Because actually explaining anything would be too convenient. As would be sending someone who could actually see with her. On the other hand, it was a chance to get out and do something interesting. Perhaps too interesting? She paced around, thinking. Things had been awfully tense for a while, and one hardly needed empathy to notice, though it was hardly surprising. She used her memory of the hall to find a chair and sat and pondered.

Athenos... She'd heard of him before. Some kind of guard, though not one employed by the castle? She wondered how he factored into this. The captain had seemed to at least suspect some kind of involvement between him and the princess, and the other woman had specifically mentioned him. Finding him might be a prudent first step. The question at that point became how. Then again, the guard had also mentioned Rozen, and that the princess had been with him last... The people in the dungeon, though, might be able to help her find Athenos, and there was no such lead for Rozen. The captain, she was sure, did want the princess back just as much as the other woman, though for different reasons, and his information could be trusted here.

Pandora left the hall, and, after a bit of searching, located a guard. She explained that she needed to find two comrades of Athenos in the dungeon, and that it was rather important. "See, I'm on a mission for the Captain of the Guard. Your boss. So I don't think he'd mind you taking me there," she concluded.

Haven't been following this at all, but what's making this Kame RP topic successful compared to every other one?

Will's was very popular too, but he just stopped leading the story at some point. Other than those I don't think any host has put as much effort into it.

DM Note-Funny how good I can write when I'm not being trolled by mods and members, huh? But please keep the side conversation out of this thread so that it doesn't get derailed. I encourage you to make a fan thread to discuss the thrilling adventures of the characters, though. 8D Though I don't think Athenos needs any ego boosting.




Fridolf grinned toothily at Dan. "What're you worried about, pup? Leave the details to me. Like I said, we'll leave under cover of night and retrace our steps...I don't think they're crazy enough to use smell hounds on us. Not yet." They continued walking quickly. Dan felt his side begin to sear with the pace of movement, but they did not stop until they reached Irongoll. It was much smaller than Astron, and there were no sense of nobility around them save for a large manor at the top of a hill. The manor looked as if it were wrought out of a single piece of iron. "Irongoll, in case you couldn't tell, was so named for the strangely defended manner before you," Fridolf said a little loudly, "they purify iron here, cast it into sheets and send it off to metalworkers of the surrounding area." They paraded into town, Fridolf doing his best to remain conspicuous but not obviously so, looking at wears and iron clad trinkets from stalls that lined the streets. He antagonized over a specific one - a small heart shaped stone, well polished and with a filigree design crawling across it in highly polished metal. He bartered, and then put it back. By now the sun was setting, and no one even stopped to stare at the newcomers anymore. "There, our presence is known. Go get us a room," Fridolf says, taking a look around the inn they had walked into. He grabbed Dan's arm suddenly, "one room, two nights. Got that?" He growled. Dan nodded and complied, spending 6 gold on the room and going up to it. He vaguely noticed Fridolf already well on his way to being drunk with a couple of local citizens. Alone in the room, Martin slumped onto the bed, Dan onto the table.

"Dan, we need to talk..." Martin said slowly. "I don't mind going on this...this trip of yours. But we gotta head south. I just know...he's out that way. And I need to find him. He needs me," Martin added quickly. He sighed at Dan's inquisitive look. "He's my grandfather, you see. Very sick, very senile. He'd like you though, he is also a student of the sciences. Please, we need to find him quickly! We need Fridolf to help us navigate the way, but you will need to convince him of the urgency behind finding my grandfather." There was desperation in Martin's voice.



"They didn't have to die!" The princess screamed, a tear streaming down her face. "You felt it too, I know you did. I saw you hesitate. There was still good in them!" Another tear rolled down her cheek. She paced wildly for a few minutes. Finally, her heart slowed, and other than the two tears Athenos had seen fall, there was no mark of her agony. She leaned down and felt the pulse of both riders. The one hit by the demon hand was dead, his skull crumpled. She felt the other..."this one is still alive..." she murmured, look off towards the creek. The horses were drinking solemnly, as if they did not even notice the fight behind them. She picked up the alive but unconscious guard and propped him up against a rock. His head slung back. She felt his arms and head, "no breaking down here...trauma in this region," she murmured, not expecting Athenos to pay attention, "possible internal bleeding." She withdrew her hands suddenly and ripped at the hem of her cloak. "Go fetch us some water from the creek. You have a canteen, don't you?" Athenos complied, begrudgingly, as the princess watched him walk off. His back turned, he heard a dull crack and could have sworn he saw a flash a light. Bolting back into the direction of the princess though, he saw nothing. Once he returned he realized some of the color had come back to the guard's face. The princess set to cleaning his scars. "There are two horses. I will take one with this guard. We will travel to Pryti. It is up to you whether you come with us. If you do," she said, her deep eyes searching him, "we will join you to visit the monks as well," she rung out the torn cloak over the side of the stone the guard was standing against, and poured more water on it. "We should bury the body." She said sadly, looking at the other figure, still crumpled before them. A silence filled the void for several minutes, the sun now setting. "They will realize the guards are gone soon. We shouldn't waste any more time."



Pandora was escorted into an interrogation room by one of the dungeon guards. Although she could not see the room, she could tell that it was dusty and damp, as if not regularly used or cleaned. She heard cursing coming from a door in front of her, a figure thrown in, and then the door locked again before the man could let out another curse. Pandora was amused. "Am I speaking to Edwin, or Devlin?"

"The latter." He said. She heard him struggle against chains to stand upright. She waited patiently for a couple of seconds, feeling his mind. He was irate, and rightly so. She already felt interrogating him or Edwin would be a lost cause. But she might put up a good show doing it.

"When was the last time you saw the princess?" Pandora asked. No answer. "What do you know of the princess?" Again, no answer. She listed off questions she felt she should be asking, but got little to no verbal response, with an occasional rude snort. While she asked the questions, her mind focused on his. He was closed down due to torture. It would be hard to break him down to a point where he would be able to think. Pandora reached into her pocket and grabbed a stone, focusing hard. Her inner eye flared open. Devlin hadn't seen anything. He had seen them at breakfast, following the fire. They were all there, even the elusive Rozen, she saw. They all departed after varying degrees of conversation. But that was it. In effect, no one saw Athenos leave the castle. "Thank you for your time, Devlin." He didn't respond, but she didn't expect one. She got up to leave, hand grappling for her staff. As she pulled her hand out of her pocket, it brushed against the bag of Runestones. They were vibrating. She reached in and felt the one designated as 'light' by the servant still warm to the touch.

Athenos stared at the flowing water, lost in thought. He could not vindicate himself for killing the man, even though it was in self defense. He must refrain from using his arm more, not until he learned to control it better. It was increasingly imperative that he visit the monks to the east.

"You may visit the oracle, princess," he finally decided, "but fate has other plans for me."

The truth was that he could not visit Psamathe. She was in divine favor of the gods and under their protection against... Otherworldly power. He did not need a confrontation with the gods now. Not like this. The day would come, however, when his power would grow to draw their attention. He wrapped his arm once more, vowing not to remove it until the right time.

"I do not have time for deliberation. Come if you wish," he gathered his things and mounted one of the horses.

Aleiya looked at him, biting her lip in concentration. "I see you have no respect for the dead," she snaps. Before Athenos can argue about the lack of shovel, she continues, "go on ahead. I will catch up with you shortly. Allow me a moment with the fallen man, and to let me get this other guard up on his horse." The princess waited until Athenos mounted his horse before she removed the fallen guard's helmet. He thought she heard her sigh in relief, followed by another crack, a more obvious flash of light, and a steady sound of hoof beats behind him. He didn't turned, simply assumed that she had caught up to him.

He was going to allow her her moment of grief when she suddenly appeared beside him, her horse struggling slightly on the unsure footing. The path was clearly not meant for two. "We must hurry," she said quietly, that same wild intensity blazing in her eyes. "The monsters were attracted by the blood of the spilled men," she looked at her charge, lulling awkwardly in her saddle in front of her. "I do not know how far ahead of them we are, but they are following the scent and quickly." She sends her horse into a gallop.

Athenos could feel the foreboding presence. The beasts' dark energy emanated in small flashes, and he could hear their howls. Their horses were not swift enough; they were already at their limit. Running at full pace was not enough to escape these creatures. And it was not the scent of blood. His demonic energy could not be fully restrained, and leaked out like heat from a furnace. It left a scent to any creature who could sense the supernatural. And these beasts were far from natural.

They came into a clearing. Athenos jumped off his horse. The princess looked at him with a wild expression. He turned away from her, facing the approaching threat. His heart was pounding fiercely, exciting him for what was to come. He threw off his cloak and unraveled his bandage.

He could feel the demon inside him urging him to fight. It was time to let loose, it whispered to him. He felt the dark energy pour into him; his eyes sparking with crimson.

"We are through running," he said, his voice crackling with power. The beasts were nearing, he could see them. Twisted and misshapen, these were woodland creatures, altered with a forbidden magic. And the first, a bear of immense size.

He met the bear head-on, stopping it cold. His lone left fist slamming into the beast's frame with startling results. It plunged clear through its chest in a terrific display of strength. The beast roared as it stumbled over and fell backwards, blood spurting from its fatal wound. Athenos plunged his hand into the bear's chest, ripping its heart out, still beating.

It was pleasurable. It was fun. Laughing maniacally, he squeezed the heart, crushing it with an impossible grip. It exploded, drenching Athenos in red blood. But he was not finished.

The next creature was nearly upon him. He no longer cared what it was. He grabbed its neck as it bound on top of him, cutting into his human flesh. The pain only heightened his pleasure. He crushed the beast's neck before tearing off the beast's head, tossing it away like a worn plaything. He pushed the dead body off of him. He could feel the third, coming from his right.

He looked into the beast's eyes, invading its mind. It halted, starting to squirm. It howled and shrieked as Athenos gave it pain -- a pain it would have never could have experienced before. He began laughing, watching the wretched creature writhe in pain, now whimpering. More. There must be more. He amplified the beast's anguish as he could feel it desperately trying to fight back.

"Athenos!"

His concentration broke. He saw the beast lying ahead of him, dead; it's mind destroyed in unimaginable suffering. It was the last thing he saw before his vision faded to black. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

Oceans of flame danced within the gaze of open, arched segments in a circular stone room, granting their eternal warmth to the throne inside. The throne was comprised of obsidian, cradled in circling steps. No portraits devorated this sanctuary, no candles or grace of elegance. The chamber was all but empty, save he who sat upon the pedestal. A great, scaled silhouette, cast in blazing crimson, whose shadows danced with the roaring chorus of his charge. His sword hand held in its clawed grasp an orb of dancing embers, eyes intent with anticipation. The orb swirled and churned with a tempest of activity, but none so invigorating as to upset his beholder. The demon let out a low, growly sigh, and placed the orb on the arm of his throne.

"What a burden it must be, to oversee the fruits of thy ancient victory," a whispy voice spoke aloud. The demon's finger stopped mid-tap. His eyes shot up, but met no gaze. His head slowly turned side to side, just enough to grant his weary eyes glimpses of the chamber.

"Khalkatha...," The voice continued.

"Esofar," the demon muttered. "You seek audience with the father flame? You are bold to make unappointed meeting with the caretaker and then demand of him his father."

"It is not meeting I seek, flameborn jester," the voice whisped. Esofar's head rose slightly as he considered the words.

Black smoke plumed into life before the throne, giving life to an aggressive violet figure. It lunged at him with a clawed hand, guiding the shadows to his face. Esofar's left hand sprung upwards, catching the talons in his palm. He allowed them to dig into his scales and taste his skin as the shadows took shape into a creature a foot smaller than him. Riddled in thorns, skin pulsing with violet light, the aggressor's amethyst eyes caught his own.

"A shadow demon?!" Esofar blurted. The attacker pushed forward, striking at him with its free claw. He caught the attack with his opposing hand. Esofar's lips curled in amusement.

"You must be very powerful... or very old. I would wager the latter," Esofar muttered. His muscles flexed, flashing with an inner flame, and cast the shadowy attacker backwards, to the foot of the throne's steppes. For a moment their eyes remained locked. Long enough for Esofar to regain his composure. He folded his arms in disappointment.

"What? You're going to undo our binding magic from here? Are you so eager to abandon your existence? Perhaps you've grown tired of hiding in the shadows after all." Esofar offered with a chuckle. The shadow demon's eyes pulsed, but it remained silent. "The flame wheel whispers your name, Isador... but surely not the name your blood is bound by, no? Perhaps you have no name. Not after exhausting your kin's courage by hiding amongst the herd. So, you wish to challenge the father flame? And yet you make this blunder? I would say I am surprised... but I am not."

Esofar reached for his side, grasping a large, elegant sword hilt furnished in shining gold. He rose the hilt, that which bore no blade, and pointed it towards his attacker.

"You are mindless rabble. You would devour the mortal realms without hesitation, and starve yourselves out in but a breath. You have no control. No discipline. Such a display so provident before me this hour."

The shadow demon backstepped, as if slipping into a window of darkness. Opposing windows appeared around the caretaker, but he did not move. Violet light spewed from their depths, forming into bladed chains that struck out at him. Just before they would bind him, Esofar's sword exploded to life, casting a liquid flame blade. He spun around, catching the chains, and shattered them to dust with his hellish whirlwind. The Shadow demon came down from above, having jumped from behind him, and reached out with its hands. A shaft formed from the shadows, taking shape in the image of a pulsing violet spear. Esofar caught the weapon with his sword, forcing him back a step as he resisted Isador's rush.

"Excellion, Spire of the Night. I have seen this weapon before," Esofar muttered absently, allowing the pike's edge a taste of his breath. It drew from his energy with its very presence. "But not in the hands of a fool."

Esofar gave strength to his parry, pushing Isador back. Blazing embers washed across the red giant's body in harmony, moving with every flex of his muscle. He was completely attuned to his sanctuary.

"You hear it, don't you? The thump of the shadow world's heart, ever soft beneath the ocean of stars." Esofar offered his aggressor a grin beneath their blades. "A pity your world still sleeps, no? How does it feel? How does it feel to be so close to your freedom yet so far?"

Esofar's body once more flashed as his mind whipped strength into his muscles, pushing his advance, and hurling his opponent across the chamber. Isador wretched his pike aside and rolled away, allowing Esofar to slam into the wall. The fire demon's body blurred with motion as he swung his sword in a wide arc. Isador's pike parried this attack, throwing him to the ground with the impact. Again Esofar lunged, but Isador lept backwards, avoiding the thrust.

"Perhaps I underestimated your cunning. Surely, you have some talent to have made it so deep into my citadel... a pity you are unworthy for these sacred halls," Esofar ranted. "Your illusions and schemes are futile here. Your world is lost, fallen. You know this!" His eyes burned brilliantly, overcoming the light of the distant flames. Isador could feel the light burning into his flesh. The gaze of the stars made manifest bit into him, forcing him back. He had not anticipated such strength. Indeed, the fire demons had grown much stronger over the years. He felt a distinct regret. Esofar surged forward in this moment of vulnerability, thrusting his sword. Isador felt the strength of Kalkatha's caretaker. He whose eyes burned with the ferocity of the stars. He could not react fast enough.

The flame's edge tore through Isador's shield of shadows at the behest of its immortal master, then through his flesh. A burning edge that sent spikes of pain through his body and mind. Isador cried out a savage shriek, raising his lance and striking into Esofar's chest. But his strength was not enough to pierce the scales of the caretaker. Esofar spun him around, forcing him into the wall with the force of his blade. Isador's shadowy skin welcomed the embrace of its hit, and for a moment he felt the blazing life beneath the skin of the demon warrior. Just enough.

"You should have stuck to the shadows, arrogant fool," Esofar muttered. "How frustrating it must be to fail at the gate to your salvation with such a flamboyant gamble. But you shall not die. Not yet. Oh no. We're going to have some fun, yes?"

Isador's eyes pulsed vibrantly. Esofar hesitated at the show of defiance.

"The drowned night... shall consume your ocean of stars...," Isador's strained voice whispered in his head. His pike dissipated into a flutter of ashes, the demon's strength draining by the moment. Still he clung to that tiny taste on the tip of his tongue. "This I promise." He bit into the drop of life he had taken from the caretaker. Isador's shadows returned to him, and in a vibrant flash, he vanished - taking the blazing sword with him.

Esofar stepped back, laughing once he realized what had happened. "Run, shadow, run! Where the stars gaze you shall forever know fear!" his voice rippled throughout the shadow realm after Isador.

A lost world of faces and images, a dimensional rift between worlds. A labyrinth in eternal slumber. Isador stumbled forward, grasping the blazing hilt with his hands. He pulled with all the strength left in his arms, tearing the searing edge away from his smokey flesh. With this motion his concentration shattered, hurling him through an infinite tunnel of darkness. He fell backwards, landing in wet grass. The weapon's edge still burned in his grip as its glow dulled to an orange-hot, but the wound in his chest burned hotter yet.

"Freedom... shall be ours again...," Isador muttered to himself.

...

It had been so long ago, but the mention of another demon by the mortals around him made his phantom wound ache. He tried his best to maintain to the work at hand. As long as he remained on his side of the table, and they on theirs, they didn't panic or do the other foolish things mortals do. They were sitting there, counting the riches of the bandit 'king' as he were, all eager for their cut. It was tedious work, and the dark night made it no easier. Isador couldn't help but eavesdrop...

"A man left Astron, just last night. Source said something was wrong with his arm, wasn't the right color," the man shot a scared warning look at Isador, obviously discolored in nature. Isador made no indication having heard him. Feeling secure to speak again, the man continued... "Super human strength, too, he broke apart a door with his fists..."

"That ain't so strong, my uncle can do that. Seen it five times." A couple of other men chuckled at the younger one's comment.

"Say what you well but that isn't right. He isn't right. You know it all revolves around the princess being kidnapped."

"Oh here we go again," another man said, exasperated, "how would you even know the princess was kidnapped, you git? You've been holed up here all day," the others laughed with glee. Isador, having finished counting the money before him, got up to leave the table. "Hey where are you going?" one of them asked defensively. He cringed when Isador turned to face him, to Isador's glee.

"To bed," he said with a frightening grin. He turned back around and walked unmolested to his bed roll, far from the others and farthest from the fire. Their talk confirmed what he knew was already true - someone of this realm had found a way to harness the power of a demon. Isador had felt the presence of another demon just last night, but he was far away, and weak. But in the past hour he had felt something stronger. The man (if that were possible, it must be another being, he thought to himself) was using the demon's strength, and the demon enjoyed it, before the connection was suddenly cut from him. He wasn't sure which thought made him sicker...a demon enjoying being toyed with, or the demon existing the first place.

But other than find him to know for sure, there was not much he could do. He was still in a weakened state, although these mortals didn't realize it, and if it were a fire demon, if it sensed his presence immediately...even incased in a mortal shell who knows how he would fare?

He heard the men at the table cackle wildly again. Then again, life wasn't great among these miserable thugs and dullards. A change of atmosphere might do him well. The night was young, he still had an entire night before daybreak. He could track this man, see it for himself. No one would stop him, no one would demand he stay. What have they got to gain by confronting a demon?

The shadow realm. Stepping between worlds was not as easy as it once was. And every time he did so, Isador felt a deep sorrow. Though he strode amongst the dreams of his kin, they had slept since scarcely after his very birth. Sorrow would always quickly turn to anger. So close had he been... Isador brushed the golden hilt at his side, and felt the soft echoes of a distant wind. Words spoke to him, uttering garbled, unintelligible banter. The chuckles of his men now distant, and the words closer. He strode a land frozen in time, blue dirt whose surface cracked beneath his claws. His mind's eyes searched the threads of motion around him, seeking the disturbance he had felt.

Isador's thoughts came upon a man, but he was no man indeed, Isador concluded. But the demon he had bound was that of the fire realm. The words he heard, though distant in the reaches of its flesh, were almost familiar. Isador's curiosity grew. He decided that now would be the time he would act, and seek the answers himself. For so as men enjoyed the spoils of the hunt and the heist, Isador further enjoyed the dance of minds.

Isador reached into the thoughts of his prey. A demon, lesser than the bloodsworn ilk of the citadel and the ocean of stars, but no less related. Somehow, a connection... but the man, the man's presence was more intriguing. His bondage with the demon had overcome him, if only temporarily. This made it easy to drag his presence into the shadow realm. His demon kin would no sooner enjoy the night than his fathers, Isador mused. For here they were alone, and here their displeasure could only be amplified.

Athenos would not awaken to the faces of men or kingdoms of old, he would awaken to the phantom abyss of his own thoughts. Echoes, mirrors, provocations and considerations made manifest. A world bound by reflections and, indeed, the thirst for blood offered by his demon bondage.

"The night's song betrays your veil, starfallen. Athenos... Does the hunger burn thy thoughts, starfallen? Do you not feel its yearning? Do you not desire its strength...? Or, perhaps, you yearn for more...?"

Isador allowed the mind to absorb his thoughts.

"Bound by blood the fire demon stirs, forever hungering, forever thirsty... but it withholds from you what you truly desire, yes? So eager you are to throw away your heritage..."

-Since Fridolf is drunk try to find out his secrets than convince him to come show the path to martins grandfathers house if all else fails offer him 5 coins to show him the path

Fridolf doesn't know where Martin's grandfather is...the only person he was meant to lead Athenos to was Pryti. "but, if that is not your intended path anymore, perhaps we had better split ways," Fridolf says. "But...you are being followed. I can show you a passage out of Irongoll tonight, or you can try to make it on your own. Your choice."

Follow Fridolf out of Irongoll

Fridolf grunted. He poured himself a glass of wine from a dusty bottle. "Alright, we'll be up in a moment," Fridolf said, nodding to a man sitting close by, leaning against the wall. Dan had not seen him before - he was shrouded in a cloak and barely moving as if barely alive. Dan made out a glint of yellow eyes, but that was it. Dan returned to Martin in their room and waited. Several hours passed, and a loud chorus of a song they remembered from the Three of Hearts rang up to their room. As the noise died down, Dan heard stumbling up the stairs, and two men laughing gleefully. The door swung open, "thanks fir th'help, Ruddy," Fridolf said, shining from drink. He struggled across the threshold, stumbling loudly

"Anytime, pal. Good to see you again," the one he called Ruddy looked in at the room, still shrouded, smiling a toothy grin. The door swung shut behind them. Fridolf sat straight up, as if nothing happened, took a drink of a crude black liquid from a flask, and splashed water on his face from a provided basin. Ruddy's drunken steps echoed out of the establishment, and Fridolf watched him through their small window disappear around the back of a house.

"You two ready?" Fridolf growled, any sign of intoxication now gone. He inspected the window and frowned. "A little slim for what we want. I should slip through first. Wait for my signal when I get down to the street." He slid through with great agility. Hopped down to the street and looked around. He gave the thumbs up, and Martin slipped through next, followed by Dan. He motioned to them to stay quiet and to follow him around the side of the town.

Outside the parameters of the town, they saw Ruddy waiting for them. "That went well," Fridolf said in a low growl.

"Too well, if you ask me," Ruddy responded. Fridolf shook his head and grunted a little. "You're still being followed, you know. Guards are on their way, they will hear you were here raising hell -"

"Perfect," Fridolf said with a growl, "We're heading the way of Castleedge, anyways."

"What about Lyall-"

"What of him? We'll be fine," Fridolf said, "These two are smart. We'll avoid him." He turned to Dan and Martin. "Now come, we want to be as far from Irongoll as possible before day break. Then we'll rest."

Your dream has fallen from your sky,
your star has all but lost it's shine,
you embrace the tempest and its rage,
while the heavens above stare and gaze.

'I am the void and darkness delighted,
impossible to fight the shadows with the lighted,
I am the reason evil should fear.'

You have forsaken all that is dear,
but it is not vengeance you desire,
nor retribution for your crime.

For what does your heart yearn, young prince of war?

'Serena.'

"Haksheesh asta," Isador's whispy crackled in an alien tongue. "In our hands dry the tears of lost dreams, starfallen. In dead worlds and those who yet breathe the song is yet sung," he continued, switching to the tongue of demons, rendered ever more poisonous through his accent. The demon within churned at the words of its homeland. Isador could feel life's thump driving away the chains of emotion. The demon's life. His thoughts searched forward, seeking their connection between the tempest of battle's echoing horns. Their union was young, as were they. Isador did not recognize this demon, but he felt a connection to those he had encountered in the citadel. A young sibiling... so far from home? Did it know? Did it know of its brother's charge?

"Firebound, iksa odas, night comes for thee. Within the shadows of the Gods, a nightmare astray. Beyond the eyes of men, beyond the ocean of flame... the words of demons and men motionless."

A crude prison appeared within Isador's vision, worn bars of distant fortitude. He focused on this cage, considered its purpose. The demon's lifeblood, that which fueled the sickening union, yet pulsed from this labyrinth. A world beyond worlds. A stream of consciousness without touch or taste or smell. A world eclipsed in the shadow of doubt. He placed his thoughts upon the bars, or rather, the elements that yet held them strong. He felt strength pulse through his thoughts and back into the shadow realm. The demon stirred, but remained ignorant of his presence. A trickle of emotion. He remained for a short time, relishing in the taste of the elements. For all the mortals he had devoured, none were scarcely as rich as even the lowliest of demons. Pure emotion. Life in its uttermost primal form. That which all Shadows yearned for...

"We shall meet soon, fireborn. Thy kin shall never hear of you again. And he, the charge of thy desire, cast down and marked unto the end of his fleeting days by his own blood. Annath idal..."

He withdrew his presence from this realm, lest the prisoner sense his presence.

The shadow realm immediately surrounding Isador and his prey bubbled and toiled with magneta fonts. The height of night empowered Isador's body, and its influence had grown with every passing day. Though his wounds burned even now, had he the chance to taste the life of a fireborn bloodsworn... he with noble blood...

The shadow realm echoed with his reverberating laugh, more a haunting chitter than an emotional response. Phantasmal chains churned beneath the eyes of violet madness around him, casting warped shadows across a forgotten world. Isador could strike, but he was not certain he could bring the demon into the shadow world completely - not enough to completely destroy his presence. Isador considered the prone man before him, warped by the powers he sought to command. Even withdrawn, the demon's words still flooded his realm.

Isador rose his right hand. Shadows collected into a shaft in its grip, forming into bladed spear. Its obsidian surface boiled with violet light, drawing all other light into it. It resonated with a deep hum, collecting the stray fragments of thought energy that encircled it. The chains ceased turning, and brightened.

"All demons shall know to fear the night."

Isador drew his weapon, ready to thrust it into the mortal form before him, weakened greatly by the power of the demon he sought to possess. But before the weapon had time to fully materialize, he knew he would fail. They heard a reverberating chord from a harp, and then...Isador was alone. Athenos was gone. It did not happen of his accord. Some divine force was protecting him.

Athenos awoke in the mortal realm, drenched in sweat. It was still dark, but probably near dawn - he heard birds chirping. A good sign to be sure; it meant that the area was undisturbed. He thought, trying to make sense of what had happened. The sound of the harp was the same from his voyage to the other realm. But who was the demon to meet him?

Near him he heard whispers between the princess and a male voice he could only assume was the guard. She didn't sound scared anymore...she sounded annoyed, even mildly bored with the conversation at hand. "...you don't understand the threat this man poses to your reput..." the male voice was saying.

"My reputation? I wasn't aware that my family still had one," she said. He started to protest..."stop protesting. The chance of my family regaining the crown...we know how likely that is."

There was a silence. "The King..."

"Was kidnapped. He did not run away," she snapped, "I know that is the rumor going about, and I can guarantee you that he would not do it," there was another silence.

"M'lady," he said with softness in his voice, "I only have your best intentions at heart...you do not look well out here. ... Your kingdom needs you. Please, come back." He was pleading now.

"I will not go back to Astron. Don't you see? The family has left - we have lost the crown city. You are right that I am not well...but the only that can help me is a woman named Pryti..."

"The witch doctor? M'lady, you are putting yourself in greater risk..." the male started. Athenos rolled over to and opened his eyes. The guard was on his knees before the princess, who was sitting about as regally as she could on a tree stump. He on the other hand had sustained major trauma to his shoulder, but it was not from Athenos' earlier attack. The monsters must have persisted after he fell unconscious.

"She is no witch doctor, I assure you, but I do not expect you to understand. You have been faithful in finding me, and I owe you my life. But I leave you two choices," she said to him, "you may accompany us on our journey, you can turn around and tell the Captain of the Guard that you saw nothing." There was finality in her voice. The guard turned, and realizing that Athenos' eyes were open, stood up at once.

"M'lady, I believe your charge is awake," he said coolly, "I will go scout the parameter. We will leave again when you are ready, at your discretion."

"If the princess goes back to Astron she will undoubtedly die," Athenos winced as he moved to sit up, "You presume to know too much, young protector."

His wound had healed from the day before. An effect of the demon's blood that coursed his veins, but it did not help his soreness. He could only recall bits and pieces from the night before, and did not try. They were best left untouched.

The guard clenched his fists tightly, jaw locked in a straight face. He turned his attention back to the princess and said intentionally louder than before, "M'lady I will state again my distrust for the man accompanying you." She only nodded. He strode off and out of sight. The princess looks at Athenos with mild irritation, but sighs and shakes her head. She picks up a piece of wood and whittles away at it with a short paring knife.

"You should rest up," she says after a short amount of time, "you weren't in good shape last night. You over exerted yourself...lucky that Erik came to when he did, or we might all be dead," she said, not looking up. "Although," she added with a smile, "there would be a sort of irony there, wouldn't it? The Tryvali's prize killed by their own design. I would relish that death." They sat in silence. Looking at her now, Athenos realized that she was not looking well - a few shades paler than she should be, and gaunter. Or eyes looked slightly sunken in. The guard named Erik returned, declaring the parameter safe. "Then we will follow Athenos, as he knows where we are going first. At his direction, you may scout ahead, if you wish," she added at his scowl. She placed the piece of wood in her own pack, and the paring knife in a piece of folded leather that she returned to Erik.

He rose, still covered in dried blood. He examined the princess more closely, but did not move near her, not wishing to defiler her presence. He moved to the fallen bear, it's flesh untouched by the nature around it.

"Come, protector" Athenos motioned to the guard. Erik reluctantly complied, at the princess's silent urging. He still stood quite a ways back and tense, as if it were to spring to life at any moment. Athenos knelt beside it, motioning for the guard to come beside him. He moved in closer, but still kept his distance.

"Watch," he stated, removing his left arm from underneath his cloak. He snapped towards the beast. A spark shot from his fingers and hit the dead flesh, it ignited, flashing red at first, but turning black. The guard took a step back, defensively. Athenos reached out his right hand, holding it in the growing flame. He felt fire lick his hand, but where heat was expected, there was only cold. He withdrew his hand.

"Feel it," Athenos commanded, the guard now perplexed and curious, if not a bit scared. He reached forward, pausing briefly before quickly jabbing his hand in and back out. He looked at his hand, and then back at the flames. He stuck his hand in more slowly this time.

"It's cold," he observed, mystified.

"Indeed, these were not ordinary creatures. They have been altered by magic," Athenos began to explain.

"Magic? What kind of magic could do this?" he stared, still in awe.

"A dark, forbidden magic. Necromancy, it's called. What you see here is but a dry husk of what once was a bear; it's life force drained."

"By whom?" the princess inquired, now standing behind the two.

"Nothing of this realm," he muttered. Renewing a less sinister spirit, he continued, "I can take you to Pryti, but no further. But first we must find running water, it would do us well to take a break. He observed the guard's injury and his own blood splattered appearance. He thought for a moment, recalling the night they had been running from the beasts, replaying it in his mind, and extrapolating which direction the stream would be.

He said nothing as he rose and gathered his things, entering the forest. It was early morning now, and enough light to navigate quite easily. It had not been a few minutes before they arrived. He waded in immediately after only taking a moment to drop his satchel, undeterred by the water's chill. The blood came off simply enough, but the memories did not. He pushed them out of his mind.

The water weight added to his clothes made walking more difficult, but he ignored the inconvenience and reached into his satchel, pulling out a few pieces of dried meat. He tossed one to the guard.

"You do not wish to bathe?" he asked the princess. She had dirt and grime over her clothes. Her body was probably sore; she was very well nearing her limit. She was simply not built to push this hard.

"That would be... Unseemly." She replied, averting her eyes.

He moved to sit beside her, offering her one of the pieces of dried meat, "For the bread."

Some time passed when nothing was said, they had finished eating their meager meal, and Erik was off scouting the area, or something of the sort. He hadn't really been paying attention to him. He sighed.

"You should get some sleep, you are no doubt exhausted," Athenos retrieved his cloak, hanging from a branch, now dry. He folded it into a small pillow and laid it on the ground, "Now sleep, princess, we are safe for now."

Post has been edited 1 time(s), last time on Jun 16 2012, 7:04 pm by Sacrieur.

Isador's eyes pulsed. His blade stood at ready, and the phantoms bayed at his whisper. But there was nothing. No man, no demon. Where there had once been his quarry before him... his mind searched for answers. He cursed under his whispy breath. A harp's chord played through his thoughts, but he had not thought of it. A memory, perhaps, reflected by the mirrors he had planted in the man's thoughts. But this did not seem to have come from him... The shadow cast away his spear in a flutter of ashes. Perhaps the man had allies, allies utilizing magic or elements he had yet to encounter. Indeed, a unique creature. He paused for a moment, taking in the silence of his forgotten world. He collected his thoughts and relaxed.

"Vain is your quest, starfallen. Be it the blade of shadows or the blade of flame... thee is marked."

Isador stepped back, allowing the warmth of mortal realm to encompass him once more. His eyes flashed, and the shadows around him flickered. He was staring at his bed roll once more. Night was still alive, and his violet glow cast a haunting gaze upon its worn fabric. His eyes drifted to the sidelines. Far away, but close enough, the night's watch kept guard of his camp, easily seen to his eyes, ever mindful of the goat paths beyond. His eyes drifted behind him - the other mortals, sleep with drink, albeit weapons at hand's reach. They did not know, nor care, of his ageless quarry in the night. Only that he had granted them their salvation when the world of their forefathers could not bare with their desires.

These men, most primal and purest of their species. Murderers, assassins, swindlers, they with no honor or sense of nobility. They who remained ignorant, either out of choice or out of fear, of the horrors that they had bound themselves to. And he, in turn for their restless servitude, had granted them their material desires. They had been raiding camps and caravans for quite a time now - amassing paltry human metals and other things they clung to so feverishly. They were careful with their raids, and so the other humans remained unaware of the scale of their operations. They had become quite well-armed - for humans, anyways. Fine steels and leathers, casually lifted from assorted trade routes. But only the rarest of them held any magical enhancement, and such enhancements were at best insignificant, with most so minor the humans could not detect them. For this, Isador was most displeased. The humans had been searching for a long time under his watch, though they knew not what for beyond their own earthly whims. Magical fonts, artifacts, anything of truly significant value. They had found nothing. Their ties ran deep in various criminal organizations, and though Isador was loathe to trust the tongues of men, their eyes and ears had found nothing of any value in the entire country thus far.

Perhaps the mortal realms were as meek and frail as the fire demons had believed, with the only commodity being an otherwise unperverted herd of fleshling cattle ready to be collected at a whim. Indeed, Isador had for a time focused his efforts on devouring the life force of humans - first to gain his strength, then to recover when his strength had failed him. In both accounts, humans were insufficient. In a few rare circumstances he had encountered minor demons - those of fire, mostly, presumably trying to rally human cattle to their own personal cause. Their life force was much more potent, the sum of their collections and their own strength. Now, though, the shadow realm's whispers were quieter, more difficult to tune to. Esofar's blade had dealt more than material damage to him. It had disrupted his attunement to the shadow realm. Isador's hand instinctively lingered to his side, touching the blade's handle. A terrible weapon, no doubt forged in the ocean of stars. Only a handful of times had he dared risk using it. All of those times, he had regretted having done so.

Until now, though, Isador's efforts had been simply focused on finding something worthwhile to absorb. A weapon, a beacon, anything magical or elemental in nature. However, he could sense no magic in the human worlds, even after so long within their midst. And of the demons he had found, none had offered any insight before he spilled their blood-drenched flame across the dead earth of men. He had considered that perhaps the mortals hoarded their artifacts in their keeps, but had yet to find any information regarding anything of significant enough value to cause such a disruption.

His thoughts drifted back to the man he had encountered. A starfallen - he who once bore divine blood - bonded with a fire demon, one he was sure was somehow connected to the royal brood of Esofar. The man was not alone. His recalled the conversation that had lead him upon his little adventure. Something about a princess. Although he had located the man through the shadow world, he had only a faint clue of where he was located in the physical one. And, were he to encounter the man in the physical realm, what assets did he have? For once in many years, Isador felt as though he had something worth directing his energy to. Would his men even be able to confront such a monster? Not likely. Not without help. Though they had poisons in their arsenal, none would guarantee any kind of an effect against a demon. Not unless he acquired... other devices.

Isador knelt upon his roll, investing the remainder of the night to focus on his extended recovery. As he did so, his thoughts drifted to water demons. When his men awoke they would have much work to do.