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
  3. Greetings Guest, Having Login Issues? Check this thread!
    Dismiss Notice
  4. Hail Guest!,
    Please take a moment to read this post reminding you all of the importance of Account Security.
    Dismiss Notice

The Pits Of Jhelom (part 7)

Discussion in 'The Hooded Crow Inn [Fiction]' started by Trillin, Aug 2, 2011.

  1. Trillin

    Trillin Guest

    The Pits Of Jhelom
    Into The Darkness, Chapter 7

    “Follow me, Brother.” The hooded figure said as she disappeared into the reflection of the moongate.
    Trillin stumbled behind, clutching his wounded shoulder. He was unaware of what awaited him on the other side, or for that matter where the moongate would even choose to take him, but he was sure it would be better than what was left for him here.

    His vision blurred as sharp lances of pain hurtled through his veins. Trillin had not anticipated the speed at which the poison would travel through his body, and his body was beginning to tire. The moongate drew him in, and a feeling, like water, trickled over his skin in the mere seconds it took him to arrive on the other side. The calm of the moongate released him, and the double vision and pain returned just long enough for Trillin to see his rescuer. The poison overwhelmed him, and as he stepped toward the cloaked figure, his eyes flashed red. Trillin collapsed and welcomed the dark where so many of his victims resided.

    A voice, thick with urgency, woke Trillin from the darkness.

    “Isaiah you must!” Trillin’s eyes slowly began to open, the smell of the ocean bombarded him. “You must take him in… Isaiah he is like me” As the darkness receded, the pain returned, and soon it became unbearable. He could feel his weight being shifted, carried up, jostled, until his mind shut down from the pain, and the blackness returned.

    The same voice forced the blissful darkness away. Only this time, a threat laced the calmness of it.
    “Take the gold, speak to no one. You will regret it, should you decide to betray me.” Sounded the voice. Trillin cracked open one eye, hoping to get a peek, even a blurry one, at his surroundings. All he saw were shapes and colors. Unrecognizable in his hazy state of mind. . “As you wish, M‘lady.” Replied Maynord. “No one will know of his existence from my lips, I swear it.” Trillin could see the vague shape of the hooded figure that plagued his minimal waking moments. It was as if looking through the thickest fog he had ever experienced. And, were it not for the constant thrilling of pain pulsing through him, his frustration would normally have reached a deadly peak. Again, the darkness swept upon him, washing away the fog with dreamless sleep.

    Light filtered through the windows, shining directly into his eyes. Though he could see the red behind his eyelids, Trillin could not open them. Try as he might, the sheer weight of them was unmistakeable. The severe pain that Trillin remembered before the darkness was gone, replaced by a dull ache in every inch of his body. Try as he might, he could not lift a limb, he was forced to remain in the place between awake and dreaming. Muffled voices surround him. Only bits and pieces make sense to him. Substantial injuries…Sedated….Recovery, but over time….One week lost….Taryn.

    Cold, salty fingers filled Trillin’s mouth, and he began to convulse as a rancid tasting liquid was forced down his throat. The clammy hand covered his mouth and nose, and automatically his body swallowed the foul beverage. Few words followed him into the darkness. “Magincia…Independence. Trillin will be free.”

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ​

    Finally, Trillin awoke. A pasty film covered his mouth, and immediately a trencher was placed to his lips. Water. Greedily he drank, draining the trencher before even fully opening his eyes to see who held it for him. A pale white face, much to similar to his own stared back at him. A feminine version of himself. All pale hair and skin, and blood red eyes.

    “You’re awake. I’m glad to see that my efforts were not in vain.” The girl set the trencher down on the table next to his bed. Trillin’s gaze followed suit, taking in the empty bottles cluttering the table. He also noted the small cot in the corner of the room. Has she been standing watch by his bedside?

    “Taryn.” Trillin spoke, though he stumbled over the unfamiliar word. She smiled and nodded.

    “You’ve caused a lot of trouble for our kind. They’re looking for you, you know. $5 million in gold for you captured alive…But luckily for you, I have other plans.” Taryn rose, drawing the cloak over her shoulders and slipping the hood up to cover her face and hair. "Now that you are awake, damage control is in order.” And with that she turned on her heel and left. Trillin could hear her calling for Isaiah, telling him to keep watch over Trillin.

    Ever foolhardy, Trillin refused to remain in bed, and with some difficulty, he rises up and dresses himself. Taryn’s words remind him that his face will be posted all over town, and Trillin searched his small room for something to conceal his face.
    His search turns his attention to the small chest at the end of his bed. Upon it lay the perfect solution. A fine bone mask, red in color, and shaped to resemble an ornamented human skull. Beneath it lay a brown cloak. Placing the mask upon his face and drawing the cloak up and over his shoulders, Trillin set out to explore his involuntary new home.

    to be continued...
  2. She knew almost every Magincian by name and she did know all by face, if even in passing. The island may have shifted and molded over time but it was still very much her home. Even from this distance she could see he was pale. Resting on the Gazebo benches and facing north to the warm Magincian seas his pa-lour was not that of someone in decent health. Striding up to within a few feet she had a chance to get a better look. She was most definitely correct. He was not in decent health. A deep red bone mask covered his features leaving only the dull glowing red of his eyes visible. Attempting and failing to get his attention she raised her voice.

    “Excuse me.”

    Finally he turned, annoyance etched clearly in his movements. Slowly and painfully he rose. What seemed to be a smirk lingered on his face as he pulled himself to his full height. That is to say that she had to look almost directly up to gaze at him. A position not conducive to her five foot four inches.

    He said very little in the space of the next few minutes. Clearly laughing at the tiny figure in front of him, he saw her more as a pest and less of a legislator. That in itself didn't bother Lynne, there were many who underestimated her. Actions speaking louder than words had taken a prominent stance in her life long ago.

    It wasn't until she followed him all the way back to the Modest Damsel and the healers therein that he began to see her as more annoying. She watched as he stopped and whispered to one. She watched as he did not turn to see if she was behind him. And she watched him enter.

    “How long do you intend to stay?”

    “As long as I wish to.”

    Biting her tongue, she let him go. Turning promptly around she headed for the exact same healer he had spoken to. She was going to get answers with or without his cooperation. If it was one thing Lynne learned during her years as a blacksmith it was that there were ways around immovable metal and people.