The Pup's Tale
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_The Doll pirouetted insanely about the room; occasionally getting too near a wall, or the dresser. When this happened, a violent contact broke the silence of the room. Loud solid thumps, or items being knocked to the floor, and the skittering of wooden feet catching their balance.
The 'Doll' was the size of one -creepy- little girl…but it had Jaelles face. Every circuit around the room brought it closer to the bunk, where Brendel sat curled up against the wall.
Everytime it passed the bunk, words echo'd in his head.
**"I love you"
"I chose you, but I couldn't tell you, you had gone away"
"Why did you leave me too die??"
"Tell me you love me"**
Terribly, Jaelle's face would lock for a moment, looking at him. But the lips wouldn't move, the expression never changed.
At each pass, Brendel would get more pale, pushing himself into the wall to get away from her…it. Sweat started beading on his face and arms, a small cry escaping him as she careened off the dresser once more. This time though, instead of passing him by, she jumps up on the bunk; a dry wooden rattle of joints accompanying her.
With a whimper, Bren pushes himself tighter into the wall, feet wheeling on the bed to get a better grip. The doll, looming over him, bends at the waist moving its face inches from his.
Breathing fast and sharply, near panic, Brendel squeezes his eyes tight, turning his head away. His cheek throbbing slightly as he pushed it into the wall, looking for every last millimeter of escape room.
"Don't you want to kiss me?" Its head tilting to the side as the
words seeped into his head.With a last long, desperate cry, Brendel awoke.
The Clerics had been kind. Healing his wounds and lending him a small sparse room for a few days. It was clear to them this Elf needed more then one kind of healing.
Bren moved to the side of the bed and settled his feet onto the floor. With a deep breath in, and a sharp exhale he put his face into his hands. Both head and hands slick with cold sweat.
It was time to get out of here. He was getting stir-crazy, and the dreams were not abating. Might as well make himself useful in the meantime. Taking his time in fixing the mussed up bed, then dressing. One of the priests had gotten him a set of pants and a loose vest at his request. They would do for now in covering the new pink scars in his leg and chest. Wincing in the memory of pain, he yanks the pants up, grabs the few remaining things of his and heads out. Leaving a donation downstairs before he goes.
He had been back in the Norwick area a few weeks now. Carrying on as he was before, though more…mellow. Brendel had been content so far to just coast. Jerrick was back, Adriell was gone again. A shocking number of new faces.
He had had to make a number of changes, internally. Situations had demanded it. The strongest didn't survive, the adaptable ones did. He let his thoughts continue as he made his way back north to New Southgate. He hoped that, given the way things were now, Adri would keep silent. Some 'stability' was needed, start things now, fix them later, once a framework was established.
Just as he reached the gate his musings were interrupted. The gate ahead of him swung open. Another new face stepping out.
A young elf emerged, well used equipment, and with a slightly undecided look about him._
"You would do well to gather a few more, before running around these lands friend" _Brendel accompanied his advice with a friendly wink.
Cassius had been in this Human town far too long. One message delivered easily enough, but he had wasted his days after that trying to find 'The Badger' some Brendel fellow.
Now as he decided finally, too return to Cormanthyr, some ragged looking Wild elf had dared address him…in Common no less!_
"e> I have no intention of 'running around', nor of explaing my business to you…" _Although sorely tempted too, Cassius stopped himself from adding any choice insults. He had to get back, not waste time on vagabond low-born elves.
Brendel watched with amusement, one eyebrow raising slightly as the Elf grew haughty and spat his words back to him. That was, in his not-so-humble opinion, one of the worse failings of their race. Arrogance, all to common.
Giving his customary short bow, Brendel met the gaze of this Elf._
"My name is Brendel, a Redcl…a local Scout for Norwick. Do you have a name you want me to pass on to the Clerics? ...When I have to drag your body out of the Rawlins back to them? "
_The amusement Brendel was feeling grew as he watched several emotions flash across the young Elf's face. Both ears twitched forward, towards the Elf. Something he had just said struck a chord.
Briefly Brendel wondered if he had just started another fight._
"e>Are you called…The badger?"
Brendel's eyes narrowed slightly at this…somebody was still looking for him. Ear's now twitching back and forth Brendel held the Elf's gaze.
"e> Just Badger. Why is it you are suddenly so …keen to be standing here?" Bren couldn't help but notice the hint of satisfaction to cross the Elf's face..nor the edge of excitement.
"e>My Lady sent me here to find you, deliver a message, and bring you back with me, Jynai wishes…" _Cassius eyes widened, as he spoke, the other Elfs hands -flew- to his weapons, drawing both a quality sword, and a vicious looking dagger.
Brendel paused, sudden shock had forced him into action. How long have they known I was here!! Why send for me now… His frantic thoughts stalled once again._
"Feather? ….Feather sent you? ...for me??"
The look of confusion grew on Brendel's face as the Elf delivered the message from Feather. Blinking a few times, then shaking his head Bren sheathed his weapons.
"e>that is some ..tale. Fortunately for you…it has raised enough questions to really get me curious. It...defies belief really."
Brendel felt the excitement grow inside him. Though a truly insane tale, there was enough truth to rouse his curiosity. Even if it was an elaborate trap of sorts…Brendel had to go. Just the urge to travel again was enough; but coupled with the possibility of seeing Feather, left him no choice.
"Fine, you have travelling companions. What is your name?"
"e>Cassius, companions? I was only instructed to bring you back" _A guarded expression crossing his face.
With a subtle gesture, Badger drew Cassius attention to the shadows by the Wall. An old scarred Wolf stepped half into the light as attention was drawn to him._
"e>-We- will accompany you back home Cassius, to your…queen." _A wry grin crossing Brendels features as he says it.
As the Sun rose in the East, the two elves and a wolf set off South, leaving behind a pair of pants and a vest. Certainly not the clothing any sane Elf would want to travel in._
//Cheers to DMotivator. We got 'hit' by one of these crazy Dolls, and out of nowhere -ON THE FLY- motivator hit Bren with AMAZINGLY accurate and pentrating Jaelle like influences!! Big Cheers!!!
If you have not read the TBTF "She who loves the People: Feathers tale" Read it, or the last entry, the next few entries I do are going to be a continuation of that seed
…its mostly in my head now...and its going to be FUN!!!
-
_Brendel lay, frigid cold. The cold was inside though, not outside. All he could see was Darkness…but he COULD see. His ears twitched at a long distant sound, droning? buzzing? Near constant and just out of earshot it seemed. He registered his willingness to not move an inch first. Then, his willingness to not think...which of course...got him thinking. He stayed stubborn on the moving decision though.
He tried to work out where he was...that didn't go so well. Frowning he decided it may help to work out how he got here. It seemed...after a certain point in his memories...padding quietly down a street in Peltarch, the memories got...slippery. He just couldn't grasp them.
Confusion.
"Perhaps if I actually got up and looked around?"
NO.
He knew, with dead certainty that moving was the LAST thing he wanted. In fact...he really just wanted to stop thinking...and rest. Peacefully. Peace. Rest in Peace.
A tight ball sucked inward, his chest suddenly filling with the shock of it, like a lead weight. The memories cracking open suddenly.
"I'm dying."
Glancing around he wondered at that....what was this? Shock? He gave a very credible sigh for being in shock.
"Well....dying is one hell of an adventure...well. Dying isn't...but afterwards?? Unless I earned something bad. Fark. But then. That's still an adventure...just a bad one...or really...an UnFun one."
Taking a long moment, Brendel thought back. Having the time it seemed to Scrutinize every memory. Every hope, dream. To an Elf, these were never far off. Reverie making it very hard to hide from oneself. In the end he couldn't quite settle happily with dying. Some things still unfinished, people he didn't want to leave behind. Too many times he had not spoken...too few times he had shut up. Amends had to be made.
He was he decided, powerless to stop death though. Meilikki spoke to him a week ago, raised him from deaths clutches...he didn't think that was going to happen now.
His ears twitched. The droning was still maddeningly out of reach...but something else was getting closer. A snuffling? sniffing?...certainly a fat-bodied shuffle. Brendel's eyes narrowed as a badger shuffled into view. It came straight to him nose inches from his face. As he saw its eyes he knew this badger. those were -HIS- eyes._
"This is YOUR fault. Things were better before you came along you little bastard…"
_Badger it seemed, wasn't inclined to answer either way on that score. It just stood there. Staring. Unblinking.
Slowly, a bit of heat entered Bren's body. Anger. How could this THING just stand there and watch him die?? Like some farkin' Horc staring at a coloured ball for an hour!
Brendel stared back. The heat growing, Badger not even blinking, the last straw of course…..one little tiny....almost imperceptible...twitch of its little black Arse-sniffing gods be damned nose!!!!
With a desperate rage, Brendel moved. A dull pain registering to his brain, for the moment, in the same place as the buzzing. He brought his arm out, slowly as if offering a gentle scratch.
Badger watched, looking him in the eye. Unmoving, though he had to know what was coming right? They shared the same eyes....
With a final flop/lunge Brendel cranked his hand in towards Badgers ear grabbing it up in his fist tightly. With a cry of Rage he squeezed, then seeing not much of a reaction from Badger, he begins to viciously twist the damned thing.
Quietly Badger begins to whimper, then cry out. Brendel blinks suddenly, not quite stopping...everything just...rippled.
With another vicious twist, lights explode in front of his eyes. Suddenly the Buzzing drone assaults his ear...the other one shooting pain into his head as he twisted it one final time. His fingers were tacky, sticking together with blood.
Flies. Many flies. On him, around him. 4 corpses laying in the alley, one of them refusing to lay down and die. Some of the flies, disturbed by his movement settle on less feisty targets. Others, preferring to take the chance that this was the last gasp; settle for a quick whirr of their wings, hardly repositioning themselves.
He hears something else above the drone of flies. A whimpering ....himself. Something more...a Wolf far off and Howling. Sadness in its cry, Brendel wondered briefly how it could sometimes be so close, yet so distant from each other.
He tried to move his other arm, crying out once more, black spots swimming in his vision. The desperate sucking of his own liquidy breaths comes to his ears.
His whole Torso on fire now. A slow push with his legs even for that effort, he had to break a seal of half-dried blood that lay congealed around his body. A weak scream tore from his throat as the bolt through his leg grated on stone.
He waited a few breathless moments till the spots cleared his vision. Tears of pain slowly leaking form his eyes, he saw his sword. Slowly he reached an arm out, chest tearing open raggedly once more. He pushed his hand through the loop of Wolf Fang, and Illmatari symbol.
His ears registered one more sound. Church bells. Far off, maybe too far. But a goal, that changed perspectives.
Slowly, in pain he would have thought unbearable he dragged/pushed forward. All he could taste was blood...it was all he could see too. The changing thump of his heartbeat taking away the sound of blood hungry flies.
Even mercifully, the sound of his own cries of pain, the scraping of steel on stone were drowned out.
"As long as I hear it...I'm alive" thump…...thumpthump....thump...thu.....thump.....-.....thump....
Days later it seemed…surely hours had past, the night hitting the quietest..right before the city would begin awakening.
He felt a change on his face, blinking a few times as he stared directly into torchlight. An open door....the Triad...he had made it. A wheezing dry death rattle of a chuckle escapes his chest. Literally, leaking out of the gaping wound. Dropping his feverish head to the cool stone steps he waits, unmoving, patient._
-
///I'm not sure…this may qualify as gory? It certainly is not as bad as I thought it would be...but might be rough with the blood...Use discretion!!///
"In Time" -Mark Collie
I can hear what you're thinking,
All your doubts and fears,
And if you look in my eyes, in time you'll find,
The reason I'm here.And in time all things shall pass away,
In time, you may come back someday.
To live once more, or die once more,
But in time, your time will be no more.You know your days are numbered,
Count them one by one,
Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's gun.
You can outrun the devil, if you try,
But you'll never outrun the hands of time.In time there surely, come a day
In time all things shall pass away,
In time you may come back some say.
To live once more, or die once more,
But in time, your time will be no more._Brendel sat in the corner of his 'room' in the Ferret, little more then a closet really. He was comfortable enough really. He hadn't slept in beds for years.
Stripping down he scratched absently at himself. Coming from a heated debate with the rest of the Wolves. It was just like trying to move through those Mobs outside. What idiots. Again Brendel shakes his head. He had heard the Wolves compared to Rabid dogs…he could see the basis for that now. He also had, until now, believed that if something happened to Jerrick, the Wolves would be fine. Even with Jerrick here, at the best of times they were far from 'fine'. What a mess. Perhaps it was time to stop concealing the secrets he kept; keeping them hadn't stopped his fears from being realized.
Taking a deep breath to try to clear his head, Bren puts his 'comfy' clothes on. There was no need for the 'disguise' anymore. With how bad the city had gotten, he wouldn't be cruising the mobs. Taking food to the poorer sections of town, and then volunteering at the Soup kitchen was the plan now. Meilikki's gifts would best be used now to heal the unfortunates caught in Peltarch's meat-grinder streets.
Scratching again he paused, "what the fark am I doing??" thinking a moment he glances sharply to the ragged sailors clothes...."Lice!! FARK!!"
"What a goddamned day" Shaking his head once more in silence he belts on his sword and heads out, one late night trip to the Temple of the Triad. A quick prayer, and some healing supplies for tomorrow.
He moved slowly through the streets of the city. Always sticking to the walls and shadows. Out of habit moving to hidden positions when Guards came by, and now too, unruly groups of citizens. He'd seen it before, at night, under stress, having pointed ears around a bunch of humans could be like throwing dry grass on a fire.
He slowed even more when he entered the residential district, a feeling in his gut, something was off. Both hands under his cloak now, gripping sword and dagger loosely; senses on overdrive he prowls forward. Ears twitching to the right, he hears a muffled cry from the alley. Face hardening he flattens his back to the wall and inches to the corner. Poking just enough of his face to peer down the alley he pauses in sudden shock.
Right at the mouth of the dark alley was placed a trap line, obviously placed, while barely ten feet farther 2 shapes loomed facing out. 1 large enough to be a Halfer, the other human. There was nothing else in the alley but refuse...and here he was, a wonderfully open target to anyone across the...._
"No No NO!"
_Wrenching his body around trying at once to spin his protective cloak streetward, while turning his face to look in the same direction. Too late though. the TWHANG of a Light Crossbow was almost simultaneous with the meaty THUNK of a bolt hitting bare flesh.
The force of the bolt shoved him into the wall, a fireball of pain tearing a gasp from his throat as he felt his insides rip. Paying as little mind to a Bolt in the chest as he could, Brendel used his rebound from the wall to dash into the alley. Jumping the trap line and pulling his sword/dagger he knew his only chance would be to close with the archer's pals.
"One step, 9 more to go, two steps, 8 more to go…." THUNK This bolt pierced the cloak, though the force was greatly reduced, it still hammered into the back of his thigh. A truncated cry of pain escapes his throat, misting the air in front of him with blood.
Things slowed, the way they sometimes do. Moments stretching into hours, leaving you an eternity to watch your every move play itself out. Maniacally an odd thought pops into his head "If I was wearing pants that bolt never would have gotten through…" having seemingly all the time in the world now he spares a thought to curse Troff and Thorn.
The two thugs smelling blood, had done him the favour of closing the distance. Moving awkwardly, feeling a coldness spreading inside his chest that was at odds with the warmth of blood leaking down his skin. Brendel lunges and thrusts his sword through the humans chest. The scrape of Metal on bone vibrating through the handle told him he struck true.
Spinning his body into the wall away from the Horc and using the impaled sword as a lever he throws the human onto the trap line. Black spots exploded in front of his eyes. His maneuver had pushed the leg bolt into the wall, and too easily it erupted through his thigh, scraps of meat twined around it. Sudden pain making him tense, feeling something more tearing in his chest as his muscles contracted.
At the same time the thug hit the trap line, a bright flash of Smoke powder throwing jagged spikes through him. The opposite wall was suddenly -painted- with bits of skull, bone, and visceral fluids.
Hopelessly unable to stop himself from falling to his knees, Brendel looks up, trying to blink the spots away enough to see his attacker. It was just possible to see the twinkle of reflected light off of piggy eyes. With an almost startling gurgled cry of rage, the longsword slips from his grasp, sharply clattering on the alley floor.
With a leering yellowed grin the Horc steps up to the kneeling form. Varig would PAY to smash elves, but he wasn't about to complain about be paid to end this one. Watching the elf slumping in front of him he lowers his club._
"Elf, hey elfie, Scream for da Varig."
_His reply was a runner of bloody spit at his feet. Reaching his meaty paw forward he grasps the bolt in the elfs chest twisting and probing, then yanks it out viciously. Varig was rewarded with a scream of agony, accompanied with a gout of gore burbling from the wound.
Brendel couldn't help but curl his head onto the alley floor. NEVER had he imagined such pain. "You've got to LIVE! 2 enemies left…What do you do??" Reaching up with a blood sticky swordhand, he grasps the Horc behind the thigh. A disturbing chuckle rolling down from above.
"Keep laughing arsehole" A faded memory, bodies on cold slabs, insides open to smoky candle light. Lessons learned, voices echoing from the past "I am not teaching you to fight, I am teaching you to survive"
With a speed born of desperation, Brendel thrusts the dagger in his other hand past the Horcs crotch, plunging into the inner thigh...his turn now. Twisting, pushing, severing, finally ripping the blade down the inside of the Horcs leg. Arterial spray painting him with gore, a screaming bellow from the darkness above him. Rage giving Varig the strength to smash his club into the elf's head, before pitching forward stone dead.
Brendel could feel himself slipping. He wasn't sure if he couldn't see because it was a dark alley, or if his eyes were closed. Whatever it was, he just didn't care enough to wonder any longer. Every breath gurgled. He was cold inside now, pain on a level higher then he knew existed.
Though, some small comfort, the sticky blood coating him, pooling on the alley floor, was oddly warm. He could feel it running down his face. He had one wish, to just fall into the blackness. He could feel it waiting, pushing behind his eyes. What was keeping him here? ...a nagging NEED filling his belly, stopping him from curling up, from moving or twitching.
The archer picked his way lightly into the Alley. He had seen the Elf clearly before his first shot. He was sure it was the same one that had been standing over the body of his friend, Aaron. Though it had been hard to find him, money talks, and useless do-gooders always need some things. Like trips to churches, idiots.
He had watched the brutal seconds long scrap in the alley. He had a grudging sympathy for the Elf. The little bastard had fought hard. He wondered how he had killed the Horc, until he got close enough to see. Wincing in amazement that the Horc could still fell the Elf after taking such a terrible wound; he crouched over the body of the Elf looking around._
"Where is it?"
_Spotting the twined Wolf Fang and Illmatari Symbols on the hilt of the longsword he grinned. His grin widening as he took in the quality of the blade too…certainly enchanted. Farkin' elves wouldn't lower themselves to anything less.
Reaching over the body of the Elf, he let out a startled_ Oomph!! _As a bloody dagger was punched into his chest. Looking down he saw the eyes of the Elf. Dead eyes, no spark left in them, yet a bloody arm grasped the dagger IN his chest. he had enough left in him to wonder if he was killed by a fresh corpse…
The feeling in his gut released. Like a Dam breaking open the Darkness flooded over Brendel. He embraced it wholly, like a long lost Love come home.
In return it took him away...
letting him sink down...
...free at last?_
-
///Want to throw a quick shout-out to Robyn/Wolfhere for letting me piggyback one of her entries!! Thanks a bunch!!! The plan is to take a bit of a break with Bren, just keeping him up in the forums for a bit!! cheers to all who suffer through Brendels 'Journal' entries and send positive feedback; really keeps me coming back to it!! ///
_Early morning again. Brendel stepped off the ferry from Norwick, looking around alert and ready. He cursed softly as he headed to the Lucky Ferret. Taking mostly alley's; partly from habit, partly to avoid the mobs of rioters cruising around.
What a mess it had become here. "Can you take up your old ways? To help?" Snorting as he picked through an alley, nose twitching at the unusual plethora of smells. "help the people, I don't know, pick the pick pocketers, return the money??" Right. Shaking his head Brendel entered the Ferret. It didn't take long to arrange a space to stay in the back; and too stash his pack there.
Things seemed to be going his way so far. The next thing he needed was in the common room too. A group of sailors, looking like they'd been at it for a few days. -Exactly- what Bren needed. Buying two pitchers of ale he joined the suddenly VERY friendly sailors at he table. As they dug into the ale he looked them over._
"Ok gents. I need a new outfit. Yours, yours or yours to be precise"
Pointing as he spoke, already anticipating the silence. As it descended he tossed a small pouch of coins on the table; filling the sudden silence with the chink of cash.
"There's a change of clothes in the back room. Any takers??"
_The sailors looked back and forth, finally with a shrug one of the ones selected grabbed the coins and left for the back room. Nodding Brendel stood and got two more pitchers of ale. Waiting until the sailor returned, Brendel thanked them again, and retrieved his new outfit.
An hour later, another sailor joined a larger group of rioters in the streets. The Elf with his many wild tattoos and an ear filled with studs and hoops gave the impression he could very well be a pirate. His clothing stank of spirits and ale, and looked like he had been living in them for a week.
Brendel moved within the mob. Letting the old skills come to the fore. It was easy really. It was like being with the pack; you just tapped into something greater then yourself. This wasn't a group of people, it was one entity, one -mob- Once you let yourself go, you could work within it. He moved through it fluidly. Filling the dead spaces most people didn't see, or didn't think of.
That accomplished, he looked to the next order of business. The hardest thing. What exactly could he do to help these people?? Well; he was just a little fish too. He couldn't restore peace, stop the riots, make all the peoples happy. He had to think smaller. That's how you moved mountains. One pebble at a time.
So going back to THOSE skills; in this confusion, thieves thrived, violence too. Anybody with a score to settle would be looking to do it under mask of the mob. Giving a hoarse shout with the rest of the mob he kept flowing. Goals then. Disrupt small operations, protect whom he could. No problem. he gave another snort as his inner monologue kept turning.
Over the next day he flowed with the mobs, dripping from one to the next. Hoping his efforts wouldn't draw any unwanted attention. He 'bumped' into pickpockets as they struck, throwing them off target. Occasionally finding those that would shed blood, he would shout and get angry, drawing the attention of the guards. If that didn't work he would use other methods to dissuade these folk. A feral looking Elf with two daggers in his fists was enough to turn most would be assassins from their targets.
Late at night, when things died down, he would retrieve his bow. Bringing a feral cat or two into the Soup kitchens, and to the camps of poor folk in the slums. Double duty. Free food and lending a small hand to those making their lives outside the city walls.
A few days in, as he joined the flow once more… Different this time. He could feel it, sense it. The future scent of blood came to his nose. It spoke to the beast within; it was going to end badly today...maybe. He could work this, turn it. Soon after he got -that- feeling. Nostrils flaring ears twitching he looked around. There were sharks in the water today.
What was this?? Others were influencing the people. Alert he did what predators do, watch, listen, learn. Soon he spotted them. A few men spread around the edges of the crowd.
Oh they were good!
This had been planned, someone wanted someone dead bad. He flowed along curious now..they were using sign to communicate with each other. Smart. Brendel blinked in surprise, they were using a mix....sign and the dialect found in the darker places within cities. It didn't take long for him to be making sense of their communication. He made note of them, simple weapons they had too. Not a good sign. Soon he saw more, with a shiver he blanched. Occasionally they would pass a lookout, or maybe coordinator, who would give updated instructions. Usually located in upper stories of buildings. As the day progressed, more groups of people were led in to join this main body, led by more stooges. The head stooge on the street carried a polished hickory stick.
Soon Brendel felt his spirit flagging, most of the people around him were simple folk, unhappy with the situation thrust upon them by those above. He could see it in their faces though. They knew things were getting bad today, they had no idea why, and couldn't get out either. The Will of the Mob was too strong. Brendel couldn't stop this, or curb it. Too well planned. For one brief moment he was almost overwhelmed by defeat. Cursing again, this time at himself he pushed forward. Next step, Damage control.
All too soon they hit the wall. Everybody here... their world suddenly brought into focus as only this space. 20 paces between them and a wall of guards. Brendel almost wept. Pushing his Elven respect for life into a hole inside he palmed his daggers. He watched as Stick man glanced up too a window...another lookout...signing...._
" sgn/thvescant> The guardswomen in Silk "
_Brendel glanced once more to the line of guards…Yana. Even back when he was working the streets of pelt...his teachers always warned of her. Guess they had finally found their chance to make life easier on themselves. Checking the window once more his eyes narrowed, a quiver of bolts leaned on the window frame behind the light curtain. Sloppy.
Brendel chewed his lower lip. Yana was good, real good, guards with her too. Would he be more help down here, or up there?? Shouts erupted from around him, herding the mob forward towards the guards. In turn, the Guards shouted back warning the crowd off. No longer could he flow smoothly through them, nobody could. Everybody seemed to have bunched together for comfort, security against what was coming...NOW! Brendel pushed and wormed his way across the street, getting free of the mob in a recessed doorway.
Getting his bearings he thanked the gods he had made it to the right building. Forcing the door under cover of the noisy mob he slid inside closing it behind himself.
Aaron knelt low beside the window sill watching events unfold. He had cocked and armed the crossbow, keeping it just low out of sight. He watched as the guards and his men pushed the crowd over the edge, violence erupting. As the melee erupted he kept his eyes on that bitch Yana. He would get his chance any moment now.....blinking he felt a strange sensation....warm liquid running down his back. Half turning, his eyes met the deep eyes of an Elf?? They seemed to shade darker as he looked into them. Another thrust into his neck this time. Aaron died perplexed, spotting a symbol of Illmater hanging from the elf's neck...
Brendel quickly wiped both daggers clean on the bodies clothing; one eye watching the scene below, one ear cocked to listen behind him. Message time. He draped the body half out of the window. Watching now his heart opened once more in sorrow.
The fighting slowed...a half circle was formed around Yana. Formed by the twitching mess of leftover instigators...and a few poor souls who got too caught up in the mob._
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!"
His heart went out to her as he watched her crumple to the ground, broken, but not in body. Eyes shading back to light he scanned the remaining crowd. There! A man looked up to the window, his mouth gaping open as he spotted the corpse. Brendel recognized him..had been watching him and the others all day. Time to send the message home.
"sign>We are watching you."
_Holding up his fist so the man could see the Wolf Fang dangling from it.
The mob started to disperse almost immediately, Brendel could smell the guilt and shame. He turned back to look at Yana, still crying, broken for the moment.
Slowly tears came unbidden to his eyes. How does she cope? Where does she find peace? Relief from her burdens? With a slightly amused twitch of his ears he realized he was murmuring a quick prayer; to see her at ease again. Not the most religious elf, Brendel shakes his head, turns his back to the scene and heads out once more.
Soon the Mob would forget the glimpse of humanity it had been given here, the gift would be put on the shelf. Brendel was sure the Mob would repeat this scene in the time ahead. Well fark, he had the time, he would be around too. Not a leader, just a what?? Messenger, hells his mouth always got him into trouble. He would make sure not everybody would be able to forget this scene. Stepping out of the door, he glanced over to the knot of guards and her still slouched form. Burning the scene to memory he skulked off._
-
"I Won't Back Down" - The immortal Johnny Cash
Well I won't back down, no I won't back down
You can stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won't back downGonna stand my ground, won't be turned around
And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down
Gonna stand my ground and I won't back downHey baby, there ain't no easy way out
Hey I will stand my ground and I won't back downWell I know what's right, I got just one life
In a world that keeps on pushin' me around
But I stand my ground and I won't back downHey baby, there ain't no easy way out
Hey I will stand my ground and I won't back down
No I won't back down._The sun was rising slowly in the East. Kneeling beside the Den's garden, Brendel patiently watched sunlight creeping down the cliff-face above. He was deeply immersed in the whole scene. The morning chorus had been singing for some time; Birds it seemed, were always in tune to what was happening. Especially in this place. He knelt, head bowed. His face a mix of reverence and sorrow. As the sunlight edged closer to the garden he spoke his thanksgiving to the world around him.
Gently he took the small weed from the basket beside him. With great care he planted it in the edge of the garden. He wasn't even aware he was murmuring through the whole process._
"e>Corellon give me the strength for the days ahead. Grant me the fortitude to carry on…."
_He continued the prayer as he gently moved the earth back in around the roots of the plant. Taking a moment he leaned back on his heels; with a slow movement he raised his head, taking in once again, the view around himself.His attitude changing slightly, he takes a small homespun cloth from the basket, and a small sealed clay pot. Breaking the seal gently he sniffed reflexively at the water contained within. Smiling, he wets the cloth, then gently rubs the bottommost leaf of the weed. Slowly, reverently, he repeats the process for each leaf on the plant. Murmuring:_
"e>Meilikki, you have shown me much favour. Though I have grown in the dark for some time now,keep your gaze with me awhile longer. That I may show you the goodness that springs from the roots you planted…"
_Brushing some loose hair from his face he puts the damp cloth back into the basket. Breathing a deep breath in, he quiets his murmuring a moment. Looking at the small plant, sadness creeps over his features. Slowly a tear rolls down his cheek. They couldn't even tell him where she was buried. He let the anger leave him as he breathed evenly. He really didn't have it in him now. No room for hate or anger; that would not be his way now.
The task done he leans forward and strokes the stem of the plant with the back of his fingers. He had planned to do this as a ceremony of sorts…inviting all, any who would come share this moment for her. But the World moves on, regardless of personal horrors. It was better this way though. Too many people wouldn't understand. Too many people would bring the wrong emotions, the wrong feel to this. He wondered really, if anyone would see his reasons for picking this plant too; beyond the irony of the name.
Rising slowly, he began to murmur once more:_
"Illmater, grant her the peace she should have, that one so tortured in life may rest at last. Allow me the knowledge to know when compassion will not be enough. Give me the strength to bear the burden of the lives I will have to take in the time to come….."
_For awhile longer he stands eyes closed, praying. His attitude now one of determination. Finally, he turns and leaves. Grabbing his pack he heads South.
Slowly the water wiped on the leaves beads up, revealing the namesake of this beautiful plant. The water beads forming into tiny gems, reflecting the Dawn light._
///Jewelweed rocks! I had hoped to work some of its properties into the story…but it just didn't go that way!!
Here's a link though...if you care!
http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Jewelweed.html
-
come on in! - Charles Bukowski
welcome to my wormy hell.
the music grinds off-key.
fish eyes watch from the wall.
this is where the last happy shot was
fired.
the mind snaps closed
like a mind snapping
closed.
we need to discover a new will and a new
way.
we're stuck here now
listening to the laughter of the
gods.
my temples ache with the fact of
the facts.
I get up, move about, scratch
myself.
I'm a pawn.
I'm a hungry prayer.
my wormy hell welcomes you.
hello. hello there. come in, come on in!
plenty of room here for us all,
sucker.
we can only blame ourselves so
come sit with me in the dark.
it's half-past
nowhere
everywhere._Night fell over Norwick, and with it the last rush of banged up adventurers slipping through the gate. Taking advantage of the twilight light, and the commotion of bleeding whiny adventurers; Brendel slipped in and quickly moved on into town proper.
Scaling the small earthworks and sticking to the shadows he made his way carefully to the Grapevine. How do you balance banishment, guilt, and too much rat meat? By having a little fun sneaking, and getting a good chicken dinner every so often. ….Badger jerky helps too.
Waiting quietly behind the Inn; watching the regulars slowly trickle out. Ears twitching he listened intently by the backdoor. Finally satisfied he'd find no troublemakers within he entered. Glancing about the now darkened room Brendel circles the room grabbing some nibbles from the kitchen, winding up behind the bar.
As he leaves a quick thank you note and some coins he pauses...staring under the countertop. The coins drop from a hand suddenly slack, everything slowing down as he focuses on a small bundle. It has his name on it....in HER writing.
Eyes narrowing his hand flies to his sword hilt as he suddenly scans the room again._
"The Hells?" _His hoarse whisper sounding out way to loudly in the quiet room.
Hands shaking he slowly, reluctantly? lifts the package and tucks it into his pack. Near stumbling out the back door of the inn, he makes his way South. Only reflexes turning his near stumble-jumps into impact absorbing rolls as he makes his way over the earthworks and beyond the Southgate.
Making his way over to his new adopted best friend…Bob. Brendel crouches down under the shadows of the gibbet. Looking around he draws a deep wavering breath, then opens the small package. A small book, and a letter. Feeling his heart start to beat faster, he slumps onto the pole beside him.
Unfolding the letter he angles it outwards to catch what moonlight it can. Enough to read by with his Elven sight. Even having barely begun to read he shudders, shoulders wracking violently as he starts to cry. Not bothering to wipe his eyes or settle himself he holds the letter a little farther out; so his tears don't spoil it.
Once he finishes the short letter he stares up at the Moon for awhile, silent tears running down his face, the letter loose in one hand._
"My poor dear" _Shaking his head he looks down at the small book, hesitation plainly written across his face.
Slowly he folds the letter and tucks it into his belt pouch, taking up the book just as slowly. Flipping it from back to front only a very few pages actually have writing in them. Sighing he begins to read.
As he reads, his face takes on a look of heartfelt sorrow and anguish. The persistent shaking that had so plagued him comes to a stop, a newer deeper pain lancing into him. He blinks and chokes, the raw feelings overloading him so completely that emotion becomes physical. Unbearably open to the book; to himself. It all floods into him, Rage, Guilt, Helplessness, Sorrow and Loss. Sympathy for the hapless victims, sympathy for his poor lost Love…but no outlet.
Body thrumming with tension, he lurches to his feet, head snapping back, the veins in his neck bulging out, tendons taut as his jaw is pulled open. Brendel lets it all out, gives it to the moon, the sky, whatever vastness lays beyond. A primal Howl; taking everything out of him, like a great sickness purging. Degrading finally into a hoarse yell, till finally his head hits the dirt, his body collapsing with exhaustion.
Panting into the earth, he can taste it. Wet earthy aroma made thick into taste. Letting the smell/taste fill his belly. Where was he now? Eyes rolling, he looks to the sky. It was all still there; but the edge was gone. Sorrow though, bleak sorrow. With a weak grin he coughs, voice croaking, shallow and spent._
"Enjoy the show Bob?" Looking at the bleached half-skull hanging from the chain he cackles slightly, coughing, rubbing his throat.
-
"Pain Redefined" -Disturbed
Fading, falling, lost in forever
Will I find a way to keep it together?
Am I strong enough to last through the weather in the hurricane of my life?
Can it be a conscious decision?
That I look for ways to alter my vision?
Am I speeding towards another collision in the alleyways of my life?Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Those who have fallen in
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Those who have fallen inPlease believe me
That my eyes deceive me?
Don't stand me up
Just leave me
I have fallen again
This is the end
Pain redefinedShaking, burning up with the fever
In the realm of pain, I am the deceiver
Now I lie to myself, so I can believe her
As she disassembles my life
I cannot dispel the illusion
All my hopes and dreams are drowned by confusion
Can I find a way to make a solution that will reconfigure my life?Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Those who have fallen in
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Memories don't lie
You know better than
Those who have fallen inPlease believe me
That my ears deceive me
Don't stand me up
Just leave me
I have fallen again
This is the end
Pain redefinedAnd I know that stillness shatters
We have all been frightened by the
The sound of footsteps on the pavement of our lives
I stand and fight
I'm not afraid to die
Elochai, bury me tonightPlease believe me
That the world deceives me
Don't stand me up
Just leave
I have fallen again
This is the end
Pain redefined
-
_Brendel sat, and allowed himself a slight chuckle. He shouldn't have brought his friend in. Carefully taking note of the atmosphere of fear floating in the small basement; he continued to stare forward. It was, he thought, a fitting example of the idea he had been trying to put his finger on for weeks.
You can't bring a wolf into a den of sheep. A figurative wolf, or an actual wolf. Finally understanding that concept he nudged the curled up furry form under the table._
"It's time to go home."
_Standing, he sheathed his sword and his dagger, pausing slightly as the symbol of Illmater brushed his wrist. With a shake of his head, Brendel headed out the door, back straight. A large scarred wolf, with a bit of an amused expression on its face, stepped out from under the table; gold eyes scanning the room as it pads out after him.As they head North out of the gate, the Elf paused. Head cocked. The wolf took a few more steps forward before stopping, head peering back over its shoulder._
"Wait friend, not Narfell home, my home. Whats left of it anyways."
Making a motion North-East, they head off. The wolf not seeming to care either way what direction they headed.
////Note: I've got more for this, I'm just a wee brain fried from all the travelling!! later today I hope!
-
_When he knew the sight of her under the wall would be hidden by the night he turned around. This wasn't like the last time. Before he had known he was leaving, no idea where, just away. Looking at the lights of Norwick he shook his head slightly.
-Never- had he imagined she would send him away; nor that he would go. Sighing, he hadn't even seen everybody again. Eli, Alestra, Jerrick. Fark…Albry was going to be pissed....
Eyes widening slightly....Feather was going to....he couldn't guess what. And he hadn't even had a chance to sneak the gods damned suit of armour back to her. He shook his head again.
Turning his back to Norwick....to Jaelle, he looked South. Fark what a mess. Taking a few minutes to think of some semblance of a plan. His mind kept wandering back to her. Her scent clung to him still, maddeningly intoxicating. Ears drooping at the thought of her, he looked to the ground.
She had promised, enough to satisfy anyway. Now he had to hold up his end. Miles of deadly woods ahead. Ok. Final destination? the Sea of fallen stars, lots of port cities there. He would find what he needed. Now to get there.
His nose twitched at the scent of undead wafting from the South. wincing slightly he grabbed his bandaged side. Perfect. Still wounded, no bow, and one hell of a lot of regrets. He started south, one slow step at a time.
Telflamm,
The shadows in a certain alley flowed smoothly. Not a sound whispering as the elf appeared at a seemingly little used door, set almost below street level. On well oiled hinges it swung open, he entered closing it behind himself.
Ears and nose doing their thing Brendel scanned the small room. A short bar, no tables in the floorspace, just curtained booths lining the walls, and a staircase at the back. The kind of place unsavory people go to hide, to be forgotten. Hopefully it would be a good place to do some forgetting.
The wasted woman behind the bar watched the Elf come in. She frowned slightly. He didn't look like the normal lurkers; he didn't come in afraid, one eye behind him. She eyed him as he approached her, wary. With his functional clothing, many tattoos, and the studded ear he looked like he belonged here. But there was something more, a wildness, his eyes gleamed with a feral light._
"I want a wineglass, I want it to never run dry, and I don't want to be spoken too or disturbed, alright? "
The elf looked directly into her eyes, confidant and direct. He dropped a small handful of gold coins on the table half turning away then stopping.
"And a meal, one a day. Vegetables, in a broth. Is that manageable? "
_Waiting for her nod, he turns and heads to a booth. From there he could see the doorway, the staircase and the small window level with the alley floor set above the bar.Throwing his pack and cloak into the dark corner of the booth, he lays his sword sheathed on the table in front of him. Sliding one of his daggers onto his lap just in case. Nodding slightly as the woman sets a full mug of wine onto the table in front of him; he takes a deep breath and settles his mind, welcoming himself to his new home.
Now all he had to do was not think about his oaths to his pack and to Norwick. Not let worry or his love for Jaelle destroy what Will he had left.
And sure as Hell not think about how disturbed he was that he didn't see Feather before he left. Taking deep sips of wine and seemingly not Blinking. Setting his gaze straight ahead, curtained booth open wide, Brendel sat._
-
The warm sun beat on Brendel's face; oddly it seemed to be causing him pain. In the chest. Slowly opening his eyes he spent a minute in confused reverie. Taking a deep breath to clear his foggy head, he coughed. Then had to spit a mouthful of blood out.
'The hells??'
_Carefully he revised his initial thought. He wasn't wrapped around a tree. He was wrapped around a tree-STUMP. Coughing again, he revised it once more. He was wrapped around a tree-stump, WITH broken ribs.Groaning softly he slowly started freeing himself from the debris pile. A smile spread as he remembered the night before. One HELL of a Storm. His heart sped up just thinking about it. Towards the end, the wind was so fierce he actually FLEW!… blinks which explains perfectly his present condition.
Right. Slowly carefully he moved a few paces onto the beach. Debris was everywhere. Looking in the direction of the village he grimaced. It was a mess; he could already see the men repairing huts and boats.
Using an arm on a crooked tree Brendel lowered himself to the ground. Closing his eyes half-way he murmurs a prayer, then he turned his focus inward. Picturing his insides (as best he could) and the warm feeling of healing. Tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, he felt Mielikki's blessings mend his chest.
Standing and wiping the blood from his mouth he headed into the village; spending the day doing whatever he could to help rebuild.
Relaxed sitting by his small fire Brendel looks out over the ocean again. For days now he had been feeling...restless. Glancing up at the sky, he knew he had as much peace as he could hope for. Something though still held him here. He felt like he should wait. So he was.
His muscles burned with the comfortable afterglow of a full days hard work. The last bit had been putting a new lean-to together, and digging up his pack. Sipping his tea he sat, peaceful and happy. The last thing he did before curling into his shelter was to re-hang the Wolf-fang and Holy Symbol.
Once more Brendel slipped from his reverie. His posture, breathing and attitude didn't change. Whatever he felt was stalking him would have no idea he was now aware. Ears twitching slightly he tried to extend his senses outwards. He could feel it....something was certainly coming for him. ....one ear flicked as he heard a faint give-away compression of earth. CLOSE!! ....behind the shelter then.
With a blurred movement Brendel rolled out onto the beach, sword and a dagger appearing in his hand. Eyes and ears scanning the shadowed brush, nose twitching. For a moment he couldn't find anything, then his eyes focused on a lightly shaded shadow. Keeping low, sword point steady, dagger blade protruding downwards out of his fist Brendel slid sideways; making sure there was a clear path between himself and his adversary.
At the same moment that the shadow moved towards him he caught a scent...familiar. Woodsmoke, and, Wolf. Eyes widening slightly as the old scarred Wolf stepped onto the beach, golden eyes leaping out in the starlight.
Dropping his weapons into the sand, Brendel let out a wordless cry of Joy. Rushing forward he wrapped his arms around the wolfs neck; the beast letting go of its dignity long enough to lick his face a few times._
'Gah!! Why does that keep happening!'
_Roughly he scratched behind its ears. This was it. Standing slowly, the Wolf not letting more then a few paces between them Brendel set about restoring his little piece of land. Scattering the materials he had used to build, cleaning up his small fire pit. Finally he took the time to pray, and twine the leather cords of his keepsakes together. Tying them to the hilt of his sword he buckled his weapons on.Glancing around once more he set off with a happy nod, the Wolf at his side. Come morning, the local women were perplexed. The Elf was gone….not a trace he was ever there. In the area where he had lived were the tracks of some beast. Murmuring prayers of thanks they went back to their daily lives.
The burly ships Mate looked at this Elf in front of him. Once in awhile he glanced to the ...dog? standing close._
"It'll be extra, taking the beast. And no trouble from it or it'll have te swim back!"
The Elf just nodded, handing over a sum of coins. the Mate shivered slightly. Both the Elf and the dog (?) looked a bit too wild for his taste.
"Where North did ye say you were headed?"
Glancing North, East, nose twitching slightly"Home."
-
Maggie May-Rod Stewart
Wake up Maggie
I think I got something to say to you;
it's late September and I really should be back at school.
I know I keep you amused
but I feel I'm being usedoh Maggie
I couldn't have tried anymore.
You lured me away from home
just to save you from being alone.
You stole my heart and that's what really hurts.The morning sun when it's in your face
really shows your age
but that don't worry me none
in my eyes you're ev'rything.
I laughed at all of your jokes
my love you didn't need to coaxoh
Maggie
I couldn't have tried anymore.
You lured me away from home
just to save you from being alone.
You stole my soul
that's a pain I can do without.
All I needed was a friend to lend a guiding handbut you turned into a lover
and
Mother
what a lover !
You wore me out.
All you did was wreck my bed
and in the morning kick me in the headoh
Maggie
I couldn't have tried anymore.
You lured me away from home
'cause you didn't want to be alone.
You stole my heart
I couldn't leave you if I tried.
I suppose I could collect my books and get back to school.
Or steal my daddy's cue and make a living out of playing pool.
Or find myselfe a rock and roll band that needs a helpin' hand.Oh Maggie
I wish I'd never seen your face.
You lured me away from home
just to save you from being alone.
You stole my heart and that's what really hurts.oh Maggie
I couldn't have tried any face
you made a first-class fool out of me
but I'm as blind as a fool can be
you stole my heart but I love you anyway.
Maggie
I wish I'd never seen your face.
I'll get on back home one of these days.
_Faria stirred slightly in his sleep. The welcome smell of a cooking breakfast tickling his nose. It took a few moments to remember that he was still a day's travel from the woman who would make him breakfast…and that the only other creatures in camp with him, mules, couldn't cook.
With a short worried yell he bolted upwards, but tangled in his bedroll, fell back down. Looking wildly around he spotted the fire, with breakfast cooking on it. Everything else was as he left it, except for his few mules untethered and eating some feed. As well as the overly amused face of an Elf, eyes dancing with suppressed laughter.
Brendel leaned with exaggerated casualness on the side of a mule. Arms crossed and ears twitching slightly between the sounds of eating mules and Faria's scrambling._
"I hope that's not the way you greet Pei'lieu every morning when SHE makes you breakfast Faria."
Brendels mouth twitching into a broad smile as he speaks. With a show of being angry, Faria sharply untangled himself and gathered his dignity.
Quickly snatching up the plate as he forced a glare at Brendel:
"For that smile your sporting, I'm not sharing breakfast with you!"
Eyes sparkling even brighter Brendel makes a slight motion towards Farias packs; where an obviously used plate sits.
"Brendel!! How long have you been here?? Why didn't you wake me? We're a day away from the Village, why are you here…"
With a loud happy laugh Brendel cuts Faria short.
"I've been here since before you arrived, you will need your rest before keeping that widow you're courting up all night tonight, we are a day away how you travel yes, and I figured I'd walk you in this time around. Did I miss anything? tilts head sideways slightly I'm ready to leave when you are."
_Faria led his small mule train along, following Brendel down the sandy path. Idly he wondered about this strange Elf. The village was different since Brendel showed up. It was more…animated, Faria was always being told the latest gossip and tales that Brendel had let 'slip'. Chilling tales, battles, curses, dragons, liches. It was too much to believe! And the pirate love story?? And the way he acted...unlike the few other elves Faria had met.Faria shook his head slightly. None of the villagers had ever met any elf, and likely wouldn't again. They had begun to whisper things about Brendel; that he was some sort of spirit, lost, some say to bring good fortune to the village. Whatever he was, Faria was always bringing extra food and other needed things back at Brendel's request. He certainly spent his gold freely whatever he was.
Suddenly taking a sharp breath,_ "Brendel, another letter for you." _Digging it out and handing it forward to the Elf. Brendel opened it and read it silently without breaking stride. Staring at the Elf's back he could see Brendel's shoulders start to shake a bit, thinking the elf to be crying, he lowered his gaze to the sandy path between them.
To see that Brendel didn't leave a track, or even a mark, as he walked through the lightly shifting sand
As he struggled with the renewed peasant rumours flowing through his head; he realized that Brendel wasn't crying, he was giving a low chuckle…_
_Brendel sat next to his shelter, in the shade. Looking out over the water he thought back over the latest letter. It was so…mature. Grimacing he pondered that. He didn't often think about his age; forgetting just how young he was among his people. He wondered if it showed so plainly to those that knew him.
Thinking back, he remembered the face of his older brother as Brendel made his 'escape'. Until now he hadn't understood it. His brother had already given up playing; obviously ready to take life seriously. Ready to "grow up" to roll over and slowly wait for death, letting everything between then and the end just happen in front of him.
Absently, his pulse began to quicken. He had arrived at that time. The time to make that decision, grow up, fit so perfectly among the expectations of his people, of his friends. Let everything...dull. Take the edge out of pain, pleasure, joy, sorrow. His nose twitched scenting something... He could choose to go the other way. Life was a game, sometimes the stakes were high, too high. But still a game. Play it through, feel everything, don't hold back. Spend every minute of time he had left striving for more...
The letter in his hand folded backwards suddenly as a gust of wind hit it.
With a frown that grew quickly into a grin, Brendel glanced up and out once more. A storm was rolling in, fast and sudden. Quickly he pulled his two keepsakes down from the rafter, the Fang and the Symbol of Illmater, along with the vest and boots he was wearing they all got shoved into his magic bag. As an after thought so did his sword and daggers. Looking over his shoulder at a sharp crack of thunder he quickly dug a small pit. Throwing the bag in and covering it he jumped up.Laughing for joy as another big gust hit him, he ran down the beach, closer to the water.
That night the worst storm of the season hit the small village. Between the sound of the rain and the howling winds, the thunder only sounded as petulant rumblings. Midway through the night the wind tore the roof off of Madri's house. As she and her husband wrestled each other into the closest hut to theirs, she glanced down the beach to see a shocking sight in flashes of lightning. A figure out on the beach, seemingly dancing. Tumbling in the winds, leaping, and no doubt howling, eyes ablaze.
With a quick mumbled prayer she helped her husband pull the door shut. Huddling close to the small fire, pushing out the sounds of the storm raging outside; trying not to feel the cold water soaking them._
-
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. he said "My son, the battle is between two wolves."
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity,guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied "The one you feed."
-Unattributed
_The Elf sat on the beach, comfortably poised and unmoving. No longer sun burned, he once more looks like one who lives outdoors. Though the deep tan doesn't cover the mass of scars over his torso, or hide how they break up his covering of lined tattoos. The occasional flicker of his ears are the only hint that he is anything but a statue.
Eyes half closed, Brendel delved inside. Finding that cold spot, the hole. He didn't know if it was remaining taint from the Well, or some bit of his madness. Its possible it was always there, that it was where the whispers came from in every person who spilled blood. Maybe his madness or the Well Taint just brought it out into the light. He didn't worry about its origins anymore, focusing now on filling it.
Quietly he sat, breathing slowly and deeply. A slight grimace crossing his face as he sunk deeper into himself. As he went, he left himself open; letting the slow rhythm of the ocean fill the hole behind. Taking everything in. The sound of the sand shifting with the water. Shorebirds calling, the wind sighing through the treetops behind him. ….The sound of Madri and a few other women tramping across the beach towards him.
Brendel let out a short happy chuckle, imaging what his Soul might be like if he was imprinted with a few Peasant Shipwives. Bringing himself back to the beach, opening his eyes and glancing towards them. The chuckle was quickly replaced with a grunt.
As an Elf with 3 older sisters, he instantly sprung to full alertness upon seeing the looks in the ladies faces. Ears twitching forwards he rapidly glanced over each one. Suppressed laughter, suppressed laughter...wide eyes with hands behind back...giggling, staring at toes...wait...hands behind back..._
"Madri? WHAT are you up too? tilting head to the side slightly
"Faria brung a lett'r back fer ye."
It took a moment for that to register, there is only one person who knows how to get in contact with him. For a moment Brendel wasn't entirely sure he wanted to read it…the moment passed quickly though. Eyes narrowing as he once more looked over the ladies; quickly guessing where this was going.
"Fine. What is it you want before I can have the letter?"
"The song I be teachin' ye. Sing it fer us."
Brendel let out a loud groan, remembering just how badly some of his attempts at singing have been going.
"ok….but if it doesn't sound right I still get the letter??"
Seeing her glance to the others then nod, he motioned them to sit. Closing his eyes and trying to focus on singing over what might be in the letter. Breathing deep a few times, humming to himself quietly a moment.I'm singing this song to the one I love best,
And her picture is tattooed all over my chest.Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.
Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.There are fish in the sea there's no doubt about it,
Just as fine as the ones that ever came out of it.Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.
Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.Little fish when he's caught he fights like a bull whale,
That thrashes the water with his mighty tail.Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.
Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.The ship's underway and the weather is fine.
The skipper's down aft hanging out other lines.Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.
Hay ho little fishes, don't cry, don't cry.The crew are asleep and the ocean's at rest,
And I'm singing this song to the one I love best.
((A traditional Sea Shantie, not my own creation))_Brendel opened his eyes slowly, smiling. He had actually managed to hit the notes properly, AND keep rhythm…this time around. It was unfortunately, hit and miss so far. Looking at the ladies, his stomach tightened slightly. She had written him, who else could it be? Taking the offered letter he started to sit in front of the ladies, then changed his mind. Standing straight...and a bit stiffly, he slowly opened the letter. Before reading Brendel glances out to the ocean, willing the slight tremble in his hands to stop.
"How is it she affects me so?? still??"
The ladies watched closely as he started to read aloud in a clear voice. In the few stories they had heard, Elves were aloof and detached, this one was strange though. Much of how he felt was directly translated through his movements...and he was so...twitchy. Even now his ears twitched forward and back, his nose occasionally too. It was like watching some animal.
He had to start the letter twice, frowning slightly. Making sure he read the crossed out words to them as well, when he could make them out.
Suddenly a few lines in he stopped, swaying slightly then giving a dark chuckle._"Dammit! Is their anyone she hasn't killed!! …I wonder what happened?"
He takes a moment staring down the beach with a searching look, then shakes his head slightly getting back to the letter. Finishing it quickly, he crumples cross-legged to the sand in front of the ladies…confused?"What the hells…"
Quickly reading it too himself again, lips moving. Looking at the women he reads it out loud again. A slight flush coming into his face."…What...am I reading too much into this? FARK!! THIS is why I don't do letters!! What in the Hells am I supposed to think of this?? "
sputtering a moment, then throwing himself onto his back talking at the sky"Fark me. Do I write again? I can't go back, not yet. I'd tear myself apart in a month. What if something happens to her though?? bites lip e>Damn me like an Orc kissing fool!!
_Laying their several long moments, a wealth of emotions spilling over his face. Glancing every so often at the letter, then back up to the sky. Finally with a determined look, Brendel stands. Squaring his shoulder he strides into the village, rummaging through the bags on Faria's mules till he finds some writing materials.
Sitting down in the shade with the ladies around, and a cup of water at his side. He slowly works through a quick letter, trying to pick out useful advice from the ladies gathered around.
The next morning finds him sitting statue like on the beach again, ears twitching, as Faria carries another letter away._ 09e04a761d
-
_Madri cursed from habit as she hauled on the beached fishing net. After pulling up more slack her hands went back to sewing, eyes wandering back up the beach. Eyes and hands both stopped briefly as she spotted a figure down the beach; obviously having just picked its way out of the dense foliage ringing the Inlet. Satisfying herself that this was most unusual, and certainly of interest, she went back to her sewing.
Keeping her attention split between figure and net, she decided it had to be a woman approaching. The figure was short, and very slight. With a passing shiver she noted the woman didn't walk so much as prowl across the beach. Stepping slowly, gracefully, stopping every so often to look around herself. In this manner the woman approached close enough to give Madri a real shock._
"An Elf…and a Man!"
Very pale green, almond shaped eyes twinkled merrily with amusement as Brendel gazed at the Fishwife.
"I take it you do not see many of my kind here?"
Madri blinked somewhat shocked, realizing she had spoken aloud. A slow flush crept across her face in embarrassment. Looking down to her sewing and yanking at it viciously to cover her mistake. Taking a minute or two to recover her dignity, she looked up again, eyes widening as she stared.
"Do all yer ears flap an itch like them??"
The flush creeping back onto her face slowly. Glancing from his long ears…most certainly twitching around like some sort of beast, to his face. She watched as he slowly tilted his head to the side bringing one of his hands up to flick an ear. Brendel replies, voice pitched low and calmly, though his eyes dance even faster with suppressed mirth.
"No milady, just mine."
His eyes flick up and past her, too the growing throng of people slowly gathering. His eyes gaining a mischevious glint to them as he leans in real close to her ear and whispers
"Where may I find the Headman? or elders?
_He nods as she indicates a few huts behind the small group. Then straightening and giving a deep courtiers bow, he then pads past her and through the group of villagers. A wide grin appearing on his face as from the corner of his eye he watches a group of women go running over to the fishwife, teasing and badgering her.
Within a few days, Brendel is comfortably established down the beach. A small lean-to shelter, very small fire-pit. A few daily habits are all that moves him from laying on the beach. Some time spent gathering enough to survive one more day, and a few hours spent talking with the elders of the village; learning local knowledge and stories.
It didn't take long to gain the friendship of the villagers. The exotic nature of his race helped certainly, as did his friendly, playful manner.
Within a short time, he could expect to spend much of the hottest part of the day, with a bevy of local women and children. It didn't take them more then a few hours to tease his tale of woe from him. He still chuckled to himself remembering the looks on their faces when he mentioned how he had also fallen hopelessly in love with a pirate.
Within the week, the village was visited by a merchant who was quite smitten with a local widow. That day Brendel purchased some of the areas spirits from him, a dark sugary drink, and borrowed some writing apparatus.
Soon he was stretched out on the beach, with a small gaggle of women around, sharing the spirits, and trying to get some semblance of a letter written._
"No its not a love letter dammit!…....no, shes with the one she loves.....No! its just an update!!...Fark me!! You're all as bad as a bunch of ...well...peasants!! "
Taking a moment gazing out at the Sea, composing some semblance of thought, he begins too write, dictating his words to the women as he pens them. Very quickly a flush creeps over his sunburned face and a feral gleam lights in his eyes. Hearing what he was writing at the moment, the suddenly stern older women grab him up,
"Ye got sich a look o'devilry about ye!!"
Grabbing him up, half firmly, half playfully pushing him towards the water. Within moments the small group is in the sea 'cooling down' After a bit of horseplay, they head back. Finishing the letter, casting somewhat sheepish looks to the ladies, he sends it off that night with the merchant Faria. Still looking off awhile after the merchant passes from sight.
"Fark me!! I hate writing letters!! What was that?? clutches head then throws hands into air I'm a complete idiot!! It was ramblings!! Why did I write at all?? kicks a bit of sand, then grabs a handful up and tosses it viciously…sputtering as the wind brings most of it back into his face …dammit Brendel, you're a fool." Shaking his head ruefully at himself he heads back to his shelter, making a small fire and once more resuming his watch. Absorbing the peace of the night sky into himself.
-
The water broke easily across the bow; creating a rhythm felt gently through the body. Standing at the bow, the whole ship near quiet behind him, aside from the sound of the wind in the Sails. It was peaceful.
_"I'm going to break you"
"I know Jaelle, I'll pick up the pieces when its over"_
Remembered words, from a short time ago. He had still been fighting himself. Fighting his need to be close to her, while giving her what she needed. The comfort of not being alone, but her own space.Suddenly, as if in a great storm, everything had changed so fast. He had no need to fight himself any longer, they had gotten closer then he had dared dream, briefly. He had never lied to himself, he understood his feelings as well as hers, confusing though they were.
Looking out at the slow rolling water, he could only marvel at the speed events can gain in an instant. She had been bent on self destruction and revenge, Brendel had hoped she would see her way through to a better life. They had both known that there was no future in 'them'. Neither thought the end would be Him. Jay, back.
_The Southgate, the taught muscles of restraint and emotion having finally relaxed, then Kitty and Belia.
Kitty looking at him with concern?
"Badger. I've got news for you, maybe you should sit down"
His heart dropping like a stone…Jaelle, did you act without me?
"Is she alri.." only to be interrupted by Kitty " Jay's back, hes been seen by many people, here and in the Woods"
Only too late he realized just how open he had been; broken yes, pieces yes...but so very many, so very many.
"Does Jaelle know?"
The rest of the conversation faded away. Walls, he needed time, peace from the storm of emotion.
Jaelle did know, she would be alright now, and that is all Brendel had dared hope for.
The rest came too easily, slipping back to Old ways. When hurt, get free, run. Selling everything but the clothes on his back and his sword, keeping just enough to survive. Ships passage, anywhere but here.
A quick run back to Norwick. Couldn't leave without telling the Colonel.
Jaelle, waiting. It was a sad meeting, a goodbye, but not hurtful. Some pieces already picked up it seemed.
"Jaelle, a smile dancing across his lips will you be alright?" Asking the question he had never asked her, having known the answer till now.
"I don't know" and really, could there be another answer?
Brendel, watching her leave, touched by how much she did care, sorry already for the wall he had hidden behind as they talked.
Waiting for the Boat...another woman.
Alestra.
She loved him, it was obvious even without her saying it. How is it so easy to hurt people? So much hardship for her already, past and future, regret that he may be making it harder.
He was no bard, had no way with words, even his wit failing him at last.
Allowing himself a silent promise, IF he came back, he would help her find peace too.
Finally, the Docks in Peltarch, checking his much reduced pack one last time...a gift?
A small symbol, on it, Two white hands, bound with a red cord. He had been trying so hard to hide when they talked, he hadn't even noticed Jaelle slip it into his pack. A slow tear ran down his face as he walked up the Gangway._
-
In the middle of the night, a slight form slinks down into the main room in the grapevine. He sticks to the shadows, though his eyes blaze with such intensity, he wonders if there is anyone who couldn't follow the glow.
Glancing around the darkened empty inn, he glides to the corner by the large fire. Clothing loose, and hair unbraided he slumps to the floor; only to start shuddering a few broken moments later. It almost would look as if he were in the throws of sorrow, if not for the way his clenched fists contact the floor, or the wild light in his eyes as he gazes to the stairs jaws clenched tight.
Silence still throughout the inn, the audible sound of his teeth doing a slight grind, as slowly, he brings his breathing down, going from short fast gulps, to deep lung-filling breaths. The light in his eyes fading slowly, to be replaced by a deep sadness, eventually, that fades, leaving a guarded weary cast to them.
Eventually, he stops shuddering, and just sits still breathing. Soon, a slight humming comes from him, a simple tune, but it spills out of him with emotion. Encompassing such great longing and desire; a counterpart to the mask he turns his face into.
Once composed, he stands slowly, and ever so carefully makes his way back upstairs, seemingly restraining himself into slow simple movements.
_Carefully he slides onto the bed, once more wrapping his arms around her, watching as she twitches and cries in her sleep. The light builds in his eyes, as he slowly loses the ability to hold back all the emotion, the raw need to be here with her, the doubt, if what he is doing is truly the best way to see her through this mess. The longing to stroke the hair back from her face and kiss her gently, protecting her from everything, but most of all from her self.
In a matter of short time, he will slide from the bed, and head down stairs once more, eyes wild, and Raw emotions tearing through every fibre of his being._
-
Default - 'Count on Me'
_I know that life ain't always good to you.
I've seen exactly what it’s put you through
Thrown you around and turned you upside down and so you
You got to thinking there was no way out
You started sinking and it pulled you down
It may be tough you've to get back up
Because you know that life ain't over yet
I'm here for you so don't forget
You can count on me
Cause’ I will carry you till you
Carry onAnytime you need someone
Somebody strong to lean on
Well you can count on me
To hold you till the healing is done
And every time you fall apart
Well you can hide here in my arms
And you can count on me
To hold you till that feeling is goneI wonder why nobody's waiting on you
I'd like to be the one to pull you through your darkest times
I'd love to be the light that finds you
I see a silver lining on your cloud
I'll pick you up whenever you fall down
Just take my hand and I will help you standBecause you know that life ain't over yet
I'm here for you so don't forget
You can count on me
Cause’ I will carry you till you carry on
Anytime you need someone
Somebody strong to lean on
Well you can count on me to hold you till the healing is done
And every time you fall apart you can hide here in my arms
And you can count on me to hold you till that feeling is
Gone so you can live today
Seems so long to yesterday
Keep on counting on me to carry you till you carry on
Carry onYou know that life ain’t over yet
I’m here for you so don’t forget
You can count on me cause I will carry you till you carry onAnytime you need someone
Somebody strong to lean on
Well you can count on me to hold you till that healing is done
And every time you fall apart
You can hide here in my arms
And you can count on me to hold you till that feeling is gone
Remember life ain’t over yet
I’m here for you so don’t forget
That you can count on me to hold you till that feeling is gone
Remember life ain’t over yet
I’m here for you so don’t forget
That you can count on me to hold you till that feeling is gone_
-
Whispered to the wind
_Its been a bad few days. Seems the more I try to be better then I am, the stronger the need to just let it all go gets.
Ever since being 'cured' of the Well, I am sensitive. Sensitive to people..their emotions? their souls? I don't know. But I think lately, I may be close to drowning in their pain. So many of those I see regularly, are hurting.
I feel like some invisible collector. Every time I pass someone by, I see a little bit of them…and it leaves its mark. Sometimes I want to help them, sometimes I want to end them all.
All I know, is that lately, I want to give pain. I want to stand over something, knowing I hold its life in my grasp, and take it. But when I have this need...It can't be clean. There has to be...pain? screaming? something for all my senses.
I'm pent up, near to bursting. I NEED release. I'm just not sure how. A druid was licking my face a few nights ago. She was beautiful enough..such closeness...it was very much all I could do not to just Take what I need. I'm not sure why I didn't.
Jaelle is...confusing. Shes hurting, very much hurting. I want to help, need to help her. But I dont have the words. I am a watcher, I listen, hide behind wit. She makes me angry, sends me where I just have simple choices. Rage, Lust, Hatred, Sadness.
The last time I saw her...by the end of the night I was ready to kill her, the easy route. She came back from god's know where. After a few words, she did the only think really, that could have knocked me from the Bloodlust. She hugged me; I have no idea why...but it took me to a place far removed from rage, still very much an animalistic urging though.
She thinks that maybe, when she did whatever she did to cure me of my badger form, I got a piece of her Soul. Says it would explain the moodiness and Bloodlust. I don't know. I've always been moody...and not so noble when it came to killing. But I had far more restraint.
I'm not even going to bother wondering. I know this: I don't need her, but I want her.
She's planning something, I'm sure its bad. I'm going to be there and see it through, though I have no idea what I'll do, or how it will end._
-
_I can remember a time when I had no doubts. Not so very long ago it seems.
They say I am cured now. Of the Well, of Izakiel? But since they were the ones established i was not 'myself' in the first place…how am I too know?? I am too...cautious of summoning the power of the Well to try. That would settle the issue, but what would I do if I still can? What would it mean?
I am fighting my hope. Perhaps, now, I will get to spend some real time with Mia. But then, just because I drank a potion, doesn't mean Izakiel is done with me. Fark.
All this time, Since picking up the taint, I have been deepening my relationships with those I knew, or have met. Save one or two...
I feel at home once again. In Norwick. I find myself reaching out, trying to become even closer with some I meet. Perhaps too much time wondering what horrible thing is waiting to happen to me, has a benefit.
This pirate, Jaelle. I am still confused, but willing to not worry about it. Watching her suffer...but have such spirit at times...brings up something. makes me feel...like a predator, wolfish.
So many new faces, sometimes I feel like a babysitter. Watching over a herd of Cats.
I have found a bit more balance. I work to help those that need it. But I work for myself too. Kicking the Household Soldiers mentality of 'my lord first, me second' I need to keep myself happy in my duties.
I met a druid. I spoke to her of the Wolf. She said it is the way of her people, to bond with an animal by hunting down a deer. With a dagger, and sharing it with the beast.
That seemed to make sense. So One night, as the Wolf once again lay watching me, I went on a hunt. I slew a deer. Only, where I come from, the Alpha eats first. So I did, then I called the Wolf over. Maybe that druid knew what she was talking about.
I watch this Wolf. My shadow. It is old and very scarred. Its ears twitch at every night sound, even when it stares at me, it glances about itself. I look at myself and see the same.
Perhaps that is how you live to be more then a pup._
-
_Brendel sat in a small camp of his making. huddled inside a hollow tree, with a small fire, and his bow leaning on the 'wall'.
He had spent the day, the ENTIRE day, trying to calm himself, and get over his bitter disappointment. As he sat, focusing on the morrow, a feeling, made him look out of his hollow. Two golden eyes, reflecting the fire light. The wolf sat far enough away that only its eyes could be seen. Brendel knew it, knew of it he supposed. It appeared sometimes; at his camps, or as he stalked the rawlins. It seemed shy, or reluctant. Having gotten nowhere talking of it with his druid friend Theo, he had given up on the subject. Till a recent conversation with Jerrick came to mind._
"Speak to it" _He had said.
Bloody Hells. Feeling a bit silly, Brendel cleared his throat._
"Why are you always watching me brother wolf?" Thinking quickly that asking a wolf a question, to start a conversation was probably not the best route to take…
"Well, where to begin. clucks his tongue slightly settling back At the start of the month. We were visited by Izakiel. I think he was unhappy I wasn't a badger anymore. watches the wolf eyes knowing that the beast was switching to a more comfortable position too
I'm sure he can have plenty to complain about, Badgers make great spies. According to him, the real 'fun' starts at the end of this month though. Whatever he has in mind, I think may not sit so well with me.
Back before I was incarcerated, I was spending a lot of time with Mia. smiles slightly feeding the flames a bit My sudden disappearance bothered her, she missed me! …honestly glancing at the Wolf I missed her too. grins I would hate to have whatever Izakiel has in mind to seperate us again. sighs
Of course, the reason for my foul mood earlier...I bet you noticed didn't you? looks back to flames I was given the chance to take my first test as a Wolf. face darkens slightly I failed. It took me some time to work it out. I was looking at it too much as a chance to show off....and not as if it was a mission. nods to himself If I had approached it the same way I would approach an assignment, or even a patrol; I'm sure things would have been much different. sighs again fidgeting slightly Of course, Jerrick said he failed the first time. Said a wee Goblin spotted him. That didn't really make me feel any better. He says I will get the chance again. Maybe soon.
On the more positive side...he showed me how to tap into "nature magic" or another gift. I was obviously...skeptical. I'm not sure I want any more 'gifts' of power. glances to Wolf But it felt right. natural? chuckles not like using the Well. shudders slightly Now I just need practice. Lots of practice.
I gave a part of my Soul away not long ago. eyes look off past the hollows around him
A woman fell. One I would not shed any tears for, hearing she died. However, she died in the Keep of the Fallen. A spirit laid claim to her Soul. ...with my...experiences; and the Touch of the Well absently touches the side of his head I couldn't bear the thought of anyone being trapped in that place, when the ability to free them was at hand.
So I did it. It...messed me up. I almost lost myself in that badger form. It wasn't until I returned to this form that I got myself back. That's another thing looks at the wolf I can't understand....that woman, Jaelle, told a story. About making a deal for ME! She doesn't know me! Why would someone do that? shakes head I need to think on that some more.
In a roundabout way, Jerrick and I spoke of you...trails off as he notices the wolf is gone
Brendel settles more comfortably. Spending the next few days in meditation, and quiet use of his senses. Trying to improve himself.
-
Brendel paced feverishly back and forth. The cell seemed made for pacing, as it was longer then it was wide. Absently he wondered how long it would take to wear a telling groove into the rock. He stopped for a moment when he realized that as an Elf, he could live long enough to do it.
Taking another swig of wine, he resumed pacing. He had not eaten in awhile now, and was sure he wouldn't anytime soon. Food of course was available, everyone saw to it. Even the Grey Goshawk perched just outside his cage was seemingly leaving morsels for him.
Brendel had been locked up too long. A massive pain in his head was building. He had access to distractions of course; artists tools, an occasional swim. But all in this cave, and all over so very quickly. Even the regular visitors couldn't change things. He was locked up. With himself.
The problem was, Brendel didn't really like himself too much. At least outside, distractions could be found anytime. Any little thing to focus on, to leave his thoughts behind. Not here though. A few times in the last weeks, he had escaped himself by slipping into madness. He found it very freeing.
The last time though, he had come to himself moments away from summoning the strength needed to break through his cell doors and run free. That was too sobering a possibility. He had stopped eating then, willing himself to weakness. Hunger turned his thoughts to his stomach and pains for awhile. But no longer.
Step, step, step…one foot in front of the other. Thoughts on nothing, eyes to the floor...thoughts of nothing....a pair of feet standing in his path...too much nothing...his own feet blocking his path
Looking up, the pain in his head making him queasy. Staring into his own eyes, though the opposite pair containing dark laughter. Glancing away, seeing the cage door. He could still do it. Could still break out of here…escape himself.
There is a reason to this though. A purpose. I must stay here. not for my safety, for theirs…Glancing once more to himself, hating the cocky grin, pain throbbed from his skull
There is always an out, always another option! Lessons learned, he glanced over his shoulder a solid black rectangle,a door, a way out.
Madness, the perfect escape, the only other option. Shooting his opposite the cocky grin right back, he steeped into the doorway. The pain broke over him like a wave, washing through his body, dragging with it every kind of emotion imaginable, scents, thoughts, memories, feelings, taste. Then it stopped cold.
What?….NO!
He was standing in a wasteland. Thigh deep ash, slate gray sky. This was it then. It seemed even madness was only ever a temporary reprieve. This was what he avoided, ran from, sought out any distraction.
Below the surface of the ash as he moved, he could feel memories buried. He had put them there. Men he had killed, moments, things that had brought joy. He had buried them all. Lest lingering on any one moment summoned the others.
Angrily his right fist clenched and unclenched.
There is too much pain! No balance can be had here! So much blood shed… He could feel it slosh under foot, under the memories and ash. An ugly, slick feeling. His very Soul rebelled against it.
Sickened he stopped moving, unable to pursue this any farther. Even here, he could be defiant. Trying to will everything away.
Is this it? Is this how people just fade into death? Unwilling to carry the weight of their deeds any longer, they just…let go?
Something bumped his leg. Looking down, as he fades, he sees a memory.
_A proud Elf, standing on a bearskin rug. A massive stone desk in front of him, with a hulking beast of a man behind it. Devlin. Brendel holding his head high, swearing out his Oath to Serve. An oath that binds him still, even after leaving his redcloak in that office years ago.
Another time, another oath, standing in a green depression. A circle of stones below, a circle of trees above. One tree, ethereal almost. Another beast of a man, but a different sort, Jerrick. This oath, just putting voice to a path he had already chosen to follow. But he gained a family as well, a different sort of responsibility._
Looking up, he sees his opposite once more. Dressed in simple clothing, the clothing of a woodsman. Standing, patient. Manacles of silver and gold bind him, the key around his neck. Oaths. Willingly taken, and faithfully served.
Brendel looks down on himself, his dark leathers covered in ash, hands stained in blood. He could feel sickness, this was his choice. To exist in this wasteland. Residing in this nothing, no guilt, no joy, just existence.
What choice is this? giving up everything, for nothing?
It was so easy though, not freedom really, but no burden either. It was costing him. So easy in this state to turn away from promises, people, oaths. Somewhere, somehow, he knew how wrong this nothing was. Deeply ingrained somewhere, buried deep, was his whole self.
He had died, but had come back…his true self answering the summons, to come back to this, from beyond.
But not for this! For life! For Duty!
Pain surged through him once more, the waves of it crashing into him. this was it then. One last choice, to go on, or too let it all go.
He lay curled on the stone floor, clutching his head crying out in pain. Slowly he forced himself to move, fighting the tides of pain, he pushed through the Ash, desperation flinging his arms around his opposite. He could feel the lifeforce of the woodsman. Almost hear his heartbeat, his own heartbeat.
Pushing himself to the mat on the cell floor, Brendel curls up on it. tears flowing unchecked down his face. So much pain, darkness. but he could balance it. He had all the time in the world.
