- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Online Availability
- I work swing shift, schedule changes daily.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Medieval Fantasy. Or pirates. Pirates are always good. When it comes to reading, however, a good steampunk is always great. Above all, however, I would definitely have to say my favorite is Dark Fantasy.
As if waking from a terrible nightmare, James had found himself opening his eyes to a setting bright with light and greenery. An empty field, though his eyes struggled to adjust to the light. Last he remembered, he'd been waiting on his ship ready to welcome death with open arms. Perhaps that is what has happened and this was the sweet blessing he'd been given. A thought that was a mere jest passing his mind, if he'd been dead he'd find himself in an eternal pit of punishment. Though the thought of a pit turned to be more of a reality than he'd thought, for as his eyes focused he noticed he was in no field after all, but rather within the basin of a set of mountains. The greenery he saw was no illusion, but now his eyes were able to focus on the blue of the water, clouded by dirt. The odd coloration of the sky being as red as it was reflected onto many surfaces of the area, painting the landscape with a slight hue of red as well. He was not in heaven, that much was for sure.
Getting himself onto his feet, James was able to collect himself rather quickly. Rubbing his eyes, he felt something he didn't recognize about his hands; they were clean. Under normal circumstances his hands would have brushed at least a little dirt of salt from his sweat into his eyes and defeat the purpose of rubbing them at all, but looking at them, there was not a speckle to be found. A small detail, but one that made him all the more suspicious of what had just happened. Looking around, he realized he was not alone and he became startled, reaching for his cutlass just to be safe. Disappointment rushed over his thoughts as he soon realized there was no cutlass to grasp, his hand waved a few times to check, but striking nothing thrice over confirmed his fears. He was unarmed. But it didn't matter, there was a large pond directly nearby, he'd simply need to attune to it to use it properly. Disappointment dissolved into fear, his magic was failing him. It wasn't that he was out of energy, such was impossible for his abilities. It was as if having a muscle you mean to flex, but being unable to do so. He knows his magic is there, but he can't use it.
Panic quickly rushed through the pirates mind as he looked for anything he might be able to use as a weapon, anything as simple as a stick would do him some good right now. Regardless, while manically looking around his eyes did settle upon a figure he'd recognized. This was one that introduced himself as Iather on his ship! But that was impossible, Iather was an illusion created by the desperation of a starving and dehydrated fool clinging to life with no more than his insanity to hold him together. Iather was not real, he couldn't be real. But the death-like being was accompanied by 2 others, one a youthful one but still clearly aged enough to be called a man and the other a masked one, the mask itself bore no facial features of its own. The three were daunting when they stood together.
"Captain James," spoke Iather. "You're the first to wake, I see!" The voice was easy to hear, but hard to understand. It was as though the throat had gone entirely dry and the crackling of his words made James step just a little closer, if only to hear Iather more clearly. "We made a deal, and you were the last one we needed, an irony it is that you'd be the first to awaken after your fate. You'll find that despite being in dire need of sustinance before, you now have made a full recovery. Argenesis is to thank for that," Iather said, motioning to the youthful man dressed in blue robes.
In this moment, James knew what his fate was. He was being dragged to hell before the devil himself had appeared to strike a bargain. Yes, he remembered it now, he'd told the devil he'd participate in a game. If he'd been of sound mind, James would have cursed his fate and let his life be no more, but men have a strange way of finding a reason to live when they stare at their grave. Convinced his fate was to run like a rat through a maze, James bowed his head, nothing to say. This was not out of shame, but rather a bow out of respect. James also enjoyed tampering with the lives of others for his pleasure, and the scale on which the devil could do it filled him with envy.
For now, James stood in wait for the other bodies lying around the ground to wake up.
Getting himself onto his feet, James was able to collect himself rather quickly. Rubbing his eyes, he felt something he didn't recognize about his hands; they were clean. Under normal circumstances his hands would have brushed at least a little dirt of salt from his sweat into his eyes and defeat the purpose of rubbing them at all, but looking at them, there was not a speckle to be found. A small detail, but one that made him all the more suspicious of what had just happened. Looking around, he realized he was not alone and he became startled, reaching for his cutlass just to be safe. Disappointment rushed over his thoughts as he soon realized there was no cutlass to grasp, his hand waved a few times to check, but striking nothing thrice over confirmed his fears. He was unarmed. But it didn't matter, there was a large pond directly nearby, he'd simply need to attune to it to use it properly. Disappointment dissolved into fear, his magic was failing him. It wasn't that he was out of energy, such was impossible for his abilities. It was as if having a muscle you mean to flex, but being unable to do so. He knows his magic is there, but he can't use it.
Panic quickly rushed through the pirates mind as he looked for anything he might be able to use as a weapon, anything as simple as a stick would do him some good right now. Regardless, while manically looking around his eyes did settle upon a figure he'd recognized. This was one that introduced himself as Iather on his ship! But that was impossible, Iather was an illusion created by the desperation of a starving and dehydrated fool clinging to life with no more than his insanity to hold him together. Iather was not real, he couldn't be real. But the death-like being was accompanied by 2 others, one a youthful one but still clearly aged enough to be called a man and the other a masked one, the mask itself bore no facial features of its own. The three were daunting when they stood together.
"Captain James," spoke Iather. "You're the first to wake, I see!" The voice was easy to hear, but hard to understand. It was as though the throat had gone entirely dry and the crackling of his words made James step just a little closer, if only to hear Iather more clearly. "We made a deal, and you were the last one we needed, an irony it is that you'd be the first to awaken after your fate. You'll find that despite being in dire need of sustinance before, you now have made a full recovery. Argenesis is to thank for that," Iather said, motioning to the youthful man dressed in blue robes.
In this moment, James knew what his fate was. He was being dragged to hell before the devil himself had appeared to strike a bargain. Yes, he remembered it now, he'd told the devil he'd participate in a game. If he'd been of sound mind, James would have cursed his fate and let his life be no more, but men have a strange way of finding a reason to live when they stare at their grave. Convinced his fate was to run like a rat through a maze, James bowed his head, nothing to say. This was not out of shame, but rather a bow out of respect. James also enjoyed tampering with the lives of others for his pleasure, and the scale on which the devil could do it filled him with envy.
For now, James stood in wait for the other bodies lying around the ground to wake up.