Virtues and Sinister Spells

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Fluffy, Nov 30, 2012.

  1. The air reeked of death. Burning flesh combined with the odor of smoke was causing the wildlife to flee, lest they choke to death on the polluted air. The grass that was once green was now stained with crimson, provided by the hundreds of corpses littering the ground. Debris from wooden houses was scattered about, too. Some bodies were even unfortunate enough to have been crushed by a chunk of broken roof which either killed them or simply squished their already dead body.

    It was clear to see that a massacre had happened. Men, women, children--they were all motionless. To be sure that not a single soul was left alive, there were vicious looking canines sniffing every inch of the clan's territory. They were the shape and size of wolves with a solid color of black for fur, their paws naturally a bloody red like their eyes and tail tips. Most of them looked to have overbites, too, forcing their unusually long fangs to be seen at all times. A creepy, shadowy aura emitted from them. Any person who could detect the alignments of magic would know these were spawns of evil.

    One of the dogs howled, catching sight of an injured woman running for her life. She was sobbing too loudly to be sneaky and she was constantly stumbling due to a broken ankle. The poor soul was chased into the burning forest by three of the beasts, her screams echoing until their nasty maws silenced her. That was the last of the living for the Moiety clan.

    Well, except for the member responsible for the tragic mess...

    Standing amongst the four legged savages was an even more terrifying monster. It was scarily tall, nearly twenty feet or so. Needless to say, she was a giant compared to humans. The body was massive and muscular with the shape of a bear. She had the claws and the snout of one, along with glowing purple eyes. Upon its head was a pair of ram-like horns. Along her back was a line of sharp spikes, some having the corpses of animals and people lodged between them. There were shackles around her wrists and ankles, however the chains were broken, leaving only the cuffs. What made it most horrific was her chest, where the ribs could be seen past damaged rotting flesh. Caging that was a beating black heart.

    This fierce abomination was standing still amongst the carnage, harboring her Master upon her head. A cloaked man was watching the wrap up of his work with a grim smile on his face. In one hand, he held his staff. In the other, he held a magical necklace that was dripping with blood.

    "You did well, my pet," he said to the monstrosity he stood upon, his voice a spine chilling whisper. The animal responded with a grunt, able to sense her summoner's endearment still.

    Nothing could be seen of this magical killer because of his robe and hood hiding all features, except for his eyes. They had the same glowing purple as his 'pet'. Slaughtering his people was a goal he had for years. It's what they deserved for exiling him and doubting his true potential during his graduation ceremony. His interests in dark magic put everyone in danger, so they banished him. Since then, he'd never been the same...
     
  2. The woman had been running for hours. Well, to be fair, she had been riding a horse until it had spooked and went running in the other way after the stench of death and evil had gotten too much for it, bucking her off as it tried to get away as fast as possible. Now she was stumbling over tree roots and rocks, trying to get to her village. Ever seen she had gotten the out-of-the-blue vision of decay of her village she had been trying to read it, to help prevent and protect it. The death in the air warned her--or should have at least--that it was too late. She didn't care though. She had to try.

    Her electric green eyes were wide in horror as she came across the first of the bodies, but she kept running. Perhaps there was still someone there that she could find to help; someone to save. She burst from the trees as the last woman screamed and then was cut off. She stood there, staring in horror at the carnage around her before her gaze fell on the monster that had done it. She didn't see the man at first, her eyes wide in terror as she looked up at the creature. The hood she had pulled up to cover her long strawberry-blond hair fell back as she continued to look up.

    "No," she breathed in disbelief as her gaze finally made it's way to the figure standing on top of the creature. Purple eyes peeked out from under a hood, chilling Tria to the bone, but at the same time sparked to life a little defiance as she realized she'd walked into a slaughter house and there was no way out. She would not die with the word no on her lips. She would die with a spell upon her lips, as her parents would have. "Who are you? Why did you kill my people? They were peaceful people and deserved none of this!" Tria demanded as she started to whirl through the simple spells that would require only a few words or a well placed breaking off of one of the knots on a necklace that hung around her neck. She just hoped that one of them would work against these creatures of nightmares. Her skirts hid even more spells that she had prepared ahead of time for her travels, making sure that she was packed to the neck with protective and offensive spells to last her for a long time. There was a tiny part of her that would have liked to have another wizard or witch with her as back up, but it was obvious by the carnage that no one had survived. She was the last of the Moiety clan and she would die with the honor of one--by taking out as many enemies as she could.
     
  3. Fluffy's posts:
    Manduro was about ready to leave the scene. He planned on getting into town so he could reserve a nice room for himself at a tavern. Surely, there would be a wonderful bath waiting for him, and maybe a whore to keep him company. The way he rewarded himself for a job well done was his favorite part, aside from all the killing. Unfortunately, that would have to wait... Someone was here.

    The grotesque monster he stood with made a grunt when she sensed the intruder, and the few canines Manduro summoned watched her carefully from hiding places. The only reason she wasn't being teared apart was because their Master signaled for them to stay put. This was a very interesting discovery to the evil spell caster! Not only was she left out of the massacre, she was challenging him? Within the darkness of his hood, he was grinning with amusement.

    "Your people? They were my people, too. Now they're dead people!" To go with his deep, terrifying voice was a raspy sounding laugh. Even a child would be able to identify that laugh as psychotic.

    He didn't bother answering any of her questions. Telling her why they deserved to die wasn't any of her business, unless she knew the story about him. Then again, without knowing his name, how would she piece that together?

    Running a hand along the matted fur of his summon's head, he whispered a few words that were necessary in returning the beast to her lair until he needed her again. The giant mutant seemed to growl with affection before disappearing right before their eyes, leaving behind damaged grass where she had been standing. With her vanishing, Manduro slowly dropped from midair and back to the ground. The entire time, he kept his glowing eyes on her, while his pack of monstrous wolves surrounded him to protect him. They were eagerly awaiting the moment they could spring forward and bite her.

    "So... What exactly do you intend to do? What can you do, that not even the elders could do, to stop me?" he asked, genuinely curious. There was no reason to rush into killing her. Not only did he like her bravery, he liked her appearance. He was shamelessly looking the woman over, undressing her with his eyes and imagining how she'd look in different positions with him. It had been a long time since he tasted a witch...
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Manduro watched as she concocted ingredients to create an odoriferous fog. It was confusing his pets' senses of smell, while also blinding them to all surroundings. They would be of no use in these conditions. The canines seemed to whine with disappointment as they were sent away in the same fashion as the mutant bear creature from before, except for one. Manduro needed one of the wolves for part of his plan.

    Did he think she was stupid? Yes. He felt that way towards anyone who was courageous enough to approach him with a threat. Bravery was part idiocy, though. Therefore, he admired her. It wasn't often that he could look past his own ego to appreciate such a quality.

    He smiled again within the hood of his cloak, his eyes following the faint silhouette of the which as she hid amongst the fog. One of his hands was petting along the shadowy fur of his wolf demon, a glow of green emitting from his palm a few seconds later. The dog howled until it was breathless, then collapsed to the ground, seeming to disintegrate. Manduro was absorbing all of the animal's energy. The sacrifice would mean one less wolf to serve him, but at least he had more power available for this little fight. All the summoning he did to destroy this village took a lot out of him, after all.

    Feeling refreshed, he twirled his magic staff in the air, calling upon new creatures to summon. A little vortex appeared above him, a few small bodies dropping out of it. They looked to be little imps, each the size of a child with horns on their heads, bony limbs, and fat little stomachs. Manduro muttered a few words while staring at the critters, then watched as they combusted. The spell lit his own minions on fire, causing them to scream out in pain and grab at their endlessly burning flesh.

    With a dark chuckle, he nudged against the four fiery imps. They went running blindly through the fog, Manduro's intention to scare her out the tortured little demons and maybe inflict some flame damage. Meanwhile, the warlock himself went lurking through the mist, quite fond of her choice in battlefield weather. Blood was more of a delicious aroma to him, instead of a vomit inducing smell. In fact, he was very excited by this.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Manduro had to contain the urge to make classic maniacal laughter at this situation. His vocals were already sore from doing that earlier, along with the ways he'd yell out his spells. The warlock was hellbent on making the slaughter of his race legendary, so he left out no theatrics. This was not the time to replay the memories in his head, though. There was one remaining victim thirsting for his blood, so he had to stay alert. When a person was ached by the death of their family, anything seemed possible. Especially since his people were known to be very... Passionate.

    Something lit up the area for a moment, that being the bolt of lightning that fried one of his minions. Impressive, he thought. Being able to produce that from a few words and a vial of substance took a high level of skill, if he remembered correctly. The recipes witches came up with confused him more often than not.

    He followed the echoing of her voice as she cried out with a combination of terror, and pain. Manduro walked through the crimson fog haughtily, stepping on the corpses of his clan without a care. She'd probably be able to hear him coming because of the ways the bodies cracked under his boots.

    The smell of fresh burning flesh hit his nostrils, tangling with the scent of the blood in the air. She must have been stricken by one of the flaming imps. Those poor creatures were probably near death now. They could only last so long while perishing in flames. So, he decided to trouble her with something different. Hissing out a single word, he hit his staff against the ground and watched as a length of shadows went creeping towards her. It resembled a snake with the way it slithered. Eyes could even be seen as beady orbs of white.

    Manduro's reptilian phantom jumped into the corpse of the girl's father, possessing the arm that was reaching out in the fashion of reaching out for help. The hand moved, touching to her foot and gripping it. Nothing else was animated except for the fingers. Raising the dead wasn't a capability he had, surprisingly. The most he could do was make it move a little.

    "By the way, I'm named Manduro," he told her with a snicker, his voice sounding awfully close. That was because he was standing right behind her.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    The witch's reaction was delightful. Much to his disappointment, however, she didn't punch him like she intended to. Manduro was a glutton for pain, but he was also interested to see just how strong she was. One could be surprised at how physically vulnerable he was. Like any magic wielder, he had a hard time standing up against fist fights. Since she was magical herself, it was very possible she could break through his barriers.

    Manduro studied her as she stepped backwards, expressing the horror upon connecting his name to a buried memory. By now, he would have launched another attack. Something stopped him, though. There was a familiarity between them, especially when he fixed his gaze on those electric green eyes of hers. There was suddenly a flash of images in his mind, all replaying times of his childhood and teenage years. The one that stood out the most was of a young lady with golden hair and a smile that could light up any room. He was supposed to meet her at the lake not too far from their village, so they could spend quality time together amongst the calm breeze, friendly fireflies, and tuneful swallows. That was their plan, since she wasn't allowed to attend his coming of age ceremony.

    He planned to kiss her that evening, too. Sadly, he failed to meet her at the spot he promised. On his way there, he was stopped by his superiors and locked away for practicing his dark magic on his opponent in the ceremony. There was just no escaping the Elders when they were in their element. At the time, he wasn't nearly strong enough to stand up to them.

    The warlock suppressed the memories as best he could, his focus on the present returning. No one ever triggered that in him before. Without a doubt, she was that girl he grew up falling in love with. He wanted her to run away with him, but that was made impossible...

    "Well, they lied to you," he replied coldly. "I did not fail anything. I was banished, though. Clearly, they covered that up with a fake story." Disgusted by this, he made a scowl at the litter of bodies before looking at her again. He took a few steps closer to her, then swung his staff at her shins to try and make her fall over.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    When Tria brought up the murder of children, he just shrugged his shoulders and whispered the words: "Oh well." Obviously, he felt no remorse for taking the lives of the innocent. The years he lived in solitude had been harsh enough that he came to resent all living creatures he couldn't control. Every pieces of his heart was black. At least, he thought so... It appeared he still had a shred of humanity left, seeing that he couldn't outright kill this girl as fast as he hoped he would.

    Manduro barked out a curse when the dry soil was thrown into his eyes. His hood slipped from his head while he rubbed at them, fully revealing what was hidden in it. Surprisingly, he maintained a handsome facial image. His face was very youthful and flawless except for an ugly diagonal scar that slashed over his left cheek. It extended from the outer corner of his eye to his jaw, looking like the damage of a blade. His hair was short and colored a bluish black, making him look all the paler. The glowing in his eyes dimmed down, revealing normal looking ones with purple irises surrounded by redness from irritation of the dirt.

    Gritting his teeth in anger, he made a growl and started pursuing her. His vision wasn't perfect, but he could see where she was headed since the fog was clearing up. The sounds of her clumsy footsteps made it even easier. At the sound of her tripping over a dead body and falling, he picked up his pace until he reached her.

    "You'll learn to love the new me!" Manduro told her with a twisted smile. He didn't entirely mean it, though he did wish it. Reaching down, he took a fistful of the fabric of her hood and dragged her through the wasteland he created until the air was clearer. At the moment was when he'd let go of her and pin her down with the butt of his magical weapon.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    The harsh words she blurted out at him didn't sting like he thought they would. Manduro thought with grim amusement that he was resistant to most emotional attacks. It was a useful, yet unfortunate factor. He could hardly be considered human anymore. When he took an interest in dark magics, he basically sacrificed his soul to it.

    Looking down at Tria, he pondered on where to go from here. The fight was over; that much he knew. She seemed too overcome by trauma and injury to really do much else, however her strong spirit still survived. Remembering the girl he once knew, that wasn't a shock to him. One of her qualities he most admired was her strength in her beliefs, and the people she loved.

    Manduro sighed a pair of words that would activate another spell, except this one was mostly harmless. The demonic looking skull atop his staff opened its mouth, and then released a light blue colored mist that twinkled in light of the setting sun. What he cast was a sleep spell that once she inhaled, would put her into a deep state of rest for a few hours. With her knocked out, he could tow her from here and decide what to do with her in a more peaceful environment.

    Watching the sparkles sink towards her face, he enforced the hold of his staff that was keeping her on the ground. "Whatever you say, Tria... Whatever you say."
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Silently, Manduro watched her final struggles. Before too long, she was in the arms of sleep. He was distracted by her face for a moment, finding the sight of it breath taking because of how... Angelic it looked. The last time he saw her, they were maturing adolescents still. Now, here she was, beautiful as ever. The years were good to her image, however he sensed disturbances within her mentality. Perhaps, having to live without him caused her some level of depression? He didn't know. If it wasn't that, then it was the severe damage he caused to their families today.

    The staff he carried was slipped into a sheath he made himself, specifically for his weapon. No other would be able to fit in it. He secured the staff on his back, then squatted down to the witch so she could be carried away. Manduro couldn't help himself as he ran his cold fingers along a side of his face, then the shape of her body. Needless to say, he had no shame in the dirty ways he behaved.

    With the lightweight girl in his arms, he closed his eyes halfway and imagined a new location. After a few moments, they vanished from where they stood and arrived at a town he had visited before. It was far from where he had his killing spree, so he suddenly felt exhausted because of how much energy it took to use the teleportation spell.

    Looking around, he noticed how quiet the area was. Nighttime had fallen, so the townsfolk were getting ready to have supper, then sleep. Manduro located a favored inn of his, paid the fee for a room, and began carrying his long lost beloved towards the space assigned to him. Beforehand, he requested that the inn keeper ask no questions.

    The next hour or two was spent on gettng Tria situated. He got her wounds cleaned up and patched, but didn't allow the full experience of comfort. For his safety, and her own, he bound her wrists together tightly with some rope. He also tied an ankle to each bedpost, but left enough slack so that she could bend her knees still. As well, he stripped her of any and all vials he found on her person. He did a thorough search that even involved removing her blood stained shirt, which he had no complaints about. Luckily for her, he decided to replace it with one of his spare shirts instead of violating her exposed chest. The top was large on her, but it would suffice. It at least kept her covered up.

    All of her belongings were stashed onto a chair that was far out of her reach. Now all he had to do was wait for her to wake up. During the wait, he sat on the mattress nearby her, scribbling down some words into a book he had. It was his personal journal. Manduro had a lot to write about tonight...

    Her sleep was slow and long. As the time passed, the spell waning, she gained a little bit of thought, a single part of her brain awakening a little at a time. It was primal, emotions potent enough to make her entire psyche shake with them.

    I will kill him! Anger.

    Manduro's Alive! Joy

    He is dead.
    Determination.

    Children died today. Sadness.

    Why am I not dead? Curiosity.

    At each thought, her mind woke more. Her thoughts became more pointed, deeper, less primal. Why had he been taken and thrown out? How could the young man that she knew have turned so bad?

    Her mental fingers brushed out as she kept her body as peaceful as she could as she slowly started to awaken to the feelings around her. She was bound, ankles and wrists. There was something wrong too. She was alive--that wasn't what was wrong though. There was something else. She could feel her charms across the room, far out of her magical and physical reach, even if she wasn't bound. Her leg was bandaged but was far from being healed.

    There! That was what was wrong. The fabric against her skin was different, wrong, baggy.

    Her eyes snapped open and looked down. It wasn't her shirt. Her gaze snapped up to the man that had changed her shirt on her. "By the elements, you undressed me!" she snapped, pure rage filling her. "How dare you! You are so dead Manduro! I can't believe you undressed me. Oh I'll kill you Manduro. I'll kill you so bad that you'll wish you were one of the ones from the village!" No man had ever seen her naked before. No one actually except her parents and even then that had been necessary. She had kept every man away and kept her pride. Oh her pride was hurt and she was pissed about it. She would make him pay.
     
  4. Manduro was silent during the witch's conniption. He showed how much he didn't care by putting most of his attention into his fingernails. Using a little shard of metal he found, he scraped dirt from beneath each one. Needless to say, there was no blood mixed with the nail filth. He didn't have to use his hands at all during his homicidal crime. That pleased him.

    "I hope you're feeling better," he replied, with no interest in her threats whatsoever. Making her angry was proving to be fun, though. There was an adoring youthfulness to the way her mean faces looked, and when she used a tougher voice he felt a chill go up his spine. This girl was way more delightful that he remembered.

    It was true, she was tied up and he saw her bare form. However, it was all done with good intention. He did patch up her leg, after all. Manduro didn't doubt she knew healing spells to fix that, but that was useless during her slumber, obviously. Plus, he felt it necessary to replace the clothing of hers that he effectively ruined. "Also, a thank you wouldn't hurt you, would it?"

    The warlock grinned at her and flicked away the piece of metal, which pinged gently on the wooden floor.
     
  5. A thank you? After all he had done? After he had killed their families and then looked at her unclothed? How dare the arrogant man assume she would thank him for anything!

    A growl deep in her throat threatened to make her even more feral than she already was at the way he was treating her. "Thank you's must be earned for doing a good deed. As your mother you have said if she had heard you just now. No, you won't get a single, blasted thank you from my lips even if you were to torture me. You first threaten to kill me, then kidnap me, then undress me without consent and to top it off you demand a thank you for that. Would you thank such a-a-a creature for I don't even think you are human any more!"

    She was cooling down as her rant progressed. Well, logically she was. Emotionally she was still angry amd determined not to rejoice in the fact that he was alive. To do so was to say all that had died did not matter.
     
  6. "Things could be worse!" Manduro's lips showed a twisted smile. That was a phrase full of false optimism, he always thought. It made speaking it all the more fun when he was toying with others. Nothing that she said was getting to him, as much as she wished it. There was an emotional barrier hiding his old self that would take a lot of time and dedication to shatter. Manduro doubted he could be changed for any reason.

    Truthfully, he didn't know where to go from here. This evening was not what he planned... He was stuck here with this woman, who was raging at him like a starving predator. Perhaps, he should have silenced her voice along with binding her to the bed. Oh well. Manduro didn't think this through, and he didn't care. He had the upper hand either way.

    The warlock turned away from her then, his eyes locking onto the curtains covering the window of the room. All was dark. They could see each other just because there was a lit candle on the dresser at the other side of the room. "Also, keep quiet. I won't hesitate to burn this establishment, then this town, to the ground if you won't."

    The way he spoke that was with such dismissed emotion and tiredness, as if killing was a daily chore for him. After that, he walked over to the second bed, where he decided to sit and unwind.
     
  7. The woman had been about to continue her rant at him over how he treated her and how inhuman he was when he threatened her. Her mouth was left hanging open as she stared after him. She snapped it shut after a moment, jutting her chin out defiantly before she tried to sit up so that she could look at her surroundings better. It took her several times but eventually she was able to sit up and look at her leg and the bandage and then over at the chair with her belongings and then over at him.

    For ten whole minutes she stared at him, trying to explain away the dark energy that surrounded him, to explain why the elders had lied and said he'd died in a freak accident. She didn't blink, didn't move, simply stared. After that though she couldn't help it. She was not a woman that could hold still next to another and not speak. Were she alone she would have been quiet and content, but when so many questions laid unanswered, it was hard for her to not speak.

    "Why did you kill them?" she finally asked, her voice soft, inquiring yet trying not to get too emotionally involved with it. "Why did, if killing the whole village was your plan, did you not kill me when you had the chance? Hell, Manduro, you still have the chance with me tied up and with no way of getting to my charms. Why do you keep me here if our whole clan was worthy of being killed." Her words remained sad, searching him for any reason to the madness he seemed to have acquired in the days since he'd di--been forced to leave.
     
  8. The long silence they shared was broken by her questions. Manduro didn't expect her to stay wordless for too long. On the upside, she was keeping her voice at a low level. He'd hate having to deal with the employees here because of a 'disturbance' happening upstairs. The warlock looked down at his lap, pondering what all she said and asked. Having to recall these not-so-fond memories of his past wasn't pleasant.

    "They never gave me a chance. I had a taste of dark magic and when I used it against my opponent in the age ceremony, I was disqualified and exiled. I swear, I hardly knew better," he began to say, a sudden softness in his voice. There were trace remains of the person she once knew. "I hated everyone for it. Nobody stood up for me, not even my own parents."

    Gradually, his voice became bitter. He stared at his lap with a scowl, a hand clenching into a fist. "Eventually, I just let the darkness take me over. I became obsessed with killing the people who hurt me, so I did.

    You are alive, Tria, because I want you to be. That's all I'm going to say."


    Manduro laid back against his bed, slipping his arms out of his fine robe in the process. He sat there in a simple cream colored tunic and a pair of brown pants, his arms folding over his chest.
     
  9. She watched him carefully as he spoke before the young woman looked away and then rested back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. She twisted her body as much as she could so that she had her back to the wall, facing out towards the second bed and the rest of the room. "You could have come to me. I would have stood up for you," she told him carefully. She would not become too emotionally involved in this. She couldn't if she planned to revenge their clan. If she did then she would never be able to look in the face of Manduro and kill him for them that had had no chance.

    Had she not been spelled to sleep earlier she would have most like fallen asleep after the lull in the conversation, instead she lay there in some semblance of peace, mentally reaching out to her bonds to work at the ropes. Manduro wasn't the only one that had learned a great deal during their time apart. She watched him, etching his figure into her minds eye as her magic slowly worked on the bindings on her feet making the rope loosen just the tiniest bit so that if she shifted just right she might get her ankles out and thus her foot. If her leg hurt at all, she ignored it, too much concentration focused on the bigger of the two issues as she saw it.

    As she worked, she tried to imagine what he would have gone through but shied away from it. Eventually she figured she should speak or make him suspicious. "What are you going to do now? You've killed our clan. You are holding me hostage against my will. Sounds like you got what you wished for," she said.
     
  10. When she said he could have gone to her for support, he made a wry laugh. He would have if he was allowed to. The moment they witnessed his display of dark magic, they locked him up and forced him out. There was no chance for him to get help. The laws were unfair in the ways they supposedly protected everyone. Manduro felt glad they were gone now.

    Reaching out for his staff, he laid it across his lap and smoothed his fingers along the decorative skull at the top of it. Whenever he touched it, magic users could easily sense the growth of power he had. In a way, his weapon was like another person. It housed a soul he became one with, and so the staff he crafted became his most important possession.

    "What I plan to do from here is none of your business," he replied coldly, his glowing gaze focusing on the craftsmanship of his staff. With the way he answered though, it was easy to assume his intentions weren't good ones. Manduro had many ambitions that became achievements. There was just one left that would give him immortality and control over a grand element.

    "You won't have to be my hostage for long. You're trapped here in man-made materials, not my magical bindings. So obviously you could escape, if you wanted. Just don't come near me, lest I punish you worse than I already have."

    Manduro warned her with a grimace. He hoped dearly that she wouldn't try anything. Deep down, he didn't want to injure her further. If she tempted him though, he'd have no choice. Holding his firm, domineering position was far more valuable right now.
     
  11. The woman stared at him for a few more moments before she slipped her feet out of the bindings and rose from the bed to look at him without any emotion. She could no more kill him now than she could have those years before when they had been friends. Quicker this time, she made the ropes on her wrists unwind and fall to the floor. Her leg was killing her just for standing, but she ignored it with a grit of teeth as she took a limping step forward.

    "What you plan does have something to do with me Manduro," she said with the sickly sweet tone she only used when she was planning on being the most stubborn mule born to the planet, she took another step forward until she was only a few feet away. "Because from here until the end of your life, I will stick by, very,very close so that I can remind you every day of the lives you took, innocent and not." She wobbled a little, leg protesting the extended use. She needed to sit down but she wasn't done. she had to make it extremely clear just how annoying she was going to be to him. "You will repent Manduro, one way or another."
     
  12. Manduro knew she was serious. He inwardly cringed as he watched her limp closer with that awful problem with her leg. The man himself could tolerate fairly high levels of pain. From all the abuse his magic and his own self put him through, he learned to turn it into something more... Friendly. This level of pain though, he admitted it was highly unpleasant. Part of him wished she'd sit back down.

    A moment was spent processing what all she said. During that time, he had a crooked crown on his face and an arched brow. "You're going to follow me everywhere to make sure I repent..." Manduro repeated her words aloud, just to clarify. That sounded like an obnoxious journey. At the same time, it appealed to him. The time she forced him to spend with her could become a secretive process of him getting her to join him in his evil pursuits. Manduro shamelessly used people for their special abilities. However, it would be even greater to taint that pretty innocent soul of hers... They could go down in history as the two remaining members of their clan, making chaos for the sake of making chaos.

    As a bonus, he'd have that lovely appearance of hers to stare at all the time. Manduro would be lying if he said he wouldn't ever try to seduce her, or take advantage of her in an emotional crisis.

    "You can try," he challenged nonchalantly, shrugging before looking back at his staff. The fact she might be annoying didn't bother him at the moment. It would in the future, but he had ways of solving that. Manduro wasn't the type to hesitate when hitting someone in the face just for irritating him.
     
  13. The woman smiled at the challenge. "I'll succeed Manduro-oooh crap," she started to say before she started to fall forward as her leg finally gave out. She stumbled forward and landed across his lap with a loud 'Ooph' sound. The woman was biting back tears, determined not to show the other man that his wound was hurting her so. Focusing so hard on the fact that she didn't want to cry, she didn't immediately push herself up off his lap, face buried in the blanket on the other side of his body.

    She couldn't slowly fight the man in the form that she was in at the moment. If he wanted, he could blast her to smithereens if he wanted. Hell, he had summoned a monster and made it vanish with a simple word. She would need power to make him repent. Oh and by the lords she would make him in one way or another. Giving a soft, shuddering sigh of pain, she slowly pushed herself up, averting her gaze, only to have it land on the staff that he had had on his lap. It made her shiver just looking at it.
     
  14. Manduro froze up when she lost strength in her legs and ended up falling onto his lap. His hands gripped at his staff tightly, helping him to hold back any impulses. At any time, he could have either struck her out of anger or take hold of her in a seductive attempt. Those possibilities confused the warlock. He hated her right now, but at the same time...he didn't. That bit of contact ignited something in him that he was honestly afraid of. Thankfully, when she moved off of him, those feelings were buried underneath the layers of darkness within him.

    This was pathetic, he thought. She was in no condition to fight him, let alone follow him everywhere. Not only was she injured, she was traumatized. He could hardly believe it took this long for her to finally breakdown a little. Manduro knew she was exhausting herself with the stoic looks, and the tough talk.

    Glancing at her, he noticed she was staring at his staff. He guessed it spooked her at least a little bit. That was its job, aside from adding to his magical abilities. He smiled a little as he set it down beside him to lean against the nightstand. Before completely taking his hands off of it, the eyes of the skull seemed to glow. Then, it opened its mouth to drop a trinket into Manduro's open palms.

    The item looked to be a stone figure who stood on two legs like a person. It overall had a bulky human shape with shackles around its wrists and ankles, all with chains to connect them. Obviously, it was a prisoner of some kind who served the warlock. The little golem came to life, its eyes glowing with that same purple as Manduro's. Since she was within reach, and not going anywhere, he felt he might as well make his propositions...

    "Since you've chosen to follow me everywhere, there are some... Conditions. If you don't like them, well tough luck." Manduro wanted to make it clear that he wouldn't be completely friendly with her during this long time they spend together. He felt the need to assert his dominance and be open to her challenges, to let her know he couldn't be frightened.

    "The first rule involves this little fellow," he began to say, petting his finger along the mini golem before signaling for it to approach Tria. It seemed to walk with ease, despite its heavy body and the prison shackles, but did carry itself with very heavy steps. It walked over to her hand, immediately taking hold of her ring finger and pinning it down by sitting over it. "He'll see to it that you won't try any funny business. If you do, my golem will alarm me. Sure, you can kill him to get rid of him, but that would mean smashing him to death as you would a regular rock. Magic won't work on them. Might I also add, he's innocent except for servicing me under my control. Such stupid creatures."

    Manduro smirked, wondering how she'd respond.
     
  15. The little creature made Tria blink a few times before she cocked her head to the side and slipped from the bed so that she was at eye level with the creature. "Hello there," she said softly, fascination despite herself making her offer a hand to it slowly before curling her fist so that only one finger was held out for the creature to take in welcome.

    "You are a horrid man Manduro, enslaving such a creature. He's positively adorable," she purred purposefully as she smiled at the creature. There were very few creatures that got her to gush over them, but this small golem, while evil, was one of them. "I don't see why I wouldn't want to let him stick around. Does he speak?" She was glad that she found it so cute, for it made the situation seem more acceptable and also she had an easier time pretending as if Manduro and her had come to the decision together, and thus, it wasn't as domination by Manduro that was making her carry the creature with her.

    "And besides, I don't plan on magicking you into repentance. You'll do it without that kind of help from me. You'll do it because you want to," she said rather confidently.
     
  16. Manduro observed with an arched brow as she acquainted herself with the little minion of his. The golem seemed to enjoy her affectionate approach, his eyes glowing brighter to show it. The little creature didn't have the ability to speak, however he could communicate with different levels of grunting and motions with his fist that only the warlock could translate. The golem's language was unique, to say the least.

    After a while, the shackled golem laid back on the finger it was sitting on. The eyes made a flash and within a second, the little fellow was forming a ring around her finger. It appeared as a smooth surfaced rock curling around the digit, emitting the tiniest bit of warmth because the piece of jewlery was alive. Manduro smiled satisfyingly at the sight.

    "If you step out of line, that little one will trade places with you. The shackles will be transferred to your body, and then he will be freed from me," Manny explained briefly with a shrug, then a small yawn. The night was getting older and the tiredness of the day was catching up to him. The energy he sapped from his earlier summons could last only so long.

    Her claim that he would be forced to the side of purity without the persuasion of magic was ignored. The warlock didn't believe any word of it. He looked over at Tria again, still a little uncertain about how close by she was. It took all of his will to not snatch her up and share a night of ecstasy with her. There was more to it than being an impish man; he missed the woman.

    "Anyway, we're here for the night. So, go back to sleep or whatever..." he said with his voice trailing off, looking away from her with childish stubbornness.

    [Somehow, I mustered up the ability to write something for you. x3 Feel free to time skip to the morning or afternoon, or even a couple weeks later. I dun have a preference. Unless there's more you wanted to do on this evening. <3]
     
  17. [:DDD! Oooh~ Fluuuuufffy replied~ And no, I didn't have anything else planned for it. Thank you so much for the reply~ So perhaps a couple of days later after a day's full of travel or something?]

    Tria loved the little creature that seemed to take a liking to her because of the gentle nature she was using to persuade it to her side. As he all but dismissed her from his side, she stroked the ring that had cuffed itself to her finger. Stubbornly, almost as stubborn as he was being, she got up and limped back to the bed that she had been given. Well, that she had been dropped on. Instead of laying down however, she sat up, glaring over at him. After such a long time being spelled to sleep she was in no way tired. Or so she thought. After no more than thirthy minutes she dozed off, sitting there with her head drooped, legs out in front of her, hands resting limply next to her.

    Two weeks later, in her mind, things had not gotten any better. Place after place they went, him doing his evil things, she trying to counter act them or spoil his fun as best as she could. She was growing tired however and due tot he fact that her leg was still not completely healed was making it hard to keep up with him at times. Each night when they finally stopped she would list to him all the names of the dead that she could remember, starting and ending with children that he had never known and described how they had never hurt him until she ended up falling asleep from exhaustion.

    One such evening brought her to the family she had been saving for a day that she was particular annoyed. "Harrison, my younger brother, born two years after you left. You would have liked him Mand. He was strong, learning the craft as fast as you and I did when we were kids. Haley, his twin. James, my father. Helena my mother. What did they do hm? What did my younger siblings do to anger you? They didn't even know you." Her voice cracked as she glared at the man. "You could have let them go."
     
  18. Traveling with Tria proved to be irritating, but not totally hated. She did her best to inject him with guilt by listing names of people he once knew, and also never knew, who he killed. Already, that was getting old for him. Those fellow clan members didn't mean anything to him then and they certainly didn't now. The darkness in his heart swallowed him whole, disabling the emotion of sympathy. In fact, he caught himself snickering at times for what destruction he caused. That massacre was the best day of his life.

    The two of them were on a stretch of dirt path when she began listing members of her family that he murdered. Manduro wasn't listening to her very closely. His eyes were focused on the road ahead and his mind so immaturely tuned her out. All he heard were a few words, but he got the gist of it. She would have liked him to at least spare her family, from what he understood.

    "What do you want me to do about it, Tria? Bring them back from the dead? I can do that, you know. But they'd fall apart after a limited amount of time and they'd be mindless corpses ready to kill everything I tell them to." Manduro gave her an annoyed look, his pace slowing when he noticed she still limped when she walked. "Also, don't you know healing magic or something? Gods, that will never heal, otherwise. Unless we stop walking for who knows how long!"

    The warlock threw his hands up in the air with his last few words, as if he were silently cursing the skies. He could heal him herself, if he wanted to. The idea of it didn't appeal to him, though. He'd be doing it for free, out of the kindness of his heart. That wasn't how he worked. She'd need to give back to him.

    "Now I suggest you hush so we can get to the next town safely. This is one of those 'travel at your own risk' paths, you know. It'll be crawling with predators and bandits when it's dark, which I can handle, but I'm not. in. the mood."
     
  19. The woman came to a stop when he challenged her about the paths. "Talking isn't going to slow us," she snapped as she limped after him again. "And for the record, yes I know it, and no I won't use it. With you, I need to save all the magic I have to heal those you have harmed as I follow you. You tear apart families for laughs and snickers Manduro! This isn't you. This isn't the you I knew! What happened to you that would make you change that much?"

    She regretted asking that the moment it came out of her lips. She'd asked several times but never gotten anywhere but to shutting the man down. Grinding her teeth against the stretching of burned skin she lengthened her stride and passed him with a soft hmph! It wasn't exactly like there was some way of losing him. Even if he teleported away from her, she would track him down even if she had to go days without sleep. "Nevermind. Blast it are you always this infuriating?"
     
  20. Manduro made a solemn look when she demanded to know what changed him. It was true, he wasn't always so vile. Before his banishment, he was an adored member of the clan with plenty of talent to share. Telling her what exactly happened to him wouldn't be easy. Especially right now when they needed to focus on getting to shelter... Opening up wasn't exactly his strength, either.

    To her childish 'hmph', he rolled his eyes and continued forward. With his staff firmly in hand, he walked at a steady pace more for her sake than his own. The warlock even kept himself close to her side in case she'd need to collapse against him for support. Kindness was a disgusting virtue, but he had a small soft spot for the stubborn girl. The years they lived without each other preserved a morsel of humanity, he realized. Solitude wasn't always a horrible thing...

    As they journeyed on, he became more alert of their surroundings. Everything, even the trees, gained a creepier appearance in the approaching darkness. Manduro recognized this acre of land to be magical. There had been spooky stories about people getting lost and then murdered around these parts, or turned into a servant to the existing curse. None of it frightened him, of course. In fact, it felt like a home.

    Mysterious eyes watched the two, wary because the both of them had magical capabilities. Some might be imbecilic enough to attack them, which he was more than ready for. "Tread with caution," he warned Tria in a serious tone, clearly focused on their security.