Curse

Tokey Mcpot · Aug 03, 2005, 01:07 AM // 01:07

In the dark of the night, Tokey heard a noise from behind him. He quickly extinguished the flame, the light from which he had been walking by. His light would stand as a beacon to his pursuers, and he needed to keep as low a profile as possible. The pyromancer quickly looked around to find a hiding place, but found nothing, as his eyes had adjusted to the bright light of his flame, and now was almost blind by the dim moonlight. He could make out the vague outline of a hill against the dark blue sky. Frantically he felt around for a place to hide and found one in the form of a rock outcrop. With it being the only option, Tokey ducked behind the stone just in time, as the two large men came into view.

Hiding for his life, Tokey kept dead still, peeking through a crack in the side of the massive stone. The two scrawny men walked directly towards him, completely oblivious to the fact. Still out of earshot of the huddled silhouette, they conversed.

"So, Nephal told me only half the story," one inquired. "Something about a takeover?"

His accomplice laughed heartily, "I'd hardly call it a takeover, more like a... what's the word." He stopped in his tracks and pondered for a second. "You know, where one person doesn't like the other, and words are exchanged, and lots of people are upset and all that. Anyway, you needn't worry. I have known Tokey for years."

The other man hesitated, waiting for the completion of the sentence. He realized it wasn't coming. "And?" he asked.

"Well, he's a nice guy, if not a little quiet. You know what they say, you have to watch the quiet ones," the older man chuckled.

"You know, you aren't doing much to calm my nerves here Knul," came the reply, sounding a little worried.

Knul stopped again, this time quite suddenly. He whispered slowly, "So, Rathus, have you ever done battle with a grawl before?" This confused the naive young man.

"Nope, why?" he said.

"Because... there's a first time for everything." The fireball was timed perfectly, and as Knul uttered the last syllable, a flame shot from his fingertips. The incendiary globe flashed through the air and hit the grawl in the chest, knocking it back.

The grawl that had caught Tokey's scent trail had been only feet away from the outcrop, and was blasted back into a pile of weeds, out cold (or, as the case was, rather warm). Tokey had been so busy paying attention to the two men, he had not noticed the creature just about to attack him from behind. Seeing the flash of light, Tokey thought he had been spotted, and jumped out from behind the rock, firing a fireball at the two men as he cleared the edge of his bunker.

Knul took the brunt of the force from the attack square in the chest, and had the wind knocked out of him, he knelt on the ground to regain his composure, as Rathus pursued Tokey.

Running as fast as possible, Tokey found an ideal valley. His survival instincts and training kicking in, he cast a Fire Storm in the valley, so that the man chasing him would at least be injured in the storm. As he turned and ran, it occurred to him.

"Shit."

- - -

A few hundred yards away, the men that had given the orders to Rathus and Knel saw the night sky light up with the trails of hundreds of pieces of burning sulphur.

Soon there were 10 more men on the hunt. And closing in.

- - -

Exhausted from running, Tokey slowed down. The men pursuing him were not far behind. Coughing and wheezing, Tokey made one last dash, as he heard the mob approach. He dare not even turn for fear that it would give them the extra second they would need to get in range for a shot at him. Unfortunately, they didn't need it. Already weary, Tokey was near death after the Phoenix hit him.

On the ground, pathetic and weak, Tokey writhed in pain. Exhausted, he gave up. As he rolled over, he looked up and saw the face of his employer, Decklan.

"Friend, you know we mean you no harm," were the last words Tokey thought he would ever hear. The words rolled off the tongue of his captor like the skin sliding from a serpent. For just a second, a fire glowed in Decklan's eyes, a fire that Tokey was familiar with. With immolation imminent, Tokey slowly brought himself to his knees.

- - -

Decklan dropped to the ground. Dead.

Tokey heard the thump and looked over at the corpse. Still exhausted, he slumped to the ground, still expecting the rest of the group to haul him away. He heard a footstep. Then another. They were backing away from him. Soon they turned and ran.

A pair of dark black boots appeared in front of him. The last thing Tokey remembered was the figure kneeling down, then he blacked out.

- - -

Tokey's eyes opened slowly. His eyes adjusting to the bright light of the room he was in, the pyromancer sat up. After taking a few seconds to gather his surroundings, he realized he had no idea where he was. He lay back again, waiting for his captor or savior to find that he had awoken.

Ristaron · Aug 14, 2005, 08:43 AM // 08:43

A door creaked open to the right. Tokey looked over, his eyes now adjusted to the daylight flooding in through the window above his comfortable cot. Through the doorway, a graceful monk entered, the tatoos flowing down his arms in a woven pattern capturing Tokey's gaze. The Pyromancer propped himself up on his elbows in the bed, and the monk finally seemed to notice him.
"Oh, you're awake." The voice was calming, but strong. A smile crept onto the man's chizeled face, little more than a curving of the ends of his lips. His gleaming gray eyes looking Tokey over. Setting down a wicker basket of herbs, the monk strolled gracefully to side of the bed and took a small canteen from the beside table. Pouring a small glass full, he gave it to the Pyromancer.
"Drink up, it will help you regain your strength." Looking suspiciously at the liquid in the glass, Tokey decided it was safe, and downed it in a single gulp.
Immediately, the faint chill that had coursed through his veins vanished, replaced by a warming sensation that cleared Tokey's mind.
"Where am I?" he asked at last.
"This is a castle, safe from whatever hunts you. Now that you are awake, I can introduce myself. I am Venayo, I helped found this place many years ago."
"You saved me from the others?"
Venayo's smile remained, though his expression changed slightly.
"No", he said, "but the man who did is on his way." Venayo refilled Tokey's glass with the same metalic-looking liquid from before, and the Pyromancer again gulped it. He was feeling fully refreshed when the door opened a little wider than it had slightly closed to, admitting a man of rare status in Ascalon. But this status was not something many - Token included - found a good trait. The dark skin and white hair had become a brand of hatred.
"Mountainfolk!" he hissed, leaping up in his bed. His arm coiled as he prepared to launch a fireball, but Venayo lifted his arms and Tokey immediately felt drowsy.
"Do not be too hasty to kill the one who saved your life", the monk said placidly, as Tokey slipped down onto the bed, his eye-lids feeling heavy. But he fought to stay awake, the sight of a mountainfolk sending his mind reeling.
"I think he will listen now, Venayo", the dark-skinned man said after a few moments, "there's no need to keep him like this."
Almost immediately, the sleepiness lifted from Tokey, and he was left sitting akwardly in something resembling a nightgown, staring at the mountainfolk.
"My name is Ristaron", the man said, he maintained his distance on the other side of the room, leaning against the oak wall casually. Tokey's eyes widened, he had heard strange stories of this dark-skinned ranger before. Though, he had never put much stock into them.

*

Ristaron stared at the visitor to the castle. Venayo had mended his cuts and scrapes well, his burns even better. Patting the monk on the shoulder gently, Ristaron's midnight eyes met Venayo's gray ones, and the monk smiled his gentle curving of the lips before turning and leaving, closing the door gently behind him.
"You put up quite a fight against those people", Ristaron remarked. Half a compliment, half a remark. "Who were they?"
Expecting the drawn silence new people had when first talking with him, he let the Pyromancer take his time debating if he could be trusted. At last, the young man replied.
"Scouts", he breathed.
Ristaron sensed much hidden behind the answer, but did not press the issue.
"Do you have a name? Or at least something for me to call you by." The second option Ristaron had added, seeing the distrust in Tokey's eyes. But he was patient.
"Tokey", the man said at last.