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+--- Thread: Four Cold Walls [Request] (/showthread.php?tid=149)
Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-22-2010
The Setting
This takes place roughly 8 years before the events of the game, within the Garlean Empire. To be more specific, within their highest security prison. The room usually contains no more than four prisoners, and is octagon in shape, spanning about 50 feet in diameter between each wall. The walls rise nearly a hundred feet high, likely in a tower of some sort, and the only light that can be seen is from the damaged roof of the tower. It is pouring rain, which means that rain is leaking in from the rooftop, down unto the tower floor, and hence, conditions currently are quite poor. This room is quite big, and has only four individuals, likely placed under the highest security due to their past deeds, or misdeeds. Most likely, they are prisoners of war that were captured during the invasion of Ala Mihgo. Chained upon the darkest wall, where the light does not land upon at this time of day, is Revanoth, a man who appears to be in his mid twenties.
The Plot
It is roughly two years after the invasion of Ala Mihgo by the Garlean Empire. Revanoth, a dark damaged man has been devising a plan to escape the prison, but his mind has grown dark, and his heart cold. He is quiet and reserved, but his eyes often remained open in an endless cold stare. Anyone who would look upon him would think it best to keep him chained up, or to put him out of his misery. Its clear what he intends to do once he is freed. Some believe his mind is clouded by insanity and madness, but for Revan, his conscience has never been more clear of what he must do and the mission that is set ahead of him.
The Purpose
I will soon be putting together a website, some lore foundation, among other things for a Heavy RP Linkshell that will have a chaotic evil alignment. Revanoth did not come into this world as a monster... quite the opposite. But his past has molded his life into something that is now irreversable. He wants to destroy the evil that plagues the world... but sadly, his mind has lost the ability to tell the difference between what is good and what is evil. To him, their is no extreme, no black or white... there is just the disease that plagues this world... that took everything he loved from him... He would unleash hell upon the planet if he could, were he freed to do so. This is an opening for some people to become involved, if they like the chaotic evil approach.
Rules of Participation
I would ask that you remain active and stick as closely to the setting as you can. Obviously, all RP rules apply, no meta-play, no god-modding. I am okay with the use of magic, but be careful of how you interact with player characters... and also, be sure to try and follow the rules of conjury according to the lore.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-22-2010
Revanoth's eyes remained coldly upon the wet puddled floor of the prison, not looking to the other three who were chained up within them. Conditions were poor, and it was a miracle that they all had survived so far without illness. It was only a matter of time. His thoughts only focused upon leaving this place... if he did not do so soon, he would surely die in here. The room was cold, a bit below room temperature, Revan was uncloathed, save for ragged torn pants. He bore many scars upon his chest and back, but these were all likely earned through torture, and likely the other prisoners had endured the same. Nothing was said for hours between the prisoners, nothing usually ever is. What spirits they once had, were now nearly broken, continually rotting in this dark place that they've made home to now for nearly two years. Revan had long chestnut brown hair that went just beyond his broad shoulders, a haggard beard now that was nearly half as long as his hair was. He had not bathed the hole time he was here, and an old corpse lay at one of the corners within the room, greyish blue and discolored... rotten to the point that there would be no identifying of who it was, save for in memory alone. The prison guards did not care to remove it, and it was likely there for months, maggot infested, as flies made home to it. Left there as a reminder of how rebellious behavior would be handled.
The man it once was, perhaps was brave in his action, but ultimately his efforts to make every guard's life a living hell costed him his life. They let him starve to death, not feeding him for weeks. The strong muscular burly middle-aged man's form transformed from stalky and stout, to anorexic in only three weeks. He was so skinny by the time he died, that he barely looked among the living, his cheeks and skin tightly vacuumed in around his bones. Now... he is nothing but a pile of stinky filfth that further plagues the prison cell. The odor of the corpse that had lied there for months, mixed with the lack of hygiene of the prisoners made the smell of the room unbearable... repulsive. Literally sickening. It was something the prisoners grew used to by now, perhaps they've even forgotten about it.
Two large iron doors unbolted with a heavy and loud clank. Two guards walked in, a torch lighting up the faces of the prisoners within the dimly lit room. Revan's eyes did not move towards them, though others would look their way. A stalky and slightly obese guard looked towards the taller thinner one after looking at Revan for a long moment.
"...Y'know... I swear e's been lookin' a' tha' floor for three years, Kosh. Maybe e's dead..." The fatter one said to the other.
The taller thinner one shook his head at Kosh and pointed to the bile filfth lying in the corner.
"If'n he was dead ye' idiot, ya' reckon he wouldn't look so... among the livin' would ya? Go on... why don't you go check, Min."
Their names, as they usually referred to each other were Kosh and Min... likely nicknames that were made amongst each other. They were the usual guards that would bring food to the prisoners... one meal a day. It usually was some sort of oatmeal looking substance, though it was maggot infested. Not a decent meal to be served within this place. The prisoners ate it anyway, if they didn't it meant they would starve to death. Food was something in this place that one couldn't be picky over, otherwise you'd end up like the man lying in the corner. Min shook his head, looking to Kosh with a widened glare.
"Oi' ye think I'm stupid?! I know what'e did in Mihgo!"
They likely were reminded every day of why Revanoth must never be unchained. His ability with magic and swordplay were unique among all, and likely if he could ever find a vessel of some sort to power his conjury, it would be the end of his imprisonment and all who stood in his way. No, the best way to handle him was to keep him there on the wall and let him rot. Until his broken spirit would give in, and the Garlean could use him as a weapon of their own... it would only be a matter of time before they would give up and put an end to him. Kosh looked over Revanoth with a cold sizing up glance.
"Oh, he's nothin' special... no better than that rottin' corpse o'er there... Just o' waste o' space who ain't gonna do nothin' but rot in this place."
Kosh walks up to Revanoth slowly before standing just two feet infront of him, the man bending forward to look Revanoth in the eyes. Revan did not look at him. His eyes remained fixed as they were before they entered.
"Ain't that righ' boyo? Ye' ain't nothin' special."
The man clears flem from the back of his throat and coughs it forward in his mouth, and launches the grimey mucus from his mouth onto Revan's face.... the grime sliding down the side of his cheek. Kosh begins to laugh hysterically and crazily, and looks back to min chuckling, "See, wha'd'I tellya?!"
Just as the man turned his back towards him, Revan stood to his feet, inching his chains as far as they would go, closing his hands just enough around Kosh's neck to pull him closer to him. With all his might, he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, and pulled him down to the floor. Min began to panick as he watched what was taking place, as his friend was starting to be strangled by Revan. He glances down the open corridor.
"Ey! We need some 'elp! He's gotta'old o' Kosh!! Guards!!"
By the time, Min looked back, Revan was resting against the cold wall, Kosh's corpse lying face first in a puddle of water at Revanoth's feet, his neck snapped and broken, his body lifeless and without breathing. Revan remained quiet, and his eyes lowered once more to the spot they rested on before. Finally he lets out a wry remark with deep undertones of his voice.
"...it never pays to be impolite, Min... lest you end up like your friend..."
Min's eyes were that of disbelief. Guards eventually stormed the room, and with clubs four or five of them began to beat Revan all at once. When they left, Revan was barely conscious, his face and body bloodied, bruised, and beaten. He slowly drifted into an unconscious state, where he did not wake up for nearly two days.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - DAISHI - 06-23-2010
[undeleted
]The most intimidating looking of the guards allowed everyone to back away, their unskilled attacks having beaten but not finished the prisoner. As the bruised captive sat there on his knees, eyes to the grounds and breathing heavily, the tall prison guard stepped forward. A large staff in hand, he arced it upwards for a second, striking the man with such an incredible blow to the thigh that it sent the prisoner into spasms, his eyes going closed as he fell face forward, falling in shock at the crushing of his femoral artery. The guard knew the blow, in conjunction with the rest of the beatings, would have the prisoner out for a day or two. The imposing figure turned, staff still his hand, as he pointed out two guards and then pointed to the body. "Get that out of here."
He walked outside of the cell and into the main hallway, passing into the pale light of torches that lined the central prisoner hallway, grimacing at the sound of hooting and hollering that the rest of the uncouth mob emitted as they leapt about, bragging of their beating.
"Way to do it!" called one, slapping the tall man on the shoulder.
"You got 'em there Kain!" said another, a fat one, the clapping of his hands causing his oversized belly to shake, the light exposing the grease and sweat that trickled down to the line of his trousers. "What a hit I tell's ya!"
The guard shook his head. None of them could see his disgust, and he was better for it. His face was covered in a black tiara, a transparent facial mask that allowed him to see everyone around him but kept his own visage hidden. A hood sat atop his head and ran downward into the tuck of his cowl, his body wrapped in brown cloth, his feet and hands covered in gloves and boots that were secured to his body by ropes. He remained silent, simply walking among the ruffians as they passed under the pale lights, the torches dancing upon the walls and casting an array of shadows on the floor that appeared as living wraiths stretching upon the stone ground and up to the ceiling. Far above, thin slits in the stone ceiling exposed the sky, and streaks of pale blue moonlight crisscrossed the prison floor.
Their hollering and hooting went on too long, and the man they referred to as Kain could no longer deal with it. "The entire whole of you are rank amateurs," he said with a growl in his voice that could be heard to end of the prison. "Blink and you die, but that's the lesson you just learned, now isn't it? The problem is that the lot of you have never understood what it means to stand on the brink of your deaths, face the abyss and then have to claw your way out." He stopped a moment, turning back in the direction of Revan's cell and thrusting his staff towards it. "Well one of you has now. And he was found lacking. No disrespect to any of you, but the truth is, with the way you conduct yourselves, I'm surprised you all haven't found ways to get killed working in this place. This is a prison, and we have some fairly violent occupants here. Or have you forgotten?"
They groused as a whole, but did not argue. They wanted to ride the thrill of having beaten a prisoner, but had lost a comrade to that same prisoner. There was no honor in it. As they reached the end of the hallway, Kain took hold of the keys at his waist, sliding them into the lock of the heavy iron door. A loud click could be heard, the door swinging open and exposing the guard room inside. Just beyond the stretch of the main prison was the small area where the lot of ruffians the empire deemed 'guards' could sit and enjoy their downtime. A few tables occupied the center and a chimney fireplace on the left side burned, a hot cauldron sitting above it, a thick and viscous gruel bubbling away. The scent of it offended his nostrils, as he was not from here and his tastes in food were from a different land. Still, it was edible, in the strictest of senses, and he was forced to admit it was either this to eat or nothing.
He took a look at the meal and shook his head once more. Nothing. He'd eat when he got home. His left arm stretched outwards to the heavy iron door, sending it to a close with a resounding boom whose echo carried out into the night air. The ring of it carried in their bones and shook their hearts, but Kain paid it no mind, his eyes instead searching out the area. The men here were half dressed or worse, some of them rife with muscle but many instead looking rather... underwhelming. The overweight ones he understood the least. How could one work in such a dangerous environment as this and not at least attempt to improve their condition? What if a full out prion break occurred? How would such men endure?
"Amateurs," he mumbled, stepping through the group huddled about, many of them playing games of cards at their tables, his feet carrying him without sound along the stone floor as he approached the doorway at the opposite end. His men fell behind him a moment but he turned, hand upraised, and they cowered at it. "I just need a breather," he told them, and they nodded in their cowardice, the masked figure turning back to the more simple wooden door that opened into the rest of the complex. These men would be the death of themselves at some point. Regardless of his disdain for their tactics, at some level he was protective of them. Yet so many were from the margins of society, hired for their lack of morals and willingness to beat a prisoner to an inch of his life. He wasn't sure his patriarchal instinct was well deserved.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-23-2010
The most intimidating looking of the guards allowed everyone to back away, their unskilled attacks having beaten but not finished the prisoner. As the bruised captive sat there on his knees, eyes to the grounds and breathing heavily, the tall prison guard stepped forward. A large staff in hand, he arced it upwards for a second, striking the man with such an incredible blow to the thigh that it sent the prisoner into spasms, his eyes going closed as he fell face forward, falling in shock at the crushing of his femoral artery.
Revan saw the world around him slowly begin to spend, as all his vision faded to black. He collapsed on the damp floor, body trembling in spasms from the brutality his figure had just undergone. Soon the guards would leave, and the other three prisoner's began to converse among each other, likely wondering if Revan would ever wake up... or if he too would be another rotting corpse within this cell. They did not speak to each other often, except when there was something that needed to be said. Least of all did they converse with Revan. They had tried in the past, but he kept himself distant... detached.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The old aged scholar lingered behind at a slower pace than the younger man and woman, though he tried with all his strength to keep up. They had been travelling for fifteen minutes within the darkness of the alleys of Ala Mihgo at a quick pace. They came to one of the main openings and the young man crept to the corner of the cobblestone street, where the two roads met, leaning around the corner of the bakery that was the ruined building that once stood there. He looked back towards the young woman, who hid behind some carts within the alley, along with the old man, and gestured that they remain there. Slowly he leaned once more around the corner, seeing distant marching columns of soldiers down the road. He quickly gestures for them to come forward after nearly a minute.
"...We must hurry!" He whispered loudly, "They'll be searching the alleys any moment... we have no time."
He approached them and crouched down looking the woman over. The woman was young and beautiful, long curly locks of dark brown, nearly black hair fell far beyond her shoulders. She looked to the young man with pleading dark sorrel eyes, that glimmered against the eclipsed moon-light and flames of distant burning buildings. She was petite in figure, though she was with child. From the looks of her, she was likely five or six months in her pregnancy. "Revan... your grandfather..." She whimpered quietly. The old man coughed and hacked, spitting flem out away from the other two, before gesturing weakly for Revan to come forward.
Revan knelt before the old man who was resting against the stone wall of the building amongst the alleyway. The old man raised his hand and rested it on Revan's shoulder. "...Revan... listen to me, lad..." He coughs violently. "... you need to leave me. I'm going to slow y---" Revan shakes his head and reaches for the man's arms, beginning to pull him up to his feet. "...No... I'll carry you if I must... but I won't leave you to die!" Revan said defiantly to Haydyn. The old man shook his head, his brows furrowing heavily at the young man. "Don't be a fool, boy!.... I.. I've lived a good life. You have Aurelia and your child to take care of... you must let me go..." The old man pushed Revan's hands back away from him and rested against the corner. "...I love ya, lad... but I'm going to find my son... and we'll find you after." Revan knew Haydyn was lying... he knew his father was likely already dead. He knew that this would be the last moment he saw his grandfather, and he began to fight back tears from his eyes. He swallowed heavily before standing to his feet once more. Soldiers shouted from the other end of the alley way, and they began to draw near.
"Go, boy! Get the hell out of here!" Haydyn commanded. There was no time to let childish behavior settle in. Now was the time that Revan had to be the man he was supposed to be, and take care of his wife. He quickly grabbed Aurelia's hand and they darted across the street, as fast as they could to the alley on the other side. They were running for minutes through the passages between the burning ruined building before Aurelia suddenly let out a great scream. Revan immediately stopped and looked at Aurelia who was clenching at her pregnant belly. "Aurelia!... whats wrong?!" Revan asked with a great look of concern. He pushed her towards the wall and looked down to see if she were struck by an arrow or recieved any wound.
"...its.. its the baby. I don't think I can continue on... Not without hurting him, or myself, Revan." Tears began to trail down the woman's cheeks and she burried her face in his chest. "I'm not ready to die, Revan..." Quiet cries turned into sobs and Revan embraced her tightly kissing her on the temple. "...I won't let them hurt you... I swear it..." He cupped her cheeks into his hands and lifted her face towards his, looking her deep within her eyes. "Do you trust me, Aurelia?... we're going to make it through this... but we must go!" He pleaded with her, but it was to no avail, her pain was so great, and she collapsed against the wall. Revan withdrew his sword and glanced down the alleyway letting out a slight nod. "...keep out of sight, Aurelia... I'll hold them off." Revan began to take off back the way they came where the soldiers voices could be heard from, and Aurelia made out a cry of desperation, "Revan don't!"
Her words would mean little to him at this point. There was no leaving the city, and there was no leaving her. If they were going to die here, he was going to protect his family for as long as air drew within his lungs. The soldiers approached him and he withdrew Illucien, his cerulean eyes resting upon the closest one grimly. The soldiers stopped in their marching and looked at the young man who stood before them no more than 20 paces. "...Looks like someone wants to be a hero." the largest heading the group said with a growl. "Put down your weapon boy, and you will live."
Revan shook his head defiantly, "You're a liar... you'd cut me down soon as you had the chance..."
The Soldier's lips curled into a wicked smile as he nodded once. "You're right... but this makes things more intresting." He said venomously as he unharnessed a claymore from his broad back and pointing it forward to the young man. He stood there for a slight moment before charging Revan, if only to try and instill fear within the boy. It did not work as he had planned. Just as the man came closer to Revan, the jewel within Illucien's hilt began to glow, as did Revan's eyes. Revan through his open freehand forward as if he were going to hit something bluntly, and electrical energy began to emit around his forearm and hand. Finally he discharges a bolt of electricity which travels through the approaching soldier's broad sword, and jolts through his body.
The soldier drops the sword immediately and falls to his knees, growling and spitting on the ground below him. "What conjury is this..." He pushes himself glancing up. Revan stood before him, Illucien held high about to strike down onto the man. Revan does not bring his blade down just yet. "...Have you ever killed a man lad? No.. you're no killer... I can see it in your eyes." The stout warrior grumbled as he looked up to Revan, unable to do anything. Revan's eyes for a moment showed hesitation and inexperience, but it was the last time they ever would. Before the soldier could continue his witty remarks, Revan swung the sword right across his neck, nearly severing it. Crimson began to spray onto Revan's clothing and face, as the arteries in the man's neck began to expel his fluids. After a second, there was a thud, as his body fell forward against the cobblestone into a sanguine pool.
Revan cerulean gaze rose to meet the other soldiers who stood back in shock, and they began to glow once more. He raised his hand towards the flames of the rooftop, and began to manipulate them as the jewel within the hilt of his sword began to glow once more. The flames began to dance rapidly and expand, beginning to fly like fiery wind, and began to crash against the remaining soldiers like violent ocean waves amidst a storm. They all began to scream in pain as the inferno began to burn their skin and clothing. Revan turned away, and his eyes immediately widened. There was a tall man with black hair. Before him was Aurelia, which the man held by her hair, and his freehand held a dagger against her throat.
"...I dare you to try such trickery now... I would wager I could cut her throat before you could even blink... Drop your sword... Now!" The man commanded loudly, many soldiers pouring down the other side of the alley as well. They were surrounded and there was no escaping this fate. Instead of wagering with Aurelia's life, he dropped his sword without hesitation. More soldiers came behind him, stepping around the mess of soldiers Revan had just slain. They kicked at the back of Revan's kneecaps, and had begun to drug him off, the other man taking Aurelia in the opposite direction.
~~~~~~~~
((While Revan is Unconcious I decided I will be throwing in some flash backs as to explain how he ended up here in the first place... and also hopefully give others some time to get involved if they wish. Thanks for the post Daishi! I'm excited to see how they begin to interact, IF they interact))
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - DAISHI - 06-24-2010
It was a day after the death, and Revan was still passed out. The guards had talked it up, as much as they'd talked about Kain putting the man into a dream state, but Kain himself hadn't cared. He'd gone about his duties that day like on any other.
Now, he stood in a room, completely round, torches upon the walls tossing light about the stone face. The light crept upwards to the domed ceiling, fading so that the roof was only barely visible in the darkness of the shadows. All about him, bags full of sawdust and hay were propped up on wooden supports, a dozen or so of them in scattered formation about the large training room. He'd made a life here during his time assigned to the citadel, this imposing prison to which many of the worst criminals and prisoners in the Garlean Empire were assigned. There was little else to do but read when he was not on duty, and if he allowed himself to spend even a day away from his training, he feared becoming like so many others who had grown fat off their lazy work in the prison.
He reached to his back and stripped off the gargantuan axe that he kept always at his back, turning suddenly and putting the blade clean through one of the bags, its contents spilling out onto the floor with a rush. Had it been a man, that would have been his intestines. He then spun immediately, swinging the axe and catching the next back close to the the top, just so that the upper contents went flying into the air. That would have been someone's head. He continued in a circular motion, curving the blade downwards at the next bag, cutting it low and at an angle so that the sawdust fell out from the bottom. That would have been someone's legs.
He then spun, looking into the distance at a row of three bags, too far away to attack. He thrust his hand outwards, wind whipping at his back, eyes narrowing in focus as a gust of air blew past him, taking the bags and throwing them against the wall with enough force that they broke their wooden supports before collapsing onto the ground. The wooden chunks fell to the ground with a clatter, the bags slumping to the floor, while Kain hesitated a moment, sweat forming on his brow and staining his tiara. He blinked, for all of a moment the room vanishing. It was replaced by the sight of lines of warriors, ready for battle, desert sand stretching as far as he could see. The sun overhead was so bright it scorched the ground, a shimmering wave of vision sifting up from the sands as the heat made it difficult to see straight. In the next blink of an eye, he was once more back in the training room, breathing heavily. His eyes moved to his hand, still outstretched, and he suddenly withdrew it, looking ashamed, having been so stolen into the vision that he could not account for how much time had actually passed. All about him there were still lying many bags, their innards strewn about, and he suddenly had no strength to clean it up himself. Turning suddenly to the door, he flung it open, glancing up and down the hallway.
"Steward! Cleanup!"
*****
Kain's room was nothing much more than anyone else's. A small bed occupied the right wall, while on the left was a dresser atop which was a bowl of water and a lit candle, adding to the moonlight streaming in from the slit of a window that sat over his bed. A mirror hung above the dresser and, stripping his tiara from his face, he suddenly became Hyuran again, no longer appearing as the faceless wraith that the rest of the guards here knew him to be. He was still breathing more heavily than he was used to, and a glance in the mirror told him he was fatigued. Feeling weak, he stumbled to the dresser, bracing atop it as he forced his eyes into the mirror. His brown hair fell at his back in a ponytail, the tattoos beneath his face reminding him of days long ago, before even his days as a fighter in Ul'dah.
He sighed, looking downward, and catching sight of one of his wooden carvings atop the dresser, he lifted it. It was a symbol, something like a star, which he had fashioned long ago, in memory of his friend Haya.
"Haya." He sighed, lifting it close to his brown eyes. "It's been years."
It truly had been years since he had seen the boy. They had been friends, though they had started as foes. All it had been was a bar fight following drinks and a game of cards. Kain had taken the boy for almost all his purse, and Haya had been convinced cheating was involved. Kain smiled, laughing slightly as he walked to his bed, sitting down upon the hard mattress. He fingered the small carving, running it about his fingers as he thought of that night.
"Cheating? Me?" His grin spread, amused. "Well Haya, it is true that I was once involved with a woman who taught me all about playing dirty." He stopped as he said this grimacing at the double entendre. "In games, I mean, and maybe a little in combat." His smile faded slightly at the thought of her. So long ago, too, with her. Before Ul'dah. Long before Ul'dah.
Those years, before he'd become a fighter in Ul'dah, were now so far on the horizon of his mind that they seemed to be as dreams and figments of his imagination, like stories one reads when one was a child and then slowly forget, clinging only to bits and pieces as a person got older. Ul'dah had been only... what? Twenty, maybe thirty years ago? There he'd begun his new life, fighting in the arenas, earning a small reputation as a hero of the people, until that bar fight with Haya stripped him of his ability to fight. In place of that, the Syndicate which oversaw the city had asked him to be a mercenary in their employ. He'd gladly accepted, on the condition that Haya be employed as well. In the week following the fight and their arrest, they'd shared cells directly across from each other, and had come to respect and enjoy each other's company. He'd rather have died than left Haya to rot alone in a cell.
So they'd become mercenaries, fighting together, loyal to Ul'dah, the Sultan and the Syndicate. Loyal until the day they were given that damned mission.
His hand squeezed about the wooden figure. "Operation Proximate 6-2," he said, his smile falling into a frown, his teeth gritting even as he said the words. On the surface it had been a mission simply to eliminate opposing cartels threatening the wealth of the Syndicate. In truth...
Kain shook his head. Well, it had been far worse, and Haya had abandoned the mission rather than dishonor himself. Kain should have done the same, and done it sooner, but only after Haya had abandoned did he do the same. When the Syndicate had put a bounty on Haya for disloyalty, Kain had agreed to hunt him down, and had instead vanished.
Almost two decades later, he was here, and not happier for it. When he'd first become servant to the empire, he'd imagined he was destined for great things. He'd had visions of reliving his glory days, years in the past, of being a warrior once more. The assault on Ala Mhigo, while it had employed ground forces, had relied heavily on superior technology to simply decimate the city. Kain had not been happy with his role, and had found little to challenge him in combat while they'd engaged the admittedly brave defenders of the city. Still, what threat was there when the empire's war machines could have laid waste to any potential threat? At no time had he been happy with the rape of Ala Mhigo, and while he'd impressed his commanders with his superior mastery of arms and his skill in conjury, at no time had he felt personally threatened. He'd felt in far dire straits during his days in the desert, when he'd been a tracker, a lone warrior or a mercenary. He'd felt no great honor from taking Ala Mhigo. In the aftermath he'd been given a high position here, and he felt no better for it. There were no challenges here, no threats, unless one allowed threats to happen. The incident with Revan was the clearest sign of that, but that had been a preventable death, were these guards not so badly trained or so lazy. Yet more than that, there was simply no honor in beating the imprisoned.
He focused hard on the wooden figure, sliding it into a pocket in his robe. "Where have the years gone, Haya?" he wondered aloud. "You my friend must be... forty now? Maybe a little younger, maybe a little older?" His hand slid upwards, his fingers touching at his skin, which had softened and moistened in his years in the empire. It was a much easier life than nomadic wanderings in the desert. "And me... shall I ever see you again? I wonder how you are doing now. I wonder if you ever made it to the boat." He smiled, tilting his head forward, nearly leaning into his own knees. "I know you did."
He sighed, shaking off his memories as he got up, his hand taking hold of the tiara. He felt better now, and he had one last duty before he went to bed. He slid the mask over his face and pulled the hood over the top of his head, appearing once more like a faceless wraith, like a shadow in the cloak.
*****
Regardless of what these other guards may have though of him, Kain knew there was no such thing as a perfect warrior. Everyone had a weakness. He thought of this even as his hand fell to his stomach, where a wound so large it should have been fatal ever reminded him of life's fragility and death's immediacy. However, regardless of the reality, it was not reality which put fear into men, it was the image. Some men could back up their image, others could not. Kain had trained long to back up that image, decades really, but he knew that death could come as easily as the night if he ever let his guard down.
Especially in a place like this.
His hand moved to the keys at his waist and, putting them to the cell doors, he stepped into a room of four prisoners. The other three were inconsequential to him, it was Revan he had come to see. Lowering himself to the man's unconscious frame, he tilted the man's face upwards. His fellow prisoners had done little to arrange the body, and neither had the guards. This was no way to leave a man, face down in the filth that covered these prison floors. Taking hold of the man by the shoulder, he flipped him onto his back, his fingers moving towards the man's neck. They pressed gently just below the jaw line and, to his satisfaction, he could feel the beating of a pulse. On rare occasion, shock caused by a blow to the thigh could be fatal. This one was strong though, deadly if left unchained, and apparently deadly even while chained.
"You're going to have a hard time of this old boy. No use getting yourself into more trouble than you have to. They're going to have to let you go one day, after all. Perhaps." His fingers slid away from the man's neck and to his temple, which he tapped slightly. "Judging by the way you've acted almost since day one though, I'm not sure whether that will be a good thing or a bad thing. Seems you lost something along the way. We all have, but you... I don't know what to make of it." He stood up, for a moment lifting the cloth of one of his gloves, a shimmering sparkle raising up from underneath it, something crystalline and beautiful. "I came to tell you I'm bored of this place. Not sure if you'll remember me saying this or not, though. Either way, if I see you on the outside, I'm not sure whether you'll be friend, foe, or something entirely different." His hand fell to his pockets and, grasping at three mound of fresh cheese, he tossed them towards the three prisoners who sat, looking at him in the strangest fashion.
"Don't ever say I didn't do anything for you," he said, though there was no emotion in his voice, no humor or sarcasm. "I may or may not see you again."
With that he turned, slamming the doors closed. He was having one of his premonitions, that strong urge of his emotion. He could feel conflict coming. He thought, maybe he'd stick around a while longer. If nothing happened, he'd find a way to leave. If something did, he'd have himself a little fun, and then leave anyway. Either way, he could feel the call, as he did from time to time. It was beckoning him back to the west, to Eorzea. He wasn't sure if that was to old treading grounds in the deserts of Thanalan, to the Black Shroud, to Dravania or somewhere else entirely different. All he knew was, his time in the empire was waning. New things were going to happen soon.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-24-2010
((WARNING: MATURE THEMES))
"I have a proposition for you... and I would highly suggest you take it."
The man with log black raven hair looked Revan over grimly, who was now tied against a pillar within what appeared to be a ruined cellar... a makeshift dungeon. Revan's weary eyes peered up to the man with a certain distain. Within his tensing muscles could be seen the boiling rage that was ready to erupt fiercely. Bottled anger, that was controlled, reserved... but not by Revan's choice, but by the tightness of his bonds. Revan looked upon his captor defiantly. "... you... you came with your ships into a land that new nothing... that had done nothing to ail you or your kind. You've killed many of my friends... my family... what gives you the nerve to dare make me a proposition?"
The man's lips curled into a wry and dark grin. "Because what ever you have left that your pathetic little life holds dear is currently in my hands..." The man snaps his fingers at the guards at the door behind him, and they turn to open it. Two guards on the other side push Aurelia in and follow. Her face was covered in bruises as were her wrists. Her bloodshot tear swolen eyes shown defeat... a total lack of all hope... only dispair. The sight of seeing his wife like this, enraged Revan... it destroyed him. "...you bastards..." Veins pop from his skin, his face red with anger, "YOU BASTARDS!!!"
The raven-haired man looks back to the guards, and begins to chuckle with sickening amusement. "I hope they haven't had too much fun with her... Impurity among a woman is such an unbecoming thing..." Revan struggled with all his might to move from the bonds that held him, but to no avail. "You struggle vainly, Revanoth, son of Malachai... you struggle vainly. You will only hurt yourself... and more importantly, you will hurt your wife... but you can make all this chaos end... if you are willing to pay the price."
Revan looked down to the ground, his face contorted with anger, his eyes saturated with tears.
"Give youself to the empire... fight as you had fought against us... use your unique abilities for our cause... and you and your wife will have a life again..."
Aurelia had shaken her head in tears, she shouted out to him in sobs, "I would die first!... I would die first! My husband has a will that not the most powerful weapon you possess could bend!..." The raven-haired man glances over his shoulder to the guards and says in a mocking tone, "Keep the bitch QUIET please! I'm conducting a meeting here!" He approaches the woman and pulls his open hand back, swinging it across the woman's face, Aurelia falling back to the ground, blood flowing from her nose and face.
"Leave her alone!! ILL KILL YOU! YOU DAMNED SON OF A BITCH!... ILL RIP YOU APART!!" Revan roared trying to fight his bonds again once more.
The raven-haired man turned around and looked at Revan, his head shaking. He smacks himself in the head with an annoyed sigh. "Oh, this is getting us no where..." He turns around to the woman who was sobbing on the ground just between him and the guards. He approaches her, and grabs her by the scalp of her hair, and yanks her up from the ground by her hair and turns her and himself forward to face Revan. He holds her by his left hand, standing upon her right and smirks to Revan. "Well... you heard it yourself, Revan... She'd rather die." Without warning, he unsheaths a dagger from his belt and drives it into Aurelia's abdomen where her child was being held within her womb. Shrieking gasps left her mouth, eyes widening in complete shock and torment, as blood began to flow profusely down her ripped cotton blouse, she would have collapsed back towards the ground, but the monster would not have it.
He continued to hold her up by her hair as he looked over his shoulder towards Revan, who was now screaming in rage, making the cries of a man, that no other man should ever hear. It was horrible... unreal. "Oh, well... maybe you two will get to try for another one..." The man glances into Aurelia's eyes with a smile on his face. Aurelia's eyelids were fluttering slightly, as her own eyes began to roll back in her head as she nearly lost consciousness. The man lifted his dagger against the creamy skin over her neck, just over the other side of her adam's apple, pressing the tip against her veins. He offered one final smile to Revan, "...maybe not" He said just as he had taken what life was left from her, as his steel ripped into her flesh, sliding his blade roughly through the tendons and arteries between one ear to the other. Her crimson sprayed over Revan's face, and over the man who held her up.
"AAUURREELLLIAAA!!!!!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"AAUURREELLLIAAA!!!!!!"
Revan roared from his lungs as he woke up from his unconsciousness, waken by his nightmare. The others looked at him as if he were completely mad, and it was likely that he probably was. Revan panted heavily, his heart pounding within his chest for a few moments, just after reliving the nightmare he once saw before his eyes, a second time within his dreams. He looked around the cold damp cell room to see the other three staring at him with shock and suprise at their eyes. The eldest man at the wall farthest across from Revan had shaken his head,
"Be calm, lad... be calm. It was just a dream..."
Nightmares were a common thing among prisoners. Many screams that one would hear before sleeping would be screams from torture... yet, half of them were from those who were not tortured. Half of them were from those who had dark memories that tortured more so than any executioner could give them. Revan leaned back against the wall, cocking his head back up towards the broken ceiling many many feet above them. He closed his swolen beaten eyes and had taken in a deep breath.
"...that was no dream..."
The old man appeared to be in his late fifties and was in next to poor condition. He had been ill for a few days now, and likely, he would be dead in the coming months. The prison's conditions weren't fit for rats to live in, let alone those that they held there. Revan looked down into his hand, curiously glancing into it, as he clenched an object folded in cloth within it. A puzzled gaze was masked on his features as the older man continued.
"We didn't think you were gonna come through, lad... but I'm glad ta' see ya' are among the living."
The old man spoke to attempt to lift Revan's spirits, but such was an impossible task. Revan unfolded the object to see a beautiful intricate crystaline figure witin it. He was unsure of where it had came from, or who had given it to him, but as he looked upon the sparkling surface, it brought him a sense of rare peace that he likely will never experience elsewhere.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - DAISHI - 06-24-2010
Kain shoveled a handful of unpolished stones into a bag. He'd started off a woodcarver, but had eventually moved onto shaping and polishing stones. His best were made from what he'd assumed to be Aetheryte, as there was something in the stones themselves, a hum or energy. All he did was fashion and smooth them out. They seemed to give him some comfort and, so, he'd thought they might help Revan.
He'd just finished affixing the bag of stone and wood carvings to his belt when a scream echoed so loudly it pierced the walls of his quarters. He casually glanced at the door, then to his Great Axe that sat, positioned against the wall. His hand reached for it, putting it to his back and securing it on the harness that sat above his robes.
"Sounds like something's happening." His eyes went to the window above the bed. "Ah Tarina. I miss you so much. Would you stick around?" He paused a moment, smiling. "Of course. You'd never leave a place this interesting. But, I think I'll stay in the shadows for now." He turned, exiting into the hallway in complete silence, alerting none to his movements.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-24-2010
Revan's eyes remained fixed upon the polished crystal for a long moment. After what seemed a short eternity, he closed his eyes, dropping his hand to his side and leaning his head back against the stone wall he was chained to. "...Aurelia.." Her name came off his lips in a barely audible whisper. "...they'll all suffer for what they have done..." He opened his eyes once more and looked forward to the door. "...if only I could get out of this place..." Immediately as the thought came into his mind, the stone that was in his hand began to glow. The eyes of the prisoners looked to Revan with curiousity and disbelief... moments after... Revan vanishes from their sight, the chains that held him fall to the floor.
Revan opened his eyes to find himself within the prison corridor just outside his cell. The crystaline stone that glowed in his hand bursted, and aetheric mist shattered in all directions slowly fading into nothingness. He had looked around in complete disbelief. He had seen aetheric devices before, but little did he know that the very stone he held was the magical crystal itself. His gaze drifted to the end of the dark corridor warily, and he immediately looked around for something he could use as a weapon. There was nothing but a guard began to make his way towards Revan's cell from the other side of the corridor, and Revan knew he must get out of sight... but where? Nothing down the hall except for large iron cell doors. He looked up to the ceiling above him which was stone... but wooden rafters branched along it horizontally where the support beams would meet. He jumped up, hand catching on to one, and pulls himself up to the top, remaining quiet and as still as he could in the darkness of the rafter, until the very guard walked to his cell door and beyond him. Revan lowered himself once more and moved slowly behind the guard who began to unlock Revan's cell. It was Min, the fat bastard himself.
As Min opened the cell door, he nearly couldn't breath when he saw Revan's empty chains. He immediately started to have a panic attack and reached down to his belt for his short sword. He would not find it there. He turned around immediately in confusion but only seconds after seeing Revan's face did his vision fade to black. The short sword slid under the man's chin and was driven up through his entire skull. Blood gurgled from Min's throat, unable to make so much as a sound. He falls back and collapses on the ground with a large thud. Revan quickly reaches down and starts patting Min's body down, until he finds the circlet of skeleton keys upon his belt, and rips it off quickly. He hurries back into his cell and moves from one prisoner to another, unlocking their shackles that restrained them.
"...Go... get out of here.." Revan commanded.
The elder man who spoke to him just moments ago looked up to Revan curiously and bewildered.
"...the gods... they favor you!... but... where will we go?" The old man asked.
"That isn't my problem, old man... now go." Revan said shaking his head. He cared little whether the others escaped or not but he knew the more prisoner's released, the more trouble for the guards... and the more successful he would be in escaping himself.
Revan moved up to the other cell doors and opened them, and unlocked the prisoners as quickly as he could By the time he had reached the third or fourth, two guards turned down the corridor and began shouting for help. The horde of prisoner's who were free overcame them and starting kicking, clawing, and beating the guards to death. There screams and grunts echoing through the prison. Now they gathered the weapons of the fallen guards and began to swarm down the corridors. Revan followed, but at a distance... now that chaos was beginning to unfold within the prison, he needed to walk the other direction. Instead of going through the passages that led down within the fortress, he turned the other way of the corridor, that led to a tower of stairs that ascended high into what was likely a watch tower.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - DAISHI - 06-25-2010
Well, now this was just damned irritating.
He should have taken off sooner. He'd known that. Now the citadel was going to hell. The prison break that had started in the upper western prison wing had started to spread to the entirety of the prison, moving to other wings, and of course the lazy, unprepared membership of the guard corps was being killed by actual, ruthless murderers. Apart from their superior technology, many of those here had grown soft.
Not all, of course. And there were a few, most among the commanders of the prison, who even Kain would not want to take on lightly. They'd get this riot under control at some point, once they reorganized, and once some of the more vicious of the guards and commanders got into the mix. Right now though, people were being released left and right, fighting was breaking out in the middle of the halls, and in general, all chaos was spreading from the top down as prisoners attempted their escape. That was suicide, though. Even should they reach the base floor, there'd be an entire squad of crack enforcers under good leadership organized by then. Down was a dead end, at least via the main routes. There were other ways. Some could attempt escape via the towers, or they might stumble on some of the secret paths that lead out to the face of the prison and down to the plains far below. Risky, but no more so than going headfirst into waiting defenders.
There were the witless and then there were murderers, and he knew the difference. At one point he'd spotted the old man from Revan's cell. The man had paused, holding a club over his head as if he'd use it on Kain. Kain had only waved him off, instructing him on where to go to possibly escape the fortress. The old man had looked at him gratefully, he and his companions streaking off.
Then there were the murderers. There were indeed some bloodthirsty members here in the prison, few as notorious as Revan, but one that came to mind as among the most fierce. The man was Bernard Beltwater, but everyone among the guards and the prisoners called him Goobbue. The man stood a full foot taller than the tallest Hyur and was as wide as five men. They'd brought him in with multiple chains on his arms, which were secured behind his back. He'd been a slathering disaster of a man, face mauled, screaming obscenities. The guy had killed, and killed ruthlessly. And worst, he had it out for Kain. It had been Kain, after all, who'd been the man who'd put him in his cage, undid the locks and then fought the man unconscious after he'd tried to immediately bumrush Kain.
He shook his head, watching as two men rushed at him. Murderers. Their eyes were all full of rage and death, and they were looking to take it out on any guard they found. Beyond them were the bodies of a few men, slaughtered. The criminals were coming at him with swords and, sighing, Kain put both hands to the axe at his back and brought it downwards, loping off the head of the first man before putting the pommel of the weapon into other's jaw. There was a loud crack as bone broke, blood popping up into the air, Kain moving swiftly to bring his blade up. It caught the man through the neck as well, the body falling aside.
Just like training. He continued into the beckoning prison hall beyond, stepping into the maelstrom. Prison guards wrestled and fought against a horde of prisoners now armed and ready. At this point the match seemed about even, no thanks to the lousy training of the local constabulary. Kain, out of both his sense of honor and obligation to the contract he'd signed with the empire, as well as the small amount of affection he'd grown for these prison guards over the last few months, assisted in the brawl. Where a man was being put to his heels, Kain stepped in, downing the guilty prisoner. Where another was hard pressed with the blade, again Kain would move in.
It was everywhere though, the dark, dank halls becoming a chaotic mess of combat. He pushed his way through it all. He attacked no prisoner who did not attack him, unless out of some obligation to the men they fought, though he left some of the guards - the worst and most despicable of the lot - to their fates.
He wasn't sure what the rest of the guards were thinking he was up to, but he certainly wasn't pushing into the thickest of the riots in order to help. He was looking for a way out of the prison himself.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-26-2010
Its had been what seemed an eternity when Revan reached the very top of the tower stairs, ascending into a room with six guards who likely did not even know the chaos that was going on from the depths below. They had two were conversing, two others were manning the Ballista that overlooked the coast of the sea that sat on one side, and the other two were crossbowman on the opposite side, looking out over the rest of the fortress and the plains in the distance. The stairs lead him closest to the two crossbowman, and they were not facing the stairway entrance. Revan's only chance of surviving would be taking them by suprise. Revan darted up the stairs even quicker into a full sprint, the closest man turning his way as the noise became known to him. Revan cocked his fist back just as the man turned and drove it into his groin. As the man, slumped down in pain, Revan clotheslined his neck, and cradled him back into him, using him as a humanshield. Revan's freehand, reaches to the crossbow which the guard held in his right hand and held his hand against his, aiming it upward towards the other crossbowman who now looked their way, and loosing the bolt. It flew true and pierced his neck.
Just as soon as the bolt was released, Revan pulled his second hand up to the man's jaw and turned his head until he heard a loud crack. Just as he let go, he reached to the shortsword that was sheathed on the guard's belt, and withdrew it, simultaneously as his body slumped to the floor lifelessly. By now, the remaining four guards had unsheathed their weapons and started making their way towards Revan. Revan quickly ran to the other fallen soldier an unsheathed his weapon as well, then sprinted to the closest two, before they could overcome them with the force of all four. He swung his left blade, crashing it hard into the guards sword, the second blade catching the man's neck and spliting it wide open. Just as the first guard fell, the second one lunged forward, blade crashing down towards Revan. Revan swiftly held his swords in an X shape and caught the blade between them, and delivered a hard brutal kick to the man's groin. Just as the guard slumps down, Revan pushes the guardsman's sword back and follows through with his elbow across his face. The guard turns and falls to the floor at the blow, and just as he tries to get back to his feet, steel rips through his chest cavity, digging into the stone floor as Revan's blade sinks into his back.
Revan withdraws the sword from the man's flesh pushing his body away from his blade with his foot, and the other two look at Revan hesitantly. Just seeing four of their comrades bested by one man likely was not good for their morale. "Leave now, and I will spare you." Revan demanded, sensing their fear in their eyes. They did not seem like very seasoned guards, which perhaps is why they were left to the watch towers, far away from where dealing with the prisoners actually was. They looked at each other and nodded, quickly running to the other end, keeping what distance they could from Revan, and hurrying quickly down the stairs in a panic.
Revan was breathing heavily, he drops the two swords and wipes the sweat off of his brow, steping closer to the short stone wall that the Ballista was mounted upon, taking a look at the deep blue sea that was just beyond the cliff, he stood their thinking for a long moment of how he would clear the cliffside, the sea seeming like the only chance of making it... and even then, the impact of the water would be stunning. Now he had taken a short rest deciding on his final course of action.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - DAISHI - 06-28-2010
Kain shook his head at the sound of a bellowing roar that erupted from the lower wings.
"Well isn't that just pleasant," he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "They've got Guytrain on the loose."
If there was a man to be outright, truly fearful of, it was Guytrain. The two of them had never gotten along, to be expected as they were both warriors with pride. Guytrain recognized Kain as something different from many of the other guards, and Kain recognized Guytrain as someone not to be fooled with, at threat to one's life. When the dust settled, and the riot had been put down and Guytrain took an account of the men, he'd see Kain was gone. And when that happened, Kain had to be as far away from the citadel as possible. Guytrain hadn't been appointed to captain of the guard here for his good looks, which he certainly had none of.
He chuckled to himself even as he heard the pounding of footsteps coming from a doorway towards the rear of the prison wing, two of the less impressive guards rushing downwards and into the blood stained hall that Revan had once been imprisoned in. The lead man collided face first into Kain, who absorbed the blow like a stone wall, sending the man stumbling backward. The guard's face shot upwards for a moment, shocked, until he realized who he was looking at.
"Kain!" he cried, breathing heavily, a sign of his lack of any training regiment. "A man... a prisoner escaped!"
Kain's fingers went to his forehead, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. "Look around you, idiot," he said, waving a hand around the room, its many cells open and bodies dead on the floor. "All the prisoner's have escaped. They've already moved into the lower halls, where you two should be, helping secure the exits."
"But the man above...!"
"What are you two going to do about it?"
They looked at each other, then to him. "Perhaps you could take care of him?"
"For the empire," he said, feigning pride even as his face twisted in disgust beneath the mask. "Head below or by the gods, at least find a place to hide so you don't end up skewered. Got that?"
They nodded, rushing past him and towards the end of the prison wing. Kain moved on, shaking his head, his Great Axe secured between his hands. "Always be prepared," he mumbled to himself, truly not knowing what state this prisoner would be in. It was silly to think it would be anyone else but Revan, probably one of the few who'd had the intelligence not to head into the death pits below. Guytrain would see to it that there'd be a good number of dead, though Kain was leaning towards believing a few would escape, most likely Goobbue among them.
His feet were carrying him quickly up the stairs now, and though the soft pad of his cloth boots reduced most of the sound, Revan was no spring chicken. The man had strong senses. Kain's left hand let go of the grip of his axe a moment, reaching under the cloth of his right glove, where a single brilliant stone shimmered. He would have loved if it were Aetherite, but no such luck. Still, he felt reassured that it was there, for reasons all his own. His steps were bringing him towards the top now, approaching the roof of the watch tower.
"May the Mother Sun stand between you and harm, in all the dark places you may go," he whispered, a prayer from a time of which he no longer had memory. Then, he emerged upwards into the uttermost room of the watch tower.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-28-2010
Revan had been looking around the tower quickly, looking for answers, and finding few, then his eyes turn once more to the Ballista that faced the Northern Sea. His eyes trailed down seeing the bolt attached to a rope, that was long and coiled behind it. It seemed to be some sort of anti-siege device. Something to repel or damage ships should they try to attack from the coastal waters. He picked up a dagger from one of the dead bodies and moved over, cutting the end of the rope that was coiled among a giant iron spool. He looks out to the ocean, closing his eyes. He did not know what to expect should he follow through with the crazy plan that was going through his head. Likely much pain, probably even death.
His eyes turned to the stairwell, his ears telling him something was coming. It would have been shouldered off easily as paranoia, except such was confirmed as Kain ascended from the stairs seconds after. Revan immediately looked towards the ballista lever and out towards the sea. He could risk dying by the waters, or risk dying by the man's axe. Pride however was slowly getting the best of him. He drops the rope to the floor atop its coil and reaches down to the sword he had dropped earlier, it's once shiny blade, darkened with crimson. Slowly, he turned to Kain, dark cold eyes resting upon his.
"...You come alone. Not all here are cowards?..." He slowly steps closer to Kain, remaining about fifteen feet away from him. He raises the tip of his sword pointing it to one body, and slowly to another dead guard, the tower floors stained with blood and gore. He finally raises the tip of the sword in Kain's direction, the blade held out far infront of him. "...bravery, however, will not keep your blood from spilling..."
His eyes rest upon Kain, waiting for the man to either reply or make a move towards him.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - Nanapariri - 06-29-2010
The blonde Hyur girl sat up straight in her isolated cel as she heard the commotion of guards leaving the isolated corridor. Rushing to the heavy door she pressed face against the bars and listened. Her mind instantly alert she peered into the dankness as the footfalls came closer. The figure of a man ran by but he wasn't a guard and Nikkita saw her chance.
"Help! Let me out please...." she wailed mornfully as he disappeared passed her and went outside.
The girl cursed under her breath but tried not to let her anger surface knowing it wouldn;t win her the prize of freedom. She wasn't about to let this opportunity go by without it so she shouted louder pouring as much desperation as she could into her shouts. If this man was like so many others he couldn't resist a damsel in distress. She was certain her years of isolation would give her a pathtic appearance, just as she was certain she hadn't lost her beauty, she willed herself to muster tears in her blue eyes as she shouted.
(yay it will be fun to slip into another version of this character at least for a while. lol)
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - GaelicWarlord - 06-29-2010
((Going to have to Retcon this a bit - so going to rewind for just a second))
Revan's ears perked at the sound of a woman, young and under distress. His eyes wandered to the cell door that she rested in and then looked to the guards who were rushing to the stairs below. 'She'd never have a fair chance.' Revan thought to himself. And likely, it was true. Even if the Guards did not catch her, women were especially were endangered. If it wasn't a guard who would capture her, it could have been worse, like one of the crazed prisoners. Revan didn't have time to baby sit someone, he coldly looked forward and kept on walking by, though what bit of heart he had, sunk slightly as he did so.
The old man he released earlier moved to her cell and whispered quietly after many minutes later, and he had pulled forward a large set of skeleton keys, and unlocked her cell. "Come quickly child!" It was clear that whoever this old man was, he had not spoiled over the years as Revan did, so to speak. "We must be silent..." He glanced around for the secret passage that the strange guard had shown him earlier. Pressing against the walls in a very dark corridor. Finally a stone pressed inward, and the wall moved open. "...the gods have blessed us this day." He whispers quietly as he begins to walk down the dark narrow passage that went deep down into the depths of the prison foundation.
Re: Four Cold Walls [Request] - Nanapariri - 06-29-2010
(Fixed. Sorry for the misunderstanding) Nikkita bowed her head demurely whispering a few "thank yous" despite being told to be quiet as that would be expected of a young vulnerable woman. She set in set behind the old man as he caught up to the man further down the hall where they seemed to find a secret passage. Carefully she stopped stepping-up behind the old man just off to the side so she could study the face of the two escapee she hoped would guarantee her escape.
As they ducked into the passage and headed down. "Since the guards were careful to isolate me I must rely on thier knowing tthe way out of this place unfortunately," she thought as he eyes adjusted to the dimming light. She hated not knowing they way out herself since if she lost him she'd have to find the way out herself. If he did he wasn't expendable, if the situation called for it, until she got outside. She needed if he was the despensible one was.
The old man seemed plain and perhaps harmless as he turned to her giving her a fatherly smile. She returned it.
"Old man do you know if its possible to get out this way?" she whispered trying to sound as innocent as possible. She hoped she was as good at playing heart strings as she used to be. After all she'd been keep in a cel of solitary confinement for a year and a half when she had nearly suceeded in getting a guard to help her escape.