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Ilyana Fiirhaart
Posted: 19 Apr 2004 12:05 PM |
Part One.
Ilyana looked around her family home, where she had lived since birth. She was disgusted with what she saw. The same shabby furniture her father had made; her mother had stitched together the coverings many years ago, the colour of the cloth faded to a dingy grey colour. The rugs on the floor were threadbare and again had lost all colour and pattern. She remembered once it had been a bright cornflower blue. The plates on the dresser were all cracked, Ilyana couldn't recall a time when she hadn't eaten off these plates.
She watched her mother Mara and her father Pieter talking and laughing while they washed up the dinner dishes. Dinner had been the usual nutritional but flavourless affair of vegetables and bland fish. They looked so happy together, Ilyana scowled to herself. Her mother stayed at home day in and day out, cleaning the house from top to bottom every day, most often trying to cajole Ilyana into helping by telling her how much fun it would be. Her father was a sailor who had no aspirations to better himself and become ships mate or even Captain. They were so happy with their inconsequential life. So happy that they had food to feed them and a roof over their heads. So happy with their wonderful daughter that they would not curse the Gods for blessing them with no more children. So happy that they didn't notice how sad their daughter was.
Ilyana turned her back on this room and went to her bedroom. Here she noticed the worn bedspread and a small box of toys that had been played with so much they were mostly broken. She picked up a doll lying in the doorway and smashed it against the wall as hard as she could. She threw herself on the bed and cried. Her mother, hearing Ilyana crying, came rushing to the bedroom.
"Ilyana what is wrong, have you hurt yourself?" Mara sat down next to Ilyana on the bed, stroking her flame red hair in an effort to comfort her daughter.
"No mother, I haven't hurt myself, please just leave me here" Ilyana choked out a reply in between sobs.
"I can't just leave you be like this my love, please tell me what the matter is" Mara gently tried to help her daughter "it's ..... it's just that I wish we lived in a beautiful house, with beautiful furniture and ornaments to decorate the place .... and ... and" she started sobbing again.
Her mother just sighed and kept stroking her hair and her back to calm her down "....and I want to wear the pretty dresses that are for sale in the shops, and I never have any new toys ....." she descended into sobbing again.
"My darling Ilyana" her Mother started soothingly "those things are not necessary for a happy life, you will see one day that the love of a good husband, food on the table and if you are blessed, a child or two; are all you need to be happy" she smiled as she spoke to Ilyana.
"How can just those things make you happy mother? How can you not long to wear pretty dresses and go to balls at the palace, wearing Omiga's latest jewellery and Versuci’s latest dresses ?" sniffed Ilyana.
"Because those things are merely trappings my dear. The richest people in the world are usually unhappy because they always crave more. The secret is to be happy with what you have and a purpose in life" said Mara.
"And what is your purpose Mamma?" said Ilyana, a little curiously but with a tinge of defiance in her voice.
"Why to look after you and your father" laughed Mara gently.
Ilyana sighed. She knew that she was never going to agree with her Mother's perspective on life, even at the young age of eight. "Well you seem a bit happier now my dear, how would you like to come and help me with the darning? Go wash your face and take a few minutes to calm down and join me in the kitchen" and with that her Mother left, oblivious to the look of anger forming on Ilyana's face buried in her coverlets.
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OOC : Feedback welcome/appreciated, but please be kind :)
More to follow soon-ish
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Jane
aka Solitaire
aka Ilyana Fiirhaart, Cleric of Naruth |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart
Posted: 19 Apr 2004 12:12 PM |
Splendid! Lovely writing!
So much bitterness! So much lust for wealth! It's just *starts crying* so... beautiful!
-Barnas
aka Enialis Nailo
aka Talice Jhalavar
aka Greg Matthews
aka Xune Tiara
aka Fri'el Skygem
aka Opheryr Yconholyi
aka Vela Milistra
aka Thelia Starsoul
aka Aurelia Amil'olia
aka Xixili Avilia
aka Lani |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart
Posted: 19 Apr 2004 01:06 PM |
Very well written Jane! I liked it. Now please stop teasing us and post the sequel! ;)
Phoenix (you know who I am ) |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 25 Apr 2004 06:38 AM |
Omiga's jewellers had just put up a new display in their shop window with the latest designs. Ilyana looked into the window and looked longingly at the center-piece, a beautiful necklace of fire opals that would set off the colour of her flame red hair. She touched a hand to her red curls, feeling how soft they were from the brushing she gave them twice a day, 100 strokes with the brush each and every time. She changed her angle so that she could see her reflection in the window and smiled at herself. She looked herself up and down admiringly. She looked at the pretty red dress she had begged her mother and father for weeks to buy her from Versucci. It wasn't the latest fashion, and they had bought it in the sale, yet it still suited her and was the best dress she had ever had. Ilyana thought she looked just like the girls from the rich mansions in the town. She moved slightly, now she could see her reflection and the necklace through the glass, so that with a little imagination it looked like she was wearing it. Ilyana's smile grew wider as she admired herself and daydreamed about wearing the necklace to Queen Aquinas' summer ball.
Ilyana's mother Mara was shopping at a cart in the market, buying some vegetables for the week. Ilyana ran over to where her mother was negotiating for a discount on some battered looking turnips. She delighted in noticing the passers by who turned to look at her in the new red dress, and her shiny red curls bouncing and catching the sunlight as she ran.
"Mother, mother, come with me now and look at the necklace in Omiga's window" she ignored what her mother was doing and grabbed her by the arm, trying to pull her towards the jewellers.
Her mother dropped one of the turnips she had just bought and it rolled down the street to the ox who was minding his own business at Jusin's cart. The ox noticed the unexpected treat come to a stop just under his nose, and promptly started to munch on the leaves. Mara watched this in dismay while trying to extricate herself from her daughter's grasp.
"Ilyana please stand still and don't pull at me so" she said wearily "the turnip that the ox over there is eating was for our supper" she looked frustrated and tired beyond her years.
"Oh mother, stop fussing over a silly turnip, come and see this necklace, it goes perfectly with my dress and hair, you have to buy it for me, you just have to !" she happily chattered while beaming a radiant smile at her mother and at the cart-owner for good measure.
Her mother walked away from the stall, embarrassed to talk in front of the marker trader. "Ilyana that dress cost us all of the savings we had. You know we were going to use the money for a new stove, and that we have had to do without other essentials to afford it. Your father and I understood how important the dress was to you, but we also wanted you to understand how much it has cost us as a family".
She frowned as she realised Ilyana was guiding her towards the jewellers barely listening to her words "We cannot afford decent vegetables to eat, let alone a necklace that is likely to cost ten times as much as the dress" there was no anger in her voice, only weariness.
"But mother" Ilyana said, starting to look very unhappy "I just have to go to the ball, that is why I wanted this dress, I told you that" tears welled up in her eyes and her face started to crumple.
"Ilyana ..... please try to understand, we are not rich like the people who live to the north of the city" Mara gently took her daughter's hand "come let us go home".
And so Mara led Ilyana home, whilst she sobbed loudly so that all could see and hear, and her mother kept her head bowed low, looking as if she was to blame for her daughter's distress. When they got home her father was there, home for a few days in between voyages.
"Pa...pa ...." sobbed Ilyana, collapsing into his arms "mother won't buy me the necklace I want to wear to the ball"
Pieter took Ilyana into is arms and held her tight, her head buried in his chest. He looked up at Mara, totally perplexed. "Necklace? We cannot afford a necklace. We cannot afford the ticket to the Ball either Ilyana" he sounded a little stern.
"B...b...but Papa, that is why I wanted the dress" she sobbed some more "oh why can't you be a great adventurer, or master craftsman, or....or..." she descended into sobs again.
Pieter picked his daughter up by her arms and lifted her onto the chair next to him. "Ilyana we have a happy simple life, there is no need for trinkets and dresses and Balls to make a person happy" he frowned a little at her and she kept her head down avoiding eye contact.
"We used every last copper to buy you that dress Ilyana. We tried to make you understand that it would not make you feel any happier. We told you how much it would affect us and what we would have to give up, so that you could have it. Yet you were adamant that you could not live without it. So we scraped together everything we had, and bought it for you" he patiently explained.
"But I was happier" Ilyana blurted out "I was happier .... until I saw that necklace. You....you are wrong" she looked up into his eyes, with a look of fury forming in her own "if you could give me what I want I would be happy. If you weren't so poor, then I would be happy. It's your fault I am not happy" she said raising her voice to a shout towards the end of her defiant speech. And with that she jumped down off the chair and ran back out of the house into the street.
Pieter stood up and walked towards Mara, taking the bags she was still holding and put them on the kitchen table. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a warm hug, just as she softly broke down in tears.
"What did we do wrong?" she barely whispered " we wanted to show her that it was wrong to covet things so much, and she has learnt nothing" she cried quietly into her husbands shoulder.
"We have done nothing wrong my dear. She is only eleven, she has plenty of time to learn. At least we have learned one lesson" he smiled a little to himself "we should not give in to her demands, she will learn" he nodded reassuringly to himself while he comforted his wife.
Ilyana listening outside the kitchen window, face calm and eyes cold, heard her father's last words. "Is that what he thinks" she muttered to herself "I mean to get everything I want, everything I deserve".
She looked at her red dress, covered in tears and crumpled from crying whilst hunched up on her father's lap. She smoothed her dress down, and sat on the grass nearby, careful not to spoil her dress any further. She sat pulling up the flowers her mother had lovingly planted at the start of Spring. An idea crystallized itself in her mind, she had managed to get the dress by tantrums and sulking, yet it seemed this tactic would not work again. A smile came to her lips and she tidied the flowers into a pretty looking bouquet, and walked back into the house looking demure and apologetic, but with a devious glint in her eye.......... |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 25 Apr 2004 07:42 AM |
*OOC*
OOH! *sits on the tip of his seat* More more more! The makings of Ilyana, the cold chuckling priestess of Naruth. Delightfully written Jane!!Simply great. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 25 Apr 2004 07:43 AM |
Brilliant! She's just..so...so... *chokes back tears*.. wonderful...
When does she start killing people?
-Barnas
aka Enialis Nailo
aka Talice Jhalavar
aka Greg Matthews
aka Xune Tiara
aka Fri'el Skygem
aka Opheryr Yconholyi
aka Vela Milistra
aka Thelia Starsoul
aka Aurelia Amil'olia
aka Xixili Avilia
aka Lani
aka Xune Swift |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 26 Apr 2004 02:52 PM |
Now this is the seeds of true evil.
Well done. I can honestly say I look forward to more.
Mykal |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 26 Apr 2004 03:08 PM |
Fantastic, simply fantastic story. I cant help but want to slap her myself. =)
I'm greatly looking forward to seeing what was behind that smile of hers.
-SQ |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 02 May 2004 05:45 AM |
Part Three
Ilyana’s heart was beating fast as she snuck through the alleyways in the south of Port Royale. For a change she was wearing rather drab clothing, wary that she would be noticed. As she walked she smiled to herself, thinking back over the past few years machinations that had brought her to this point...
She had realised that her parents paid little attention to her screaming tantrums, and that they were seldom fooled by false smiles and pleasantries, Ilyana decided that she needed her own finances to get what she wanted. So she had begged and pleaded with Versucci to help out in his shop, using all the wiles she had at her disposal. And he had succumbed to her fluttering eyelashes and continual pleading. At first the work wasn’t fancy, just seam stitching and sweeping the floors. All of the work was out back, and she didn’t get a chance to see the glamorous women coming into the shop and trying on the beautiful dresses. But she was good at the work after many years of her mother teaching her, even though she was an impatient lass she was determined to get what she was after, and she had a goal in sight. After a while Versucci saw how complimentary she could be with the women who came in, and that she was actually helping him to sell more, so he moved her to the front of the shop. She had little to do there except look smart herself, which was hardly a chore to her! And to fuss around the customers, pressing them into spending more than they wanted, but leaving with happy smiles. She excelled at this, and received many generous tips from the rich clientele. And thus her personal wealth grew larger day on day.
Her parents, little interested in dresses, still thought that she was sewing and sweeping, and had no idea how much their little girl was earning. They would have been amazed to know that some weeks she accumulated more gold than her father earnt in a month. Ilyana gave her mother a few coppers a week, her mother believed this to be all her wages and was suitably proud of her.
And so Ilyana worked from age eleven through to age fourteen, blossoming from a pretty young girl, into a beautiful young woman. Versucci came to trust her implicitly, and Ilyana took advantage of this trust to steal and had been stealing from him all these years. The first time she did it, she was alone in the shop, she had just taken a large payment from a man on behalf of a woman 20 years his junior and quite obviously not his own wife. Versucci was out, seeing fine cloth from some merchants who had just arrived from Midor. There was no-one else in the shop with her, so excitedly and with a little trepidation, she skimmed ten gold pieces out of the small trunk they kept the takings in. She carefully stuffed them between her skin and clothing, so the chinking sound would not give them away. She waited a little anxiously for a few days after taking the gold, and soon realised that no-one in the shop suspected a thing.
This way her personal fortune increased much more quickly. And these few years hence saw Ilyana with one thousand gold pieces, tucked in her waistband in five separate bags. She clutched her arms tightly about herself, lest any jingling draw unwanted attention.
She saw the girl she was looking for almost straight away. Realising that the direct approach was probably best, she walked straight up to the woman of ill repute.
“Are you Candy?” Ilyana spoke quietly but confidently
“Who wants t’ know?” the woman replied a little cagily
“Someone who has a business proposition for Candy” she smiled a conspiratorial smile, and looked the woman in the eye.
“Come in ‘ere, where we can talk” Ilyana was shown into the doorway of a nearby abandoned house. The door was open and Ilyana, perhaps a little foolishly, followed her inside.
“I am Candy, what did you ‘ave in mind?”
“Well, I have a little job for you to do, for which you will be handsomely rewarded.” Candy waited for Ilyana to explain the details.
“All I need of you is to be at a particular place and at a particular time, to pretend to be making a delivery and seduce the man that accepts the delivery” she said nervously.
Although used to speaking with people after her time in the shops, she had never spoken to someone like Candy before. She was also desperate not to show any signs of nervousness, as she had all of her hopes for her future comfort tied up in this one plan. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress before continuing, making it seem that she was smoothing down her dull coloured skirts. She watched Candy closely to see her reaction. Candy’s eyes betrayed nothing.
“And of course I would want you to keep the details of the deal to yourself, not a word to anyone” Ilyana added.
“And jus’ ‘ow much would ya be paying me for this?”
“I will give you two hundred gold now and another three hundred when this is done.”
“A measly five hun’red, I’d be wantin’ more like a couple a thousan’ ” Candy laughed and waited to see if Ilyana would increase the offer.
“Well I could maybe stretch to five hundred now and another five when it is done?” Ilyana looked a little flustered, worried she sounded too hopeful.
“Yer wastin’ my time lass” Candy snorted and she started towards the door.
“Wait!” Ilyana said desperately “Seven fifty now and the same later, that’s all I have.”
This was not quite the truth, but she would have to use money she had put aside for an exquisite pair of earrings to finance the deal. She sighed at the sacrifices she was having to make.
Candy looked back and looked like she was considering the offer “Very well lass, you have a deal”
Candy showed no sign, but she had realized that this meant a lot to Ilyana and had pushed her as far as she could go, she recognized that she was a young girl and probably naïve at negotiation and she was more than pleased with the result. Ilyana, for her part, was certain that if she had handled this better, the price would have been lower, but she marked it down to her youth and sheer desperation to persuade Candy to agree to this. Ilyana picked out the bags of gold and passed them to Candy.
”I will let you know the time, date and location nearer the time. Be ready. Remember you must seduce him or the deal is off. He must be found fully…compromised.” she said with a wicked grin, some of her earlier confidence now returning to her voice as she could see her goal getting closer.
“Awright dearie, I won’t let ya down, whoever he be, no man can resist me charms” Candy leered.
Ilyana pulled herself tall, nodded to Candy and walked past her out of the house. As she half-walked, half-ran home, she chuckled softly to herself…
((OOC I hope the suspense is building rather that you all getting bored! This is turning out to take longer to get the point than I intended, but I am having fun writing it :))
Jane |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 02 May 2004 06:13 AM |
Bloody Brilyant!
-Barnas |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 02 May 2004 06:30 AM |
What a cliffhanger. Jane you're an evil, evil, evil person!!! How dare you leave us in suspense like thise?
(Truly magnificent :D) |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Two
Posted: 02 May 2004 08:01 AM |
| I'm completely hooked ... Not boring a bit ... Ack! I shoved Ilyana at the beauty pageant. What the heck was I thinking? |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Four
Posted: 21 May 2004 12:31 PM |
Part Four.
((Possibly not for young eyes, a warning just in case !!))
The streets were quiet this spring evening and rain fell softly but determinedly across the Port. It was dusk, and even darker than might be expected due to the clouds that covered the sky. Candy was dressed more demurely than was the norm for her and was smiling to herself as she walked towards a particular house. She knocked softly on the door. A man answered looking tired but handsome for his age. Candy judged him to be in his late forties, but she was pleased that her work tonight would be no chore.
“How can I help you ?” the man asked.
“Hello, my dear, I am Ella” Candy spoke in a soft voice with no rough edges, quite unlike the voice Ilyana had heard her use “I hoped that your wife was home, please may I speak with her?”
“No, I am afraid she is out with my daughter, it could be an hour or more afore she returns” Pieter replied and realized that the rain had soaked through her shawl, hair was plastered to her face and she was trying to control her shivering. He saw that she looked upset by his answer.
“Please do come in and wait Ella, sit by the fire and dry out your clothes. I am Mara’s husband Pieter” he offered.
“Oh thank you kindly” Candy’s face brightened and she looked relieved, but mainly because for her plan to work, she needed to be inside with him.
Pieter lead Candy to the living area and added a few logs to the fire. It had been a warm spring morning, but the rains in the evening had brought a chill with them. Candy removed her sopping wet shawl to reveal that she was wearing a flimsy summer dress. This was also soaked with the rain and clinging tightly to her curves. She seemed oblivious to the fact that the rain had rendered her dress almost completely transparent. Pieter also did not appear to have noticed this, a little to Candy’s annoyance. He went into another room to get a towel and a comb for Candy.
“What did you want Mara for?” he asked, passing her the comb and towel when he returned.
“I had heard of her skill in weaving, and had hoped she would teach me” Candy replied and gestured at the beautifully woven rug while smiling. She rubbed herself with the towel, causing various parts of her to jiggle in a way many men would find alluring, yet Pieter paid her no notice. She combed her hair into place.
“Many women at the market place have remarked on her weaving, and with my Mother passing on so young…” she left the sentence unfinished sounding sad.
“Oh I am sure she would help you, she is always busying herself showing various young ladies the best ways to weave or sew or knit” he smiled as he thought of his wife.
Candy realized that this was going to be harder than she expected. This man was obviously very much in love with his wife and was not going to be easily persuaded into the compromising situation she had been paid for. She shivered a little.
“Might I be so bold as to suggest a cup of tea?” she smiled brightly at him “I have a new blend of tea, just arrived on the last ship from Midor”
Pieter furrowed his brow, realizing the ship she mentioned was from a competitor to his own Captain.
“Very well then” he filled the kettle and hung it over the fire, busying himself with setting out mugs and spoons.
Candy pulled out a packet from a bag she carried and proceeded to carefully unwrap it, so as to not let too much air in and spoil the flavour. She put the packet on the table.
“Please may I have another towel, or blanket” her teeth chattered a little
“Of course, I apologise for not having offered you one sooner” Pieter looked a bit uncomfortable, not being entirely familiar with all of the social skills required for entertaining.
He rushed out of the room to get another towel for his guest. As soon as he was gone, Candy quickly delved into her bag, pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid and deftly dropped two drops into the mug nearest Pieter’s stool. She stoppered the bottle and put it back in her bag, just as the kettle came to the boil. She went to the kettle and using the towel to take hold of the handle, she filled both mugs with water, and spooned some leaves from the packet into each mug. Pieter returned, just as she was settling the kettle onto the hearthstones near the fire. She smiled up at him.
“Let it infuse a while to get the full flavour” she pulled her mug a little closer to her and stirred it gently, while blowing on it to cool it. The next few minutes passed in a silence more uncomfortable to Pieter than to Candy. Eventually deeming his drink to be cool enough he started to sip from his mug. Candy smiled inwardly to herself and sipped at her own tea.
”This is most delicious, there is a hint of mint with chamomile I believe” he guessed at the blend while smacking his lips. Cindy watched him to see when he would react to the drops she put in his tea. Slowly he started to slump down on the table they were sitting at. He had a blank expression on his face, although his eyes were open. She put down her own mug and went round to him. She eased him off the chair onto the floor and proceeded to loosen his clothing. She removed his shirt and untied his trouser lacings, she tugged his trousers and pants down below his knees. He expression remained vacant throughout her meddling. Then she pulled her own clothes around so that her dress was pulled up to her waist and the straps to her dress pushed off her shoulders to reveal her ample bosom. Next she pulled another bottle from her bag, this one larger than the first and filled with a rusty coloured liquid, she gulped down the contents swiftly. This potion gave her the strength she need to drag Pieter onto his knees and position herself in front of him, then she pulled him backwards so that he was on top of her. From the door it looked exactly as she wished.
Candy waited a while, just lying there with Pieter on top of her. After another few minutes she could feel him stirring and realized that the drug was wearing off. She started to kiss him all over the face, while moaning to him
”Oh Pieter I did not realize you were as attracted to me as I was to you, I am so glad you feel this way too” she plastered more kisses over him, holding him wrapped in her arms.
Pieter started to awaken as if from a deep dream. His vision was hazy, but he could feel the warmth and softness beneath him. He felt the kisses and heard the moans from Candy and started himself to feel aroused. He had no clear idea where he was or why he was in this position, his body reacted as if he had woken to find his wife amorously caressing him. He started to kiss Candy in return and groggily fumble his hands over her.
Fortunately for Candy, as the drug was starting to wear off completely, the front door started to open. Ilyana stood in the doorway looking down at the couple. Candy noticed her arrival and carried on with her ravishing of Pieter. Ilyana suppressed a wicked grin and gasped, “Father!”
Pieter who was almost fully aware, but oblivious as to who he was with, turned with shock at the sound of his daughter’s voice. He rolled off Candy abruptly, grabbing at his trousers to cover his embarrassment.
“Ilyana…” he started to reprimand his daughter for bursting in without knocking, when he realized something was not quite right. He looked over to Candy, who was hurriedly putting herself back into her dress. His look of anger turned to shock and amazement as he saw the woman on the floor next to him. He remembered her coming in and he remembered kissing her just now, but he could not recall why.
“Father how could you?” Ilyana spluttered.
“Where is your Mother? Is she with you?” he asked desperately.
“No she is talking with Mrs. Miller down the road” Ilyana sounded close to tears.
“Please my dear, I did not mean for this to happen … I am not sure how” he looked confusedly at Candy as he fumbled at putting his clothes straight.
“I understand” Candy sniffed indignantly “you are a married man looking for a bit of excitement and nothing more”.
“Please, you must leave, Mara cannot find out about this” Pieter looked at Candy imploringly
Candy drew herself up haughtily, picked up her bag, snatched up her shawl and stormed out of the door, winking to Ilyana on the way out.
“Poor mother” Ilyana reproached her father. She went to the table and picked up the mugs, throwing the remains of the tea down the kitchen sink. She rinsed the mugs and put them away in the cupboard. She seized the towels and comb that were scattered about and quickly put them back where they belonged.
“Thank you Ilyana” Pieter said wearily, “we must not tell your mother of this it will break her heart.”
“Then why did you do it?” Ilyana looked at him accusingly.
“I...I truly do not know” he mumbled forlornly.
“Well then perhaps if you do something for me, to make me happy, then perhaps I shall not tell” Ilyana coldly stated.
“What is it that you want?” he sighed, seeming at a loss for what else to do.
“I have heard of some archaeological ruins in the desert, a good days walk from here through Buckshire and beyond. They are rumoured to have unearthed a tomb filled with treasures. Go there for me, take your sword, bring me back what you find.”
“But I am a sailor” he exclaimed “I will not survive in a place such as that, it will be crawling with creatures of undeath, I am no fighter”
”Well then” Ilyana sighed “there is no other choice for me then, mother really should know what kind of man you truly are.”
“Ilyana how can you be so selfish as to twist this situation so that you get something for yourself?” there was an edge of anger in his voice that she had not heard before.
“You are the one who was…was with that woman, don’t you preach to me” she snapped back at him, even though his anger scared her a little, made her realize how far she had pushed him.
Pieter thought for a moment. He was trapped in this situation; he loved his wife dearly and could not believe what had compelled him to lie with that woman Ella. Yes she was beautiful, but his love for his wife was built on a deep understanding and trust. He could not break that trust. He must not. His own life would be over. Yet to venture into a tomb?! He must try, for Mara’s sake.
”Very well then daughter, I will do this for you” he spoke softly and sadly, wishing his daughter was more kind of heart than she seemed.
”Thank you father!” Ilyana’s face broke out into a beautiful happy smile and she ran up to hug her father. He couldn’t help himself despite all that had happened that day he hugged his little daughter back again.
The door opened again and a weary Mara walked inside and dropped her shopping bags to the floor and removing her soaking headscarf and coat.
”Oh just look at you two” she laughed happily at seeing her beloved husband and daughter hugging each other tightly. She walked over to the two of them and joined in their embrace, throwing her arms around them both.
Pieter looked down at his wife and smiled a little worriedly, he was happy his wife was not hurt by his unusual reckless behaviour, yet he was most concerned about what Ilyana had asked him to do. He hoped that perhaps Ilyana could be persuaded to change her mind.
Mara looked lovingly into her husband’s eyes and down at Ilyana, oblivious of the worry in her husbands eyes. It was wonderful for them to all be happy for a moment. Ilyana so often seemed upset, disappointed or distant, it was heart-warming to see her happy. She hoped that perhaps she was finally growing up and accepting the simple life they had, and that there could be many more moments like these.
Ilyana looked up at her father and mother and her smile widened as appreciated that first part of her plan had worked. She was now certain that her father would go to the tomb and bring her back untold riches. She would be able to set herself up to live in luxury for the rest of her life. She could leave home as soon as he had done the deed, what a relief that was to her, to be away from this ramshackle hut. She would be able to tell Versucci she no longer needed to work there and that she would become a customer buying his beautiful designer clothes. And the jewelry she would buy at Omiga’s would be exquisite.
Her future was working out just as she dreamed, her face was a perfect picture of happiness.
To be continued…
((probably two chapters left to go now, hope you are all still enjoying J)) |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Four
Posted: 21 May 2004 12:45 PM |
| WOW! -Great- Stuff Sol! :D |
Vives Screenshots!
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Four
Posted: 21 May 2004 11:04 PM |
You're kidding right? I love this stuff, we need at least ten more chapters.
-Ken |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Four
Posted: 22 May 2004 04:24 AM |
| I may not be playing, but I'm still reading. Superb piece of writing here Jane!! I truly love it! :) |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Five
Posted: 14 Jun 2004 01:40 PM |
Part Five.
Pieter tried to look confident on his walk to the desert, although he definitely wasn’t feeling so. He had lied to his wife again, telling her that his boat was sailing for a few days. As this was something he regularly did, she had no cause to disbelieve him. Yet knowing that he had outright told her a lie wrenched his guts and made him feel sick. He knew he was doing what he did to protect her, that his anguish now was nothing should she ever find out the truth of that strange evening. Mara had much more faith in Ilyana’s temperament than he now did, it would tear her to pieces to comprehend exactly how black her heart had become. He had tried to convince Ilyana many times that his going to the tomb was folly, yet she would not listen. And so eventually he had had to give in to her blackmail.
He had prepared as best he could for this outing. He had adorned some leather armour. A friend had once given it to him, intending for it to be altered into a jerkin or somesuch, as it had long since lost much use as armour. Yet it was better than his cotton clothes were; yet he feared it would give little protection if he were attacked by anything.
An iron sword swung at his side, his father had given it to him many years ago. It was little better than a practice weapon, but again it was better than a kitchen knife, which had been his only other choice. On the way through the Buckshire coastlands he had also picked up a heavy chunk of driftwood, shaped like a club and tucked it in his belt. He had heard tales from fellow sailors that swords were useless against undead creatures, so he hoped the wood would help.
The trees started to thicken as he followed the path away from the coast and closer to the woods. He had been sticking close to the tree line where he could. Close enough to the trees to hide in their dense growth if he should need to hide from sight, yet near enough to the path that he could keep away from any beasts in the wooded areas. Past the town of Buckshire itself, the trees thickened densely in front of him, leaving no choice but to stay on the narrow path. Feeling very exposed, with little places to run he cautiously pressed onwards. He tried to reassure himself that the guards in Buckshire were not far behind him. He knew he was very fit and could run fast if aught else failed.
Having just walked round a tight bend in the path Pieter stopped in his tracks. A cougar prowled the path in front of him. It had stopped with its back to him, and was sniffing the air. Pieter glanced behind him, judging the run back to Buckshire. The cougar growled low in its throat, it was female and must have young nearby, it sounded threatened. The cougar slowly turned to face him, the growling growing louder and deeper. Pieter drew his sword and attempted a warrior’s stance, balancing his weight unsteadily on the balls of his feet. The cougar pounced for him, leaping the twenty foot distance between them in one bound. Pieter put two hands to his sword and lunged forward, thrusting at the soft belly of the cougar mid-flight. It was a well-aimed blow, and cut the cougar straight through the rib-cage to the heart. It fell to the ground blood gushing from the clean, incisive wound.
Pieter dropped his sword to the ground, breathing heavily. He had been frightened for his life, yet instinctively he had acted well to defend himself. He took this as a good sign. He leaned down and wiped his sword clean on the grass near to him, looking sadly at the cougar. He wished it had not attacked him and worried about the cougar cubs that may starve now that their mother was gone. Sighing heavily he cautiously started off down the path, once again sticking to the edges of the trees.
Round another bend he spotted two men in the distance. They were not far away, and they would find it hard to see him sheltered by the foliage. He looked them over carefully, judging their intent. They were heavily armed, but seemed at ease. They seemed fairly settled, tending to a camp fire, laying out bedrolls, occasionally looking around to see if anyone approached. Pieter decided they were best avoided. He would be lucky to make friends here, more likely they were foe who could defeat him easily, so best to walk the safer road. He kept a close eye on them as he made his way to the entrance to old Buckshire ruins, sneaking through the entrance when they seemed busy talking to each other.
As he entered the wooded area, he realised that he would have to be careful here also. He knew very little of tracking, but noticed the droppings of boars and the foot-prints of bears. He walked softly through the forest, standing still when he heard a rustle nearby, and only proceeding when the sounds had moved away.
The lush green forest grew more and more sparse, soon giving way entirely to the sandy wastes of the desert lands. Pieter managed to avoid the gaze of three Krenshar beasts near to the forest entrance and made his way through the desert. It was late in the day, yet the sun was still hot. He was glad he had had the foresight to bring water with him. He sipped at his water-skin, grateful for its relieving some of the oppressive heat. As he stopped he looked around to take in the surroundings. The sun was starting to set, leaving a pinkish glow on the edge of the sand. He appreciated this beautiful view for a few moments then jumped in alarm at a sudden pain in his leg, dropping his open water bottle onto the ground. Looking down he saw a snake in the sand recoiling for another bite. He clumsily drew out his sword, and wildly swiped at the snake. His swings managed to stop the snake from biting him again, and eventually with a desperate lunge he managed to chop the snake in half.
His arm ached with the effort of using the sword he was so unfamiliar with and his leg had an agonizing pain where the bite was. Despite the heat he shivered. In the distance he noticed a large tent, the canvas blended well with the desert and he had not seen it before. He struggled his way towards the tent, hoping to find someone to aid him there. It seemed far further than he first thought, and after what felt like hundreds of steps he sank to the ground. His vision was blurring and blackness threatened to overwhelm him. Lying on his front, he started to crawl towards the tent, knowing he would not be able to stand again. The pain had spread all through his left leg, he wished his sword was sharper, so he could just chop off the leg and be rid of the pain. Red and black swam before his eyes. He was no longer sure which direction the tent was in. He slumped into the sand and faded into unconsciousness ........
((This is taking much longer to write than anticipated, but it's great fun doing it)) |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Six
Posted: 21 Jun 2004 07:00 AM |
Part Six.
A cool breeze woke him. The pain was completely gone and he felt like he floated in the air, the bed he lay on was so soft. He could hear quiet giggling in the distance. He looked up to see a pretty young lady fanning him.
“Wh…where am I?” he asked puzzledly
A friendly looking man with a broad grin on his face loomed into view in front of Pieter.
”Who have we here, who comes to our desert so ill prepared?” the man cajoled him with laughter in his voice
”I…I am Pieter” he answered weakly
“Well, your wound is treated and the poison is gone from your body Pieter. We keep treatments here for bites from the snakes and scorpions that infest our sandy lands. You would be well to rest here a while and are welcome to enjoy my hospitality” the man lowered his voice in a conspiratorial whisper “To tell you the truth it would be good to have the company of a fellow male, my wives can grate on the nerves after a while” he winked at Pieter and laughed heartily.
“Wh..who are you Sir?” Pieter was trying to take in the strangeness of his host, surroundings and situation and finding it quite overwhelming so far.
“Why I am Ender” the man grinned puffing out his chest “the man with the most wives on Vives”
“I see” said Pieter feebly sinking back onto the bed
Ender let Pieter rest for another few hours. When he awakened Pieter was allowed time to bathe in peace. He dressed in the suitable desert attire provided by his generous host. He then joined Ender at his dining table for his evening meal, for a full day had passed since he had succumbed to the snake venom. The food was delicious and there was plenty of it. Ender was obviously taking immense pleasure in having a guest to dinner. Pieter’s glass and plate were never empty. Ender regaled Pieter with a few wondrous tales from his own past, but also was inquiring and attentive to Pieter, and as such managed to get the whole tale from Pieter as to how he had ended up here. The look on Ender’s face became bleaker and bleaker as he heard the tale of how Ilyana had blackmailed Pieter into lying to his wife and risking his like to seek out riches for her.
”I have heard of this tomb that was uncovered by an archaeological dig. It is infested with undead mummified ancients and other vicious creatures” Ender sounded serious
”Then I stand no chance there then, I have no choice but to return empty handed. I am sure my daughter would prefer me to come home alive and poor, rather than to die in a tomb.” Pieter flatly stated
“No my friend there is another solution” Ender’s customary jovial grin had returned to his face “I the great Ender will accompany you! I had retired for adventuring to settle here, but I have become bored of late. This is just what I need to add some sparkle back to my life, and add another tale to tell at dinner” he sounded extremely confident and Pieter looked hopeful again.
”You know the whereabouts of this tomb then and can defeat the beasts within?” Pieter sounded a little hopeful
“Of course my new found friend, together we will vanquish any foe we meet! And the riches of the tomb shall be yours to give to your daughter.” Ender’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of adventure.
Ender took Pieter to some crates, sorting through their contents to find some items of use to Pieter. He helped Pieter fit himself out with a light chain armour and a mace imbued with magics to enable it to damage more and strike more accurately. Pieter also took a sturdy tower shield, so that he could defend himself better. Lastly Ender presented him with a magical amulet, that when worn around the neck so that the amulet touched his armour, the magics permeated the chain links to strengthen them further against attacks. Pieter tried everything on to ensure that it fitted and he felt comfortable using it all. He wasn’t sure if Ender gifted these items to him, or if he should return them after their excursion, it was hard to get a word into the conversation to ask. As they tried out the items, Ender insisted on telling the full tale as to where each piece originated. He told how which beast he had bested to win such treasure, the cunning trap he had deftly avoided, or the devious bartering he had negotiated to get the bargain. Pieter was dizzy from hearing each tale, but relieved his partner was so experienced.
Eventually they both retired just before dawn, with the intention of traveling the next evening and avoiding the glare of the midday sun. Pieter was exhausted not only from his body recovering still from the poison, but also emotionally tired from his own problems and additionally from having listened non-stop to tales of his hosts audacious escapades. Pieter tried to sleep, but his mind was still a whirl with thoughts. When he had first set out, all he had been concerned with was how he would survive long enough to recover the treasure. Now that it seemed like he might actually succeed, his thoughts turned to the problems he would have with explaining his return home laden with treasures. Let alone the fact that he would be giving all of the treasure to Ilyana. What was Mara going to make of that?! He eventually fell into a fitful sleep, filled with nightmares of his wife leaving him and Mara scolding him for failing until he was wizened and grey.
The next evening came too quickly for Pieter. Despite Ender’s confidence, Pieter was still filled with dread over the task they were about to undertake. Ender’s wives efficiently busied around the tent. They ate a light meal and then equipped themselves for their journey. The time seemed to drag endlessly for Pieter, who was most nervous about the task they were to undertake. Ender’s previously interesting and jovial tales now grated on him and he was sure many had been repeated. After what seemed like many hours they were finally ready. The sun was setting across the desert and the sky was filled with reds and oranges. A more beautiful sunset Pieter had never seen, but he ignored it now as he quietly followed Ender towards to the archaeological dig …… |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Seven
Posted: 24 Jun 2004 07:32 AM |
Part Seven
Pieter and Ender arrived at the dig site after an hours walk. It was much cooler after the sun had set. Ender lit the way for them with a magical ring that bathed them in a low light. They soon realised that all at the dig had retired for the night and so they cautiously made their way to the entrance. Huge stone doors, their cracks filled with sand, barred the tombs. Ender marched up to the doors and pried them open. Although it seemed the archaeologists had not yet ventured inside, the doors swung open easily. Ender rushed inside, Pieter following more slowly.
Once inside they pulled the doors shut behind them. They stood a moment, their eyes readjusting to the pitch black dark. Although it had been dark outside, the starlight had also guided them. Inside their only light was Ender’s ring. He drew his scimitar and raised his sword arm in the air, so that the ring cast more light around them. Suddenly Pieter heard a hissing sound and froze. Ender had heard the noise too, and had lowered his arm to shed more light on the floor. They both saw several snakes slithering towards them. Ender merely chuckled and as soon as the snakes were within reach he swept his scimitar at them, cutting them all into halves with curving slashes. Pieter watched this with growing relief. It seemed to some extent that Ender had been truthful about his prowess.
Ender ventured further into the room, at the far end the corridor split in two. Ender motioned to the left passage, watching warily behind Pieter followed him. In front of them the passage split in three again. Ender shrugged and turned right this time. The passage turned and ended at a doorway with a statue of a winged beast in front of it. Ender walked around the statue and up to the door. Just as Pieter was pondering that it was an odd place to locate a statue, the stone covering on the statue broke. It came to life and lunged for Ender with its clawed hands. It’s back to Pieter; he lunged for it inexpertly with his sword. While Ender looking unsurprised, turned and hacked at the creature with his scimitar. Between the two of them it was soon dust on the floor.
The door opened into a room filled with sarcophagi secured to the walls. Ender walked up to the first one curiously and opened the door to it, jumping back in surprise as a creature bound in bandages lumbered out of its coffin and shuffled towards Ender, moaning dreadfully. Pieter who was standing nearby looked horrified as this undead creature appeared. His knees nearly buckled under him, but he managed to run as far as the doorway, and stood there cowering in terror. Ender slashed repeatedly at the mummy, his cuts were deep and precise and the mummy was too slow to hit him. Soon enough the mummy was a pile of rags on the floor. Ender found Pieter and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“It is gone my friend. I suggest we leave the other sarcophagi alone” he laughed a little nervously
“It’s eyes were g..g..glowing I swear” Pieter still quivered facing the door
“Drink this Pieter” Ender pulled a flask from his belt and Pieter swallowed it in one draft. A puzzled look crossed Pieter’s face.
“I am not sure what came over me there, I think the glowing was only from your ring reflecting off its face” he sounded much more confident and walked over to where the rags lay on the floor
“Mummies have a magical aura about them that sets fear into the hearts of the bravest men. The potion will strengthen your will against them. But be sure to let me know when you feel the effect wearing off.”
Pieter nodded and they carried onwards. Between them they defeated another handful of mummies, before progressing down the corridor. Pieter became braver and more certain of his sword strokes. They turned a corner to be faced by another cloth clad being. Ender charged towards it fearlessly, and immediately attacked it with a flurry of blows. Then urgently he called to Pieter,
“Pieter” he panted at the exertion “come help me, this one is stronger than his fallen friends”
Pieter ran to aid Ender and between the two of them they managed to best this warrior mummy. Both had a few scratches from its claws. Ender applied some salve to their cuts and soon the wounds had closed up and vanished. Pieter shook his head in astonishment, totally unused to the many wondrous and magical things Ender had introduced to him.
Down the end of the next corridor was a set of stairs. The pair descended cautiously, deciding to head straight onwards from the room they arrived at. In front of them was a door. Ender gingerly opened the door and then charged in. Pieter followed him, more courageously than before. As he ran through the doorway he saw Ender battling with what looked like a globe of light. The ball was pulsing and occasionally smaller spheres of energy darted out and hit Ender, scorching him where they landed. Pieter charged in to aid his friend and together they damaged the ball enough to seemingly dispel its energy back into the surrounding air.
Several more rooms followed each with varying numbers of these strange lights. They dealt with each one more deftly. In the last room Pieter noticed a small chest in the corner and his eyes lit up. He rushed towards the chest, hoping to find it filled with the treasures he sought. Ender looked up from his last kill to see what Pieter was doing and urgently shouted out to Pieter to stop. Pieter hearing the shout tried to halt his run and to turn back to Ender, but his momentum carried him forward to fast. Just as he was about a foot from the chest he felt the floor give way slightly beneath him. A jagged bolt of electricity arced from the ceiling from a now exposed gap. The lightning bolt hit Pieter squarely on his chest, Pieter immediately doubled over, the wind knocked out of his lungs, his whole body wracked with pain. As the electricity dissipated from his body, he fell forward to the floor, his arms flung out to brace himself against the chest. As his hands touched the chest a ball of fire erupted outwards. The explosion caught Pieter’s arms and face. Pieter bounced off the chest and fell to the ground, not moving.
Ender cried out in horror, yet had enough sense not to rush straight to Pieter. He cautiously approached Pieter’s still form. Keeping away from the chest, he dragged Pieter’s body away from the lightning trap. He was fairly certain its energies were spent, but was still wary. He shook Pieter gently and rolled him onto his back. Pieter’s face and arms were burnt very badly. His skin looked like angry red candle wax that had been left in the sunshine. And he lay without moving, Ender could not tell if he was even still alive. Ender recoiled a little in horror at the sight. First he tried pouring a green potion into Pieter’s mouth. A tiny amount seemed to go in, but he was not sure whether Pieter swallowed, or if it was trickling into his lungs to drown him, so he hastily stopped. Then he tried a little of the salves he had with him, gently daubing them on his face and hands, but it made little difference.
Ender sighed. There was nothing for it but to return to his tent and seek out a cleric to aid Pieter. Possibly even to restore him to life. Ender pulled a dark orange potion in a square shaped bottle from his pack and downed it in one draught. Then with no effort at all, he put all of the spare items in his pack and slung Pieter over his shoulder and then set off at a brisk walk to leave the catacombs.
They arrived back at Ender’s tent in a couple of hours, the potion enabling Ender to carry Pieter all this way and with reasonable speed. He returned home before daylight.
Pieter’s recovery was slow. He was unconscious for several days. There had been no way to reach a cleric, so Pieter’s body had healed itself the best it could. Savage burns covered his face, neck, arms and hands. He looked hideous, but was glad to be alive. He could barely see, since his eyelids were melted mostly closed over his eyes. He had lost the use of his left arm and the other was barely functioning.
His convalescence had allowed him to come to a decision, one he knew he should have made before he even set out, to return to his wife and tell her everything. There was little chance she would believe Ilyana over him, she loved and trusted him and would understand why he had done what he had. He believed Mara could forgive him. He had no idea how Ilyana would deal with this, but he was determined she should learn a lesson in morals from this. And last of all he hoped that his wife could still love him, as ugly as he now had become.
Three weeks after he had originally left home on this journey, he set off again to return, knowing his life was changed forever ………
((Not sure if this is geographically correct in terms of directions in the tomb, but it's near enough *grins* Hope it's okay to use the Vives NPC characters like this in my history :)) |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Eight The End (or the beginning)
Posted: 10 Jul 2004 05:40 PM |
Part Eight
Mara was delighted in the change in Ilyana over the past few weeks. She had
helped around the house without a complaint; occasionally asking for extra
chores to keep her busy, now that she had stopped work at Versucci’s to
concentrate on her education. By contrast, Ilyana was deliriously happy to
know that soon she would be out of this dingy hovel. If she had to clean it
for another week or so, that hardly mattered compared to her grand future.
She daydreamed of selling the treasures her father brought her back to
various rich merchants she knew through their custom at Versucci’s. She
imagined the jewels and dresses she would wear. She also knew that if wisely
invested her wealth would grow and soon she would live in a mansion in the
rich district of town. She sang happily throughout the cleaning, sewing,
darning, weaving and cooking.
The weeks passed quickly. Mara had no cause for concern, Pieter’s shipping
trips often overran due to tides changing and the Captain having to keep
traveling to sell on perishable wares in time to maximize on profit. Ilyana
started to worry a little as time went on. She knew her Father was not
worldly wise, but he was a strong fit man, she was certain a few undead
could not defeat him. Yet as each day passed her worries start to nag at
her, spoiling her anticipation of her future.
Three weeks after Pieter had left, Ilyana slept soundly in her bed. Her
dreams were filled with dancing with Lords and Ladies at a grand ball held
by the Queen. Then suddenly she awoke. Her room was dark and no light came
in through the gaps in the shutters at her window. She knew it must be the
middle of the night. She sat up slowly; still smiling as the emotion of her
dream gently ebbed away. Her head jerked towards her door, she heard her
mother crying. Quietly getting out of bed, she crept up to her door,
pressing her ear to it. She could hear her mother sobbing and her father
speaking rapidly and urgently in muted tones. Ilyana frowned crossly, what
was going on? Had he failed? She sighed quietly, she was stupid to trust
that he could do what she asked, his foolish honesty had come in the way.
She was certain he must be telling her mother everything, why else would she
be so distraught? A cruel smile came to her lips at the thought of her
mother finally discovering what she had done to her father. Then she shook
her head crossly realising that things would become unbearable at home now,
and her perfect future was most likely ruined. She knew she must think
quickly so as to turn this situation to her best advantage, and that may not
be much at all.
Ilyana turned her door handle as quietly as she could and opened the door a
crack to better see her mother and father’s conversation. Her eyes took a
few moments to adjust to the light. She could see the outline of her mother
sitting in a chair, her back to Ilyana. Mara was slumped forward, head in
hands. Her Father stood facing her, looking down at her mother. Suddenly her
father’s features became clear in the dim candlelight. Her eyes took in the
full horror of him, slowly scanning his melted eyes, his livid red
disfigured face, his crippled arms. Ilyana’s eyes were fixed on him, her
mouth wide open in horror as she found herself unable to turn away from his
repulsive face. She barely managed to resist the urge to scream by clasping
her hands to her mouth, suppressing any sound. Deliberately she tore her
eyes away from him and stepped back into her room. She retched at the image
in her mind; barely holding back the bile gathering in the back of her
throat. No wonder her mother had her face buried, she thought.
No more encouragement was needed. She pulled a canvas bag from under her
mattress, it had the remains of her gold in there. She stuffed her best
clothes into it and crept out of the window. She had no desire to be held
accountable for her actions, and even less desire to see her father’s face
in plain daylight. She shuddered at the thought of him, he revolted her.
Better that he had died than to half-live as the monster he had become. More
fool her mother if would stay with such a hideous creature.
Ilyana made her way out of the city. Destination was the last thing on her
mind. Her first plan was only to get away without being seen. Having
succeeded at that, she tried to think where she should go. She had traveled
north out of the city, avoiding the dock areas, where she may bump into
people she knew. Having worked for Versucci, she knew Midor would be a good
place to find work, but had little idea how to get there by foot. She
stumbled on in the dark, but keeping to the path and away from the northern
dock areas. As daylight approached she found herself heading towards an Inn.
The sign swinging in the breeze outside named the Inn the Four Winds. Ilyana
warily pushed open the door to a quiet common room. She noticed a few guests
drinking or just sitting, all unaware of the hour. The Innkeeper seemed
prepared to receive guests at all times, so Ilyana paid for a room and went
immediately there to get some rest and more importantly carefully plan her
next steps. Lying down on the bed, exhausted from her walk and early rise,
she soon sank into a deep sleep.
A loud knock at the door awoke Ilyana some time later. She had no idea the
time she had slept, yet felt refreshed for her sleep. Without any thought of
danger she opened the door.
“Hello dear” a lady dressed in red plate mail stood at the door
“Yes?” replied Ilyana a little crossly, Ilyana recognized the woman from a
brief glance around the common room when she had entered the Inn. At the
time she had notes this lady’s beauty. Now she had a chance to take in the
fullness of it. The plate metal seemed exquisitely tailored rather than
smithed to hug the woman’s curves. Her red hair was cut short, yet perfectly
framed her beautiful face.
“May I come in?” the lady asked with an enchanting smile, flashing her
pearly white teeth.
”Very well” Ilyana’s tone softened at the smile, but she was wary as to what
the woman wanted.
“First I shall introduce myself, I am Lani” said the woman sitting herself
on the bed, leaving Ilyana to stand
”I see, well I am Ilyana Weaver” and she waited to see if she would find out
what this lady wanted.
“You are very pretty dear, a pity about your hair being so messy and your
dress is a little old” she sounded a little disappointed.
Ilyana said nothing, but looked a little sad as her eyes dropped from Lani’s
face to the floor.
”Come nearer child, I will brush your hair” Lani pulled a comb seemingly
from nowhere. Ilyana perched herself on the end of the bed and Lani gently
combed the tangles out of Ilyana’s hair. She used a little water to smooth
down the more unruly sections. Ilyana inspected her reflection in a small
looking glass in the room and smiled at herself.
”Thank you Lani” she said appreciatively. By now Lani had stood and was
looking through Ilyana’s bag of clothes. She pulled out Ilyana’s best dress,
not surprisingly a red colour that matched her hair perfectly.
”Put this on dear, it is warmer with the long sleeves, and suits you better”
Ilyana pulled off the dress she wore, which was a little worse for wear from
clambering out of windows and walking through the night. She washed her
face, careful not to disturb her hair, and pulled the newer dress on. Lani
helped to do up the buttons.
”Now dear, come and talk to me in the common room. There is a warm fire
there and we will get you a bowl of broth to break your fast” Ilyana opened
the door for Lani, carefully to locked it behind her. Then Lani took
Ilyana’s hand and led her to the common room.
All eyes turned to them the moment they stepped through the door. Lani
gracefully accepted comfortable chairs by the fire that a young gentleman
tripped over himself to offer her. After they had been seated a minute, the
conversation level returned to its normal murmur. Lani ordered some broth
for them both and then sat staring into the flames for a while. Ilyana
followed her example, still emotionally weary after all that had happened.
She watched the flames dance and fall, noticing with fascination the hunger
with which they fed on the wood that fuelled them. Then she thought of the
fire that must have devoured the skin on her father’s face. She grimaced
slightly and then turned to realise Lani had been studying her face.
”So why have you run away from home then dear?” Lani asked smiling again and
speaking gently, she had noted the odd look that had passed over Ilyana’s
face, but chose to ignore it for now.
Ilyana suddenly realised it was fairly obvious that a young girl, with few
possessions, was easy to spot as a runaway. She was not sure where to start
and how much to tell, although what she had seen so far of Lani she liked
very much.
“I wanted to find a better life for myself” she said determinedly
“I see, better clothes and finer things for you to enjoy?” Lani spoke
softly, in a reassuring way. Ilyana smiled brightly, finally feeling here
was someone who just might, possibly understand her.
“Yes! My parents could barely afford to feed us all, let alone buy me what I
needed” Ilyana blurted out
“Needed” Lani quoted the word Ilyana used as if thinking it over and
nodded. She looked at Ilyana kindly.
”You should come with me Ilyana, I can take you back to my temple and train
you as a Cleric of Naruth. You will have everything you could ever need
there.”
“Naruth?” Ilyana could say no more with her surprise
“Yes Naruth. I am High Priestess of the temple. Naruth is Goddess of beauty,
fire and fury. I can see all three are strong within you” she noticed Ilyana
flinch slightly again at the mention of fire “do you have something against
fire dear?” she watched critically as Ilyana answered.
“M…my father…… he…..he ….. had an accident with fire” Ilyana looked a little
pale, she knew nothing else could have damaged her father other than the
power of fire.
”I see, it sounds like a punishment if you ask me. Do you think he could
have done something wrong?” Lani sounded still concerned despite her words.
“Well I suppose he did really” Ilyana pondered this new concept, and it
sounded right to her. Of course he had done something wrong, he had let her
down terribly. He had obviously let himself down to. And now his mother
would also be disappointed in him. Yes, it seemed the only thing he had done
well was to disappoint others.
Lani let the thought sink in and was pleased with Ilyana’s reaction.
”You could learn to control the power of fire, your father was obviously not
strong enough” Lani spoke gently yet firmly.
”You can learn to control the fire of the fury that lies within you, to
smite your enemies with the power of fire that takes away life. Your may
also aid your friends, to heal them and renew their life with fire should
they fall” Lani added talking passionately
”Flames can give life too?” Ilyana sounded incredulous in her naivete.
”Of course. Those who have earned much favour from Naruth through their
studies and dedication, can command the fires of life back into a body, it
is a most wondrous sight.” Lani stated
“And I might learn to do this?” Ilyana sounded awed
“Yes dear. I believe the power is within you” Lani smiled at Ilyana “learn
to master the fire and all the riches, the power, the respect and admiration
you have ever craved will be yours to take”
Ilyana looked at Lani smiling brightly. How wonderful to have found someone
so beautiful and so understanding. She felt like Lani was her long lost
mother, finally come to rescue her from her dreadful life. From this short
meeting she already had great respect for this woman who knew so much of the
world and the way life should be.
“I shall be delighted to come with you Lani, one day I hope to be a great
Priestess like you” Ilyana smiled her most dazzling smile.
============
((I hope you all enjoyed this and I hope I have more time now for posting
about IG events. Please feel free to post feedback and constructive
critisism )).
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- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Eight The End (or the beginning)
Posted: 10 Jul 2004 06:06 PM |
'tis so beautiful.
-Barnas |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Eight The End (or the beginning)
Posted: 10 Jul 2004 06:08 PM |
She's selfish, delusional, vain, full of averace, petty, and hateful. She's a perfect example of true evil. Not over the top evil, or obvious evil, but subtle evil, the kind that you are unaware of that gnaws at your soul, and by the time you know it's there, it's too late.
Nicely done, Solitare. I think llyana would give Vidus a run for his money.
Mykal |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Eight The End (or the beginning)
Posted: 10 Jul 2004 06:12 PM |
But she's still not as evil as Fri'el!
...or me, for that matter. Now... where's that scroll of Raise Dead... and where's that stupid centaur corpse...
Oh, and Ilyana is too sweet to be evil.
-Barnas |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Eight The End (or the beginning)
Posted: 10 Jul 2004 06:34 PM |
Nooooooooo, no more Hatti, ever.
Please !!!!
Thanks for the lovely feedback Mykal and Barnas :)
Jane |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Ilyana Fiirhaart - Part Eight The End (or the beginning)
Posted: 10 Jul 2004 07:24 PM |
| Great background. Finally got to reading it (all 8 parts) and I'm glad I did. Thanks for sharing! |
Three sisters, born of the Sea
A sad fate t'was in store for thee
Oh Vaisha, Vahlah and Vallaesha |
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