching the one pass beneath her. The raven was very still as she waited for the man's form to retreat further into the forest. When the avian deemed that there was enough space between them, she took flight, darting through the trees like a silent wraith. Tsuki crouched several hundred feet down from the falls, along the river's edge. The darkness that surrounded him was a comfort, as was the close-knit feeling the forest provided. Several days ago he had abandoned his trek along the neutral Kaadian Way, choosing to wander into territory belonging to what was now called Soto. He knew nothing of the nations or what they stood for beyond that there were three of them on the continent that had always been called Soare. Perhaps these nations had always existed - the elf wasn't entire sure, as he had never really paid any heed to them. What he did know now, however, was that the former gods - gods like Neriasis - had fallen, leaving the world to its own devices. Anarchy was likely to ensue. But Tsuki didn't believe in that sort of thing; the only god he needed was Fate, and he refused to give Her that much credit. Sensitive ears picked up sounds unfamiliar to the forest. Despite his hearing, which was significantly better than most others', he could not quite make out what the voice had said. Standing, the necromancer could feel his entire body tensing, a calculated wariness overtaking him. His long, thin digits strayed to the knife at his waist, the long, curved silver blade a menacing thing in the pale moonlight. He slid it from his belt, carefully, cautiously, and held it as if it might bite. Knowing that the voice was not too near yet, he slipped into Death, feeling a sudden cold overtake him. The night itself was chilly, but Death was even more so. It took only a moment for him to analyze the situation. Here, so far away from civilization, there were very few, if any, skeletons at his disposal - at least, human ones. Feeling a vague surge of annoyance at lacking any proper creatures, the necromancer sought out more beastial ones. Gathering eight souls of the dead, he called upon the skeletons that were matched to them and, with an iron fist, fused them together. From the ground eight creatures arose, and Tsuki returned to the world of the Living. Ice melted from his hair and eyelashes as heat seeped back into his body. The summoning of creatures was the difficult part - controlling them was relatively easy, especially for weak souls. Animals were easier to control than humans, and humans than those ancient creatures from days bygone. As the skeletons, at an unvoiced call, amassed around him, Tsuki was mildly pleased with his work: Two young bucks had risen, two birds, a doe, a fox, a squirrel, and a raccoon. Most would not have been able to tell from the mere bones of those creatures, but from the nature of their souls it had been easy. He knew that they would not offer much protection, but at least it was something. Tsuki heard rather than saw Taiyo as she banked in the sky, lighting gently upon his cold shoulders. She screeched loudly, her head cocked towardst he direction of her master's stalker. It was now that Tsuki could hear the other's voice clearly. Apprehension flickered in his ruby eyes. He didn't say a word as the other, fast-approaching, drew nearer. There was no running now. |
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| Andromalius | Apr 27 2009, 01:17 PM Post #3 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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"Tsuki!" At last, the screech of the Banshee rose above all other noise, the forest's canopy crawling, coming to life as masses of birds took flight from the sudden shock. The dark eyes belonging to the darker soul surveyed the area once more. There was a sudden shift in dark energy. He was close - close enough that the mage could feel his magic. At long last, his feet arrived at the edge of the cliffs from which the river barreled down. Far below, he could only make out the shadows of movement. His robes whipping furiously at the changing air pressure at just the correct spot, he could almost strike himself with the knowledge that he knew a fast way to reach the bottom, but had yet the necessary power. Just jumping would be far too unintimidating. He'd have to go the long way. So, the wraith turned and vanished just as he had appeared. Andromalius discovered an area which would be quick to climb down from, but no so graceful in the process. He took it, preying he was far away enough from anyone's sight not to damage his reputation and the future, regal ruler. Boots hitting the rocky ground, he emerged from the treeline close to the rival necromancer, idly fingering the spear leashed to his back to assure its placement. "Finally!" huffed the buck's skull of a mask. "The journey here probably hasn't even been worth the trouble." After dusting himself off, he gave an uninterested glance to the risen dead animals, then to the reason for his being here. "Anywho... Greetings!" the Banshee's arms outstretched, fingerless gauntlets hiding all but the paper white of his carpals and the sheen of the talons at the tip. "I oblige you to put away your toys. I've come for talk. You and I have a mutual acquaintance, you see. You give me a little bit of information, and I'll leave you be." Whether or not that was the truth, even he didn't know at the moment, though the urge to kill this cretin was currently overpowering the tiny inkling he had to let him go unscathed. |
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| Tsuki | Apr 27 2009, 08:50 PM Post #4 |
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The Undeadophile
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Tsuki watched the eccentric newcomer warily. The appearance, the mannerisms, they didn't match up, nor were they a source of fear to the necromancer. Who this person was, how he knew where the elf had drifted to was a mystery, but it was not one that Tsuki wished to pursue. It wouldn't have been particularly difficult - any who had seen him enter the forest and knew anything about him would have been able to provide the location. His hands flexed around his dagger as the other extended his arms outward, as if greeting a brother or a close friend. The skull of a mask disproved this feeling of friendliness and the elf remained wary, retreating one step backwards. Trust did not come easily to him and hadn't for many, many years. "Greetings," came the reply from the elf. His creatures tightened around him defensively and he shook his head. "Do we now? My creatures will continue to stand as they are, thank you. It is no slight against you - I simply prefer to have them at my disposal if necessary." The necromancer failed to mention that he felt that there was more tied to this apparent acquaintance than the other was revealing, or that there would never be a shared trust with this other. In fact, he had no intentions of letting his guard down for even a moment - in general there was more to this entire scenario than was being said aloud. "What is it, precisely, about this 'acquaintance' that you wish to discuss? I am not certain what information I could provide to you, however. I am sure I know almost as much as you do - you may even know more than I." Blood-red eyes were calculating. Ever fibre within Tsuki's body was tense, as if the other might spring forward. There was always that danger, of being caught in a physical fight. |
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| Andromalius | Apr 29 2009, 12:14 PM Post #5 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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"...No. This would be one of the rare occasions that I am in the dark this time, Tsuki. This I know, for there is no one in all of Elenlond that is so close to Sphynx, yet knows nothing about her." By close, he meant sharing a tower with her, but that was a bit he didn't intend on oralating to a potenial adversary. The mage took three bold steps towards the mass of undead critters, seemingly unphased by their existance. "Where are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself." White fingertips crawled over the bone mask, stripping his face of it with an elegant flourish leading directly into a graceful, low bow. "My name is Andromalius." The infinitely black eyes set into the ghost's face peered up at the necromancer, a grim smirk stretching his lips from ear to ear. Rising again to his full height, he knocked the hood of his cloak back, displaying the tresses of snow he wore today half-up with his long bangs floating against his face. A few more steps were taken, practically standing right beside the weak summons of deer and rodents. Behind him, beneath the cloak, a hand wrapped itself around the lance, loosing it. It sliced through the air above his head before the blade tip stopped. Its reach was intimidating, as it landed somewhere just before Tsuki's face, hovering with the threat of lunging forward to decapitate him. "Pray tell, what is your relationship with the lady? Please, no lies. It will make things considerably worse for you, and your summons are no match for me." To exact his point, his free hand shot out a black light which hungrily consumed the buck at his side. The Banshee tilted his head just slightly, looking on with subdued curiosity and eagerness as to the Elf's answers. |
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| Tsuki | May 2 2009, 02:46 PM Post #6 |
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The Undeadophile
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If Tsuki's second shirt had not concealed most of his throat, the hard swallow that followed the lance appearing in front of his face would have been quite obvious. He knew that his summons here were near useless - they were weak forest creatures, capable of causing harm only insofar as what they had with them - namely talons, a sharpened beak, horns. There really was nothinig advantageous about them - at least, not in this instance - and there was nothing he could do to change that. The weight of the situation only flitted briefly across his face. It was always a blessing that his countenance remained devoid of emotion in situations like these; it kept the tingling fear that stretched down his spine unknown to the enemy. And indeed, Andromalius was an enemy. He also wasn't surprised to discover that the apparent acquaintance they both shared happened to be Sphynx. She seemed to have a knack for attracting the darker types, the ones you wouldn't want to be caught in an alleyway with, because it probably meant that you were either dead, or were about to be dead. That Andromalius was seeking him out due to his relationship with Sphynx... Well. That was certainly interesting. Thoughts of their encounter on the Kaadian Way returned to his mind. Since that meeting he hadn't forgotten what she had said, nor had he had mere idle thoughts about it all. Still, as far as he could tell this Andromalius was merely being paranoid, overprotective, and domineering. Tsuki's dagger rose as he gently pushed the lance aside, taking several steps backwards in order to increase the distance between them again. He knew that the apathetic quality of his voice would not give any indication of his true feelings, but he did hope that this other would accept his words as the truth anyway, as that was indeed what they were. If not... Tsuki could only begin to imagine how quickly and how ugly the situation would become. "Sphynx and I have no relationship beyond overly acquainted acquaintances. We have met perhaps three, four times. We are merely fellow necromancers to one another, two people who share a love for the same art. We have hardly spoken and indeed, do not see each other more than once in a blue moon." He deliberately failed to mention that one of those times had involved a dance and that one of the others had involved a serious conversation. It was likely a stupid thing to have done - to have omitted what those meetings had been about - but it also wasn't any part of Andromalius' business. If he wanted to know, he could just as easily speak to Sphynx. Was he her new pet? Someone she was toying with now that one of her secrets was out and about in the world? There was no need to lie here, as there was nothing between them. But would that be enough for Andromalius? |
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| Andromalius | May 6 2009, 01:52 PM Post #7 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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As the lance was delicately pushed aside, the mage remained stone still. Only his eyes held any motion as the dark pupils followed the Necromancer carefully, a dry grin hesitantly deciding to distort his face. If the lad were lieing, he couldn't tell. It made plenty of sense. To dream of another person, that person need not be anything more than an acquaintance, as the subconscious tends to throw up the most ridiculously random things. "Very well then," he chirped, drawing his long pointy weapon back. It spun over his head with a graceful expertise and landed at his side, the bottom of the staff digging into the ground. "I believe you. In any case, you would have to be some remarkable person to get any closer to her. It makes sense." A white hand rose to idly scratch at his chin as his eyes did one more examination of the one before him. Should he leave? Depart with this fellow unharmed and in tact? Perhaps he would be an ally later. ...Ah, but with weak spells such as raising forest critters to do his bidding... No. His army had no room for such weakness. Then, what about information on his Sorceress? No... He could not take the words of anyone else on this matter. He would have to learn first-hand. So, really, the fellow before him had become virtually useless. Excellent. "That is all I wanted to know. I will leave you now, hopefully never to meet again. Have a good night." The mage turned, taking a few steps back into the direction he had come, seemingly a man of his word ...until his left hand rose, back still to Tsuki. A soft red light encased it for a split second before it darted through the bones of the doe to cling to the Necromancer. Not a half a second later, the Banshee was in the air, a spinning black pole above his head barreling down with the blade tip flying towards his enemy's shoulder. A spell of Pain directly before a strong frontal attack. He had been itching to kill for quite some time now. Days. He could not suppress the urge forever. |
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| Tsuki | May 8 2009, 02:35 PM Post #8 |
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The Undeadophile
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Had the closing of their meeting not been so peculiar - Andromalius had, after all, arrived armed with his weapon pointed at the necromancer's face - he would have thought nothing of it. As it was, however, tension began to stir within him and his fingers flexed, gripping the dagger as if that might prevent what was to come next. The moment the fiend turned and held out his hand, however, the damage was already done. As the red glow from the spell lit his face and the crimson eyes there widened, the casting struck. It took everything he had to force his body to the side as the other leapt forward and brought his lance down in a vicious arc. Tsuki managed to throw himself to the side, panic overtaking his mind. Taiyo took to the skies, screaming shrilly. The remainder of the forest creatures, by some unseen command, lunged towards Andromalius. They were weak creatures and the fiend would undoubtedly destroy them as he had destroyed the buck, but it was a distraction, and that was all it was meant to be. Dropping to the earth, his legs gave way, and Tsuki forced, with all his might - the grinding of his teeth was audible against the muted sounds of living forest creatures - himself back to his feet and staggered backwards, the dagger held out, as if it would somehow protect him. Andromalius had only managed to tear through the cloth of his overshirt, sparing his flesh any wounds that could bleed. Bruising was unknonw. Gasping, there was a vehement glare in the elf's eyes. "Coward." The word was spat as he staggered backwards, wracking his brain. Out in the middle of nowhere... Nothing but small forest critters... He couldn't even feel a creature with power out here... Whether Tsuki was thought to be a weakling or not he didn't much care. In truth, he was physically, but if they had been somewhere else... Perhaps the tables would have been turned. "If you had come here to kill me, then why not do so before, when you could have punctured my countenance with your weapon and most certainly slain me? Why not then? I think I would have preferred that, as opposed to this blatant blindside." He stumbled several more steps backwards, gritting his teeth against the pain. There was worse than this, far worse. If Andromalius successfully landed a hit... Well, he was good as dead then. Yes, he had survived a stabbing in the past, by the graces of she whom they called the Earth Goddess, now likely fallen, but what were the chances that Fate would save him a second time and spare his life? The odds weren't very favourable. |
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| Andromalius | May 8 2009, 03:07 PM Post #9 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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The blade of the lance hit the ground with a hard smack, breaking the twigs that laid below and sending the fallen leaves into the air. The mad attack had loosed his hair enough so that the long tresses of snow wily drifted across his aggressive features, the black eyes blazing with three-hundred years of pent-up frustration. The lance dragged back to its master, who meanwhile stared at Tsuki as if he were some kind of experiment. When the critters sprang to life, they were demolished one after the other, the big ones first, leaving the bones of the raccoon to climb on his back when he was distracted. The poor thing didn't stand a chance either as the mage idly glanced over his shoulder at it and blasted it apart with a violet laser beam from his left pinky finger. "Coward?" he peaked a brow at the accusation, returning his attention to the elf as the lance drifted back down at his side. "Heheh... no... there was no fear in what I have done. No honor, either, true, but such an idea is far too silly for a spirit such as myself. I didn't kill you before-" he sighed, playing with the locks of his hair between his fingers, "-because I wanted to enjoy causing you harm. I want to see you squirm, simply. ...Much like you are doing now. Go ahead. Call it unfair. It won't change what your nerve endings are picking up on, or the fact that a little spell like that has such an effect on you..." Andromalius took a few light steps around, turning his back to the Necromancer, only to return a moment later with his hand cupping his white shin. "Something is missing... What could it-- AH yes! of course!" The round end of the lance came bareing down to Tsuki's stomach. "Screaming!" This would surely hurt ten fold, considering the pain spell which acted as the amplifier for more pain. "You seem to mistake me for someone who has a moral code, Tsuki." |
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| Tsuki | May 9 2009, 12:27 PM Post #10 |
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The Undeadophile
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"Cowards do not have to be those who flee in fear. Cowards are those who do not fight fair, those who take the lives of others through trickery and deceit. You are a coward, and forever shall you be." The carnage around them was ignored. All across the base of the falls bones were strewn, some broken apart into a dozen more pieces than they should have been, others simply scattered. What belonged to what, and what should have been pieced together was no longer obvious. Tsuki's breathing was laboured as he prepared himself for the onslaught. Andromalius had turned away once - doing so again almost guaranteed that the so-called mage would likely strike a second time. As the blade came down again, Tsuki attempted to throw himself backwards. He succeeded only marginally, reducing the damage done, but not avoiding it. As it tore through his sensitive flesh he did everything he could to keep himself from screaming. A strangled, repressed cry tore from his throat. In the forest it echoed for miles. Gasping for air, the necromancer staggered backwards. His entire body was aflame with pain. As the first spell continued to do its work, he dropped to his knees, clutching at his stomach. Blood appeared between his gloved fingers, dripping to the earth in torrents unnatural for a normal creature. Blood bubbled to his throat, spilled into his mouth, over the edge of his lips, down his face. Choking, Tsuki spat it out. In his eyes there was a mixture of shock and hatred. Body wracked by convulsions, he eventually fell forward before becoming still. The raven, who had previously lit from her master's shoulders, did not try to attack the attacker as was her wont. Instead, somehow knowing that the situation was utterly futile and that if she endeavoured to fight the fiend all hope would be lost, she had darted into the forest, her wings beating quickly. She did not scream nor cry out as her dark wings bit into the forest air with a speed unknown to many creatures. In a way her movements seemed frantic, desperate as she launched herself deeper and deeper into the Erth'netora. Darting below a bough and then through the leafy mass of another, Taiyo searched for anyone - anything, even - that could save her master's life. Although she had not seen the final blow dealt, she had heard the broken cry. Time was ticking and the clock was missing half its face. |
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| Andromalius | May 9 2009, 02:25 PM Post #11 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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"That's not a scream!" his weapon slid up against his back, latching onto its sheath. "This is a scream:" The Banshee filled his lungs with a great breath, then bellowed out into the wilderness with a shrill shriek capable of popping the ears of anyone for a distance, truly a supernatural and jarring sound that anyone could go their entire lives without enduring. It lasted for a good ten seconds, rattling the trees, before it fell and died. "You are welcomed to call me a coward,then," he said after a moment, his voice soft and cool, "for trickery and deceit are my favorite." It ceased to be an insult when it had anything to do with him, such was the nature of this evil seed. Looking down on Tsuki, marveling at his work, he gave the Necromancer one last smirk. The hate in his eyes was exhilarating. He had really damaged the lad ...and he didn't feel even a bit upset about it. All he felt at this moment was joy, pure and unbridled, at the mess he had made. "Ooh, my, that's a lot of blood. You should get yourself looked at," was his last comment as he noted how all movement from his body had ceased. He idly wondered if, when he healed, this Tsuki character would come after him for revenge. If anything, it just made this ghost's unlife a little more interesting. With that, he made a final turn and disappeared back into the woods, satisfied by a body well maimed, though it was hardly a challenge. The faint red glow of his spell faded away with the spirit, leaving Tsuki dieing and alone, picture perfect, the poster boy for hapless victims everywhere. |
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| Liron | May 21 2009, 10:05 PM Post #12 |
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lol pacifists.
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(OOC: *dies* Why this took so long, I will never know. SORRYITSUCKSSOBADLY. Especially the ending. >> I sort of wrote the second half in fifteen minutes. ) There was something wrong. The unnatural stillness in the air, the absence of birdsong and squirrel chatter....even the unobservant wanderer would have noticed it, that obvious were the signs. For Liron, who'd been born and raised around leafy shrubs and towering trees, the difference cut at him like a knife, prickling his senses and making him more wary than usual. Instead of feeling calm, serene, he felt unsafe and skittish, a newborn fawn lost in the wilderness. It would have been a good idea then for him to do an about-face and head back to town, where it was loud, crowded, and at least filled with life. Though it might also be dangerous, city life would have meant danger of a different sort, one he was more well-equipped to handle. There, he knew what to expect, knew how to avoid the sudden onslaught of a concealed knife and how to push away a rummaging hand. Here, anything was possible. And he was hardly here with any important task in mind, no chore that he had to finish before day’s end. He’d merely sought his favorite place to sit and relax, and now he couldn’t even relax because he was too busy worrying over potential danger. Yes, it would be best if he left now. Before he could take a step, though, a distant cry rent the air, setting aloft a group of blackbirds from a nearby tree, their dark wings beating against the heavy air in a desperate attempt to evacuate the area as quickly as possible. You should do the same. Leave, go, be smart like those crows! His inner voice pleaded with him, begged him to leave, but surprisingly, Liron couldn’t bring himself to move despite all his senses screaming at him to run. Even though the cry had been far away, and thus somewhat muted to his ears, he’d still caught a strain of pain and agony, something that tugged at him and compelled him to rush to the rescue. Or, if not rush, then at least to venture towards the source of the sound to see if everything was alright. It was his curse, this unavoidable need to help those in aid. Perhaps it had arisen from suppressing all violent urges within him all these years. If he couldn’t harm someone…why not help them? Liron moved quickly, heading towards the source of the sound despite the million reasons that clamored in his head and shouted for him to go home. He’d always thought that self-preservation had been one of his strong traits, but clearly he was wrong on that score, if his rapid descent into danger was any indication. But it appeared he wasn’t moving quickly enough, because barely a minute later, a scream so shrill and brutal that it made his ears bleed, sent him stumbling to his knees for a moment, eyes clamped shut in pain, before he managed to push himself upright and drive on. What the HELL was that? Though he had never been one for strong profanities, seeing whatever it was that had made that sound hurtling towards him might just drive him to swear in the most colorful language he knew. And that was probably what was going to happen should he keep moving in a forward direction instead of spinning around 180 degrees and running as though his life depended on it. Oh, he was running, just in the completely wrong direction. And to make matters all the more hectic, a black shape suddenly darted out of the tree branches, its ebony wings propelling it forward at a rapid rate. Spotting Liron, it dove towards him. Cawing furiously, it pecked at him and tugged at his hair with a vengeance. Though he was no animal whisperer, he could tell there was something that was sorely agitating the raven, and it probably had to do with the commotion that had occurred several minutes prior. “All right, all right, I’m coming!” One last tug, and then it was off, flying in the same direction he was heading. Muttering a curse, he pressed on, ignoring the foreboding feeling that was quickly rising within him. If he knew what to expect this would be so much easier, but as he had no way of knowing, he could only hope that the raven wasn’t leading him to his doom. When he finally did reach his destination, he was completely unprepared for what he saw. A man, unhealthy thin and a mix of contrasts, from the whiteness of his skin to the darkness of his garb and hair to the vivid red stain quickly spreading across his flesh and clothing. Emerald eyes latched on to the wound, a wound that was spilling forth blood at an unnaturally rapid rate. The wound itself might not necessarily have been fatal, but if this continued, the man would surely die of blood loss. And Liron could not allow himself to let a man die without doing his very best to save him, no matter if this man was evil or good. Yanking his shirt off over his head, Liron bent and began ripping the linen into strips. Working as quickly as he could, he wrapped each torn strip around the fallen man’s midriff, trying not to wince as scarlet spread over the snowy white fabric like a wildfire. It was spreading too fast….too fast. This wasn’t normal. He was no doctor, but he knew enough of the basics to know that that something was off. Four layers later, he was clean out of fabric, but could still see faint red eating away at the fabric. For a moment, he contemplated moving onto his pants, then dismissed the idea. The longer they sat here, the more likely it was that this man would die, because his wound required healing ability that was far out of Liron’s aptitude. They had to get to a town, and quick. Preferably a larger town….but that was probably too far. A small town, then. There was one nearby, wasn’t there? He could have sworn there was one. That was where they would go then, seeing as how they were so short on time. He could only hope his memory served him well. Now that he’d picked a place, he had to find a means of transportation. The more stable it was, the better, but he had no resources at his disposal except himself. That was a problem, since he was bound to shake that man up and down if he carried him, and that would only result in more blood loss. But…he had no other choice, and he was wasting time dawdling. Cursing – when had he started cursing so much? – he slid both hands under the man and lifted him, slightly started when he found he was able to lift the stranger without a significant amount of difficulty. Oh, he was still no feather, but he was manageable, and Liron was no heavyweight lifter. Looking heavenward, Liron muttered a quick prayer to whatever deity or being might happen to be listening, steeled his arms and tightened his grip, and started running. (so, I have no idea what exactly it was you wanted out of it, so if you want my post to have them arriving or not have Liron carry Tsuki or whatever, please let me know and I will fix it. And I won’t take two weeks about it. >< Ugh, I’m disgusted with myself. and I seriously apologize if I got something wrong. ) Edited by Liron, May 21 2009, 10:06 PM.
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