Citywide Plot: Past Lives.

[Syllke Skyglow]

“So, what was it again? A locket?” The young woman swept a curling lock of auburn from her eyes. Innis grinned a bit lopsidedly, and his body tilted just a bit as he leaned in for another kiss. He was only drunk, not totally plastered, and his hand where it gripped the girl’s naked thigh was still moving in a way that clearly spoke of his desire, and his intent to see it reach culmination. She was new in Denval and her flaming hair had immediately attracted his constantly roving eye. Moira had teasingly chided Innis about the company he chose to keep – something about him not even bothering to find out most of the women’s names. He had replied laughingly that he simply wasn’t built for monogamy, as she apparently was. But this one – this one . . . "No, 'twas a pendant," he mumbled as his mouth covered hers hungrily and she returned his forceful kiss measure for measure, but then gently shoved him back, slightly breathless. “Go on. You were telling me of this wondrous piece of jewelry you helped your friend make, for her lover.” Those lush, warm, plump lips curled up into an alluring and totally - from the jeweler’s point of view – irresistible smile. To make matters worse – or better, perhaps – her pink tongue darted out to lick those lips he so badly wanted to taste again. Where did they find these girls, he wondered, thinking that if this one had been in any of the big cities, she could be making a small fortune. If she was in Suva itself, she could have lived like a queen – been a consort to some powerful and rich man. What insanity, or stupidity, had made her agree to come work in Denval was anyone’s guess. He was just glad that someone had talked her into coming to this forlorn corner of the empire. Sometimes, he wondered if Moira truly appreciated the personal sacrifices that he made for their friendship. Pushing her back down on the bed with his chest, as his hands roved upwards and his lips moved towards her once more, he said with just a slight slur, “Wuzzantme – Moira made it hersell. I just gave her a few pointers. Amberrr . . . n’steel. Told her steel for a soldier. Looked great.” He grinned expansively. “You look better though. A jewel – aswhayou are. Pretty jewel . . . “ The rest was lost as he seemed to veer off course and instead buried his face between her breasts. As a result, he missed the smug smile above him, as the girl’s hands moved expertly down his back and thence around to his front.

[Legion]

Award Syllke: Lore of Past Life. You write so beautifully.

[Legion]

Another great addition! Cryos - an armorer in Captain Orionis’ command who fell with him in battle.

[Cryos Bladebane]

Looking at one of the other armorers, the Isur spoke calmly as he watched the Garrison begining to fail. "We have to get this armor to the captain," he said, and picked up the heavy mail himself, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the garrison had fallen, and knew that the captain needed his armor, otherwise he'd possibly fall in battle too. The armorer wasn't sure of what the battle was about, he wasn't privy to those details, he just knew that he made armor, and it was what he did. Making his way forth into the garrison, an arrow struck his shoulder.

It seemed the captain would not have this newest piece of armor that the isur had crafted for him today. Grunting as he gripped the arrow, he broke the shaft in half, and tugged the arrow from his shoulder. But he knew, knew it was poisoned. Falling to his knees, the other Armorer with him began to pull him back towards the Armory, when a second arrow hit the isur in the stomach. Grunting further, he gasped for breath as the first arrow had punctured his lung, and he fell backwards onto the ground.

There would be no glorious victory for them this day, and not even the isur could help his captain out now. As the poisons from the arrows coursed through his veins, he laid upon the ground looking up towards the dark sky, a vision in his face of the captain, a man he would serve until the end, which seemed to be coming quite soon, nothing he could do would stop it, as a third arrow pierced his leg, and the other Armorer left him there to die outside the armory as he took cover from the hail of arrows that followed.

This was it then, he thought, as his eyes grew foggy, and his body felt limp. His breathing was labored, and his mouth was starting to foam up with red bubbles of blood. But then something happened. Awakening, Cryos sat up within his bed, panting and looking around, a hand gripping his chest. What the heck was that, the isur thought to himself as he looked around. Some strange dream, he thought, and laid back down to sleep, and try to put the dream out of his mind for the time being, given it frightened him that he had had something so terrible cross through his mind as he slept...

OOCHope this is good enough, wasn't exactly sure what I was able to write about, but still gave it my best shot! >.<

[Legion]

Award Cryos: Lore of Past Life. You did a fantastic job. This was perfect.

[Sondra]

Before the paltry mouths of men and gods cluttered expression with words, this was the divine voice, manifesting from nothing and crackling with power. It had the force of time in a brief cinder, able to foist mountains, temper metal and molder bones. It was a long life tightly bound, the interminable years reduced to the blinding passion and scalding desire. Oh for the tongues of fire. Before they could understand obeisance and worship, people cowered and blessed his gift, even without knowing his name. Words were unnecessary and vain. Now, the untamed god was cruelly fettered, and the world seemed a dimmer place for it. Was he not all that made men distinct from the frozen world? The creative and destructive force, stirred enough by primal love to feel hatred. To bind Ivak was to bind what moved the spirit. When he was old and gray or young and burning, Lanzara’s son might forgive him. Lanzara heard the voice of an innocent god, of a god condemned, and sought to free him. Only a wretch would resist such cries. In gratitude for this freedom, a divine hand could bless his blood in every life they began. There was a price, just as all bright fires had ashes. One life for many, Zaital’s lingering years of infirmity for Ivak’s freedom, sanity for love: fair trades all. It was not obsession. He was merely a man who had courage equal to desire and desire equal to courage. Lanzara’s torch was fading, damning him to the dark of the shared tomb, and he did not have the heart to raise it again. When he awoke, perhaps it would be in a world where no shade could overcome the flame, and where no language could enslave Ivak’s voice. His hands trembled, cold at the last and the fire died, finally unable to consume what gave it life.

[Legion]

Award Sondra: Lore of Past Life. The awesome just continues. That was wonderful!

[Legion]

A wonderful addition! Lucy - Denvali guardswoman whom Lanzara Zaital took as hostage.

[Lucy]

She was in the garden with her dad. They were looking at the beauty of the sky above the forgotten city. A question was flying around them and she was dying to answer, but she couldn't go against the silence around them. It was just beautiful, beauty of simplicity. "Guardswomen.", she answered softly. "I want to become Denvali guardswomen, daddy. I want to defend Denval, I know I can do it!" Of course he haven't agreed, he wanted to protect her, he didn't wanted his only child to do such a dangerous job. But it was said. She wanted to do it so much. Maybe she should listened to him? Maybe it wouldn't end like this? She couldn't think about what should or could happen anymore. She tried to remember everything she felt that day, when she was young, to pick up every piece of will she had back then and try to defend Denval once again. But she couldn't. She was tied up and she couldn't move. Everything was her fault, if she just had her guard up back then... That man took her as hostage. He seemed a bit weird, talking about that stone of his all the time, and nobody of them understood what he was talking about. It seemed like whole Denval was fighting him and it has to do something with the stone. "Come on!", said someone. "Prisoners, follow me." That voice irritated her. That guy talked to them as they were dogs, just unimportant tools in his big game. But... what they actually were? As she could remember they didn't do anything important. They failed to stop intruders and now they are stupid hostages. She was angry on herself, she just wanted city to stay safe, is it that much to ask? After a quart of an hour of walk they were in Denval. The place was empty. All the peoples, all the happy faces just disappeared. She was seeing them around her, they seemed like ghosts. They were always around here with their smiles. Why is all the happiness sucked from here? Were they hidden? She saw Captain Galatia waiting for them. She wanted to ask for forgiveness, but she was not worth attention. Not anymore. Everything after that was not clear. The man and Captain were talking, fighting or something and after that she heard some terrible noise. She haven't felt any pain, even nor she knew it was painful. Sudden memory was echoing in her head. "Guardswomen. I want to become Denvali guardswomen, daddy. I want to defend Denval, I know I can do it!" Oh, how wrong was she.

[Talen Stirling]

A leather strap tightened around a muscular arm with a slithering noise when a pale hand pulled the tip of it through it's own end, the shoulder pauldron it was attached to fitting snugly around his arm like the scales of a beast. He felt awkwardly aware of her standing in the doorway watching, those warm eyes and familiar body resting against the doorframe with an apprehensive posture. Snatching the shin guard off the table he bent down and placed it carefully, holding it in place with one hand as he tightened the straps. It was awkward, tying it up on his own, but he knew asking would only set alight the tension in the air. From his crouch he saw her right foot tap a tap-tap-pause-tap rhythm, like she always did when she were agitated. Perhaps that was why the little one hid behind her skirt and didn't come help him either, knowing better than to risk breaking the strained peace of the little room. He got up slowly, eyes darting to the round of her belly breaking her otherwise svelte shape with a mountain of life-to-be. He looked away and grasped the second shinguard as a loving smile erupted across his face, one that she would certainly not appreciate seeing in this moment. Croucing again, he set about the task of fitting it with an absent mind, the picture of her angry pout as vivid in his mind as the one that existed behind him. The strap slipped and he cursed under his breath, but it was broken by the patter of light feet upon the wooden floor. Daddy let me!" He stood up and reached around to pat the little on the head as she strapped on the shin guard he held in place with deft little chubby hands. It was a task that was not foreign to the little one, who was in that age where helping out with things was something to be relished rather than dreaded. An age that he had heard went away much too quickly. He turned around slowly as he heard the steps of his darling wife approach, resting a hand on the table and looking at her with a fearful expression only her anger and sadness could still bring out in him. The little one stood close by his side and he held her hand in his own as the one who held his heart approached them with a stoic expression, her dark eyes flashing with emotion. "You weren't supposed to leave anymore... It's not right. Do your obligations not rest here, instead of out there?" Her voice rose sharply near the end, but instead of the anger he had feared she seemed to quiver with worry instead, her strong posture and sharp gaze faltering in it's severity. Her motions had been animated with hand movements, but they fell limply to her side as she looked at him with a silent plea. He smiled at her fair face, and gently snatched her hand into his own. "You know my heart will always rest here with you. No harm can come to me, for they cannot stop a heart that is elsewhere bound." He tugged her closer by the lithe hand he held in his own, landing a bittersweet kiss upon her lips to the delighted giggle of the little one before stepping away from the both of them. Duty did call, and though he believed in the words he had spoken, the truth they held was not the simple one that he couldn't die. His heart, his intention and his hopes would live on, but the man might not.