A forgotten soul

Number of posts : 4 Registration date : 2011-03-11

I sensed movement nearby so I opened Ronald’s eyes. The Good Samaritan was slowly dancing with her eyes closed near us. Ronald my host and I were on a bed in a room with a small brazier burning for heat. Her pushed back chair showed to me that she had kept a vigil over my host’s body. I am very hungry; the night’s ordeals had left me wanting. This would be an excellent meal, her soul will be delicious.

As I gazed to her through Ronald’s eyes, I noticed a tear upon her cheek. The small and subtle movement she was making was a spirited dance, held back fiercely. This prey might make for some fun. I am to sow chaos, so why not start here instead of a quick meal.

Carefully I extended myself out through Ronald’s nose and open mouth. My shimmering black gloomy fog like tendrils unfurled towards her as I stayed rooted inside of my host. Finally reaching her, my touch is cold and unnoticed for her concentration upon whatever thought or memory that was in her head. Slowly, I poured my fingers into her, my receptors reaching her mind and soul. Images starting to flood into me, as my tendrils started to root hard into her.

She was dancing furiously a native dance in a private setting with a man watching her with a smile. I know this kind of smile, a smile of love; I could feel her love for him as well. They were married. She spoke to him. “I cannot live without thee, sweet....Time bids us now our love complete.”

The man only nodded with a playful grin on his lips.

I will come back to this soon to take advantage of her. Searching I dig at her memories, recent and from long past. Moving through her memories quickly like a scholar searches for the just right tome he is looking for. I found three things instantly in her short term memories worth note. She is the Lady in waiting to the Queen of this realm. This will be fun indeed, the chaos I will have her do will spread nicely in such a high place in the realm.

Secondly, she had done a reading of tarot cards before I came to her doorway and she believed that my host and she were fated to be lovers. Laughing to myself, I knew this would come in handy.

Thirdly, the damn Thorn, himself is still here in this Kingdom. I had thought he would move to wherever he had come from. Not stay here. Had his escape from Hell been on purpose in coming here? The Thorn has a name as well it seems as I gleaned more from her.

Vex. Ha! Many demons and Devils would agree that the name he bears suits him. Digging closer to this information I; a wraith of Hell, searched for more about Vex that this woman knows of him. Carefully I flickered through her head and soul; my touch numbing the victim to my foreboding presence, searching would barely be noticed as she now was locked in her daydream.

She did not trust Vex fully, yes, but she did know of his connection to the holy pigeons. Suddenly I was pulled back into her daydream. Only pure force of emotion could do this. The images surged to me, the scene was different, and one of love was gone, to one of sadness and powerful grief. Her husband was dead, afore her. She was broken on the inside. I could feel this pit in her, she would a fine temptation. Reading her soul’s balance he noted that she was not without sin but she was far from evil at all. Bringing her to sin and damnation would be an earmark for me if ever returned to Hell.

I set my tendrils into her dream, shaping it like dough to the images I wanted. I brought the memory of her lovely dance for her husband back and intensified the feelings she had of love for him. Watching outside of the dream I could see the dance better. Her quick movements and gyrations of her body quickly would give any mortal, demon, or devil thoughts of lust. Her curvaceous body and ample visions of flesh enticed myself to feelings of bubbling lust.

Lust would be the first sin I would tempt her into. Her unresolved grief for her dead husband left an easy path for me to corrupt her. Every time in the dream she would look to her husband he would be there. However alternating from the smiling husband looking to her with love to the dead cold eyes she remembers.

Watching this used the rest of his body inside of Ronald as a puppeteer would to his puppet. Making the Knight stand and get up from the bed he was upon. Moving close to the daydreaming and dancing Lulu, I waited for the right moment. Knowing the pairing of this dance, and then having Ronald join her subconscious mind in dance here outside of her head, as she danced for her husband inside her head.

Looking back to the daydream I could see that she was breaking down, tears poured from her eyes every time she turned to see Hans dead. This is when I made him disappear altogether. She would turn and spin and see an empty chair. As she had done for many months now every time her grief for her dead husband was too much to bear.

I stressed the weight of the grief down on her. Making her really feel alone, closed off from anything. Love was gone.

Evilly I started the pattern over and over again. She was dancing for her husband again, but this time his face went from a living husband she knew to Ronald’s that she currently knows. Both Hans and Ronald were similar in size; both wore the garb of Knight’s in the service of the Church. I had the cards from the recent viewing flash over in her head, giving a certain emphasis.

Eventually she accepted this, her mind focusing on the cards she had read and the loneness she felt. Cruelly I brought her back to the dead form of her husband just out of her reach. I kept pulling him far from her sight slowly and I licked up the tears of her soul for him as she wept for his loss over and over again. I was being quite sated by this Romani morsel.

I began giving her the sense memories of the last few months of any lust transgressions she has had. Each poignantly for at least the length of the pleasure making the hole in her heart not ache with loneness and misery. Introducing this feeling would help sell the Sin in the end, her broken spirit and heart would I hope would entice her to fill the empty space with the fleeting pleasure that lust would bring.

I had Ronald begin to dance with her in perfect form as she. Her memories of another of her clan doing this danced helped me form the movements for Ronald’s body. The male half the dance my host was performing did its job as the dance was created for. Her body loosened up and accepted the touches and caresses of Ronald and they danced in unison together, one could not see where one body started or where the other ended. Sweating together the Lady in waiting Lovari would have a sexual build up of lust when she awakened.

Back inside her mental prison I formed, she seemed ready for me to awaken her. The line between the misery she felt alone and the mental blurred image of Hans and Ronald was at its height. She was vulnerable and frail for the temptation to finally happen. In an instant I withdrew myself from her and back into the dancing Ronald fully.

Watching her snap out of the dream but the emotions and fear left inside her, the last placed thought I left for her popped. Being with this Knight, would at least feel good. I could feel good at least for the moments I was with him.

We stopped the dance and looked to each other. I could see thoughts swirling inside her on her face. Free will sin would make my corruption that much sweeter. Falling for my temptation would leave her open to bouts of lust. A need for it would become an itch at first, but as the day wore on, she would have to have it. I would eat away a portion of her soul every time she sinned, and the balance would start to tip. I am weak compared to the brute and raw force as my devil and demon brethren. I however am the most dangerous to mortal’s soul.

When I am able to sow a Deadly Sin to a mortal’s soul, I am able to eat away the part of the soul linked to the good memory. I place the new corrupted memory in its place. Weighing the soul closer to black and making the victim more of a puppet to my temptations. If I am able to incite all the Deadly Sins in a mortal, I turn them into a shell containing a new wraith totally under my control. After a temptation was accepted the mortal would now be hooked on the sin it committed like a drug.

Of course I could just enter the body of a soul that is damned and eat it completely away and use it as a host. Not dead, if I would ever leave the body, eventually the victim would wake up alive but changed forever. No soul, no conscious, total freedom without recourse. Morals and Laws would mean nothing to him. He would do anything to do whatever he wanted. Now back to see if the Lady in waiting Lovari had fallen.

My answer was given when I had Ronald step back and sit on the bed, her face grew determined and I felt the dribbling of sin coming from her to me. I sucked each bite as they came. I knew the meal was coming very soon.

Through Ronald’s eyes I saw her close the door to the room and pull a string on the back of her clothes. Her dress fell to ground encircling around her feet and she stepped out of it toward us and the warm waters of the Deadly Sin of Lust ready at the bed. The acts I would get her to do in trying to fill the hole inside her will make the feathers of the holy pigeons fall off. The prudes.

Subject: Addict/Hook Fri Apr 15, 2011 8:02 pm

Night had fallen, and still her charge had not woken. The house was shrouded in darkness as Luludja made her way down to the spare room where she and her maid had been tending him. Silence greeted her, save for the crackling of the flames that burned low in the brazier she'd had placed near the foot of the bed. The room was still a bit cool, and her hands ran over her bare arms for a moment as she stepped near where the knight was resting.

She didn't understand. Why him? The cards had never lied to her before. There was so much these days that she didn't understand. Ever since Hans' death, she had felt a bit adrift. Shade had helped, her work had helped, her brother and dear sister-in-law had helped, the time spent with Bry had helped. She was finally coming to a place that she was becoming stable, ready once more to open herself to feeling for another. But now, this errant knight had showed up on her doorstep, literally. She turned away from him, stepping away in silence to add more kindling to the fire, stoking the heat.

For a long while, that was where she stood, watching the flames, and then her eyes closed as memories she had long kept in check washed over her, flooded through her. A night much like this one, though colder. The night she had first danced for Hans alone, outside her vardo. The scent of the burning logs brought her back, she could hear her voice lifted in song, as she unconsciously began to move. The movements were slow at first, a gentle swaying and nothing more. "I cannot live without thee sweet..."

The words rang in her mind and a tear slipped down her cheek as her body found the movements of that remembered dance, the lifting of her hands, the flaring of her skirts as she spun around the campfire. The room around her melted away, all that was left was the night and the fire, and the song she hummed. Now and then her gaze seemed to fall upon the knight, but she did not see him. As though a cocoon had wrapped its silken threads around her, she saw only the camp where she had danced, and Hans, the way he had looked as he had sat upon the cushions. A sudden sob broke through the hummed tune. "I cannot live without thee sweet.." Her body nearly stopped in its movements, her arms wrapping tightly around her middle, holding herself together as the memory of that horrible morning came pouring back to her. The letter, the look upon Murphy's face when he told her. Tears glistened upon her face in the firelight.

Slowly, her fingers trailed down along her bare arms, a remembrance of a touch long lost to her, as her memory began again to shift, she grasped at the tendrils of grief, but they were slipping away from her, like wisps of smoke between her fingers. She couldn't continue in this cycle of grief. The vision of her husband as she imagined him now, cold, lifeless, both eyes now blind instead of merely the one, twisted away from her to her relief, flooding back to the warm golden hair, the broad chest and back, his eyes so blue they rivaled the sky. She could see him there, sitting before her as she twisted around the brazier, a delicious sway to her rounded hips, her hands locked in her wild curls lifting them from her back, exposing the delicate floral tattoos that decorated her skin. Joy flooded her, to see him thus, desire flaring as it had that first night. Again the song rang in her thoughts. "...time bids us now our love complete."

Another turn and the pain returned. She barely managed to stifle a scream as the moldering visage was displayed in the dream her dance wove around her. "I cannot live without thee sweet..."

Faster, she spun, skirt flaring above the lick of the brazier's low flames. Anguish and joy, desire and revulsion taking their turns, shredding what was left of her heart. The wild gyration of her lithe body flung droplets of tears, droplets of sweat, sizzling upon the coals as her body coiled down to the ground, coming to a sudden stop in a low crouch, her body bent on itself. Her soft weeping the only sound as the words came back to her. "I cannot live without thee sweet..."

Her eyes lifted, bright and wild with despair, falling upon one who looked so like Hans through the sheen of her tears. He was watching her. She had thought him asleep, but now, he stood near, his eyes upon her olive skin where it was laid bare. Why had he come here, to her door? Why did the cards speak of him? She did not know him. She did not even know his name, or where he had come from. But he was there. And he looked so like Hans. She twirled out of the crouching position, uncoiling her body to its full height as she spiraled upward, hips and belly twisting in a slow undulation. She danced now for him. Or maybe it was still for Hans. She couldn't tell. One moment, she saw one knight, and then the other. "...time bids us now our love complete."

The card of the lovers twined in passionate embrace flashed before her eyes, remembering how it had lain beside the wounded knight, and the traveler from a far off shore. She knew that card well, it was not one of love, exactly, but consuming passion. Consuming.

Loneliness at times consumed her, as it did on this night. She was haunted by the face of her husband, and she instinctively twisted away whenever the face of the wounded knight took on a deathly pallor, then came back, dancing near, flitting around him, a caress of fingertips along his shoulders, the flare of her skirt brushing his knees. Closing her eyes brought nothing but pain and a fresh rush of hot tears to her lashes. She felt the shame of having given in, of having allowed temptation to sway her. Guilt stabbed through her soil as a lover's face flit before her eyes and they opened again, falling upon the wounded knight as he drew her to him, pulling her slender body against his, moving with her. She resisted him, but then through the blur of her tears she saw those rugged features, the golden beard she had so often caressed and her body yielded to his manipulation. Again, and again, she drew back as the knight's face became clear, and then allowed herself to be pulled in when the images blurred in her sight until she was no longer certain which face was real, and which was an illusion of her grief, and she surrendered, her lips resting but a breath away from his as they came to a sudden stop. "...time bids us now our love complete."

Her breath was quick and uneven, her full breasts heaving slightly beneath the sleeveless shift. She could see the desire in his eyes, or perhaps it was merely only what she wanted to see. She met his eyes, feeling as though she had just woken from a dream. She was suddenly very lucid, and cold. She was cold inside, though her skin burned, and she ached for only the slightest touch. She could have him, she knew. She could have him tonight.

Being with this Knight, would at least feel good. She could feel good at least for the moments she was with him. Could she? Could she give in? She didn't know herself until she watched him take a step back from her and lower upon the edge of the bed in clear invitation. "...time bids us now our love complete."

She could. And she would. She turned away from him, the light from the brazier dancing along her skin, casting a bronze glow upon it, a golden light shining on her raven hair as she gently closed the door and turned again to face him. There was no tremor of uncertainty, as her fingers reached for the tie of her shift, loosening it and letting it fall from her shoulders as she moved back to him with the faintest of whispers upon her lips, the first time she had spoken to him. "...time bids us now our love complete."

Subject: A Notation on Hook/Addict & Addict/Hook Fri Apr 15, 2011 8:47 pm

Just a notation regarding the two previous posts:
They were written to be read in conjunction, a single event from two different perspectives. Enjoy!

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Mon Apr 18, 2011 8:20 pm

((Wow!!!))

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Mon Apr 18, 2011 8:30 pm

(Incredible writing!!))

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Wed Apr 20, 2011 10:17 am

My compliments to you both. I was awed how seeing the incident from both angles helped to build the picture and to know the minds of both characters. Once again I have to say, I am so glad to be a part of such a talented group. :-)

Subject: Confrontation in the Courtyard (Addict/Hook) Wed Apr 27, 2011 11:55 pm

The sun was beginning to rise over the height of the walls when Zindelo spurred Parno along the cobbled streets of Meldrum City, casting it's golden light across the rooftops as he headed in the direction of his sister's town home. As he often was at court, he was attired as befit a leader of the Rroma, affecting a fashion similar to that of an inhabitant of Ottoman Rumelia: tall, black boots, with subtly pointed, upturned toes; loose-fitting black şalvar (trousers); a rich, red sash, overlapped by a decorated belt, in which his Rrôm Baro blade and a bone-handled yatagan were housed; a white shirt, and a wine-toned cepken (a collarless, short-cut coat, with open armholes and sleeve panels, attached only on the upper part of the shoulders) with elaborate gold embroidery and trim, its sleeves thrown back. Today, he was not seeking Luludja as her brother, and no smile found his lips as he neared the front gate where he dismounted. His expression was rather one of stern solemnity as his black eyes flashed toward one of the sentries that stood outside the door of her home, and he gave a nod as he moved toward the entrance after securing the reins of the majestic white stallion he rode.

The sentry outside the door halted him at the step, a slightly apologetic look given to Zindelo as the man explained that Luludja had insisted she would receive no visitors that she did not explicitly invite herself, and as they had been given no word of his impending arrival, they had only to assume that he was not invited.

Zindelo's eyes glared with a dangerous light as he regarded the men at Luludja's door. What sort of game did his sister think she was playing at? He pushed his shoulders back as a thick, black eyebrow rose, and he tucked his thumbs into the sash at his waist. His expression became more severe as he regarded the first sentry and jerked his thumb at the door. "Rouse her. Her Rrôm Baro requires her presence."

He strode away from the door and returned to his mount, leading Parno into the courtyard beyond the gate where the stables could be accessed, an angry set to his down-turned lips. There was something wrong with how Luludja had been acting. As offended as he was by her demeanor in court, he knew with surety that there was more than met the eye in the way she comported herself. Too, she had never closed her door to him before, had never closed her door to any. That he was now barred entrance did not bode well.

After the sentry had brought her word of Zindelo's arrival, Luludja glanced out of her window from the second floor, eying her brother as he led the horse into her stable yard. The slightest movement of her curtain betrayed her presence. He seemed to be in fine array today, and so she sought to emulate his formality in her own dress, though it took her some time. She had sent her maids away to Car Zeneśa some days before, and so had to dress herself in her rich gown, the lacing drawn tight. There was no reason she couldn't tease her guards a little on her way out, she considered. She turned toward the form of Ronald in her bed, the sheet draped over his body, and a slow smile curved her lips. He didn't need to hear whatever it was her brother had to say. She figured it would be some reprimand or another for her behavior. She was tempted to simply return to her bed, but for the moment, she was sated, and she turned toward the door, closing it firmly behind her before she headed down to the courtyard. She gave each of her guards a coy smile as she eased past them, her kohl rimmed lashes demurely lowering as she sauntered off toward the stable yard. She paused when she reached her brother, and curtsied out of respect for the capacity that he had come in. "My Lord." She said.

Zindelo observed the arrival of his sister with an unchanging expression. His jaw tightened slightly when he noted her blatant flirtation with the guards who were charged with her protection. His arms slowly crossed over his chest when she curtsied before him, his black eyes staring down at her coldly. He dispensed with English and spoke to her in the tongue of their own people, reminding her that she was still of the Rroma, and it was her Rrôm Baro that stood before her, not a Count, nor her brother and protector. "Luludja, you are walking a dangerous way. Your exhibition at court was unacceptable behavior, flaunting yourself before the King and other men of the nobility; good men, married men." He motioned to the way she was dressed even now, nearly spilling out of the top of her dress, her face made-up like that of a courtesan. "You display yourself shamelessly. Perhaps, you no longer have any shame? Instead, you give your shame to your family, to your people, to your very son. Do you think he is ignorant of what you have been doing? Rumor of your exhibitions have reached us even in Vatra. Do you think of your son, who must defend his mother's name when others call her a whore? I looked the other way when you took a lover, knowing your loneliness, and trusted to your discretion. But this?!" His voice was raising, as he paced angrily before her, turning to punctuate his last words. "You defy the Rromaníya (Rroma codes of conduct)!"

Luludja listened to Zindelo in silence, parts of his words were breaking through to her, particularly when he spoke of her son, but a fog was settling upon her mind, wrapping it in caressing tendrils. What did she care what others thought? She was her own woman, she could be with any man she wished. What business was it of his? Her eyes closed for a long moment, blocking him out, a small, dreamy smile appearing upon her lips, and then a stab of pain-like longing coursed through her. Her eyes glanced upward toward the second floor window. She just had to get rid of Zindelo and she could return to her room and the knight that slept there. Tell him what he wants to hear, the thought came to her. Lie.

Her dark head slowly bowed, hiding the faint curve at the corner of her mouth. She had never lied to Zindelo before, so she knew he would not suspect her of it now. "I know I was wrong, Rrôm Baro. I apologize for my indiscretion. It is only that I am so lonely since Hans died. I am alone. My son is with you, and you and Aly are so far away in Vatra. Shade has a new lover to keep him amused. Why should I not take a lover? You had your share of them, before you met Aly. I know it was wrong to display myself so at Court. I will not do it again. You have my word."

Zindelo scoffed. Did she think he was a fool? "Your word is worth little at the moment, Luludja. What shall I do with you? Declare you maxrime (defiled, unclean)? Expel you from our people once more?" He shook his head, exasperated by her demeanor and seeming contrition, though he did not believe it for a moment. His hard hands closed around her upper arms, and he shook her. "What is wrong with you?! Familíya, Vítsa, Nátsiya, Luludja! You are turning your back on them all!"

Luludja gasped when he grabbed her, and struggled against his grasp, her bright eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "Let go of me!" She snarled at him. "Or I shall call my guards. You may be Rrôm Baro, and you may be my brother, but you will not lay your hands on me so!" She screamed at him in Rromani.

Zindelo released her arm with one hand, drawing it back with an impulse to slap her, but he restrained himself. He could not do such a thing. Swallowing back his ire, he reminded her of the consequences of her past instead.

"Was it not I who pitied you once, Luludja, at the threat of my own life? Is this how you would thank me?! By betrayal?!" His own black gaze was livid, and he gave a sharp whistle, summoning Parno, who was cropping at the grass growing through the cracks of the courtyard's stones. He swung himself into the saddle, and looked down at Luludja. He hardly recognized her. What had happened to his little sister?

"I leave you with two choices, Luludja of the Lovári: Gather your things and travel to Vatra. There, you will live for a time sequestered with your people, relearning their ways, remembering who you are and where you come from. Or I shall declare you maxrime, and you will be shunned by the Rroma once more. You have three days. Choose wisely."

Without another word, he nudged Parno and rode out through the gate of the residence, his anger spurring him to greater and greater speed as he rode out through the streets of the city. The stormy expression of the swarthy man's face sent people ducking from his path, scurrying to avoid the hooves of his horse as he galloped toward the city gate and rode toward the north.

An hour into his journey, he finally slowed his mount, and then brought him to a stop beside a standing pool where Parno could drink and rest. He slipped from the saddle and crouched down by the pool. His anger was deflated and his broad shoulders drooped slightly as he cupped a hand in the water and scrubbed it over his dusty face. He lifted his head, drawing in a lung full of the fresh air, letting the coolness of the breeze dry the water upon his dusky skin before he looked down at the surface of the water. There in the reflection, though younger and less lined, his father's face stared back at him.

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Thu Apr 28, 2011 12:13 am

((Oooo Luludja's in Troooooble!! Can't wait for more!))

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Sat Apr 30, 2011 10:08 am

((I'm with Ali. This is awesome! Luludja, choose wisely. ;-) ))

Number of posts : 19 Registration date : 2011-02-27

At my desk I look for any missing piece of paperwork that missed my dutiful eye. Not seeing one brought a smile to me. This was going to be a quiet day for once. No, robberies, fights, or swindling came across my desk in the form of paperwork and complaining citizens. The men under my command have been restless all day. They even formed a mishmash game involving a wad of parchment and the act of throwing it into a pale of some type. Perhaps I will dazzle them with my skills of frivolous game mastery.

One last signature and I will call it a day and just do that, join them in their antics. Dipping my quill in its pot, refilling it for my stylish swirling signature, I heard a door open in the next room. Just as I put quill to parchment and the tip snapped I just knew that the day was not going to finish quiet.

Cries of women and children poured through the cracks around my door, filling my office with their cries of grief. Looking out the nearest window I check the position of the Sun. Just under the horizon, its rays slowly being squashed out by the oncoming blanket of night. Could I escape out the back door? Leave these troubles for another day? No. I would resist this urge. My duty, my honor will remain unblemished by doing just what my Superior promoted me to do. Being the Watch Commander of Church District of Meldrum City was very prestigious and had its perks. I would not wish to lose all that I have earned.

I could hear the men in the next room trying to get the people to calm down and tell whatever story they had. I tried to listen in to the ongoing pandemonium in the next room.

“My..mymmmmy Father, he’s burning..burned.” a fear soaked woman wept.

“My Angus, dumb stupid oaf he is, is dead. Burning with the other two.” Another woman plainly stated as matter of fact.

“Ian, sir is. Was. My brother. The three of them burned together. The dark man. I saw him light the pyre at their feet. I will never forget that man!” a young man’s forceful voice carried over the others said.

“He was tall, his arm and hand was bandaged, and that blue tattoo on his face. I swear it glowed as he lit the wood afire.” The three of them in unison yelled.

Three men dead, burned alive in my district, in no way am I going to stand for this. I quickly found a new quill and feverishly wrote down the details I had overheard on a new parchment. Then I copied it to another parchment. Sealing the folded parchments with the mark of my office, I stood and took the notes and moved to the door opening it quickly.

“Roger! Deliver these immediately to the Head Commander of the Watch and the other to Defense Minister MacDraven.” I said as I passed the notes to him. “People CALM DOWN! I will listen to all of you in an orderly manner in my office. I want all the details you all know. We will catch this man. I swear to IT. I BLOODY God damn Swear it!”

“You heard Captain Miller! Make a line.” My second in command shouted.

Turning back into my office I awaited the first witness.

Earlier just as the wood start to burn

I pulled myself back out of the woman. Just as I had with the woman and the young man before her, altered her memories just slightly, adding just one important detail. I had positioned Ronald perfectly to hide most of his identifying marks. Seeing the Thorn in Luludja’s mind, I knew he was bandaged as well on the left arm and hand, just as Ronald was. Both similar in height, I just added that glowing Angelic to the witnesses memories. Let the Thorn feel some heat while I play. One last tasty tidbit I pulled from Luludja’s mind before I left her this morning, a memory of the Thorn in great pain. He seemed to be run through with a spear, but there was no spear in him at all. It was then I put two and two together and realized that the Thorn had some connection to a person I had killed. The younger priest was run through with a spear, by my partner of sorts. The Thorn will feel the bite of my doings many more times for now on.

With that I shove the three of them out of the alley to where I have the three men burning on crosses. I noticed the state of the air through Ronald’s nose, their burning flesh and hair making it hard to keep down any meal these meat suits may have ingested. Smiling as the orange glow the setting sun really made my visible display of a torturous death really pop with emphasis. It took a good amount of magic to hide the men and the pyre here in the outskirts of Meldrum City. Draining my energy almost to nothing, I was in need of a feeding.

With that I retreated into the dark lined shadows of the city. I had a date tonight with one stop on the way to see a priest. After we talked about our next step, I would be off to the Romani morsel. She would be primed for offering me another meal.

Just before the pyres were lit far just inside the city limit.

My day had proven so far to be a pleasant one. I borrowed a horse from NyteWynd’s stable to venture out into the surrounding lands looking for yellow wildflowers. Following a small creek upstream I came to small waterfall. The rocky cliff side jaunted from the green hillside as if giants were pushing the rock from under the earth trying to escape prisons that held them below. At the top of the cliff I saw the items I was looking for. A small bunch of yellow wildflowers were growing from a grassy outcrop of soil and they after an interesting climb would be mine. I knew of a little lady and her mother that would have their day brighten by these bright yellow flowers.

Sniffing the air, allowing the fresh water cleaned air up through my nose I began my climb up the rock face. After only two steps up, my feet began to tickle with a slight burn. Shaking off the curious feeling at my feet I began to move left slightly on the rocks overhanging the small pool of water filled by the waterfall. All of the sudden, the burning sensation increased three fold. My eyes went wide as the scorching pain made my eyes water so much I could not see the rocks I was clutching. Screaming as the grip of the burning pain shot up my legs to my waist, I let go of one hand hold I had. Not now, no please.

I could not bear it any longer, releasing my last hold I plummeted the some twenty feet below into the frigid snow melt water of spring. Sinking fast the only thing I could hold on to in my head was that three people were being burn alive at the same time. The fires of unjust death were almost fully consumed them at this moment. I hit my head hard as the depth of the pool was not deep sending me into what I hoped fruitlessly would be unconsciousness without the pain of burning to death three times over, but in reality the dark of the sleeping mind would not hold back the cost of my debt.

Three days later I would open my eyes to the harsh rays of the noonday sun. My water soaked body riddled with wrinkles from waterlog had a stench that would produce a health vomit into the sandy water wash of the waterfall some fifty feet downstream. The horse I rode was nowhere to be seen as I scanned my surroundings. I tried to lift my left arm, finally before my trip mostly healed, but not after my spill into the pool bloodied and bruised to a regal purple. Light-headed I tried to figure out my next move. Thinking to myself, I accessed the correct knowledge, my sigil on my face glowing slightly and I started walking towards NyteWynd.

Upon my arrival, the stable master whom saw my approached thanked me for stabling the horse after I had finished with him. I perked my eye at that and then I told him I had nothing to do with it. It was then I found out that it was three days later then when I left. I staggered towards NyteWynd with a arm torn to shreds and bleeding and hobble to my step. Upon reaching Kyriah, seeing her face I smiled with love before I let the darkness of stress and injury take in its black arms of shrouding.

Subject: Where Have You Been? Sat May 21, 2011 4:56 pm

"Vex!" Kyriah called out when he passed out. She took the brunt of his weight onto her own body then eased him down to the ground, calling for two guards at the same time. Vex could only groan in this state. Her worry (as to where he had disappeared to for 3 days) was now forgotten as the urgency of the moment concerned her much more. His appearance would tell her that it had not been a comfortable absence. Once the guards picked him up and carried him inside NightWind, she instructed them place him on the settee in the grand hall and sent a housegirl to get the healer. She sat beside him, wiping his brow with a cold rag running possibilites of what had happened to him over in her mind. His arm was in terrible shape and she moved to clean the wounds from the dried mud and blood that caked it.

His entire body was soaked with wet stink of three days of sun, mud, and stagnant water. Kyriah called for two other castle maids to come to her aide as she began to remove his shirt so she could see better to clean his wounds. They moved without talking though blush would show to the youngest of the lass's cheeks. The scars upon his body stood out against his skin as she began to wash the infected arm.

With his absence of concious, nothing was toting the line of concealing magics he always held firm. His facial scars and Angelic Sigil clearly could be seen. His shoulder and back, had the scars of beastial claws and blade wounds from long ago battles.

The bruises on his body were deep purple with a sick yellowish outline to several. "Bring fresh drinking water and hot water for washing." Kyriah stared at the multiple cuts and bruises thinking it looked much like he had been in a hand to hand combat or perhaps beaten with a club.

"Vex" she whispered as she leaned in close to him.

Deep within him, his mental state started to bubble, slowly a slight boil twittered up bringing him awake soon, his movements of his shoulders and body would forecast it.

She gently put her hand to the cheek with the tatoo. "By the saints Vex, what has happened to you?" She whispered again as she looked at him.

There was still no response as his ordeal had strained him so much just to get here.

As Elspeth Kinnery, the castle healer came in, Kyriah would move aside a very small distance to let her check all the major body functions including his breathing and heartbeat, and watched as she manually opened his eyes to see his pupil reaction.

The perlucation of his conciousness was gaining speed, his indomible will would not be held back, no matter the damage it would cause his frail patchwork mind, Vex would awaken. His eyes once opened by the healer would see a strange site, A cresting wave halted and unmoving.

Elspeth kept asking Kyraih questions as to what happened to him as she raised a brow and what she saw in his eyes, but Kyriah didn't know. Then it seemed, Vex would reach the surface of consciousness. Elspeth would be the face he saw. A mid 30ish woman of beautiful black satin hair with dark brown
compassionate eyes and no stranger to Vex. She cautiously watched him. Kyriah was ringing out a rag to once again mop his brow and did not see his eyes open.

As Vex awoke, he bolted straight up with a start, a groan of a lion would be quiet compared to his. He jostled the nice healer, for he didnt know she was near. "Kyriah!?"

Elspeth let out an audible scream of surprise as he sat up and Kyriah was startled and slipped from the side of the settee onto the floor, hitting on her arse. "Vex, Vex I am here." She scrambled to get back up so he could see her.

"The flowers..the flowers... I am burning..my flesh!!" :wild words escape from his tired mind.

Elspeth was still staring at him as Kyriah placed a hand upon the shoulder of his good arm to encourage him back down. "No Vex, it's okay. You are at NightWind. You are not burning. Please, Vex, lay back. Rest. The healer is here. You are safe now." She did not have a clue what he meant but it did not scare her for she was not as surprised as she once might have been, having him with her for the last few weeks and knowing what she knew.

His hands flailed about, his waves crashed harder and harder within his eyes.
He was having a hard time shaking the shock of his actions.

"THReeeeeee souls..."

Kyriah would gather his face into ther hands, looking straight into his eyes. In a calming voice, she continued to speak to him. "Vex, it's okay now. You are here in NightWind. It's Kyriah, I am here. Shhhh"

[color=darkblue]"Kyriah... yes..K..you are here."[color] His eyes would settle, a calm rolled over him like a summer storm.

Kyriah moved Elspeth out of the way physically with her own body as she drew closer to him. "Aye, I am here and you are here and there is no danger now." She wanted to soothe him but she was beginning to piece things together from things he had told her and things she had witnessed in the past. He was living the death of 3 innocents. Obviously burned. The rumor that she had pushed to the back of her mind now resurfaced and she hesitated a moment before speaking to him again.

"I am hurt, my love."

"Vex, tell me what I can do. Tell me where you are hurt." It seemed ridiculous to even ask as he was cut and bruised and his arm was swollen with infection but she needed him to keep talking.

"I fell...I was clim...clim...climbing a rock face, near a waterfall. For flowers....Angelina."

"Aye, m'love. A waterfall." She urged him on as she slowly encouraged him to lie back then would allow Elspeth to continue to tend him as she had not given her much of a chance to do a thorough examination.

"I was burning, I could feel the flesh ignite me." He did lie back.

But Kyriah did not let go of him. Her hands were on his shoulders, fingers lightly reaching to stroke his forhead. Her body pushed to his so he would know she was indeed right there with him. Touching him always to comfort him in a connection of her presence to his.

He could feel her radience, her love for him and in a calming way, it did soothe him.

Elspeth was confused for she saw no burns on his body though it was beaten badly in spots and his arm was swollen with the white pus and streaked with infection, though it didn't seem as bad now as it did when she first arrived in the room. This would make a brow rise above her eye but she focused on the task before her and let the curiousness of it slide.

"Kyriah, I have broken bones. I returned.. I came back.. I kept my vow." He slipped back into unconciousness for a minute, then to awaken again.

Kyriah kept thinking about the 3 people who had been burned. His words brought her back to him. She quickly looked to Elspeth and down his body. His pants were caked with mud and clung to him with dampness. It was impossible to know what bones. Then she looked back to his face and and her expression softened. "Aye, you have kept your vow. Where are you broken my love?" She knew he would be able to tell them of his injuries from past experiences with him. Then when she saw his eyes roll back as he blacked out again, she touched his face again. "Vex? Vex?"

"Yes.. yes ribs.. my ribs. my arm. Will the healer be able to soothe the burns on my body. I must look hideous." His mind still fractured, he moves back and forth from what happend to his mind and what actually happened to his body.

Elspeth quickly put fingers lightly to his ribs but had to apply some pressure to find the broken ribs and then looked to Kyriah.

"arghhh!!" as the healer pressed.

"Vex m'love, their are no burns upon your body. And the ribs..." She looked back to Elspeth who was checking ribs and jumped when he cried out in pain.

He did a facial tick and was back to the body. "yes..no burns. That was three souls that burned. I have....Three broken ribs. Two on the left here.." he would point to the lower left rib bones, "...and one to the right here, it was high on his body"

"Vex, it is alright, we will wrap your ribs to stop the pain." Kyriah knew it was the only thing they could do to ease the pain of broken ribs without being told by a healer. She had been there before.

Elspeth immediately began pulling long strips of cloth from her medical bag at Kyriah's words while eyeing the locations of the ribs. She was already preparing for the wrap. Wonderment was in her eyes as to how he would know exactly where the breaks were but she would say nothing.

"Aye m'love.." Kyriah said soothingly, "Hold on to me. Elspeth will wrap them, the pain will lesson then, aye?" She glared at Elspeth who simply could not move quick enough for Kyriah.

He gripped her tightly. "I am ready..." he steeled his resolve to the oncoming pain.

With the help of a guard. The three of them managed the wrap around the affected ribs and Kyriah did not ask him to speak more words during this procedure for she knew it would be extremely painful. But her head filled with questions as they worked on him. Kyriah would wait until the expression of pain left his face before she would speak again.

He grimaced a sour face of restraint.

"There now...easy." She helped him to ease back to a lying position.

He laid back and released the stress he was building with his forcing the cagey pain to subside for now.

A cup of hot tea was ordered by the healer to put the herbs that would soothe his pains further. Kyriah sighed heavily with relief once his ribs were wrapped, his arm cleansed and Elspeth began to apply a salve to the infected
areas. "vex? The people that burned, do you know who burned them?" She really did not wish to go into this with others around but she knew the rumors had grown and people were beginning to form opinions of him that were not to kind. She too needed to know the truth.

"No.They are....were so close to me..."

"What waterfall Vex, where were you?" Again she needed more information from him.

He hit his thigh with a fist in anger. It has not been like this since the Tavern a few months back. Vex looked to Kyriah, breaking his speech. "A few miles..a river... west I think..I do not remember right now."

Kyriah was convinced she knew SeaCrest like she knew her name and would search her memories of a waterfall at his description. She could not. She looked him in the eyes. "It is alright Vex. You do not have to remember right now." Kyriah was not without compassion and would let it rest.

"I could take us, if i was. not...so....w...
wea..." he could say it... he would.... "...weak."

"Do not worry over it now, you just need to rest and to heal."

Elspeth spoke in a low tone. "M'lord, please, sip this tea. It will help."

Being the daughter of a healer, Kyriah knew that the tea was to disguise the herbs that would allow the body to heal by putting it to sleep. Lulling it into a state that would aide in the natural mending and that he would not be able to speak much longer once swallowed. She had seen it many times when her mother nursed to those in need. "It's alright m'love. There is time."

"No... no thank you healer. I cannot drink this..I am sorry...I do not want any herbs or rememdys that make me sleep. I will sleep on my own."

"Perhaps not tea Vex but you must let your body heal. I will stay here by you, I promise."

"Thank you Kyriah, yes..stay with me."

Kyriah shook her head to Elspeth in a signal to take it away. "I will see to it that he sleeps." she said this to reassure her healer. "You may go. You may all go." She looked around the room at the guard, the two castle maids, and Elspeth. "I will call if I need you."

They all mumbled their acceptance of the direction from the Baroness and soon Kyriah and Vex would be alone in the room. Kyriah waited until they were gone, with last instruction being to close the doors behind them. Then she turned back to him. "I was so worried when you did not come back. I am so glad you are alive."

"I am glad that I am alive myself. It seems I am part fish..." a joke to lighten the mood.

She managed a smile. Then she reached down and began to untie the laces on his breeches. "I shall clean the rest of your body so that you might sleep, aye?" The breeches were covered in mud that now also covered the settee.

He would nod as he aided her doings, by moving to stand, gingerly.

"Vex, you should not stand. You should stay....still..." But she could see his condition had improved perhaps more than he had let on earlier. "I am capable of removing your clothes you know." She grinned.

"Alright, I was just trying to be useful."

She chuckled at his efforts but then continued with her chore. As she washed down his body, she would glance up to him every few seconds. Her expression would show one of wanting to speak of something but not sure she should.

He watched her, groaning only slightly as she helped him to be cleaned.

Finally she would speak. "Vex, the three people that burned...it was outside Meldrum City. Vex there are people...witnesses...that describe....you as the perpetraitor. Tell me what you remember. All of it." She kept her voice neutral. A talent she had learned from being the majestrate for SeaCrest in the lower court.

"Me?" A look of question on his face.

"Aye, down to the sigil, the scars, the height, the hair..." She waited.

"I was gathering flowers up a rockface, and fell when the pains of three people burning took me. I can tell you every detail of how the fire felt upon their flesh.
But I cannot tell you anything else.. I cannot see it.. they cannot see it."

She listened to him and thought before speaking. "Vex, some believe it was you. The details given were very exact. I don't understand? You didn't come back for 3 days."

"I was out cold.. I did not know til I arrived it had been three days Kyriah.. it was not me."

Kyriah walked over to a tall cabnet and from within, she pulled out a wool blanket. She brought it back and urged him to lie back to cover his now cleansed body. Her eyes would meet his. "I believe you Vex. It's just that.." She sat down then layed down very carefully beside him. "...the evidence is very compelling. I am afraid there could be a hunt for you ordered." She really had no idea what was going on from the DMoS in this matter.

He laid back.. Rolling waves calming cresting look back to her. He thought a moment on this. "They will do as they think they must. And I will do as I think would be best for you and Angelina's safety."

"My worry is not for Angelina or myself Vex. Should the citizens that are convinced it was you, also convince the Ministry that it was you...well...we have to find a way to clear your name. We have to find the true killer."

"Yes. We will have to find a killer."

Subject: Investigations Tue May 24, 2011 11:25 pm

Zindelo's dark hand snapped out and cuffed the back of the man's head, already smarting from too much drink and the fight he'd been detained for, sending dust to the floor and eliciting a groan of pain. "What were you doing there in the first place?! You were supposed to be watching my sister's house!" He asked the small, swarthy man as he prodded him out of the dank cell where he'd been held.

"I was watching her house! I swear it! But the man who was inside of it left, and we drew lots to see who would follow him, since she was not with him this time. I lost." The man replied, rubbing the back of his head as he stumbled out into the morning sunlight, wincing at the bright rays that stabbed at his brain.

"And how exactly did you end up drunk and fighting, when you were supposed to be following my sister's.....guest?" He asked with bitter distaste. No one knew who this strange man was that was sleeping in Luludja's house, but the men he had watching her, and her property, did not report anything that gave him confidence. Something was going to have to be done about his sister, and soon, but for now, Zindelo had to deal with the trouble of one of his men starting a brawl in one of the city's taverns.

"Just so! He was there, in the tavern! He started tossing coins about, buying rounds for the place. It would have looked suspicious if I was the only one not drinking, so I had a few. I suppose I did not realize how many. Before I came to my senses, he was gone, and there was talk of fire in the city a few days before. Then, someone spouted off about foreign devils, and....." The man gave his leader a sheepish look, lifting his shoulders as if to say 'what else was I to do?'.

Zindelo turned a stern glance toward the Rrôm and jerked his head toward the street. "Get back to Luludja's, and do not expect to be paid for last night." Then he added, as further incentive to not allow a repeat of the previous night's events. "Or tonight either!"

Zindelo returned to the guards who were watching over the gaol and tossed them a small pouch of coins, the fine his ruffian had been given. The words, however, were still working in his mind, 'talk of fire.....' He'd heard a few rumors moving around through the streets of the foreign district as well, but had paid them no heed. If it was still being discussed in the taverns, perhaps there was something more to it that deserved, at least, a cursory inquiry. He was about to be off, when he turned back to the guards, his eyebrows drawing low over the bridge of his hawkish nose.

"Have you men heard anything of this fire a few days past?" He questioned.

The two men glanced at one another for a moment, before one shrugged. The other, however, gave a slight nod. "I 'eard something about it, m'lord. Three men got themselves burned, just outside the city. Near a church district, methinks. The rumor is, a dark man did it."

Zindelo's face clouded over as he considered this information. He knew the district the guard spoke of. If there was rumor of it going around the city, he'd check into it first in the foreign district. Tongues were more easily loosened when there was trust, and the people there trusted him. He flipped a coin to the man that gave him the information, then turned and headed for the street.

Outside of the gaol, a small band of his brigands were awaiting his return, and filed in behind him as he threaded his way through the city streets. They were a motley bunch. Though clad much like Zindelo himself, they wore a variety of colors and styles from their far-off lands; some wore rude turbans, turban-wrapped tarbooshes, or a high-crowned cap, called a kalpak. It seemed, however, the only uniform piece that tied them together was the blood-red sash each one wore about his waist, bristling with blades and a yatagan. Two carried the long-barreled matchlock guns the Irregular Militiamen were famous for, resting against their shoulders as they followed their leader into the heart of the city where the scent of spices and the sound of mingling languages became heavy in the close air. He gave a small tip of his head toward a brothel as he leaned to speak with two of the six men that trailed him. He told them what he wanted them to find out, and bid them have a good time finding information. The men laughed, and eagerly headed for the brothel as the others continued on, deeper along the dark, dirty streets. Two more of his men were dispatched to a low tavern to see what they could find out there, while he sent the remaining two into the foreign market to canvas the street performers.

Zindelo himself, slipped into a small coffeehouse set between a brothel and a tavern, a place he was well-familiar with. The proprietor greeted him as an old friend, as they conversed together in Italian, and the rotund, rather hirsute man directed Zindelo to his best table where he was served by the owner's youngest daughter before the proprietor joined him after taking care of his only other customer.

"Zindelo! Or rather, my Lord Zindelo, what can I do for you? What brings you to these low streets once again?" The man asked with a ready smile. The Count was always generous with his gratuities, and his musical ability had drawn customers into the caffè more than a few times in the past.

"It is good to see you again, Bernardo, though I am afraid I come seeking information on a disturbing event." Zindelo answered, as he lifted the small cup of the rare import, Turkish kahve, to his lips.

"Oh? You have come to hear something of that man with the glowing symbol on his face, no? I am afraid I know nothing about it." The heavyset Venetian insisted, his small eyes gleaming in the lurid light of his establishment.

Zindelo kept any semblance of surprise from his expression. A glowing symbol? The guard had said only a dark man. Suspicions were forming in his thoughts, but he only gave a small twitch at the corner of his mouth in an upward tilt. His swarthy hand came to rest upon the table. "Perhaps, this might improve your memory, my friend?" His hand slipped away, revealing the glint of gold beneath, and Bernardo nodded his agreement. It was often lucrative to do business with the Count.

"Grazie. There were three men, though I know nothing of who they were, hung upon crosses as Our Lord was, then set ablaze. It happened near the edge of the city, in a church district. I have heard that the Captain of the Guard is trying to keep the entire matter silent so as not to cause a panic. But, I tell you, the residents are calling for blood."

Zindelo digested this information as he slowly sipped at the strong, hot brew in the cup, leaning indolently back in his chair as he listened, appearing completely at ease. "And what of this man with the glowing sigil that you mentioned?" He questioned.

Bernardo gave him a sheepish smile, spreading his hands. "I am sorry, signore, but I cannot seem to recall anything else about him."

Zindelo's thick, black eyebrow shot up in an arch, his lips curling with a slight smirk. "Hm." He muttered, shaking his head slightly. This information was, perhaps, more important than the rest, therefore, another gold sovereign found its way to the tabletop. "Are you certain you cannot recall?"

"Oh! The man with the glowing markings! Sì! Sì! Now I remember!" The Venetian said, hardly able to suppress his glee at his good fortune. "A tall man, dark-haired. I was not there, but I have it on good authority. He had a mark on his left cheek, but it glowed a brilliant blue. It is hard to overlook, I would say, and at first I did not believe it, but I heard it from more than one source. Also, he had a bandage about one arm, as though it had been badly hurt. The relatives of the ones that were murdered, they all say he was the one that did it. How he overpowered three men and bound them crosses by himself, I do not know. But, I do know there was a burning. I did not merely believe rumor, but wandered out there myself to have a look. It was enough to make me lose my dinner, that was for certain....."

Zindelo waved his hand, indicating that it was enough. He placed a few coins of small denomination upon the table in recompense for the beverage which he finished before he stood. "I thank you for your time. And your keen memory, my friend. I will stop by again sometime soon."

The owner gave him a strained bow as Zindelo made his exit, stepping out into the slant of the afternoon light where it filtered through sheets and garments hung to dry upon lines that bisected the busy streets, blocking out most of the sun.

Before long, he had reached the central marketplace of the district, a lively square bustling with vendors, dancers and musicians, shoppers from all parts of the city and ports beyond the Kingdom. Zindelo moved toward the fountain that sat in the center of the square, a watering hole for the residents, travelers, and livestock that passed through. He gave a brief, courteous nod to an elderly woman carrying a jug she had just filled upon her stooped shoulder when she glanced his way, and then leaned against the stone lip of the fountain as he awaited the return of his men, propping one booted foot up on the stone.

The two that had been questioning the street performers were the first to arrive at the designated spot, and he received their reports that bore much of the same information that he had received from Bernardo, save that they did not know what the man had looked like. There was no mention of the glowing sigil. It was the same when the two dispatched to the tavern had returned. Three men burned on crosses, though he attributed the addition that they were hung upside-down to embellishment. It was a fact he hadn't heard anywhere else. But again, there was no mention of the man's description save that he was tall, and dark. So far, it hadn't seem to spread that the culprit bore a glowing sigil upon his cheek or a bandage upon his arm, key descriptions he was certain would have spread fast. Certainly, if he had heard it before, he would have looked into the matter much sooner.

His answer came several hours later, when, bedraggled and rumpled, but bearing ridiculous smiles, the brigands he'd sent to the brothel came staggering back, reeking of perfume, wine, and sex. One was too drunk to be of any use, but he sobered him quickly by pulling off the man's kalpak and dunking him head first into the fountain. After several passes beneath the water, he was clear enough to at least stop singing and dropped down onto the ground, dripping and sullen, as Zindelo turned to his final man. "What did you learn?" Zindelo asked, in no mood for any more delay.

"A few new tricks!" The man answered with a staggering swagger as he made a lewd gesture with his hips. Despite the gravity of the situation, Zindelo found himself slapping his thigh and laughing with the rest of his men as the man described their adventure in the brothel. Finally, Zindelo held up his hand, shaking his head and still laughing. "It is enough! Tell me what you information you learned!"

"Oh, that!" His man exclaimed.

"Yes. That." Zindelo replied flatly, as he brought his amusement under control and returned to the matter at hand. It soon became apparent that the Captain of the Guard in the church district was paying to keep that bit of information silent as he searched for the assailant. A man with a glowing mark would soon become an angel or demon, depending on who you spoke to, and Zindelo had to agree that, for now, it was the right course of action. Those that believed the man to be an angel would soon be touting that he had come to cleanse the world of wickedness. Those that believed him a demon would be calling for blood, and both sides would, before long, be at each other's throats.

But men talked when they were drunk or happy, and in a brothel, they were often both.

Zindelo had his own suspicions on who this culprit might be from the description, but for now, he did not voice them. Instead, he turned to his men and regarded the two who had been thoroughly amusing themselves in their appointed task. "You are now horse dealers in my employ. You will travel to SeaCrest. Seek welcome in the household of Lady Kyriah, and remain for two days under the pretense of appraising a few of her horses for purchase. Report on all that you may see and hear. The staff of the outbuildings of the estate and menial laborers are more likely to spread gossip. Even misinformation holds a bit of truth that we might glean." Zindelo eyed the two closely, to be certain they understood what he was saying, and then gave a dismissive wave of his hand "Go, now."

He then turned to the remainder of his men. "The rest of you, come with me." He instructed, then turned toward the street. The sun was beginning to sink below the western wall of the city, and he knew they did not have much time left before it would be too dark to see anything, but he needed to see the site of the burnings and speak with the Captain of the Guard before he went any further.

People swept out of the way of the Irregulars and their commander as they made their way toward the church district, and they moved with purpose, swiftly, down the winding street. The guard house near the western gate soon came into view as several church bells began to peel out the hour.

"Wait here." Zindelo ordered his men before he stepped into the guard house. It was several moments before he was shown into the office of the Captain, but their conversation was brief. When he informed the guard who he was, and why he was there, the man stammered out the same story that his men had heard in the streets and taverns. He omitted all mention of the man's appearance. Zindelo was becoming impatient, and irritated. His black gaze bore into the man's eyes as he stood before his desk, resting his dark hands on the surface as he leaned forward.

"You are speaking to the Queen's bodyguard and a member of the Ministry of Defense. You will not feed me the same story that you and your men are circulating. You know more, and I will hear it." The man sat back in his chair, stricken, fear appearing for a moment in his face before he steeled his expression and finally nodded.

After he explained the reason he was seeking to keep the matter of the man's appearance a closely guarded secret, he implored Zindelo to see that it remained so until the man was caught. Zindelo suddenly smiled. "I heard nothing, because I was never here." He said in a meaningful tone.

The Captain gave a small nod and then motioned toward the door. "If you want to see the site, one of my men will show you." Zindelo inclined his head slightly to the man and then swept from the small office to rejoin his men. Dusk was not far off by the time one of the guardsmen joined them and escorted them through the gate to the site of the burning.

Most of the evidence had been cleared away. The remains had been recovered and buried by the victims' families, the crosses cut down and dismantled, with only charred splinters of wood scattered on the scorched earth. Zindelo crouched down near the hardscrabble ground, running his fingertips over a protrusion of withered grass as he glanced upward. His jaw set for a moment, as he envisioned the crosses still standing, the bodies smoldering upon them.

His hand curled around the brittle blades, breaking them from the tougher stalks, and he watched as they crumbled against his palm, his thick eyebrows drawing down. What kind of a world was it that he was bringing a child into, he wondered, where men burned other men alive? Where war and famine, and religion, tore countries, cities, and families apart? Such things were not so uncommon when he was a child. The world was a hard place, he knew, but it was a better place now than it had been when his father was a boy, when he was a boy. Perhaps, it would be a better place still when his children had children of their own.

He let the chaff fall from his hand and slowly stood, turning to his men with a nod back toward the gate. There were no answers here, but he would find them, and report his suspicions to the Crown.

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Wed May 25, 2011 12:20 am

(Excellent! )

Subject: Re: A forgotten soul Wed May 25, 2011 9:30 pm

((agreed 100 percent. Excellent post.))

Number of posts : 19 Registration date : 2011-02-27

Back again soon.

Number of posts : 19 Registration date : 2011-02-27

He had been watching his targets for days. He had been under the guise of inquiring about horses for his Commander, Zindelo Lovari. The past two weeks or so, he had successful came up with many reasons in staying longer here at NyteWynd.

Most his nights were watching the man named Vex walk into the castle and speak with the Baroness Kyriah Reinhardt. They spoke in great lengths at times, long into the night. Most times he did not return to his room or the other way around, she did not go back to her room until the wee hours of the morning.

Vex, did seem to be able to appear and disappear often as he wanted. Always bringing flames to him and its disappaiting. This was making his job harder and harder. The last few days Vex was going to a local painter, and staying for a few hours each day. Today was just the same, but this time, the lady Kyriah was with him. She didn’t enter the little cottage with Lord Vex; she was outside in the hot hours of the afternoon.

The weather today was sticky and awful. The heat was bearing down today on him. Sweat pouring from his pores on his forehead. Releasing trickles of sweat that cascaded down to the ground and his clothing. Blinking, he noticed that the Baroness herself was feeling the heat.

It seemed the Lady Kyriah was taking a few buttons down on her shirt. The spy eyes widen slightly to the new development. He from his high vantage point upon the hill, using the spyglass he was not watching anything else. This was the most exciting thing he has seen in days.

She was looking at a horse trough, dipping her hands into it and cupping the water up to her chest and splashing her shirt with the cold water to cool off.

He wet his lips as he anxiously watched. He secretly hoped that she was much hotter and wished to cool off more.

She below seemed to be not cooled off enough; she looked around her surroundings to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied that none were watching she began to unbutton more of her shirt. This had the spy thirsting for more. To see a lovely high born lady in such manner really had him going.

“She a beauty is she not?” the man heard right before a sword hilt came crashing into the back of his head rendering him unconscious.

“Deadly and gorgeous and not for you to look at ever again.” Vex said as he kicked the dead to the world man. “The Lady Godiva con always works. Well now it time to send you back to your master.”

“Did you get him?” Kyriah asked as she climbed up to where Vex and the man where.

“Sure did, he had eyes only for you. He did not see me sneaking up to him at all. It is time to send him back to where he comes from.”

The next day, bound and gagged in front of the encampment of the Irregulars, the spy was mumbling under his bindings. A small two foot by two foot painting lay at his feet. Within its wrappings was a painting of Vex smiling and a single piece of parchment. It read: If you wanted to see me everyday all you had to do is ask. Enjoy the painting. A painting is worth a thousand glances and will last longer than most live. Sincerely Vex.

» Another soul enters this world