The Past, How it haunts us..

[Drankathar]

He sat in the bedroom, legs crossed before him, idly tracing the dragon tattoo on his right arm with a dagger. He cut the skin where the tattoo was and watched it reform perfectly to the shape of the dragon again. Oddly the blood still flowed from the wound, but the tattoo remained hole. He sighed, these tattoos he could never get rid of, burned onto his skin by the hands of a goddess. He wondered when he died would he finally be free of them? Reminders of past failures, of past paths that he no longer wanted to walk, not now, not every again. He heated the knife on a nearby candle and started to cut his hair.

Thoughts raced through his mind. Dark Heart wasn't pleased, she never was these days, he had failed her when he thought he had passed. He watched on when the faithful where expelled from the temple. Nothing made sense. The church needed to be strong… not fragmented… why would Shar wish this to happen? Nothing made sense. He let go of the knife and drifted into the downward spiral of despair, the sound of the knife hitting the paved floors echoed in his mind.

His mind drifted to things past. Velisa lay in his arms, her great sword driven through her chest, she no longer breathed, no longer looked pained. Her dark hair hanged about her face framing it perfectly. The softness of her skin felt cold to touch, never again would he hold her in his arms, never again would he kiss those lips, never again would he hear her voice. She was gone and how he missed her, why didn’t she run? This is all love brought him, pain and loss. That was the true nature of love, not happiness but pain. Not an eternity together but loss that is eternal. His thoughts shifted.

Pain. The metallic smell of blood surrounded him. He opened his eyes slowly. The High Inquisitor smiled at him and shifted his nose. "There's a good boy, wake up now". His hands where bound above his head all he felt was pain coursing through his body, he couldn’t feel his legs anymore, long since shattered by one of the wicked devices. That didn’t matter though; he was forced to put his full weight on his shattered legs. The high Inquisitor picked up a knife, its blade shaped wickedly to catch on the skin. "Hold still, lets see if this removes the taint" the inquisitor grinned. He felt the knife get driven slowly into his body, he wasn't sure if he screamed in pain or not… it hardly mattered. He saw his blood, saw the knife, felt the inquisitor as he twisted the knife slowly inside him. "Shar… where are you?" he thought as the inquisitor ripped the knife out of his body. Pain raked his body, he could feel the warm sensation of his blood flowing freely out of the wound. He felt weak, on the verge of passing out again. "Who do you serve boy?" the inquisitor said fitting his nose back on his face. Slowly he answered "th…The darkness… it comes… nothing you do… will change me… Shar is eternal… Shar will be here… at the end… despair… the… darkness… comes!" he passed out. His thoughts shifted.

He slipped along the side of the battle waiting for the tell tale sign of a mage. Soon he heard it. A man and a woman chanting up the back, surrounded by close to ten archers. He moved in for the kill. Once again going for his great Axe he charged at the last moment slashing the man in half before he realized what had happened. he dropped his Axe with the falling mage and drew his battle axe, swung his tower shield off his back, taking a glancing hit from one of the arrows that where now starting to rain down on him. The female mage went into casting, a fireball raced off her hand landing at the spot where he just stood. It went of with a loud explosion, killing most of the archers that where standing near the mage and burning him badly. He drank a potion of healing quickly, sealing his burns and enabling him to get back into the fight. He needed to kill the mage and fast, she started casting again, and he saw his opportunity. Slashing out with his axe and leaving himself wide open to the remaining archer, he cut the mages left hand clean off. She cried in pain and fell to the ground, as an arrow flew past his chest. He lunged for the archer who feebly put up his bow to stop the axe. It was no good his axe cleanly crashing into the archers skull. Exhausted and badly hurt, he turned to see how the others fared. They where nowhere to be seen. He carefully walked back to where they had lead the assault from. A score of bodies lay around him, some still barely alive and groaning or gasping their last. He noticed something in the distance. A lone Dwarf body lay in the muck. Gimi. He frowned, "he died well" he thought and walked to his body. Gaeden came running back from his left, Agrim from his right, both men worse for ware. Gaeden moved for the group of bodies, pushing them aside looking for something, Agrim panted and tried to catch his breath, keeping a look out. He looked back to Gaeden, He was lifting the body of Darius out of the muck. His thoughts shifted.

His mind raced, images of his past flew by. He was in Waterdeep, no on a ship, no in Baldurs gate with his thieves, no he was running through the wilderness. Finally it stopped. The town of Beregost was spread out before him. His home. He was young again, barely 14 winters. Some would have said he was hansom, not a scar on his face. He had short black hair like his fathers. He was looking out the window of his family's two-story house. The sky was clear above him, a slight chill wind was in the air making the trees sway to and fro. It was after the winter, the trees just beginning to gain their leaves back. His mother was behind him making that nights dinner, her raven black hair hanging loosely around her shoulders as she worked. His father was somewhere in the fields tending to some ones crops or livestock. His sister sat behind him reading a book that she had picked up from a merchant that passed through town a week or so ago. She was dress in a dark red dress. Her hair, like their mothers, was a dark black and hung about her shoulders loosely. When she stood it would almost reach to her tailbone. She was only a few winters older then him and already getting noticed by a few of the local boys in town. She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes locking with his. She stuck her tongue out at him then threw her bookmark at him. He caught it easily with a sigh. "Stupid sister" he though and threw it back at her hitting her squarely in the head. "Oi, you two play nice, no fighting. I'm just going to the market to get some meat and some more bread. Ill be back in an hour" his mother called to them from the kitchen. He watched her leave then walked to his room. He sat on his bed and looked at the present he had got from his father that morning. A brand new wood axe was laid out before him. His father said they would go out on the weekend and cut down a tree together for firewood. A sign that his father thought he was ready to become a man. He thought about the day that his father would finally take him hunting, and how they would catch the biggest deer in the land and how everyone would be so happy.

A noise from downstairs broke what he was thinking about. The sound of the door being opened. "Mother shouldn’t be back already.." the thought. The sound of something shattering echoed through the house followed by a muffled scream. He edges slowly to the door to see two brutish men standing in the living room. One with his hand covering his sisters mouth the other taking things of value. The man holding his sister was a dark skinned man, his eyes slanted and his face had some kind of tattoo on it the shale of a grinning skull with teardrops around it. The other was more a beast then a man. Orcan blood easy to see he was a monster of a man. His lank brown hair hanged from his head and down his back. Both men where armed with various weapons. Both men hadn't noticed him yet. He came charging out at the man that held his sister screaming "Who are you? What are you doing". Pain entered his world then, he shook his head and noticed he was slumped against the wall, the orcan man standing over him. The orc struck out with his knee slamming into his jaw shattering it easily. His world began to spin. The orc grunted, "ima guna cuts ya boy, and im gona makes you hurt" it chuckled and pulled out a knife. He couldn’t stop him, he was to weak. The orc grabbed his ear and started cutting, he screamed. "oi, Jartox! Knock the fecker out un lets ave sum fun with the lass!" the other man called. The orc looked down at him and grinned, backhanding him across the face hard. He felt the large cut above his eye, he felt his grip on the world begin to fade slowly. Through the coming darkness he saw the orc move over to his sister laughing the whole time. "Stay… awake" he thought. He heard her scream, he heard them laugh. He gave into the feeling burning within. He gave into his hate. "Must… pay… must… kill them!.. kill them all! Save her…" he thought. He shook his head slowly and crawled to his room. He fumbled around for it… his hands clasping what he needed. The axe. He staggered out slowly. The orc had his sister pinned and was raping her, her screams echoed in his ears. Slowly he covered the distance, slowly he raised the axe above his head and with all the strength he could muster he brought the axe crashing down into the orcs skull. The orc collapsed over his sister. He struggled to move the brute of her. She was sobbing quietly under the mass of the orc. He heaved with all he had and rolled the orc off her. He hugged her. "i…mm ere" he managed to mummer through his shattered jaw. He stood her up hugging her close to him. He heard the sound, bow string drawn arrow in flight. It was to late. He heard her gasp he felt her shudder. "S..saa…." she whispered. He watched her die in his arms. His thoughts shifted.

He opened his eyes, the knife on the ground before him. His hands shaking. Tears flowed freely from his right eye, yet his left remained dry. An injury he had had since the orc hit him. He held him self, rocking slowly. "M..make.. me forget Great Lady… make me forget it all... This pain is to much, Ashleigh..." he sniffed "I… failed you" He clenched his fists and bent slowly to pick up his knife. He walked to the door of his room grabbing his other weapons as he went. "They will all pay" he said through clenched teeth "Oblivion awaits them, and I shall bring it!". That day the guards would find dead bodies everywhere, always male, always two together…

[Misty]

oooohhhh......

[peterdin]

*stunned*

[PensivesWetness]

*stunned*

so.... you get frequint bonus.... somethings with local mortitions and undertakers?

/me claps, impressed

[Ogregrim]

Dark and grim. I like it.