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Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)
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<blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 2835966" data-attributes="member: 15187"><p>“A filthy barrow spawn!” the Fastendian cursed bitterly, “a dirty, evil, Geduld loving piece of scum!”. His voice cracked over the last curse and Gerard intervened before he could utter further imprecations. Fortunately, Stravarius had taken no action except for pulling the hood back over his face. He merely stood on the pier, one hand defensively placed on his sword and the other held placatingly before him. The others were still too surprised to take any action save for Moxadder who backed away from the Black Elf. </p><p></p><p>“Morgan! This is not the place to air our differences, remember our mission!” Gerard implored. The nobleman’s words registered on Morgan’s face and he nodded tersely in agreement. He stepped back and sheathed his sword though he remained tensed for action. The Fastendian glared from Stravarius back to Gerard. </p><p></p><p>“Fine. We go into town, get a room and find out precisely how it is we got saddled with this abomination”. The others were quick to accept this plan and wasted no time in putting it into action. They walked down a broad main fare peopled with townsfolk dressed a little more eccentrically than they had seen elsewhere in Guerney. The architecture was also quite distinct though it eluded their notice, distracted as they were by recent events. They had barely travelled a hundred paces before they found a suitable lodgings. The Hat and Staff provided for their needs exactly and a price for a room was swiftly negotiated. The door to their accommodation had barely been slammed shut before Morgan renewed his invective.</p><p></p><p>“One month, one Geduld cursed month we’ve been with this black hearted bastard and he never utters so much as a peep as to what he is. It’s a miracle any of us are still alive…I never did trust him, and now we have the proof!” Morgan’s blade slid out of its scabbard again to add emphases to his next words. “You people have no idea, NO IDEA of the evils performed by these twisted animals. Unless this bastard hell spawn removes himself form our company and out presence, this Hydra is about to lose a head!”</p><p></p><p>Stunned silence greeted the outburst. The only people to appear unperturbed by the intensity of Morgan’s behaviour were Kuruul, who snored peacefully in the corner and Stravarius, who stood arms folded in the centre of the room.</p><p></p><p>“Very well” said the Black Elf as he deliberately pulled back his hood once more. His hellish gaze fixed on each member of the Hydra in turn. “I’ll explain myself and prove you have nothing to fear from me, though my enemies might”, he said with a bitter smile that was a little too menacing to be reassuring. Without further preamble, he launched into his tale.</p><p></p><p>“I can’t blame you for reviling me for what I am. I know all too well how I must appear to you. Nightmare eyes, teeth like some animal, black as Geduld’s eternal night. It was not always so. Terrible things have been done to me the like of which would have robbed you of your sanity, if not your life. For you see, I was not always like this. I began life as an elf somewhere in Guerney.” Stravarius waved an arm vaguely, as though greater detail was lost to him.</p><p></p><p>“That was a long time ago, before you were born, for we do not age like you humans. One day I was out hunting with some of my friends when we were waylaid by creatures of the Dominion. They had no business being in our woods, so far removed from their own lands, but there they were. We were taken completely by surprise and were easily captured.” A look of pain distorted his face as he remembered his suffering anew. </p><p></p><p>“The following weeks passed in a haze of fear and pain as we were marched ever onwards towards their defiled lands. Ultimately we were taken below ground into a place that I can only think of as hell. We were separated, my friends and I, and I never saw them again. I can only pray that they died, though I doubt they had it that easy.”</p><p></p><p>He swallowed heavily and continued in a voice half choked with the effort to repress the force of his memories. “What they did to me then I cannot speak about in detail. I have forgotten large parts of it, and what little I remember causes me great pain and anguish.” With visible effort, Stravarius straightened himself from the half crouch he had unconsciously adopted. “The dreadful purpose of that terrible place, that barrow, is to take life and twist and torture it until it becomes a tool of the Dominion. I saw men warped into hobgoblins, and my kin degraded into beings like me. Other creatures were turned into things even more horrendous. I was burnt, beaten, rent and violated. And when they had finished with my exterior, they went to work on my mind but here I was lucky.” A harsh laugh escaped Stravarius at this point. None of the Hydra interrupted, acutely discomfited they were by the pain of their companion’s recollections. </p><p></p><p>“I say lucky, but in truth I sometimes wonder if I would be happier amongst the gleeful cruelty of my dark brothers. My demented transformation was a slow, slow process, I could not tell the time precisely, but years passed in that wretched place. One day a massive quake struck the barrow and in the confusion I managed to escape. Physically, I was utterly their creature but my mind was still largely my own. I had achieved my liberty before they succeeded in recasting my thoughts to their liking, though most memories of my former life were erased.</p><p></p><p>I fled the lands of the dominion. It was relatively easy, for I looked like one of them and they were not as well organised back then. Like a fool, I went searching for my shattered past, hiding from those who should have given me succour. I discovered that more time had passed than I had imagined. Despite our longevity two hundred years brings considerable change.” </p><p></p><p>The Black Elf’s lips began to tremble and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I never found my kin or my home. My ruined memory and the upheavals my people suffered conspired to hide them from me. Those elves I did meet would have nothing to do with me. I can’t blame them. I may not have served the dominion but my thinking had become foreign to the more civilised ways of my former people. I took to disguising myself, wandering from place to place with no thought for the future. Eventually I realised that I could either die or make the best of my miserable fate. I decided to hone my skills and plot for the day when I might strike back at those who broke me and pay them back for a small fraction of what they did to me.”</p><p></p><p>Stravarius looked at his companions with a mixture of challenge and despair. “So here I am, a member of the Hydra. Like you. I am here to serve the Baron, to improve my skill at arms and hopefully compete in the games. Just like you”, he reiterated. </p><p></p><p>He looked pointedly at Morgan. “All I ask is that you treat me the same as before. I’m the same person who fought with you against the lepers at the docks. I travelled with you every step of the way to Yorathton. When we investigated the terrible happenings of Ravenswood I was staunch. When we defeated the Blood Sails I played my part. Trust me”, he implored them. “I haven’t given you any reason to do otherwise.”</p><p></p><p>Stravarius concluded his speech by pulling his hood back over his head and resignedly awaiting their response. He felt utterly spent. Sharing his nightmare with others had not lessened its pain. The fear of rejection and the thought of an eternity spent lurking at the fringes of society unmanned him. And they might well do more than cast him out. They might kill. He considered what he would do if they turned on him. An image of a hate filled Morgan running him through set a pulse beating in his temple. With surprise he felt the fires rekindle deep within him. If they tried to kill him he would fight. He would cut, rend, scream, batter, maim, mutilate and destroy until oblivion overtook him. It was all he was good for, was all he had left.</p><p></p><p>Staring at the Black Elf, Morgan felt at a loss. All his life he had been reared on hatred of the Dominion and he had seen enough to confirm every prejudice that was his birthright as a Fastendian. Yet this abomination, so visibly, clearly, obviously evil in appearance claimed to only have benign intentions towards them. He wished with all his might that his father or brothers were here. The others were mostly Guerneyans, they could not comprehend the nature of the evil that Stravarius represented, indeed it looked as if they had been swayed by the Black Elf’s speech! He looked to Moxadder but saw only a native of Irudesh city, a sink of decadence and inactivity that easily put Halfast to shame. The man was lost entirely to the lures of devil weed and would be no help with what needed to be done. </p><p></p><p>With a start, Morgan sensed that Stravarius was tensed for action. His resolve firmed. If the others believed the word of this black tongued creature then so be it. It was time that he Morgan Martigan did what was needed on his own. He tightened his grip on his sword and was about to drawing it forth and attack the black skinned fiend when an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind him.</p><p></p><p>“That is the first interesting thing I have heard in months”.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fiasco, post: 2835966, member: 15187"] “A filthy barrow spawn!” the Fastendian cursed bitterly, “a dirty, evil, Geduld loving piece of scum!”. His voice cracked over the last curse and Gerard intervened before he could utter further imprecations. Fortunately, Stravarius had taken no action except for pulling the hood back over his face. He merely stood on the pier, one hand defensively placed on his sword and the other held placatingly before him. The others were still too surprised to take any action save for Moxadder who backed away from the Black Elf. “Morgan! This is not the place to air our differences, remember our mission!” Gerard implored. The nobleman’s words registered on Morgan’s face and he nodded tersely in agreement. He stepped back and sheathed his sword though he remained tensed for action. The Fastendian glared from Stravarius back to Gerard. “Fine. We go into town, get a room and find out precisely how it is we got saddled with this abomination”. The others were quick to accept this plan and wasted no time in putting it into action. They walked down a broad main fare peopled with townsfolk dressed a little more eccentrically than they had seen elsewhere in Guerney. The architecture was also quite distinct though it eluded their notice, distracted as they were by recent events. They had barely travelled a hundred paces before they found a suitable lodgings. The Hat and Staff provided for their needs exactly and a price for a room was swiftly negotiated. The door to their accommodation had barely been slammed shut before Morgan renewed his invective. “One month, one Geduld cursed month we’ve been with this black hearted bastard and he never utters so much as a peep as to what he is. It’s a miracle any of us are still alive…I never did trust him, and now we have the proof!” Morgan’s blade slid out of its scabbard again to add emphases to his next words. “You people have no idea, NO IDEA of the evils performed by these twisted animals. Unless this bastard hell spawn removes himself form our company and out presence, this Hydra is about to lose a head!” Stunned silence greeted the outburst. The only people to appear unperturbed by the intensity of Morgan’s behaviour were Kuruul, who snored peacefully in the corner and Stravarius, who stood arms folded in the centre of the room. “Very well” said the Black Elf as he deliberately pulled back his hood once more. His hellish gaze fixed on each member of the Hydra in turn. “I’ll explain myself and prove you have nothing to fear from me, though my enemies might”, he said with a bitter smile that was a little too menacing to be reassuring. Without further preamble, he launched into his tale. “I can’t blame you for reviling me for what I am. I know all too well how I must appear to you. Nightmare eyes, teeth like some animal, black as Geduld’s eternal night. It was not always so. Terrible things have been done to me the like of which would have robbed you of your sanity, if not your life. For you see, I was not always like this. I began life as an elf somewhere in Guerney.” Stravarius waved an arm vaguely, as though greater detail was lost to him. “That was a long time ago, before you were born, for we do not age like you humans. One day I was out hunting with some of my friends when we were waylaid by creatures of the Dominion. They had no business being in our woods, so far removed from their own lands, but there they were. We were taken completely by surprise and were easily captured.” A look of pain distorted his face as he remembered his suffering anew. “The following weeks passed in a haze of fear and pain as we were marched ever onwards towards their defiled lands. Ultimately we were taken below ground into a place that I can only think of as hell. We were separated, my friends and I, and I never saw them again. I can only pray that they died, though I doubt they had it that easy.” He swallowed heavily and continued in a voice half choked with the effort to repress the force of his memories. “What they did to me then I cannot speak about in detail. I have forgotten large parts of it, and what little I remember causes me great pain and anguish.” With visible effort, Stravarius straightened himself from the half crouch he had unconsciously adopted. “The dreadful purpose of that terrible place, that barrow, is to take life and twist and torture it until it becomes a tool of the Dominion. I saw men warped into hobgoblins, and my kin degraded into beings like me. Other creatures were turned into things even more horrendous. I was burnt, beaten, rent and violated. And when they had finished with my exterior, they went to work on my mind but here I was lucky.” A harsh laugh escaped Stravarius at this point. None of the Hydra interrupted, acutely discomfited they were by the pain of their companion’s recollections. “I say lucky, but in truth I sometimes wonder if I would be happier amongst the gleeful cruelty of my dark brothers. My demented transformation was a slow, slow process, I could not tell the time precisely, but years passed in that wretched place. One day a massive quake struck the barrow and in the confusion I managed to escape. Physically, I was utterly their creature but my mind was still largely my own. I had achieved my liberty before they succeeded in recasting my thoughts to their liking, though most memories of my former life were erased. I fled the lands of the dominion. It was relatively easy, for I looked like one of them and they were not as well organised back then. Like a fool, I went searching for my shattered past, hiding from those who should have given me succour. I discovered that more time had passed than I had imagined. Despite our longevity two hundred years brings considerable change.” The Black Elf’s lips began to tremble and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I never found my kin or my home. My ruined memory and the upheavals my people suffered conspired to hide them from me. Those elves I did meet would have nothing to do with me. I can’t blame them. I may not have served the dominion but my thinking had become foreign to the more civilised ways of my former people. I took to disguising myself, wandering from place to place with no thought for the future. Eventually I realised that I could either die or make the best of my miserable fate. I decided to hone my skills and plot for the day when I might strike back at those who broke me and pay them back for a small fraction of what they did to me.” Stravarius looked at his companions with a mixture of challenge and despair. “So here I am, a member of the Hydra. Like you. I am here to serve the Baron, to improve my skill at arms and hopefully compete in the games. Just like you”, he reiterated. He looked pointedly at Morgan. “All I ask is that you treat me the same as before. I’m the same person who fought with you against the lepers at the docks. I travelled with you every step of the way to Yorathton. When we investigated the terrible happenings of Ravenswood I was staunch. When we defeated the Blood Sails I played my part. Trust me”, he implored them. “I haven’t given you any reason to do otherwise.” Stravarius concluded his speech by pulling his hood back over his head and resignedly awaiting their response. He felt utterly spent. Sharing his nightmare with others had not lessened its pain. The fear of rejection and the thought of an eternity spent lurking at the fringes of society unmanned him. And they might well do more than cast him out. They might kill. He considered what he would do if they turned on him. An image of a hate filled Morgan running him through set a pulse beating in his temple. With surprise he felt the fires rekindle deep within him. If they tried to kill him he would fight. He would cut, rend, scream, batter, maim, mutilate and destroy until oblivion overtook him. It was all he was good for, was all he had left. Staring at the Black Elf, Morgan felt at a loss. All his life he had been reared on hatred of the Dominion and he had seen enough to confirm every prejudice that was his birthright as a Fastendian. Yet this abomination, so visibly, clearly, obviously evil in appearance claimed to only have benign intentions towards them. He wished with all his might that his father or brothers were here. The others were mostly Guerneyans, they could not comprehend the nature of the evil that Stravarius represented, indeed it looked as if they had been swayed by the Black Elf’s speech! He looked to Moxadder but saw only a native of Irudesh city, a sink of decadence and inactivity that easily put Halfast to shame. The man was lost entirely to the lures of devil weed and would be no help with what needed to be done. With a start, Morgan sensed that Stravarius was tensed for action. His resolve firmed. If the others believed the word of this black tongued creature then so be it. It was time that he Morgan Martigan did what was needed on his own. He tightened his grip on his sword and was about to drawing it forth and attack the black skinned fiend when an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind him. “That is the first interesting thing I have heard in months”. [/QUOTE]
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Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)
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