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| Mercy is a Weakness; Zyonai :D | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 8 2011, 11:39 AM (108 Views) | |
| Shrista | Oct 8 2011, 11:39 AM Post #1 |
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Pariah, Apostate, Heretic
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Mercy is nothing but a weakness of heart. Foliage cracked and crunched underfoot as she tore through the forest as though wild dogs were on her very heels. They might well be. Branches whipped and slapped, their grasping fingers trying to catch on anything to hold her back, slow and snag, but no matter how fast she ran, stumbling and bounding through the unruly forest, she couldn't outrun those despairing cries, echoing in her head, and rebounding to repeat over and over... "I knew you'd be stupid enough to come back here. The question is...why?" Shrista rolled her shoulders where she sat. She'd waited half a day for the lookouts to carry the message and bring her here. Of course she knew that the new High Priestess would come, when had she ever let a chance to make her enemies suffer, to cause them a loss of face? Standing slowly the exiled Drow shrugged, letting her hood fall back and revealing the gentle smile as she faced the speaker, short of stature with long silver tresses falling over her shoulders, light grey eyes glittering with scorn as she appraised her. "Faelune, so good to see you again." "Enough with your pleasantries, I told you the next time I would not come alone, and you would be punished for attempting to return!" Shrista twisted her lips as if tasting the bitterness she felt rising within her. "Why-ever would you think I am here to try to slip into the dark? You know, I've grown quite accustomed to it up here...the sky doesn't even intimidate me anymore...I see you hunch still beneath it though." Truly the woman had bought others with her this time. A full honor guard, not to mention the two scouts, clad as they were in red and black studded leather, standing impassively behind their priestess. The last time had been shortly after her exile, now two years on it seemed that she had left lookouts as she promised, her venom-tinged words had stung back then, seeped into her like a creeping poison that refused to leave. Even seeing her here, perfect as ever made Shrista's heart ache. Even scornful, hateful little witch that she was. "Closure. To leave with honor." Faelune paused, her face thoughtful, cunning, tilted eyes looking her former beloved over with not a little trepidation before she spat, "You are nothing but a filthy surfacer! You have no honor to speak of, and none to claim!" Bowing her head Shrista tensed, clenching her fists and relaxing them again. "No, you are right in that, you took everything from me last time. But I feel that even if it is not honor in 'your' eyes Faelune, it is in mine. And I 'will' make a place for myself here. I 'will' move on, and past the shame you give me." She smiled then, baring white teeth in her fierce smile. "I challenge you, to single combat. Your House Guards may not interfere." Faelune's eyes had widened then, both in outrage, and astonishment. Shrista slowed, breathing hard and leaned against the solid trunk of an old beech, feeling the rough bark beneath her palms but remembering the smooth dark flesh of the priestess. She gritted her teeth, spitting into the dirt, and cocked her head on one side, listening to the gentle melodies of the forest. Birds chattering and calling to one another, no doubt disturbed by her sudden crashing flight. The sound of the wind easing through the branches, the gentle footfalls of a startled deer fleeing away from her. Nothing here but her...at the moment. She expected to see House Guards tearing through the trees after her, but to her disquieted self, there was nothing. Only the forest, resuming it's regular pattern. Faelune has sneered, knowing that Shrista's powers had been stripped as much as her titles and rank, though uncomfortable in this environment, the light, the sky and the breeze, the unfamiliar catcalls of birds and the grassy terrain. Much to her own disgust she had thought her opponent fleeing when she turned and bounded off into the trees, forcing the woman to lift her robe in a most undignified manner to give chase, leaving the bewildered males to lumber after. Even the sting of a whip had not surprised her coming lightning-fast from the trees and leaving an evil red welt across her arm. The fight had been short and savage, the priestess using her magic to tear a rent in the forest around them, slicing through tree and earth, tearing it up and causing the air itself to crackle with energy. Tiring herself. Leaving herself open. A child could have caught her offguard as easily as Shrista did in the next second, her weapon twining around Faelune's throat from behind, her knee crashing into the woman's back and forcing her to the ground, face to the dirt and hair in a tangle as they both struggled, one to pin the other, one to be free of the choking grasp. "Why?! You should..have been sliced to ribbons!" "You were always ambitious Fae dear, always believing you knew best." "You never took what was rightfully yours! You..we..could have had everything!" "Maybe I didn't 'want' everything! Did you consider that?! Did you even think?!" Pulling the whip taught around the priestess' neck Shrista bared her teeth in fury, savage and animalistic. "You..wouldn't...Shri..." "No..you're right." She gave a short bark of laughter, one hand lightly touching the back of the other woman's neck. "What was it you said?" She murmured close to her ear, causing a shiver. "Death is too good for you. Too..quick." Shuddering she rested her forehead against the cool bark, trying to master her emotions. The screams would likely stick with her the rest of her life, and her kind as all elves did, had long memories. Not just the screams, but the sick satisfaction of being the cause of them, and to someone she had held dear. Digging her nails painfully into the tree she forced herself to release and continue walking, walking now instead of running. If the House Guards were coming, let them come. She would be ready. Probably. "Mercy! MERCY! Please!" Shrista stood over the woman as she curled into a fetal position, shuddering and whimpering. Her own lip curled in disgust as she viewed the Drow, reduced to nothing now but a quivering helpless babe, mewling at the slightest. "Yes..mercy...do you understand now, what they felt when you demanded I force them to acquiesce to your needs? I will grant you such as you deserve dear sister." Recieving nothing but the whimpering sobs of her enemy she kicked hard with the toe of one boot into the woman's stomach, growling, "You can renounce your honor right here and now. You can tell me why you betrayed me under the eyes of Lolth!" "I..never.." She gasped again, writhing from a second kick. "I can give you sensory pain, or I can give you physical pain. Or I can give you both at the same time, what do you think? Should I begin again?" "Please! I...I am done...just let me live." A click as the Lookout lowered his crossbow, disgust on his face as he viewed the two women, then lifting the weapon unsteadily, uncertainly between them. "You! Male! Return, and tell them that the High Priestess Faelune has decided she would do better on the surface, and has cast aside her honor. No need to point that thing at me...I am leaving now. I won't be back again." The man hesitantly bowed then turned and vanished into the trees, the sense of others, no doubt the guards, drawing closer. "Goodbye Faelune." After a seconds thought she added, "May fortune smile upon you." "No..you..what have you done?! You can't leave me like this, Shrista! Shrista?! SHRISSTAAAAAA!" She had run then, she had to, but the cries had followed her for some time. It had been several hours since now and she was flagging, after a couple of brief rests, she needed to stop again now, her fatigue at it's peak. Laughter bubbled up in her throat, breaking forth as she slowed her tired jog, until she was aching from more than the numerous lacerations on her skin from both whip and magic. It had been a long time since she had laughed as much, and how good it felt. Free. Finally free of her. Vengeance? No. She liked to think of it as...retribution. Her legs gave out, trembling and aching with tiredness, the laughter dying away, its music whisked away on the rising wind. Hunching down she shivered where she knelt, burying her face in her hands before drawing them back through her short silken hair. Maybe she was becoming a surfacer, but by the Gods, she would be a free soul, not bound by her heart to the past. Free. |
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