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Shadow's Bidder
Posted: 29 Dec 2006 06:10 PM |
Kalid stomps her way to the pillows of the Four Winds Inn, angry and sad.
She plops down and takes out her yellow journal, with a jar of black ink and a yellow quill. She Flips the book upside down opens the cover to a blank page and begins to write:
There is a rumor that I do not like going around about me. The people of Vives call me a minion… and not just any body’s minion, but Valethrion’s minion! *ink splatters*
This wouldn’t be so bad if I wa- no I am not gonna say that. Why can’t they get my master straight!?! I work for the “shadows” Not for some elf! (Whom I think I’m falling for) STUPID GIRL! Why can’t people spread rumors about the infamous Kalid D’mar?Oh that’s right I’m not famous … yet.
Speaking of Shadows; I was punished… again. I won’t say what happen, for it still hurts when I think about it. Well truthfully I am still hurting. I feel like I got skinned alive and then shoved back into my own body, limbs missing the proper holes then jerked around so I can fit properly. A bit weak yes, but it will pass in time. I can tell that I am weak, I robbed a man named Shard, but fumbled and he caught me. I didn’t have the strength to duke it out with him or lie to him, or come up with something cunning… I just ran away. Didn’t get very far, he used a spell on me, kicking my legs out underneath me, making me motionless. *she sighs* The shadows are going to have a field day with that one. I would love not to tell them about it, but they know. I would also love if they gave me proper work. But something is on their minds. I can tell. The place where Ziggy works is covered in darkness. I know this is my masters doing. Oh well this gives me some freedom from work, although I do love the misery I bring. I wish I could bring heaps of misery to that stupid human, Vike. Life would be so wonderful. Messing with Shard would be nice too. *She smacks her lips once*
Well if I had my way, I would trick every last one of them and bring them to the boss man him self. He loves every one after all…*A giant ink stain*
Welp I need rest. The last punishment took a lot out of me. Still weak. Till then my sweet little book of doom. Don’t worry about me, for I shall have sweet dreams of being the best KALIDMAR!
She closes her little yellow book and tucks it along with its components away in her bag. She stretches her blue body out on the pillows and falls asleep |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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Harder than You Think
Posted: 28 Apr 2007 02:31 AM |
There is something about the Undercity; possibly the fear people endure, or maybe the fact that her lord is so close by. Whatever it is, she feels at peace with herself. Sitting in the Hall of Champions, the shadow's-bidder sits with a sullen expression on her face. She shifts in her spot, keeping a keen eye out for anyone who might enter, hoping the loving “ex-Syn” Mortifier might grace her with his presence. As her yellow eyes keep a harsh glare in the way of the door, her hands rest on the arms of the throne, a familiar ink tube in one hand. Her vision begins to blurr and her head becomes lighter, and she realizes she is holding her breath. Deciding nothing is going to happen, she breathes a heavy sigh and props up her little yellow book to take to writing. Holding the ink tube over a blank page in her book, she ponders, and then writes:
An Adventure and it's Reward
"How does one learn the language of an enemy? How hard would it be to learn it from them? It wouldn't be that hard to learn. . .
. . .Would it? Could it be so easy to betray a friend (if it comes to that) and still be called a heroine? The task that has been given to me sounds impossible. The task is impossible, yet I still have to do. . .
I am to blend in with the Atalan, and learn to be one of them. To walk with them, talk with them, out-smart them. I am to find that one thing the Atalan's want. In the process, I am supposed to use what the hin calls a “gooder” to help me.
She stops writing a moment, and giggles to herself.
He's a fool, that hin. Just like Daimon said. The task must be something important to him, must be so important that he is desperate enough to bribe me with the foolish idea of hope; hope that I will have my name sought out and praised by the gooders. Oh well, he does not know what I am. I do not wish to be famous, well, not in that way. I've never cared much to be good or to be recognized as a gooder. It's just not. . . me.
When he saw he could not buy me with his misguided idea, he tried to attract me with a reward. I laugh still. What I want and crave, he cannot give, that's another story.
*She glances at the door, tapping her pen, before continuing*
I have, however, decided to take his mission, not for a reward or for fame, but for the pure joy of deceit. I agreed to his task for the joy of deception, of spying and coming up with lies to cover my tracks, of doing what it truly means to be Menarokian, of doing what needs to be done in the name of my lord Menny!
So I accept this mission, a mission to learn what the Atalan's truly want. He thinks this is the only way to win the war, to find that something and hand it over, but I'm pretty sure things don't work that way. I'm guessing the thing the Atalan's really want is more of an idea, more of a concept than an actual thing. . . but I could be wrong.
She stops writing again to reconsider her words.
I have started the mission already by relieving an Atalan assassin of his mask and armor. Talion and I had decided to go on a stroll to the forest outside of the trading post, and one of their silly assassin's came running after us. . .
Poor thing. . . Don't think he knew what stabbed him in the face. After he fell, I stripped him of his camouflage.
She taps the ink tube, splattering the page with ink.
Come to think of it, perhaps I don't need the garb. Perhaps I can weasel my way into them by convincing them I hate the gooders. . . I'll hold on to the clothing for now, as this could still possibly be a good plan “B”. I will talk to him about it. Enough here
She takes the time to read over what she has written. Satisfied, Kalid slams the book close with her slender fingers, and grins, looking up in time to see the vampire vanish. |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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It took a weeks vacation to forget him.
Posted: 06 Jul 2007 01:50 AM |
Day 1
After she relived anger out in the castle of Gorlath, Kalid finally sat down in the throne (very evil) in Nethar'u. She was tired, angry, sad and, just plain disturbed. It killed her to see that Tristian was happy without her. Then again, Val was right, he didn't know what love was, and his heart was just as hateful as hers.
She really didn't want to reflect on their last meeting, but it was running around in circles in her brain. Kalid took out some tobacco and placed it in Timik's pipe that she had pilfered before she left. She struck a match and begin idly puffing. Kalid couldn't fathom why Tristian wanted to be around the one person that threatened her life on a constant basis. Why? That's not love. You don't hang around the person that threatens your lovers life... do you? She groaned and shuddered as the tears kept falling. And then, there was his harsh words. Trisitan spitefully called her by her real name. Kalidmar Gacy. As soon as the words escaped his lips, the memories and unwanted reminders came gushing over her.
A reminder:
That she was still a bastard daughter of a missing bard.
She lived an urchin life amongst the trees and foliage of Latoni.
A memory:
Of the night her younger sisters life was taken..
It had always been a faded stain in the back of her memory, but that night in the halls, it re-soiled it's self. She held her head as the visions of her sister's painful death played it's self over... and over... and over. Then mixed visions of Tristian and Macha. Macha's hateful words, as well as his. She inhaled hard on the pipe, the visions nearly knocked her out of her throne, if it hand not been for her grappling onto the arm of the chair.
A long forgotten voice rang out in her head. “Enough!” The tears dried quickly and the memories started to fade into that familiar, dried away stain. She propped her self proper back into the chair and let her mind to continue to wrap and coil around Tristian. He was happy, what else could she do? Nothing, except take this long vacation in The Hall of Champions. Who could possibly miss her anyways? Her mind was starting to be come clouded from the intoxicating fumes she had been inhaling. The lack of oxygen that wasn't getting to her brain was most relaxing. “Fine, if he wants be friends with my enemies then let him. He's nothing to me now. This just proves that he's liar and no better then I!” It had occurred to her that he was much of a Menarokian as she. He may not accept, or acknowledge it, but her lord could be buried deep inside of his soul.
She smirked picking up a book that caught her interest on the way out. “Your Shadow and You, Vol. I" by Blisting Evoknuin. It even came with a star shaped cookie shaper (but for the special edition only). 3000 and 1/9 of pages long. She with distorted features, opened the book and began to read in peace. |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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It took a weeks vacation to forget him.
Posted: 07 Jul 2007 04:26 PM |
Day 2
The peace pipe stayed in between her black painted lips. The smoke was continuous, never did she allow the embers to extinguish. Her glassy eyes read over the last sentence of Chapter-Before-the-Actual-Story. (A.K.A Prologue, 500 pages long) She looked up from her book, with an amused expression one her face, fascinated gaze in her yellow eyes. “I had no idea! dang that Lazlo!”
Kalid turned her attention back to the book, and slowly reached behind her, producing a small leather pouch. She propped her knees up, hooking her heels some where at the base of the throne (very evil) steadying the book, much like a podium of flesh and bone. With her free hand, she took some more tobacco from the leather pouch and packed it into Timik's pipe. She in held redding the embers to kindle the newly placed leaves with the old..Kalid felt good, it's been three days since she felt this good. Her body tingled and her emotions content. Why she never thought of this before she didn't know.
As she continued to read, the lettering on the pages begin to swarm. They jumped through her mind, swirling spinning and addressing out loud what each and every syllables were. It was almost as if she could hear Blisting read them aloud to her. She could understand there secret meanings, the words between each letter of the word it's self. Whispers echoed and sunk into her brain, colors and images dashed behind the irises of her eyes. It tingled and felt completely refreshing. She was becoming addicted to each and every syntax written before her. More, she needed more. Kalid laughed lightly as she continued to read the gnomish context.
Truth be told, the book was really inverted, upside down, and only made sense to the gnome that wrote it in the first place. The fumes were poisoning her mind, giving her a false sense of every thing. This was what she was after. Something to free her mind clear of the world above. She didn't realize it had worked so well, or the fact that being alone with no fresh air or sunshine was simply clouding her mind, covering her in isolation insanity.
It was not long before the book slid off her knees to the floor and her fast asleep in the huge chair. She subconsciously tucked her cloak around her and begin to dream things that would never make sense to anybody, not even her self. All she knew and cared about was the fact that they were colorful and felt comfortable to her. |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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It took a weeks vacation to forget him.
Posted: 08 Jul 2007 04:02 AM |
Day 3
In the morning:
Kalid sat in the throne, her glare was hard, her posture intense. She jolted up out of the throne and began to pace back and forth. The Hin's pipe continued to rest between her lips. She looked out into the empty hall and started to speak.
“You have been called on, my fellow comrades, for a very important task.” She looked back out onto the empty hall. “It would seem that the Harpy Queen and I have come to terms with each other. We are tired of battling each other every time we cross paths. Thus, a truce has been called. In order for our truce to take effect, we need to rally up her stolen child, a rescue mission if you will.”
Kalid stopped pacing, “Pardon? Ah yes, Claude, my number two. Right well I was just getting to that.” She puffed in the pipe and snapped her fingers. Billy Boo, her shadow “assistant” appeared. He was utterly confused as to why he had been summoned, but kept it to himself. He looked around the empty hall then back to his summoner.
She continued, “Billy Boo will now hand each of the squad leaders a fully detailed and outlined document on the mission that has been assigned to me. Take this time to read over them and accumulate any questions you may have.”
Kalid turned to her shadow, “Billy Boo if you would. . .” She motioned for him to pass out the scrolls. He blinked. If the shadow could speak, he would have told her that she had gone off of her rocker. The problems were:
There was no such army in the halls.
Not a commander;
Claude
Jethro,
or
Giffard.
Heck! There was not even descriptive outlines on the rescue mission she just assigned. And yet to please his master, he weaved in and out of the empty hall, hoping this would some how satisfy her. She smiled, then inhaled, “As you can see, I've taken the liberty to scout out Whelmaina, or Whelinah or whatever the heck it's called. Turn to page four. There you will see a map of the island. The “x” marks where the captive is being held. . .”
The incoherent Kalid kept discussing the mission in full, leaving nothing out. It was not long before an arrow found itself in her right hand. She had snatched it from mid air. She tried to focus on the archer but quickly began to calm down the army of non-existent shadows. “It's alright, it's alright! It's not the Dandy. . . Shh. . .shh” The Shadows calmed down. Looking down, Kalid spotted the hin. She worried. How much of their plan did he hear? Kalid could here the whispering of the confused shadow army. She took over again, putting Ashe aside. “You have your mission. You know your part. We will depart at sunset!”
Kalid turned her attention back to Ashe, coughing as the smoke continued to pollute her lungs. He spoke to her. She talked back, making little or no sense at all. Before long, Kalid dismissed herself from the conversation to rest, for she had a long night ahead of her.
* * * *
At Sunset.
The army of non-existent shadows clustered together in the Halls of Champions exactly ten minutes before sunset. A door was heard opening and closing. Kalid came marching out, pipe still in her mouth. She marched out in front of the chairs, arms held behind her back. “Gentlemen, it's time for you to go forth and complete your assignment. I wish each of you the best of luck.” She nodded then pivoted to take a seat in her throne (the right one) to view the shadows exiting the halls.
Her back was arched the length of the back of the throne. She could not have been more proud than she was right at that moment.
An amused chuckle came, “Oh my, my. Kitty, you are the most ridiculous thing ever.”
She closed her eyes slowly as the voice was not hers, nor that of her lord’s. “Mm. . .You don't need this, it's bad for you. .“ She felt the hand wrap around the pipe and take it from her mouth with a slight pressure on her forehead. The voice sighed in mocking exasperation, “I suppose there is no way I could talk my kitty out of leaving this place… Could I?”
Kalid lowered her head. “No, mainly because I know you aren't here. You always were my saving grace, Dandy, but I need this time to myself.”
“Well at least you have not forgotten me.” A playful tone then came from his lips, “I figured you would have when you left me at the apartment, not giving me time to explain myself..” The last bit became an echo, reverberating within her skull. . .
She opened her eyes slowly. Nothing remained; no shadows, no Billy Boo, but most importantly, no Dandy. |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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It took a weeks vacation to forget him.
Posted: 09 Jul 2007 03:39 PM |
Day 4
It was now the fourth day of Kalid's vacation. She had spent most of this day pacing the Halls of Champions waiting to hear back from one of her four commanders. It was not long before she began to consider that she had possibly accidentally skipped a step in her outline. She turned back to, “Your Shadow and You” Vol. I by Blisting Evoknuin. From what she could tell she had done every thing correct. Kalid let out a heavy sigh and walked to the center of the empty hall. She laid down, staring at the hall's ceiling. She began to chant, which by degrees transformed to singing, the same words over and over.
“When will you realize you’re already there?
So watered down-your feelings have turned to mud.
’love everybody’ is destroying the value of
All hate has got me nowhere
I know I’m slipping, I know I’m slipping,
I know I’m slipping away
Oh no, it is everything they said it was
Oh no, I am everything they said I was
When you get to heaven you will wish you you’re in hell
When will you realize, you’re already here
You’ll thank us now that you have crossed over
Don’t pick the scabs or you will never heal
The world shudders as the worm gets its wings”
By the twentieth recitation, a visage appeared beside her, looking down upon her sprawled and scattered frame. It took the form of Tristian Vike. Her heart began to race and she stood. With a sharp breath she ran quickly to the Hall's bedchamber. The visage appeared again, a more solid and unrelenting reality. Kalid blinked and furrowed her brow as she stood to address the vision. She considered, “What's he doing here? or. . Is he even here?” Tristian stood for a minute facing her in silence yet sending her harsh messages with the depth of expression in his eyes. Unnerved by the spectra, Kalid pushed herself up against the frame of the doorway. She covered her eyes, banishing him from her sight. The heavy foot falls directed toward the door indicated his departure, and as Kalid uncovered her eyes, she witnessed door opening seemingly of its own volition and closing on the remnants of her and Tristian’s relationship. She ran her fingers through her blue hair. “Was Tristian just here or was that…something else?” she asked her self as her hand fluttered to her breast.
She shrugged and went back to the room she’d been occupying. Donning her war gear she headed toward the Hall's main door. Given their failure to return, Kalid went to discover the fate of her soldiers and perhaps the Harpy Queen. Upon reaching the nest, the Queen was nowhere to be seen. There was no sign of the captive anywhere. She shrugged and headed back for the Hall.
Pivoting on her heel she came face to face with the queen her self. “I don't think my men have made it back with your captives yet, your majesty,” she said hollowly from within her helm. The harpy queen looked her over and let out a terrifying screech. Kalid winced. “I'm not sure when they will be back bu-” she was suddenly cut off when the queen's hand reached back then struck Kalid across her helmed face like a clapper striking its bell. Kalid was flung back a few feet from the queen, her right hip, landing on a sharp rock. She screamed as the stone sliced through her garments and drew blood; her hip clunked painfully in its joint, a gnomish cog wrenched out of alignment. Kalid's rage clouded over the pain.
She took heavy breaths and pulled the shadows over her to give her chance to recover and retaliate. The Harpy Queen could still see her, but as a mere outline of the elven woman’s figure. Despite the pain that ran through Kalid's hip, she hopped up and slid one of her many daggers out in preparation. She shifted behind the harpy, lashing out at its shoulder with the blade. The harpy screeched from the pain, flew up and over Kalid, and swooped down towards her injured and hampered target. Helpless to evade, Kalid was grasped in the harpy’s wicked talons and tossed into the gate with a crash. Kalid screamed in agony as another sharp pain throbbed in her upper right thigh. She made a fist and hit the ground in furious pain; her leg was useless.
She breathed hard and looked up as the flapping descended. Kalid swallowed, plucked out another dagger, and rolled on her left side. Spotting her target on the rapidly descending bird-woman she waited for two ragged breaths before hurling the blade and burying it deep in the she-beast’s skull between its hungry eyes. The harpy tumbled from its flight screeching and wailing, clawing desperately at the weapon lodged in her face and in a moment was gone. Kalid laughed aloud in victory, then winced as she moved and realized her condition.
Her lower right side had become completely useless. Any applied pressure put on her right leg made her cry out in agony. Regardless, Kalid collected her cobalt staff and braced herself upon it to return to the halls. Shutting the door behind her and collapsing against the near wall she trembled as her mind raced at high speed upon a broken track. Though she barely realized it, she was lucid enough to know she needed help; the halls echoed her lonely whimpers, her mental cries for aid came back to her undelivered. She groaned and lurched to her Hall's room, weak and exhausted.
Kalid slid on top of the bed and rolled over to look at the buttressed stone ceiling. The voice came back to her, “Kitty what have you done to your self, hm?” Kalid smiled deliriously at the playful tone. “Is this going to happen every time you leave me? You get silly ideas to go on vacations to the dark places and get mangled by harpies?” She chuckled and replied giddily, “It was only the Harpy Queen, you bastard.” There was a moment of silence as the dream caught up to the potential.
“Pffft.” Kalid smiled once more, as he broke the silence in his expected answer.
She closed her eyes softly and asked, “Will you be here when I wake up?”
Kalid pictured him laying next to her, touching her face and her hair as she drifted off into a painful sleep.
“Most Certainly.”
((The chanting lyrics are brought to you by Marilyn Manson's "Wormboy" (Antichrist Super Star. Track: 8 ))) |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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Welcome to the Closing
Posted: 13 Jul 2007 06:38 PM |
End of Vacation/Nameless Object
Kalid D'mar sat on her bedroom floor with different colors of fabric surrounding her. She was slowly cutting a pattern out of a beige cloth. Her mind was still on loose ends, this time from lack of sleep. She no longer had someone to lay with at night, a significant problem for her to cope with.
She continued to cut. Her mind wrapped around the events that had happened in those few days at the end of her vacation…and most importantly, the conversation she had with Val about warm milk, a bed time story, and needing something to hug and hold.
She sewed the cut pattern to its reflection, only the cloth was a light blue.
After her lord so bluntly let the world know that she was his follower, her friends (if there were any) had all but evaporated. She had fallen to Menarok's demon and was resurrected by Menarok himself with some of the more skilled and accomplished personalities of Vives in attendance as witnesses. (Alton, Salt, Tristian, Ophelia, etc., etc.) She was alone again..
She took the needle and sewed one green eye onto the beige fabric and one yellow to the blue.
Kalid thought about the bar and the letter that had been waiting for her when she came back from her vacation.. The waxed crest was stamped with an intricate D.R. in the foreground and two crossed rapiers in the back.
She sewed an erect auburn ear with a soft pink center lining atop the beige portion of the fabric.
While Kalid made facile conversation with the party that supposedly saved her from the demons of Nethar'u, the letter itched in her pocket badly needing a relieving scratch. It was not long before the gathered group lost interest in her and she quickly broke the seal and read the letter.
“I'm in town for a short period of time, now would be the best time to come see me.”
Signed
Daimon Rabianara
Her heart sang to this singular bit of good news. She was hoping he could be of some help to Ashe and his soul problem. He'd been around the world, had been through some interesting stuff and he knew just about every thing the world had to offer. . Why wouldn't he know?
She sewed a dark blue ear on top of the light blue fabric.
Kalid went to her room to store the letter and came back to see the tavern had emptied all but for one man. She idly walked up to the bar next to him and inquired of Margaret who brought the letter. She told Kalid a hin brought it. Tristian looked side long at her and reminded Kalid that she wanted to talk to him. There was conversation. It ended with the standard ultimatums that he generally gave her. He kept looking to the door; she assumed that he wanted to leave. She walked to the door and he followed as expected. Her mind was numb and sought respite from his gaze. Kalid walked faster and stated that she couldn't keep Mr. Rabianara. He gave her a warning about seeing him. She didn't care, they were no more.
She stuffed the head with cotton she had picked from Saber Island.
There was a knock on the door. There was an answer. Kalid's heart skipped a beat when she laid eyes on him. It had been a long while. He, however didn't seem to be too happy to see her. It was clear this conversation needed to be quick. He let her in and she sat on the sofa closest to his room. She asked her question, he gave a dissatisfying answer. He didn't know who The King of Hearts was. She frowned and decided to leave. He asked her if she was leaving and she said she could stay only a little longer. They talked about personal things…things that turned her shattered insides into a glitter of self loathing. He hugged her for what may be the last time and she left.
She slowly sewed the head onto the mismatched body.
Kalid made her way back to her apartment and laid on the bed, allowing the new feelings to enter her soul house and like assassins in the night harshly stab, squeeze, rip, cut, burn, drown and wrench the fragile inhabitants within. She tried to sleep, but it wouldn't come. She dazed off clutching her stomach, hearing a knocks on her door, but refusing to answer. Every time she moved, her body would scream at her for trying. Her mind was failing. The knock came louder, then soon the visitor departed. There might have been a call of her name, but she refused to listen.
She crimped stiff blue wire and attached it to the blue side of the pink nose, making blue whiskers.
It was the next day when she had the discussion of milk, story, and stuffed animals. Val was starting to worry about her. He could see she was starting to take comfort in her loneliness and feared she might hurt herself. It was also clear that he was the only person she'd allow herself to talk to.
Kalid thought about her life. Never in her hundred and twenty six (almost seven) years did she ever own a stuffed toy. In her sleep deprived mind this was now the most important goal. Later that day she went to gather sewing materials to make her very own stuffed toy.
She attached the last bit of whiskers (auburn) to the beige side of her creation. It was finished.
Kalid's Bunny
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All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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Birthday Wishes.
Posted: 18 Aug 2007 11:44 PM |
Today was the second unusual day of Kalid's life. She had planned this day very carefully, for today was her birthday. She was now 127 years old. She had meant for her plans to go something like this:
Get up, find a dress (since the previous one she bought was not what she had hoped for), sell the old one, go for a small walk, make her way to Latonei for a small celebration at her sisters grave site.
Instead, her day went something like this:
Got up, got dressed, sold the old dress, made cash, went for the morning walk off the coast, ran into a fair amount of undead in the daylight...
Kaild stopped, dodging the undead's spells and grabs, confused as to why there was so many undead during daytime hours. One quickly struck at her and dragged its claws across her face, another one cast a malicious spell, making her slightly weaker. More and more, they swarmed around, surrounding her. She began to get really agitated. As quickly as she could, she tapped her amulet, encasing her body with the amulet's bark. She then summoned her ghost wand and quickly spun in a circle, activating it. With her holy sword (which she still has not understood why it has not yet consumed her) in one hand and the wand in the other, Kalid went to town slaughtering the undead. In a circle and at her feet, she look at the semi-circle of corpses she just got done dropping. Kaild groaned and decided rest was needed, as she made her way back to Port Royale.
She made one step in the direction of the city, when a lonely acolyte was contemplating a dead cow at it's feet. “Oh hell I missed one,” she thought. She pulled out her bow, nocked an arrow that ignited, and shot it. The walking corpse did not stir from his hunger for the dead cow. This brought a sense of amusement to the elve. Kalid shouldered her bow, making it vanish in a cloak of darkness around her, and unsheathed her holy blade (that has not yet consumed her). She proceeded in walking up to it and smack it with her blade over his back, leaving a nasty, divine burn. Once again, the undead did not stir form it's rotting dead cow hunger.
“Ahem!”she cleared her throat, announcing she was behind him.
It quickly turned and started to attack. The undead growled at her, she snarled back. The undead blinked with whatever eye lids it had left and tried another intimidation.
“You will fall to our master!”
Kaild smirked and looked him, “Yeah, him and the rest of Vives!” they continued to circle each other. The undead stopped, and blinked at her again, scratching it's flesh rotting head in confusion and amusement. “You sure are a calm one," it told her. She stopped circling him as well and sheathed her blade, as he proceeded to the rotting cow and pick what parts it hungered for and begin to eat. Kalid smirked as she watched him. “Oh was I suppose to jump? Scream? Run? You were after all doing nothing more than fetching this here dead cow,” she stated looking the masticating zombie over. “In fact, I feel kind of bad for shooting at you..." she finished.
It looked at her, smacking and gurgling the rotten cow flesh in it's mouth, studying her for a moment longer then spoke.
“Come with me,” he mandated politely as undead can.
“Um. . ok. . “
She followed him into Nebwood where more zombies, trudged and scuffled around an abandoned camp fire. They became hungrily interested in her and started to consume her with the same mannerisms as the previous ones. She frowned and took her blade out one more time. “You should call them off. . “ panting as the first ones strike and then then another, “If you don't want me to kill them.”
The undead didn't seem to care about her request and instead replied. “Join us and our lord! Become one of us!”
Panting, Kalid responded. “No thanks, I'd rather not...” she struck another undead down, whilst quickly spinning around to block another one's hit and then came swinging back, lading her blade across it's neck, “...piss off Menarok.” About that time she had slaughtered the undeaders that had once again caved around her. Kaild sheathed her blade once more turning back to the zombie. “Besides, if it was not for his followers, you're lord would not have his army anyways.”She looked at the zombie thoughtfully. “In fact, I think the two lords are allies.”
The undead looked at her once more with an amused look. “Is that so?" She nodded in response. “Well, prove it. Better yet prove your worth to my lord.”
Kalid was never the type to prove her self to anyone. That's not what she was after. What she was after was the challenge. She could tell this was something to look further into.“Oh, how so Chuck?”
“Bring us dead bodies!" The faithful of Gukathul beckoned. "Lots and lots of dead bodies!”
Kalid went silent for a moment, thinking deeply. She then broke the silence: “That's it?”
“Lots and lots and lots. . . .” As he was still mentioning lots. . .
She thought to her self and then snapped her fingers. “Where do you want me to bring them?” Clever tone in her voice as she eyed the newly deemed Chuck.
“...lots, Oh, what? Oh, here... Bring them to the temple!”
She grinned to her self and ran to a place where fresh bodies where already stacked and ready to be measured and buried: the slums of Port Royale.
Kalid stealth her way to the slums, all the way up to the body collector, Ander Cargin. He was standing boorish and guarding his cart as if he were guarding his children. She appeared in front of him and bluntly stated: “Your wife needs you."
He coughed and looked the dark elf over, from the tip of her helm to her feet. “Help? With what? Tell her I'm busy!”
“She's loaded with customers! The salts nearly gone as well as the acid, she needs you to fetch more. That and she thinks you've been avoiding her.”
Ander eyed her warily, and it was clear he did not believe one word she was saying. Kaild started to curse at herself for not planing this out, she just needed him to get away from the cart. She discreetly got a blindness and deafness scroll ready, when Ander started to grin at her wickedly. Kalid blinked under her helm and pointed at him. “That's cute.”
“You think so? Tell me why are you really here...” If Death himself had a certain style of hitting on people, Kalid was sure this is how he would do it, for she could tell Ander was measuring her up and down.
“Tell me, what's your situation with pine?” he asked her.
“Cut it out. I won't be buried.”
The peasants of the slums began to swarm around them, trying to listen in on their conversation. Kalid could feel the art of irritation building as they would walk up and then away. Ander continue to grin wickedly at her. More words were shared. Finally, Ander breathed in and said: “Smell that? Is that not the most wonderful smell ever?” He thumbed over the dead bodies in his cart. Up to now, Kalid had not let him know she was interested in his cart and the main reasons she was there. But she looked at it nonetheless.
"Actually I find the smell appalling...“ she stated with a thoughtful look in mind.
He winced and gasped. Kalid finished off quickly, ”But I've smelt worse...“ thinking back to the day's of Talion and Pete. Another peasant walked up. Kalid's last nerve broke, for she was much enjoying her conversation with Ander Cargin. She nearly forgot why she was there in the first place. She looked back to Ander, and stated, “Pardon me a moment.”
Kalid walked to the center of the square, grabbed a hidden bag of gold from her belt and tossed the gold in the air, aiming for the center of the square. She watched the metal glitter and gleam in the gloom of the slums. As soon as the metal impacted the ground, a male peasant shouted:
”GOLD! LOTS AND LOTS OF GOLD!”
Soon there was more shouting of gold, and everyone cluster to pick it up. Kalid watched passively. Her eyes suddenly widen with wicked delight, as one peasant screamed a profanity to another, and the other shot back and was soon throwing his fist across the air to hit the first peasant that called him the name in the first place. A riot had broken out right in front of her. Kalid stepped back laughing, amazed at how well that worked, at what she had done.. Little did she know that it worked too well. She turned her attention back to Ander Cargin, but blinked to find him flying past her. He flashed in her view for he himself went into the crowd. Kalid blinked again as she watched him pick up gold along with the frenzied peasants, then eyed the cart of dead bodies. She quickly closed the back and mounted the ox, smacking the ox's rump to move.
After living with a ranger for so many months, you learn something or two about how to control animals, and so Kalid was driving the ox cart, steering said ox with small stabs, dead bodies piled in the back. She tore down the ally way of port and through the small bit of square, knocking down Kusin's hut that he stayed under, and out into the opening of the coast, hidden on the ox's back. To the rest of Port, it simply looked like an ox cart gone rampant. More undead had taken the time to hitch a ride, wanting the prize on the ox's back. Kalid had not notice them until she made it to Nebwood, few feet outside of the temple. She quickly stabbed the ox in the head killing it instantly, bringing the cart to a screeching halt. She panted as she looked around and then quickly ducked as an undead swung at her. She groaned and quickly unsheathed her blade, swinging.
“Chuck!?” She called out trying to fend them off with out killing them.
“What's this?” Said the zombie to arrived, watching her fend off the other undead.
“Your dead bodies.”
“Are they fresh?” He asked.
“They...” She ducked and parried another attack, “came from the slums. People die there everyday.”
Grunting and panting. Chuck smiled and then started to attack her too. She did not ask why, for it was to be expected. Mean while a hotly tempered Ghoul was watching and sauntered up. He eyed the cart almost beaming with gloomy sunshine as he could see it was filled with dead bodies. “What is this?” he asked.
Frustrated with the question and the undead attacking her, she replied, “A cart filled with bodies like Chuck wanted.”
“You mean I wanted,” correcting her.
She sighed and continue to dodge the attacks, “They are so bad at this.” watching and dodging.
The ghoul raised his hand and in a scythe like motion swing it down. The undead zombies fell to the ground. “I was becoming weary.” He then turned his attention to Kalid and sauntered up to her.
“You have done a wonderful job, and shall be rewarded.” He looked over her like a master does a pet that obeyed him. She looked up at him.
“My, you have fantastic teeth. I don't want a reward. It's not why-” She was cut off by the hotly ghoul.
“You /will/ be rewarded...“
“No thanks, I know how you undead reward people.”
The ghoul merely laughed, and then said: “You'll see...”
“Are you going to put and undead baby in me?” The ghoul laughed louder. “That's not a NO!” She exclaimed.
He continued to laugh then stopped turning his back on her, and taking interest in the cart. “I'm growing bor-”
Kalid had turned and was darting for the exit, for she did not want to be cut down with an imaginary scythe. She ran all the way to the edge of Nebwood and Aquinas Coast, only to be intercepted by more undead. She dodge them and out the forest to the coast, only to have the Ghoul's laughter taunt her. Once again she was greeted by more walking corpses, along with the ones that followed her from the forest. Her deadly assassin skills kicked in and in no time, the lot had been minimized, leaving her to walk in undead slosh. She growled at the sight. Kalid trudged the way to port, leaving the sight of the mess for the view of the Pearl.
She felt like she needed to explain her self to either Moritfier or her lord.
Deep in the back of her mind she mused what she just did and couldn't help but feel a little proud. She smiled to her self and muttered under her breath.
“Happy Birthday.” |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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When you try and get involved-
Posted: 28 Oct 2008 08:20 PM |
It was raining. There was breathing that was not of her own. She looked over to her bed, and there he lay; her husband. Her yellow eyes blinked and then shimmered. He was holding a bundle. Their bundle. The Shadow Mage turned back to her little yellow note book.
". . . so I didn't go. I have to admit it made that anger knot in me tighten. Why not go? Why not try and learn more from the darkness? I want to be more powerful with it. Not. .to be one with it mind you, just enough to make an army of shadows. Claud, Gifferd, and Billy are simply not enough. I want more! Talion, however, said it would not be a good idea because of what I can do with the darkness. It makes me frustrated because I am getting really tired of everyone turning me away. I love my family, but I hate being borrowed for conversation, have my hopes brought up, and then get turned away. That's all I ever get."
Kalid felt her face strain as she was frowning in rage. She felt her mouth open and baring her teeth. She blinked and then relaxed, switching her expression to a pained one.
"It's times like these where I simply wish I could learn more dark magics. I want the world to fear me even though I wish not to do anything. If people aren't ever going to respect me, then I want to be left alone. I don't want their small talk or their false hopes of actually meaning something to this stupid world. I can do that on my own.
So I've started. There is a bit of land in Bowness Firth that I wish to obtain for myself. No one ever goes there and it's away from everyone. Valethrion and I have decided it's the best place for us to grow our relationship and, one day, our family. I've yet to ask the girls if they wouldn't mind Val and I living there. I hope they won't think it a problem...But who knows? Only time will tell."
Her hand taps the page with her ink tube and she yawns. Kalid shakes her head then smacks her lips.
"Rest calls. . till then.
MRS. D'MAR -Veziel"
Kalid looks down at her new signature and smiles. It makes her heart flutter every time she reads it. She places her spot in her book with her stylus, stands silently and takes her place next to her husband. He automatically wraps his arms around her and pulls her close without waking. |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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Re: When you try and get involved-
Posted: 03 Oct 2009 10:39 PM |
Kalid sat on her little bed at the Four Winds Inn. Now that lower port had been crowned ‘the Slums,’ the Broken Mask was not a very darling place to stay. She packed her things and made for the Northern Highway. So there she was in her pajamas tossing cherries in the air and catching them with her mouth. The rain pelted down hard on the roof, causing her to be restless. She was too tired to sleep, but tired enough to feel lazy. She sighed when the last cherry vanished into her mouth. It felt like a writing moment. Kalid pulled out her little yellow note book, and flipped to the last bound pages. She took her ink tube out and lay on her tummy as she wrote:
Today was a pretty good day. I spent all morning digging up sand then hauling it back to Buckshire. I was getting into the groove of things when Valethrion popped up. I was so happy to see him. We talked as he watched me work. I don't remember what we were discussing but both of us heard travelers shouting, speaking. “Which was is? North or south?” One of them asked. I had just finished my yield when Val and I heard them. We walked around the mayor’s house and on to the main road. A human, halfling, and half-orc stood there, talking with a guard. I didn't hear what the guard said, but he wasn't interested in talking to them. Instead, the small group approached Val and I. “Let's ask them maybe they'll know.” the human said. “Nah, they look suspicious.” the halfling retorted. “Well we are lost so I am asking. “ The human said. “Ask what?” I asked. “See look, they are already nosy.” I narrowed my eyes at the halfling then looked to the human. He looked at me, then the halfling piped up, “We are looking for LE-NA- UM.”
I looked back down at the halfling. Before I could get a word out, Val gave them directions. “Oh thanks.” the human said. “We'll be on our way.” I looked the helpless group over. It made me laugh inside. “You guys do look lost, real lost. I suppose you want someone to escort you there?” The halfling piped up. “No we got it, so. .Don't follow us.” I smirked and watch them leave. Val walked up and whispers softly, “So, we going to follow them?” I smirked, “most certainly.” And with that, Val and I were off.
I hid in the shadows and Val did his magic thing. We walked through the rain and up the trail to the standing stones. I walked towards the old city while Val was tracking them. It's cute how he does that. Upon entering the city, I looked around and didn't see the two orc guards. I started to head towards the catacombs, because that's generally where /I/ go when I'm visiting . .. the loot. It was the wrong way. The right why was up the observation tower. I felt silly. Good thing Val can track. .yeah?
. . .
We made our way through the haunting fog and down the long narrow stone bridge. The harpies were gone, must have been killed, and continued to the tower. From there it was pretty easy to follow the mismatched trio as there were wet foot prints, leading up the steps and up to the second floor. The sight was a bit. .nerve-wrecking. The human was on the ground, the orc was turned to stone and lo and behold, Vestlat himself was there.
Apparently, there was much missed as the halfling was on his knees, begging for his life. “P-p-please, I won't tell anyone about the mission. Spare me, please!?”
“Why? So more can come looking for it? More can come and steal from /my/ home? . .” or something like that. Vestlat looked up at Val and I, I still hidden in the shadow's and Val still invisible. “I don't know if I should let you go. I know more will only come to search for it. Maybe I should just end you and make an example of you?” Vestlat looked back at Val and I. I turned my thumb up down. “better yet, to be on the safe side. . “ Vestlat touched the halfling and was instantly dead. I smiled.
After that was over, I stepped out of the shadows “Well now that's over. . “ Vestlat looked at us. “You tell everyone that heads this way, the mirror is not here.” the lich commanded. I nodded, “For the record, we only followed them to let them know they were morons for coming in the first place.”
“Yeah and, wait what mirror?” Val asked, “never mind. .”
I turned him around towards the exit. “Not now honey, lets go.” I pushed him. We ran down the tower, to the main entrance and out. Both our hearts were racing. We went into the inn and sat around the fire talking about it. Both of us . . .discussed. . .yeah. . Discussed if we should or should not tell the others about this mirror, and after a tiring conversation, we came to the conclusion that Alton should know about this mirror. It's never a good thing when people start to meander into Vestlat’s kingdom. They'll only end up in his po- cauldron.
It was a small adventure but one worthy of noting.
Still the wonderful day didn't end there. I had more work to do, and Val kindly offered to help me gather sand. We made it to the island and played in the water before working. Both of us worked till the night came and the good sand was gone. Both of us became sweaty and exhausted and were relieved when the cool air hit. We lay around in the water, talking when a pelican came to say hi. The silly bird smelt rancid of fish, but was still smirking. I stood up as the night wind brought in more sand for us to gather. The bird followed me. I smiled at it and pretend I wanted to fight it by putting up my duckes. “Oh what, you wanna have a go around?” The bird swallowed my hand and started to tug on it. I screeched and tugged back. We were at our own little game of tug-a-war. I was pulling so hard, the pelican let go, causing me to fall on my bum. I saw an evil wink as he flew away satisfied. Val and I laughed about it. My hand smelt like fish for a while, but the sand eventually soaked the smell away.
Val and I got back to work a little before sunrise and finished early afternoon. We trudged back to Buckshire, made more flasks then came to the inn for a nice relaxing clean up. He's still in the bath.
This was a good day, time to relax some more.
Mistress Veziel.
Kalid sets her ink tube down, stretches and stashes her note book away. She patiently waits for Vale to come back so they could snuggle. |
All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."
Durellae Snorted "Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?" . . .
(Terry Prachett, "The Color of Magic") |
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