A great fire danced on logs of wood, stuffed in an expensive-looking fireplace. Long shades slowly moved along the walls as a man walked before him. The hall was wide, almost entirely covered in shadows, except for the space before the fireplace, which had a warm, auburn tone.
The light glinted on the razor-sharp blade of a curved dagger. Nothing but a shadow moved on the dark surface, slowly slipping closer to the fire on the wooden planks, supporting the ceiling. It was dark, as silent as whispering breeze, and even the sharp eyes of a hawk would have difficulties noticing the pair of azure eyes, shining in the dark like flames.
It could have been just a breeze, flowing through one of the open windows. It could have been just a spark of fire, jumping off the logs. It could have been anything, if something - the noble lord before the fireplace didn't hear a thing, anyway.
Athran, entirely covered in soft black clothes, landed right in one of the shadows. Not a bit of him could be seen, except for his eyes and a small part of face around them. His steps on the stone tiles were soft and silent. This was going to be another perfectly performed task... And a lot of heavy, tingling coins in his wallet. There was only one thing needed.
The head.
If he gets the head, he will be paid in gold. Real gold. And he was going to make sure it will rain.
"Sir, this is not a place you can openly visit, ple-AGGGGHHH!" The flash of purple light was blinding, and for a second, the smell of singed guard filled the air. Another sickening crunch later, and Corey was storming through the gates of the nobleman's house on a personal vendetta, murdering guard after guard who dared confront him.
He got to the top floor of the house, where Athran entered. Corey would have been visible entering the master study just as Athran landed.
"Ah! Sir, this is private property, please leave!" The nobleman exclaimed rather fearfully.
"No." Corey grabbed the man by the throat, snarling.
"You. Die." Corey pinned the man correctly, and forcefully kicked his legs, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone breaking. Then he proceeded to break the man's arms, letting him scream in agony.
Propping him up on the windowsill, Corey prepared a ball of energy, which crackled and hummed with dark energy.
"Nazgbak." The ball unleashed a powerful beam of energy, which blew most of the wall out, and vaporised the man Corey had been abusing.
Athran's jaw under the black scarf dropped. Someone just stormed in and turned his victim to ash... HE NEEDED THE HEAD!
The fire in his eyes appeared bloodthirsty and fierce as he slowly walked to the mage. He was but a tall shadow in the night, but the dagger in his hand was dangerously sharp, as sharp as a razor. The other one of his hands arose to the mage's throat from the back, and grabbed it with an iron grip.
"Who do you think you are and what do you think you are doing?" he hissed. This man - scrawny child - just spoiled a whole big business for him. Simply ran in and disintegrated the man... Well, if he couldn't get the noble's head, he could at least get this one's.
The blade of the dagger slipped to the mage's throat, right under his chin.
"Great. Another person here to kill. Let me go, and I will let you live, my business is not with you." Corey began speaking a spell in his mind, the concentration significantly more difficult than saying it out loud.
Between Corey's hands, another ball of energy formed, growing in size, brightness and volume as it built up power, preparing to unleash the beam through both men, and vaporise them both instantly.
"I'm here dealing with some business that needed taking care of. It needn't concern you."
"It was my business just as well." Athran whispered, slowly raising the pressure at the dagger's poisoned blade. "And there's a simple rule about my business: you mess with it, you die."
"If you can, by any means, restore the body - dead, off course - I'll take the head and leave you alone. However, if you have no such possibility, I will take your head instead. After all, there's a same skull inside..." His lips twisted into a smirk as he spoke.
All empty words had no other purpose than to give him enough time to concentrate. It would now only take him a single moment to let everything in this room go up in flames... It will burn like a torch if he doesn't get that head.
"And there's a simple rule about me. I'd rather not fight you. I'm not interested. You had all day to kill him. I didn't. I needed closure on this matter. And I got it. Now let me go." The ball reached full capacity, and Corey shifted his arms so that his hands left a space facing the two of them that meant they would be vaporised by the beam being stored in there.
"Now, I've just charged the most destructive spell I have, and have it aimed at the both of us. Release me, and I will dissipate it. Do not, and I blast us both to oblivion. You're not of his guards, that's clear, so I will let you live." Corey reasoned perfectly soundly with Athran. His logic was sound, his reasoning was valid.
"And do not. Get in. My way. Again. I have a personal problem to resolve with every living noble in Connlaoth, not one lone assassin." Corey snarled, making a point that it was very personal.
"You are right... There's no point in fighting me. Try to move, and you are poisoned - and will die in the next twelve hours. I don't usually kill without reason, but I do make exceptions... Now, if you can in no means restore the man's head, pay me in gold. Or with your head. It is only your decision..." He didn't care what were the man's reasons. All he wanted was his dirty money.
Besides, if this was the way he made business with nobles, he'd be soon without any work, and any income. It would be better to set this brat on fire and cut his head off...
He's done nothing.
Yet.
Nothing to me.
Except for causing me to lose an important business. What am I supposed to live off, thin air?
It's still a child, though...
Child, not child, it doesn't matter. He did it. And I don't like it.
While holding a personal argument with himself, he carefully watched over Corey. His bright eyes were blazing with hungry flames, and he felt his blood boiling in his veins. He was prepared to set the whole room - but mainly himself and the mage - on fire, and let it all burn in flames, while he walks out. There was no flame that could burn him...
"I am waiting. You got in my way first. What gets in the way of Him Who Brings the Night, dies in terrible pain, you know?" His voice was silent and deathly cold, but had a hint of amusement in it... As if it was fun for him to play this game of a cat and mouse.
"You think I have gold? I don't need gold. Revenge is it's own reward. And before you say, I've dug the second grave. Just waiting for the right time to fill it." Corey snarled, his true motives coming through.
"Let me go. I have some very personal business to deal with. If they killed someone you loved, wouldn't you kill them for free?" Corey hadn't actually mentioned he was just here for blood. He had just dropped adequate amounts of hints. Corey pointed the beam at the floor, and unleashed the full blast.
"Nazgbak." The beam erupted into full width, tearing through the floor, with Corey falling straight down.
It was burning. It was burning hotter than the biggest fire he ever got to... The black robes that covered his actual clothes simply burned to ash, leaving but a few singed scraps. The leather beneath, along with his hair and skin, was heated, but not actually burned as much as he felt it.
The explosion threw Athran away and tossed him into one of the walls in a blinding flash. His back hit the stone and he rolled onto the ground, confused, but still conscious. He slowly raised himself to his elbows and shook the ash off his head. His eyes were burning with bright, hungry flames, outlined by dark kohl that made them seem even more vicious.
"You made... A huge mistake..." he whispered.
Flames of unnatural azure arose from the broken remains of what was once an exquisite hall. They reached after Corey, and Athran's lips twisted into a maddened grin. "And you'll regret it. I'll make you regret it."
Corey had landed roughly, breaking a table, and getting shards of wood in his arm. He winced as they all came out, and shadows wrapped around his arm, forming a bandage. He stood, and saw the flames beginning to rise.
"Fine. Let's see who's the better magician." Corey launched a load of dark orbs at the flames, launching a second wave at Athran, the orbs scattered like ball bearings from a shotgun,
Then straight after, Corey began the three second charge to achieve the beam.
Athran unsheathed the couple of scimitars on his back, but before he reached Corey, he was thrown against the wall in a blinding flash once again. This explosion seemed even bigger than the previous...
Several cracks, running like a spider's web, appeared on the stone behind him. He felt something cracking, and let out a silent groan as he came to realize it was one of his bones. His hand let go of one of the scimitars, unable to clench around the hilt in pain, and shortly after, he collapsed onto the ground.
Still awake... Still perceiving everything around. That was the only good thing he could think of.
He felt something warm on his face... Blood.
So it came to blood already. He was ready to stand up, when he got a better idea. All he needed was to get Corey to come closer... Play dead.
Corey huffed, and turned to walk away, unimpressed with how easy it had been. He kept the shadow beam ready, before turning again, and approaching Athran.
He walked to stand over Athran.
"Pathetic. I suppose you know what comes next." Corey smiled psychotically, the beam humming louder and louder.
"Nazg..."
Athran collected all his strength to leap into the air as Corey approached him. He jumped onto him and pinned him onto the ground, showing him the same mad grin, just this time outlined with blood.
"Yes, I do know. A dead mage and blood upon these walls, am I not right?" he asked. His hand with the remaining scimitar arose...
...and sunk towards Corey's throat.
The sound of metal upon metal rung through the air, and within seconds Athran had ten swords to his throat, while Corey had two mordecai restraining him.
The guards were responding to the first explosion, and obviously felt brave enough to face the two men.
As more guards poured in, Corey gave up resisting them, and instead let them bind and gag him.
They moved to bind and gag Athran as well, the ruins of the house surrounded by a huge guard force of around 30-40 guards.
Athran, too confused to resist, just stared. He didn't know what happened. All was going so well... He was winning...
They handled his body roughly as they tied his hands and feet together, but he simply dropped down, and didn't do anything to stop it.
What just happened? The Mordecai... How did they even find them? How did they get into here? And what will they do with him? If they find out about everything he's been doing in Connlaoth, he is in his grave by the next sunrise.
He closed his eyes. If he'll play it right, he will live.
The two men were thrown into the back of a wagon, with a mordecai sat at the front of the cart, steering the horses. They were cancelling Corey's magic, but the gag was removed, on both men, leaving them free to talk.
"Well, that was rather short lived. They must have reacted to me blowing that wall of the house out."
"Just don't tell anything about any of us, alright? I'll be silent about everything, but if you screw it up, we... We'll be dead." Athran muttered. He coiled up on the ground, pressing his arms and knees onto his chest.
"And I believe you don't want that..."
"I won't make any promises. I have a suspicion we're both going to the mage camps. As in, right now." Corey sighed, relaxing along the seating structure.
"The nearest one is a six hour horse ride. Get some sleep."
"Do I look like a person who sleeps often?" Athran growled. He couldn't sleep, no matter how much he would try. "If I get to sleep for an hour at night, I consider myself lucky."
He carefully checked the interior of the carriage with his eyes, and sighed. They were surely going towards the mage camps.
"Well bloody try, cause once you get there, you won't sleep at all." Corey rolled over onto his side, and closed his eyes.
"Wake me up when we're nearly there..."
"I won't make any promises." Athran growled back, repeating Corey's words.
He didn't need to sleep... If he could get out of those handcuffs, he could slip out of the carriage unnoticed. Even in a hurt state it shouldn't be a problem... He twisted his hands in the bonds, and tried to get his slim wrists out.
It couldn't be that difficult...
Corey took a minute to fall asleep, but he managed it.
He woke up to the sound of a guard hitting the side of the carriage, signalling them to wake.
"Oooh, what's going on now?"
"Damn the gods..." Athran muttered. He just managed to loosen them and slip his right hand out of the threads, when the carriage stopped. They couldn't possibly be there yet. But if they stopped... He could escape.
The carriage opened, and guards swarmed in, checking their bonds and re-gagging Corey.
Then they marched the two men outside, where a soldier camp lay, with 70-80 soldiers all conducting duties in this camp.
Corey wasn't going to try his luck.
A captain came over and examined Corey and Athran, deciding that their fate did indeed lie in the mage camps.
And so, the guards began to shove Corey and Athran back into the carriage.
Athran didn't resist this time, neither. His hand appeared in the threads again, and he pretended to be still tied up. However, in the moment when the doors of the carriage closed again, both of his hands dropped the threads. He untied himself in a speed that didn't seem natural, and carefully stood up, covering in the shadows.
If he could get out through the back door, he'd be free, and on his way back to Adela...
The Black Sword wasn't going to get into the mage camps. He gripped the edges of the door, and begun to draw them open.
Corey went to go back to sleep, but heard the sound of Athran pulling the door.
"Hey?! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Saving my neck," Athran whispered, and opened the door wide. It was only one leap into the darkness for him to escape...
What neither had realised was that after being thrown in the carriage, the driver had joined a convoy of carriages, and as Athran opened the door, a guard on the carriage behind shouted, and the convoy stopped instantly.
Shouts of panic and disruption resounded, and Corey found himself well and truly stuck, unable to move.
Then he decided he really didn't like this Athran guy.
"He's trying to escape! Get him!"
A mordecai pressed a hand onto Athran's mouth. They weren't going to let him escape that easily... Now he was hold not by one, but right three, in one of the carriages, tied and secured against anything.
He was better off before... He didn't try to move, only stared at the faces of the men that held him, a thousand different emotions mirroring in his eyes. Now was not the time to fight...
Corey had the crossbows of two marksmen pointed at him while the mordecai sorted out Athran. Corey felt something in the air, heavy, chilling and terrifying.
It was the presence of power, death, and the undead. The chilling creep of sealed fates everywhere. It scared him.
The guards were too focused on Corey and Athran to notice the skull that seemed to be floating on the wall opposite the door of the carriage.
The door of the carriage didn't even open... Suddenly, Athran felt how the mordecai, one by one, let go off him. They dropped onto the floor as if they were unconscious... So suddenly.
A shadow appeared on the ground. "Hello, pointy-ears."
Ryuch's tall, bent figure appeared in the door, slipping right through the wood. His crooked wings disappeared like smoke, but his claw-like hands were still crossed on his chest. The death god grinned, revealing his razor-sharp teeth.
"Long time no see."
One of the mordecai managed to resist the magic of Ryuch, clearly something supernatural, and as the undercover demon burst into flames, Xerordir leapt from the shadows, the silent reaper, catching the demon in the chest with his scythe, and imprisoning it inside.
"Nice to meet you Athran. Corey, long time no see." Xerordir's voice emanated from the skeleton, which warped to be fully robed and have the wings.
"Nice to see you too Xerordir. Thanks for the save."
Ryuch's black lips twisted into an even wider grin. "Xerordir. Heh, heh, what a nice meeting." he cackled. His hands grabbed Athran's shoulders. "And you, Athran? Trouble again?"
Athran frowned. "Thanks for saving my neck - again - but you're pretty much stating the obvious." he muttered. The death god only squatted next to him and tilted his head aside, staring right at his face. "And no, I don't have anything for you..." he added.
Ryuch sighed and turned his attention to Corey. A mortal... He didn't appear to have much time left. And he was still young. "Corey." he muttered.
Athran only coiled up on the ground. Having to put up with one death god was not a problem, but two and that mage were too much for him in this state. He wanted to get lost... If Ryuch could use those wings to actually carry something with him, they could escape easily. At last, he greeted Xerordir. "It's a pleasure. One of Ryuch's kind? Death god?" he questioned him.
"No my dear boy, a reaper, a collector of those whose times on this earth have finished. I decided where you go, what afterlife you deserve. I'm lucky in that there are no rules saying I can't intervene. You couldn't help to be a bit nicer, and kill a little less. Probably starting now. You're not up for a good afterlife at this rate." Xerordir's voice sounded foreboding and forewarning, his rather sinister look giving the message an overall ominous feel.
Then he turned to Corey.
"You already know bloody well that there's debate about you." Corey's predicament wasn't his fault, and some of the reapers were declaring him insane through desperation, while other believed he was doing nothing wrong, while other believed he should be punished.
Athran shook his head with a smirk. "The hell itself's not bad enough for the Black Sword. I'll be leaving with Ryuch once I die..." he admitted, joking on the first sight, but in reality, he was deadly serious. The death god beside him nodded. "Exactly. Here Daineth won't be leaving for any normal afterlife... What he's been doing is... Defying the laws by which mortals are judged. He'll go to the realm of the Death gods."
Ryuch shrugged. "I didn't make the decision, but he knows how's it going to be. If you kill several, maybe fifty, you go to hell. If you kill fifty thousands, the hell would freeze with your damn cold soul." Athran sighed. "Ryuch, you don't have to repeat this to everyone!" he hissed. The black eyes of the death god pierced him like a spear. "In the end, you might be afraid..." he muttered.
"Well Ryuch, the underworld gods won't like the special treatment. You'll get some problems with them. I'm the middle man. I don't care, I just collect. And I know underworlds where there are the souls of men who have killed millions single handed. Underworlds for demons and monsters. If there is a problem, he will have to be voided of whatever treatment he's getting, and go to Nel:kra'voy:nem. You do not want to go there. Buddy boy here, who decided he was immortal, is going there. I've been hunting him for days. Finally got him." Xerordir's eyes glowed bright.
"No-one should fear death. Death should be welcomed. Those who fear death, fear their afterlife. Of course, only when the time is right, should one be content with even death. To want to die young is stupid. If it happens, I come and collect, yes, but I take no pleasure in it." Xerordir could feel Ryuch's power.
"It has not been my decision. However, Athran is beyond the laws by which ordinary mortals abide, and it was judgement from above for him to accompany me... It is, indeed, worse than hell to abide in the barren realms of the death gods." Ryuch replied, crossing his arms on his knees.
Athran nodded. He already knew all of this... Once he died, he couldn't be treated as living again. "I don't fear death. I have welcomed it once before." he whispered.
"Well, I'll always take you to a better afterlife, whether you've never died, or it's become something boringly regular. Just prove to me you deserve it, and you'll go to whoever will take you." Xerordir's job was to offer that choice, and he would argue the merits and rules with Ryuch another day.
"What do you see for Corey, Ryuch?"
"I don't mind going with Ryuch," Athran admitted. "At least I know him. I'd have to follow him for a thousand years... And then become something like him." He shrugged. Ryuch nodded once more, shaking the spikes of his black hair. "He screwed up on a big scale. This here," he grabbed Athran's shoulder, "is beyond salvation, I fear."
"However, you are very nice to offer something like that... What do I see, you ask?" The death god peered at the mage. "Corey Treyburn. He doesn't have much time here left." he uttered, and scratched his head. He couldn't see anything more.
"Then my prediction was correct. Corey, are you sure that is the only way you see things ending?" Xerordir turned to Corey, unable to stop the boy if he was destined to kill himself once he had avenged his one love.
"I'm on a path of revenge. Two graves must be dug and filled."
Ryuch shrugged. "Off course, this can be affected. Lifespans are not definitive... But I don't know any death god that would sacrifice himself for a human's life." he replied. "And revenge is a complicated matter. Isn't it?" he asked, turning towards Athran.
The elf nodded. "Don't let it drive you into madness." he muttered.
"Well, I tried Corey. On numerous occasions. I'll try and ensure your death takes you to a good afterlife." Xerordir sighed, before taking a step forward.
"I'm afraid duty calls Ryuch, and I must heed it's call. I bid farewell to you all! Goodnight!" Xerordir left, leaving Corey to stand awkwardly in front of Ryuch and Athran.
((OOC: PS, you called him Ryuk in that last post xD))
"Well, see you another time, then." Ryuch's hand with long, claw-like fingers waved Xerordir goodbye, and his glinting black eyes turned first to Corey, then to Athran, with an untold question.
"So, where are we heading to?" he asked, showing even a hint of amusement, and a wide grin on his lips revealed his sharp teeth. Athran sighed and smacked his head.
"Uh, just back to Uthlyn area please..." Corey asked sheepishly, looking around to see if there were any escapes from this seeming weird death god.
Ryuch's loud cackling laughter filled the carriage. "Do I look like a designated driver?" he questioned him, tilting his head aside. Athran let out another sigh. "More like a designated scarecrow. If you'll cover me, I'll kill those that are currently in the front, take over this carriage, and make a turn back."
Nobody will take him anywhere unless he decides to. A short knife appeared in his hands, prepared to kill the couple of mordecai in the front. Ryuch shrugged. "What can I do?" he muttered.
"I have a better idea. You stop being a coward and don't run from this one. Now that I think about it, I will got to the camps. So clear out these corpses and get lost." Corey sat down, having a very sudden change of heart. If he went to the mage camps, he would be amongst his own kind. He could start the war.
"Yeah, and won't ever get out of there. I'm not mad! I want to leave this rat hole that you so proudly call a kingdom." Athran growled. "I can return through the war on the back of a beast and wreck the camps, if I'd still be in the mood to bother."
For him, Connlaoth was only a hole, forgotten by gods, and he had no reason to remain there any longer. He wanted to get out, find Maigrod, and don't come back for a few years. The only thing that he ever got here was that he got arrested.
"Then go, and take the corpses with you. I want to just go." Corey huffed, doing up his own bonds again, and lying down on the bench, using it as his bed.
"Go, before they see you."
Athran rolled his eyes over. "What would I do with corpses?" he muttered. Ryuch chuckled, but said nothing, only stood up in the shadow of the carriage, and put his hands onto the door.
"No need to kill those fools if you're staying. Farewell." he growled, and the door of the carriage opened beneath Ryuch's black claws. Athran was ready to jump out and disappear in the night.
"I'll blame the corpses on you then." Corey gave Athran one final, long glare before watching him jump into the night.
"You don't know my name..." Athran smirked, and threw himself out of the carriage. Ryuch shrugged, and his grin widened even more. "Blame the reaper. Technically, you'd be correct." he attempted to joke, and jumped out after Athran, straightening his wide wings.
Corey laid on the bench, his bonds in place again, and waited for the guards to come rushing in after seeing Athran jump out.
And then, before he knew it, he was at the camps.
Athran landed on the road, only to find himself surrounded by countless guards and mordecai. So they have already arrived...
Someone shouted, noticing his shadows, and a group of men immediately set out to run for him. This time, there was very little chance that they would let him escape. He attempted to creep away, hiding in the shadows of the carriages, but as they have already noticed him, there was no hope.
Ryuch, flying high on the sky above him, only watched as the guards tied him up once again and led him to the camp.