It was in the sunny hills. Back in Faerun. He could never remember where it was. Something to south to Waterdeep. He stood on the wooden terrace of his familiy's house. His father sat in his wide armchair, which was directed at the view of the hills. On the small table next to him was a bottle of whiskey and a glass. And his father was smoking a pipe once again. That was the image of his father he always kept. Fargul was still a small child, dirty and with tears in his eyes. He stood behind his father:" Pa! The other boys... They.."
"Wha' is it me boy?"
"They told me that you and Ma killed people. They said you killed many people." He wipes away his tears and the blood that was dripping from his nose. "I didn't believe them. Took the biggest stick and bashed them till they stopped. Their parents came but I was right! No one accuses me parents of being bad!"
His father sighed and took a longer pull from his cigar :" Ma boy. They were right. Me and yer Ma killed people. We did kill many o' 'em as well."
The kids eyes widened :" But... why?"
"Fer coin, me boy. Fer money."
The peaceful scene was only disturbed by the childs weeping.
"Tha' is what our family does. Yer gran'father did it. Yer Great gran' father did it and by time ye will do it too. Fargul, yer the last descendant o' a family o' mercenaries. Th' Bernadottes have been offerin' all kindsa services since seven generations. An' me son we're damn goo' at it. We be th' scum o' the world. We ain' got no motives but gold. We fight fer the ones wit 'em. We die in dirt an' mud without glory. But if we win, only gold awaits us an' we be gone like a Waterdeepian mistress. It is wha' we are."
By now Fargul had wiped away all tears and kep quiet:
"Is that why I had to practice all those things, the other boys don't do? Like the swordfightin'? The bow n' arrow? All those times you beat me? This all what I need to have?"
"Yup, me boy. That is why I do that." he nodded slowly and exhaled a ring of smoke.
"Then I will be the best at it from now on!"....
Fargul opened his eyes in the Hive District of Sigil and grinned. New day, new opportunities. Now he could prove that he not only was descendant of scums, but to become the scum of all worlds.He grinned to himself about the thought.
"the Scum Of The Worlds"
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Fargul slendered down the street. It was working out fine: His company was a success at least in that way, that he managed to gather quite a few people. It was Great! He had at least men and women whom he could trust. Now next is the jobs. But that would only be a matter of time. This place was a battlefield in his eyes: People of all beliefs and philosophies where present! It seems though he is the only one who notices that. Those factions and guilds had money. And as soon as they gonna realize that Fargul had a few extra blades-and that these blades were worth it- he was looking forward to the cash. The possibilities here were quite overwhelming.
Images flashed into his mind: Corpses, fear, the sweet scent of rotting bodies. He lifted his wine bottle. Drown the images in a flood of blood-red liquid. Memories... They were not good. He had to focus. Where was he? Right, the roles of the current members... Then he wondered, when he was gonna see her again. She hadn't been around. Or maybe he was just busy with the Company. Regardless, he needed more wine and a new cigar. Right now!
Images flashed into his mind: Corpses, fear, the sweet scent of rotting bodies. He lifted his wine bottle. Drown the images in a flood of blood-red liquid. Memories... They were not good. He had to focus. Where was he? Right, the roles of the current members... Then he wondered, when he was gonna see her again. She hadn't been around. Or maybe he was just busy with the Company. Regardless, he needed more wine and a new cigar. Right now!
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The whiskey burned down his throat. More, more! He heard screams and looked around. Everyone seemed happy chatting. More of that whiskey. Blood dripped from the forehead of an elf close to him. NO!
Fargul sat in a chair, somewhere in the corner of the Inn. Great why do his memories haunt him now? This was not fair! He had a compant to run! People respected him! He needs to be strong. But no, his mind hat to play with him and send this images at him! The past never leaves you. Never!
He took another long pull from his whiskey. His entire pose was sinking. Nobody could see him. If they did, they might would mistake him for another alcohol addict and not the Captain of the Warhounds. He wondered if he'd die before he had an actual big breakthrough like his father, back then with the merchant's group. His life was just there, to be thrown away. And if this was going on like this, he'd be the last of the Bernadottes. In that case, he'd take the shame of seven generations. But then again, maybe it was not such a bad thing. Knowing that you are about to die, does have something assuring to it. He raised his bottle one last time and the screams died. But with that, also his conciousness and he passed out in the corner. And everyone who passed by, probably thought that he was another poor sod, who tried to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
Fargul sat in a chair, somewhere in the corner of the Inn. Great why do his memories haunt him now? This was not fair! He had a compant to run! People respected him! He needs to be strong. But no, his mind hat to play with him and send this images at him! The past never leaves you. Never!
He took another long pull from his whiskey. His entire pose was sinking. Nobody could see him. If they did, they might would mistake him for another alcohol addict and not the Captain of the Warhounds. He wondered if he'd die before he had an actual big breakthrough like his father, back then with the merchant's group. His life was just there, to be thrown away. And if this was going on like this, he'd be the last of the Bernadottes. In that case, he'd take the shame of seven generations. But then again, maybe it was not such a bad thing. Knowing that you are about to die, does have something assuring to it. He raised his bottle one last time and the screams died. But with that, also his conciousness and he passed out in the corner. And everyone who passed by, probably thought that he was another poor sod, who tried to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Fargul lay in a bed, somewhere in the Hive Ward. It was one of the many friends he somehow had and who owed him a favor one way or another. Many thoughts haunted his scarred mind. He needed to get things into an order. What happened one after one. How did this crap start in the first place?
First thing he could think of was that strange, but hot-as-hell-looking woman: Arvolexia. The job he agreed was only meant for his own conscience to bear. He planned to do it on his own from the beginning. Actually he had noble intentions didn't he? Not to endanger his men with this.... Was a stupid idea, like it turned out. His mind did not take it on the long run. The only opening for this pressure was the alcohol... he thought. It wasn't and all his doubts, worries and fears piled up on each other. And one day he lay in an alley. Covered in bruises, all the coin gone and some ugly looking Jink-Skirt next to him. He crawled onto the street and looked into a puddle: That poor sod in the reflection couldn't be him. He wasn' dead yet.. Or? He moved a bit and the reflection did the same. The shock made him lose his breath for a couple of moments.
He left that street with the first intention: Stop the bloody alcohol! The smoking wasn't a problem. Yet. But he wanted to start out small anyways. Life came back into the corpse and he slowly regained his vitality. And his hunger in the first place. He kept the food intake to a minimum till then. Now he just finishes the stuff like nothing. Energy he needed.
After some time it was his chance to take. He was talking to Zilvai, when the alarm rang. He acted and yet he was lucky: Raifael was free again and his to take. He smelled the coins already. But then that hope was broken again... Raifael disappeared and suddenly also Zilvai revealed her own plans. Everyone turned against him and suddenly it was him, Fargul, the one who'd always enjoy life and what it brings, Everyone's friend, the neutral lad, who was the hippocrate. The one who broke his own rules. When did that happen? Did he miss to notice that again? And now that damn white-skinned woman was standing like the innocent sheep. Hello? Something was going wrong. And Fargul just did what he always did: Stands still nods with a smile when told and puffs his cigar in peace. What by the rotten teeth of his grand-father happened here?
When he thought about it closer... Zilvai seemingly always appeared when he had some kind of problem with himself. Everytime he was feeling shitty and wanted to turn another way... That white face came in and gave the kick... Should he be grateful? Something smelled fishy about that.
He enclosed the note in his hand. It was a proof to him: The proof that Zilvai is just another cranky fanatic who loves to force people under her will. One of those who believe in fate and all that crap. He was a rationalist. He wouldn't speculate about something, which he didn't knew. He would only aim for the achievable.... So why the heck was he scared shitless that Zilvai might be right, with her comment?
First thing he could think of was that strange, but hot-as-hell-looking woman: Arvolexia. The job he agreed was only meant for his own conscience to bear. He planned to do it on his own from the beginning. Actually he had noble intentions didn't he? Not to endanger his men with this.... Was a stupid idea, like it turned out. His mind did not take it on the long run. The only opening for this pressure was the alcohol... he thought. It wasn't and all his doubts, worries and fears piled up on each other. And one day he lay in an alley. Covered in bruises, all the coin gone and some ugly looking Jink-Skirt next to him. He crawled onto the street and looked into a puddle: That poor sod in the reflection couldn't be him. He wasn' dead yet.. Or? He moved a bit and the reflection did the same. The shock made him lose his breath for a couple of moments.
He left that street with the first intention: Stop the bloody alcohol! The smoking wasn't a problem. Yet. But he wanted to start out small anyways. Life came back into the corpse and he slowly regained his vitality. And his hunger in the first place. He kept the food intake to a minimum till then. Now he just finishes the stuff like nothing. Energy he needed.
After some time it was his chance to take. He was talking to Zilvai, when the alarm rang. He acted and yet he was lucky: Raifael was free again and his to take. He smelled the coins already. But then that hope was broken again... Raifael disappeared and suddenly also Zilvai revealed her own plans. Everyone turned against him and suddenly it was him, Fargul, the one who'd always enjoy life and what it brings, Everyone's friend, the neutral lad, who was the hippocrate. The one who broke his own rules. When did that happen? Did he miss to notice that again? And now that damn white-skinned woman was standing like the innocent sheep. Hello? Something was going wrong. And Fargul just did what he always did: Stands still nods with a smile when told and puffs his cigar in peace. What by the rotten teeth of his grand-father happened here?
When he thought about it closer... Zilvai seemingly always appeared when he had some kind of problem with himself. Everytime he was feeling shitty and wanted to turn another way... That white face came in and gave the kick... Should he be grateful? Something smelled fishy about that.
He enclosed the note in his hand. It was a proof to him: The proof that Zilvai is just another cranky fanatic who loves to force people under her will. One of those who believe in fate and all that crap. He was a rationalist. He wouldn't speculate about something, which he didn't knew. He would only aim for the achievable.... So why the heck was he scared shitless that Zilvai might be right, with her comment?
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
It was a long time ago, since Fargul had trained properly. Only just slaying demons and so on, doesn't do much to one's fitness. Something he had learned from his father of course. The weights attached to his legs and arms, didn't hinder him at all. He did punches into the air and used an overly heavy metal bar to represent his sword. Slashing, blocking, parade and slashing again. His pale torso, which was rather muscular although somehow thin, showed the beating marks, the scars of his life. Mistakes he did not want to do a second time. His bare feet moved over the cold stone of the Gymnasium. Step, step, turn, step, sidestep, etc. Sweat slowly dropped from his forehead over his face, which was marked by determination. It gave him time to think... Which was clearly necessary.
He had finished the job of Arvolexia.. Something that nagged in his intestines for quite a while now. However that was done. She was clearly a wonderful woman... That was not to be denied. However he did concentrate and get his results... However he later had another discussion with Zilvai. It was weird though.. He had the feeling he was saying things he did not want to. In the end he ended up in a way swearing his loyalty to her.. In his backward way. But then again it kind of made sense. After all he did owe her.Not?
Fargul was out of breath... He probably smelled horrible but he felt better. He used a cloth to wipe all the sweat away and lit a cigar. A goodlooking woman passed by and gave Fargul a discrete look. He grinned, what could he do.. He washed himself and left the Gymnasium... Not expecting what he got himself into.... Or at least ignoring it.
He had finished the job of Arvolexia.. Something that nagged in his intestines for quite a while now. However that was done. She was clearly a wonderful woman... That was not to be denied. However he did concentrate and get his results... However he later had another discussion with Zilvai. It was weird though.. He had the feeling he was saying things he did not want to. In the end he ended up in a way swearing his loyalty to her.. In his backward way. But then again it kind of made sense. After all he did owe her.Not?
Fargul was out of breath... He probably smelled horrible but he felt better. He used a cloth to wipe all the sweat away and lit a cigar. A goodlooking woman passed by and gave Fargul a discrete look. He grinned, what could he do.. He washed himself and left the Gymnasium... Not expecting what he got himself into.... Or at least ignoring it.
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Fargul slendered down his favorite streets. This night he wanted to enjoy himself: A quick dinner at Muriel's, then a couple of drinks in his favorite pubs and maybe a visit in one or two of his preferred etablissements. In the end he deserved it, didn't he: He felt so fresh. Wasn't it his plan, that rid the Vorare? Zilvai had been too occupied with being scared and did not take the intiative... And what about that Paladin? What was his name again... Arn, Alrik or Allen? No! Animus, it was Animus. Well he was rather worrying about that poor sod, who fell prey to that monster. So Fargul had to take control and tried something. In the end a pure test of guts... And he won didn't he?
Zilvai was acting strange lately anyway: First she acted all high and mighty and played the mysterious Fate-Controler or whatever... He had to admit it did worry him but that changed as soon as her voice trembled in front of the Vorare... In the end she was just as scared to die as any other cutter in the Multiverse. And anyone who can die, is just half as scary, Fargul's Motto. The reason, the only real thing he feared was the Lady of Pain. Who did a real good job finishing that Vormi-- Errm Vorare off.
Now appearantly she made Fargul commander of her army. The couple of people who signed up to go hunt those Vorare. He found it ridiculous already, since they already had one down, and they were only three. Completely pointless. But then again it makes it easier with a bunch rather than three, having to gamble every time. But well... He smelled that there was something more than simply hunting down the Vorare.. She wanted influence, she made that clear to him. Another fanatic wanting to take over... Only problem was that he acted for free, which in his opinion puts him on the same niveau as just another clichee military-dog. He was a stray and it would be impossible for anyone to train him to jump for a snack.
Now it was more important to split up his company. It didn't work out and he had his new occupation, which, once it was actually running (what he heavily doubted), would take most of his time. Apart from that no one was around. And he kind of wanted to go back to being an individual freelancer. It makes life so much easier. Of course he would miss being called "Captain"... But on the other hand he would switch that for "Commander". Even though it annoyed him that Zilvai was trying to put him on a leash. That would not happen.
He sat down on a bench and looked down into the Riverbed at the Hive Ward... He hated Sigil: It was always changing, never really being relaxed or calming. There was nothing Solid to hold on to, on the other hand, he loved the renewing city, the fact that he could walk known paths and still find something new. And he loved the inhabitants. New faces over and over. A coming and leaving. There was something for everyone. Death had to wait, there was still so much to do... Maybe that's the point of immortality: Never being done.
Zilvai was acting strange lately anyway: First she acted all high and mighty and played the mysterious Fate-Controler or whatever... He had to admit it did worry him but that changed as soon as her voice trembled in front of the Vorare... In the end she was just as scared to die as any other cutter in the Multiverse. And anyone who can die, is just half as scary, Fargul's Motto. The reason, the only real thing he feared was the Lady of Pain. Who did a real good job finishing that Vormi-- Errm Vorare off.
Now appearantly she made Fargul commander of her army. The couple of people who signed up to go hunt those Vorare. He found it ridiculous already, since they already had one down, and they were only three. Completely pointless. But then again it makes it easier with a bunch rather than three, having to gamble every time. But well... He smelled that there was something more than simply hunting down the Vorare.. She wanted influence, she made that clear to him. Another fanatic wanting to take over... Only problem was that he acted for free, which in his opinion puts him on the same niveau as just another clichee military-dog. He was a stray and it would be impossible for anyone to train him to jump for a snack.
Now it was more important to split up his company. It didn't work out and he had his new occupation, which, once it was actually running (what he heavily doubted), would take most of his time. Apart from that no one was around. And he kind of wanted to go back to being an individual freelancer. It makes life so much easier. Of course he would miss being called "Captain"... But on the other hand he would switch that for "Commander". Even though it annoyed him that Zilvai was trying to put him on a leash. That would not happen.
He sat down on a bench and looked down into the Riverbed at the Hive Ward... He hated Sigil: It was always changing, never really being relaxed or calming. There was nothing Solid to hold on to, on the other hand, he loved the renewing city, the fact that he could walk known paths and still find something new. And he loved the inhabitants. New faces over and over. A coming and leaving. There was something for everyone. Death had to wait, there was still so much to do... Maybe that's the point of immortality: Never being done.
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Lately Fargul had found an extra activity for his free time. He stood at the door of the rather simple house. It didn't really look special and for most of its owners clients, they usually would avoid it. But then again the content was truely exquisite: A rather old man opened the door. His hands were shaking and he couldn't walk straight up anymore. He wore a silken coat, pretty expensive-looking and it even showed how fragile he was. His green eyes sparkled as soon as he saw Fargul: "Fargul, me boy! How's it going? Been a while since ye showed up!"
"Ahh.. Come on, Lerrick. I been 'ere last week. Hey, I brought some brandy from Khazeet. He sends best wishes."
"Heheh, very nice from the old Fire Fart. But where are me manners, step in boy, step in."
Lerrick Derral was one of Fargul's best friends. Lerrick only arrived before a year, so it was kind of funny in the beginning, for the old man, to be taught by Fargul everything about Sigil. When Fargul met him for the first time, Lerrick was a walking corpse. Not much better than any Zombie. But what had killed him was sadness. The loss of something very important to the man. But that must have been ages ago. Lerrick never told him, but he understood that it must have been of high value. Since his arrival Lerrick's condition improved.. And with that his wealth: He seemed to have a natural eye for art. He wasn't good at producing any but he had a critical eye. This is why he became a dealer for paintings. He bought from painters and sold them to Nobles and rich Merchants, who wanted to show their wealth by expensive status symbols. Lerrick's clients only heard of friends from him. But it wasn't his money that made him so sympathetic. It was the similar background they shared.
They walked down a well-decorated hallway and then got into a very sympathetic living room. The walls were painted in a warm dark-red and the same colored furniture promised comfort already just by looking at them. Lerrick had to use a cane in order to walk properly. Fargul helped the old man to sit down and took the brandy to a shelf, where took two glasses out. He had been here often enough: Whenever the old man had a problem or needed help, Fargul was there. Lately though the age was becoming more of a bother for him, so Fargul had to show up more often.
"So how did ye date go, last nite?" Lerrick took a thankful sip and leaned back in his chair.
"Well..." Fargul shrugged, "Coul've gone better. But to be honest, I didn' know what to expect exactly anyways." He took his silver box out and picked a cigar and a match out, lighting carefully a cigar. Lerrick on the other side, got a pipe out. It was rather well made and consisted of fine woods, from the Neverwinter Forest. He recieved it from the time, when he worked for a nobleman in a little fief. "Ahh common. There must be a woman, somewhere in Sigil, which can keep up with ye." He puffed a little ring of smoke. Fargul grinned, "Ye do know how to get me motivated, eh?". "Well I'm already proud o' yer decision to finally calm down and back away from yer old life."
"Well 's kinda time fer it, ennit? I mean I'm almost 30, I lived here fer 14 years an' dun' even got me own Case. On the other hand, I dun' really feel like it. That yesterday was in the end jus' makin' friends in the end."
"Ahh... Maybe yer not made fer an actual sophisticated life-style after all."
Fargul sighed and exhaled a cloud of smoke. He watched it, while the aromatic cloud rose to the ceiling and dispersed: "Yer prolly rite... But still. Kinda annoyin'... Feels like summin's missin' ye know?"
Lerrick nodded smiling a little bitter: "Yeah.. Know what ye mean..."
Fargul took a sip from his brandy: " Ahh well... At least I coul' make that lass a lil' happy. She seemed pretty relaxed an' more importantly relieved. An' then she told me 'bout her relationship problems. Well turned out she had an affair wit a promised lass."
Lerrick laughed. It sounded windy and hollow and once more demonstrated once more the severity of his age: " Ye dated a lass that's into other women?"
Fargul shrugged: "Certainly appears so.. But to be honest, that wasn' the first time. Although the other time it still had a happy endin'."
Lerrick shook his head, with an expression of fatherly strictness:" When I was in yer age, I wasn' so... easy-goin'."
The mercenay laughed as well now:" Heh, but when ye were me age, ye weren' in Sigil. I mean, ye can end up wit basically anythin'! I mean, I almost got together wit a Githzerai."
Lerrick raised a brow:" Must've been an interstin' Intermezzo, eh?"
Fargul grinned:" I said Almost, Ol' man."
They talked for another couple of hours before Fargul finally decided to leave. He helped the old man to get to bed, which Lerrick of course commented with cursing Fargul. As soon as he made sure, that everything was alright, all windows closed and all Lights off, he left the front door and locked it. Surely he had a key, but he preferred it, to show that he was there. He smiled as he left the house. No the true value wasn't the paintings. The true value was the old man, who slept there, peacefully. The man who also probably knew, that Fargul more depended on him, than Lerrick depended on Fargul...
"Ahh.. Come on, Lerrick. I been 'ere last week. Hey, I brought some brandy from Khazeet. He sends best wishes."
"Heheh, very nice from the old Fire Fart. But where are me manners, step in boy, step in."
Lerrick Derral was one of Fargul's best friends. Lerrick only arrived before a year, so it was kind of funny in the beginning, for the old man, to be taught by Fargul everything about Sigil. When Fargul met him for the first time, Lerrick was a walking corpse. Not much better than any Zombie. But what had killed him was sadness. The loss of something very important to the man. But that must have been ages ago. Lerrick never told him, but he understood that it must have been of high value. Since his arrival Lerrick's condition improved.. And with that his wealth: He seemed to have a natural eye for art. He wasn't good at producing any but he had a critical eye. This is why he became a dealer for paintings. He bought from painters and sold them to Nobles and rich Merchants, who wanted to show their wealth by expensive status symbols. Lerrick's clients only heard of friends from him. But it wasn't his money that made him so sympathetic. It was the similar background they shared.
They walked down a well-decorated hallway and then got into a very sympathetic living room. The walls were painted in a warm dark-red and the same colored furniture promised comfort already just by looking at them. Lerrick had to use a cane in order to walk properly. Fargul helped the old man to sit down and took the brandy to a shelf, where took two glasses out. He had been here often enough: Whenever the old man had a problem or needed help, Fargul was there. Lately though the age was becoming more of a bother for him, so Fargul had to show up more often.
"So how did ye date go, last nite?" Lerrick took a thankful sip and leaned back in his chair.
"Well..." Fargul shrugged, "Coul've gone better. But to be honest, I didn' know what to expect exactly anyways." He took his silver box out and picked a cigar and a match out, lighting carefully a cigar. Lerrick on the other side, got a pipe out. It was rather well made and consisted of fine woods, from the Neverwinter Forest. He recieved it from the time, when he worked for a nobleman in a little fief. "Ahh common. There must be a woman, somewhere in Sigil, which can keep up with ye." He puffed a little ring of smoke. Fargul grinned, "Ye do know how to get me motivated, eh?". "Well I'm already proud o' yer decision to finally calm down and back away from yer old life."
"Well 's kinda time fer it, ennit? I mean I'm almost 30, I lived here fer 14 years an' dun' even got me own Case. On the other hand, I dun' really feel like it. That yesterday was in the end jus' makin' friends in the end."
"Ahh... Maybe yer not made fer an actual sophisticated life-style after all."
Fargul sighed and exhaled a cloud of smoke. He watched it, while the aromatic cloud rose to the ceiling and dispersed: "Yer prolly rite... But still. Kinda annoyin'... Feels like summin's missin' ye know?"
Lerrick nodded smiling a little bitter: "Yeah.. Know what ye mean..."
Fargul took a sip from his brandy: " Ahh well... At least I coul' make that lass a lil' happy. She seemed pretty relaxed an' more importantly relieved. An' then she told me 'bout her relationship problems. Well turned out she had an affair wit a promised lass."
Lerrick laughed. It sounded windy and hollow and once more demonstrated once more the severity of his age: " Ye dated a lass that's into other women?"
Fargul shrugged: "Certainly appears so.. But to be honest, that wasn' the first time. Although the other time it still had a happy endin'."
Lerrick shook his head, with an expression of fatherly strictness:" When I was in yer age, I wasn' so... easy-goin'."
The mercenay laughed as well now:" Heh, but when ye were me age, ye weren' in Sigil. I mean, ye can end up wit basically anythin'! I mean, I almost got together wit a Githzerai."
Lerrick raised a brow:" Must've been an interstin' Intermezzo, eh?"
Fargul grinned:" I said Almost, Ol' man."
They talked for another couple of hours before Fargul finally decided to leave. He helped the old man to get to bed, which Lerrick of course commented with cursing Fargul. As soon as he made sure, that everything was alright, all windows closed and all Lights off, he left the front door and locked it. Surely he had a key, but he preferred it, to show that he was there. He smiled as he left the house. No the true value wasn't the paintings. The true value was the old man, who slept there, peacefully. The man who also probably knew, that Fargul more depended on him, than Lerrick depended on Fargul...
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Fargul woke up in the middle of the night. He looked around till he found out where he was. Next thing he noticed was the body next to him in his bed...Who.. Ah, Rei, of course. He stroked her hair a little and stood up. Took a bottle of wine and sat down at the table and rubbed his chin, while taking a long pull.
It was a Great feeling to be loved again. It had truely been a while since his last serious relationship. And he enjoyed every second of it. Like a good wine, aged and sweet at the same time. And there was no getting out of it. Like he was drowning in an Ocean but he dove deeper instead of saving himself. He was not planning on promising himself to finally have found something eternal. Of course the spark of hope existed, but he would not give into it. The Past had proven that often enough. He simply leaned back and enjoyed it.
Regarding the Brigade nothing much had happened. Hmm.. Typical. Maybe he should get a solid grip on it. After all he was the commander. Not? Anyways it wasn't so important at the moment... Everything seemed a little secondary, lately. Only Rei mattered at the moment... And Old man Lerrick. He thought back to their conversation just yesterday: They were sitting in the living room, the warm, red walls were even darker. The flames were dancing in the fire place and Fargul enjoyed a glass of brandy, puffing a cigar.
"So what's her name?" Lerrick grinned at Fargul.
"What do ye mean?"
"Ye haven' smiled that much fer no reason. Must mean ye either gotten insane or yer in a new relationship." Lerrick puffed a cloud of smoke from his pipe.
"Get outta me head, ol' man!" Fargul shook his head grinning.
"Her name's Rei." Fargul tapped his chin.
"Exotic... Where does she hail from?"
"Also from Toril I think."
"An' so what's the diagnosis? Does it got a perspective?" Lerrick sipped his Brandy.
Fargul shrugged: "Got no clue. I decided nah to get too focused on those things anymore... They never ended well fer me. So I ain' gettin' me hopes up 'gain."
"Hmmm... Ye know... I gonn' tell ye a story: Back when I was yer age... I met a woman. Just been 18 or summin'... Well lived as a thug back in Waterdeep. We made aqcuaintance while huntin' a lich in the Underdark. Well we gotten to know each other better. An' grown closer an' closer." Lerrick's lower lip was slightly shaking and the old man took a sip from his brandy starting to stare into the flame. He went on:" I really loved that woman. But she was a noble Templar in the church of Tyr... I left me life as a criminal behin' me. Became a City-Guard an' kinda made it. Only reason I really went there was for her. After a while, the Templars were threatening me. Told me I was not good enough for the lass. I didn't want her to be loaded wit me shame... So I talked her into leaving Waterdeep. Found a place up the coast. Valley called Sundren I think. She didn' like the though of starting all over there."
Lerrick sighed and looked more into the fire, his sadness was so solid, Fargul almost couldn't breathe anymore. But he didn't dare to stop the old man. He knew, that Lerrick was about to open up to him, what had tortured this poor soul all this years.
"She went to the local church there... I became soldier. Again for her. But.. well. It didn't work out. Things happened there that drifted us apart. And all because I couldn't tell her about the threats of her old comrades. It was ridiculous! And so one day she turned her back to me. Didn't talk to me anymore. Avoided me and then disappeared...." Something similar to a tear fell upon the old man's cheek. "9 years we had been together since then... 9 years. The only 9 years that I really lived in me life. At some point I left the army, because I learned to hate that place. Too many memories. Moved to Neverwinter and acted as a guard for a nobleman, who possessed a fief in the Nerverwinter forest. 20 years... I had lived there... 20 long years, knowing that the only woman in my life was out in the world. The feelin' ripped me apart. Soo.. I stayed there until I was too old and the Nobleman ran outta money. Traveled to some places. And learned 'bout me artistic interest. Ended up here in Sigil... And now that me life's coming to an end... I wish there was someone I had spent all these years wit... That one woman.." The old man stared now at the ground as if the answer to his cries was somehere imprinted on the carpet.
Fargul helped the old man up to his room and got him to sleep. He stayed a while there and waited till he was peacefully asleep. As he went down the stairs, he could hear Lerrick cry a name out in his sleep: Jezzarah, Jezzarah, I'm sorry. It's all me fault!. Over and over again. Such a poor soul... Could he ever find peace before he died? Fargul doubted that alot though.. . .
It was a Great feeling to be loved again. It had truely been a while since his last serious relationship. And he enjoyed every second of it. Like a good wine, aged and sweet at the same time. And there was no getting out of it. Like he was drowning in an Ocean but he dove deeper instead of saving himself. He was not planning on promising himself to finally have found something eternal. Of course the spark of hope existed, but he would not give into it. The Past had proven that often enough. He simply leaned back and enjoyed it.
Regarding the Brigade nothing much had happened. Hmm.. Typical. Maybe he should get a solid grip on it. After all he was the commander. Not? Anyways it wasn't so important at the moment... Everything seemed a little secondary, lately. Only Rei mattered at the moment... And Old man Lerrick. He thought back to their conversation just yesterday: They were sitting in the living room, the warm, red walls were even darker. The flames were dancing in the fire place and Fargul enjoyed a glass of brandy, puffing a cigar.
"So what's her name?" Lerrick grinned at Fargul.
"What do ye mean?"
"Ye haven' smiled that much fer no reason. Must mean ye either gotten insane or yer in a new relationship." Lerrick puffed a cloud of smoke from his pipe.
"Get outta me head, ol' man!" Fargul shook his head grinning.
"Her name's Rei." Fargul tapped his chin.
"Exotic... Where does she hail from?"
"Also from Toril I think."
"An' so what's the diagnosis? Does it got a perspective?" Lerrick sipped his Brandy.
Fargul shrugged: "Got no clue. I decided nah to get too focused on those things anymore... They never ended well fer me. So I ain' gettin' me hopes up 'gain."
"Hmmm... Ye know... I gonn' tell ye a story: Back when I was yer age... I met a woman. Just been 18 or summin'... Well lived as a thug back in Waterdeep. We made aqcuaintance while huntin' a lich in the Underdark. Well we gotten to know each other better. An' grown closer an' closer." Lerrick's lower lip was slightly shaking and the old man took a sip from his brandy starting to stare into the flame. He went on:" I really loved that woman. But she was a noble Templar in the church of Tyr... I left me life as a criminal behin' me. Became a City-Guard an' kinda made it. Only reason I really went there was for her. After a while, the Templars were threatening me. Told me I was not good enough for the lass. I didn't want her to be loaded wit me shame... So I talked her into leaving Waterdeep. Found a place up the coast. Valley called Sundren I think. She didn' like the though of starting all over there."
Lerrick sighed and looked more into the fire, his sadness was so solid, Fargul almost couldn't breathe anymore. But he didn't dare to stop the old man. He knew, that Lerrick was about to open up to him, what had tortured this poor soul all this years.
"She went to the local church there... I became soldier. Again for her. But.. well. It didn't work out. Things happened there that drifted us apart. And all because I couldn't tell her about the threats of her old comrades. It was ridiculous! And so one day she turned her back to me. Didn't talk to me anymore. Avoided me and then disappeared...." Something similar to a tear fell upon the old man's cheek. "9 years we had been together since then... 9 years. The only 9 years that I really lived in me life. At some point I left the army, because I learned to hate that place. Too many memories. Moved to Neverwinter and acted as a guard for a nobleman, who possessed a fief in the Nerverwinter forest. 20 years... I had lived there... 20 long years, knowing that the only woman in my life was out in the world. The feelin' ripped me apart. Soo.. I stayed there until I was too old and the Nobleman ran outta money. Traveled to some places. And learned 'bout me artistic interest. Ended up here in Sigil... And now that me life's coming to an end... I wish there was someone I had spent all these years wit... That one woman.." The old man stared now at the ground as if the answer to his cries was somehere imprinted on the carpet.
Fargul helped the old man up to his room and got him to sleep. He stayed a while there and waited till he was peacefully asleep. As he went down the stairs, he could hear Lerrick cry a name out in his sleep: Jezzarah, Jezzarah, I'm sorry. It's all me fault!. Over and over again. Such a poor soul... Could he ever find peace before he died? Fargul doubted that alot though.. . .
-
*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Fargul wiped his face off the sweat and looked into the mirror... A scarred, one-eyed, middle-aged man, with a neutral expression looked back. The hells was wrong with him? What Animus said back in the Gymnasium had opened something up to him. Even when he almost died in Abyss it showed him something else. All these discoveries and he cannot make up his mind? He cannot do what he should do? Maybe because I might like the way I am? Hells no! He wanted finally something simple!
After taking a quick bath and finishing a bottle of his second-favorite wine, he finally ended up in his bed. Closing his lids from all the exhaustion of the last few days he ended up in sleep's warm embrace.
He stood up and looked around. He wasn't in his bed anymore. Instead he stood on a hill, a small crypt behind him with a Portal at its entrance. As he glanced up, it was a starless night, only a huge bright, Full moon putting a silvery light upon the grass, the trees and hills. Everything felt real.. .The wind, the cool, the ground under his feet.
He set his eyes upon the Portal behind him. He couldn't remember walking through one after going to bed. A sudden wave of curiousity drowned the thought of stepping back through that portal and he began his descent to the bottom of the hill.. As he reached the end of his little plateau, he could oversee a huge graveyard. Hmm... Strange, this plane almost seemed like a Prime Material one. He began to follow a narrow path down to the graveyard. As he slowly approached a better look at the square before him he paused:
Before him stood an army of undeads! But that wasn't the only thing, it certainly appeared they had been waiting for him. The zombies and simply skeletons charging at him. Out of natural reflex, Fargul searched for a sword hilt on his back and actually found one! Weird, didn't he take his swords off, before he took a bath? The sword sliced the rotten corpses like warm butter. Tissue was ripped apart and bones crushed. They had no chance. The Undead became more in number but also in size and strength. Suddenly vampires joined them and then suddenly the Army dispersed. Sweat dropped from the One-Eyed Mercenary's forehead. He grinned, almost madly and looked at the towering shadow-like creature that slowly moved before him. The shadow-giant seemed like a general to him. Without any further hesitation, the creature slapped Fargul's blade out of his hand. In the next instant a second Giant appeared and together with the remaining soldiers, they attacked. With bare fists and legs, Fargul fought like an enraged, dying animal. Red blurred his vision, body parts of undead flew around until, Fargul faced the first Shadow-Giant. He ran up to him and just kicked its leg. So hard that it snapped and the Monster slowly bowed before the Fighter. He grabbed the creature's head and put an arm around it! Without hesistation and a quick motion, the spine or whatever it had, snapped and he ripped the head off. The monster dropped Fargul's Sword and the odds were in favor of Fargul again... With the bloody blade he grinned fiendishly at the remaining abdominations: "Who's next?"
Fargul cracked his neck after eliminating the entire undead forces. After he regained his senses more or less he examined his surroundings: He stood in the centre of the graveyard, before him a fountain of some sorts. There were corpses everywhere. Some scorched others were dripping with blood. There were four paths, the one he came from, another one leading to a ruin of some sorts, which were blocked by boulders, a path to another hill somewhere in the distance and a fourth way, which led to a bridge that stretched itself somewhere over a river into the fog. It seemed to be blocked by what appeared to be a red wall. He suddenly noticed that he wasn't alone. Behind him stood a Succubus. She smiled at him, sweetly and yet lustfull, chuckling amused about the slaughter he had done. He simply leaned on the sword and grinned weakly at her: " So yer next in line?"
The succubus chuckled slightly:" Oooh, will you take me with your shaft too?"
Fargul remained calm expecting such Ousider humour:
"Yeah... I dun' think so, sweetie." The succubus examined him once more, looking him up and down: "What a shame... Now what brings a Human to this place?"
Fargul, still recatching his breath simply replied:" If I knew... I prolly still wouln' tell you."The Succubus played insulted and placed a hand before her mouth: "Am I that unattractive? There used to be a time, when males would tell me all I wanted" Fargul shrugged and dusted himself a little off: "First, I know yer kind pretty well, believe or nah, second o'all, I got already a woman, sweetie."
The Succubus sighed and grinned at Fargul: " Is that so?. . . That makes you hardly of any use for me. Well.. Prepare to fall then!" And with those words she threw magic bolts at Fargul. He however ducked under the magic and grabbed his sword by his side, as the burning air over him, cooled again, he jumped up and threw his sword in a spear-throwing movement, as strong as he possibly could in the Succubus' direction. The female screams echoed themselves and she turned into ash. Fargul snorted only, reclaimed his sword and turned away...
Randomly he decided to follow the trail to the distant hill. On the way, he found two statues, although he didn't pay much attention to them. Arriving at the top of the hill, he found even more graves and big black mammoth tree. He raised a brow and shook his head. He was about turn as he heard a strange ruffling noise. As Fargul returned his gaze to the graves he noticed a small wolvish claw coming out of the grave. It was followed by the rest of the creature. What came out seemed pretty much like a tiny werewolf to him. He raised a brow and yet another of his loose phrases came out:" An' what are ye s'pposed to represent?"
The small creature sniffed the air and tilted it's head at Fargul. With a rasped voice it spoke: " Represent Balance.... Good and Evil... Light and Dark... What does this one represent?"
Fargul halted. It wasn't really the fact that a werewolf asked him that question.. It was more the question that threw him off...What did he represent? Did he stand for anything at all? Again his mouth responded earlier than his actual brain: " Me? I'm nuthin' but a mere Human, I guess. . . Ain' got a deeper meaning." He presumed that this wasn't really that smart but he went with it. The creature still stared at him, with its yellowish eyes:" All who live, hold meaning. All who come here, hold a deeper one. . .What does this one represent?" It repeated its previous question. Fargul slowly grew impatient with this dream... Yes, it must be a dream or something: "I represent myself: Fargul Bernadotte, the Nine-Blade, Bernadotte!" He felt as if this was a way better response, especially since he put more confidence into it. The little werewolf with its lupine eyes just stared at him, as if its gaze could pierce right through him:" I see. . .". The creature paused a moment before continuing, "This one does not know his meaning, nor place in life.". Fargul grunted, what did this Thing believe to know?! Upset he replied:" What? I know pretty damn well, where I belong! An' since when do lil' grave-dodgers like ye know, what meanin' me life has?!" He snorted and looked at the wolvish creature. It seemed untouched by his words again in its cold voice it went on to say:" This one speaks harsh words to cover the truth. His souls is a lost entity, roaming the mortal planes. . .Forgotten. . .Rejected. . . Dispised. Inner agony is kept in a casket and sealed by lies, in this one." The depth of these words silenced Fargul. He only stared at the creature in disbelief. Something like a grin appeared on the creature's face and it howled to the moon, slowly fading. A soft wind touched Fargul's face and he heard a quiet voice whispering:" Face your nightmare... Find Redemption." A shiver ran down the Mercenary's spine.
Fargul returned to the central Fountain. On his way he passed once more the two statues. Thoughtfully he examined them: One was a female and one a male warrior of some sort. Time had left their marks and so it was impossible to recognize them correctly. The light of the moon created a reflection on the inscriptions of the statue and caused them to shine in a blueish light. Fargul approached them slowly and read on the one of the Male statue: Vorous- The Radiant light of the Sun " Shalt my radiance, illuminate your path to truth!". Fargul raised a brow and turned to the othe statue. There, he read: Sorshar- The Flare of the Sun "The Fallen Six bring guidance and Peace! Console your soul and you shall be redeemed!". Fargul withdrew from the statues and raised his brow: What the Hell was that supposed to mean again?!
Arriving again at the Fountain had only one way left to turn to. He followed the path to the Bride with the Red Wall. Approaching said Wall he realized that it wasn't really a Red Wall: It was a Wall of flowing Blood, like a waterfall appearing out of thin air. Carefully he touched it with the tip of his blade. Caution was of essence in this place. The red liquid slowly burned the metal. He raised a brow and looked at the waterfall, blocking the way to the bridge:" Bad Blood-Wall". He stepped back in order to see, if he could find a way around it. Maybe going through the river? No, the water seems even more magical. That was also obvious to him. It would rip him apart, so fast was the current. No only one way leads through this. Slowy, he took more and more steps back, his eye only focused a the barrier before him. Clenching his teeth, he leaned forward and charged straight a the acidic Blood. Closing his eye in the last moment he jumped through it. As he landed on the wooden bridge, he rolled on the ground. Slowly he stood up and grinned. Everything seemed alright, and he was good to go. The sword in his hand, he followed the wooden bridge into the fog.
After a short while he arrived at the end of the bridge. A small island on the other side of it. It was plain and the fog was even heavier here. However as he approached he noticed a figure between two lights. As he got closer he noticed that it must be a she... And that she was perfectly white! He slowly stepped closer, and suddenly the cowled figure displays a pair of white-feathered wings, with which she wraps herself up like in an embrace. Fargul tilted his head and examined her: " Z-Zil? Is that you? What are you doing here?" The figure turned away, and he swore he could have seen two white eyes, and tears coming from them. She turned away from him and disappeared into the mist. "Zil, I'm sorry. Ye misunderstood me there, I'm happy to see ye. I rea--" he halted as something appeared instead of the winged woman:
An entity, with a mantle that consits of burned faces that seem to scream continuously as if in eternal pain. From the opening of the hood, came two horns at the spots where usually the eyes would be. It flattered in a non-existant wind and slowly approached Fargul. Fear pumped through his mind and his hand were shaking as he took a step back. The faces scream for help and express their pain, it seemed. As the thing slowly got closer the chorus yelled something else however: RUN! Fargul turned around and dashed off. That was too much! That sight it... He shivered and kept on running. He turned his head and saw that the thing was floating behind him.. CLOSELY! He followed the bridge and increased his steps his only thought: I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna d-- NO! An uproars went through his mind and his entire body! He came to a halt! His self-preserving instincts arrived. He slowly turned around and pointed his sword at the creature that came closer and closer. The screaming faces, screaming for help. Begging him to run. With an Ice-Cold glance Fargul looked at the monster, straight into the spots where he presumed its eyes. He yelled with all the courage he could bear: "I AM FARGUL, THE NINE-BLADE BERNADOTTE! YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME? COME AND TAKE IT! I AIN' GONNA DIE TODAY!" The creature seemed to come closer, regardless of his yells. The nearer it came, the more could he feel the draft. The all-consuming hunger of the beast. Fargul leaned back a bit and then thrusted his blade in a stab, right into the monster's "Face":" EAT THIS, YOU BASTARD!".
The moment, the blade entered the creatures mantle, it imploded, all the screams fading slowly and bursting into white light, that blinded Fargul. He guarded his eyes with his hand as the screams slowly faded.
Fargul raised his head from the pillow, sweating as if he fought an entire army. He noticed the wine bottle in his hand and tosses it aside. "Never gonna drink before sleepin' again..."
After taking a quick bath and finishing a bottle of his second-favorite wine, he finally ended up in his bed. Closing his lids from all the exhaustion of the last few days he ended up in sleep's warm embrace.
He stood up and looked around. He wasn't in his bed anymore. Instead he stood on a hill, a small crypt behind him with a Portal at its entrance. As he glanced up, it was a starless night, only a huge bright, Full moon putting a silvery light upon the grass, the trees and hills. Everything felt real.. .The wind, the cool, the ground under his feet.
He set his eyes upon the Portal behind him. He couldn't remember walking through one after going to bed. A sudden wave of curiousity drowned the thought of stepping back through that portal and he began his descent to the bottom of the hill.. As he reached the end of his little plateau, he could oversee a huge graveyard. Hmm... Strange, this plane almost seemed like a Prime Material one. He began to follow a narrow path down to the graveyard. As he slowly approached a better look at the square before him he paused:
Before him stood an army of undeads! But that wasn't the only thing, it certainly appeared they had been waiting for him. The zombies and simply skeletons charging at him. Out of natural reflex, Fargul searched for a sword hilt on his back and actually found one! Weird, didn't he take his swords off, before he took a bath? The sword sliced the rotten corpses like warm butter. Tissue was ripped apart and bones crushed. They had no chance. The Undead became more in number but also in size and strength. Suddenly vampires joined them and then suddenly the Army dispersed. Sweat dropped from the One-Eyed Mercenary's forehead. He grinned, almost madly and looked at the towering shadow-like creature that slowly moved before him. The shadow-giant seemed like a general to him. Without any further hesitation, the creature slapped Fargul's blade out of his hand. In the next instant a second Giant appeared and together with the remaining soldiers, they attacked. With bare fists and legs, Fargul fought like an enraged, dying animal. Red blurred his vision, body parts of undead flew around until, Fargul faced the first Shadow-Giant. He ran up to him and just kicked its leg. So hard that it snapped and the Monster slowly bowed before the Fighter. He grabbed the creature's head and put an arm around it! Without hesistation and a quick motion, the spine or whatever it had, snapped and he ripped the head off. The monster dropped Fargul's Sword and the odds were in favor of Fargul again... With the bloody blade he grinned fiendishly at the remaining abdominations: "Who's next?"
Fargul cracked his neck after eliminating the entire undead forces. After he regained his senses more or less he examined his surroundings: He stood in the centre of the graveyard, before him a fountain of some sorts. There were corpses everywhere. Some scorched others were dripping with blood. There were four paths, the one he came from, another one leading to a ruin of some sorts, which were blocked by boulders, a path to another hill somewhere in the distance and a fourth way, which led to a bridge that stretched itself somewhere over a river into the fog. It seemed to be blocked by what appeared to be a red wall. He suddenly noticed that he wasn't alone. Behind him stood a Succubus. She smiled at him, sweetly and yet lustfull, chuckling amused about the slaughter he had done. He simply leaned on the sword and grinned weakly at her: " So yer next in line?"
The succubus chuckled slightly:" Oooh, will you take me with your shaft too?"
Fargul remained calm expecting such Ousider humour:
"Yeah... I dun' think so, sweetie." The succubus examined him once more, looking him up and down: "What a shame... Now what brings a Human to this place?"
Fargul, still recatching his breath simply replied:" If I knew... I prolly still wouln' tell you."The Succubus played insulted and placed a hand before her mouth: "Am I that unattractive? There used to be a time, when males would tell me all I wanted" Fargul shrugged and dusted himself a little off: "First, I know yer kind pretty well, believe or nah, second o'all, I got already a woman, sweetie."
The Succubus sighed and grinned at Fargul: " Is that so?. . . That makes you hardly of any use for me. Well.. Prepare to fall then!" And with those words she threw magic bolts at Fargul. He however ducked under the magic and grabbed his sword by his side, as the burning air over him, cooled again, he jumped up and threw his sword in a spear-throwing movement, as strong as he possibly could in the Succubus' direction. The female screams echoed themselves and she turned into ash. Fargul snorted only, reclaimed his sword and turned away...
Randomly he decided to follow the trail to the distant hill. On the way, he found two statues, although he didn't pay much attention to them. Arriving at the top of the hill, he found even more graves and big black mammoth tree. He raised a brow and shook his head. He was about turn as he heard a strange ruffling noise. As Fargul returned his gaze to the graves he noticed a small wolvish claw coming out of the grave. It was followed by the rest of the creature. What came out seemed pretty much like a tiny werewolf to him. He raised a brow and yet another of his loose phrases came out:" An' what are ye s'pposed to represent?"
The small creature sniffed the air and tilted it's head at Fargul. With a rasped voice it spoke: " Represent Balance.... Good and Evil... Light and Dark... What does this one represent?"
Fargul halted. It wasn't really the fact that a werewolf asked him that question.. It was more the question that threw him off...What did he represent? Did he stand for anything at all? Again his mouth responded earlier than his actual brain: " Me? I'm nuthin' but a mere Human, I guess. . . Ain' got a deeper meaning." He presumed that this wasn't really that smart but he went with it. The creature still stared at him, with its yellowish eyes:" All who live, hold meaning. All who come here, hold a deeper one. . .What does this one represent?" It repeated its previous question. Fargul slowly grew impatient with this dream... Yes, it must be a dream or something: "I represent myself: Fargul Bernadotte, the Nine-Blade, Bernadotte!" He felt as if this was a way better response, especially since he put more confidence into it. The little werewolf with its lupine eyes just stared at him, as if its gaze could pierce right through him:" I see. . .". The creature paused a moment before continuing, "This one does not know his meaning, nor place in life.". Fargul grunted, what did this Thing believe to know?! Upset he replied:" What? I know pretty damn well, where I belong! An' since when do lil' grave-dodgers like ye know, what meanin' me life has?!" He snorted and looked at the wolvish creature. It seemed untouched by his words again in its cold voice it went on to say:" This one speaks harsh words to cover the truth. His souls is a lost entity, roaming the mortal planes. . .Forgotten. . .Rejected. . . Dispised. Inner agony is kept in a casket and sealed by lies, in this one." The depth of these words silenced Fargul. He only stared at the creature in disbelief. Something like a grin appeared on the creature's face and it howled to the moon, slowly fading. A soft wind touched Fargul's face and he heard a quiet voice whispering:" Face your nightmare... Find Redemption." A shiver ran down the Mercenary's spine.
Fargul returned to the central Fountain. On his way he passed once more the two statues. Thoughtfully he examined them: One was a female and one a male warrior of some sort. Time had left their marks and so it was impossible to recognize them correctly. The light of the moon created a reflection on the inscriptions of the statue and caused them to shine in a blueish light. Fargul approached them slowly and read on the one of the Male statue: Vorous- The Radiant light of the Sun " Shalt my radiance, illuminate your path to truth!". Fargul raised a brow and turned to the othe statue. There, he read: Sorshar- The Flare of the Sun "The Fallen Six bring guidance and Peace! Console your soul and you shall be redeemed!". Fargul withdrew from the statues and raised his brow: What the Hell was that supposed to mean again?!
Arriving again at the Fountain had only one way left to turn to. He followed the path to the Bride with the Red Wall. Approaching said Wall he realized that it wasn't really a Red Wall: It was a Wall of flowing Blood, like a waterfall appearing out of thin air. Carefully he touched it with the tip of his blade. Caution was of essence in this place. The red liquid slowly burned the metal. He raised a brow and looked at the waterfall, blocking the way to the bridge:" Bad Blood-Wall". He stepped back in order to see, if he could find a way around it. Maybe going through the river? No, the water seems even more magical. That was also obvious to him. It would rip him apart, so fast was the current. No only one way leads through this. Slowy, he took more and more steps back, his eye only focused a the barrier before him. Clenching his teeth, he leaned forward and charged straight a the acidic Blood. Closing his eye in the last moment he jumped through it. As he landed on the wooden bridge, he rolled on the ground. Slowly he stood up and grinned. Everything seemed alright, and he was good to go. The sword in his hand, he followed the wooden bridge into the fog.
After a short while he arrived at the end of the bridge. A small island on the other side of it. It was plain and the fog was even heavier here. However as he approached he noticed a figure between two lights. As he got closer he noticed that it must be a she... And that she was perfectly white! He slowly stepped closer, and suddenly the cowled figure displays a pair of white-feathered wings, with which she wraps herself up like in an embrace. Fargul tilted his head and examined her: " Z-Zil? Is that you? What are you doing here?" The figure turned away, and he swore he could have seen two white eyes, and tears coming from them. She turned away from him and disappeared into the mist. "Zil, I'm sorry. Ye misunderstood me there, I'm happy to see ye. I rea--" he halted as something appeared instead of the winged woman:
An entity, with a mantle that consits of burned faces that seem to scream continuously as if in eternal pain. From the opening of the hood, came two horns at the spots where usually the eyes would be. It flattered in a non-existant wind and slowly approached Fargul. Fear pumped through his mind and his hand were shaking as he took a step back. The faces scream for help and express their pain, it seemed. As the thing slowly got closer the chorus yelled something else however: RUN! Fargul turned around and dashed off. That was too much! That sight it... He shivered and kept on running. He turned his head and saw that the thing was floating behind him.. CLOSELY! He followed the bridge and increased his steps his only thought: I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna d-- NO! An uproars went through his mind and his entire body! He came to a halt! His self-preserving instincts arrived. He slowly turned around and pointed his sword at the creature that came closer and closer. The screaming faces, screaming for help. Begging him to run. With an Ice-Cold glance Fargul looked at the monster, straight into the spots where he presumed its eyes. He yelled with all the courage he could bear: "I AM FARGUL, THE NINE-BLADE BERNADOTTE! YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME? COME AND TAKE IT! I AIN' GONNA DIE TODAY!" The creature seemed to come closer, regardless of his yells. The nearer it came, the more could he feel the draft. The all-consuming hunger of the beast. Fargul leaned back a bit and then thrusted his blade in a stab, right into the monster's "Face":" EAT THIS, YOU BASTARD!".
The moment, the blade entered the creatures mantle, it imploded, all the screams fading slowly and bursting into white light, that blinded Fargul. He guarded his eyes with his hand as the screams slowly faded.
Fargul raised his head from the pillow, sweating as if he fought an entire army. He noticed the wine bottle in his hand and tosses it aside. "Never gonna drink before sleepin' again..."
-
*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The Trail of the Mercenary
" Have ye heard 'bout that one-eyed Mercenary? Yes, the one wit 'em nine swords. Yes I hear each is 'bout the size of a man an' he can carry 'em wit one hand. Well guess what yesterday I heard, he took out an entire Orc tribe up in the Swordmountains. Some sage made the comment:" With your Orc-killing skills you could probably take on Gruumsh's army up in Archeron!" and the Merc actually responded: "Been there, done that." The boy must be insane, but I swear he can lift wagons like pillows."- Derek Blander, Farmer
" You won' believe me what I saw the other day: I was walkin' 'round the woods and suddenly I see this Ogre sitting there. So I go hide behind a bush but realize he's focused on summin' else: There's this bloke sittin' before him a man, in green and black armor and they're Arm-Wrestling. Not only that, the man's winning. Gets his coin from the Ogre and the two have an ale together... What? I didn't touch a single mug today, ye fool!"- Herbert Dougal, Ranger
" Ye won't believe who I met the other day: Fargul, the son of our old boss! I swear I seen him in flesh and blood, wit me own two eyes. Really looks like his father but even bigger an' 'specially stronger. Guess what, he asked where his parents were put to rest... Then he asked 'bout Fenwick and his bunch. Told him all I knew 'bout their current residence an' how cocky those bastard's become. I dunno 'bout ye folks but I believe after that one night he went straight to hell an' became summin' else than the little boy we knew back then. An' now he's come for his revenge. I dun' wanna be in Fenwick's skin rite now. Oi gimme another ale!" -Gareth Hulm, Ex-Mercenary
" Have ye heard 'bout that one-eyed Mercenary? Yes, the one wit 'em nine swords. Yes I hear each is 'bout the size of a man an' he can carry 'em wit one hand. Well guess what yesterday I heard, he took out an entire Orc tribe up in the Swordmountains. Some sage made the comment:" With your Orc-killing skills you could probably take on Gruumsh's army up in Archeron!" and the Merc actually responded: "Been there, done that." The boy must be insane, but I swear he can lift wagons like pillows."- Derek Blander, Farmer
" You won' believe me what I saw the other day: I was walkin' 'round the woods and suddenly I see this Ogre sitting there. So I go hide behind a bush but realize he's focused on summin' else: There's this bloke sittin' before him a man, in green and black armor and they're Arm-Wrestling. Not only that, the man's winning. Gets his coin from the Ogre and the two have an ale together... What? I didn't touch a single mug today, ye fool!"- Herbert Dougal, Ranger
" Ye won't believe who I met the other day: Fargul, the son of our old boss! I swear I seen him in flesh and blood, wit me own two eyes. Really looks like his father but even bigger an' 'specially stronger. Guess what, he asked where his parents were put to rest... Then he asked 'bout Fenwick and his bunch. Told him all I knew 'bout their current residence an' how cocky those bastard's become. I dunno 'bout ye folks but I believe after that one night he went straight to hell an' became summin' else than the little boy we knew back then. An' now he's come for his revenge. I dun' wanna be in Fenwick's skin rite now. Oi gimme another ale!" -Gareth Hulm, Ex-Mercenary