Path Of Vengeance-Dark Beginnings

  • Thread starter Wreath.of.Geistmane
  • Start date
Status
Not open for further replies.
"nngh.. I-i've been Better, Nedra." she grumbled, struggleing witht eh heavy armor she had been confined into for a moment before lettign her pride go. she held a hand up to Nedra. "I can't blasted move in this armor for beans." she cursed, awakenign flushed and a tad sweaty. The night had not been kind to her, frightful dreams and haunted visions.
 
Her lips tightened in sympathy, recalling a time when she had been trained while tied up with sandbags. She imagined chain mail and armor weren't much different and had gone nearly naked when she'd been presented with any. Stealth and agility were key to their profession and ability to perform.

"Maybe your new boss-man will properly outfit you." She lowered her voice and leaned closer, "or maybe we'll gut the bastards and have more cloth than we know to handle!" With a wink she took a final swig from her water pouch, before they set off once more into the forest.

The trees had thinned out only slightly, making their practical stampede a few decibels lower. For the most part, travel was unimpeded. Their bonds were straining the womens' wrists and ankles, though not yet breaking flesh. An estimated hour of travel remained, and Nedra set her mind to old songs, letting her steps come down to ancient beats.
 
Wreeath joined in when she knew the words, but keeping rythme was hard for her. that naggign hunger had made her already devour every last bite of rations they had given her... yesterday. The Thief kept as much pace as possibl, but with the smell of the towns stables starting to fill their nostrols, the smoke of the chimneys and sounds of civilization just over the crest of the next hill, Wreath stumbled. She gasped as she hit the ground on both knee's, breathing heavily and clutching the ground. Her vision blurred and spinned, her heart raced. Sweat poured off of her hair from marching in that armor almost half a day without rest now.

"N-nedra..." she managed to blurt, unable to catch her breathe. it felt like every bone in her body was re-arrangeing. Like every sinew was squirming like maggots in a corpse. With every breathe she filled lungs made of parchment with air turned to fire by her desperation. Her stomach crawled like a thousand angry centipedes marching through her core. but that was a seperate feeling, lower in her body and deeper, for her stomach growled in protest, sending the taste of bile and the heat of acid up her throat. no, the crawling sensation was seperate from her stomach pain... and THAt was frightening her. everything was frightening her.

Her entire body was wrecked with a chorus of devils, pain their instrument. "C-can't b-breathe..." she gasped, drawing in air harshly, and letting it out only a bit slower. She was inches from passing out.
 
Wreath's condition stopped Nedra's song and march, and as much as the possibility of vomit disgusted her, she found herself approaching the agonized woman. A burly arm impeded her progress, landing the outstretched hand on Wreath's armor in order to lift her by it. Nedra's suggestion of water and rest were ignored and overpowered by the man's voice.

"Wot's wrong wi'h yeew pipsqueak?" Was all he drawled as his companions closed in around her.

"Get that armor off of her!" Came Nedra's demanding tone. "She can't bloody well breathe you dolts!" The one who had lifted Wreath now set her down to be restrained at the arms by other men, and yanked off the bulkier chunks of her armor. Piece by piece, Nedra noticed the woman was...swelling, almost. There was no possible way she could have been bulging with pregnancy that fast even if that were the case, and they'd been practically starved to boot. It was uncanny, and there was not a thing in Nedra's mind that made sense to explain what unfolded before her.
 
They left the chestplate, but took away her heavy travel cloak and all the other bits of the armor leaving her in clothe pants, a now too-short white clothe shirt, and the breastplate. She gripped tight to the ropes they bound her wrists with, and leaned(with alot of disgust) on the man holding her. she kept her eyes closed and breathed deeply a few times, like someone who had just finished a good, long cry.

"J-just a little sick to me stomach... I guess" she mumbled, biting her bottom lip the whole time. She caught Nedra's Eyes as she was stareing at her bloated gut, sticking slightly out of the short undershirt she had. she looked away and whimpered some as her stoamch moaned in protest again, still wrackign her body with those disarming slithery feelings. She was starting to understand what was happening... and she didn't like it. not one bit.
 
Once Nedra caught Wreath's eyes again she asked what was wrong. "What's happening to you?! Let her go! She might pop..." Nedra kept her distance, unsure of the protocol of this unknown. Whatever the case, she put herself behind the men at an angle she could still see Wreath.
 
"juss get moofing!" he barked, shoveing Wreath forward and pointing to several men, barking in a foreign tongue he orderd them to march... straight into the sewers of the Undercity.

-----


The smell of foul things and moveing hobb-nailed boots pounded against Wreath's senses as she walked with a bit of teeter in her step. wether it was from the weight in her abdomen, or the nauseating groans and churns comeing rather loudly from her stomach she couldn't tell. Her senses were skewed and she panted a little from the effort of moveing so harshly onward. twisting right and left and over broken wrought iron bars they went. Water trickled down the stone facades in a large room, a waterfall of greenish brown water spouting into the pool int he middle. A pile of skeletal remains mounted on pikes was stuck in the middle of the place, gold coins in the eye sockets for any of those stupid enough to try for them.

The thugs took them toa dryer area about a half hour's time later. The floor's were well worn and there was no waterways here. maintenance ducts and escape tunnels from the castle above perhaps. Soon enough it was proven as they came up into a clean well area with fresh water and glittering emerald moss by the watery pool. a bucket on a rope dropped down and splashed a bit on their feet upon the stone walkway on the edge. Wreath gasped and clutched her tummy, sweatign profusely. it was painful. painful like nothing she'd ever experienced before, like being deprived of so many things all at once, not just sustenance. the air was too little. the space around her too close, her throat too dry, her feet uncomfortable in her shoes. everything was aggravated and magnified by this feeling seated deep in her core.

The whole march they kept her infront of them, and Nedra behind, not letting the two see eachother.

And then they came to the bottom of the dungeons. empty and desolate, dusty and smelling of o-zone and earth.
 
They marched through the grime, keeping a struggled pace; Nedra tried to take smaller breaths to avoid the dank and musty smells, to no avail. She'd lost sight of Wreath for the most part but could hear her having trouble keeping pace. Once the worst of the smells and the wet were behind them, she found herself craving a cell - anything would be better than anymore of this demented parade.

The women were placed in separate cells, informed they would meet with their new Lord the following day. Once their "escorts" had left them behind, Nedra neared the bars to talk to Wreath in the cell across from hers.

"You alright in there?" The whole place creeped her out. She couldn't see anything in the other cells, but she did her best to avoid imagining what shadows might hold.
 
Wreath lay in the back corner in the same position she ahd been tossed there. her cuffs had been kept upon her wrists. The sound of her breathing could be heard. a weak, stressed and humid sound, like she was trying to keep her head above water on her tiptoes. She didn't moan or groan. just breathed. harshly in, slowly out in the darkness, lit by a single torch whose light only made her situation seem more... horrid.

"b-b-been better." she wheezed. It sounded slightly... off. like it wasn't really Wreath... or perhaps it was just the anger and disgust in her voice. even though plagued before int eh cell ont he ship, she had kept her calm... she was NOT calm anymore. she couldn't see Nedra. but she coudl see her stomach protrudeing out from beneath the white linen shirt and Heavy brazier they had strapped to her bust. the brazier was startignt o feel tight as the mass grew beneath it.
 
The sound of metal reverberated off the walls of the musty Dungeons. The good news was, the place seemed seldom used, the straw on the floors was freshly unused, and the gates where not rusted from being gripped for centuries by dirty men pleading for forgivness. None of that was very comforting to know when the man came in sight.

The cloak around his burly shoulders was exotic animal skin with a thick ridge around the bottom, probably wolf fur. The hood bunched up over his head with a long, braided beard of dark tan and orange colors comeing to a a sharp end by a brass clasp prutruding from beneath. His nose was like a Ravens beak, long and thick, but with a dark elegance. He was an older fellow, perhaps in his sixties, but barely if so, and spry looking enough as he stood there between their cells, looking striaght forward... stareing.. just stareing at nothingness.

"I trust your journey to me was...Extravagently uneventful?" His voice was but a raspy whisper, enough that the girls would have to strain to listen to him even int he seclusion of this distant dungeon away fromt eh din of the city around them.
 
Nedra would never be able to forget the sight of what was happening to the other woman, and could not identify it for all the world. But it scared her, right down to her core, and forced her back into the shadows of her own cell. The sounds of someone approaching kept her crouched and quiet, though it would be obvious to the owner of this place that she was there all the same. She huddled, taking in the man and his fur cape with bristled nerves.

There was nothing that might have prepared her for the effect of this man's presence; an icy chill that poured its way down her vertebrae and every joint in her body and had her backed up to the damp stone wall. Stifled sounds of worry threatened to cry out at the stranger or answer his question in exchange for the mercy of his leaving. But her words might have fallen on deaf ears, as he fixated on the cell opposite hers. He seemed to be more offended or intrigued - it was difficult for Nedra to judge his disposition - than he did worried. Breathing was the only thing keeping a cap on her swelling fear and paranoia.
 
"nothing about this has been UNEvENTFUL." she hissed in retort to the man, who only chuckled with mild entertainment at her plight.

"ah, Your tone and disposition speak to me... wreath, is it?... yes. I think You'll find my home much more comfortable than That shack of a fortress with it's MEGER offerings.... afterall, We did go to great lengths to secure your current... gifts. And we wouldn't want to spoil our host." '
The mans words were cryptic bu tsounded blatantly purposeful. Words of the occult persuasion from a man obviously cloaked in knowledge of the arcane. However, nothing of magic resonated from this man. no pendants or wands or staff on his person, no mystical markings.

He was Just a man. And that perhaps was what disturbed Wreath the most.

"Offerings? If you know so much of whats happening to me, Why do you hold back?'" she said in that grisly, evil tone from before. IT seemed all she cared about was food.

The man clapped his hands twice rapidly and the sound of thedungeon door opening split the awkward silence caused by the echo from his hands.
 
The sound of Wreath's voice disturbed her, even more than his effortless magic or whatever it was opening the door. She was steadily losing herself, and Nedra had no idea how to help her. Panic was gumming up her thoughts, and her heart was steadily racing.

"What's happening to her?! And what are you doing with me?" The deal had been he wanted Wreath, and for the time being their own idea of escape seemed impossible. It struggled within her, the will to survive and the desire to help Wreath. She was losing touch with her inner assassin but quite frankly, she was nearly losing her mind.
 
trought he doors tot he dungeon came the squeeking of wheels and a portly man in tattered chefs garments came in with a covered serveing table. He was let into Wreath's cell and there was a low growl.

The man screeched and ran out of the cell as fast as possible, closeing it behind him and lookign to his lord, who smilled gently. "Bring another every hour or so... and she might be more talkative later." The lord said, turning around to Face Nedra.

"If you want to know whats happening to her... then you will have to give me somethign in return." he said somberly, without entertainment in his voice.

"You may never escape, assasin... if you need to know, i don't see how, armed with that informatin, i can let you go." he chuckled a bit and turned to leave.

The sound of Wreath devouring food and the silent clink of chains across the room on the wall was all they where left to. The Jailer came up to her Cell, and put a key in the lock, leaveing it there and looking to her.

"Best get out while you can, lady." he said, in a stupidly simple voice. a meer peon. "I'taint worth gettin mixed up in."
 
"Wreath?" There was no answer, just more gnashing and squishing sounds from the opposite cell. She tried not to gag on the smells, hand gripping the key from within the cell. Everything in her screamed to leave, but her panic would do her no service in these tunnels. It was no use trying to remember the way they'd come, so she resolved to sneak back where the jailer had appeared from and into the castle itself if she could manage it. She was already wrapped up in this, and far too curious of these maniacal Lords to just pretend it didn't happen. Making a silent promise, she vowed to return for Wreath. If it hadn't been for her, Nedra would still be on that island, racking up punishment for escape attempts. Though, she would soon wish that's what her life had been left to.

{{...}}

Sebastian had kept many contacts, some of whom were into more experimental arts, and for a contracted liaison he and Nedra visited the home of one of these strange men. She'd caught lengthy glances of rooms she wasn't supposed to see, full of jars of things which no one should lay eyes on, and bottles filled with the worst sort of potions. One of these, in a black bottle with a chalked 'X' and a cork stopper, had been a quiet goal. It had been the poison that eventually killed him, instead of her.

That place came to mind, reminded her of the castle she was in now - everything was a shade of evil and had the stink of rot. As she combed her way out of the dungeons and past experimental rooms, she pushed away the lingering guilt - that someone had died in her place - and tried to focus on her steps and surroundings. Wreath was going through something inexplicable and likely evil, and Nedra couldn't help her if she was dead. She'd taken her chance and now had to find someplace to hide, to wait out...whatever this was. Once she made her way past the gore of the kitchens, she found the servants' quarters and the dusty hallway that lead all over the castle. Deserted enough to be relatively safe, she stayed crouched and hurried as far as she could; looking for stairs or attics or lingering people, taking advantage of every nook and cranny to hide her.
 
Wreath was lost in her own mind. an entire day of being deprived of food and drink. Now she had infront of her a feast fit for a king. Well, perhaps not a king, but the amounts where glorious in her hungry eyes. She hadn't noticed she had devoured eight full roast turkeys, or that she had gone through more than a dozen potatoes, boiled carrots and loaves of bread. She did not notice anything wrong until her vision started going blurry.

"Mm.. oh." she felt a rumble of pain inside her body as she leaned back on teh wall, her rump sat steadily on the stone floor slipped a few inches as she leaned back, part of the cart she was eating from was unseen from the girth of her engorged stomach.

Knowing what is wrong, and being able to stop it are two very different things. Wreath knew she was pushing the limits of her body.. but god DAMN it was she still so VERY hungry.

"I-I'll eat that. nnnn bastards Heart.. f-for this." she whimpered, takeing another bite of her ninth turkey.

{--------------}

The large castle was mostly abandoned it seemd. roughly half of it was occupied, the rest was decrepit, old, and run down hallways and dusty ballrooms that had not seen the laughter of rich folk in ages. The rot smell was soon replaced with the scent of fresh air as she found the most deserted part of the place....

The Ancient Cathedral. old dead candles lay in their wrought iron stands, the roof was caved in in several places, and the stairs to the loft where broken and gone, but it would be a perfect hideing place if she could find a way up.
 
After checking to assure her feet didn't leave prints behind in the dust and dirt, Nedra crept closer to the loft where there once had been steps. There was one stairwell that once led to the loft platform, which stretched beneath the crinkled rose window. Silently she crept across the edge of tattered floor rug, stepping from pew to splintered pew, as she tried to ignore the pointed stained shards at her back and at her feet.

The raised flooring itself looked intact, and would provide a decent vantage point - the round window above it looked out on the grounds, and from within she had two escape routes. The hall that led back to servants' chambers was one, and as she passed the other, she saw even more candles once lit in blessing. Beyond that alcove she saw the hallway continued, and it held no apparent damage or danger or foot traffic. Returning her thoughts to the loft space at the top of the pillar, she considered how to climb it. Once she approached it, she undid her belt and threw it around the column to catch it with her opposite hand. When she was sure she had a grip, Nedra achingly shimmied her way up the thing. It had been quite some time since she'd had to pull her own weight so literally, and felt out of shape. Even so, she pulled and pulled her way along, only briefly glancing at either entrance. At the top she swung her elbows over, giving one last heave and rolling over to catch her breath.

It was dirty yes, like the rest of the place, but the broken window offered air - fresh, free, unadultered air.
 
Wreath was not so lucky locked away in her cell, carried offerings of food to sate whatever evil was blooming inside of her, Her fate may well have been sealed, but in triffleing with Nedra... Perhaps it was his OWN life the Lord of the Castle should have been worrying about.

--------

Night Came and left, and The many servants and caretakers of the castle Vayne Went about their business as usual. A loud howl of pain echoed out from the dungeon and carried it's way up through the commonground and to the broken window of the ruined cathedral.

"AWOOO!!! Me Nose, me nose!!!!Fecking bitch, Ate my nose!!!!!" yelled the burly grunt that had brought Nedra and Wreath intot he plac,e his great bouldery knobs of hands held tight to teh bleeding mess that was the middle of his face. Blood pouring out from between the fingers. Wreath was in her cell Reclineing Backwards with a freshly blackened Eye, Laughing like the deil himself at the brute's expense. there was blood on either side of her mouth and a genuine smile upon her face. satisfaction.

Word got around fast. Whatever was being held in the dungeon now.. was a viscious, clawing, biteing animal! or so the servants said. nobody really knew what was happening, but word got around that the brute had been seen getting a scolding from Their master...
 
The curious thing about the structure of certain buildings is their acoustics, and in the case of Lord Demento (as Nedra's internal dialogue dubbed him) into his cathedral echo'd the muttered kitchen chatter. Slicing one of the several apples she had pilferred from said kitchens, the woman overheard many strange things passed in the hallways.

Chatter of monsters and fear of evil things lurking in the dungeons wafted up to her perch, and at least once she caught the garbled bellows of a familiar minion. She found she worried for Wreath, but wondered if there was anything left of the woman she knew. It made her swallow the last of her apple harder, and she had to drink to clear her throat. If the woman was dead or gone...how long could she wait? She resolved to scout the castle, get a feel for the layout, and gather more gossip before making a major move.
 
the guard here was almost non-existant really. It seemed all the policing was done in the city around the castle, leaving only a handful of guards left to the hallways andto walk the towers of the ancient castle. The west wing was deserted except by a group of eight workers re-laying stones and re-structuring the place. the smell of burnt wood and ash came from the area even as new timbers where placed up to heal the broken section.

As for the Lord of the castle? Baron Von Roth ,He was the Advisor of the old King that ruled here eighteen years ago, now dead adn without an Heir, The kings advisor became the lord, It seemed he was attempting rather hard to get out of the position at one time, looking for ANYONE with royal blood to rule the place, But for eight years he had governed the kingdom, perhaps not witht eh care of a king, but with the understanding of a businessman, and business was good.

ALL the trade routes for three kingdoms came through his Port and left with hulls fat with cargo. The recent artistic movement striking the civilized world had not taken route here, but ageing tapestries and the like dotted the castle speaking of a time when royals made court in a once regal place.

Nobody knew about Wreath or Nedra... except that burly sunuva whore who had cloth scraps over his face, hiding the remains of a nose that was bitten off. He sauntered through a particularly empty hallway around Dusk that Day holding a large Sack of something in one hand, and a half empty Beer Stein in the other.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back