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Meanwhile, in Triskellian...

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  • #16
    Narrows

    Slipping from her leggings the beast oozed into the bathing pool, a long deserved break from Triskellian. She plunged herself into the water, the temporary ochre flowing from her fur, revealing her stark white form. She had been away from THree Corners now for too long, and the recent events that had driven her here were as good a reason to relax as any. She lathered her fur , methodically working the soap into her skin. She dipped herself back, lifting her head from the pool and glancing around. Something was wrong.
    The few the proud..the town guard? Korl hadnt signed on to raid the dressing rooms of inn guests , he couldnt believe he was so low on the chain to just have to give in to the captains wishes. He should have quit, but no. As he lifted hs large gloved paw to the door he curled his large fingers into themselves. He reared back and brought the hammer of an appendage down hard on the door's lock, it flung wide. He stalked in flanked by several of the other guards as the scattered into the heavily shrouded room. The steam and incense was overpowering and he could just barely make out the other men let alone the supposed troublemaker. His eyes continue to skim, and suddenly he catches a glimpse, a flash of white in the background, something strangely familiar, something dangerously familiar about the shape, the woman was fast, and he rushed, but to no avail. He pushed his head out the window to see the nude white form dashing down the street, and into the narrows.

    "Great" He muttered, knowing full well when people enter the narrows, theyre either familiar, and wont be found...or theyre not familiar..and will be found in the morning...in the gutter. But there was something else..something ...wrong.

    Rushing for the window as the door crashed in she grabbed a single bag, the only bag that could link her to her normal life. She was certain as she bounced through the window, that she could lose themn in the narrows. Two steps, then a drop, she landed and rolls to her feet, her already broken ribs twanging with familiar pain. She then bound down the street and into the narrows, her feet knew the way, and she was quickly lost in the tangle of streets. She scrambled up the side of a nearby shop and pushed her way into the open window. Here she dressed and went through her things, a deep frown forming over her lips. She'd left her dye and her mask, she was completely revealed She had to make her way back to Triskellian quickly, she could at least return to those who knew her, and with luck, that hulking beast of a wolf guard wouldnt track her any further than he had to.

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    • #17
      Melodies and Mirrors.

      As she slid her fingers through her hair, she hummed a familiar melody, something she remembered being sung to her as a child. The tune to this melody tickled her curious side over the years for this melody was a sweet, soft, and happy one and nothing about her childhood seemed to match with it. Did someone once love her as a child? Before she had found her new family,was there someone else? Who knew, and honestly, who cared. Madalina was growing older in each day, even if she appeared close to that of a newly grown young woman. The past was now too distant to bother with, and the future wasn't promised. A lesson she learned late in life.............. Her fingers continue to snake through her beautiful black locks, the hairbrush following afterward. The tune floated around her empty room, kissing the walls before returning to her own ears. She thought about her home, the family that found her and took her as their own, and how much she missed them. Daddy's ship had already returned home, his people tired of wasting time on her, which she understood. Half of Madalina's heart loathed the idea of not returning home on that vessel, but the other half knew she was now a mother, and was soon re-marrying the child's father. The rational part of her knew that she had responsibilities, and the sea was no place for such a young child. As well as that, Madalina couldn't bare the idea of leaving him again, finally they would fix what went wrong, and have the beautiful family she had once dreamed of. The sea would remain there, grazing the edges of her heart ....
      Madalina Blue and Saruno

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      • #18
        I wrap my arms and my tail around my torso trying to keep warm but I'm freezing and I think I might be dead. I watch from the trees as the horizon turns from yellow to orange, to red and then stars. The black smoke rises, it can be seen from miles away. I hear a gunshot from far within the burning embers, a furious silence follows and I realize I must be dreaming.

        My eyes are open now, and I can feel the burning in my leg. I try, but I can't remember what it's like to be free of the pain. I keep my body still except for my eyes searching the room for relief. I spot my flask of whiskey as i slide my tongue across my dry and chewed lips. I prepare to get up from my bed, I reach for it and I wonder how long I could wait for Harken to come and help me, but then I feel the shame of not being able to do these things on my own. I lock my teeth onto my lower lip and ignore my leg as much as I can. I zone out, and suddenly I am sitting on the bed, my feet flat on the floor and I can't find my cane...

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        • #19
          Gemma dragged the heavy curtains shut across her windows. The night had ended and dawn was breaking fresh upon the, so far, quiet dock-side town. An empty goblet, once full of rum, dropped from her hand and rattled across the cluttered floorboards.

          The evening had been a complete nightmare.

          She had sat silently throughout the ceremony; struggling against the sensation of her memories ramming themselves fruitlessly against this new boundary in her mind. It's as though there was a block there now - a lid kept firmly upon the simmering emotions that her past elicited.

          But what memories were they?

          Exhaling steadily through her lips, she composed herself. She struggled momentarily from the outfit she had been given to wear that night; it had been too tight, and she was unused - or so she thought - to having to wear anything to concealing. Soon it was a crumpled mess on the floor, merging in with the other things Gemma had discarded.

          She crawled achingly into her bed; the blankets were cold, reminding her that the small child, which she had been informed was hers, was still with the Nanny her friend had reccommended.

          Her hands wrapped themselves around a pillow and dragged it firmly over her head. She didn't want to think about the child, this... "Torin". She could not remember him, not even slightly. She was a stranger to the child she supposedly conceived, carried, and cast out into this world she also did not know.

          Vague noises of activity filtered through the curtains from outside and, exhausted, Gemma began to relax into her too-cold bed. She decided it were best if she slept off even a little of the rum she'd guzzled; if only so that she could tolerate waking in a few hours.

          It didn't take long for sleep to find her, and she drifted into a dreamless realm knowing that, all too soon, she would have to wake and face the world again.


          ((Piccy isn't mine, but I found it and I thought that it went perfectly with how I imagined Gem at the moment. All credits go to Alex Cockburn - you can find the artist on deviantart and furaffinity!))
          Last edited by Super_Gem; 10-24-2010, 02:12 AM.
          - - -
          You're in docktown. If you want respect you should be in Newtown.
          Presbyter Ximen pauses as he can't quite think of something to be angry at you for but by S'allumer does he want to be angry with you.

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          • #20
            And the dead will walk the earth...

            She couldn't understand the feelings that welled up inside of her each time she would see him. Comprehending the visions, the flashbacks that would enter her subconscious each night was almost impossible. She had yet to meet this other child she supposedly mothered. Ammy. Ammy and Therin. So far, Therin was an extremely vague memory. Did that mean she didn't love him enough? And Virendra. Quickly her feelings regarding him flooded her, drowning her every moment she laid eyes on him. Mostly, they were warm feelings, feelings that one should have with someone so 'close'. The warm feelings were grazed with feelings of resentment, and betrayal. She couldn't really recall much about their history, but she could -feel- all of it. Did that make any sense? ....................Maddy stood in front of the crowd, listening to the shrill screaming but not really -hearing- much of anything. Her lips trembling, her body shaking, she took another step forward. Closing the distance between herself and the rotting flesh in front of her, she refocused her glistening, golden eyes on Virendra. Death filled her nostrils, she could hardly breathe. But it wasn't the stench that took away her breath, it was the constant attack on her heart. Virendra held the woman in his arms, his lips lowering to hers as he repeated "I love you, Arima." .............Maddy reminded herself it was just an act, but his words penetrated the deepest fear in her soul. Every unfaithful act he had committed in the past now bore down on her heart, as the face of the dead bride slowly morphed... Replacing moldy, reeking flesh, was the face of every woman Virendra committed adultery with, one after another, beginning with her historical best-friend, Hush. Maddy repeated to herself ,"it's all just a show, she's dead, no worries.".....But then again she heard his voice through all the screaming ....", I love you......Arima."
            Madalina Blue and Saruno

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            • #21
              Perfect silence, it was always this way in the night lately. the beast stood alone, staring out at the horizon, watching the nearby sailors load and unload ships. Nothing to do no where to go, it was time for a drink

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              • #22
                Donovon huddled in the corner of the common area. None of the city folk understood him, and one who did only spoke broken low tongue. His rite or proving was going poorly and he was sick for home. His stomach growled as he peered out at the strangers , dressed in odd skins and gibbering at him in stranger tongues.

                His search for the glimmer was going well, but a wife and a victory were still far from his reach. His father would be most displeased, and the tribe will surely cast him out if he returns with nothing.

                He was sure the battle was near, ut he couldnt see it, he knew he would be killed if he hunted the wrong infidel.

                The Odd Wolf Redra Var was his only real spectator, most shy from him, but this wolf watches him, as though he were studying his ways. And Redra's woman Maedra seemed kind but there was some ach within her that Donovon couldnt place

                This was all bad, danger was near he could smell it, what was its name, what did it taste like. Was it as thick as blood or as sweet as the fruit he found tucked away in the foul smelling northern blocks.

                Perhaps fishing was in order, or perhaps he might be better suited as a cast out, the unclean...

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                • #23
                  Maedra, Phael Pria.

                  The words came to her almost fluently, and as if they were her own native tongue. She barely even recognized her own sentences, as they slipped through her lips ,
                  " Es Maedra Phael Pria."
                  The man called Daen'vn swept over her again with his penetrating blood-red eyes. Once more he bobbed his head, and responded ,
                  "Daen'vn ken scen' et Maedra Phael Pria."
                  She only smiled, wondering what he meant by his words. "My scent?," She asked herself. Maybe the lingering aroma of her daughter Ammilyah's scent still settled on her fur, though taking a bath or two everyday should have washed that away by now. How did he smell Phelan on her? She hadn't an idea.
                  "Redra Var ungren et Maedra?"
                  The man called Daen'vn shook his head at her, and pounded his chest with his fist once ,
                  "Redra Var ungren Daen'vn."
                  She forced a pathetic smile, hoping "Redra Var" would walk into the commons so they could settle their childish dispute. Madalina shifted uneasily, and refocused her attention on the word "Pria."
                  Madalina Blue and Saruno

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                  • #24
                    Hooligans.

                    Boss didn't look too happy, and thinking of herself in the situation, she probably wouldn't have been happy either. But being in her own shoes, she found the entire ordeal absolutely hilarious. Boss was in the middle of the center ring, glaring into the audience and demanding who filled the clown's water bucket with drey dung instead of actual water. Receiving a face full of drey dung instead of a bucket of water like one expected was a really fun prank..But, the prank was intended for the clown, not the Boss. Biggy Smalls the Clown had come down with the Sniffles earlier that afternoon, leaving Boss to fill his extra large red shoes. No one told Riff, so no saved Boss. Boss' screams penetrated more than just the center ring, they penetrated Riff's ears. Suddenly a stiffled giggle sounded off behind Riff. Riff didn't budge, without looking she already knew who crouched down behind her. "Quiet." Raff clamped her tiny hand over her light pink lips, choking out her hysterical laughter. Riff sighed ruefully, knowing it was probably best that the amazing "Riff~Raff" had left the circus once and for all.

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                    • #25
                      http://bernardintriskellian.weebly.com/stories1.html

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                      • #26
                        The last lights of the Solacia crawled through the distant gates of Chalon du Sauldre. Slowly the lights dispersed as groups separated and traveled into the darkness to seek rest stops and inns outside the city walls. The fire in the cold chamber at her back guttered as a cruel and bitter winter gust moaned down the chimney, sending sparks to flit across the flagstone floor before being extinguished by the frosty chill of the midnight air. She heard the bells chime the witching hour in the courtyard of Chateau Caché de la Montibella, each low, lonesome toll echoing through empty corridors and hallowed passages before finding their way to Theressa's ears, distorted and skewed by the darkness and wind. As if by some magic force, upon the last echo of the last tolling of the midnight hour, a particularly volatile gust of icy air roared down the chimney. Her small fire was no match for such a terrible blow and as the last embers lie dying, scattered across the floor, the distant city gates pulled themselves shut and the last small lights disappeared into the far off night. She shivered in the cold and withdrew from the window to seek her bedside for midnight's prayer vigil. She tried to clear her mind and sink into her familiar prayers but the guilt, pain and loneliness weighed heavy on her heart. Her fingertips sought her well-worn rosary as her lips moved in prayer and in the small, feeble light of her candle, a single tear escaped unbidden to fall from her cheek. She had been in this place of her childhood for eight torturous months and still she could not break free. She clutched her rosary tighter and began her prayers anew. She could not in good faith continue her prayers when her heart was not engaged in the effort, but it pained her greatly to tear her thoughts from his smile.
                        Mother Theressa de la Montibella
                        Prelate of the Church of S'Allumer

                        "Le travail éloigne de nous trois grands maux: L'ennui, le vice et le besoin."
                        Work steers us away from three great evils: Trouble, vice and need.

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                        • #27
                          Moved...

                          [Moved to Calabria Chat as this appears to be In-Character side stories and add flavor to the game.]
                          ~StoryHost Death

                          Death@Ironclaw.Skotos.net
                          Dragon Pieces

                          Originally posted by Plato
                          Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws.

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                          • #28
                            Damn Pigeons...

                            A plump pigeon ditzily flutters over to him and lands on his shoulder, clutching a sealed envelope in its mouth. He smiles and pats the bird as if it were a companion. He retrieves the letter from the pigeons mouth and opens it. As he attempts to read the letter, he realizes it is written in an entirely different language. The pigeon gives him a mocking look before fluttering off into the sky.

                            Virendra sits up on his bed in the jail's bunkhouse, peering about the area before rubbing his forehead and collapsing back onto the bunk with an exasperated sigh, "Damn pigeons won't stop taunting me, not even in my sleep." He turns on his bed, grumbling, "I just wish they would finish with this punishment already so I could leave this town behind me."

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                            • #29
                              Omen stood lax against the mast, peering out over the still, frigid water. The ship was silent, everyone out, mingling in port. The scent of spiced meat and smoldering hearths wafting over the bay. She could feel it, the longing. Even a few days on land seems like an eternity to her now. Thumbing through her book lackadaisically, mostly stopping to quirk a brow at various depictions and the odd stain here and there. She wondered more and more if it mattered to her crew, her wanderlust, her whimsical nature. Or the "gut" reactions, the feelings, the strange breaks in conversation, or blank stares. They came more and more frequent now. And the headaches. The blinding pain, the screams in the night, waking up in a cold sweat, to wander in half-waking numbness. Fully waking up, only after she had already made it half way across the city. Tonight it was in the Tavern...why.
                              She minced casually across the deck, resting her elbows on the railing, peering down into the water.
                              -tick tack-
                              She glimpsed aside, one eye narrowing at the oddity, a thrush in the water
                              - tick tack-

                              Straightening she slowly neared the ladder leading into the hold.

                              -Clank tick tack-

                              Slipping down the ladder and into the hold she made quick step towad the brig, deciding to check on her "Prisoner"

                              -Click Click!-

                              Omens eyes widened as the first round exploded from the tiny pistol, evidently hidden in his cane. Why had she let him keep it.

                              She reeled back and stumbled aside, bringing her blunderbuss level with the heavy iron bars of the cell.

                              No, not Fev...someone else.

                              -Tick Tack- Says the shadow and the echo from the corner behind Omen spins her about.
                              -Ricktik tac'tchk tk- Responds the second shadow.

                              She glimpsed down at her boots, just before the world went dark.

                              So much blood on the floor.

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                              • #30
                                Slipping Around

                                Through the back alleys of Newtown, she slipped from shadow to shadow. The noble was on the next street over; she could just hear the tinkling of the bells on his palfrey's reins. Smirking with amusement at nobles' eccentric ways, the little assassin-in-training slipped closer to the alley's entrance.

                                "See to my palfrey, man," the nobleman was telling a hunched fox, handing over the reins and storming off into his dwelling. The servant obviously didn't have any desire to care for his mount, but sighed and started leading it to the stable anyway.

                                "I'll take care of him," the stealthy one said as she stepped out. "I'm sorry I was slow in following m'Lord. He doesn't care about us little folk, eh?" Thank goodness she had taken the time to find the stash of servant's livery. She was dressed just like Lord Meric's actual servant.

                                Without a word, the manservant nodded and slipped away to whatever he had to do. The assassin apprentice tuged on the palfrey's reins and wandered off to the stable.

                                **

                                Unloading the Lord's saddlebags, she found a flask of brandy (which she added a tiny bit of ground mistletoe berry to), a grooming kit (she pulled a few stray hairs out of the brush), and a few missives from other members of House Rinaldi. Jackpot! Stuffing the missives in her sack, she oiled the palfrey's scales and gave him some water before scurrying back into the shadows. Mission complete.

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