It is currently Thu Dec 13, 2018 8:25 pm




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 37 posts ]  Go to page Previous  1, 2
 Murder at Hallworth Castle (Part 2) 
Author Message
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 69
Location: California
Post 
Fury was livid.....

A party I wanted to go to...nice pleasant evening, good food, fine wine, meeting new people......

She put her hands on her hips, as her violet eyes took in Amon's drenched state and blood trickling down the side of his face. She looked down at her gown, now in tatters, in no way resembling the elegant dress she had arrived in. She pushed a wet strand of her hair back from her face as she swept her hand in front of her in frustration.

By the Gods! What the fuck do I get??? Whilst trying to have a tryst with my husband in what appeared to be a nice quiet, deserted garden, a maniac comes running from the bushes intent upon doing evil, my dress gets torn and dirty when I have to dissuade him from that intent. Then we find he has found a dead man under a bench near where I am being made love to by my husband. The garden then becomes the focus of a storm that seemingly wishes to rent the place assunder as it drenches us and then proceeds to rain ice balls down upon us, further turning my pleasant evening to crap.

And then to add more to my evening,
...Fury glared at Amon, my loving husband rescues me from being beaten to death by ice balls only to carry me into the house and hit me!!!

By this time they had reached where Lord Vinderhoss sat with his friends watching the play, which Fury had seen not one second of. She stopped in front of him, intending to demand he question this Denis person and find out just what in Hades was going on here.

The man didn't seem to notice her standing there in front of him which only fueled her wrath. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, intending to get his attention, instead Vinderhoss slide sideways and out of his seat, very obviously dead.

Fury stepped back as he fell over. Not one iota of sympathy did she feel as she threw her hands up and said...

What the fu....... now the host of this disastrous evening falls over dead. How very good of him to invite us to such a delightful event!!!

Fury looked at the Lady sitting on one side of Vinderhoss, then to the Lord sitting on the other side. Fury held her hand out to the Lady.........

I don't believe we've been introduced. I am Fury and you would be?

Turning back to the Lord, her eyes narrowing, Fury said.....You seem very familiar to me. I think we might have crossed pathes once or twice. Ah, yes, M'Lord Bran, I remember now.

Did you kill our host, M'Lord? Or did you perhaps just bore him to death?


Fury turned to Amon, now having to shout over the sounds of the raging storm, and the voices of those nearby who had witnessed Lord Vinderhoss's descent to the floor......

Amon, I think 'tis time we took our leave of this party from Hades. I do believe I have had all the fun I can handle.

Just then the storm seemed to grow even stronger and deafening crashes could be heard from every corner of the mansion.

_________________
"Passion is the thing of love in it's finest hour...Fury is passion pent up to long."


Sun Jul 25, 2004 1:04 pm
Profile
Pseudo-Voodoo Sidhe
User avatar

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 629
Location: Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow
Post 
The sorceress had just relaxed, curious about the nature of the play that had been arranged for their entertainment. The castle and its crowd almost reminded her of old times, better times when matters of faith and debt were less pressing. Did she long for those ages that had passed her by? Perhaps, perhaps not. Life had certainly been easier back in those times but at the same time she had been so blind, so naive in the past. Sometimes she had to wonder if anything had really changed, sometimes the mistakes she made in the present seemed as elementary as those she had made in the past. Experience was something that she had in spades and yet at times it seemed to do her no good whatsoever. The Sidhe at times doubted that all the experience in the isle would save her from the troubles and trials of her life.

A bloodied woman, her dress torn and in a terrible state turned Lyssia's attention away from the spectacle of the play. The dress might have been a fine thing once upon a time, now though...well the Sidhe doubted that there was any seamstress in the isle who could save it. Not that she was by any means an expert in such things, sewing was not something that had ever caught her attention. Her studies in the Art and history had left little time for anything else as she had grown up. Besides what good would such knowledge of really done her?

Lyssia watched with a look of detached boredom in her eyes as the woman touched their host only to have his body slide out of his chair. Death. It was interesting, to see how life finally fled a fleshy host once its time was done. Death came so early to some and so late to others, seemingly a thing of chance at times. What was it that allowed some to live longer than others? What kept death from certain doors even as it rampaged at others? And why did certain races seem to have set spans that were so very different from others? Humans seemed to live such short lives compared to elves, and even elves were but fleeting creatures compared to her own race of the Sidhe. But why? Did humans gain something by living, breeding the next generation and dying so quickly? Was their ability to breed so quickly the gain? It certainly would explain the higher numbers of them compared to the much slower aging and long-lived Sidhe.

She looked at the body of their deceased host, he had not seemed overly old for a human. Certainly not old enough to simply expire without some kind of interference. Yet he had not appeared ill the few times that Lyssia had seen him since she had arrived at the castle. And there were no obvious wounds upon his person that might account for his unexpected death. Most curious. Most odd. Most unexpected.

It certainly seemed as though the life expectancy of those within Hallworth Castle was surprisingly low.

The Sidhe sorceress reached out mentally with a tendril of the Art, trying to sense anything from their host. Nothing. He was, just as he appeared, quite dead. Had his soul already travelled onwards to some kind of afterlife? Lyssia knew that the soul existed and that there was something after the life of the flesh. She had heard some doubt the existance of both, claiming that death was simply the end, that it was the cessation of everything, that nothing continued afterwards. The Sidhe woman had often had to wonder at such people, there again she supposed that it did all come down to experience. Her experience had taught her that such things existed while their's had not...it was the benefit of a Sidhe's long life, to learn in the time of many humans lifetimes what could not be learnt in a single one.

She listened as the woman in the tattered dress introduced herself as Fury and then, before the Sidhe had answered, turned to the Lord Bran who sat on the other side of the corpse.

Corpse...in the space of only a handful of breaths she had gone from considering him to be their host to being nothing more than a corpse. She had made no conscious decision to do so and yet it had happened. In her mind he had gone from being a living man to one of the deceased. One of the many, many deceased that the sorceress remembered. The dead out-numbered the living in Lyssia's memory...the penalty of living so long.

Fury. That was a name from the past, and not the recent past of the Sanctum and its fanatics, but rather the times from long ago when the isle had been...somehow different. A time when there had been more souls in the isle and more alliances vying for the glory of their God. Of course whether it was the same woman from that time was a question that Lyssia could not answer. Still, if nothing else it was an interesting coincidence. Names did after all get used over and over, running in a family or bloodline at times. Though it did beg the question; how long would it be before she met a man with the name Quodomass? Or Thorin? How long before she ran into another who carried the name of one she had known long before?

The sorceress stood slowly, listening to the crashing sounds of the storm as it seemingly threw itself at the castle in an attempt to tear the very walls down. If you are curious as to my name I will give it to you, my lady Fury. I am Lyssia of Culaearien, once Lyssia of Gyppeswyk. As for the death of our host...why would you think that the lord Bran had some hand in it? Perhaps we all have some stain upon our soul that might point the finger of guilt in our direction?

_________________
SO - Into darkness...
Hlasta! Quetis Ilfirimain
Elador's Sváss


Tue Jul 27, 2004 10:34 am
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Sat Mar 22, 2003 9:59 am
Posts: 184
Location: Somewhere between the light and the darkness
Post 
We shall, it seems, have to continue this later Herald for it would not do to keep our host waiting upon us. Would you walk with me to our seats?

Ah. Entertainment. Amusing as the verbal sparring with the heathen may be, the intervention by the Sidhe sorceress is a welcome one, saving me as it does the effort of locating her amidst the gathering. It would, of course, be unseemly not to attend the entertainment promised by mine host. Offering my arm to the sorceress, I nod in consent.

The honour is mine, m'lady. From what I have seen thus far, I suspect our host will be providing something most interesting for the entertainment.

With the Sidhe sorceress on my arm, we find our seats. To my surprise, the seat on Lyssia's left is taken by none other than our host for the evening, Miles Vinderhoss. Protocol dictates introducing myself to my host, something I have yet to do. Something for after the play. I cannot help but wonder what his reaction will be. The invitation made it apparent that he had little idea of who I was. How much did you know, Miles Vinderhoss? "Elador". Was that all you had, a name? It was all I had, once. There was a time when all I knew of myself was that one name. Elador. I cannot help but suspect that you knew little more than that, for the legacy of the Shadowborn is hardly the sort of history one would seek to invite to such a gathering as this.

The vast majority of my interactions with the populace of the Sunlit Lands since my rebirth in the cool darkness of the world below has been the sanguinary dance of battle under the banner of the Sanctum Officium. I have had little enough interaction with those outside of the Officium who venerate the Trickster, even less with those misguided enough to place vain hope in salvation by one of the other two. Given the profound nature of my betrayal, I have not, in all honesty, sought much of such interaction. Until now.

-={*}=-

The play itself is ... fascinating. Murder, betrayal, intrigue, madness, passion. The Officium in microcosm, almost. Yet in terms of "surprising", it is far oustripped by the events at its end.

Begin with the appearance of a bloodstained man, soaked to the skin from the storm that batters the mansion, a fitting accompaniment to the play. His efforts seemingly ignored by the host.

Follow that with the appearance of an equally storm-battered lady, her dress a tattered, ragged travesty of high fashion. I cannot help but wonder why these two allowed themselves to be caught outside in such conditions. Her complaints are audible long before she reaches our seats...

... where her touch sends the body of Miles Vinderhoss sliding bonelessly from its seat at Lyssia's left hand.

It would seem our host has left us. Permanantly.

The lady Fury - an ... apt ... name, to be sure, seems quick to place accusation. Fortunately for her, it is not my lady of Culaearien who she leaps to accuse.

_________________
Lyssia's Significant Other
0100 GMT Saturday 27th March 2004
Herald of Dawn and Darkness
Maxim - where the game is the story


Tue Jul 27, 2004 11:44 am
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Thu Nov 27, 2003 4:08 am
Posts: 265
Post 
Anarane had been watching the play intently. She was not sure where Kain had gotten himself too. The last she had seen of him, he had gone to talk with Dante. After she had found a place to sit, the the commotion before, the lights went down and she watched the play. Ash had stayed close at hand. Whiles the play was in progress, Noah decided it was time to eat. She had chuckled lightly at his demands. Pulling his blanket up, she let him feed while she enjoyed the play. She was a bit concerned that Kain had not returned to table, but she was not really worried. She could sense that he was close and Ash was with her, so he had no concerns about their safety.

Ana had been so engrossed in the play and taking care of the babe, that at first, she had not notice a second commotion arising. As she looked in the directions of the sounds, she saw the body slide to the floor. Her eye widen when she realize who the body had belonged to. It was their host! Noah, feeling her tense up, fussed as he nursed. Bring her attention back to the boy, soothing him until he settled back down.

Ana whispered quietly to Ash. I don't know where Kain has gotten to, but I don't like the looks of things over there. Perhaps it would be a good idea if we prepare to leave, if things start getting out of hand. I don't want any of us in harm's way. Especially that of the babe. She looked over at Ash, then her eyes scanned to room, looking for Kain.

Worry not m'Lady. I will say close and I am sure that Kain is fine. But you are right, it might be a good idea to be ready to leave. I fear, though, with the storm raging outside, that no one will be going anywhere.

Ana was so intent on the babe and taking care of Noah, that she had not noticed the fury of the storm outside. She did not like the feel of things here. Something, most assuredly, was amiss here.

_________________
A New Beginning, A New Life.
Without the Darkness there can not be light.
A dark wind is rising. Sending discord into many lives.
Death in Effect


Tue Jul 27, 2004 12:24 pm
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 62
Location: The Far Side of the World :D
Post 
Amon stood at Fury's side, his eyes narrowing at Lyssia's words and a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

I would assume that Fury asked that question due to the fact that Lord Bran was seated directly beside our late host, he commented, nodding at the seat where Vinderhoss was seated. She also disregarded her own statement, showing that she does not truly think that the Lord Bran had a hand in our host's demise. Though now that I stand here, I do believe Lord Vinderhoss was bored to death.

Amon forced himself to ignore the thoughts swirling in his mind, and he bristled at the close proximity of the one who appeared to be Lyssia's accompaniment to the party. He gazed round at the partygoers and annoyance blazed within him as he did. Movement near the door caught his eye and he watched as a messenger scrambled towards him.

From the lady Isis, he said, and Amon recognized the boy as his cousin's scribe. Some sense of calm in the storm must have broken through, at least temporarily, for Isis to have sent him here.

He took the missive and read it, a smile crossing his lips as he realized what sort of state Isis must have been in when she wrote it. Amon folded the parchment and tucked it into his pocket, turning to Fury.

We need to leave, he said. Something's happened.

As he faced Lyssia and her escort, Amon jerked his head towards the hallway that led to the garden.

I would not concern myself with the stains on the soul at the moment, he said. Rather, I'm more interested in the stains of blood that would taint the hands of one who has committed not one, but two murders tonight. Take a walk, into the garden. I assure you, the drama does not end with the play.

Grasping Fury's hand in his, Amon motioned for the scribe to follow them out. He did not care what weather he had to brave, but he would make it to his cousin's manor. He was thoroughly partied out.

_________________
In The End, We Will Remember Not The Words of Our Enemies, But The Silence of Our Friends.


Tue Jul 27, 2004 2:17 pm
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Sat Mar 22, 2003 9:59 am
Posts: 184
Location: Somewhere between the light and the darkness
Post 
I can feel the man's irritation, blazing like a star within him. Anger ... and arrogance, that smug little smile lifting the corner of his mouth. An angry, arrogant, patronising little man. If he has any sense - which, to be candid, from one who seems to have stayed out in a storm of almost supernatural ferocity, seems questionable, he will stop now, before it becomes too late.

If he is not ... well, if not, I may have to deal with him. That, of course, is if he should be lucky, of course. If he is unlucky, it will be the Sidhe sorceress rather than myself.

The Officium has, one more than one occasion, reminded me of a wolf-pack. Yes, we may struggle amongst ourselves, plotting and scheming and manipulating one another, seeking to advance personal agendas that are not only wildly varied but oft-times in opposition to another's. Just as wolves do. I ... remember ... wolves. I remember also that they are dangerous. As are we. For though we may struggle against each other, any outsider seeking to strike at a member of the Officium will find that we stand as one against the common foe, the pack united to drag down the attacker before returning to that intricate dance amongst ourselves. For we are the Officium.

Feed into your hate.

It makes you strong.


As if to underscore my dark mood, the storm winds slam into the shutters, rattling them so hard I cannot help but wonder if they will withstand much more punishment. The thunder rolls ominously.

Stains on the soul?

What know you of stains on the soul, Amon Re? You stand here before the Shadowborn and talk to ME of stains on the soul?

Little man, you have no idea of what you speak. You have no idea of the Trickster God's dark blessing upon my soul. Perhaps, one day, you will understand some part of the despair that such a blessing brings, all unsought. My salvation. My curse. Pray that you never achieve such an understanding, little man. Pray you never have to stare into your soul and meet the gaze of something else that lurks within.

I would not be so hasty to dismiss the stains upon a soul. Bloodstains wash away, bloodied hands can be cleansed, but to cleanse a soul is no such simple matter.

As to taking a walk in the gardens, it may have escaped your attention in all this ... excitement ... but there still appears to be a storm raging outside. From the banshee wail of the wind, and the crack of the thunder, I fear this storm will not abate for some time. I hope your business elsewhere is not urgent, for I suspect that leaving the castle during this storm may prove harder than you anticipate.

_________________
Lyssia's Significant Other
0100 GMT Saturday 27th March 2004
Herald of Dawn and Darkness
Maxim - where the game is the story


Tue Jul 27, 2004 7:16 pm
Profile
Traveler
User avatar

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 121
Location: Arkansas
Post 
Bran watched the interplay between Elador and Amon Re, Fury and Lyssia with some amusement from his position beside Miles Vinderhoss' dead body. Most of the guests stood in groups while some remained in theri seat whiel the servants looked on in plae denial.

The man that had accompanied Fruy and AMon Re from the garden, Denis Chamberlain, stood off to the side in some kind of shock. Bran didn't even think that the man had noticed the demise of his employeer.

Dammit man, Bran said as he grasped Denis by the hand, You have to get ahold of yourself. Lord Vinderhoss is dead. There are important people here who at this moment as far as I am concerned are all suspects.

Miles....dead? Denis seemed to shake the dark cloud that had decended on him off as he looked toward Miles' body.

Bran strod over to Miles and kicked his chair away from the table in iritation. Miles body jerked against the momentum and then slide down to the floor, like a marionette with its strings cut off.

Dee eee aaaaa Deee. Bran said each letter of the word seperately, emphasising his point by poking his index finger into Denis' chest repeatedly.

_________________
"fortes fortuna adiuvat"
DF


Tue Jul 27, 2004 9:41 pm
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Wed Jul 14, 2004 12:10 pm
Posts: 2
Post 
I watched as the Lady Fury and Lord Amon Re left the Great Hall. everyone was watching as Lord Elador spoke to Amon Re's retreating back, but something seemed to puzzle me.

The page.

The storm must have slacked off some in order fo a boy to appear at the castle.

Quickly I followed them through the halls, blending into the scenery as only a servant can. They entered into the entrance hall and the boy produced an amulet from his pocket. Amon smiled and grasped it in his hand, then they vanished.

I hate mages.

The storm raged around the castle. I could hear it whistling thorugh the cracks in the walls. It seemed I was not going anywhere. I returned to the Great Hall by route of the kitchen.

It was all I could do not to laugh as Bran Feargahal kicked poor, dead as a doornail, Miles over onto the floor and begin to assault the lovelorn Chamberlain.

Ah Denis, Cameron had been such a treasure to discover in the backwaters of Ishtar on the Yyngis. The only mistake he made was actually falling in love with you - what a fool.

It seems I am destined ot remain here at Hallworth Castle for a while, perhpas a bit more fun will be in order.

Perhaps the child, or maybe the young maiden or one of her flattering companions......


Tue Jul 27, 2004 9:54 pm
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 69
Location: California
Post 
Fury's eyes narrowed as they walked away. She turned around and met the eyes of he who stood by the Lady Lyssia.

Say what you will of me and Amon..... call me what you wish, a whore, crude, lowborn, I am sure you can find many other things. I care not, for you see I am none of those and I know who and what I am. I do not pretend to be anything else.

'Tis you who belittles with no reason. 'Tis you who thinks himself superior and above all others. No being is more superior than the other, no race that is not equal to all others.

We did not make crude remarks about you, we did not look down our nose at you because we and you are different, we made no threats upon your person.

'Tis a pity that you judged us so quickly, without benefit of a reason.

You are to be pitied and you are a fool.

Goodbye....I will not say it has been a pleasure for it has not, though had attitudes been different it could have been.


She turned back to Amon just as the amulet dropped in his hand and vanished with him.

_________________
"Passion is the thing of love in it's finest hour...Fury is passion pent up to long."


Wed Jul 28, 2004 11:30 pm
Profile
Pseudo-Voodoo Sidhe
User avatar

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 629
Location: Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow
Post 
Threats? Crude remarks? What exactly did the lady Fury speak of? What was she accusing the sorceress and the Herald of?

What an...interesting scene, the sorceress said softly as the lady Fury and her companion left. She shook her head a little, the emotions, reactions and the reasons behind them of other races would forever elude her it seemed. Lyssia had merely asked why they would accuse Bran and had apparently earned their ire for her question. They did not seem to have realised the real reason why the sorceress had asked the question. After all if they had asked Bran if he had been responsible for the act then why would they not also think that she might have had some hand in it? The sorceress had been seated to the other side of their deceased host after all, she could have killed him as easily as Bran.

There again, who needed proximity to kill? There were more than a few ways of ending the life of another from a distance.

Yet seemingly she had not been suspected by the lady Fury and her gentleman companion. Curious. After all, those who knew of the Sidhe woman, who knew the rumours that were spoken of her...well such rumours made her a far more likely suspect. Oh yes, she knew the rumours that were spoken about her, she knew the whispered words that were muttered behind her back. Murder was a word that turned up with an almost frightening regularity for those who delved into the sorceress's background. And the murder that was muttered about most often was that of the demon Maledict. The Torturer. The leader of the Sanctum Officium.

But not many knew what to make of such rumours and stories. After all the words seemed to be constradicted by the very existance of the demon and the fact that the Sidhe woman apparently owed allegiance to the self-same guild. Rumour said that the sorceress had struck the demon with a blade of cold iron, a weapon that was poison to both their kinds. Rumour said that the demon had died at that time. And yet reality showed that although the demon had been quiet about that time he had lived afterwards. What exactly was the truth of those stories? Was there a way through the contradiction to the kernel of truth that had to lay at the heart of it? Oh certainly there was...and Lyssia knew the truth of the story better than any other...after all she was the one who had raised the knife.

Still it seemed that the current murder of their host had not caused suspicion to fall upon the Sidhe. It was definitely better for it to be that way, the sorceress had not wish to defend herself against such accusations. She had not travelled from Culaearien to Hallworth Castle just to walk over old territory and old memories. Lyssia had expected nothing more than an evening's entertainment with perhaps the chance to meet and greet some of the newer powers in the isle, men and women who she might not have otherwise had the chance to speak to. Few ever made the journey across the wastelands to the burning red sands of the desert to speak with the sorceress. The invitation had given her a chance to break out of the life that had become her own in recent ages, a life that saw her protected but yet also almost confined. The desert and the tribes were fearsome guards to keep souls from her door, the invitation from Miles had seemed almost like a key to escape them for a time.

And now? Now Miles was dead, and apparently Fury and her gentleman were somehow reading more and yet less into the words of both Elador and herself. She could not understand the explosion of fire and fury that had come from the lady and had been directed towards the Shadowborn. The Herald had only spoken of stains upon the soul and walking in the garden. Words that had apparently been mistaken for much more, for insults and belittling comments. Most strange, perhaps the isle outside the desert had changed a great deal since she had last travelled outside Culaearien's borders on social matters. The sorceress could not say, the social and political stage of the isle changed so rapidly she found herself barely able to keep up with it. Maybe the Shadowborn or herself had something that, while no more than polite for normal in past times, was somehow a terrible transgression in the current world. It was a puzzle and yet another reminder of why she kept herself so separate from the majority of the world. The world and the shorter-lived races changed so quickly that it was almost enough to set the Sidhe's mind a-whirl.

Though Lyssia could not begin to imagine what either Elador or herself had said that would cause the woman to leap to claiming insults. Words like whore had not been uttered until the lady Fury herself had spoken them. And there had been little enough judging of any soul, how could any judge another fully on a first meeting? Such judgement was too quick, too eager, and all too likely to be wrong. Although on their leave-taking the sorceress had to wonder if there would be any further meetings. Somehow she doubted that their paths would cross any time soon. Lyssia had gained many foes over her many years, and even more souls who thought ill of her. But in all that number the Sidhe could not remember having gained such a state from another in what seemed the blink of an eye. As Lyssia thought over the last minute or so she had to wonder if perhaps something else had occured that she had missed. Had time leapt ahead of her causing her to miss some terrible insult to the lady Fury? Puzzling indeed.

Still...with the disappearance of Fury and Amon-Re it did leave Lyssia with the unanswered question of the woman's identity. Was she really the lady Fury that Lyssia remembered from long before? Or was she the woman's namesake, perhaps named after the lady of the Dark Crown? An unanswered question but not one that had any obvious answer any time soon.

The sorceress turned to Elador, Well that was unexpected. It seems that we are fools and to be pitied though quite why I must admit I am at a loss to explain. The sorceress smiled just a little, a hint of amusement dancing in her grey eyes. Perhaps we had best move our attention elsewhere...death comes to Hallworth Castle with ease tonight, I find myself wondering who might be next?

_________________
SO - Into darkness...
Hlasta! Quetis Ilfirimain
Elador's Sváss


Thu Jul 29, 2004 6:47 am
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Thu Nov 27, 2003 4:08 am
Posts: 265
Post 
There was a chill in the air, but it was much more then from the storm raging outside the castle. Anarane watched the scene unfolding a few tables over. She nearly gasped as she saw their host slump to the ground. She reached out gingerly with her mind and found only nothingness within his. The life within the body was gone. She recalled the scene she has seen before the play began. The woman, her companion and a third. Watching the exchange of words, she could not hear what was being said. As she watched, the third person was not to be seen. After the flurry of words the other two soon disappeared down a hallway. Ana had notice a movement behind them but was unable to discern who or what it was.

She made no attempt to go over to see what was going on. Though there as a feel in the air, she thought it better to stay where she was. She would find out soon enough what was going on. Right now her concern was to protect herself and her son. With Ash close at hand, she knew that no one would be able to get close to her and Noah. Ana would give her life to protect their son.

Ana looked over at Ash. She wanted to know what was going on, but right now, until they found out what was going on it was best that they stayed together. She looked around the room once again trying to find Kain. Where could he have gotten off to. She knew it could very well be that he was doing his own investigation into what had happened. Still she worried that he could be in danger.

She did not like the feel of the way things were going. With all her concerns about what was going on, Ana felt the rune in her hand come to life. Keeping her left hand covered under Noah's blanket, she didn't want any attention brought to them. She could feel the warmth of the rune's energy begin to spread though out her body. She knew that it would generate a field around her and the babe. Whether it would help block her thoughts she was not sure. She did know that as it got stronger it would offer protection. She, still had a lot to learn about the rune that her brother had place there.

The room was now filled with whispers as the word of the host's death spread. It was also said that the body of another had been found in the garden earlier. Anarane did not like the feel of things here. With the storm raging outside it was obvious that no one was going anywhere. She saw a bright flash of streaking lightning, followed by a crash of thunder that rattled the windows, nearly shaking the table that she sat at near the wall.

Ana cradled Noah close, trying to keep him calm. She hoped that the glow and warmth of the rune would help in that. She looked over at Ash. He could see the concern in her eyes. At the moment the only thing that he could do was to stay with her and wait and see what was going to come of all of this.

_________________
A New Beginning, A New Life.
Without the Darkness there can not be light.
A dark wind is rising. Sending discord into many lives.
Death in Effect


Thu Jul 29, 2004 2:38 pm
Profile
Stablehand
User avatar

Joined: Sat Mar 22, 2003 9:59 am
Posts: 184
Location: Somewhere between the light and the darkness
Post 
If only all of life's little problems could be convinced to remove themselves so easily...

Death, it seems, walks this gathering, indeed. Two have died already, this evening, if the claims of our so suddenly departed fellows are to be believed, for there was mention of a body in the garden.

So, what do I know? Miles Vinderhoss is dead. There are rumours of another body in the garden. Death walks the halls of Hallworth Castle. Does the bony hand of the Reaper reach out at random to snuff the spark of life from a body, or is there a pattern to this dance of death?

A pattern ...

And in a sudden flash of cold insight, several previously-isolated pieces of information fall together into an all-too-revealing pattern. I may be wrong, but there are only so many coincidences one can encounter before the logical mind must begin to question, to look for causality behind the seeming-vagaries of randomness and chance. That cold, emotionless awareness that is a part of me, a part of my dark heritage, unsought blessing of the Trickster God, stirs, dispassionately reviews the facts and weaves threads of what may or may not be truth together in a compelling tapestry.

I address my words to the Lord Fearghal as well as the Sorceress.

Tell me, am I the only one amongst this company to find the sudden departure of that couple more than a touch suspicious? Miles Vinderhoss is dead, as is apparently one other.

I find it a curious coincidence that Amon-Re and Fury should happen to be the people to discover both bodies. Curious that the second - or rather, the first - body should have been discovered in the garden, amidst a storm of such ferocity. It would be unfounded of me to suggest that the pelting rain would offer a killer the perfect opportunity to wash blood from hands or clothing, or that Amon-Re was bleeding when he entered the hall.

I find it a curious coincidence that, while Miles Vinderhoss is deceased, there has only been one amongst our number who has suggested that his death was murder. I would not presume to speculate on the manner of his passing so soon, with so little evidence - yet there was one who did not speculate, but came straight to the point and spoke the name of murder. One has to wonder how Amon-Re could be so sure it was by no natural cause that Miles Vinderhoss left this company. Furthermore, although I cannot offer any more proof than my word that my own eyes beheld such a thing, it seemed to me that Amon-Re's mouth was twisted in a smirk as he stood before us, as his own lady "discovered" that Miles had died. I had assumed that this was simple amusement at his clumsy attempt at condescension before the lady Lyssia, but perhaps it was because he knew something we did not.

That pair seemed to have spent their entire time at this gathering either fighting, or fawning over each other in a fashion that would constitute public indecency in several cultures that I could name. Both courses of action have the questionable merit of discouraging others from seeking their company, of encouraging their being ignored. What better cover for one up to no good?

And, of course, an all-too-convenient departure, coincidentally just after they had found Miles Vinderhoss to be dead, just after they called it murder where none other had used such a word, just after they had spoken of a second murder seemingly also uncovered by themselves. Just after they had levelled accusations of their own, a messenger appears with, seemingly, a missive requiring their presence elsewhere so urgently they felt compelled to leave immediately by magical artifice.

It strikes me as a set of circumstances which involve there being an awful lot of coincidences surrounding Amon-Re and Fury.

An awful lot of coincidences indeed. Am I the only one here to find that surprising?

_________________
Lyssia's Significant Other
0100 GMT Saturday 27th March 2004
Herald of Dawn and Darkness
Maxim - where the game is the story


Wed Aug 04, 2004 7:07 pm
Profile
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 37 posts ]  Go to page Previous  1, 2


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
cron
Powered by phpBB © phpBB Group.
Designed by Vjacheslav Trushkin for Free Forums/DivisionCore
Free Browser Based Strategy Game - Fantasy Authors, Books and Series