Funeris
First Post
Prelude: Aramil and Gabrielle
The first update of the last prelude. At least, for the moment. Apparently I just might be getting another victim...err..I mean player
Enjoy.
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The forest streamed by.
Greens and browns coupled with the yellows and reds of the sun glinting from the leaves. Branches reached out, razor thin edges scratching ravenously. A deeper, thicker red melted into the dense foliage.
Lungs heaved. Muscles tired, then ached. Fresh wounds bled openly. The viscous, congealing fluid left black stains upon leather. Still, muscles pushed on. Lungs burned from overexertion.
A rough blow exploded from the side. Bone-jarring force resonated through his skull. The world spun and twisted. Limb over limb, colors merged and mated. Confusion was its progeny.
The world stilled. Dusk had come, bringing the twilight of the day, the twilight of youth. Cascading silver rained upon the landscape as daylight faded.
A shrill cry split the air. His body twitched but would not stand. Muscles ached, ceaselessly complaining for rest. Lungs still throbbed from their struggle. Another scream filled with utter and complete pain. This time though, it was coupled with resignation. Roughly, he tugged at the foliage. Still, his body denied the command to stand.
Night, a raptor, swooped from above and chased the light. One final, piercing screech shattered the darkness. Death dripped from the shrill notes. Hopelessness flooded the skies. Night devoured its prey.
Aramil bolted upright. Half-dreaming confusion wracked his mind as his eyes darted about. The nightmare had returned again in the dark of night. The burning sun hadn’t yet risen above the eastern mountain range. Within an hour, the fiery orb would begin its daily trek across the blue sky. Pinks and light reds were already clawing their way into the heavens.
The tiny mountain range in the east barely blocked the orb’s rays. The range was at least a week’s walk away. And from this distance, he could already tell they were nothing more than oversized hills. They were nothing but ants compared to the dark, brooding peaks splitting the skies to the south.
Aramil stifled a shudder. He was glad to be traveling away from the southern peaks that marked the edge of Midloth, the King’s royal territory. But the ant-sized peaks were not his destination either.
Slowly, he turned north to look into his future. Months of journeying remained, at the very least, to cross the hellish terrain. The next major terrain feature would be an old forest perched above a series of canyons. After that marker, the last range of mountains danced along the coast and hiding a treacherous sea. In that sea was his destination: Aedil, the Thirteenth Territory of the King. The only territory rumored to be just and fair to any of all races. Aedil gave the King its allegiance and yet, managed to disobey the racial laws. At least, that had been what he was told just like his companion.
Aramil shifted his gaze back to his right side. Gabrielle lied, curled upon a bed of dry leaves and moss. Draped over her small form was Aramil’s tattered blanket. Gabrielle stirred; her dark, curly hair flopped from side to side. Quietly, Aramil waited for the halfling’s shifting to end. Our destination, he corrected.
With a dirty, travel-worn hand, Aramil wiped the thick layer of sweat from his brow. Summer was fading and the nights were already beginning to chill. Because of the nightmare, because of his memories, he still awoke drenched in sweat. Since Aramil’s personal demons and devils couldn’t bleed him dry, they tortured the sweat from his body. The constant running through his dreamscape coupled with the monotonous never-ending traveling left his body sore each and every day.
Gabrielle’s half-waking twitches slowed as she lulled back into her own dreams. Aramil stood and pulled his dark hair back. A delicate gesture confined the straight hair in a leather tie, exposing his slightly pointed ears. Once Gabrielle woke and they continued their journey, his hair would have to be released again. With delicate, angular bones Aramil ran too much a risk of discovery without displaying his half-elven ears.
Traveling north had been a difficult trek alone. It had only complicated matters, when the half-elf had crossed paths with Gabrielle. She, too, was running from her past and her heritage. She had been directed to head north to Aedil. Learning that Aramil was on the same path, the halfling practically became attached at the hip to the half-elf.
She slowed his progress. She also ate more food and made more noise than a rabid band of goblins. Her stature alone caused problems in the few towns they dared enter. Passing her off as a child didn’t even ease the situation. Her mouth usually negated any clever disguises Aramil could create. As such, they had been forced to circle around several of the more recent towns. Once stopped for the night, Aramil had to backtrack in the dark and pilfer what food he could. His nights seemed to never end.
Aramil sighed as he stared at Gabrielle. Despite the grief she caused him, she was like a sister. She was another outcast to share the brunt of this journey. Before the journey ended, he was sure more than just a brunt would be borne by the both of them. Blood and tears awaited their travels. Hopefully, they would survive. But the half-elf had serious doubts.
Removing a hardened loaf of bread from his pack, Aramil sat back down beside Gabrielle. He greedily tore a hand-sized chunk and devoured it quickly. As soon as he had swallowed his piece, he waved the bread under the halfling’s nose. Gabrielle’s nostrils twitched and her eyes opened swiftly. Her hands lurched toward the bread but he snatched it just out of her reach.
“Not just yet. Get up. We have to get going.” Aramil stood again, waving the bread tantalizingly in front of his face. “Get up.”
“Fine! I’m awake.” Gabrielle sat up on the makeshift bed and gathered her things. “I didn’t get enough sleep, you know.”
“Neither did I.” Aramil retorted. “But, we need to keep going. Rest just enough so you can keep going, that’s what my father used to say.” The half-elf grimaced as a memory of his father surfaced. He shrugged it off as best as possible.
“Your father must’ve been a stupid man.” Gabrielle threw a hand over her mouth but couldn’t stop the words. Aramil’s face contorted with anger. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
The halfling’s apology was silenced by a hunk of bread hurtling toward her head. She dodged it nimbly and the bread collided with the soil. “Let’s get going!” Aramil commanded. The half-elf stalked off, all of his gear already packed.
Gabrielle quickly threw her things and Aramil’s blanket into her satchel. Then she snatched her lute and grabbed the bread off the ground. She dusted the dirt off and screamed, “Hey! Wait up!!”
The first update of the last prelude. At least, for the moment. Apparently I just might be getting another victim...err..I mean player
Enjoy.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The forest streamed by.
Greens and browns coupled with the yellows and reds of the sun glinting from the leaves. Branches reached out, razor thin edges scratching ravenously. A deeper, thicker red melted into the dense foliage.
Lungs heaved. Muscles tired, then ached. Fresh wounds bled openly. The viscous, congealing fluid left black stains upon leather. Still, muscles pushed on. Lungs burned from overexertion.
A rough blow exploded from the side. Bone-jarring force resonated through his skull. The world spun and twisted. Limb over limb, colors merged and mated. Confusion was its progeny.
The world stilled. Dusk had come, bringing the twilight of the day, the twilight of youth. Cascading silver rained upon the landscape as daylight faded.
A shrill cry split the air. His body twitched but would not stand. Muscles ached, ceaselessly complaining for rest. Lungs still throbbed from their struggle. Another scream filled with utter and complete pain. This time though, it was coupled with resignation. Roughly, he tugged at the foliage. Still, his body denied the command to stand.
Night, a raptor, swooped from above and chased the light. One final, piercing screech shattered the darkness. Death dripped from the shrill notes. Hopelessness flooded the skies. Night devoured its prey.
Aramil bolted upright. Half-dreaming confusion wracked his mind as his eyes darted about. The nightmare had returned again in the dark of night. The burning sun hadn’t yet risen above the eastern mountain range. Within an hour, the fiery orb would begin its daily trek across the blue sky. Pinks and light reds were already clawing their way into the heavens.
The tiny mountain range in the east barely blocked the orb’s rays. The range was at least a week’s walk away. And from this distance, he could already tell they were nothing more than oversized hills. They were nothing but ants compared to the dark, brooding peaks splitting the skies to the south.
Aramil stifled a shudder. He was glad to be traveling away from the southern peaks that marked the edge of Midloth, the King’s royal territory. But the ant-sized peaks were not his destination either.
Slowly, he turned north to look into his future. Months of journeying remained, at the very least, to cross the hellish terrain. The next major terrain feature would be an old forest perched above a series of canyons. After that marker, the last range of mountains danced along the coast and hiding a treacherous sea. In that sea was his destination: Aedil, the Thirteenth Territory of the King. The only territory rumored to be just and fair to any of all races. Aedil gave the King its allegiance and yet, managed to disobey the racial laws. At least, that had been what he was told just like his companion.
Aramil shifted his gaze back to his right side. Gabrielle lied, curled upon a bed of dry leaves and moss. Draped over her small form was Aramil’s tattered blanket. Gabrielle stirred; her dark, curly hair flopped from side to side. Quietly, Aramil waited for the halfling’s shifting to end. Our destination, he corrected.
With a dirty, travel-worn hand, Aramil wiped the thick layer of sweat from his brow. Summer was fading and the nights were already beginning to chill. Because of the nightmare, because of his memories, he still awoke drenched in sweat. Since Aramil’s personal demons and devils couldn’t bleed him dry, they tortured the sweat from his body. The constant running through his dreamscape coupled with the monotonous never-ending traveling left his body sore each and every day.
Gabrielle’s half-waking twitches slowed as she lulled back into her own dreams. Aramil stood and pulled his dark hair back. A delicate gesture confined the straight hair in a leather tie, exposing his slightly pointed ears. Once Gabrielle woke and they continued their journey, his hair would have to be released again. With delicate, angular bones Aramil ran too much a risk of discovery without displaying his half-elven ears.
Traveling north had been a difficult trek alone. It had only complicated matters, when the half-elf had crossed paths with Gabrielle. She, too, was running from her past and her heritage. She had been directed to head north to Aedil. Learning that Aramil was on the same path, the halfling practically became attached at the hip to the half-elf.
She slowed his progress. She also ate more food and made more noise than a rabid band of goblins. Her stature alone caused problems in the few towns they dared enter. Passing her off as a child didn’t even ease the situation. Her mouth usually negated any clever disguises Aramil could create. As such, they had been forced to circle around several of the more recent towns. Once stopped for the night, Aramil had to backtrack in the dark and pilfer what food he could. His nights seemed to never end.
Aramil sighed as he stared at Gabrielle. Despite the grief she caused him, she was like a sister. She was another outcast to share the brunt of this journey. Before the journey ended, he was sure more than just a brunt would be borne by the both of them. Blood and tears awaited their travels. Hopefully, they would survive. But the half-elf had serious doubts.
Removing a hardened loaf of bread from his pack, Aramil sat back down beside Gabrielle. He greedily tore a hand-sized chunk and devoured it quickly. As soon as he had swallowed his piece, he waved the bread under the halfling’s nose. Gabrielle’s nostrils twitched and her eyes opened swiftly. Her hands lurched toward the bread but he snatched it just out of her reach.
“Not just yet. Get up. We have to get going.” Aramil stood again, waving the bread tantalizingly in front of his face. “Get up.”
“Fine! I’m awake.” Gabrielle sat up on the makeshift bed and gathered her things. “I didn’t get enough sleep, you know.”
“Neither did I.” Aramil retorted. “But, we need to keep going. Rest just enough so you can keep going, that’s what my father used to say.” The half-elf grimaced as a memory of his father surfaced. He shrugged it off as best as possible.
“Your father must’ve been a stupid man.” Gabrielle threw a hand over her mouth but couldn’t stop the words. Aramil’s face contorted with anger. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
The halfling’s apology was silenced by a hunk of bread hurtling toward her head. She dodged it nimbly and the bread collided with the soil. “Let’s get going!” Aramil commanded. The half-elf stalked off, all of his gear already packed.
Gabrielle quickly threw her things and Aramil’s blanket into her satchel. Then she snatched her lute and grabbed the bread off the ground. She dusted the dirt off and screamed, “Hey! Wait up!!”
