Post by C'tair on Oct 11, 2005 8:05:37 GMT -5
with his sight growing dim and a comfortable numbness taking hold of his body, an elf is lying in a growing puddle of his own blood on the ground. he's staring at the figure of a man in dark armor, who moves his lips though no sound penetrates the red veil that shrouds the elf's fading consciousness.
'Something's wrong with this picture', the elf thinks. he tries hard to figure out what it is. his eyes loose their focus, and in his mind, the picture shifts into the horizontal and becomes alive once more. the man has changed. now he's wearing a cloak, and a hood conceals his face. or is it even the same man?
the sound of his whispers reach the elf's ears. he's talking about a dwarf, marcus. a dwarf who's the only one that knows. 'Knows what?' the elf thinks. another name takes shape in his memory. hrothgar.
'Are you interested in finding Hrothgar?' the man asked in a low voice. 'So do my associates. The key is a Dwarf, a Cyricist. He was the last one to have the remains. We followed a trail and were ambushed by Cyricists, a patrol of some sorts. Somehow they are behind all this. Help us recover the Dwarf and we can talk. His body was last seen near the dark temple in the Kings Forest.'
after what seems like hours, the elf blinks. slowly the feeling is returning to his body. and with it, pain. all his limps scream in agony while his heartbeat reaches it's normal frequency once more. unable to lay still, he tries to sit up. coughing blood, he holds his head with both arms and cradles it back and forth.
the dark armored man is gone, and the shapes of his friends are standing or sitting close to him. a female voice speaks in a strange tongue. looking down at himself, he watches the wounds under his torn and blood soaked shirt close. looking up at the others, rage takes hold of his thoughts. someone will pay for this.
'Something's wrong with this picture', the elf thinks. he tries hard to figure out what it is. his eyes loose their focus, and in his mind, the picture shifts into the horizontal and becomes alive once more. the man has changed. now he's wearing a cloak, and a hood conceals his face. or is it even the same man?
the sound of his whispers reach the elf's ears. he's talking about a dwarf, marcus. a dwarf who's the only one that knows. 'Knows what?' the elf thinks. another name takes shape in his memory. hrothgar.
'Are you interested in finding Hrothgar?' the man asked in a low voice. 'So do my associates. The key is a Dwarf, a Cyricist. He was the last one to have the remains. We followed a trail and were ambushed by Cyricists, a patrol of some sorts. Somehow they are behind all this. Help us recover the Dwarf and we can talk. His body was last seen near the dark temple in the Kings Forest.'
after what seems like hours, the elf blinks. slowly the feeling is returning to his body. and with it, pain. all his limps scream in agony while his heartbeat reaches it's normal frequency once more. unable to lay still, he tries to sit up. coughing blood, he holds his head with both arms and cradles it back and forth.
the dark armored man is gone, and the shapes of his friends are standing or sitting close to him. a female voice speaks in a strange tongue. looking down at himself, he watches the wounds under his torn and blood soaked shirt close. looking up at the others, rage takes hold of his thoughts. someone will pay for this.