Author Topic: Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook  (Read 2998 times)

Cursed Ink

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Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook
« on: August 24, 2016, 03:49:10 AM »
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"A wave of gold cascaded down a mountain of the same, crowns and ancient swords of strange make and stranger design crested the tumbling shining metal, ebon claws clacked against stone in a cave made alien in its material, acrid sulfuric smoke curled across the shifting shapes, fire and brimstone crackled in the air shining a hellish cast across the walls of the den, silhouetting a figures shadow. . ."

He looked up from his aging paper, drawing along the line of the border between the Blashyrkh home to a nomadic, but fiercely territorial people and the Keep of Kalessin, never seen but their borders were clear. His voice cracked out, dry under the beating oppressive sun. "Don't you think this is worthless?" His companion a wiry older fellow with sallow sunken cheeks and eyes like obsidian spheres looked back, "What is? This plateau?" He motioned around with the cracking dry hand. He shook his head flicking his auburn hair about, "No, our profession, how can a man draw a map, knowing full well in a week, these borders will have shifted." He absently kicked one of the sparse few weeds growing in the dust-bowl around them. "Well. True. But they do fetch a good price if they're current, always a warlord looking for his slice." The older man had taken his point perhaps too well, the will to carry on sapped away as he tucked away his own map of the region in his belt and took a seat, dusting off a jutting rock like a cushioned throne.

The day grew dark, blackened clouds began to roll over the plains, orange sand turned from the warm hue to a dreary grey beneath the sky. Thunder thoom'd and shook the earth, and the rain broke upon the ground in a torrent. The older man whos hair had turned from a salt and pepper to a black under the warm rains sniffed and looked up with deep confusion, and the younger of the two spoke first, "What is it old man?" his response came slow and halting. . .

"Sulfur."

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South of Heaven
« Reply #1 on: August 24, 2016, 11:40:28 PM »
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"The dark maroon clouds of dust lifted from the ground under beat of heavy wings, the arteries and veins spider-webbing through the immense membrane of the wing, a soft whistle of poisonous air leaking through the cracks and holes in the wings leathery surface, broken and dead earth sprawled out below, the shadow of the gargantuan beast flowed and snaked across the world as the light of the sun died in the west, and the dotted clots of houses rushed towards the smoking razor maw of the being - "tRembLe'"


"Ride damn you, Ride!" The younger man called angrily to his horse whipping at its hind flanks with his unfinished map as the thick lather of sweat dripped from the horses neck onto the dry crackling land below, clods of desiccated earth flew through the air leaving a cloud of crimson dust in their wake, the older man called to his companion, "Don't worry Rook, we'll tell Eisregen to cover their crops and it will be fine. Its not as though we'll be dealing with Iced Earth again." His own horse snorted out pink foam as the hooves of the beasts thundered away from the sulfuric rain, the region being both watered and poisoned in one foul swoop.

The sun dipped into the west with surprising speed, sinking the landscape into a monochrome blue night and chilling the area to as cold as the day was hot. Yet the old man looked wild, his eyes line and aged were wide and taught with confusion and fear. "Do you smell that boy? Beneath the sulfur, Smoke." He did not have to speak any more, whipping his head to the side he yanked the bridle of his steed and kicked hard, forcing the weathered animal onward as Rook too set off after him, it did not take long to crest Agathodaimon Ridge, that overlooked the hamlet of Eisregen, the old man let out a whine, and a slow exhale. His body sagged in his seat, shoulders dropping low as his face split into a well of despair.

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Seek and Destroy
« Reply #2 on: August 30, 2016, 08:24:04 PM »
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"Great wings folded into armored shapes and crackled as scales ripped and popped to accommodate them, the bleeding of smoke stopped as the fanged maw closed to silence the crackling of flames. The body of the beast curled up amid the ashen ruins of the decimated town and closed its eyes to slumber once more."

They ran, pushing the horses over the line once more as thick lathers of sweat grew on the horses flanks, and pink foam dribbled from the flaring nostrils of the beasts. The younger man took the lower path of a rocky ridge and spurred on the horse with harder and harder whips of its reigns, a loose rocks was all it took as the ground shifted beneath shodden hooves his world turned on its side and he tumbled down into the rolling bank of mist, unable to free himself from the crashing and crumbling he found himself lost in a strange forest, a forest that should not be. . .
« Last Edit: September 10, 2016, 01:46:51 AM by Cursed Ink »

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Seasons in the Abyss
« Reply #3 on: September 04, 2016, 04:53:33 AM »
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"Smoke whirled about the cave, through his eyes he saw the ceiling, melting rock of centuries shaping solid stone and minerals into mighty spires jutting from the roof like terrifying monstrous teeth and he felt his hair wet against the solid floor, sticky and warm with primordial blood, he rose brushing the gore and grit from his naked form, newborn eyes painfully blinking at the crackling light of ever roaring flames, and he saw her, nude, dark and terrifying. . ."


Weeks he had been in this new land, cold and alone. Like most others that first arrived he had set out to become a mercenary and make his fortune, rapidly learning his life of peace and quiet had ill prepared him for these trails, even being from the Border Kingdoms he had not actually met combat more then once or twice. The rain seemed to fall constantly, a curious but welcome change to the arid plains and sharp blasts of steaming water of his home, though that was one of the few changes. Battle still roared where ever he went, within his first few days he watched a legion of guardsmen butchered by a single cursed swordswoman.

He moved from combat to attempting a trade, finding great pleasure in the art of smelting and smithing, quickly enamored by the flames and the heat, the dripping of the metal. And lo a single copper dagger.
« Last Edit: February 09, 2017, 03:28:41 PM by Cursed Ink »

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Re: Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook
« Reply #4 on: September 15, 2016, 08:29:03 AM »
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"Flames crackled, melting away his flesh in great licking roars, he screamed back in defiance as his face peeled away. Blackened flesh made crumbling leather, it exploded from his skull. His blackened skeleton crawled towards his enemy, flaming skeletal digits reaching out in anger towards his foe. He fell apart into a heap of ash, leaving behind only the fire, his screams echoing through his mind."

The hammer clanged down on the anvil sending a wash of sparks over the man, he ached all over his burns having been healed by magic, but magic couldn't fix everything and the wash of scar had darkened his skin, turning over the glowing metal he clanged down the hammer again, for once thankful for his solitude, his fledgling month in these brave new lands had started painfully lonely, now he had found himself awash in friends, almost family, occasionally his hungers got the better of him but he had begun relegating himself to a simple life. Smith during the day, sometimes fight for money, and seek the comforts of women and wine in the evening.

He remembered the magic, the burning horrible magic and a little part of him was thankful it did not work, perhaps he was not destined for greatness, no, just a quiet smith. He had been offered employment as a guard at a playhouse, and he looked forward to his work. Smithing had become painful with the burns, but he persisted, they would heal no doubt, and as he doused the final sword within the water barrel beside him sending a cloud of white steam around himself he was thankful the days work was done.

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The Gnawing Crown
« Reply #5 on: September 20, 2016, 08:28:49 AM »
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"The flames fell forward, blackness, a flash of red and sparks and his mouth opened, broken teeth screaming against the copper electric taste against his tongue, warm and slimy almost pushing into his throat, the salt of the fluid drowning him sizzling and burnt against the exposed nerves of his shattered teeth. His heavy arms swung upwards, flinging back and forth swimming against the pulling viscous nature of the liquid, he screamed out noise muffled by the maroon until his head broke the surface, a shrill shriek echoing about the primordial cavern, his hands clawed at the dirt and he pulled himself up, his body scraping against the edge of the pool, the blood ran from his grimy body back into the red of the pool.

His curled up, knees pressed to his chest, shivering with fear and cold, he pressed his cracked lips and broken teeth to the scratched skin of his knees. A warm bronze skinned womans hand slunk across his dripping shoulder, sliding down his chest with her sharp black talons, dark lips moved against the nape of his neck, slicking black drying blood away and bumped across his hirsute jaw, warm flesh pressed against his ear, her mouth opened wide. The roof shook with the mind rending roars that echoed from her maw. He flinched and fell to the floor, his broken split fingers clawed at the stone floor to flee, his body moved across the ground like a broken doll.

His face brushed across her small feet as he crawled blind, the crimson cracking blood blinking from his eyes, he searched upwards across her nude form, long straight black hair flanking her face like velvet curtains as long slender arms reached forward, offering forth a crown, beige and shining, built high in tiny towers, a crown of human teeth. It pressed against the now bare skin of his scalp, the sharp edges of his teeth digging into the skin of his head. He began to scream"


He awoke with a sharp gasp, the dreams once more. He pushed himself up from the bed and moved to the mirror of the inn room, he examined his face in the mirror, broad and flat, hairy with a few nicks and scars, he pulled on his cheek stretching out his face curiously, his teeth were okay thank the gods. He brushed off the burns on his chest and arms, a terrible idea it turned out to be, it had simply made the dreams worse. Never mind that anyhow, a normal life.

He pushed out the door of his room as he pulled on his shirt and jerkin, he moved down stairs giving a short and close hello to a pretty girl with close cropped hair and a bright face. He dined amid a quiet inn room, enjoying his oat porridge amongst the others rising for the day, he thought on a gift for the pretty raven headed girl he had been seeing, and on the small orders for his smithing, but it was difficult to shake the dream from the dark places of his mind.

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Instinctis Beastialis
« Reply #6 on: September 21, 2016, 08:10:54 AM »
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"A deer shrieked out a shrill bray of terror and pain as the crackling orange flames licked away its skin and flesh, it tried to flee, its legs becoming skeletal and black bounding against the sparkling pyre of ancient wood. Like a terrible ancient ritual lengths of dangling antlers rested above the wild animal but despite its movements it went no where, simply immolating in its invisible prison till the searching tongue of the fire had seared away all but the neck and head of the creature.

The flames died as quickly as they had begun, dropping from a raging inferno, to a cold long dead fire pit, the skeleton crumbled into ancient charcoal spraying out in a black cloud around the tortured beast. The deer head hit the ground with a wet squelch sitting, almost perfectly preserved upon the circle of ash and ruin.

The shivering naked human form of Vargas, covered in burns, filth and blood skittered across the ancient stonework of the cave to the deer and grasped its head in his hands, he was hungry, so hungry and even the lolling tongue in the animals mouth looked appetizing in his starvation, and the dead, glassy eyes proved no deterrent, his eager mouth moved towards it, shattered broken teeth seeking the soft felt fur. . .

"Daed ydaerla era uoy gnihton era uoy Sagrav." Words escaped the deers head and its milky dead eyes spun to look upon his face, the opalescent spider-webbing across them making its gaze move through him. "What? You are dead" His only response. "Eciuj niarb ruoy fo peed knird ot seye ruoy ecreip ,uoy dnif lliw stoor." He exploded with terror and rage, slamming the head upon the stone with a crunching splat, its left eye fell free, tumbling down its felt snout. "How dare you talk about her like that! You're not even -alive-!" The deers response was similarly deep and sonorous, tongue swelling against its teeth with age and decay, "Sniev ruoy ni sredips eht ecneh ,nam fo etats larutan eht si yportne." Vargas kicked the head with a sharp swinging movement. Sending the goats head spiraling towards the wall, cracking it open, its curdled brains splattering upon the obsidian black stone. The brains began to wiggle, twisting and turning, maggots instead. "SagraV yrros m'i."

His busted bleeding fingers scooped up the maggots and pressed them into his mouth, filling with saliva, the wriggling grubs bursting in his mouth as the broken jagged bleeding teeth mashed down""

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Bleed
« Reply #7 on: September 25, 2016, 05:42:14 PM »
He slid from his bed, leaving the warmth of the hay stuffed mattress and the nude figure beside him, small but deeply warm. He padded his barefeet across the wooden floor into the washroom. His hands plunged into a nearby bucket of water and flicked it up onto his face, he washed away the sleep from his eyes and the grit from his mouth, he tried to recall what his dreams were, why they were so startling. He let the water trickle from his face as he stared about the dark room slack jawed for a moment as the sound of birds heralded the dawn, he chose to return to his slumber and lumbered back to his room, he pulled himself into his bed as his partner flinched and curled up.

A roar peeled out amid the cave, he had awoken amongst the ageless stone and broken meteoric skies, he limped forward, feet dragging against ashen piles of charcoal, blood streaming in trickles from the corners of his toenails, leaving streaking crimson lines upon the floor. He stumbled as he reached the mouth of the cave, his head dropping low and his hair spilling across his face and vision. He closed his eyes for a moment as a rough skinned hand brushed over his shoulder, clamping down in an instant, a painful clasp. With a whip and a snap he was yanked back and came face to face, with himself.

The doppelganger roared, a massive inhuman, bestial roar split his ears, teeth morphing into razor points as spittle and grit few from his maw into the face of Vargas. In a strange moment, he was gone. The mans tired burning eyes moved about he cave searching for what he had just saw, his heart pounding madly within his chest he breathed out hot damp air across his cracking lips, a response came, a gentle, almost timid womans voice, "Vargas. . ."

It was her, lithe but shapely, short but her presence was immense, with slick fine black hair that hung down to the floor, her body, nude but clean other then her feet stained black by the ash of the cave, her face was beautiful, a small button nose and pouty dark lips, he eyes were small tilted, angular, she was Mulani, and despite her appearance, almost cute, sensual, she carried a severe presence about herself. She knelt down to take his face in gentle hands, cool skin against his heat ravaged skin. "Are you scared?" She asked win her gentle sing song voice. He nodded his response unsure of his own actions, and thoughts, when she spoke it blew warm air across his face. "Are you scared?"  . . . "Are-you scared?"  . . . "Areyouscared?" . . .

Her form flickered into nonexistence, and he reached out with his burnt fingers for the woman, and as the digits passed through the space she once possessed, instead a being larger then he by a great deal replaced her space, its hand grasped down on his throat, it was so strong he felt like he was made of paper in its hand, it lifted him, its short nails raking at his skin tearing open his flesh, dark crimson welling out. The beasts chest rose and fall rapidly, the massive muscle covered in burns and scars and it was the last thing he saw as it smashed him against the stone wall behind him, he awoke the sound of crunching bone still ringing in his head.


He sat up again and the woman beside him flinched again, shuffling away from him as he panted out the terror of the dream, he had suffered pain before, even terrible physical pain. But that was not what had shaken him so deeply, the beast was wearing his face.

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A broken maw
« Reply #8 on: September 29, 2016, 04:51:26 AM »
His eyes opened, pained and blinded, his hands felt heavy as did his feet, his fingers tried to move but they only found resistance. He searched around the empty cave, looking for what horror was in store now, and found his extremities molded into the ancient stonework, pinning him splayed out across the once cool minerals. He tried to call out, but weeks, years, decades alone in this cave without water had parched him to the point of cracking throat. Birds came, seeing an easy meal and their taloned feet clacked against the black rock, for a moment he believed them to be ravens, a closer look however proved this to be false, they had no eyes and their beaks were covered in a translucent rug of glass spines.

They sought out the fleshy parts of his naked body, pecking at his skin, the spines of glass seared like magnesium fire and he screamed, noise breaking free of his desert dry throat, causing the birds to flutter away, blind heads searching for safety, before they fluttered away in true terror in a cloud of feathers. He closed his eyes. When he opened them she stood above him. Her beautiful face was blank of emotion or thought, pouty dark lips lay only in a line of apathetic disconcern, and full black on black almond eyes gazed implacably down at his. Her lips clung to each other for a moment as her mouth opened to speak and all around him came the gentle raking sob of a woman, her voice choked by tears. "Vargas. . . Va-a-argas. . ." There was a heaving sob of utter anguish as the stone-faced woman closed her mouth, cutting the cry off into silence. Her lithe copper skinned form lowered down onto him to press herself almost lovingly against him and as her lips gently touched against his and pulled away the soft voice escaped for the stone for the last time, "please. . . help me. . ." from the stones.

He awoke in a cold sweat, but this was not new, simply how his mornings began now, his bed however was empty, his body was racked with nightterrors and it was no long a wise idea to have anyone near by. He ate a short breakfast of oats and milk, the grey skies above seemingly infecting the world below them with their brand of desaturated blandness. A crunch came from his jaw as he chewed on the oats and he opened his maw to let one of his teeth to roll free from his jaw into his bowl with a plop, staining the milk and oats red.

He spent his day mining, digging the ore out of the earth with his pick, gruelling work but it was his work, something he had find that he was good at, and as day turned to night he returned the loads of unprocessed copper back to the smithy where he spent hours smelting down the raw ore into ingots, it was satisfying work, the gleaming bars of metal stacked gently beside the smelter. Yet this was no where near as the satisfaction brought by creating an instrument of death from the metal, he spent the twilight hours of the night slaving over the anvil, however as the last blade twisted into a jagged pointed shape, he felt a snap in his wrist and the hammer he used fell from slack fingers, clanking to the stone floor as his shoulders began to pull tight, crushing against their own bones. He cried out in pain and fell to one knee, drawing looks from other craftsmen near by, he pushed himself up, eyes searching the stunned faces as he dashed outside into the cool night air and the speckling rain. He crashed into a pile of refuse, bile pushing itself up past his throat into the garbage as he fell into a stunned sleep.

He was so weak now, and he had become deeply afraid, afraid of himself, the other him, the giant, roaring beast that lived in this cave, she loved him, and him, but she would let him hunt him until he was dead by his hand, there was only one result, he had to die, and leave behind his life, whatever life that was. He stood upon shaking filthy legs, his bare feet padded to the darkest depths of the cave, his hands reaching blindly for whatever was in the shadows, he found something soft, and small, shivering and cold, his hand seized its neck, it flailed and tugged but he crushed down with a powerful grasp. The cave came into stark vision as he swung himself against the stone wall in front of him, he awoke, the sound of crunching bone still ringing in his head

He awoke however, to feel the destruction of his body, his form twisted and broken, his teeth bleeding and his burns splitting. . .
« Last Edit: October 07, 2016, 10:53:49 PM by Cursed Ink »

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Raining Blood
« Reply #9 on: October 11, 2016, 10:20:05 PM »
Quote from:

He wrenched free the axe with a wet crunch from his opponents chest cavity, a loud snarl came roaring from his mouth hidden beneath the helm, smoke leaking from the gaps in the metal. Warriors clad in their protective leathers and furs took a half step back from the enraged being, trepidation growing at the sound of the snarl, one found his courage and drew his short blades, rushing the mutant with a cry in his native tongue, it was cut short in a wet gurgle as his throat was removed from his body by the dull edge of the executioners act. His fellows fled in a rustle of feet and shouts.

The warrior let his axe droop and his back arch back into his hunchbacked state, a wretched thing he was becoming, twisted and horrid, the changes had come quickly, painfully and rapid tearing apart his humanoid form as they shot through him like a wave. He lumbered towards his camp on heavy footsteps, sinking lightly into the soft peat ground, he headed towards his camp, flicking the gore free from his weapon onto the pliable ground.

Some time later he reached his camp, he shuffled aside his heavy blankets and nudged the nude dozing figures over on to each other, and he clambered into his sleeping nest. Blood still dotting his skin, he splayed out among the warmth of the sleeping nook. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, sinking into an inky oblivion.

"He awoke, in a dusty chapel dark alien stone reminiscent of the cave crafted into vaulted ceilings hung with the webs of long dead spiders. Lurking in the ancient wooden ranks stood a choir, clad in their dusty black robes, hoods obscuring their faces in shadow, though through the black they were clearly humans, young, old, male, female. They sung out in unison as he entered the chapel, "HE HAS COME!"

Spoiler: show

At the alter stood a beautiful mulan woman, her swath of obsidian black hair trailed to her bare feet and she turned, repeating in her oil slick voice "He has come" her face remained a stoic mask, she tilted her head, solid black on black eyes searching over his face as her dark lips moved to speak, "Why are you here?" He answered in a monotone. "I am always here." The choirs heads dipped in unison at his answer and the tiny woman lifted her arm to motion to a statue looming behind him, armored, a sword thrust forward into the chapel, her face blank and featureless. "Who is she?" The Dark Lady asked of him, her voice was close and the sensation of her standing almost too close to his back washed over him.

"She is you. . "

His words hung in the air for a moment as the statement became a question.

"Impossible, I am Dead" She responded in her own flat monotone.

"SHE IS DEAD" The Choir reaffirmed as a group.

"You cannot be dead"

"I am Dead" She responded in her own flat monotone.

"SHE IS DEAD" The Choir reaffirmed as a group.

"I am Dead" She affirmed in now in a growing shriek, her beautiful face begining to twist in rage, her voice becoming deep and ragged.

"SHE IS DEAD" The Choir reaffirmed as a group.

What will you do? What will you do now that I am dead!?" Her hands clawed at his arms, grasping his flesh with a wide eyed frenzy. He seized her hair in a bundled grasp and snarled down at her, his words spitting out through sharpened teeth. "I will usurp, I will create, I will usurp you! I WILL CREATE YOU!""
« Last Edit: October 11, 2016, 10:25:26 PM by Cursed Ink »

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Burzum Calls
« Reply #10 on: April 19, 2017, 10:35:44 PM »
"Do not worry Vargas, you're alright, I have seen these changes before, others like you, children of children of dragons. I know it hurts, but its natural, it will come right in time." She spoke with almost arrogant confidence s she moved his arm up and down in her hands, observing his scales as they bent and clipped against each other.
"Thank you. . ."

She redressed his swollen arms, the splitting skin and pitted scales had startled him, as had the slow lengthening of his limbs, a tall man already it did provide some concern. Much like the waves of electricity and pain running from his brain and spine, like someone badgered him with a needle on and off through out his day, making his movements jerky, and his demeanor irritable. Her diagnosis soothed him, less so however on their next visit together.




"Well. . This is new" She laughed off her uncomfortable aura as she lifted his fore arm to turn it over, a more difficult task then last time, fingers tracing the change in his muscle development, the vascular system pulsing through his skin half hidden, half protected by the almost entirely grown scales. "How. . . how long did you say its been since the ritual? . . You shouldn't - You're - already. . . well developed."
"Two months, Doctor. . ."

She slowly backed away from his form resting on the creaking chair, the bandages had come away, since his last visit his spine had arched as the spasms and tics had grown worse, almost alongside the expansion of the mans body. Her eyes were alight with concern at the strange development. Never before had she seen it develop like this.




"I'm not sure I can help you any more mister Vargas. . ." She peered down at the creature that sclathed itself across the chair, the massive chirurgeons chair looked almost comically small beneath him, the metal joints that allowed it to move groaned and creaked with each shift of his body. She shook her head, her face sweaty and pale, keeping her distance hands pressed to her chest in an unconscious choice to protect herself.

"Why?" His response was simple but blunt, a single eye webbed over with gold stared over at the woman, he reeked of smoke. A crispy tinge to the antiseptic air.

"I don't know what to do here. Ive never seen it progress how it has, not this quickly, not this much. I think, I dont think you need me. . . anymore."

"Of course I do Doctor"





"No, please, I don't know! I dont- They're wings! I don't know if they're vestigial usually they're not, they're functional but with you I do-not-know. I've never seen this sort of. . development, in one like you." The confidence from days past was long gone, stress dripped from each word as she ran her fingers over the humps and lumps that had grown into a hunch upon his back, avoiding the armor plating scales and bruising from fresh swollen muscle.

"What of, the rest?" His voice rumbled out lower, he had taken to hunching on the floor, his person was too heavy now to rest upon the chair and he had attempted some sort of courtesy to the doctor. He moved his tongue across his dry cracking lips as the diminutive figure prodded at the painful growths, he followed his words with a question left unanswered. "Will this stop, Doctor?"





"I need you to leave Mister Vargas." The doctor stated in a barely controlled shrill voice, pointing to the door he had just unfolded through, her blood stained hand shaking with trepidation. "I see. . The change, the tail and-" She pointed again firmly with a lip quiver, her nerve breaking. "I can't I dont know what you are but youre not right, so just leave! LEAVE!"

He did, without a word he ducked beneath the framing of the door out into the darkness of the night, lumbering away without a word, only his thoughts to himself


 

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Re: Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook
« Reply #11 on: May 16, 2017, 10:56:06 PM »
"What the hell is tha'" The boulder of a dwarf motioned with his axe towards the twisted giant, the red form of the hulking figure flinched twisting, a spindly boney protrusion had snaked free from his back, scarlet was staining his already crimson robe, he turned from the party, trying to mask his form as another poked its way free from the fabric.

The elven priestess dipped her head to stare intently at him as he smeared fresh blood against the stone wall, her sing song words slipped out with some pleasant confusion. "Are those wings?" She was correct, the spindly bone unfolded, clear translucent membranes spread between the lengths of ivory, the giant nodded with shock and exhaustion at the sudden tearing and pain that had erupted across his musculature He reassured the expedition of his ability to continue and they did.



Wrenching the axe free from the last Salamander, he wiped his face clean of the sizzling smokey blood. He panted madly sucking in breath as the others looted the dead, picking clean the shining spoils of war. He lifted his hand and croaked out his need for rest, the growth, the battle, the pain had sapped his strength and energy, he had to sleep, sleep was all that mattered.

Vargas found a small copse of trees not far from the smouldering grove of the Salamanders, smokey filled with rotting leaf litter that poisoned the air, he dug into the earth and curled into a ball, letting the earth and rot cover him, bathing him in dark and silence. . .


She sat upon the throne of femurs, her naked slender form observing the shattered human. His brown hair splattered with his own blood, he coughed as the thick fluid of his lifes blood began to fill his lungs. She rose from the chair and padded almost silently across the primodeal stone towards his broken body, her solid black eyes moving across the ancient cave to the hulking beast stared towards the searing white light of the caves mouth. Her long fingers trailed up the humans stomach gently, her legs lowered her down to press her lips to his ear, her hot breath swept across his feverishly chilled skin and her voice dribbled out.

"You did well to bring him into the world. But now it is time to sleep Rook, sleep forever." It was not the endless roar of dragons that escaped her mouth, not unstoppable fire, it was a comforting enticing voice drawing him deeper into the blackness of emptiness "Let him become you, become us, become the world" Everything had become more lucid then it had ever been, the Cave-At-The-Begining-Of-Time was in stark vision as his life faded away.


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Re: Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook
« Reply #12 on: May 26, 2017, 05:29:36 PM »
He looked upon her little features, pure and clear through a haze at the mouth of the cave, reaching out with that same gaze. The sickly skeletal man reached out to her in desperation , splitting fingers clasping at smoke and ghosts, parched lips signalling his dehydration, signalling his end, left to the elements within the primordial cave;

Outside, the beast fed, the beast grew.

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Re: Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook
« Reply #13 on: June 07, 2017, 03:09:16 AM »




THE MIST BRINGS CENTER. BRINGS CALM.

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Re: Carving a Giant - Vargas Rook
« Reply #14 on: June 16, 2017, 09:04:53 PM »


RAVENOUS