Three Spirits without Drink [Quest] | RE - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: Three Spirits without Drink [Quest] | RE (/showthread.php?tid=1166) |
Three Spirits without Drink [Quest] | RE - Official - 08-12-2012 Riekahn March 5th, 2012 at 12:51am Riekahn moved into the marshlands quietly, though he had trouble muffling the massive steps. That witch of a god wanted him to serve the deeds of three dead spirits in this marsh, and he would to get what he wanted. Then, he would force their bones to rise and serve him! A fair trade. One of his back legs sank too far, and he groaned as he jerked it back up, straining the thick muscle in his haunches. With a grunt of frustration and irritation, he shook his massive neck and continued, more careful of where he stepped. Still, his sheer mass and size were his undoing. He sank at least four inches, even when he stepped on the more solid ground. "Spirits!" he called. "I come offering three of you peace in your afterlife. I will do for each of you three a task." Even though the sun was high overhead, darkness pervaded the marsh. Vines, thick with mold, hung heavily on trees. Shadows seemed more... alive. Random Event March 5th, 2012 at 11:48am The undead forms of the Spectral Marsh writhe underneath the water as you approach. They hear the loud, powerful steps, and feel the cruelty surrounding heartbeat in your chest. One of them pulls through the muck to claw weakly at your legs, finding his opponent too strong to pull in with such atrophied limbs. He shudders back into the slumber, for easier prey than you. Your words echo over the waters, but no soul of the dead comes to greet and accept your offer. The three tasks, as it turns out, were not the real test after all. The Moon Goddess was hooting with laughter at your failed attempt to gain an audience. How can you gain the attention of the dead, Riekahn? Riekahn March 5th, 2012 at 3:15pm Nothing stirred, and a distinct echo of laughter made the stallion's teeth curl. He would not give his life for these dead spirits, but perhaps he needed to try a different approach. Often, he had heard whispers of terrifying tales where the dead lit lanterns to draw the living into their snares. Perhaps it worked the other way as well. The great stallion found a solid patch of ground and let his body come to rest on the ground. He curled his legs beneath his body and examined the murky surface of the water. In a dark, evil manner, he lit fires with his breath around his body, a perfect circle. Lines of scorched earth formed between them, making a ring, a pattern, an offering. Fire burning in his crimson eyes, and he began to hum deeply, the sound resonating in his chest and vibrating in the ground. The flames flickered and shook in response, dancing, taunting. One with the shadows, hidden from the cruel brightness of the sun's judgment, Riekahn called to the spirits of the dead. In that moment, he was almost glorious, unselfish. Still, the dark shadow where his heart should have been pulsed and shifted in his soul, sinking into his very veins and laying on his mind. This darkness was peaceful. He was at peace. "O'Death..." he hummed. "When God is gone and the devil takes hold, who'll have mercy on your soul? O' Death..." The deep tenor of his voice shook his rips, dancing between the sinews of his mortal flesh. Random Event March 5th, 2012 at 3:38pm The fire shocks and stirs the bodies laying in the murky waters around you, they writhe in fear and cower from such a thing. You can hear moans permeating the quiet stillness of the glassy surface, and some of the corpses float desperately to quieter places in the marsh. One such a body, however, rises to greet you. A full grown horse bleached white with time, though with soggy wings, lacking half of their feathers, lopping off the sides of its back, motionless and dead. The skeleton is visible, pushing through on the sides of his rump and clearly visible in his broad chest and legs. Still, the face, covered in a thin layer of skin, looks at you with interest. The eyes, long since rotted from his skull, open to empty sockets, black and foreboding. Along his barrel is a gaping wound, the cause of his death. Upon his high head is a rusted metal helmet, traces of royal engravings in the sides. The dead pegasus before you was a warrior. He is moved by your strong words and fire, and steps into your circle of light. The stench of death and old flesh surrounds you, but your first task is at hand. He had heard your original offer, the offer of closure. “I cannot sleep without a light,” he says, his black holes boring into you. “Bring me a light which will not snuff out in the water.” How odd that even in death, this massive warrior requires a nightlight to sleep properly. Riekahn March 5th, 2012 at 5:53pm Riekahn watched as the waters began to stir, crooked, twisted and desperate faces peeking from the murky waters. One brave soul managed to surface, soppy water dripping steadily from his body. The white of his coat was rotted, and bones were visible beneath the moldy skin. A slime that stunk of decaying flesh and murk reached his nostrils, but the bones were obviously wrought with gaping wounds. Feathers, sickly feathers on bony wings hung uselessly at its side, and Riekahn found the creature to be remarkably pathetic. The once proud warrior sunken in the earth. Oh how the mighty have fallen, and he wanted a light in the water. The stallion nodded once, tersely. He remembered once the pull the light had on him before he shut it out of his soul. "I will, warrior," he replied. The mortal stallion looked around where he sat and grabbed a crystalline rock in his lips. With a grunt, he opened his mouth and breathed fire over the stone until it glowed white hot, absorbing the light. When he let up his breath, the stone remained glowing, and he tested it by pushing it with his hoof into the water. It fizzled and hissed, but as it dropped, it remained bright. He looked up at the dead creature. "May it help you sleep peacefully," he said. Until I summon you from your slumber, you fool. Random Event March 5th, 2012 at 8:59pm The warrior watches you as you pick up the rock, thin muscles taut in confusion as you crunch it in your jaws. He sees the glowing begin to form in the rock, and becomes intensely interested. A few steps closer comes the decaying corpse, wings dragging on the thick waters. When you finally drop the stone below, his hollowed eyes follow it in anticipation. He is extremely excited to note that the light remains, though dimmed from its almost blinding state. The pegasus smiles at you in thanks, rotted teeth greeting you with a rancid odor. He leans down to clutch the stone between those same teeth before slinking into the waters, never to appear on the surface again. His soul will finally be able to get the rest that it deserves. Watching with curious eyes is another undead, her face barely lifted above the surface of the waters. After the body of the pegasus warrior returns to his grave, hers rises. The body is less aged, most of the flesh still intact. Her color is lightened, though it is obvious that at one time she had held the color of a bright red chestnut. From her forehead protrudes a proud bone of snow white - one of your kind. Her body is weak, more emaciated than lithe, but at one point in time, you could see her being potentially beautiful. Her eyes, still in her skull, are clouded, the sclera a vile tint of green. She stares at you for a moment before her mouth opens, a voice barely audible, even in the silence of the marshes. “Water,” she calls, a look of desperation on her features. “Please, bring the freshest water to drink. I am so, so thirsty.” Riekahn March 7th, 2012 at 8:38pm Riekahn nodded as the warrior retreated into the murk. Soon, his form was replaced by a putrefied female. She had more skin and her eyes were intact, covered in a grotesque green film. He wondered why she had died so young. When she asked for water, the stallion wanted to grumble in complaint. Instead, he pushed his massive body from the ground and nodded to her. "I will return," he replied, walking to the edge of the marsh. A small brook bubbled nearby, and he drank himself before looked around, thinking of how to contain the water. Then, he found a scooped out rock and lifted it with his teeth. He dipped it in the fresh water and brought it back into the marsh. Carefully, he lowered the water on the bank next to the rotted mare. "If you require more, I will bring more," he replied stoically. Random Event March 8th, 2012 at 4:03pm The fallen unicorn stands still, her body motionless like the death she seeks. Her eyes watch your dark form move to the edge of the swamp and disappear from her impaired vision. Patiently, she waits, hopeful that you will be able to ease the dryness in her throat that had been present since before her untimely death. Her green eyes catch the movement of your body faintly upon your return, and she smiles, the thin skin creasing gruesomely, as you offer her the water she requested. She gulps the fresh liquid, her eyes dimming as the water fills her dead body, but she does not seem to hear your offer to go for more. Instead, her voice, now strengthened by the moisture in her previously parched throat, is a booming sound of prideful femininity. “Thank you, Riekahn of the Shadows,” she says, her body collapsing into the water below, seemingly to disappear from your eyes. You might realize that you had not given your name. The dead know you, stallion, and know of your previously horrible deeds. They are written in the movements of your body and the darkness in your heart. A third figure begins to rise, a towering body. This one is not decorated with a horn nor wings, but is the final species of this land - and equine. His impressive stature is bigger than the previous two, his water bloated form taller than even you. His form is also the most intact, his eyes still very clear, though the irises have long since gained a white cloud. His color is obvious, a buckskin stallion, thick broad stripping. There are also markings upon his frame that are unfamiliar, not the natural markings of a horse. These are black markings of a narrative sort. Primitive brushstrokes telling a tale you do not know sweep across his barrel, a story that tells of nature. “Your tasks thus far have been simple,” he says, his voice surprisingly quiet despite his large frame. “Your next one will not be as such.” The mysterious equine looks at you, his black mane pooled in dreadlocked mats on his face and neck. There seem to be objects twisted in those locks, though you cannot quite figure what they might be. “You have shown ingenuity and compassion for the fallen, but you have not yet proved that you possess other skills that would make you fit to be a leader of such an army.” A smile breaks on his face, revealing pristine white teeth, unlike the rotted smiles that met you before. “I require the red sap of the Dragon’s Blood in order to complete my transition to the other side,” he says. “The herd is typically protective of the tree, so you may have to rely on stealth or your ability to sway your company to your favor through words. Brute force is also an option.” The corpse looks at you with a tilted head. “These will tell us what type of leader you will make, stallion. Do not return without the sap.” With that, the corpse sinks back into the swamp, leaving your fire circle void of any movement. |