Death
Moderator: Gamemasters
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Arkadia Misella
- Posts: 1052
- Joined: Wed Apr 23, 2003 10:41 am
- Location: Dead Inside
Death
Arkadia was cut through. She had no more run left in her. She fell to her final resting place. Laying upon her back she gazed at the sky. For the first time since she could remember she saw beauty in it. It was her time to meet Cherga. The group that surrounded her gave her a warriors death and beheaded her on that very ground. As her spirit left her she watched as the group argued over what to do with her body. Memeories flooded back as she made her way into the spiritual realm.
Vahkos, still bloodied and beaten from the battle, witnesses the death of Arkadia angrily. She was the only person he had ever come so close to understanding, unlike the rest of the filth he encounters on a daily basis. It was too difficult for him to believe that somebody who seemed so powerful could've been defeated like any other living creature.
Limping to an abandoned structure near the sea, where the skies appear a dim grey, Vahkos gets on his knees and roars aloud. He strikes the ground with his cold fists and takes a hard look at the ground. He pulls a mildly decomposed skull from his bag, and places it on the blade of a rusty, old spear carried on his back. He kneels down before it...
"Cherga, infinite goddess of the underworld. Let Arkadia find a peaceful rest, and show me your wisdom. Show me a way to understanding my revenge, a path to victory..."
Limping to an abandoned structure near the sea, where the skies appear a dim grey, Vahkos gets on his knees and roars aloud. He strikes the ground with his cold fists and takes a hard look at the ground. He pulls a mildly decomposed skull from his bag, and places it on the blade of a rusty, old spear carried on his back. He kneels down before it...
"Cherga, infinite goddess of the underworld. Let Arkadia find a peaceful rest, and show me your wisdom. Show me a way to understanding my revenge, a path to victory..."
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Grant Herion
- Posts: 1813
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2003 1:26 am
Grant looks at the fallen body of the beautiful elven woman and a tear falls down his cheek. He quickly wipes it away. He looks at the footsteps near here, it was a great company who had come and cut this beautiful creature apart.
And why? Because they were bought and served by their masters. Pathetic was the word that Grant thought of. He gripped his wand and slowed his breathing.
He would get his revenge on all of these men in a matter of days...
And why? Because they were bought and served by their masters. Pathetic was the word that Grant thought of. He gripped his wand and slowed his breathing.
He would get his revenge on all of these men in a matter of days...
Alice finds out about the horrible news and becomes angrier than she had ever been before. She growls as she stomps off into the woods north of Trollsbane. "NO!!! Who is responsible for this?! This damned place is after my friends! I hate everyone here! I don't care what Malinne would think! I hate them all! My enemies better not cross my path!" She sends throwing stars in several random directions. Most become lodged in the trees and cause leaves to rustle, but she doesn't care in the first place. She growls again and lifts the war axe Malinne gave to her as a gift over her head and strikes the ground with all her might. The metal hits stone and sends sparks flying about only making Alice's temper tantrum more intense. She strikes the ground again and again until suddenly the axe breaks from the repeated force. Alice looks at the axe head now lying upon the ground and holds back tears. "I don't care, Malinne, I really don't..." she says almost completely out of breath. She lets the axe handle fall to the ground to join the rest of her beloved weapon the memory of a friend and her patience.
Never had her rage been so that it made her tremble."Who did this?"she cried at no one in particular.
Gigasha couldn't stand to see the headless corpse laying there like that, so drug the corpse home to Northerot for funeral rites. Her hands hurt from the furious digging, and and her chest hurt from the seeping wound that had been dealt her in the battle at Silverbrand. Bits of blood trickled down her thigh, unnoticed as she walked back to the spot where Arkadia had been slain. She was hoping to find evidence of what had happened when Gigasha spies a lock of her best friends hair, kneels and retrieves it. Then, almost as if in a trance she walked to the nearby shore, and washed blood from the severed ends of the hair. Pulling a dried piece of gut cord from her satchel, she carefully loops, then ties the hair together. With the locke of hair securely tied,she uses the loose ends of cord to attach it to a braid in her own hair. Staring into what seemed a very grim sky, she mumbled a prayer for the dark Lord to be gentle with Arkadia.
Still looking somewhat stupified, Gigasha wanders home, head hung low and staring with cold black eyes.
Gigasha couldn't stand to see the headless corpse laying there like that, so drug the corpse home to Northerot for funeral rites. Her hands hurt from the furious digging, and and her chest hurt from the seeping wound that had been dealt her in the battle at Silverbrand. Bits of blood trickled down her thigh, unnoticed as she walked back to the spot where Arkadia had been slain. She was hoping to find evidence of what had happened when Gigasha spies a lock of her best friends hair, kneels and retrieves it. Then, almost as if in a trance she walked to the nearby shore, and washed blood from the severed ends of the hair. Pulling a dried piece of gut cord from her satchel, she carefully loops, then ties the hair together. With the locke of hair securely tied,she uses the loose ends of cord to attach it to a braid in her own hair. Staring into what seemed a very grim sky, she mumbled a prayer for the dark Lord to be gentle with Arkadia.
Still looking somewhat stupified, Gigasha wanders home, head hung low and staring with cold black eyes.
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Konstantin K
- Posts: 933
- Joined: Sat May 31, 2003 9:18 pm
- Location: Permanently Banned by Uber Powerful Mega-GMs, because he was BAD.
- Contact:
Konstantin sheaths his daggers and weakly relaxes his hands, he puts his head down. Another person he liked is now dead. The silent song in the air, the song of revenge, sang by several minds in a unison, reaches his blackened mind as well.
As if he was following some painful flow, he coldly walks in the direction of the sea, overwhelmed by pain, loss, and empty feeling of injustice.
Reaching the cliffs, he looks into the sea.
His hollow dry eyes are not able to drop a tear, but his half lost soul drops two instead.
As if he was following some painful flow, he coldly walks in the direction of the sea, overwhelmed by pain, loss, and empty feeling of injustice.
Reaching the cliffs, he looks into the sea.
His hollow dry eyes are not able to drop a tear, but his half lost soul drops two instead.
Aristeaus swears as he walks.
' I got her away from the town, i spoke to her outside, why did this lady who i respect attack myself. '
He walks a while further and throws hes blade to the floor.
' When i caught her i gave her the healing she needed to survive, why did she stay, whoever took her life shall be remembered, not as a saint but as the damned!
' I got her away from the town, i spoke to her outside, why did this lady who i respect attack myself. '
He walks a while further and throws hes blade to the floor.
' When i caught her i gave her the healing she needed to survive, why did she stay, whoever took her life shall be remembered, not as a saint but as the damned!
The sidewalk outside the shop shimmers a beatuiful brown color. A stark contrast to the pale green corpse of an orcess. Battered, broken, and burned my magick. A greedy Hobbit scurries around the body, unceremoniusly tossing it this way and that, as he removes her personal effects. A dwarf, an Elfess, and a human stand nearby tallking as a crow comes, and begins to peck the eyes from the corpse
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Moskher Heszche
- Posts: 338
- Joined: Mon Feb 23, 2004 3:32 am
- Location: You can never be too stupid or too pretty to be a puppet king.
Outside of Trollsbane, Moskher stands silently. He heard the terrible news. Another friend dead. He waits for the crowd to thin around the green corpse.
He whipes a tear from his eye, "No. She's too proud for this. She's much too proud."
The crowd thins yet more. Moskher stands like a statue.
"I have to wait for the right time. She's too proud for this."
After much time, the corpse begins to smell under the warm sun and the crowd is gone completely. All that waits is for a gravedigger to carry her body away. Moskher wouldn't allow that.
Moskher turns. He reaches down behind him where he has a small box.
"It's small--too small--but it'll have to do."
The short and thin man sneaks to the wall. He wouldn't dare going through the gate. The guards would see him, and he wasn't quite sure yet what their reaction might be.
Moskher sighs and begins to climb the wall. His small frame was meant for this kind of task. His hand soon reaches the top of the wall and he attempts to leverage himself over the top.
Once on the other side, he sees the body of Gigasha, the birds pecking away at what is left of her face.
"She's too proud for this," he repeats to himself, "she deserves better."
He draws his dagger and takes the head of Gigasha, leaving the town as quickly as he came in. He places her head in the box, locking the lid. Only now does he notice the blood on his hands. He tries to forget about it and begins his voyage to Northerot.
"She's too proud to be buried in Trollsbane. I wouldn't allow that," he whispers.
As he realizes what he has done for his friend, a smile crosses his face.
"I'll miss you, Gigasha. May your soul find a much-needed rest."
He whipes a tear from his eye, "No. She's too proud for this. She's much too proud."
The crowd thins yet more. Moskher stands like a statue.
"I have to wait for the right time. She's too proud for this."
After much time, the corpse begins to smell under the warm sun and the crowd is gone completely. All that waits is for a gravedigger to carry her body away. Moskher wouldn't allow that.
Moskher turns. He reaches down behind him where he has a small box.
"It's small--too small--but it'll have to do."
The short and thin man sneaks to the wall. He wouldn't dare going through the gate. The guards would see him, and he wasn't quite sure yet what their reaction might be.
Moskher sighs and begins to climb the wall. His small frame was meant for this kind of task. His hand soon reaches the top of the wall and he attempts to leverage himself over the top.
Once on the other side, he sees the body of Gigasha, the birds pecking away at what is left of her face.
"She's too proud for this," he repeats to himself, "she deserves better."
He draws his dagger and takes the head of Gigasha, leaving the town as quickly as he came in. He places her head in the box, locking the lid. Only now does he notice the blood on his hands. He tries to forget about it and begins his voyage to Northerot.
"She's too proud to be buried in Trollsbane. I wouldn't allow that," he whispers.
As he realizes what he has done for his friend, a smile crosses his face.
"I'll miss you, Gigasha. May your soul find a much-needed rest."