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Harborym Valley

a topic in Ghalerion, a part of the RPG forum.

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Re: Harborym Valley

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Edge on Thu Sep 20, 2007 2:03 pm

"You have my trust."

Rabbit smiled softly to the man. She had his trust; she could not help but blush at the thought and be happy. Letting him go, Rabbit had to resist her urge to hold him for a moment and reassure him that everything would be alright, that the Deities would bring their hands to this world and reshape it. It was the blind, innocent faith, not trust- that Rabbit had brought to her tasks. Born into the streets Rabbit would not forget the kindness that one Deity had shown her, her true path in the world.

What ever that path was, Rabbit had chosen to live it, coming into the temple and reforming her ways, but whatever the message and her brief glimpse into her fate that Lain had allowed, Rabbit kept it to herself.

Such things are private between immortal and mortal kind.

“And you have mine,” With that she took off the mask, revealing a face not too much younger then Dusk’s own. Eyes of clear thinking and wit sparkled back and a braid of sun-light bound hair under the black hood that framed her face giving a face of soft beauty that glowed naturally. Tucking the mask away Rabbit touched with her free hand the shadow of the mountainside. “For my name is Dawn. I will call my companions, for I cannot carry you all.”

From the mountain side two more priests came, one called Ox, and the other, Bear. Bear, leaner and more slender of the two choose Dusk’s companion to carry as Ox took Dusk. Dawn stood to the ledge smiled and stepped off the whole time smiling to the man who perhaps needed more faith then any of them, her black cloak flaring as she led the way back down into the cracks where the Temple of Lain stood.

“THAT WAS NOT THE AGREEMENT!” Gent’s voice snapped as he slammed his fists down on the wooden floor of the inner temple room. Talvyth sat with his black kimono and coat wrapped around his body looking as if he couldn’t care less what his younger brother was speaking of. Gent’s eyes burned with anger as he leaned forward nearly lunging at the thin body of his older brother.

“The Agreement was that you would bring back the heir of Ghalerion. And as he is not here, your point is invalid… However I intend to extend our little business dealing, little brother.”

Gent looked at Talvyth with barely concealed hate and suspicion. “What could you possibly want? My life too? Wasn’t Edward’s life enough for you? You took our beloved brother’s life, what is mine worth to you?”

Talvyth’s eyes widened and lunged at the Bellringer, his strong bony hands going not for Ghaladar’s neck but rather for the front of his younger brother robes. Lifting the cripple with his own strength, Talvyth locked eyes as Ghaladar’s feet dangled uselessly above the floor. Brother looked into another brother’s eyes. And perhaps it was then that Gent saw the horrors of the curse Talvyth bore. Gent trembled; his brother saw death… nothing but death… nothing but the spiral of lives lost and the soul’s screams of agony. His brother saw them daily, driving him to forget the realm of the living and to think of the realm beyond where his soul would one day to become the part of the Gate between the living and the dead.

“Now you understand your fucking task?! As long as we do not have the heir under our roof, we cannot save this land. Until that heir decides to raise his voice, we cannot defeat the generals! Do you think I’m as ignorant as to fact we have an entire army on our doorstop?! Do you think that?! Thank the gods you cannot see what I can! Be blissful that you are ignorant boy!”

With that Talvyth threw his only surviving brother down to the temple floor. Gent yelped as the pain coursed through his body. Struggling to sit up he saw something. Sitting up gave a new angle that Ghaladar had not seen before. The bones of his older brother were visible to him. The skeleton like body that housed his brother’s soul was wasting away and he couldn’t see that until this moment. Talvyth was dying with every breath, but the fearless eyes of the dragon told Gent that Talvyth was fighting every step of the way to live. Remembering how that frail body had lifted him without effort, Gent found a grudging new respect for the head priest of Lain.

“The agreement was that if I found him, I would be free from your fucking grasp… Had I known you couldn’t hold to your promise I would have held it to your name. But I’ve done my part… Now do yours!” Gent rasped. “Or let our brother’s sacrifice remain on your bloodied hands!”

Dawn guided Dusk and his companion to the steps of the Temple of Lain where Ghaladar and Talvyth were finishing arguing. She led the two through the compound without trouble. To Dusk and Caitlin’s eyes it must have seem like a barracks of white buildings with green clay slate tiles for roofs. Each of the buildings though allowed many windows, seemed to lack individual qualities that made a house a home. But as Dawn lead them deeper into the miniature city, small upper scale courtyards and tiny flower gardens grew. Grassy areas were plentiful and some of the smaller children were playing on wooden training equipment.

Then they came to the final stairway Dawn turned and spoke, “Up these stairs is where the head priest of our order is,” taking the first few steps she continued, beckoning the two to follow.

“He’s a cold master, a friendless one. But he has made it his life’s work to find the Heir that would become the Lord Baron…” Dawn fell silent. Her beautiful face turned to sorrow, and she went up the stairs willingly. Going up the stairs, tears came without sound and trailed down her cheeks… Raised voices could be heard from the temple and words almost made out… Perhaps Dusk’s hearing would be better then Dawn’s but Dawn understood the voices instantly… It was the same argument every time.

She knew the name was spoken with such love and grief by both brothers that it would take much of Lain’s mercy to forgive both of them. The brother that had bridged the age gap between Talvyth and Ghaladar now became the division to which both brothers had all love but one blame for it’s creation.

“He is a man loved and hated in the same breath.” Dawn said softly, pitying both brothers as she reached the top of the white stone steps. “But perhaps now it is the time to heal that rift.”

She motioned for them to wait and crossed the courtyard to the doors. Replacing her mask on her face, Dawn knocked three times and pushed open the doors. Her voice sang softly the prayer to Lain and she entered, again motioning for Dusk and his companion to follow her inside.

“They who have come seeking shelter shall be granted rest by the Grace of Lain.” Dawn spoke, a heavy weight followed her words like a stern matron’s word of honor.

Talvyth stood as Ghaladar moved the best he could into the shadows.

Talvyth said nothing till he came close to the pair, Dawn stepping to the side to present them. The head priest only had to glance before he bowed, his tall frame making the gesture seem godly indeed. He knew who man was before him… but for the moment… perhaps this child was not ready to assume or acknowledge the title by his birthright.

“Welcome travelers…”

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Re: Harborym Valley

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Sensha on Wed Oct 31, 2007 1:13 am

Sensha felt reality slipping slowly into his mind. These years as a man meant to bring death to some one for a price had indeed sent him in the wrong direction. He'd lost a loved one in his many years, a woman who was the only person to ever truly love him with all that she was...and he felt the same for her. She was slaughtered, and Sensha took swift revenge upon the group whom had killed his beloved. It was only after that did he find that they had a price, and the massive reward had blinded him so much that he had forgotten the reasoning behind his fight with the group who'd slain his wife. Money can do strange things to mortals, even ones like him who was only half human. It had driven him to love blood, if it only brought him a few shining pieces of gold.

Sensha's heart, something he'd berried beneath his armor and blood-stained skin, gave a lurch and he felt heart-broken for the first time in what must of been a century. He didn't realize until then just what he'd been doing, and it felt more terrible then any wound he had ever sustained. "Master..."was all he could manage to get out of his pain-stricken body, but no answer came back. Only a stern look.

"Ah, I see you've come around. Now you are the hot-headed student I remember so well." The old man took a knee next to Sensha, studying the pain in his eyes." I believe your in need of something more to assist your new comrades back in that valley. Keep your blood lust, it takes the fear of battle away, but keep it under control. Use it for good." The old man reached to his back, pulling out a large rapped bundle. "A gift to a graduated student, from his aging teacher...."

Sensha took the bundle and held it for a moment. What ever it was, it was not very heavy at all. As he slid the cloth-wrapping away, he could only look at awe as two katana of exact opposite color revealed themselves. He unsheathed each, and both were of the same color as they're sheathes. One was silver, with some kind of crystal for the handle and guard, the other darker then a moonless night with no guard and only a wrapping at the base for a kind of hilt. He sheathed them slowly and strapped them to each of his hips, then bowed. "Master, I am undeserving of these...I've disgraced your teachi-"

"Shut up, you ignorant student of mine. You do not disgrace my teachings, you merely have not been following them. Now...I'm sure you haven't forgotten your way back?" Sensha could only give a blank stare for a minute. "Master, we must be miles from the valley..." Sensha need only turn his head to see that he was back in the valley...infact, he was back in the same exact moment that he was before his master had swept him away.

Sensha quickly shoved Ryu into the aproaching torrent, creating enough of a disturbance in the flood that Sensha was sucked into it, rather then crushed by it. He tumbled through the waters, fighting his way up for air. Moments later he found himself bumping into a sturdy tree that was worth grasping onto for the remainder of the flood waters to pass.

It was with the reseeding waters that Sensha got a view of the burnt and damp forest. "You would atleast think he could of saved me the trouble of getting wet..." He leaped down from his tree and surveyed his inventory. "Well, I seem to have what." Sensha pondered his next move. He could certainly go on to the main camp of the forces and launch an attack himself, but that would be short-lived before he would eventually get tired. He could only kill so many soldiers, and there were certainly more then he was used to. "Those vyken creatures...surely they have captured at least one of the few that had come to this valley against the soldiers...I'm not going to like this much..." Sensha burled off in a direction that he was pretty sure lead deeper into the valley forest. His only chance of reuniting with his comrade and his other summoned party was to get captured by the vyken...and they were deep in the forest some where. He went abouts leaping from the tree's at a speed that greatly exceeded that of his comrade, his reasoning behind keeping it hidden being that Dusk was the only one who knew the way....and it also made a lot more noise when he was in a hurry.

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Re: Harborym Valley

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Alucroas on Fri Nov 09, 2007 3:08 am

"Well, well, well...first I get ambushed by a bunch of pansy Ghaleon officers, get thrown in prison, bust out just to get stabbed in the fucking chest, get thrown back in prison. Have to deal with a rebellious nut case who thinks he can save the world with just four people, forced to travel through this scolding hot forest, fend for my life with SOME FREAKY ASS ANTHROPOMORPHIC CANINE FUCK-MUTS. Get caught up in a fiery inferno, had to carry some crippled old bastard on my shoulders, and have some mini-homos buzzin' around my face carryin' me to safety..."

Once they landed on the ground, he immediately set Gent onto the ground against a concealed bush where they could at least conceal themselves from that swarm of warriors. His knees bent and were shaking from over-exerting himself in the trees, sure he received a breeze from soaring through the air like that - a four hundred degree breeze mind you. It became difficult for him to breathe in such a hostile environment and even moreso he'd probably have to carry that skeleton all the way to the goddamned castle if he chose to even go. No way in Hell would he venture back down into the jungle just to save someone he didn't even give two shits about, nuh-uh, not a fucking chance...after the shit they put him through, dragging him knee-deep into this tumult of epic proportions was he going to fire off an electrical impulse to assist those fucks.

Besides, he had other plans, getting out of this soon to be barren wasteland alive, taking brief glance at the already aggrandizing soil from flood which spread through earlier. "Give me ten minutes and we'll be on the move again. And don't rush me either; we're lucky my wound healed up completely or you wouldn't have jack shit goin' for you." Sliding down along a tree trunk and sighing to himself. It was just one of those moments where he quite literally needed to zone out and regain his energy. The starlight seemed to fluctuate oddly with the evaporating mist floating around in the air, regulating his respiratory system so that he could tap into his reserve stamina; thankfully it was only a small burst of power that was used, otherwise he'd be completely screwed.

"Alright, you old bastard, let's get movin'." As much as he'd rather have just sat there and relax he really didn't have much choice in the matter, taking off his trenchcoat along with his hat and glasses tucking it into the man's shirt without much warning revealing a medium length, teetering on broad dark gray hair, hanging down on his sides and slightly covering up a portion of his forehead Afters he unsheathed his straight edged high frequency sword from its black casing strapped across his back, holding it in his mouth as he picked up the elderly man and placed him on his back. "Unfortunately I can't hang onto you, because if we get ambushed I'm going to need both my hands in order to defend us against any possible surprise attacks. For all we know those shit stains might just be having a playin' around with us."

The blade fell into his hands as he spoke, catching it by the blunt side and positioning it in his hands, keeping the left hand near the bottom of the hilt while the right remained just above the medium portion. He'd need to implement combat tactics as well as stealth and espionage if he wanted to get out of this forest alive. A brief vocal sound penetrated his ears and startled the drums echoing through the mountain passage, apparently it sounded as though someone were being scolded. However it didn't contain any particular accent like the one he was used to hearing back in Ghale nor did it contain any noises reminiscent to that of a vyken. "Well, Gent we're goin' this way...besides from the looks of things this is a mountain pass, and it'd definitely shorten our traveling time greatly if we took this route instead. You sounded eager to get going anyway, and I need some food in my stomach, and hopefully that person might just be of some use to us. Although I have to say its coming from a forty five degree angle just south of the mountain entrance. It doesn't sound like a soldier nor a vyken, so our best chance is to at least hope that we run into him. He may have rations, and even with this short-cut, carrying you is heard work; we're going to need all the help we can get."

And with that notion he took off running with the man, straight towards the mountain pass...although deep down he was somewhat unsure of whether or not the man he heard was friendly or not... "Alert me if you see any vykens or soldiers, Gent."


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