1. This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn More.
  2. Greetings Guest!!

    In order to combat SPAM on the forums, all users are required to have a minimum of 2 posts before they can submit links in any post or thread.

    Dismiss Notice

Gypsy Sweet, Gypsy Sour

Discussion in 'The Hooded Crow Inn [Fiction]' started by Bryelle Vaughn, May 11, 2011.

  1. Bryelle Vaughn

    Bryelle Vaughn Journeyman
    Stratics Veteran Alumni

    Joined:
    Oct 4, 2009
    Messages:
    220
    Likes Received:
    40
    Blond hair lay in waves over delicate shoulders as pristine nails positioned the mass of locks just so. A firm belief that one should appear their best no matter the deed at hand, Kesla Fawn detested laziness in ones looks. Eyes as blue as the glacial snow in the Northern Sosarian regions gazed at the crumpled figure before her. Moving her hands down the bodice of her own midnight gown, her gaze raked over the others attire. A tattered skirt of maroon lay caked in mixture of mud and human tissue. The later of which, brought a smile to Kesla's face.


    "She should never have turned her back." Kesla spoke as if the broken woman were capable of listening. Her spirit long since having left her body, vacant brown eyes could only continue to stare into the heavens above. "A mistake she is about to regret."

    Until now, the hulking male to the right had been relatively unnoticed save for when he snapped the raven haired Gypsy's neck like a beef steak at a tavern night. He moved now, clunky and low, handing a small vile of what he had drained from the now lifeless corpse before them.

    The corners of her mouth turned up as she took the vial and examined it. Age and weathered decisions etched themselves across what was once a flawless alabaster face. "Dispose of if it," she said gesturing to the woman. "Burn it if you wish. It is simply Gypsy Garbage." Turning quietly on her heel Kesla set out for the nearest Arcane Circle...
     
  2. Bryelle Vaughn

    Bryelle Vaughn Journeyman
    Stratics Veteran Alumni

    Joined:
    Oct 4, 2009
    Messages:
    220
    Likes Received:
    40
    Once a stop on their various ports-of-call, Britain was both welcoming and hauntingly different. There were rumors of what currently ran the town. While she would gladly have provided them with all of their needs, from Blood to slaves, to trinkets of necromantic importance: dealing with the creatures on a personal level was not a thought she relished. Get in.. do it.. get out. That singular thought crossed her mind repeatedly as she headed for the bank.

    She had only to wait an hour before the majority of West Britain Bank cleared out. Hastily taking advantage of the solitude upon the streets, Kesla strode into the middle of the Arcane circle. Her own skills in the art of weaving spells was lacking. But the Blood of a family member, an ankh that belonged to her adoptive daughter, and a few various other high powered items would make her own skills irrelevant.

    Not wasting a moment she combined the artifacts. The ankh dripped with blood, herbs, and pieces of cloth as she lay it at her feet within the circle.
    Having done her research well she began to utter a chant she had paid handsomely for.

    Shores of hearth and home you find.
    Gypsy yours, Gypsy Mine
    Cast upon times sweep of sea
    The Aftershock it brings to thee
    Known and silent bonds removed
    Tossed into the Shattered Hues.
    Gypsy sour, Gypsy sweet
    Wander eternal, incomplete​


    No sooner had the last syllable escaped her breath, when the ground beneath her shook. A crack of lightening split the sky in two striking inches from her and sending her hurtling backwards. Coming to rest against the grass line, she flailed her hands out to try to catch her fall. For a moment, blue lit up the night sky. Brief, bright and terrifying to any who may have seen without realizing what was going on, it vanished just a quickly.

    Lacerations covered every inch of bare skin Kesla Fawn had. Achingly slow she pushed herself up from her tossed position and half crawled, half walked to the middle of the arcane circle. Gone was the ankh, cloth, herbs and blood.

    A smile that even the demons themselves would fear crept across her face. "It's done."