Post by Shura on Oct 19, 2003 13:53:14 GMT -5
Mori’s consciousness drifted though a bewildering haze, struggling to realise its situation. He remembered his mission, a battle, and Kael, the warrior monk. How could this be? He had died…
A voice addressed him out of the nothingness. A voice he recognised, but could not identify, so confused and hazy as his mind was. ‘Ah, my ill-fated assassin,’ it began in a tone of reproach, yet the speaker sounded strangely satisfied as it continued, ‘so you have failed in your task. I expected as much. Your quarry is old and cunning, and well versed in the tactics of your kind. Fortunately for me, though less for you, there is still a way in which you can be of use to me.’
Mori sensed something approach, and though he did not know what it was, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread and despair. Tendrils of malice touched his consciousness and crept through to his core of his being. It was indescribable agony, a terrible assault on his very soul, as he felt all that he was being slowly drained away to feed the invading entity. Mori tried again and again to struggle or scream, but he had no mouth, no limbs. Soon all his feeling had been drained from him, and he simply observed passively as memories, emotions, everything that he was slowly leeched into the creature, until nothing remained.
It was morning, and down in the taproom the guests were breaking their fast. The innkeeper surveyed the scene. A couple of merchants and a travelling minstrel were seated in one corner, but the majority belonged to a party of ruffians who had come the night before. He did not welcome such riffraff in his establishment, but it was difficult in these troubled times to refuse a group of armed men. Thankfully, they had not troubled his other customers overmuch, and planned to leave in an hour or so, when he would be glad to see the backs of them.
‘Innkeep.’ He turned his head towards the voice and saw that another of his guests had roused himself. It was unusual that he had not heard this one descend the stairs. He remembered this one, a mysterious stranger from the eastern lands. He had also arrived last night. The easterner was dressed in tattered, bloodstained black cloth from head to toe, and looked as he had been in a recent struggle. His surprise quickly turned to fear as the easterner drew close to him, but he defiantly met the man’s gaze. As his eyes met the easterners, he realised that the man’s eyes had changed. A dark orange light seemed to radiate from them and fill his own vision. While this was originally startling, it somehow felt soothing and he relaxed his stance. Observing disinterestedly that the easterner’s skin was pallid grey, like that of a corpse.
‘Innkeep,’ he was addressed again, ‘I seek information. A blind man and a girl. They stayed here last night, but the morning finds them gone. I fear I must move quickly to catch them. Do you know where they went?’
The innkeeper hesitated, a voice at the back of his mind objecting. He was not obliged to give any information and the pair had not mentioned any travelling companions. They certainly had not arrived with him. But his doubts soon vanished, and the easterner seemed like a decent and trustworthy type, after all. ‘They left to the northwest, if I’m any judge. No horses. Probably heading for Feywood or someplace near it.’
‘My thanks,’ came the reply. The innkeeper noticed that that when he spoke, his mouth did not move exactly in time with the words spoken. The easterner then turned to address the group of thugs that sat nearby. ‘The man I seek is a wanted criminal, and has kidnapped the girl he travels with, even now he takes her to his lair to hold her for ransom. If you accompany me and help me bring him to justice, a great reward will be given by my lord to share between yourselves.’
Many were ready to accept on the basis of a reward alone, and any who might looked like refusing or discussing the task were quickly silenced by the easterner’s soothing gaze, which seemed to numb the mind and slow one’s thoughts. To a man, the bandits agreed to follow him.
‘Excellent!’ exclaimed the easterner in his sibilant tones. ‘Innkeep, we will require the use of all the horses currently in your stables.’
‘Hold on right there!’ shouted a merchant from Lestan, who had ridden in the last night. ‘You can’t just take our mounts!’ He rose from his chair and his two bodyguards follow suit, their hands resting on their blades. The innkeeper frowned. To his thinking, it just didn’t seem right to challenge anything the innkeeper said. But he needn’t had worried, for it only took a glance from the strange man to silence the merchant and make him order his men to stand down.
As the innkeeper led the men outside to give them horses, one of the other guests in the taproom left the inn. A slight, hawk-eyed man wearing a hooded cloak, he made his way out without a word, one hand carrying a longbow and the other straying near a quiver full of arrows. No one took notice of his leave.
After making sure that his men had horses, the easterner sent the innkeeper back inside. He then lit a torch and tossed it onto the building, giving a low chuckle as it went up in flames. No one inside tried to leave as the party set off after the monk’s trail. After all, he hadn’t told them to.
A voice addressed him out of the nothingness. A voice he recognised, but could not identify, so confused and hazy as his mind was. ‘Ah, my ill-fated assassin,’ it began in a tone of reproach, yet the speaker sounded strangely satisfied as it continued, ‘so you have failed in your task. I expected as much. Your quarry is old and cunning, and well versed in the tactics of your kind. Fortunately for me, though less for you, there is still a way in which you can be of use to me.’
Mori sensed something approach, and though he did not know what it was, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread and despair. Tendrils of malice touched his consciousness and crept through to his core of his being. It was indescribable agony, a terrible assault on his very soul, as he felt all that he was being slowly drained away to feed the invading entity. Mori tried again and again to struggle or scream, but he had no mouth, no limbs. Soon all his feeling had been drained from him, and he simply observed passively as memories, emotions, everything that he was slowly leeched into the creature, until nothing remained.
It was morning, and down in the taproom the guests were breaking their fast. The innkeeper surveyed the scene. A couple of merchants and a travelling minstrel were seated in one corner, but the majority belonged to a party of ruffians who had come the night before. He did not welcome such riffraff in his establishment, but it was difficult in these troubled times to refuse a group of armed men. Thankfully, they had not troubled his other customers overmuch, and planned to leave in an hour or so, when he would be glad to see the backs of them.
‘Innkeep.’ He turned his head towards the voice and saw that another of his guests had roused himself. It was unusual that he had not heard this one descend the stairs. He remembered this one, a mysterious stranger from the eastern lands. He had also arrived last night. The easterner was dressed in tattered, bloodstained black cloth from head to toe, and looked as he had been in a recent struggle. His surprise quickly turned to fear as the easterner drew close to him, but he defiantly met the man’s gaze. As his eyes met the easterners, he realised that the man’s eyes had changed. A dark orange light seemed to radiate from them and fill his own vision. While this was originally startling, it somehow felt soothing and he relaxed his stance. Observing disinterestedly that the easterner’s skin was pallid grey, like that of a corpse.
‘Innkeep,’ he was addressed again, ‘I seek information. A blind man and a girl. They stayed here last night, but the morning finds them gone. I fear I must move quickly to catch them. Do you know where they went?’
The innkeeper hesitated, a voice at the back of his mind objecting. He was not obliged to give any information and the pair had not mentioned any travelling companions. They certainly had not arrived with him. But his doubts soon vanished, and the easterner seemed like a decent and trustworthy type, after all. ‘They left to the northwest, if I’m any judge. No horses. Probably heading for Feywood or someplace near it.’
‘My thanks,’ came the reply. The innkeeper noticed that that when he spoke, his mouth did not move exactly in time with the words spoken. The easterner then turned to address the group of thugs that sat nearby. ‘The man I seek is a wanted criminal, and has kidnapped the girl he travels with, even now he takes her to his lair to hold her for ransom. If you accompany me and help me bring him to justice, a great reward will be given by my lord to share between yourselves.’
Many were ready to accept on the basis of a reward alone, and any who might looked like refusing or discussing the task were quickly silenced by the easterner’s soothing gaze, which seemed to numb the mind and slow one’s thoughts. To a man, the bandits agreed to follow him.
‘Excellent!’ exclaimed the easterner in his sibilant tones. ‘Innkeep, we will require the use of all the horses currently in your stables.’
‘Hold on right there!’ shouted a merchant from Lestan, who had ridden in the last night. ‘You can’t just take our mounts!’ He rose from his chair and his two bodyguards follow suit, their hands resting on their blades. The innkeeper frowned. To his thinking, it just didn’t seem right to challenge anything the innkeeper said. But he needn’t had worried, for it only took a glance from the strange man to silence the merchant and make him order his men to stand down.
As the innkeeper led the men outside to give them horses, one of the other guests in the taproom left the inn. A slight, hawk-eyed man wearing a hooded cloak, he made his way out without a word, one hand carrying a longbow and the other straying near a quiver full of arrows. No one took notice of his leave.
After making sure that his men had horses, the easterner sent the innkeeper back inside. He then lit a torch and tossed it onto the building, giving a low chuckle as it went up in flames. No one inside tried to leave as the party set off after the monk’s trail. After all, he hadn’t told them to.
