Thread: Destiny
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Unread 9th of February, 2009, 22:16
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Sucka of da Java [GM]

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Back in Triboar - Part 2

Back in Triboar 2

Mirko walks out of the room still tightening his belt and securing his weapon about it, nods to Dreys and says, “Lets go talk to Shirl and Graham before we jump, someone get our horses ready.”
As they leave the brothel, Mirko moves at a hurried pace. “We need to find out the circumstances behind all this before we head off, even though it means Raynal has a longer head start.”

Dreys nods in agreement and then points up ahead as they walk out into the street. Shirl and Graham are coming to toward them, heavy woolen cloaks wrapped around them to protect them against the early morning chill.
Shirl looks like she’s been through hell and lived to tell about it. Her face is bruised and one eye is blackened; there are thin white scars on her cheeks and chin too, but these have almost healed thanks to Graham.
Mirko sighs and then jumps right to the issue.
“Did he say anything about where he was going?”
Shirl sniffs and wipes the fresh tears from her eyes. “Not much. He was yelling about how unfair his life was and that he was going to make people pay for ruining it. I tried to console him, but he wouldn’t hear it. When I grabbed his arm to try and stop him from leaving, he…he began hitting me and…he wouldn’t stop…he just kept hit…” her voice breaks and she puts a hand over her mouth and turns her face away.
Dreys grinds his teeth and turns away from her too, leaving Graham and Mirko looking at each other, unsure what to say.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” Mirko manages to say.
But then Shirl turns back to face him and the barbarian almost flinches at the fire in her eyes.
“You bet your ass we’ll find him,” she growls, hurt seemingly replaced by anger. “I was a prisoner on that damned island for longer than I care to remember. By the grace of Mielikki I endured the abuse and humiliation from those faithless pricks and I swore that no MAN would ever treat me like that again. And by the gods none shall…and get away with it!”
She huffs and draws in ragged gulps of air, her breath steaming in the morning chill. “He’s changed,” she murmurs, looking at Mirko. “All of us have changed, haven’t we?”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >

What is happening to me!
The thought echoes around his skull sounding like dice upon a table. Holding his breath like he's bet his life on a game of chance Almego tries to shut the sound out by holding his head, but to no avail. In fact it is the only thing he can hear for what seems like eternity as the echoes boom around his head. He tries to think out his dilemma like he's done thousands of times before save for the distraction of his mind's mad repetitive chant...
What is happening to me?! What is happening to me?! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME??!!
And then Alison is there, grabbing him, shaking him out of his thoughts. If not for Alison's presence Almego may have sat in that position, hands covering his face and curling into a slight fetal position, till world's end - forgotten and mad. Lucky for him though, someone in this blasted world cares about him - someone hasn’t forgotten him.
"Almego! Almego... Look at me!" Alison screams at the young sorcerer while gripping his shoulders painfully. Her nails dig into the silky fabric of his black cloak and he is momentarily mindful of its contrasting feel - the smooth iciness of his cloak and the hot sharp stab of her finger-nails.
What is happening to me! His mind shouts again, defiantly yet with a desperate tone.
Warm blood leaks from the puncture of Alison's nails that are piercing his clammy flesh as she shakes him vigorously. Her deep blue eyes draw his gaze to her and he has a different thought shoot through his consciousness, She wants the Hand of Time!
Of course she wants it! They all want it!
Cackles the shadow within. Are you just going to let her take it?

A burning sensation comes from his chest where his Lion's Heart Amulet lies, but Almego ignores it as he awakes from the mad litany of his mind and jerks himself roughly from Alison's grip. He recoils and his hunter/killer instincts almost kick in entirely before he catches himself. Her eyes though find his again and he stops.
She's not going for the Hand of Time, she's just trying to help me...
The shadow within screams in frustration and Almego winces at the mental pain.

He looks down at his hands - the drow's Wand of Lloth is in one hand pointed at her and in his other hand is the drow's Mithril Rapier. Shocked and appalled he drops them both to the ground and sits back down upon his bed. Finally he speaks, "I'm sorry Alison. I t-think I need he...."
You fucking weak piece of dogshit! Comes a thought that he can't distinguish between his own and the shadow within him.
Another fit of bloody cough wracks through him though and he is left with no choice. Wiping the blood from his mouth when his cough subsides he says to Alison, "I need help. Get Graham and them for me please."

“I’ll be right back,” she says, kissing him on his fevered forehead before bolting through the door.

The shadow chuckles and Almego puts his shaking hands over his head in an attempt to drown out the pain.
First Stephen, then Raynal, and now this little bitch love slave of yours.
“Shut…up,” he growls.
All of them have betrayed you. All of them hate you!
“Shut…the fuck up!” he yells
And all of them will die because of you.
Almego sucks in air to scream at the shadow but instead is wracked with a bloody cough and doubles over in his bed…hoping to die himself.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >

“All of us have changed…”
The words hit home to the barbarian who knows the truth of them all too well. Nothing has been the same since the day his clan exiled him. And yet as he has grown into a man, he has constantly been changing. From a simple hunter, to a raging barbarian, to a figure of legend, to a pawn of the gods…will it ever stop?
“Yes, and we are still changing, Shirl. We always will be.”
Mirko doesn’t know where that thought came from, but it somehow eases his mind a bit…until he sees Alison running up the street toward them.
“Almego…something is wrong with him…he’s coughing up blood.”
“Take me to him!” Graham urges and she grabs his arm and runs away.
“The whole damn world’s gone crazy!” Dreys grumbles, and hurries along after them. Mirko and Shirl follow and hope they don’t find another crazed man bent on killing them all.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >

A few minutes later, Graham is sitting beside Almego with a cool hand on his sweating forehead and a grim look on his face.
“You have been infected…with mummy rot.”
Graham makes the proclamation as if announcing the weather, just matter-of-fact with no pretense. “And you’re going to die if you’re not cured…and quick!”
“Can you help him?” Alison asks, holding one of Almego’s hands.
Graham sighs and shakes his head. “The disease is in an advanced state and it is beyond me to cure it completely. I have slowed it down a bit, but he needs a high priest for this.”
“Where can we find one?” Alison asks. “We have coin. We’ll pay for the healing.”
Graham is shaking his head when he hears Dreys gasp and Mirko cuss and all heads turn toward the door…where a huge white tiger is striding in!
Mirko jerks the Burning Blade off his hip and Dreys backs away, but the tiger just sits down and…yawns.
And then in walks a half-elven woman, beautiful and tall. She pulls her dark brown hair out of her eyes and smiles as she looks at Mirko and Dreys. “Don’t worry about Samson, he’s still half asleep. I came because the goddess sent a message to my dreams. May I?”
Graham nods and Alison looks back and forth at everyone until Mirko finds his voice and says, “This is Amra Clearwater…our guide since arriving in the North.”
Amra moves to the bed and feels Almego’s face and hands and lays her head upon his chest. Alison draws back a bit, wrinkling her nose at the mingled smell of cloves and the odor of wet tiger that has assailed upon the room and that comes from this woman as well.
Samson sprawls out on the floor near Dreys, who is trying to find a way to get around the big cat, and closes its eyes.
And then Amra begins to sing…softly chanting…as a greenish glow emanate from her body. She rises up and hovers her face so close to Almego’s that she is almost touching him, in fact, it appears as if she is about to kiss him.
But their lips never meet. Instead, the green glow seeps from her mouth and flows into his, moving down his throat and into his lungs, driving the disease from his body.
Almego sighs deeply, his breath easing with every second, color returning to his face, warmth to his limbs.
Amra sits up and looks at Alison who has tears running down her face. “He will rest for awhile, but he will be fine. The goddess has healed him.”
“T-thank you,” Alison manages to say, her lips quivering with emotion and she hugs Almego.
As she does, the tiny ivory statue rolls out of her cloak and into her lap…and Amra recoils as if slapped in the face.
Samson immediately comes awake and stands up and Amra backs away, her hand pointing at the statue.
“What…is…that?” she says, fear and surprise filling her voice.
“It is the Statue of Kane,” Alison replies coolly. “And it belongs to me.”
Amra swallows hard and looks first at Mirko and then at Dreys…waiting for someone to say something.