Vicious
08-29-2008, 10:47 AM
Iâve been hearing these echoing screams for days now. At least it seems for days, maybe weeks, who knows in this cell. Where time loses itâs meaning. Damn Darken never takes the first watch. Always saying the first watch is always the most important. Seems that the first couple hours are always, uneventful. This run-down shack of Darkenâs and mines has much become our home more then our meeting place.
This shack, more like four leaning walls and a thatched roof. It has only one window which has been shattered as long as we can remember coming to this spot since our families shared a lot together back in the Great Slaughter. We were fortunate enough to be far enough out of the way of the two fighting cities to be left alone and unscarred. The floor is nothing but weathered wood split and worn by years of walking and pacing of the homeless or the nervous bandits that occupy it even now. The shack has one bed, well a cot with a mattress that probably has none of the original feathers contained than it did when it was placed there. Three dark corners trace the room showing you where the moons were hitting that night. Names of those moons escape me. I was never a scholar or a astrologist as they called them. Darken was the smart one, the devious one.
Watching this same patch of forest reminds me of the time back in my younger years at my post at the Temple of Strife. The only eventful time was when the orcs over ran our sister temple in Breganfall. With their savage rampage of the land, pillaging every town and village they laid there damned hands on. Even then the time of their reign was short lived with their civil wars erupting just weeks after the victory. Stupid. The whole lot of them.
Darken is growing restless as the night lingers on. His nightmares or what not have always cursed it seems like. Especially when the sister sunes are adjecent sides of the white speckled *****. Darken, a shorter more compact human of about 25 winters. Darken has always kept his beard with the most care out of anyone. Always making sure everything is perfect. Not only his appreance, but his combat prowess. Hitting and running, casting and dodging. He has always been a formiable foe even when we were much younger. Traces of blonde in his long stock of brown hair. Then the howls of Timber wolves break the utter silence of this damned forest.
It seems that something has gone awry with the forest in the past six months. Something evil has corrupted this once pleasant land. It makes me nervous that we have adapted a routine in coming here to plan out our new direction in life, as Darken likes to call it. I curse myself at letting myself slip away into past thoughts and letting my alert and guard down. Darken is finally awake with sweat beading down his face. He is shivering, probably from the combination of sweat and the cool autumn breeze. " Had another one huh?" I questioned.
" No.. it was.. something completely different. Something..." Darken choked up on the most recent images of his nightmare. " Nevermind it, its my turn for watch anyways, get some rest ol' friend."
Ha, I said in my mind, like I ever get any rest. Feeling this hard, but warm, cot was a relief. Even though I perfected the art of sleeping with one eye open and one shut. Always seems im on edge. Then there was a devasting blow that seems it should have felled the wall.
âVicious, did you hear that!!â
âShh, yeaâ I replied, quite you dolt.
âNo way! Howâd they find us!â Darken said, in a voice that was dripping with fear, and seemed with a little anticipation.
âI donât knowâ I croaked back âStay calm, it could have been one of those dire night owlsâ My voice revealed the fear that wore on my face. Then there was a crash of the roof, and everything became dark. Like an in-penetrable globe of darkness, couldnât even see your fingers wag before your eyes.
âVicious. Run!â Darken screamed, breaking the cold silence.
Something grabbed me. Something inhumanly strong. I heard the explosion of wood and splinters, and the rush of air. I manage to drop my bow, hoping Darken might be able to track me. Then blackness is all I knew.
(Pale skin, and an item i could retrieve from my escape from the vampires lair.. robe)
This shack, more like four leaning walls and a thatched roof. It has only one window which has been shattered as long as we can remember coming to this spot since our families shared a lot together back in the Great Slaughter. We were fortunate enough to be far enough out of the way of the two fighting cities to be left alone and unscarred. The floor is nothing but weathered wood split and worn by years of walking and pacing of the homeless or the nervous bandits that occupy it even now. The shack has one bed, well a cot with a mattress that probably has none of the original feathers contained than it did when it was placed there. Three dark corners trace the room showing you where the moons were hitting that night. Names of those moons escape me. I was never a scholar or a astrologist as they called them. Darken was the smart one, the devious one.
Watching this same patch of forest reminds me of the time back in my younger years at my post at the Temple of Strife. The only eventful time was when the orcs over ran our sister temple in Breganfall. With their savage rampage of the land, pillaging every town and village they laid there damned hands on. Even then the time of their reign was short lived with their civil wars erupting just weeks after the victory. Stupid. The whole lot of them.
Darken is growing restless as the night lingers on. His nightmares or what not have always cursed it seems like. Especially when the sister sunes are adjecent sides of the white speckled *****. Darken, a shorter more compact human of about 25 winters. Darken has always kept his beard with the most care out of anyone. Always making sure everything is perfect. Not only his appreance, but his combat prowess. Hitting and running, casting and dodging. He has always been a formiable foe even when we were much younger. Traces of blonde in his long stock of brown hair. Then the howls of Timber wolves break the utter silence of this damned forest.
It seems that something has gone awry with the forest in the past six months. Something evil has corrupted this once pleasant land. It makes me nervous that we have adapted a routine in coming here to plan out our new direction in life, as Darken likes to call it. I curse myself at letting myself slip away into past thoughts and letting my alert and guard down. Darken is finally awake with sweat beading down his face. He is shivering, probably from the combination of sweat and the cool autumn breeze. " Had another one huh?" I questioned.
" No.. it was.. something completely different. Something..." Darken choked up on the most recent images of his nightmare. " Nevermind it, its my turn for watch anyways, get some rest ol' friend."
Ha, I said in my mind, like I ever get any rest. Feeling this hard, but warm, cot was a relief. Even though I perfected the art of sleeping with one eye open and one shut. Always seems im on edge. Then there was a devasting blow that seems it should have felled the wall.
âVicious, did you hear that!!â
âShh, yeaâ I replied, quite you dolt.
âNo way! Howâd they find us!â Darken said, in a voice that was dripping with fear, and seemed with a little anticipation.
âI donât knowâ I croaked back âStay calm, it could have been one of those dire night owlsâ My voice revealed the fear that wore on my face. Then there was a crash of the roof, and everything became dark. Like an in-penetrable globe of darkness, couldnât even see your fingers wag before your eyes.
âVicious. Run!â Darken screamed, breaking the cold silence.
Something grabbed me. Something inhumanly strong. I heard the explosion of wood and splinters, and the rush of air. I manage to drop my bow, hoping Darken might be able to track me. Then blackness is all I knew.
(Pale skin, and an item i could retrieve from my escape from the vampires lair.. robe)