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Snippet #2546012

located in Our World, a part of Crowns, Empires and Swords, one of the many universes on RPG.

Our World



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Arya Stark
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"Why do you ask?" Clara asked as he digested her explanation, someone he could be himself around. He thought he was relatively open with everyone, to the point of it being innappropriate. Scarlet was the only person he thought he could cry in front of, but Casey had cried in front of him. Did that make him Caseys friend? Did that mean that it went the other way and Casey was his friend? Goddess who knew friendship could be so confusing. He couldnt imagine ever seeing the Captain cry,the mere idea seemed absurd, did that mean that she didnt have any friends? But he and the Captain seemed so... Similar, shared pain and mentality, shared thoughts and feelings. Did that make them friends? Or just alike? Enemies could be alike, so perhaps that wasnt it...
"You may have just made me even more confused my love." He said with a ponderous scowl, "When we farewelled Sheva, it seemed she had so many friends there to bid her goodbye, I wonder when I die, whether any but you will be there to mourn me." He looked back at her and smiled, "Come, enough talk of death and mourning, enjoy the party, you have everyone back together agai-" Da'Karro said before stoping dead. Ice locking his spine and his stomach falling into a bottomless pit, time seemed to slow as his senses fell away bar a single sound ringing in his ears.
The sound brought terror and anger and harrowing memories. He knew that laughter. He had heard it before. A long time ago. A different time, a different Da'Karro, but he remembered that laughter. The laughter that had rung out as he had been tortured on a table.
Da'Karro seemed to turn in slow motion, the room fading into nothing except for the echoing of the laughter. Nothing else mattered, nothing else would matter, nothing else could.
Down on one of the lower tables, sat a man with a sallow face and greasy hair, his angular features and hollow cackle making him like a laughing ghoul. He knew that man. He knew what he was.
Da'Karros Kukri was free of its scabbard and he was on the table and leaping for the lower table fast as a demon loosed from hell. Nothing would stop him. No one Could stop him. Not for this man. For what he had done. For what he had made Da'Karro do. He would die. He would die now.
As Da'Karro fell upon the table like a avenging angel, a blood curdling scream rose up from his lungs, filled with anguish and pain and guilt. Tainted by hatred, scorn and a life lost. It filled the hall to its breadth and width, chilling all who heard with its visceral agony.