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Post by Loci on Apr 17, 2009 17:19:59 GMT -5
From just off the shore of Burmecia, where the water regularly ebbs and flows. In the gentle moonlight of a warm summer night just after the rains, bobbing lack-lazily on the water, is a simple little boat with a crew of two. They work by lamp-light on the deck, cleaning diving gear and checking their equipment.
Man 1: "Get a pressure reading from those tanks."
Man 2: "It's fine, stop worrying."
Man 1: "I'll stop worrying when you start doing the diving."
For the past few days, this two man crew has been searching the waters and ruins around the island that once had standing high above it the great Sanctuary of the Order. Their endeavor has proven fruitless thus far and today's diving expedition was no different. Now they must clean and prep for tomorrows attempt.
Near the end of their gear cleaning and check, something afar catches their attention. A single light shining to them from the dead shore, its strange and peculiar, like a Will'o'Wisp. It sends deep shivers down the spines of the two divers.
Man 2: "Burmecia is dead town... right?"
The first man nods, staring at the light in the distance with unflinching attention.
Man 2: "Then what is that?"
Man 1: "I dunno, a wayward traveler maybe or a trick of the eyes?"
Man 2: "Or an omen..."
Man 1: "Stop speaking nonsense, superstitious are you now?"
Man 2: "Well you come up with a better explanation then!?"
Man 1: "If I could I would..."
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Post by Loci on Apr 17, 2009 21:38:41 GMT -5
After sometime and the lingering light in the distance, the two divers decide to go and investigate, fueled by liquid courage. Taking their vessel they run her up on the shore and disembark. The coast is windy and smells faintly of salt and rain. The two, very warily, with a lantern and a blade walk up the coast and into the outskirts of the dead city. The decayed edifices loom over them like creatures watching from above, their faces long and distant, cold and malicious.
Man 2: "Man, this is bad! Bad idea!"
Man 1: "It was your idea! So shut it and keep walking."
Man 2: "I'm freaking out!"
The first man stops and hits the other up side the head. "Silence! Don't want whoever it is to hear us and run." The second man breathes in deep and exhales. "I'm good, I'm good. Let's keep walking."
The two enter the heart of the dark city and discover the source of the light. In front of them, up in a tall part of the palace is a single light emitting from a window. It's static and bright, not like that of a candle or flame.
The second man snaps and backs away. "No, no! Not doing it, I'm outa here!" He turns tail and runs, dropping the lantern as he makes a break for it back down through the stone streets.
The first man curses at him and turns back to the look at the light. He picks up the lantern and continues forward, pulling aside the broken iron gate that leads to the palace grounds where upon he finds the front doors to be blown open making the palace's front look like a black mouth with a ominous void.
"Hello!? Is anybody there!? Helllllooo?" He yells into the dark pit with no reply. He continues forward then, into the dark unknown of the ruined palace.
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Post by Loci on Apr 18, 2009 1:41:39 GMT -5
Inside the queerly lit halls, with dancing ghosts flickering in the firelight of the lantern, the first and now only man wonders through creates the sensation of a new world. This new, dark world, the very heart of darkness that maliciously plays a sickly opera around him leaves him unsettled and disturbed. Statues of a sordid nature line these hallowed halls that add to this foreign unsettling environment of decay and death, they appear to reach out from the shadow dancers.
The man shakes and quivers with each passing step, deep inside himself he feels as if the world around him is reaching out to take his life. It is too late now, as he climbs a crumbling stairs to some lofty unknown, the way back is still filled with those ghosts of perdition.
On the landing, some several floors above the first, the man comes upon a trail leading into the darkness. Tiny specks of what looks like dirt in the light, perhaps a person is indeed up here, having sought refuge from the rains and elements.
"Hello!" He calls to no answer, strange he feels, maybe the person is asleep or wounded and can't return his hail. Continuing on in this mind set, the man walks into the darkness. The light shows that the trail grows more steady and greater instead of dwindling as would be expected. Curious now, he kneels down to touch the substance, its cold but wet. He smells it, metallic and coppery. "Blood?" Perhaps, maybe the person is injured after all.
With greater pace, the man runs down the hall, following the trail into the infernal darkness.
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Post by Loci on Apr 18, 2009 19:13:40 GMT -5
The man comes to a door with a light shining through its cracks, creating a long trail into the hall. "Helllo?" He calls once again and as before, no answer to be heard. Perhaps the person is unconscious or dead, all the better to rob them, he thinks to himself. Why else go to such great lengths if not for a bit of a finders fee, it's the least he could demand. He pushes his arm against the door and it gives, opening to a room.
Entering the room he finds that most of its walls have collapsed, exposing it to the outside and the floor breaks off into a sharp edge just opposite the door. There's nothing here, except a single high-back chair and a light rain. He raises his lantern to the chair and sees an arm resting there.
"Hello? Sir? Sir? Are you hurt? I saw a light from the water..." He says as he approaches. "And-" The man drops his lantern and gun and lets out a blood curdling scream as he sees who sits at the chair, his scarred colleague who ran. Now he sits with his head in his lap and stomach eviscerated. The head's dead eyes stair up at him, a look of surprise and sudden fright before being cut down. Just long enough he must of saw his murderer to leave him in the state of deathly shock frozen on his face.
The man back backs away, unable to breath or think till he backs into a something. It's tall and not a wall and hovers over him like a towering beast. Shaking, frozen, his heart pounding he stands lifeless. He's sure he can feel the creatures breath washing over him, it smells foul of death and blood. He feels the creature shift, is head leaning down to meet level with his own. "Grave robber..." It says in a hiss.
The man wants to let out a yell, loud enough for the heaven's to hear but can't. His voice abandons him, all he can do is shake. He eyes look to the left, there, in the corner of his vision is the outline of a muzzle and a dim of yellow eyes.
"Watch where you step."
Suddenly, the man feels the floor below give way, crumble under his weight. He reaches out to grab ahold of nothing as his legs give out under him and he falls and falls.
With a crack and snap, he strikes the stone courtyard below. His body broken and growing cold, he stares transfixed up from where he fell and watching him are those yellow eyes, staring out from the blackness of the night.
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Post by Loci on Apr 19, 2009 2:56:33 GMT -5
The yell of the one man tumbling to his demise shoots over the still, wet night like a gun-shot and it attracts the attention of his cowardly comrade who had made a quick beeline for the shore. The scream forces him to stop short, skidding to a halt as he sheepishly looks back. It's dark, no sign of the light they once saw, but the overwhelming sense that something isn't right overcomes him. Was it his friend? He had no way to be sure, but what stirred in his gut told him it was. Maybe he had run afoul of something horrid? No, that's impossible, what could exist here but a few spiders and wild beasts, hardly anything that could stand up against a grown man.
He's injured, that must be it. He hurt himself, the clumsy fool. Walking off into that dark decayed building, what did he expect? He rationalizes. Can't leave him here, he knows how to operate the boat. Why must he make me go back there? Perhaps he's trying to get the better of me, oh if that is the case, then he'll surely be surprised. I'll play and get the better of him.
The man turns back around, back tracking through the cold, lonely wet streets of the ghost town. A new confidence brewing inside him, smug that he'll show his associate that he is not the crowd after all.
After several minutes of walking, he comes upon the palace once more. "Hey! I'm back, quit your whining and trickery. Enough games!" There's no answer. "Ok," He laughs. "All a big funny, now come out." Again, no reply. This starts to worry the man, it's not like his associate to keep up a charade this long when called out on it. "Hey...? You alright man!?" Skittishly now, he enters through the gate. The darkness of the night and lack of lantern makes it difficult to see where he steps and without a light source he avoids going through the large open doors. Walking around the courtyard to the a side spot, he stops and calls out once more. "Alright! You got me, just knock this off." Once again there comes no reply. His heart is now starting to race, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea to return after all. He quickly looks around, up, down, left and right. "Not funny man. Knock it off? Man!?" Nothing.
In his frantic search, he spots a lump of something a few feet in front of him and with growing terror and anxiety, runs over to the object. "Oh gods." He mutters as he happens upon the broken body of his friend, the corpses face is twisted into a hideous state of fright and the sight makes the others stomach wrench and loose its contents onto the stone ground.
As he recovers, his head looks skyward, up the palace walls to a spot several stories high. There, two yellow eyes watch him, unblinking. He freezes, his legs refusing to move while his brain tell him to run. He wishes to scream yet not sound can leave his throat.
The eyes stay there for a few more moments, then suddenly vanish and when they do, the man's legs return to him and he bolts for the main gate. Behind him, he feels as if the eyes are chasing him every step, just out of arms length. He charges through the streets in terror, everywhere he looks he sees those eyes staring out at him, from the empty windows, to the dark alleys. No where is safe from the prying, yellow eyes. There, up ahead is the sounds of the shoreline and the relative safety of the boat. On the beach now he comes to the spot where they brought their vessel ashore, yet no vessel, the tide has carried it off.
He lets out a audible curse as those eyes appear again, this time in the sea water, just below the surface. He gasps and turns quickly, running back to the city, but falls short and trips onto the blade of a rusty sword, left protruding through the back of a ancient fallen Burmecian knight, now just a skeleton. His eyes are wide with pain as he gasps for air, trying to swallow it with large mouth fulls. He grabs the blade, trying to pull himself away but it is stuck tight into his sternum and his strength is quickly washing away.
He feels a heavy weight push on his back, like someones foot trying to push him to the ground. Inch by inch, he pushed further down the blade and there staring into his eyes, from the hallowed out skull of the dead knight are those yellow eyes staring back until finally his heart is pierced and the darkness creeps in.
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