You have been taken by the Mists

Author Topic: Silverhaired Twins  (Read 643 times)

pretty

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Silverhaired Twins
« on: November 01, 2020, 08:13:13 AM »



Cut. Slash. Another wound teared into the wold. But second bit her leg. Third jumped over shield, biting her pretty face. The wounded one grabbed hand with sword into maw...and tugged her down by pull. The more she moved, the more bites received. Until pain prevented her to move any more. Just laying there, helpless, watching her twin-sister suffering same fate.



The werewolf tripped over the twin. Blind with rage, and hopeless one, she gathered all forced and hit the beast from behind with her pommel. At first, the monstrum seemed to ignore it. Then it turnt, and claw nearly stunned paladin. She collapsed to the ground, holding ugly wound on neck.


One of their group left behind. There was only thing to do. She leaped into the entrance of sewers. Leant down, and healed the bleeding friend. "Run!" shouted, and being herself assaulted by powerful wererat, she dived in the opposite direction. Far. far away from others. Better her than others. And she trusts them. She knows they will do their best....when deeply in sewers, she turned to face the monstrum. It jumped over her, pretty elf disappearing under it, striked down.



The star elf opened eyes. Flashs of recent events were gone. She pulled out small silver mirror, eying herself within it. All recent scars gone, healed by divine magic. Her face as pretty as before. But she did not recognize the person in mirror. Was it still her? The young one, dreaming how with her twin will face Nilshai and save their homeland?
 The dreams shattered to the core. Their group hunting rats for skins, and wolves. Hunted in turn. How could they them be facing Nilshais? Only here she realised, their home is dieing. And they would never change the odds of their kin. Eyes fell onto sleeping sister in the bed. Her sister still in that naive belief one person can change a world. Lips of elf formed a smile. She will leave her in that belief.
  She lowered eyes to her armour. Insignia of their home plane still proudly displayed, though the plate multiple times bent, and fixed. Uniform of Sildeyuir now representing her the people instead. All raur-tel-quessir and all other kinds of elves, she never met or heard before.

 So tired, she did not even bother with setting weapon belt aside. Simple walked over to the bed and dropped herself into it. Hands reached over, grabbing her twin, cuddling to her. She felt so silly now. They were doing that as children only. 
 "Hey..you stink worse than wet dog!" sounded loud protest.

Despite exhaustion, falling asleep was not easy. Where they find proper armours? Better weapons? When will she be able to duel that death knight, and destroy it? Will Freejadour Nightstar lead their group to the demise or victory? She fell sleeping with full trust in him and his brother.


                                               Follow me through the night
                                                          We are sisters of the light
                                                                We are laughter in the wind
                                                                      Follow me through the night
                                                                                 We are sisters of the light
                                                                                       We are true, we are free
                                                                                             Through the darkness follow me!

                                                                                                                                       I am here to break the silence and
                                                                                                                                 I want you to be the voice of mine
                                                                                                              You alone, you can let time stand still and
                                                                                                                      You create the missing element

                                            We're the fires of Righteous
                                                     We're the deep rough sea
                                                               We're the stormy air
                                                                     

                                              And we are oathed warriors
                                                    Through the darkness, sister,
                                                                 Follow me!

pretty

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Re: Silverhaired Twins
« Reply #1 on: November 04, 2020, 09:28:39 PM »

Not too happy about the  expedition was she. And even less in terms of profit. A grim recognition of overextending their strength. "You know how it ended each time we left so late in the day, do you?" Presqirelle stated when the group began to organise for another trip. The memories of her laying in a shallow water, just nose above waterline, while twenty werewolves patrolled around, and pretending dead one for over seven hours of clean time, were too fresh.
"When we have not a plan that would work?" asked Sabas. Sarcasm in voice. But no one otherwise replied, and thus the paladin followed along.
 
The battle with horde of undead was so easy. Divine blade cutting them and burning the rotting flesh out.  It took mere four hours to clear the tomb. On the way back, the priest stopped in a chamber. "There were some notes, i want to makes copies," and as they entered in, Presqirelle remained to guard the door. Irida meanwhile scouted to the exit.

Suddenly light steps sounded the hall. Irida running back. "Werewolf! Run! Hide!" Star elf darted into the chamber. "Werewolves!" Instead of getting alerted, everyone began to question her! "Where? What werewolf!" "Werewolves! Hide!" growled at them and all ducked behind pillars, hiding. Sabas has hidden behind them. With torch in hand! "Put that torch away idiot!" she whimpered at the man.

They should have waited, divided, and hidden. She learnt to wait! But no, they had to try to run out! Playing with invisibility, which turned out fruitless. They were like prey who comes out from the hole. She lost track of others but Freyjadour. Both bursted out of the tomb and large beast set to pursuit. Without any source of light, the night was so dark, she could not see for a step. Even with Freyjadour delaying the chaser, she just run into a rock and nearly tripped. When the large thing towered over her, her last thoughts were about satisfaction of Freyjadour's escape.







She found herself resurrected in damp, dark cave. Tied up. She overheard moaning and voice she would know. Irida. Eyes looked around, worried for others. But no one else from their group. But the man already stood over her. "Do you want her to live?" he asked. "Yes," the elf replied. "I did not allow you to speak! Grunt once if yes, twice if not!" Her mind still dizzy, unsure of what is going on, the paladin grunts once.
  Then man lowered down, and began to cut her wrist! Her body arched in pain. She remained wordless. She knew what will follow. Suddenly, all worries and fear have gone from her. If you know the end, you can spend last moments of life scared....or embrace the pain. When he walked off over to Irida, her eyes just stared at the missing wrist. blood spilling around. Shock paralysed her for a time, and it would take a long time, to realise what has happened.

 As the mind cleared out slowly, she figured out their situation. No, she wasn't filled with fear and terror. But the awareness of how helpless is, burnt her inside. She watched and listened, how he mutilated Irida. Then he again turned to her. "Do you want that man to live?" he asked. The elf already understood the wicked game. There was no escape. They would keep mutilating them, until they bleed out or are killed in the end.
"I don't believe you would let him go alive and unharmed. I will not play your wicked game along," she simple replied. She felt growing exhaustion from the wound. She was about to die. When the man walked again towards her, she already readied a last prayer to the Corellon in her mind.
"Hold her head," words reached her ears when the man removed her tongue. Body twisted in pain, but she withheld the scream, and most likely could not even do, with missing tongue. Mouth filled with blood.
 This was the time how you face the death. She raised her eyes, proudly. Glaring at the man. No anger inside, just pride and pity, pity over low beast that will never reach her level. After he walked away, her life had been already escaping the body.
 "Take her eyes." he commanded the werewolf.


Woman pulled cloak over herself, while trying to sleep in chair. Eyes observing mutilated Irida. Her memories kept returning to the sight of own severed wrist, and it made her each time to fight own stomach. One vomitting had been more than enough.  Every single time they think they begin to handle the things, something screws up. First her sister half eaten by orcs. Then this. She wondered what was wrong with her. When Eliniel has gone trough these things, she nearly broke, no she broke. It took a lot for her to regain confidence. Eyes of star elf roamed over the room and stopped at Freyjadour, who was deeply in trance of meditation. The more people around suffer, the less she is able to show compassion. The more her resolve grows. Each wound and scar, each disaster on her friends, just made her go on harder and harder. Like the suffering would be fulfilling her determination. And star elf began to question, if that is natural. Where others often broken down, she would just step forward, gripping sword tighter.
  "Far Star," sounded her in ears when she remembered, how their priest called her. And then it reached her, like a heavy rock falling onto head. She closed eyes to prevent it, but could not. Tears were running down across her face. Her feelings and temper remained still and unchanged. But silent tears were unstoppable.

And the determination, burning like an eternal flame. She will...smite them....all. And time plays no role, for an elf. She felt no hate, She desired to, she desired to go all out in anger and pursuit. But presence of the divine powers she has posses, felt like soothing touch.



« Last Edit: November 04, 2020, 09:33:41 PM by pretty »

pretty

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Re: Silverhaired Twins
« Reply #2 on: November 16, 2020, 09:53:14 AM »

Shield by shield, she stood by side of her twin-sister. Together and with their companions, they managed to overcome anything. Or so she thought.

Presqirelle once said, her sister would cry if passing a stepped on flower. And she feared, her attitude will put them on the downside of the hill soon. And she wasn't wrong.

The feelings it is going to end badly, began the very moment Eliniel stopped by the road to observe the garda's doing. Presqirelle told to Lindar, that troubles begin, and urged him to go. He told her, they will wait. When Garda began to flog a random man they picked yesterday, both observed Eliniel from distance.
"It is a matter of time," thought Presqirelle. And indeed, she was correct.
 Soon her sister began to interfere. They moved closer to prevent it, but of them, Presqirelle and Lindar alike, knew she won't listen in arrogance to anyone of them.

 Situation escalated fast. Her sister drew sword and refused to put it away."Sheath the sword!" repeated Presqirelle in growing desperation, and Lindar begged her to do the same. Totally out of place, Eliniel began to talk of elven gods...as if that would matter, in Barovia, where even farmers hate elves.

 Guards drew weapons and fight opened. Presqirelle stepped aside. The decision she made, hurt her. But this fight was not hers. It was not fight of their god. It was not fight to help to anyone, but pride of Eliniel. It was outcome of pure arrogance and ignorance. She watched her fight with six guards, downing few of them. Desperation raced inside. The more guards she would put down the worse negotiation for her body or life after.

But poor Lindar could not just stand idle. He tried to hasten and invis Eliniel. Ridiculous, why you trigger fight and then run? But garda hopped onto bard, hacking on him from all sides.
 The twin drew her sword. Her standing aside ceased to matter. Eliniel now has drawn into the shit also Nightstar brothers. "I hate you sister," muttered aloud, when joining the fray. She downed one guard chasing Eliniel and turned to chase people chasing Lindar. It forced the paladin to face off Radu, heavily wounding him. But the guards were simple too many.

......


Unknown elf managed to save them all. And now, their group found itself inside damp dark cavern. All hours long, since being saved, Presqirelle did not smile or laugh. She ceased to talk to her sister, and refused to be warded by her magic. Eliniel on the other hand, was simple going as always. She showed no regrets. Despite carelessly getting others killed for her pride and arrogance, she acted like nothing would happen at all.
 But her twin could not forgive that. Presqirelle became determined to make her responsible, to feel consequences of own acting.

She did ask her priest to trial own sister. Torn asunder but the pride and arrogance had to be punished and fixed. And she would carry the burden of her sister being punished.
 But things are never as Presqirelle would hope for. As soon as others arrived, they were angered. Freyjadour listened to them and his decision devastated his beloved. He will help to Eliniel, until she is safe, and then they paths will part. She lost his trust. Presqirelle listened to the exchange, dark and sad expression on her face. Others fully supported that decision. Irida called out the acting prideful and arrogant and refused to stand side by side with Eliniel as well. Sabas called Eliniel adopted. Twin stood there, and just listened. When Irida turned to her for confirmation, she managed few words or a mere nod. Her eyes took in unhappy face of Lindar, who just nodded at the shared truth.

This was not what Presqirelle desired nor was it her doing. Friends judged her sister on her own actions and made decision. Not a single word could be disputed. She turned and sit down, facing away from others. Head onto her knees. Unable to cry, feeling growing emptiness inside. Twin meant always part of her soul, or she felt it that way, regardless of Eliniel disputing it, laughing at it. And now, that part felt empty after betrayal. Yes, betrayal, as if to bear blade means responsibility and her sister gave it all away. When the wolves cut off her wrist, tongue, and ripped her eyes out, it was nothing compared to this.