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Post new topic   Reply to topic Pickles! -honey and Pog-
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Mon Nov 19, 2012 12:14 pm Reply with quote        
Twas a stormy day, a bad day for a hunt but he never listened to any one. Dragging his captured carcass back over the woods, he found himself seeking a sanctuary from the rain. By the time he found such a a place his body was soaked. Thick drops of water cascaded down the strains of black hair. On his sojourn back to the city he paused, resting at what appeared to be an abandoned monastery. Though the heavy oak doors were locked, a few tricks or two did not deter him from getting inside. He pulled his game inside, and finally caught the distant sounds of chanting though they were not the usual prayers one sent to the heavens. Determined to simply wait out the rain, he waited just inside the doors and when he grew board enough he started to skin the animal.
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Mon Nov 19, 2012 1:35 pm Reply with quote        
The monastery was small and secluded, and so it never had provided either guests or interest to the boy. As one of the practicing members of the church, however, he had to remain by the side of his fellow worshipers until they felt no need for him to remain or lost interest in having him run their errands each morning. As it stood, he was left in his room, exempt from prayer to say his own chants alone while the rest of the men went into chapel for the holy ceremony of the week, to which he was not yet invited. His prayer beads laid skewed across his thin straw mattress while he stood in the middle of the room with a hand extended-- trying to conjure up what he had only recently learned to use. Magic.

Thus far he had been unable to share with the other members of the church knowing that none of them had been able to harness the powers of the elements or magic not given to them through their God. Which, of course, was frowned upon in their religion and their establishment. One night he had inquired around the dinner table about whether or not they ever had a member of the church with the abilities of magic, and it ended in false tales of death and smiting by God. At least, the boy hoped that they were only myths and tales, for if they were not he would soon be destroyed lest he could leave. Which he could not abandon the men, not after they took him in. Still, none of the fear was enough to keep him from experimenting with what he had come to realize was a new world entirely, and while he had not yet mastered it in any sense it was enough to give him interest in his life again.

His fingers grew warm as he rubbed the tips together, though when he tried to will for them to catch fire nothing happened and he realized it was only friction which made his fingers grow warm. A defeated sigh left his lips before he heard the hard sound of the front doors creaking open against the dull quiet of chanting. Had someone come to the chapel? Quiet obviously, lest it were merely the stormy wind or a raving beast. A shudder passed through him while he hoped that was not the case. Near silently he opened his door and peered out into the dark center of the church where the matted colors of their old stained glass spilled across the floor in the dim moonlight while the reflection of the rain made it seem like each and every one of the people or animals depicted in the art were shedding endless tears for what was to come. He swallowed hard against his nervousness as he stepped free of his room with his door shutting quietly behind him while he went to find the stairs.

Never before had each step felt so heavy or sounded so loud, and he wondered if the remainder of the monks in chapel had heard the door as well or if it was merely him. Another shudder passed through him as he stepped on the broken wood step that they badly needed to fix but did not have the money to. Silently he swore underneath his breath without offering an apology to his god, for if he was about to meet his end by means of giving away his location he would not live long enough for her to spite him.

He gave a shuddering breath as he rounded the stairs and peered out of the doorway to the floor where he could see a thick trail of, what his imagination told him was, blood and his panic began to set in. Following the short trail it proved the outline of a human with a weapon in his hand. Was it a dagger? Or a sword? He could not tell from the distance from which he stood, but it was obviously sharp enough to cut the heavy mass that laid in front of the man, and by the ripping sound it made he made the assumption that the person was harshly butchering a dead carcass.

Glancing around he noticed that a couple of the candles that normally lit the room had blown out with the opening of the door, giving the room even more of a roughly lit look which only intensified the setting of the upcoming murder. Silently the boy wondered if the man would kill him and leave him there on the floor with the mighty bear that had already been killed, or would he be put on the alter as some sick sacrifice. Or maybe the man would take him away from his home to carry him through the rain to some kind of cult. He heard the same ripping sound again and it brought him from his unrealistic thoughts back to the fact that the man was still there in the chapel with whatever beast laid out before him.

Reaching up to the wall where a lit candle still hung for use in a time such as that, he made sure the flame burned as brightly as the old candle could manage before he stepped free from the stairwell just enough to reveal himself to the person if they had the inclination to look. Clearing his throat he mustered up his voice that still sounded as strong and whole as it did when he was not imagining the ways he could die in the next few minutes. "Excuse me, sir," he seemed a bit quiet and was not sure if the other had heard him, and so taking another bold step closer to the murderer he spoke again. "Excuse me."
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Tue Nov 20, 2012 11:38 am Reply with quote        
He listened. The continual chanting was interrupted by the aging wood. A brave soul was coming at last. Silently he went back to minding his work, keeping himself alert for the steps. They were not decisive enough to be the father but not timid enough to be a young child of the order. Continuing his work he waited. The body finally decided to be bold. Turning his head he saw the face have shrouded in the amber light but he could see enough to know the lad was young. The light distorted the hues around him making everything beyond the face seem much darker then it was. There was no answer from his lips just yet. Readying his dagger in his hand he rose, shutting the door to the outside word enclosing them in darkness say for the candle flicker. "Yes child?" He asked.
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Fri Nov 23, 2012 9:10 pm Reply with quote        
As the man stood, his eyes remained focused on the weapon in his hand, and came to realize that beside the man the size was much too small to be a sword and must have been a dagger instead. He could all but see the blood from his prey rolling along the blade before it rolled to the floor where it fell the distance from bladeto he floor, the crimson mess further spreading across the old wooden boards of the chapel. The blood did not bother him so much as the idea that soon that dagger would be through him like a dull sword through lard, and the mess that his body would leave in the wooden floors forever. Silently his mind questioned if the monks would replace the floor, or scrub his remainder free.

From the dagger his eyes ran along the long, strong arm to fairly heavy-set shoulders and a face only able to be made out for a few seconds before it ruend to close the door and instead of inspecting the man he had to protect the flame of his candle with his palm lest he be left entirely defenseless. "I am not a child," He spoke bravely as his hand lowered enough to shed more light to the space between them to allow him to see the other again. "I had come to see who entered the monestary and I found you having entered our chapel. May I ask you what you ask me myself and the fellow monks here at the Church of Gilwae since you have entered our home."
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Sat Nov 24, 2012 9:28 pm Reply with quote        
The young lad had nearly told him every thing he needed to know simply by telling him it which order the church belonged to. He could see the shadows dance off the pew and the alter as the lighting out side illuminated the stain glass bringing the religious figures to life, flickering before quickly fading with each boom. His body naturally moved, unable to stay in one spot. One step let him further past the boy but soon he turned, becoming more interested in the boy. Another flicker and he was able to see small things, like the boys peasant clothing. There were gaping holes resewn to the best of a males ability, frayed edges and a simple knot to keep it around the frame. Clearly this boy was either simple enough to be worked or the monks did not deem him worthy of a decent brown robe. Another step,another streak and the and the streaks of blue reflected on going trails that rested on the steadily breathing chest. When he came full circumference he found he could not see the eyes and there were other details still obscured but he was satisfied enough. The rather loquacious mouth continued only to demand things of him and reprimand him. He grew jaded with the words, and only when the boy hushed into silence that he scowled.

The sharp blade twisted wiping against his thigh. A loud shing broke his unanswered silence towards the boy. With both his hands free he combed his fingers through his damp tresses, pulling them into as best he could away from his face, only to have them fall in a more disorderly mess. At least he spoke. ""I thought your god welcomed all. You should not object to me seeking sanctuary." Idly he brought one thumb of his mouth and sucked on it a little. Quickly before the wordy boy could retort he snuffed the candle with his fingers, grabbing the boy by his hands and jerking the smaller frame into his. His other hand cupped his chin and he whispered into his ear. "Leave me in the darkness and go back to your monk alter boy ." this time he asked a question he wanted an simple answer from. "Do you understand?"
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Wed Nov 28, 2012 11:53 am Reply with quote        
Where his face once held a simple frown it turned into a look of revolt when fingers caked in blood came to touch his face while the other hand forced him against the man. He looked into the face with locks of hair obscuring nearly half of it before he jerked his head away from the hand that dared to touch him. "I understand you perfectly, but it does not mean I have to comply with you." Seeing the scowl that the other wore so well his own face lowered into a glower. He reached behind him to find the hand still holding the dagger blade, and clutching it tight he worked to maneuver himself free of the man who held him close.
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Wed Nov 28, 2012 12:09 pm Reply with quote        
He could not help himself. A small chuckle escaped his lips at the boys plight. Watching him wiggle. He felt the warm fingers closed around his cold ones, trying to prevent him from striking. Twisting his hand he dropped his weapon and let his fingers curled around the boys, pulling him if possible closer. “No you will comply, trust me Alter boy, the sooner you do the sooner you will see the light beyond this darkness. Now take me to your kitchen.” He released his grip a little allowing for some breathing space between them. “And do not speak, just take me there.” His eyes through the darkness met the boys. Slowly he released him, collecting both his weapon and his game waiting to follow the lad into the depths of the monastery.
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Wed Nov 28, 2012 1:15 pm Reply with quote        
He clenched his jaw as he was forced to stare at the man, and he took a lingering moment in deciding whether or not to go against what the man spoke of and speak or lead him elsewhere, but the longer he stared the more he decided that he ought to listen to the man with a dagger. Lingering to watch the other to be sure he would not be struck the moment his back was turned, he used the faint light that the remaining candles to locate the back of the monastery and begin the long walk up the aisle with his unlit candle remained in hand to be lit when an opportunity presented itself.

The closer they drew to the back of the church the louder he could hear the fellow members of the church praying, and more he hoped that they would hear him and the man walking around the church and come to investigate, but the more he mulled it over the less confident he felt in that idea. The long hall that extended past the chapel was dark, none of the candles remained lit with the wind which had been the death of many other flames, and so turning around the boy looked for another location where he could relight the candle but none presented themselves. He gazed back down the hall to see the faint light of the candles still burning in the kitchen, and having decided the hallway was not that long he started into the darkness.

He became hypersensitive to each breath and step the man took behind him, and the sound of the creature the other had killed being dragged behind them down the hall. Willing for the other man to disappear so he could return to his room and go to sleep, but this was reality and he knew that he could not escape the man or the darkness. Tighter he clenched his teeth while he held the candlestick and as he focused on the light of flame up ahead he was surprised with the burst of flame that erupted from the wick of his candle and illuminated the hallway in front of them with a renewed power.

It had surprised him more than he was sure it would surprise anyone else, and he stopped in his tracks in the midst of the hall to stare at the wavering flame to decide how it may have lit itself, and only one word came into mind but he dare not speak it aloud. Clearing his throat he held the candle up to lead them the rest of the way to the monastery's shoddy kitchen.
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 11:50 am Reply with quote        
The boy seemed odd. Rather then relighting the candle, he traversed the halls with out light. It dawned on the knight the boy was not provided with matches or flint for his pockets, simply based on how humble his clothing was. He watched the shadow in front of him move dimly illuminated by the candles on the wall. He could see it in each pausing foot step, unlike many monks he had come across, this one had more then just ecclesiastical thoughts in his head. The procession was slow, made worse by the long pause from his guide. He was about to speak up when a whirl of something strange snaked its way into his bones giving off chills. Looking around again, he saw it, in a flash the boys face was once again lit by low amber light as was the path in front.

He no longer had an interest in his game. Once they reached the small room, he could see shadows of the table and dragged his game there. Once again he walked up to the boy. This time his touch was gentle as it curled around the candled hand. He inspected the boys fingers but could see nothing but bandages. As not to give away his suspicions he let go and roamed around the room, knocking over items until he found a lamp. Twisting a knob and using the boys candle he provided more light to the kitchen. “Tell me alter boy, how does a believer in Gilwae, relight extinguished candles with out matches?” He said.
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Thu Dec 06, 2012 11:08 pm Reply with quote        
He licked at his chapped lips while his eyes jumped between the freshly lit lamp, to the kill upon the table, and back to his own flame which continued to burn as brightly as any normally lit candle would. He watched as the wick shriveled and burned slowly while the mountains of caked wax continued to melt and drip further down the sides of the already short and stout candle. His hand shook out of nervousness, droplets of the hot liquid dripping down upon his fingers and bandages while they scalded and burned at his skin without him hardly able to help it. The boy swallowed as his eyes flickered up to look upon the man before dropping his gaze back to their matching flames of orange and gold. "I believe it may have been a bit of...magic, sir."
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Mon Dec 10, 2012 11:22 am Reply with quote        
It was either the rain pelting the building or his own fault but he could hear, but the boys soft spoken words were drowned out as he continued. "Come again lad?." He moved traveling to one of the wooden stools in the room, sinking onto its hard surface. Once again he pulled his dagger from his sheath. Now that he was able to see his game more clearly it made his work go a lot faster. He started where he left off waiting for the child behind him to answer and when he was met with only silence he turned and looked at the doe eyed moon calf. ."Well boy speak up, and this time so I can hear you."
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Tue Dec 11, 2012 6:42 pm Reply with quote        
His lip trembled as he watched the other smoothly cut the skin from his game, and once again he was hesitant to speak. His thoughts fled once more to the overly imaginative thinking of the knife being sliced into his own body, and was only brought out of that when he was spoken to once more. Eye flickered from flame to flame, all but the one protected in the broken glass of the lantern began to waver as a gust of wind, from where the boy did not know. Turning his eyes down the corridor from which they came he saw that the front door was still closed tightly and the gust had not come from there, and in that brief moment the wind came again to blow out all but the single protected flame of the lantern blew out in a quick rush. He turned his body so as to face the man, the light of the lantern only barely gracing his face as the rest of him was hidden in the shadows. He uttered the words louder than he'd dared to say it yet. "...Magic, sir. It was magic."
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Mon Dec 17, 2012 10:53 am Reply with quote        
Skittish and verbose. He watched the boy from the corner of his vision as the boys eyes darted from one place to another before settling back on him. If he were trying to go for an effect with the light, then his words made him loose it. A soft chuckle came from his lips as he listened to the boys articulated words. He could see why the boy spoke them softly at first, for this order was notorious for hunting those with magic in the old days. His chuckle grew. "Boy, every child in the city hopes to be a wizard, mage or alchemist. I highly doubt you have magic." Shifting away from his game he curled his fist under his head and stared intently at the boy. "Prove it." His lips curved into a cocky grin waiting for the show he knew would never come. In his mind he realized the boy was probably clever enough to hide matches and wanting to escape enough to lie.
HoneyFuckles



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 PostPosted: Tue Dec 18, 2012 9:01 pm Reply with quote        
He'd wished the man had a broken smile or yellowed teeth to make him more the part of a villain. Unfortunately, all the boy could see in the darkness was a cocky grin which made him wish the other was not in possession of a dagger. To keep himself from doing anything reckless he clasped his hands in front of him, his lower lip between his teeth to chew on the rubbery flesh lest he say something stupid as well. Had it been any other circumstance, he would have been happy to flee and lie that it was merely a wind, not possibly magic, but the underlying tone of goading in everything the man said was enough to make him feel offended. He may not have looked the part of an important figure, nor even the lowly part of a mere stable hand, but he would not lie about something as real as magic.

He could hear the bellowing laugh of the man cutting through their shared silence, though all the boy really heard was mocking. Out of frustration his brows furrowed together as he glared at the man. His gaze was only averted when he came to realize he'd bitten his lower lip enough that it had begun to bleed. Lifting his hand to wipe it away he found that it was not a terrible cut and did not need to be dealt with, and instead his sight zeroed back in on the stranger as he'd gone back to skinning his creature.

His willing for another flame to ignite itself in the room, or another wind to arrive and blow out the lantern lit proved fruitless as the only movement between the two of them was the moving of the knife. He felt deflated, and under his breath he sighed to himself as he lowered his head. The only thing he could really see was his messy bare feet, and then a quick spark that he watched spark right in front of him before traveling as quick as lighting from him to the dagger held by the stranger. The touch burned his own skin despite it never touching him, though when he inspected his hand and bandages there was no mark or scar. He turned to the intruder with a curious look while also trying to convey his message of him truthfully calling the mischief, magic.
Viridian



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 PostPosted: Thu Dec 27, 2012 6:57 am Reply with quote        
Amused at the folly of youth he returned to his work. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see the lad standing and paid the boy no more attention, if the lad wanted it to be magic so badly he could let it be magic. Sliding the blade among the animal he lost his mind in his work only looking up once more as a flash caught his eye. If the boy wanted to play his little match trick again, he was not to willing to indulge him. An instant pain struck his hand and he dropped his knife among the folds of animal flash. His heart jolted, and he jerked back from his work. Shaking his head he took a moment to gather in what happened as a throbbing pain spread from his hand. Hissing he drew his hand close to his chest, finding his flesh deeply charred.

Magic or not he realized the boy had a hand in his injury. He twisted angrily as the boy stood dumbfounded in the kitchen inspecting his own hands. Rising from his perch he walked over to the boy and cuffed him yet again knocking him out of his proud stupor. Magic or not he could not let the boy remain smug. “Come first light, you are coming with me Alter boy.” His lips curved into another mocking smile “We shall let a real wizard see if you have magic and if you are any use to the crown. Go gather your things.” With one firm hand he shoved the boy away to gather what little provisions he had and spend one last night among his brothers. Making quick work of the animal, he respectfully found a bucket cleaning up any evidence of his own work before tiredly folding his arms in front of his chest waiting in a light doze.
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