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+--- Thread: Restless Nightmares {Closed} [OOC Welcome] (/showthread.php?tid=12138)
Restless Nightmares {Closed} [OOC Welcome] - Asmodean - 06-18-2015
The midlander had finally forced himself to sleep. Taking up the lance was has the man needed to finally tire himself out. Asmodean toss and turned a bit as he sat against the Lifemend Stump. The training lance was bloody and a few yalms from his reach. Thick bags formed under his eyes, clearly showing he had not gotten a wink of sleep in a number of suns. A few mumbles escaped his mouth but never too loudly.
His resting mind was far more chaotic then the peaceful forest he currently slept. Snow, blood and plums of smoke filing the sky. Asmodean looked about himself, wondering how he was arrived in Coerthas, let alone deep down in the witch drop. He wearing his heavy fighter armor and even had his trusty Eisentaenzer. None of this made any sense to the mindlander. However, as the smell of smoke and iron slowly came to his nose, it began to matter less as to him something was worse then his confusion. The man made for the trail leading back up to Dragonhead, only to be greeted by the sight of the once mighty stronghold in ruins.Â
He entered the camp quickly only to find bodies strewn about the grounds, many bearing signs of claws marks or slashing marks.
"There... there is no way dragons could do this and escape without so much as not losing one of their number." He said to himself looking about. No bodies of any kind of dragon kin wore viable but scales littered the ground. He made his way towards the keep but already knew it to be too late. Thick bellows of blackened smoke flowed out the broken remains of the wooden door. Asmodean shook his head before turning to look up at the Aetheryte, his gaze moving from the crystal to the battlement of the high walls. More bodies and blood, not a single sign of life.
The midlander started to check the bodies for a plush but as he wandered from one to the next, his only reward was to bloody his armor. Asmodean sighed, never thinking he might see Dragonhead in such a state. But not all seemed lost as he noticed a set of tracks leading to Whitebrim. The warrior seeing nothing he could do here set out to find whoever made that tracks, but paused only just outside of walls of Dragonhead. more then two dozen corpse of dragons lay, craved to pieces by blade and not fell by lance.
THe way the remains lay made it seem they wore running or trying to get away. Asmodean began to wonder.
What wore the running from?
((OOC: I'm still quite rusty as a writer so any pointers to help better myself are more then welcome, be it pm or post here. This is going to a two part story for my character as a way to lead him to Ishgard after the last two event he has been a part of. Had this already typed out so I figure let some people read it can tell me where I can improve before writing the rest after I return from work.))
RE: Restless Nightmares {Closed} [OOC Welcome] - Asmodean - 06-19-2015
Asmodean had little time to wonder as followed the tracks. Signs of fighting wore clear from the bloody snow along with more bodies. However the signs started to add up in a odd way for the hyur.Â
The two sides had not attacked the other but more attacked by something else. As he walked the Gates of Judgement came into view, a battle still going on. Asmodean swung his ax from his back and rushed to get a better view of what was happening.
He saw three Ishgardian fighting a single opponent armed with a ax. Whoever it was also wearing a similar armor as Asmodean was.
The midlander tried to close the distance quickly but due to the snow he stumbled and lost time. He watched as the soldiers ware quickly cut down, the killer's ax cleaving through their armor as if it was nothing more then paper. The armored form looked out at Asmodean, ironclad head tipping to the side, almost in a questioning manner. As Amsodean neared he slowed himself, watching the killer. He wasn't sure who or what he was facing, so it was best to be careful.Â
"So the boy thinks himself a man... funny." The armor form spoke as he watch the midlander. "Still lost and forgotten. He hunts for something, yet he knows not."
"I have no idea who you are, or why you think you know me..." Asmodean tried to speak before being cut off.
"You wore not told to speak. After all, how can one so lost know what he speaks." A smirk crossed the killer's face. Asmodean scowled, the man's words doing nothing but to annoy him. He readied his ax for an attack before the person spoke again.
"Now the boy thinks himself a soldier. Lost and no one to help. How funny to watch as you struggle." Asmodean attacked in anger to quite the man as well as try to catch him off guard. The armored warrior simply step back, a laugh escaping him.
"Blind to the dream, blind to the enemy and blind to himself. A fool if there was everyone." The warrior didn't move to attack, but to step back further away. Asmodean would finally notice something odd about the man. His eyes wore black, obsidian orbs. The midlander stepped back watching him again trying to understand what he was fighting.Â
"Now the boy questions... too late for answers. The question aimed in the wrong direction." The warrior reached one handed for his visor, and slid it up. Asmodean was on shocked. It was like looking at a mirror, just with few slight different. His scars, the brown and gray hair even his shape of his face was the same. All that was different was the blacken orbs he had for eyes and a odd blacken mist that started to emanate. Asmodean stepped back, not sure what to do.
"Fear.... the oldest and purest feeling boy. You are not the first to fear me. I doubt you will be the last." He took at step towards Asmodean but he didn't rise his ax. He loosened the chain on his left arm and flung it at the midlander. Asmodean reacted simply lifting his he arm and blocked the chain thinking he was trying to wrap him up. He didn't notice the spiked tip until it ripped thought his gauntlet and hand entirely. Asmodean fell backwards pulling himself away from the killer.
"A pact... One she became infatuated with for a time. What will your fate be, I wonder? Become a killer like her... or let those friends try to keep you....you?" The blacken eye man asked before pulling the chain back painfully.
The shock woke Asmodean up. He looked about himself, expecting to see the snow and blood covered highlands but sighed as he saw the forest of the shroud. He looked to the sky and saw it was night with the moon high in the sky. He must of been asleep close to half a sun, the man assumed. He looked at the lighter leather armor he was wearing before reaching for the lance off to his side. As he closed his hand, he winched in pain.
I was asleep.... there is no way. He thought as he removed the glove from his right hand. A bleeding wound sat in the middle of his palm with a matching wound on the back of his hand. He pulled a cotton cloth from his travel pack and wrapped the wound in disbelief. Asmodean got to his feet still starring at his hand. He grabbed the lance with his good hand before noticing a few letters. He scooped them up and started on his way back to Gridania. He looked at his hand confused by it and the dream. He shook his head.
Lack of sleep was what caused that... must of grabbed the lance head in my sleep He thought trying to reassure himself. he didn't then think about how the glove wasn;t damaged or bloody. He couldn't.
As he walked the looked at the letters, one was about the gathering he had spoke at, the others a massage from House Fortemps. The notes help him forget the nightmare and the taunting voice for a time.
Blind. Once a fool always a fool. A voice echoed in the back of his head. Asmodean needed help... but who could he trust?