Post by Anari on Aug 4, 2014 4:02:21 GMT -8
Anari groaned deeply, slowly coming back from that place of pitch black unconsciousness and into the real world. Her entire body was aching, though that had become the norm of late. Slowly she opened her eyes and raised her head from the feel of cool stone beneath her cheek, though it took her a few long moments to realize what she was seeing.
She seemed to be in a dimly lit cave of some sort, with a tunnel leading who-knew-where, though she suspected it led out as she smelled fresh air and the light filtered in from that direction. There were no signs of the DHS or Highlord, no arcane circle beneath her, nothing. It seemed their ‘experiment’ of which she was an unwilling participant had been a success. With a grim smile she recalled their shouts of pain as the lightning from the magic had struck out at them. Served them right! Pushing herself into a sitting position, she took a quick inventory of what she had been given. Her studded leather was serviceable, if a bit plain and worn with a couple of missing studs. Her backpack was in one piece well enough, though the contents had much to be desired. The rations were clearly several days past their last usefulness, so she discarded them. The water smelled foul; it was poured out. She’d rather starve or thirst to death than consume that nasty meal. The blanket was hardly useful, but in a pinch she supposed it would function as a bandage source. Her spare clothes, mostly undamaged. Feeling for a small hidden pouch, she found some coins, and in the pale light saw two silvery mint gleaming at her. Her mother had always told her to have some money for a rainy day. Well, this definitely counted! And her flail. Anari reached out and took hold of the reinforced wooden handle. It felt comfortable in her hands, familiar and sure, undamaged from its ordeal. What a relief!
Anari sighed softly. She had done her all. Now the rest of it was up to Tygeal and the rebels. Whatever gods were out there help them, because at the rate she saw, they would need it. Slowly she pushed herself to stand, then gasped as her right leg partially buckled from beneath her, burning pain igniting every nerve and making her have to catch herself against the wall until it eased. Well, at least she wasn’t dead. The dead can’t feel pain after all. And how her leg became crippled was a memory she would never forget, either in her waking hours or her nightmares.
Not long after she and the rebel captain had parted, their efforts were put to the ultimate test as she was captured by a DHS Commander, a dread classification of warrior known as a Dragonknight, and brought in for questioning. Her blue eyes closed as the horrific memories intruded upon her mind. She had resisted, telling them time and again that she had nothing to do with the rebels or the theft of the orb. It was truth enough, but the lead Dragonknight had a particular bone to pick with her. Seems the one she killed, the DHS, was his younger brother, so he was particularly interested in seeing her suffer for it. She cringed, a hand going to her right thigh where a circular scar was all that remained of the terrible wound that had left her crippled. She could still hear his soft, mock-sympathizing voice in her ear.
If you would cooperate, all this will end. Do you feel what that salve they’re dabbing on your leg is doing? It’s healing it. But as is, if we apply it all, you will never walk again. Are you so certain it’s worth that?
She’d broken then, telling them of the druid and the favor she’d wrested. Now, a fierce grin found Anari’s face, despite the dull ache. They could search for years, but they would never find the druid or the fissure she'd said the druid's called fish had dropped their orb into. Neither ever had existed! Drawing the heavy, spiked flail carefully up to her she touched it, and spoke a soft word that had taken her many, many hours of practice to be able to say, as she was no arcanist. Much to her relief, a single, sun-fire yellow rune appeared between the killing spikes, showing that the Highlords had, in their arrogance, lost their precious weapon forever. The former watch lieutenant had to hand it to the rebel captain, Tygeal. It was a brilliant plan, and she admired him for coming up with it. Upon getting Anari’s agreement to protect the weapon, an orb about the size of a large marble that drew its power from the sun itself, they had secretly melted down her flail and reforged it, the rebel throwing in the magic artifact when the head was half-poured. This had been wrapped with layer upon layer of protection against the flail being broken, as well as to conceal the magic now upon it and lessen suspicion. Afterwards, he had her beat on some old armor as well as some stone, to make the flail look more worn-in. When they were done, the pair had parted ways, and Anari had held a suspicion, now proven, that it would be the last time they ever saw one another. She wished him well.
Shaking her head, Anari focused herself on the present. Sliding the handle of her flail into its holster at her hip, she steadied her balance – the many hours in her cell relearning to walk with her bad leg now paying off – and began making her way up the tunnel. It gently sloped up, but she saw light at the end, sunlight! Eager to get out of the darkness which had been her surroundings for far too long, she exited the tunnel, and gasped at what she saw!
Before Anari stretched the bowl of some large structure. No, not a structure: it was a rock formation, round and very high, with sand in the middle. She herself was on a ledge fairly high up, so it was only after she’d moved to the edge that she saw what seemed to be people below. Then she heard a scraping noise behind and to her right, turned, and nearly screamed.
A dragon! There was a dragon sprawled on the rocks not ten feet from her, watching her! It wasn’t as big as the Highlord that had been present before, but her heart still leapt in terror and she quickly spun fully around, drawing her flail as she meant to fight for her life! But the abruptness of the movement caused her to put all her weight on her right foot, which came down half off the lip of the edge and gave way. The dragon lunged forward seemingly to attack (Anari had no way of knowing it was trying to help her) but was too slow as the woman fell over the side with a cry.
Anari tumbled through the air, bouncing off a lower, smaller ledge and then impacting the ground to tumble over and over again, before coming to a stop in the warm sands half on her stomach. Trembling all over, she was dazed for a moment or three, then hearing movement in the sand made her force her eyes open. She saw her outstretched left arm before her, her flail about a yard past… then a shadow fell on the sand between her and her weapon. Someone, or something, had seemingly come to investigate. Groaning in slight pain, hurting far too much for pride to have a say, she forced herself to rise up to her elbow at least, and look up to meet her fate.
(word count, 1270+/500. burns (as burning), admire, realize)
She seemed to be in a dimly lit cave of some sort, with a tunnel leading who-knew-where, though she suspected it led out as she smelled fresh air and the light filtered in from that direction. There were no signs of the DHS or Highlord, no arcane circle beneath her, nothing. It seemed their ‘experiment’ of which she was an unwilling participant had been a success. With a grim smile she recalled their shouts of pain as the lightning from the magic had struck out at them. Served them right! Pushing herself into a sitting position, she took a quick inventory of what she had been given. Her studded leather was serviceable, if a bit plain and worn with a couple of missing studs. Her backpack was in one piece well enough, though the contents had much to be desired. The rations were clearly several days past their last usefulness, so she discarded them. The water smelled foul; it was poured out. She’d rather starve or thirst to death than consume that nasty meal. The blanket was hardly useful, but in a pinch she supposed it would function as a bandage source. Her spare clothes, mostly undamaged. Feeling for a small hidden pouch, she found some coins, and in the pale light saw two silvery mint gleaming at her. Her mother had always told her to have some money for a rainy day. Well, this definitely counted! And her flail. Anari reached out and took hold of the reinforced wooden handle. It felt comfortable in her hands, familiar and sure, undamaged from its ordeal. What a relief!
Anari sighed softly. She had done her all. Now the rest of it was up to Tygeal and the rebels. Whatever gods were out there help them, because at the rate she saw, they would need it. Slowly she pushed herself to stand, then gasped as her right leg partially buckled from beneath her, burning pain igniting every nerve and making her have to catch herself against the wall until it eased. Well, at least she wasn’t dead. The dead can’t feel pain after all. And how her leg became crippled was a memory she would never forget, either in her waking hours or her nightmares.
Not long after she and the rebel captain had parted, their efforts were put to the ultimate test as she was captured by a DHS Commander, a dread classification of warrior known as a Dragonknight, and brought in for questioning. Her blue eyes closed as the horrific memories intruded upon her mind. She had resisted, telling them time and again that she had nothing to do with the rebels or the theft of the orb. It was truth enough, but the lead Dragonknight had a particular bone to pick with her. Seems the one she killed, the DHS, was his younger brother, so he was particularly interested in seeing her suffer for it. She cringed, a hand going to her right thigh where a circular scar was all that remained of the terrible wound that had left her crippled. She could still hear his soft, mock-sympathizing voice in her ear.
If you would cooperate, all this will end. Do you feel what that salve they’re dabbing on your leg is doing? It’s healing it. But as is, if we apply it all, you will never walk again. Are you so certain it’s worth that?
She’d broken then, telling them of the druid and the favor she’d wrested. Now, a fierce grin found Anari’s face, despite the dull ache. They could search for years, but they would never find the druid or the fissure she'd said the druid's called fish had dropped their orb into. Neither ever had existed! Drawing the heavy, spiked flail carefully up to her she touched it, and spoke a soft word that had taken her many, many hours of practice to be able to say, as she was no arcanist. Much to her relief, a single, sun-fire yellow rune appeared between the killing spikes, showing that the Highlords had, in their arrogance, lost their precious weapon forever. The former watch lieutenant had to hand it to the rebel captain, Tygeal. It was a brilliant plan, and she admired him for coming up with it. Upon getting Anari’s agreement to protect the weapon, an orb about the size of a large marble that drew its power from the sun itself, they had secretly melted down her flail and reforged it, the rebel throwing in the magic artifact when the head was half-poured. This had been wrapped with layer upon layer of protection against the flail being broken, as well as to conceal the magic now upon it and lessen suspicion. Afterwards, he had her beat on some old armor as well as some stone, to make the flail look more worn-in. When they were done, the pair had parted ways, and Anari had held a suspicion, now proven, that it would be the last time they ever saw one another. She wished him well.
Shaking her head, Anari focused herself on the present. Sliding the handle of her flail into its holster at her hip, she steadied her balance – the many hours in her cell relearning to walk with her bad leg now paying off – and began making her way up the tunnel. It gently sloped up, but she saw light at the end, sunlight! Eager to get out of the darkness which had been her surroundings for far too long, she exited the tunnel, and gasped at what she saw!
Before Anari stretched the bowl of some large structure. No, not a structure: it was a rock formation, round and very high, with sand in the middle. She herself was on a ledge fairly high up, so it was only after she’d moved to the edge that she saw what seemed to be people below. Then she heard a scraping noise behind and to her right, turned, and nearly screamed.
A dragon! There was a dragon sprawled on the rocks not ten feet from her, watching her! It wasn’t as big as the Highlord that had been present before, but her heart still leapt in terror and she quickly spun fully around, drawing her flail as she meant to fight for her life! But the abruptness of the movement caused her to put all her weight on her right foot, which came down half off the lip of the edge and gave way. The dragon lunged forward seemingly to attack (Anari had no way of knowing it was trying to help her) but was too slow as the woman fell over the side with a cry.
Anari tumbled through the air, bouncing off a lower, smaller ledge and then impacting the ground to tumble over and over again, before coming to a stop in the warm sands half on her stomach. Trembling all over, she was dazed for a moment or three, then hearing movement in the sand made her force her eyes open. She saw her outstretched left arm before her, her flail about a yard past… then a shadow fell on the sand between her and her weapon. Someone, or something, had seemingly come to investigate. Groaning in slight pain, hurting far too much for pride to have a say, she forced herself to rise up to her elbow at least, and look up to meet her fate.
(word count, 1270+/500. burns (as burning), admire, realize)