Out of the ashes

  • Thread starter Mako Torriblaidd
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((Nono, it's fine. We can do that if you wish, I had it planned in my mind that he'd come back and find Rosabala trying to get his family out only to be able to save just her.))
 
((I like your idea better its more dramatic xDD So shall I start off D-day then?))
 
((Would you? Just have him come back, ash and death raining...))
 
Falling forward onto his knees, Decimus wished desperately that he'd had a reason to bring his armour and shield to town. It would have provided at least a little protection against the fire raining from the sky as if Vulcan himself had decided to loose his rage on the city.

It had started with an earthquake - but recalling that the maid had said they were frequent of late - had dismissed it and resumed the company of his friend as they walked the streets of his childhood home. Until the scream, that is.

It was the scream of a woman, a blood-curdling shriek that drew all eyes in the marketplace toward her; a noblewoman surrounded by a party of friends and servants, ashen-faced, pointing one shaking arm towards the heavens. Decimus followed her finger even as he strode forward to ask the cause of it, and stopped in his tracks. Vesuvius was exploding; a new cloud was ascending into the sky from the mountain, black and terrifying, flinging away rocks tinged with red, and indeed spraying red from the mountain as blood sprays from a new wound.

There were scarce moments to react before Vesuvius descended upon Pompeii; great slabs of stone and black, smoking rocks rained from the heavens, searing through the cloth covers of the market booths and scorching the stone streets; harbingers by seconds of the ash and softer pumice which followed. Soon fire was all Decimus could see, breathe, smell or taste, his friend was gone, separated from him in the panic of the crowded market, and all that was in his mind was that he had to warn his family.

Turning about, he ignored the hands which grasped at his arms and tunic, and the screams for help that came from every direction as people darted about in a futile attempt to flee from the falling sky. Rock, fire, and death fell in torrents from above, burning and bruising and breaking everything they touched, people, houses, animals, Decimus no exception as he fled down the hill to his parent's estate.

Somehow in his mind he had been expecting to run ahead of the storm as one runs before rain, to find the house intact and to rush inside, seeming mad to his parents, to drag them forth before the storm crushed and burned everything. Reality swept the dream aside as if it were swatting a fly, for huge slabs of rock had crushed the gates, burning stones had set fire to the gardens in the courtyard, which flared up readily; dry as tinder from the heat. The main pillars must have collapsed for most of the house had fallen in, crushed under the masses of mountain which had fallen piece by piece onto the home in which he had played as an innocuous child.

An inhuman cry erupted from his lips as he sprinted toward the house, falling on his face over a smouldering black stone, his leg burning as he tumbled on it, skin blackening and curling back from the heat. Pain seared through his body like a drink of dry spirits and he pushed himself to his feet, adreneline forcing him onward through the flaming courtyard

"FATHER! MOTHER! WHERE ARE YOU?"
 
Adora had been preparing the morning meal for her domina and dominus when the earthquake hit, for a moment she had thought it to just be another occurrence before the echoing explosion met her ears. Fear crossed her, for a moment she feared it was the gods until she had made her way barefoot to the main court yard. It was far worse than the wrath of some uncaring diety. She was staring into the cloud, watching as debris was hurled into the sky like torches in the water. She screamed as the biggest began to fall, running back inside just in time to see one giant molten chunk fall right into the servant's quarters, the scream that followed from within made her heart sink.

She rushed about inside the villa, fire already beginning to catch support beams ablaze as she tried to gather her dominus' valuables. She was almost outside when more fell, showering her in ash and flame. She dropped the scrolls and gold she had been carrying, brushing off scalding pumice in terror. Her eyes fell to her owners, watching as they came out, carrying more only to look on in terror as the roof above gave way from the sheer weight upon it, crushing them. She rushed to them, grasping at a still moving hand, crying out trying to dig them out to no avail. Catching Decimus' voice she turned her head, eyes wide in terror, red splotches of burns covering her arms. She couldn't dig out the dead, she could only run as ash began to fall, already choking her breath away. Finding him she cried out, "They're dead! They're all dead!" She exclaimed, tears staining ash coated cheeks while she looked to him, pleading that he would have an idea, a way of saving her life.
 
Screams echoed through the swiftly darkening air as black ash and lighter pumice rained from the heavens, a blizzard of death burying the city as swiftly as the wind that bore it. Sparks and flames glowed through the darkness, creating flashes and flickers of horrifying clarity as the charred and decimated remains of his childhood home appeared around him. Squinting through the bitter fog, Decimus saw a figure flying from the collapsing estate, though through the soot and pumice in the air he could not make out who it was, and his heart gave a leap as he doubled his stumbling pace through the burning carnage, which was now nearly knee-deep in ash

His heart thudded to the soles of his feet as he recognized the servant girl and not either of his parents. It stopped entirely when her screams reached him.

'They're dead! They're all dead!'

"NO!" He denied, trying to push past her to charge into the burning rubble and stumbling; his foot caught in the hot ashes. Seeing the gigantic flames licking the blackened marble, practicality would have said that nothing could be alive in there; even if they escaped being crushed, the heat would have seared their skin off the bones. But practicality was absent from Decimus' mind at the moment, forced out by panic and rage. A wild light dilated his eyes as he tried with his already scratched and burnt hands to claw the ashes away from his foot. That he had found one living person only convinced him there had to be more. "You have to help me!"he screamed, trying to pull himself free and towards the estate "You have to help me save them!"
 
She winced as he cried out, his denial making it worse for both of them. Rushing to his side she shook her head, grasping his arms. "They're dead! I saw them die!" She cried out, trying to get through to him as she coughed, they needed to run, needed to get to the coast, get on a boat or they'd be just as dead. "Come on!" Her voice pleaded, tears staining the ash as she pulled as hard as she could, the heat already growing unbearable from the ash and fire around them.
 
Even as he dug away from the ash at his feet, more fell from the heavens to replace it. With a last desperate shove he found himself free and barely stopped himeslf from falling over the maidservant with his new momentum. As he found himself standing on a slightly more solid part of the carnage, he looked to the house with every intention of running toward it; except at that moment a monolithic fragment of something - the mountain, the house, something, crashed down, effectively flattening the estate as a wave of heat and flame rolled towards them.

And then his instinct was only to run. Grabbing the wrist of the maidservant in a harsh grip he fled. Dragging her along with the sheer force of panic, they sped through the wreckage; scraping, cutting, clawing, climbing and scrambling over and under and around the upheaval of roads streets buildings and bodies. He was dimly aware of other figures in simliar states of primal fear through the fog of ashes; running; some in the same direction as he, some wherever their feet took them. Eventually the ports loomed before them; many on fire, a few already utterly destroyed. The boats were being crowded, smaller fishing vessels were being stolen, pushed out to sea before they were too overloaded to sail.

Decimus came to an utter halt, staring at the chaos at the docks; ships of all kinds were being loaded with whoever could climb aboard; there was no one directing the classless flow; no one to say "halt! This is a military vessel!" No fishermen defending their property; just humans trying to survive.
 
Adora coughed and gagged as she was drug along behind him. Her feet far less sure than his own, leaving her to stumble and fall at many occasions. None the less she forced through the choking air and burning pain of ash in cuts while she barely managed to keep up with him. As they got to port more fear overtook her, how would they escape. She covered her mouth, coughing long strings of black sludge from her lungs. "T-there!" She exclaimed to Decimus, motioning toward a fishing vessel still taking people on.

Grabbing him this time she tugged him along, forcing her way through the crowd as best she could and up onto the nearly overloaded boat just as it was forced out to sea by the aged captain afraid to sink himself. She closed her eyes, barely able to see, bouncing around in the mass of people as the ship knocked into others, breaking smaller vessels leaving their own charges to drown.
 
It wouldn't occur to Decimus until years later that it was socially disgraceful to be dragged onto a crowded ship of general populace by a lowly maidservant, and so for the moment, his detached mind allowed the thing to happen without protest or notice of any kind.

The fishing vessel - with the benefit of a shallower draft and less the weight of military armaments and gear - pushed its way out of the bay, partly by virtue of its sails; which quickly had holes seared through them with small meteors of debris striking from the heavens like the darts of Vulcan, and partly by lucky angles on the bumps and rams from other ships trying to jostle out of the bay, rank, stature and race forgotten in the struggle to simply survive.

Decimus found himself against the railing of the ship with the maidservant still gripping his arm. He braced himself with all the strength left in his body as the throbbing masses around them jostled for holds on the shaking vessel. Eventually, what seemed like days but was really hours later, they cleared the bay and were out to sea. Some turned to look at the burning mess that was the great city of Pompeii, others, like Decimus, stared in the opposite direction towards the far horizon, either unwilling or unable to look back as the fortunate survivors on board gradually calmed their clambor and settled into despondancy, weeping, or faints.
 
Adora remained by him, having to grasp at his clothes at times to keep near in the throng of people. Her eyes were downcast, broken, afraid. She had just survived what those she had called family, friends, master, and mistress had not. It was sobering, devastating. Her eyes fell closed, leaning against him as they got into open sea, the ship taking a far more leisurely course. It was relaxing to an extent, she even fell asleep standing until the resounding explosion stole her awake again, the others gasping as they looked back, an aftershock, Vesuvius was still angered at them. Once more fireballs lit up the sky, illuminating the ash black sky. She grasped Decimus tightly, not caring for rank as more of the deadly hail began to fall, smaller this time, but still deadly. They weren't safe, the sails were soon ablaze, the ship being peppered and burning, the mob rocking it as they tried desperately to avoid the terror. It wasn't long until the ship's overloaded deck was taking on water, they were sinking.
 
((Did we want them to crash on an island or just further up the coast?
 
((It was originally written for an island but we can make it up the coast if you prefer.))
 
((I like an island better; more potential for twists (otherwise its pretty simple; they just hike toward the nearest city =/)
Also, fun fact, apparently lifeboats were not enforced or default on ships until the 1800's)))

As the city burned behind them, Decimus had almost gotten his heart rate down to something resembling normal when the ship was cast into turmoil again; burning fireballs hurled through the sales and onto the deck, sizzling on the wet timber and lighting it as it dried; the heavy canvas above caught fire and filled the air with thick, rancid smoke as the refugees and crew on board screamed and rushed through the ship, looking for an escape as the wind carried the burning vessel farther and farther from shore.

Decimus was hardly more composed than anyone else; he was just as afraid to drown, just as rattled by the mountain erupting with the wrath of the gods, but he did have the advantage of being a soldier; churning crowds of panicking people were a situation he was trained to handle himself in. He grabbed the maidservant by the arm as he began moving through the crowds, why he wasn't sure; maybe instinct caused him to cling to the one semifamiliar face on board.

Unfortunately, while Decimus' training as a soldier helped in the panicking crowds, his lack of training as a sailor worked against him, both with balance on the pitching deck, and orientation on the ship as a whole. He found himself stumbling over the deck as it first rose up to meet his feet and then dropped out from under them, sending him sprawling onto his knees. Struggling back to his feet by aid of the rigging, and still keeping a tight grip on Adora, something large and solid and powerful hit him from behind, knocking the wind out of his lungs and his feet off the deck just as they regained it; he found the sea rushing up to meet his face shortly after the deck rails scraped up his legs; hastily he released his grip on Adora and only had time to notice that she was falling with him as the cold Mediterranean surged around them.

He wasn't sure how long he tried to swim; his heavy sword constantly trying to drag him to the bottom. A smart person would have cut it off, Decimus refused. The ship was burning and sinking quickly even as the choppy sea bore them away from it; debris scattered through the water and somehow a decent size chunk of what used to be the bow got within grabbing distance. Getting to it used up the last of Decimus' energy, and his muscles complied only to raise his upper body onto it before the world became black.

((I wasn't sure if Adora would know how to swim or at least tread water or if Decimus would have to tow her, so thats up to you how she survives in the water I suppose =) Feel free to say my character had to hold her up or whatever if need be))
 
Adora was bounced about behind him, doing her best to keep her hold on his tunic as the ship continued to rock and people frantically dart about trying to find shelter. A small cry escaped her, muffled by the throng of people as she too fell with him, her knees hitting the splintered deck hard. She had barely made it to stand only to see the water come up as well, fear and confusion as to what she had done to Neptune to deserve such a fate crossed her before the wall hit her. She clawed at the ship, desperate to save herself only to find herself within the dark surging sea like so many others. Most bleeding out worse than her, they'd die in this water.

Desperately with all her might she fought against the water as it threatened to drag her down, her woolen dress becoming heavy. With aching, bruised, and cut legs she clambered to the same chunk Deciumus had found. Still she fought to keep her head above the waves, unable to take suitable refuge with him already upon it. None the less in the thankfully warmer waters she kept herself up, by sheer will and the perceived aid of the gods. It wouldn't last, she too slipped into the black as they approached a small island. The dead and debris following them in. She was washed up as the tide left, on her back in the sand, small streaks of red coming from her shins and knees where the deck had cut and splintered into her. Otherwise besides the bruises she was alive.
 
It was the heat that woke Decimus up. His mouth was as dry as the sand he had washed up on, and his heavy tunic and cloak which had been soaked when he washed up, dried with the receding tide and now served only to amplify the heat which pounded down from the sun.

Blinking his eyes open, he squinted at the bright sun, and then tried to get up. Tried.

His injuries came back to him in a rush the second he tried to move, lacerations on his legs from smashing through the railing, and what felt like a massive bruise on his back (which he was lying on) and possibly a few cracked ribs from the boom impact as well. Gritting his teeth, he coughed, an instinctive need to moisturize his mouth, though each cough caused pain from his ribs and back. The sand in his cuts didn't help, either.

Drawing a slow breath and holding it as he clenched his jaw, Decimus pushed himself to a sitting position, seeing stars from his ribs. A heavy clank drew his glance downward, where his sheathed sword was still by his side. He resolved to check for damage from the water in a minute. Looking up, he moved slowly - his neck stiff from lying on the sand for gods knew how long - to look around. They were on a beach that was sand toward the water, but majority rocks and broken boulders; a few trees seemed to be about a quarter mile off; scrabbly things preceded by a field of shrubs and thorns. None of it looked familiar, and he could see the sparkle of more water through the trees; or maybe it was just the heat waves. A mass to his right attracted his attention, and he saw the maidservant - Adrea, Odra? Something like that, washed up as well. She was still unconscious by the look of it. Groaning with the effort, Decimus scooched over the meter the separated them and reached to lay a hand over her neck; still a heartbeat. He breathed a sigh of relief which surprised him; because wherever he was, at least he wasn't alone.
 
A whimper escaped her lips as he touched her, bringing her mind back to the living. Her eyes barely opened with the salt crusted over the lids. Lips parted with a gasp and a cough, the sudden realization of the salty dehydration of her body bringing her to full consciousness The pain helped keep her there. "Decimus?" She questioned, once more forgetting the proper title as she focused her vision upon him and then the dark clouds still making their way across the sky. Slowly she forced herself to sit, bones popping and cracking as she moved. Her face showed the hint of despair, sorrow at all that had happened. Part of her had pleaded it to be some form of nightmare.

She glanced around, jerking her foot away from a corpse laying just below her, still being pushed about by the returning tide. Slight repulsion crossed her features while she glanced about more, wreckage and bodies. Things that could be used, though there were far more pressing issues to be dealt with. Specifically both of their apparent dehydration. "Can you walk?" She questioned, turning to him before coughing, a bit of seawater mixed with black ash meeting the sand and eliciting a shiver from her. With apparent difficulty she moved to try to stand, her legs weak and wobbling before she fell back to it with a wince and a cry. She was aware of how weak she had become, the strain of the run had pulled many muscles, the additional toll of trying to stay afloat had emptied her of energy. Her head lowered, knowing they needed out of the sun, knowing they needed water... Lifting her gaze to him she took a long moment to compose herself before forcing herself to stand once more, taking a deep breath on shaky legs before looking about, searching for anything. That glint, it had to be water... "We need to get out of the sun..." Her voice came across hoarse and ragged, another fit of coughing once more bringing black ichor from her throat before she looked to him, unsure of whether he needed help and if she had the strength to move herself let alone him.
 
Decimus had withdrawn his hand and begun the struggle to his feet as soon as Adora coughed back to consciousness. His knees shook with the effort of supporting his weight, despite his clenched-jaw will to keep them steady. Swallowing, he offered a hand to the stumbling maidservant; she was right, they needed water, and shade. Both of which seemed to be far out of reach, beyond the rocks and shrubs and bushes. A few minute's walk, normally, but in his state it seemed a day's hike.

"Let's go" he said, his usually strong voice coming out a hoarse whisper. His throat felt like sandpaper, and it took a lot of effort not to cough and set his bruised and cracked ribs off again. "There's trees over there" He raised one arm - painfully - and gestured towards the straggly excuse for a forest in the near distance. As he waited for her to take or decline his arm, he wondered why he had offered it; he barely had strength to support himself. Habit, he supposed, and maybe they could lean on each other, though she looked to be in as bad a state as he was, if not worse; she didn't have the strength and discipline of military training on her side. First things first though, class was a non-issue now; they just needed to stay alive.
 
She took the arm, leaning into him just a bit. Adora didn't want to burden him any more than she already was, though she also knew it would be damnably difficult to do it herself. With a wince she began to walk with him, helping as much as she could. Each step was a labour, avoiding stones and debris, barely able to lift her feet above them to prevent tripping. Soon, with agony and what seemed a life time of struggle they were within the sparse tree line. The gods deemed fit to give them someplace that appeared survivable, some edible plants, a few small animals darting about. Water within sight coming from a crack in the raised middle of the island. A shout of praise escaped her, her dry throat protesting the elation she couldn't hold in.
 
Somehow Decimus managed to hobble with Adora across the rugged, rocky beach to the shabby patch of trees. His sandals long since lost to the undertow of the sea, the sharp rocks cut his feet and scraped at the dusty wounds; the thorn-bushes and dry saw-grass sliced at his legs as well, and all he wanted by the time they reached shade and a pittance of a fountain was to have both of them off at the knees.

He stumbled toward the liquid, all-but falling on it in his attempt to scoop it up with his shaking hands, and giving that up after a minute to slurp at it directly. The water was warm, and dusty, but didn't taste of salt, and poured moisture through his mouth and down his parched throat. He slumped down beside it, gasping to catch his breath again. The shade from the trees was thin and patchy; they would need a more solid shelter or the sun would kill them. The heat had already nearly dried them to crisps on the beach. But what on earth could they make shade from? They'd have to find something besides the overgrown bushes of trees they were sitting under; they had nothing to cut the green wood with anyway. Cut... what did that remind him of, cut, slice, chop... sword!

Shifting, he grasped the scabbard with one hand and, bracing himself for the worst, drew the blade partially It gleamed back at him; tarnished with dust and dripping from retained seawater, but otherwise undamaged. Gritting his teeth to keep from groaning protest at the weight on his injured arm, he drew it out completely and upended the lighter scabbard. A little water dribbled out, and he left it tilted to dry. The sword he'd need a cloth for; the corner of his tunic would do, though it was dirty and torn. His cloak was long-gone, he vaguely remembered the weight of it choking against his throat, and unclasping it in the water. He concentrated on the mundane task of makeshift weapon maintenance; an instinctive need for the familiar fuelling his movements in an utterly alien situation.
 
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