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| Ulldon; Small village in the south-west | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 1 2011, 04:50 PM (204 Views) | |
| chadden | Jul 1 2011, 04:50 PM Post #1 |
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High Advisor to the Archmage
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A father forcing courage. A mother protectively cradling a weeping daughter. A teenage son torn between his desire to protect and his desire to cower. A bloodied corpse staining the lavish carpet. Kvahla thought comically of how familiar such a setting was. She stood in the extravagant home of nobles, rich people who had settled in this small village and wanted for nothing. Their's was a life of desire. A life where all their needs were met. A life where they could easily attain anything and everything they wanted through the power of money. A life of gluttony. The corpse was that of their highly-trained, highly-expensive bodyguard. He had been a big man, boasting twenty years of service in the Weissland military. He had fought in wars, battled and defeated countless enemies. Yet, without his head, he seemed... shorter. "Get out! Get out of my home!" screamed the father as he brandished an iron bar. Kvahla rose slowly from the floor, tossing the head of their costly protector over to them. The mother screamed and the son took a cautious step backwards. "We can pay you." whimpered the mother. "Whatever you want, any amount, we can pay. Please, just leave us be." "Look at you." said Kvahla calmly. "Your bodyguard couldn't protect you. Neither can your money." The mother looked up with frightened eyes. "What... what do you want?" Kvahla moved over to idly scan the heavy, leather-bound tomes kept on a shelf close by. "I have been asked that so many times, from people in situations not too different from yours." She turned her head to look at them, slowly. "But it is not I who wants to take from you. It is the Master. You have something of his, and he wants it back." The family merely stared at her. Most through frightened eyes, save for the father. He glared at her with his nostrils flaring and his fists clenched tight. It was all an act, an infuriatingly transparent act. "Once," she began, looking at the mother, "you carried it. But no longer. No, you passed it on to another. Your daughter." "You sick freak!" roared the father. He began advancing towards her, his simpleton's weapon held high. "You're not-" Kvahla clicked her fingers with her right hand. There was a flash of pure, black energy and the father dropped dead. The son fled to his mother's side and all shared tears and screams. "You are all so tiresome. So weak. So pathetically weak!" she hissed. She moved slowly towards them and then knelt just three feet away. "Release the girl. Give her to me. I will grant you all painless deaths." "No, no, no..." again, the mother whimpered. Kvahla's face contorted from one of patience into one of fury. She threw her right arm off to the side, and the son was thrown across the room to crash into the far wall. She then moved closer and grabbed the mother by the neck, lifting her from the ground with no effort at all. The mother struggled to breathe as Kvahla's tight grip held her firm. Then, in an instant, she broke the woman's neck and cast her down next to her husband. Slowly, she then knelt in front of the weeping daughter. "Hush, little one. You will join them soon." Tentatively, she stretched out her arm and tapped the girl on the forehead. She fell unconscious. Kvahla opened the girl's mouth and began chanting ancient words. A thick, dark smog lift the daughter's mouth to accumulate in Kvahla's hand. Once it was done, she killed the girl with a simple spell. She turned to leave, but saw the son looking up at her. "What did you do?" he demanded. Kvahla raised the orb of black smog in her hand. "This is a part of the Master. A part of his power." She looked at it in admiration. "It is but a fraction of his magical might. I wish you could live to see Him wield it, boy. I truly do. It is a sight of wonder, something too majestic and brilliant for the likes of this world to comprehend. But, soon they will know." She smiled before, again, clicking her fingers. The son died in a heartbeat. Kvahla left the house, wandering into the night. She would keep the power safe and return it to her Master. He would be most pleased. |
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"Stand against me if you must, for of course you will. Conflict is just another part of this flawed reality. You need to cling to your concepts and purposes, your feeble honour and glory. None of it serves any purpose in the end. And the end draws close." - Krodalis Thaendil. "It really is amazing; she killed Kelan Wealer, not that I am complaining, but then the order welcomed her as their new leader. It makes one wonder if I were to ram a blade down her throat, would the monks then follow my commands?" - Mordain Thaendil. One of the Last Guardians. Suck it. | |
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1:15 AM Jul 11