Advertise/Affiliate Other Forum Main Page The World Before You Play

To Kill a Mage (Minfeveer)

Started by HighLordMhoram, July 30, 2017, 04:54:26 AM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

HighLordMhoram

"Conjuring flames from nothing is a pretty good parlor trick," Graven countered. "You may not have had formal training, but I'd be willing to bet you've got plenty of experience with using your magic. Self-taught, like me." The compliment would hopefully flatter her (and hopefully it wouldn't be too obvious that he was trying to do so), and would also open up the conversation for her to ask about his magic if she wished. Maybe if she got to learn how he did what he did, she wouldn't believe the stories about him. Then again, maybe it wouldn't make a difference. The meal was almost over already, and the others were beginning to file out of the room. Only Orson and one other remained, flanking the door and keeping an eye on the two mages, though from far enough away that they couldn't hear the conversation unless they began shouting.

Minfever

Fawn glanced about the room and found that most of the men had gone, save for two.  She hoped she wouldn't alarm the two guards, Orson and the other man, by getting up, but she rose from the table and slipped over to the chair next to Graven.

"We don't need to be so formal." she said, and lifted her hand to the water cup that Graven had been using.

She dipped her forefinger in the remaining liquid and ice crystals began to form over the top, then through another layer and another.  Once it was frozen entirely, she pulled her finger back and smiled.

"If you could show me what you do...  I would be forever in your debt.  If I could learn to broaden my skill..." she stopped.

For years and years she had been alone, herself.  An assassin, a whore, a thief...  People like her didn't get to make friends, let alone acquire any formal training for themselves.  She knew how to do little things here and there, but to project her fire outward or to not only change the direction of the wind but the weather...  These were things she had only hoped to do one day.  This was her chance to learn something more about her innate abilities.

"Would you be willing to share what you know with me?"

HighLordMhoram

Graven hid it well, but he was both immensely and slightly uncomfortable when she came to sit beside him. Seeing her turn the remainder of his water into ice was another shock, but once he was thankfully prepared for. "Well, I guess I'll have to get a new cup," he said, setting it down.

At her request, he paused to think. After a moment, he said, "I'm not sure there's much I can teach you. From what I've seen of your magic so far, it seems to be external. That is, you manipulate the world around you. My magic, animancy I call it, is very different. I manipulate the life energy found in all living things." He drew his dagger, not to threaten her, but simply to demonstrate. "You see, I can't even do most of my magic without a long, straight piece of metal to conduct the energy. I can do some basic healing on my own, but with this dagger I can do so much more."

"I can draw the life energy out of other living things, and bring it into myself. It extends my lifespan, and does a few other useful things. If it's a strong or magically talented person, I get a lot more energy." He smiled grimly. "That's where the rumors about me stealing souls comes from. If such a thing as a soul exists, I've never been able to find it, but I suppose draining a person of their life energy amounts to a similar thing. I can also gift this energy to others. That's what Orson and the rest are." He indicated his guards by the door. "They aren't zombies. I give them a new life, with no memory of their old one, and let them choose what to do. They can stay with me, or leave to live on their own back in Connlaoth. Most of them choose to stay with me."

"So you see, I doubt I could show you much about magic. Unless you have some kind of internal magic that affects yourself that you haven't shown me." Graven kicked himself mentally as he spoke. He was supposed to try and convince her to stay, not give her reasons to leave! She would probably be terrified by what his powers could do, or worried that he would try to drain her. He was a fool to think anyone would accept what he was.

Minfever

He was starting to relax a little bit with her, though, for him relaxed was something entirely different.  To get him to trust her even more than he did now, she needed to dig deeply into his insecurities and show him that she wasn't afraid.  Which, for now, she wasn't.

Fawn listened as he spoke about his magical abilities and how he could utilize the life force of one person to animate a dead corpse.  It made sense, why he hid and why people hated him so much.  Connlaoth was fearful of magic, and had she revealed her ability to use magic to her advantage they would have killed her rather than hired her.  The unspeakable things he did needed to be answered for, but she was beginning to feel as though there was more to the story than what she had been told by the few fanatics who had hoped to have her kill him.  She never made a kill without knowing it was the right thing to do.  The morality of this particular situation was starting to blend together making it hard to see the right choice.

"Well, you have a focus." she pointed to the blade, pressing her fingertip to it and drawing a drop of blood.

She touched her fingertip to her tongue and sucked on it for a minute, then continued, "Your blade is your focus for the magics that you perform.  Perhaps, that's what I need."

Though she had grown up uneducated, she had taken it upon herself to learn to read and from then on, to read every book she could get her hands on.  Some of the books were instructions on how to learn to use magic, however, most of those were for people who weren't naturally gifted for it.  She had found that very little of what she read helped increase her abilities, but some of it did take, allowing her to do the things that she was able to this day.

"I don't know.  Maybe I'm just making things up." she laughed a little, "I don't really know what I'm talking about."

HighLordMhoram

Graven was somewhat startled when Fawn pricked her finger on his dagger, sending a tiny thrill through his body as he absorbed a tiny bit of life energy. "Careful," he warned, wiping her blood from the blade on his trouser leg. "This thing's dangerous in my hands." He sheathed the dagger and thought for a moment.

"You might be right about needing focus," he said finally. "It's a good idea. But you would need to forge your own. I made this dagger after years of practice, learning how to attune it so it resonated perfectly with my power. I believe I could teach you how to forge a focus, but you'd need to make it yourself." He had no idea whether that was actually true, but it seemed reasonable, and it would get Fawn to stay for at least a little while. "Of course, you'd have to consign to live with a bunch of savage cave men for a long time. Maybe you'd rather just move on."

Minfever

She had to admit, when she had pricked her finger a surge of energy seemed to be sucked from her, like a backward breath.  He was more dangerous than she thought, having assumed that his weapon wouldn't work without his consent, but it seemed the focus was forever linked to him and his necromancy.  It was an extension of him now.

What he said seemed to make sense, even if she wasn't sure herself if it was true.  Fashioning a focus would bide her time while she plotted her next moves, and might even prove fruitful in aiding her magical powers.

She laughed at his comment about himself and his men.  Fawn's eyes twinkled and she fought the urge to take one of his hands in hers.

"It so happens I need a place to land while I'm here.  I don't know how long I can stay but I would be happy to oblige your invitation."

She turned in her chair and yawned heavily, stretching her arms above her and then glancing back at Graven, "You wouldn't happen to have extra accommodations for me to sleep in would you?  Although, I wouldn't be averse to spending the night with the men."

She realized what her comment sounded like and quickly corrected herself, "They don't seem like a threat to me, is what I mean."

Her cheeks reddened a bit as she realized her faux pas.

HighLordMhoram

Graven felt the corners of his mouth tug upward in a small smile as Fawn laughed. She had a lovely laugh, clear and bright. Stretching her arms above her head also resulted in her accidentally--or perhaps purposefully--thrusting her chest towards him slightly, the fabrics stretching around her breasts. That, combined with her comment about not minding spending the night with his men, made him laugh in turn.

"I understand what you meant," he said, still chuckling slightly. "But don't worry. Everyone has their own private rooms here. And besides, the people I resurrect don't really have a sex drive once they come back. Hell, they hardly even need sleep." He could invite her back to his room, but it seemed a bit hasty to ask a woman to bed when he had known her for only a few short hours. So instead, he motioned to Orson and said, "Please escort the young lady back to her room, if you will. I'm going to grab some shut-eye myself." Orson nodded, and Graven stood up to go.

Minfever

It was hard for her to tell, now, if she was losing her charm on him or if he was just very good at hiding his feelings.  Perhaps, all of these years with the once-dead had helped him to grow callous toward natural human needs and desires.  Nevertheless, she was going to win him as a friend if nothing else.  Tomorrow would bring a new day and new opportunities.

She stood and gently took Graven's hand within her own to catch him before he left, "Graven...  I know you didn't have to invite me to stay... Thank you."

She reached up and gently placed a kiss at his cheek, careful not to startle him.  She then allowed their hands to part slowly, and she began to follow one of the men to her chambers.

HighLordMhoram

Desire flooded Graven's body as she grasped his hand and kissed his cheek. He hadn't been kissed in over forty years. He had certainly never expected anyone to treat him this way again. He had thought he would live his entire life feared and shunned by everyone he met. In fact, the reason he hadn't proposed that Fawn come to his bed was because he was afraid she would refuse out of fear or, worse, accept because she was afraid of what he would do if she refused. But now she had shown that he didn't frighten her, and that she desired him. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm gently as she passed, keeping her from leaving for a moment.

"Of course, if you...that is, would you prefer to, perhaps, share my room for the night?" The words were awkward, fumbling, and although he kept his expression neutral, Graven could feel the heat flooding his cheeks. Gods, what was he doing, stammering like a nervous young man would to his first lover? The fact that some of his men were there to see it only compounded the embarrassment. But he still held on, looking at Fawn intently, waiting for her response.

Minfever

Quote from: HighLordMhoram on August 01, 2017, 06:16:17 PM
Desire flooded Graven's body as she grasped his hand and kissed his cheek. He hadn't been kissed in over forty years. He had certainly never expected anyone to treat him this way again. He had thought he would live his entire life feared and shunned by everyone he met. In fact, the reason he hadn't proposed that Fawn come to his bed was because he was afraid she would refuse out of fear or, worse, accept because she was afraid of what he would do if she refused. But now she had shown that he didn't frighten her, and that she desired him. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm gently as she passed, keeping her from leaving for a moment.

"Of course, if you...that is, would you prefer to, perhaps, share my room for the night?" The words were awkward, fumbling, and although he kept his expression neutral, Graven could feel the heat flooding his cheeks. Gods, what was he doing, stammering like a nervous young man would to his first lover? The fact that some of his men were there to see it only compounded the embarrassment. But he still held on, looking at Fawn intently, waiting for her response.


Fawn's eyes met his as he approached her, taking her arm in his warm hand.  He had such large masculine hands that her slender arm was enveloped easily.  She smiled a small bit, a knowing smile, and her eyes shown her desire for him.  So he wasn't immune to his carnal nature.  She was proud of him, in a way, for taking such a bold step in asking her to his bed.

She put her hand over his and took it, watching him from beneath long dark lashes.  She narrowed her eyes a bit to study him better, and reached the other hand to his face.

"I imagine I would be much warmer with you."

She ran the back of her fingers over his cheek and then let her hand return to her side.

"Show me where you sleep." she said gently, her voice a caress in itself.

HighLordMhoram

Graven nearly collapsed with relief at her acceptance. "As you wish, milady," he said, trying to regain some of his former sarcasm, but the desire in his voice overrode everything else. He led her from the room, passing in between the two bodyguards to get to the door. Fawn could practically feel Orson's suspicious gaze boring into the back of her neck as they made their way down the hall.

Graven's room was much more luxurious than the one Fawn had been temporarily imprisoned in. For one thing, there was an actually bed in the corner instead of a simple bedroll. How he got such a large piece of furniture into the caves was a mystery, but it looked soft and inviting after such a long day. A writing desk sat against the wall across from the bed, complete with ink and parchment, but it didn't look as though it had been in use very recently, and there even seemed to be a stone basin in the corner that served as a sink. There was also a small alcove that served as a closet, which Graven made his way over to. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his bandaged torso, heavily scarred and muscular. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said, going over to the sink and splashing some water on his face, the muscles of his back rippling as he scrubbed roughly with his hands.

Minfever

Quote from: HighLordMhoram on August 01, 2017, 07:59:26 PM
Graven nearly collapsed with relief at her acceptance. "As you wish, milady," he said, trying to regain some of his former sarcasm, but the desire in his voice overrode everything else. He led her from the room, passing in between the two bodyguards to get to the door. Fawn could practically feel Orson's suspicious gaze boring into the back of her neck as they made their way down the hall.

Graven's room was much more luxurious than the one Fawn had been temporarily imprisoned in. For one thing, there was an actually bed in the corner instead of a simple bedroll. How he got such a large piece of furniture into the caves was a mystery, but it looked soft and inviting after such a long day. A writing desk sat against the wall across from the bed, complete with ink and parchment, but it didn't look as though it had been in use very recently, and there even seemed to be a stone basin in the corner that served as a sink. There was also a small alcove that served as a closet, which Graven made his way over to. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his bandaged torso, heavily scarred and muscular. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said, going over to the sink and splashing some water on his face, the muscles of his back rippling as he scrubbed roughly with his hands.

Fawn lightly gasped as she entered the room, taking in the quaint simplicity of its decor.  She had followed him in slowly, coyly, and let her fingertips run along the edge of the desk.  A bit of dust collected at her fingertips and she ran her hands together to rid herself of it. She wondered why he didn't use his desk much, or if he ever had.  She thought that he could have written quite a story about his life... could have left something behind for the world to read once he was gone.

A part of her didn't want to think of what she had to do.  She wanted more from him, more information.  The fanatics who had created the contract for her were already wrong on so many levels, she had to make the decision based on her own understanding of him.  Tonight, he would live, and she would make sure he felt more alive than he'd felt in decades.

She watched his musculature as he washed, her cheeks reddening deeply with desire.  She ached to reach out and touch him, to instigate their love making, but instead, she left it up to him.  Fawn wanted Graven to work for what he wanted.  She wanted him to have the confidence to take her for the first time, to show her what kind of power he could hold over her.

She settled on the bed and leaned back onto her hands, watching him intently.

"You're hurt, badly." she said quietly.

HighLordMhoram

Graven shrugged off her concern, though he winced as he did so. "I'll live. Trust me, I've had far worse injuries in the past. Still, that last mordecai this morning was a tough bastard. I only beat him by luring him into range of my men's guns." He turned towards her, giving her a good view of the broad, scarred plain of his chest and abdomen. He walked up and sat beside her on the bed.

"I hope you'll forgive me if I...under-perform tonight. These injuries may not be serious, but they are something of a handicap, and I'd rather not waste the energy required to heal it. And there's also the fact that I haven't done this in over forty years." As he spoke, he reached out and caressed her cheek, savoring the smooth, flawless feeling of her skin, the warmth of her flesh beneath his cool fingertips. He hadn't touched someone like this since his exile began. "You know, I'm half worried that that mordecai ended up knocking me unconscious, and any minute now I'm going to wake up. You seem too good to be true."

Minfever

Quote from: HighLordMhoram on August 01, 2017, 08:37:20 PM
Graven shrugged off her concern, though he winced as he did so. "I'll live. Trust me, I've had far worse injuries in the past. Still, that last mordecai this morning was a tough bastard. I only beat him by luring him into range of my men's guns." He turned towards her, giving her a good view of the broad, scarred plain of his chest and abdomen. He walked up and sat beside her on the bed.

"I hope you'll forgive me if I...under-perform tonight. These injuries may not be serious, but they are something of a handicap, and I'd rather not waste the energy required to heal it. And there's also the fact that I haven't done this in over forty years." As he spoke, he reached out and caressed her cheek, savoring the smooth, flawless feeling of her skin, the warmth of her flesh beneath his cool fingertips. He hadn't touched someone like this since his exile began. "You know, I'm half worried that that mordecai ended up knocking me unconscious, and any minute now I'm going to wake up. You seem too good to be true."

His words were gentle and honest.  Fawn felt a sudden pang of guilt fill her.  What was it about him that she couldn't place?  Something in his manner, as if he'd been hurt so much that he was afraid to be himself, at least, until now.  She reached up to grasp his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips, one by one.

"It's not a performance, Graven.  It's something far more complex than that." she reminded him, and pressed her hand to his chiseled abdomen just where the bandage was, "But just to make our night that much more pleasurable..."

She began to heal him.  As she saw the bruising melt away she began to pull the bandage from his torso.  She tossed it aside.

"I'm no better than any common woman you might find." she confessed, looking down for a moment, "I'm not as good as you think, anyway."

Her thoughts went back to her days sleeping with men of far less quality for a few pittance to survive.  Her cheeks reddened at the thought.  Now, it was part of a different profession.  Yet, it was all the same to her.  She was a whore, just a higher priced whore.

She sighed, attempting to forget that which she thought about daily.

"But thank you, anyway."

HighLordMhoram

Graven's eyes widened slightly in surprise as she healed away his injuries. "It seems you were holding out on me," he said, touching his chest to find it whole and unharmed once more. "I thought you had only external magic. I suppose there's more to you than meets the eye."

At her self-deprecating words, he simply chuckled. "What, and you think I'm going to be any better? If we both go into this apologizing for not being good enough, neither of us is going to enjoy ourselves." He leaned in and kissed her, savoring the feeling of her soft lips against his. His hands were suddenly at work, clumsily unbuttoning her shirt. "To be honest," he murmured to her as he slid his hands inside her shirt, running them over her slim waist and up towards her breasts, "I haven't done this in so long, there's very little you could do that would disappoint me."

Minfever

Fawn felt a wave of goosebumps and intense heat throughout her body as he touched her skin, his cool hands quickly adapting to her warmth.  She reached up to help him with the rest of the clasps, her breasts blossoming now that the tension of the fabric was gone.

"Oh, I didn't say I wasn't good at this..." she whispered against his lips, "This, I happen to be very talented at," and she gave his bottom lip a light nip.

She helped him slip the rest of the fabric off of her shoulders, watching him unpackage her like a rare gift.  She stood in front of him and wiggled out of the rest of the dress, leaving it in a pile at her feet.  She was a sight to behold, and she knew it.  One thing she was never short of was confidence, at least, in this area of her life.

"I'll make sure you remember this night." she smiled, her eyes alight with desire, and she pushed him gently back onto the bed, crawling on top of him and letting her long raven hair fall over her shoulder.

She hovered there and pressed her lips to his gingerly with care, deepening it only to withdraw and begin kissing the edge of his jaw, the curvature of his neck, his chest, making sure every part of him received the attention she felt he deserved.

HighLordMhoram

Graven feasted his eyes on the sight of her unadorned body, roving over every inch of it. "I dare say I haven't seen anyone so beautiful in all my life," he said. "If you'll excuse my melodramatic romanticism." Then she pushed him back onto the bed, and all words left him.

He ran his hands through her silky hair as she kissed her way down his body, each place where her lips touched seemingly burning like fire. "I'd say that 'talented' is understating things a bit," he murmured, groaning with pleasure as she neared his waist. There, he stopped her for a moment, urging her to come face-to-face with him again. "Let's take this slow," he said, kissing her as he unbuttoned his pants. "I want to enjoy every minute of it." He put a hand behind her head and deepened their kiss, placing his other hand on her thigh and slowly, gently traveling up to her waist, then her breasts, his calloused fingers taking their time exploring every curve they found on the way.

(fade out now?)

Minfever

*fade out*

Time passed slowly for them, as if time was being generous enough to allow them this luxury of intimacy uninterrupted.

Fawn laid quietly on her side on top of the sheets, unabashed and satisfied.  She looked a bit like a child, her hands held together beneath her head and her knees close to her.  She watched him with candle eyes as he breathed, following the rhythm of each inhale and exhale.  Her own breathing began to match his, her heart beat beginning to follow suit.

Who was he that he so gently regarded her body yet, he could murder innocent people and talk of it as if it were part of his daily routine...  Her eyes widened for a minute as the hypocrisy of her thoughts occurred to her.  Were the people he killed really innocent?  They hunted him because he was a magic user.  In truth, he was constantly fighting for his life here.  And if that was the case, weren't they one in the same?  Wasn't she just as guilty as he for what she did?  Certainly, what she did was far worse if he was simply acting out of self-defense.  But then, why did he take the life force from people?  Why did he do it?  That was the only offense she could not forgive, unless there were more to it than what she knew.  Why resurrect the dead to invite them to live a life of emotional absence and lack of humanity, serving his purposes?

These thoughts occupied her mind as she gazed at him.  A sigh escaped her and she reached a small hand out toward him to caress the skin of his chest.

HighLordMhoram

It had the best night of Graven's life, and now he lay on his bed, fully sated for the first time in decades, with a gorgeous, intelligent woman on top of him. He felt his breathing slowly return to normal as the exhilaration of what they had just done faded. He reached up and put his hand over hers as she began to caress his chest. "Stop that," he said in a light tone. "I'm ticklish there. You'll make me laugh like a damn child." Spontaneously, he sat up a bit and kissed her again, still holding her hand. "You know, it's funny," he said. "That mordecai attack yesterday wasn't planned. They always attack on the first day of every other month, like clockwork, but this time they came less than a week after their last attack. I've never seen that before."

"But without that attack, we might never have met." He kissed down her neck, nibbling her skin gently where her neck met her shoulder. "It's almost like we were fated to come together." He chuckled. "Or maybe that's more of my romantic melodrama. Who knows?"

Before Fawn could get a chance to respond, Orson's flat voice came from just outside the door. "Master, it's time."

Graven felt a chill go down his spine. He knew what Orson meant by that. If Fawn saw what he was about to do--what he had to do to stay alive--what would she think of him? He slid out from under her abruptly and got to his feet. "Sorry," he said, avoiding her eyes as he began to get dressed. "I have something important to do. I'll be back in a short while." He buttoned up his shirt and made for the door--but not before grabbing up his knife from the desk.

Minfever

Fawn enjoyed the attention he was so willing to give.  Goosebumps followed wherever he laid his lips, where his breath passed over her skin.  She was going to reply something to the effect of liking the romantic side of him, but she never had the chance.  Orson's voice -- which was getting to be more of an annoyance all the time -- broke through and suddenly, as if it had struck a nerve, Graven became vague and a little jumpy.  She watched him don his clothing and she sat up, holding the blanket over her chest.

"What is it time for?  Where are you going?"

Her questions were lost on him as he hurried out of the room, but not before curiously grabbing his knife.

"What is he..." she stopped herself, dread filling her stomach and causing it to churn nauseatingly.

Something wasn't right.  He was hiding something from her.  She quickly slipped behind the wall that Orson was guarding so that they wouldn't be able to see her, and she allowed her form to shift into an invisible shade.  Deftly, without a sound, she followed Graven, far enough to allow room for her to dodge his men and stay out of their way as to not rouse their suspicions.

Tags: