Wow... I really enjoyed reading this... Christophen is a great character and reading his thoughts and his feelings, just shows it even more. You have a way with words that really pulls you into that character. I rp with you all the time, yet reading this I still learn or feel something different. Keep them comming.
Aitana
Coming to Terms
Excellent and touching
Last edited by Adalia13 on Tue Mar 06, 2007 3:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
Adalia
ALFA Rep
ADM SD-015, NC-013 & AC-013a
Retired & beloved PC: Mariiana LaureLasse Ma'fer
and Xeera fun run but had to end
Current PC: Azaque
ALFA Rep
ADM SD-015, NC-013 & AC-013a
Retired & beloved PC: Mariiana LaureLasse Ma'fer
and Xeera fun run but had to end
Current PC: Azaque
He sat, balled up, leaning against the ruined tower. He stared north, slowly rocking himself back and forth.
Lost....lost....lost....lost....lost....
He cringed, as the word echoed and re-echoed into his mind. He sat, wide eyed, staring at nothing.
His mind fought...."must keep it together...must wait....time....time....help the Dale, must...."
Something snapped. It could have been the heart, it could have been the mind. It no longer mattered. His eyes grew feral, as he let out a low snarl.
His mind twisted. "They took her away from me. The Twigs....The Bandits...The Druid...The Lizards....The Wolves.........
They will PAY....they will all pay......rivers of blood....oceans.....
His face twisted in a sneer, as he rose from the ground. He went home...
Home....empty....void...solitude....pain....anger.....alone. No more. Heart cold...just Mind.....feed the mind....with rivers....
He tethered the tent flaps slowly, then looked to the desk...to the map.
Who's blood would he find first?
Lost....lost....lost....lost....lost....
He cringed, as the word echoed and re-echoed into his mind. He sat, wide eyed, staring at nothing.
His mind fought...."must keep it together...must wait....time....time....help the Dale, must...."
Something snapped. It could have been the heart, it could have been the mind. It no longer mattered. His eyes grew feral, as he let out a low snarl.
His mind twisted. "They took her away from me. The Twigs....The Bandits...The Druid...The Lizards....The Wolves.........
They will PAY....they will all pay......rivers of blood....oceans.....
His face twisted in a sneer, as he rose from the ground. He went home...
Home....empty....void...solitude....pain....anger.....alone. No more. Heart cold...just Mind.....feed the mind....with rivers....
He tethered the tent flaps slowly, then looked to the desk...to the map.
Who's blood would he find first?
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
-
psycho_leo
- Rust Monster
- Posts: 1162
- Joined: Tue Jan 17, 2006 2:10 am
- Location: Brazil
He clambered through the opening, dropping the cowl of his cloak. He shook himself slightly...as he had done as a child. The snow came flying off in great abandon as he grinned. Amalanna was not here....that was not unusual. She seemed joyous of late...resounding with energy and life. He smiled softly to himself....where ever she was, he was with her. She now bore his ring.
Christophen tilted his head slightly...it had been a whisper, the slightest of whispers, barely audible, when he had first laid eyes on her. Now it was like the thunder of the drums of the north, this feeling within him. He had not noticed it's slow progression in the past months, but now he listened, and was amazed. Amazed at the path he tread now....he had not thought himself much of a fortunate man. His past was....devoid of emotion...anger, determination, bitterness. He had changed...slipped onto something within himself.
He had never even thought of spending the rest of his life with another. He had assumed that he would tread his path alone, until death came to speak with him. He had always been comfortable with that...the deep coals of determination within his heart had always kept him warm. No more.
The sound within rose upon his ears, and he smiled softly. He breathed slowly, closing his eyes, listening. Love was too mild a word for what he felt....something deeper, wider, vaster.... otherness. His smile widened. He had never thought he would marry...but now, he could not see it any other way.
His mind flew to her...to her tears of joy when he promised his life to her. He had never been a proud man...Aeron had told him many times that pride leads to the fall of a man....that proud men stop learning, stop changing to suit the time that they were in. Pride stunts the growth, much like the vine crawls the tree, withering it to nothing. But for the first time, he looked with pride upon his home....their home. It would be with pride that he would introduce her as Amalanna, his wife and heart. He was yet cautious of the feeling, for being overly proud would surely bring ruin...but a modicum of pride....
His knees ached....they always did when it snowed. He slowly sat at the desk, reading over the writings of himself, and his beloved. Slowly reading report after report, his mind drifted to the others....his friends. Akbar, surely there would always be Akbar...He grinned softly...Unkle Akbar one day. The greatest of Warriors, one day.
He sighed, looking back to the papers, and began to write. Soon, things would change. Not only for himself, but for the Dale. Very soon.
Christophen tilted his head slightly...it had been a whisper, the slightest of whispers, barely audible, when he had first laid eyes on her. Now it was like the thunder of the drums of the north, this feeling within him. He had not noticed it's slow progression in the past months, but now he listened, and was amazed. Amazed at the path he tread now....he had not thought himself much of a fortunate man. His past was....devoid of emotion...anger, determination, bitterness. He had changed...slipped onto something within himself.
He had never even thought of spending the rest of his life with another. He had assumed that he would tread his path alone, until death came to speak with him. He had always been comfortable with that...the deep coals of determination within his heart had always kept him warm. No more.
The sound within rose upon his ears, and he smiled softly. He breathed slowly, closing his eyes, listening. Love was too mild a word for what he felt....something deeper, wider, vaster.... otherness. His smile widened. He had never thought he would marry...but now, he could not see it any other way.
His mind flew to her...to her tears of joy when he promised his life to her. He had never been a proud man...Aeron had told him many times that pride leads to the fall of a man....that proud men stop learning, stop changing to suit the time that they were in. Pride stunts the growth, much like the vine crawls the tree, withering it to nothing. But for the first time, he looked with pride upon his home....their home. It would be with pride that he would introduce her as Amalanna, his wife and heart. He was yet cautious of the feeling, for being overly proud would surely bring ruin...but a modicum of pride....
His knees ached....they always did when it snowed. He slowly sat at the desk, reading over the writings of himself, and his beloved. Slowly reading report after report, his mind drifted to the others....his friends. Akbar, surely there would always be Akbar...He grinned softly...Unkle Akbar one day. The greatest of Warriors, one day.
He sighed, looking back to the papers, and began to write. Soon, things would change. Not only for himself, but for the Dale. Very soon.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
-
psycho_leo
- Rust Monster
- Posts: 1162
- Joined: Tue Jan 17, 2006 2:10 am
- Location: Brazil
Hold The Line
He crouched, shrouded under the night sky of the desert, the wind wipping the sand around his body. He adjusted the cloth wrappings on his head, and stared out across the dunes. His boots slowly sunk into the sand, as he removed five arrows from his quiver, placing each arrowhead into the sand. He looked behind him for a moment....and nodded to himself. They were set...the traps he could not see...but they were there.
His head swiveled quickly as she crested the rise at a run, a distinct arrow jutting from her arm. He gritted his teeth as Laurelin ran like the wind, to where Akbar and Reununzio and Tiea waited. They were the line. He bared his teeth in a small grin. He sent a prayer to Hoar before the madness was let loose....
"Please....let them hold the line....."
The Bedine came charging over the crest, in hot persuit of Laurelin. He watched....and waited.....
They came into range......He grinned, and prayed that this worked. They had not the time to talk strategy before it began....plans were formed...but he held his reserve. Plans often were abandoned...one could never predict the tide of battle. He knew this well.
They charged straight for the others, not seeing him. Yelling, howling, chanting....their dogs ahead of them, running faster than they could, snarling and baying.
As the first ones passed, he let the arrow fly....and it found its mark, clear in the chest of one of the hounds. He watched as it faltered in the sand...watched as the dog behind the one he shot changed it's coarse, toward him. As did two of the Bedine. He growled, letting loose another arrow, putting the first hound down before it could rise to attack.
His breath deepened...distantly he heard shouts, from what seemed a million miles away...he saw arrows fly toward those charging the line, out of the corner of his eye. In the back of his mind, he prayed that it was enough.....hopefully, he bought them a small fraction of time.
He placed an arrow and pulled back...an arrow flew in from the side, from the line, taking the hound that was now charging up the hill toward him in the side. He worried....in that small place in the back of his mind that was still connected.....the rest of him....was somewhere else.
He let fly the arrow, taking the second hound in the head, putting it down. The two Bedine came close behind, charging up the slope. He grinned, seeing them struggling to run up the sandy dune,slower progress than the hound had made. He set his sight on the first Bedine, and let fly the arrow...taking a bit of the wood off of the side of his shield. He cursed, and fell back. He sprinted down the hill toward the line. Dim shapes, arrows flying, metal meeting metal, spikes from a trap springin forth.....
He turned and knelt quickly, looking behind. He loosed, and agian found his mark, dropping the first bedine halfway down the dune. The other was right behind, running toward....an arrow flew some feet from his head, landing in the Bedines thigh. Still he charged, barring his teeth in the madness of the halfmoon.
Christophen growled and braced himself for what was to come....the azir of the Bedine slicing through his leathers, deep into his chest. The smile of victory faded from the Bedines face a moment later, when he realized that the cut he had made had been at the exact moment Christophen had loosed the arrow he had fitted.
The spray of blood caught Christophen in the face, as his arrow lodged squarely in the Bedines throat. He grimaced slightly, as the body tumbled to the sand...his blood mixed with the spray of the Bedines. No time. He turned the prayer still on his lips.....
The line had held. His distraction had worked. Only their leader, Hamma, remained standing, in a feirce struggle with Akbar. His mind empty, he fired, his arrow finding its mark in the chiefs thigh. All else was blocked out....no more threats were seen. Akbar struck a blow to Hamma's head....he seemed to stumble. Seconds later, his last arrow found it's mark, as Hamma clutched for the arrow lodged in his throat. He fell, as Akbar drove home his own Azir in the man's head, severing it from the body.
His eye immediately searched....scanning for dangers left unseen. There were none. The line pressed forward over the crest, as he slowly went to his knees. He knelt, eyeing the carnage. Teia stood nearby, breathing deeply. The others now gone.....pressing a route. He looked up to the stars.....and felt a small smile beem down upon him. He smiled in return. He could feel Hoar....he nodded slowly, and gave thanks. The line had held.
He quietly whispered a word of thanks, then slowly leaned back, hands covering his wound. He let out a small sigh, and closed his eyes, grinning.
His head swiveled quickly as she crested the rise at a run, a distinct arrow jutting from her arm. He gritted his teeth as Laurelin ran like the wind, to where Akbar and Reununzio and Tiea waited. They were the line. He bared his teeth in a small grin. He sent a prayer to Hoar before the madness was let loose....
"Please....let them hold the line....."
The Bedine came charging over the crest, in hot persuit of Laurelin. He watched....and waited.....
They came into range......He grinned, and prayed that this worked. They had not the time to talk strategy before it began....plans were formed...but he held his reserve. Plans often were abandoned...one could never predict the tide of battle. He knew this well.
They charged straight for the others, not seeing him. Yelling, howling, chanting....their dogs ahead of them, running faster than they could, snarling and baying.
As the first ones passed, he let the arrow fly....and it found its mark, clear in the chest of one of the hounds. He watched as it faltered in the sand...watched as the dog behind the one he shot changed it's coarse, toward him. As did two of the Bedine. He growled, letting loose another arrow, putting the first hound down before it could rise to attack.
His breath deepened...distantly he heard shouts, from what seemed a million miles away...he saw arrows fly toward those charging the line, out of the corner of his eye. In the back of his mind, he prayed that it was enough.....hopefully, he bought them a small fraction of time.
He placed an arrow and pulled back...an arrow flew in from the side, from the line, taking the hound that was now charging up the hill toward him in the side. He worried....in that small place in the back of his mind that was still connected.....the rest of him....was somewhere else.
He let fly the arrow, taking the second hound in the head, putting it down. The two Bedine came close behind, charging up the slope. He grinned, seeing them struggling to run up the sandy dune,slower progress than the hound had made. He set his sight on the first Bedine, and let fly the arrow...taking a bit of the wood off of the side of his shield. He cursed, and fell back. He sprinted down the hill toward the line. Dim shapes, arrows flying, metal meeting metal, spikes from a trap springin forth.....
He turned and knelt quickly, looking behind. He loosed, and agian found his mark, dropping the first bedine halfway down the dune. The other was right behind, running toward....an arrow flew some feet from his head, landing in the Bedines thigh. Still he charged, barring his teeth in the madness of the halfmoon.
Christophen growled and braced himself for what was to come....the azir of the Bedine slicing through his leathers, deep into his chest. The smile of victory faded from the Bedines face a moment later, when he realized that the cut he had made had been at the exact moment Christophen had loosed the arrow he had fitted.
The spray of blood caught Christophen in the face, as his arrow lodged squarely in the Bedines throat. He grimaced slightly, as the body tumbled to the sand...his blood mixed with the spray of the Bedines. No time. He turned the prayer still on his lips.....
The line had held. His distraction had worked. Only their leader, Hamma, remained standing, in a feirce struggle with Akbar. His mind empty, he fired, his arrow finding its mark in the chiefs thigh. All else was blocked out....no more threats were seen. Akbar struck a blow to Hamma's head....he seemed to stumble. Seconds later, his last arrow found it's mark, as Hamma clutched for the arrow lodged in his throat. He fell, as Akbar drove home his own Azir in the man's head, severing it from the body.
His eye immediately searched....scanning for dangers left unseen. There were none. The line pressed forward over the crest, as he slowly went to his knees. He knelt, eyeing the carnage. Teia stood nearby, breathing deeply. The others now gone.....pressing a route. He looked up to the stars.....and felt a small smile beem down upon him. He smiled in return. He could feel Hoar....he nodded slowly, and gave thanks. The line had held.
He quietly whispered a word of thanks, then slowly leaned back, hands covering his wound. He let out a small sigh, and closed his eyes, grinning.
Zyrus Meynolt: [Party] For the record, if this somehow blows up in our faces and I die, I want a raiseSwift wrote: Permadeath is only permadeath when the PCs wallet is empty.
<Castano>: danielnm - can you blame them?
<danielmn>: Yes,
<danielmn>: Easily.
"And in this twilight....our choices seal our fate"
-
ewayneself
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 183
- Joined: Tue Aug 02, 2005 6:41 am
-
psycho_leo
- Rust Monster
- Posts: 1162
- Joined: Tue Jan 17, 2006 2:10 am
- Location: Brazil