[The Dust Bed Ridge]Fortunes of the Dead(Mok)

[Rayage]

The nuit wasnt quite sure what was going to happen now. He watched the man who had helped him, the mystery bag still in hand he looked back to the corpses, and then back to Mok, who seemed to have no ill intention. Though, nonetheless, he still kept his suspicions. This was Sunberth after all and what would a mortal want with a 'immortal' like himself. The nuit was in an immense amount of pain, and although he still stood it was only by the grace that he hadnt finished his mission here yet. Yes he hadnt finished what he had stayed in this world to do.

The man addressed him , "Bleeding?" Ray laughed, "This is not blood." he told him, though it was very much like blood as in it held and was the vital essence which kept him alive. Thinking back now, he probably shouldnt have taken so many blows, but it was necessary to win, to ultimately survive because there was no other way. In his head he was cursing himself, "You obviously never seen a nuit before." he revealed what he was to the man, "I hail from the Isle of Sahova." he told him finding a wall of a nearby crypt to lean his weight on.

Pressing his back to the cold stone wall, he leaned back his head until it was caught by the wall as well. He then held a hand out in front of him and moved it around, examining the many wounds he received. It was getting harder to move his body, if he lost any more ichor it would be the end of him. He needed a new body, this one was no longer suitable, no, especially not with the arrow in his head. "You cannot help me with my 'bleeding'" he said hoping that he used a term the other understood. "It would be best to just get a new body." he said looking at Mok, "You said fifty-fifty?" he asked before shaking his head, "Fine." he waved a hand dismissingly. This was quite a small price to acquire a new body, "Though, you will help me collect a new body." he pointed at him, Preferably one without too many wounds. Unnatural holes in the body leak my ichor." he explained to him, sliding down the wall until he was sitting.

What was to keep this man from just killing him now? What was holding him back? Curiosity? Maybe the man thought he could use him? He laughed at that thought, probably sounding slightly mad before he croaked, "H1-A..." the furry thing on his shoulder moved in response to his words, "Go dig out my bottle of embalming fluid." he said, glad that he had taken his backpack with him today. It was quite fortunate. The furry lizard jumped into the open pack, as Ray lazily shoved a hand in as well looking for that bottle. He found it nudged into his hand by the lizard, who faithfully found it before Ray even did, and so the nuit pulled it out. Uncorking the bottle he started applying it to his wounds. This would slow the ichor loss, but ultimately he needed to sew himself shut. Where was that doctor when you needed him? Ray laughed again thinking of Reaver, but then again, would he trust the other nuit to close him up?

He wasnt going to admit death quite yet, but as he was applying the substance to this skin he could feel the body getting slower and slower, it was getting harder to move! That, that scared him, "If you are going to help me," he would say to Mok, "then you need to get going." the alchemist said hoping that his fellows natural curiosity about him would drive him to help the nuit.

[Mok]

Although Rayage had agreed to form a partnership and stated terms, the half-blood stood completely still. Everything was suddenly beginning to catch up to him. He just teamed up was a man who was already dead. It was almost impossible for the myrian to wrap his mind around. Sahova? Nuit? These words were new to him. Nuits didn't exist in the Faylndar or Taloba. He had never seen one until now, nor had he ever heard tales or stories of the creatures. Now he was witnessing in the first person the walking dead. Mok's heart fell to his stomach and his pulse began to speed up. He could feel the fear creeping up from behind his neck and into his face. A new type of fear, very different than the terror of battle, which he was so used to.

The myrian was torn in two. Up until this moment, he feared not death. Now everything changes. Now he was wallowing in intense horror. What the hell did Mok get himself into? He should have just walked away.

Looking closer at Rayage, Mok's mind started to explode. Twisted apparitions began to form in the ichor. The white liquid was moving, expanding and contracting like a balloon. The texture was fuzzy too; he could see every little hair on sundae’s juice. All of Ray's energy seemed be sucked away with the ichor. His sin was turning green, then black, then green again, shriveling in decay. The dead man's eyes began to sink into bottomless black pits, but no matter what, Mok could still see a shining pupil. As the nuit talked white sludge began to escape his mouth, leaking all over his chest and stomach like vomit. His fingernails grew and grew and grew to an impossible length, yet he was still able to search his bag. Next his legs started to disappear; beginning at his feet and slowly moving upwards, his body began to flatten into nothingness.

Mok's eyes where wide and his pupils were wide too. His mouth was still open, showing obvious signs of fear. He needed to make a decision now: help this guy out or just walk away. Would the myrian risk helping this guy? How did he know if the nuit wasn't going to stab him in the back? Mok needed answers and the pulp wasn't helping. Battle was one thing, but this was another. He felt like having a heart attack. What now?

Suddenly, Rayage snapped him back into reality, even if it was just for a mere moment. Mok realized now he had been standing there for at least a couple of hours just looking at nuit silently. It was a wander that the walking corpse didn't say anything earlier. Maybe he got stares often. Perhaps he understood why Mok was so perplexed. No matter though. Mok needed to make a decision fast. He could wait any longer. Looking up at the moon, the half-blood was able to think clearer and he understood now what he had to do. His goal was to come here and make money. If he didn't walk out of this damn graveyard with good loot, everything would have been a huge waste of time.

The myrian would run with it, his response to Ray's beckon was short and sweat, "Yup." It was time for work.

Scanning the area, Mok tried to figure out which body would be the best for the nuit. No holes or cuts he said. That was a big problem though. ALL of the fresh corpses had been damaged in some way. Winding through the scattered plot of fresh bodies on the floor, the myrian looked for the one with the least amount of laceration.

Quickly, the gangster found the carcass of the one his killed second. The man had a deep wound in his neck; easily an instant fatality. The rest of them were way too damn messy to petch with. Grabbing a longsword off the floor and the murder victim's collar, the half-blood dragged the body right next to Ray. The body wasn't quiet perfect yet though.

"I'll fix it right quick," Mok said in a low, gritty voice. Running towards the entrance of the crypt, he picked up the torch that the grave robbers where using to explore the building. Luckily, it was still burning. Returning to Ray's location, Mok held the flat of the longsword against the flames until the metal was hot. He paid very little attention to the nuit though as he didn't want to get lost in thought. He didn't even answer any questions or words Rayage had. The alchemist would have to wait and see Mok's plans.

After several minutes the blade was ready. Before losing any heat, Mok swiftly brought the blade down on the neck of Ray's new corpse. Within seconds the wound was cauterized.

"Good deal."

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Rayage]

The small response the nuit got from the man was slightly comforting. That meant that he would have a body in time. Watching the other as he chose the least damaged body of them all and then how he dragged the body over to Ray the nuit chuckled. Surely it was less damaged but it was wounded, a wound wouldn’t do, but before the nuit could raise an objection the man was off again, going into a crypt he disappeared for a moment before coming back with a torch. This ought to be interesting.

Leaning back almost weakly onto the wall the nuit looked up into the darkness of the night as the man fixed up the body ‘right quick’. The stars were out. Ray laughed; he hadn’t noticed the stars in such a long time. A hand reached out in front of him, rising into the sky as if to grab one and strike it from the heavens, but he had no such luck. They seemed so insignificant, shining night after night; it was hard to believe that they were even more ancient than him.

Ray was brought back from his thoughts as the man spoke again, having successfully fixed up the body. He had a changing moment when he nodded, looking at the body. Not the best looking guy, but it was something he would have to deal with. Taking action immediately he disrobed the body, this taking longer than it should have as his own body was freezing up, getting ‘stiff’ and harder to move. Throwing the soiled and ruined clothes aside the nuit quickly began drawing the runes, glyphs, and various other symbols on the body needed for the transfer ritual on key parts of the body-to-be with his own ichor. He wasted no time with ink, and his ichor was already pouring out of him.

When he was finished he looked to the other, ”This will take a while” he said, ”Where there are rats there are more rats.” he reminding the warrior who decided to help him. He did not want to be caught off guard, or rather, the other man caught off guard. The shadows can give one a false sense of security. Children have a right to be afraid of the dark.

Climbing over the body Ray opened the corpses mouth and hovered his own head above that of the corpse. This is where the ritual really begins. Now he had to… Ichor would start to drip from his mouth and into the other body. At first it was a slow drip, drip, drip, like a broken faucet. Time wore on and the dripping continued at a hastened pace. It would be a while before all the ichor come from Ray and went into the new body.

More and more time passed, the dripping turned into a steady stream before too long, but then, with most of the ichor out of the body it began to slow down again to drop by drop. The process was almost over. Drop, drop, drop, and finally the last drop fell into the body and with that drop came all that was Rayage. As soon as that drop entered the corpse the body that Ray inhabited dropped on top of the new one, lifeless, motionless, and the body that Ray switched to was still too. It would be a curious sight to someone who didn’t know what was happening. Then, a finger moved, a finger on the rune-marked body. And then slowly it started to come to life, Ray just lying there exhausted. Switching always took a mental toll. He needed to move though. Letting out a groan, a sound that everyone knew for life, he wanted to be sure the other knew he was at least there.

Moving the body off him, exhausted hands looked over the old body; it was time for a change. The many wounds he established, he was lucky he didn’t ichor outInstead of bleed out lol. Looking at the other he nodded, before stripping the possessions off the now useless corpse that used to be his body. Clothing himself, his robes now fell about him, as old and ancient as he was with new rips and tears from the teeth of steel to repair later. ”Well, that was a bother.” he said, taking ahold of his sword again, though he was unsure how useful he would be now that he changed bodies. He was tired, and unused to this body. It was going to take some time. ”So,” he started, ”Think they found anything good?” he asked trying to make conversation before looking over to the tomb, ”Care to finish what they started?” he asked pointing at the crypt. He still had soulmist and had yet to meet a ghost.

[Mok]

Mok stared in disbelief was the nuit began to draw symbols on the corpse, none of which made any sense to the illiterate myrian. "Was this guy for real?" he muttered under his breath. Not only was he already tripping out and high off pulp, but Rayage's actions where amplifying his current state of paranoia. The ignorant warrior was oblivious that things such as nuits even existed, let alone that they could transfer bodies at a whim. All of this was too much to comprehend. Plopping down on the floor, the myrian continued to stare. What would Rayage do next? Biting his own knuckle, Mok's heart began to beat fast. Whatever was coming next would probably be intense and horrifying.

In mere minutes the nuit finished the complex markings and reminded Mok that the process would take a while. The myrian wandered how long it would actually take, but remained silent. Wasting no time, Ray climbed over the body and began the ritual. There weren't any fireworks or explosions though. In fact, all that the nuit did was open his mouth and began to drain the fluid from his mouth into the new body. Now the myrian was beginning to understand...the undead could transfer bodies at will. Mok cringed a little when he realized this. In his mind, Mok was worried. Rayage seemingly could not be killed by the blade and even after several lacerations he could just 'move' into a new body. The half-blood's mind was blown. What he was currently witnessing was so awesome and incomprehendable Mok's began to become very dizzy.

That’s when he first noticed the nuit's second pet, H1-A as he called it, a lizard with dark green fur with purple streaks. Mok's eyes widened and he let out a laugh, "What are you?" he said to the creature. Who responded in still silence? The lizard refused to move at all. Its whole body was motionless, it didn't even blink. Mok let out a laugh again. He didn't know why though. This was the most terrifying scene of all the ages: a high myrian sitting around dead bodies in a graveyard, watching a dead guy move into another body and the only thing keeping him company was a furry lizard. What the petch? The whole situation was humorous to Mok, but as he continued to chuckle he realized that he was horrified out of his mind. This was different than fighting. This was not the same terror that comes with fighting for blood, no this was different. What was happening right now shook Mok to his very core.

More Pulp. That was the answer. He needed to consume more of the drug. If he did, he would feel better, he knew it. His irrational fear would be washed away with the leaves of love. Producing his drug once more, the gangster packed some of the herb into his pipe, lit it, and began to take long inhalations. Each time he hit the pipe, he held in the smoke as long as he possibly could, coughing his lungs out when exhaling. One, two, three hits of pulp...but it was not enough. He wasn't high enough yet. His body wasn't numb enough yet. He did not want to hallucinate again, but he needed more. Dipping his finger in the resin, Mok applied it all over his gums again.

Almost immediately it hit him like a ton of bricks to the head. Falling on his back the myrian completely absorbed into the ground. Slowly he began to sink. All the noise around him went away. Lower and lower he went, until he was lying in his own grave. Looking up at the sky, Mok saw the heavens spin all its glory. All the stars turning like a huge wheel in the sky, every moment a bright light would flicker out and another one would appear in its place. The euphoria he was no experiencing was amazing. His whole body was on fire, but it was a good feeling. His limbs and arms felt like they were melting into the soft, upturned dirt of his grave. He began to throw up now, but that felt amazing too. The vomit came out of his stomach and poured all over his body in splendid delight. All the food he was eating earlier left his body and was now feeding the earth...but Mok didn't care why he should? He could not control it and it felt amazing. It felt like his whole insides were being cleaned and cleansed.

Pulp was a full body orgasm. It was better than sex. Better than ale. It was the best thing, next to the bloodlust of battle. It was petching awesome.

Suddenly, doubt hit his mind. How long was he laying there? Minutes? Hours? What was he thinking?! Mok did not heed the nuits words at all. He was supposed to be watching Rayage. Panic surged through his body and just like the euphoric feeling, this panic was amplified to the extreme. It rose from the pit of his stomach and hit his heart like a lightning bolt. He needed to arise from the grave immediately. He needed to make sure everything was alright. Any soul that walked there would be able to take both of their lives.

Struggling, the myrian tried to stand up, but it wasn't working. He needed more energy, more power, but how? How could he arise from such a pulp induced state? Blast it! Mok was such a fool, but he knew what needed to be done. He needed to call upon the darkness in his heart. It had NEVER failed him. Using all the evil that lived in his soul, Mok would be able to awaken from his trance. He filled his mind with terror and horror, pride and hatred, death and blood. Imagines filled his mind when he closed his eyes, imagines without explanation. Slowly he called upon the darkness. Slowly, he gathered all the will power in the world in order to stand.

"UP!" Mok screamed, "UP! UP! UP! HIYYYAAHHHH" He did it. The gangster stood to his feet and now the world around him was changed.

The colors screamed at him. Everything was vibrating. Staggering forward, Mok fell to the floor once more, eating a face full of soft dirt. He blacked out for what seemed only a moment, then vomited some more black liquid. He stood up. The world was shaking. All the vibrations made his eyes widen. Quickly, Mok scanned the surroundings. Nothing. Nothing changed. Rayage was still dripping and H1-A was still completely still.

How much time passed? How long had he been lying on the floor? Why hadn't anyone else approached? What was that damn nuit doing?

Suddenly, H1-A began to move. It was merely stretching its legs or something, but Mok snapped anyways. This triggered something in his mind and he drew his gladius. The furry lizard would die! It was time to rein punishment down on the animal. The gangster immediately took chase. He would kill the damn creature, if it was the last thing he did.

But he didn't. The moment he took a step towards it, the animal scurried away and disappeared from Mok's view. The myrian was so high; he couldn’t judge were the little scamp had run off too. Just as quickly as he decided to murder it, he chose to give up.

That’s when the man with all the symbols began to move and tremble. That was why H1-A was all excited! Within a few moments, the "new" Rayage tossed the "old" Rayage away. It was done. The man who was once dead was now "alive" and the nuit's old body was as dead as a door nail. Rayage didn't petch around though. He went straight to business and began to cloth himself in his dark robes as the myrian stood there in awe. He had just witnessed a nuit body transfer and had absolutely no idea what he was seeing. To him it was just unbelievable and he could only cope with was going on with the pulp.

Rayage asked for the myrian to go right to work. Mok obliged. Collecting his pulp, Mok relighted the torch as Rayage prepared himself and finished any last minute details. Gladius in his right hand and torch in his left, the gangster took the lead. He would be the point in this adventure into the tomb.

~~~

The entrance to the crypt was dark and creepy. The stone door had been forced open by the previous grave robbers with an iron sledge hammer. Mok sheathed his blade and picked up the tool as it would come in good use later. Stepping into the ruined hall way, a shiver went down the gangster’s spine. It was unnaturally cold in the tomb. Now inside, his torch burned much lower...too low for Mok's liking. It must have been the air, or evil spirits. The whole place was covered in cob webs too. Everything was vibrating from the pulp, but for some reason everything was now in shades of gray. No more color. This creeped out Mok as well. After walking twenty feet into the hillside, the broken and tattered floor dropped suddenly into a staircase going down.

Going extremely slowly, Mok stepped with one foot at a time. At the end of the stair case was another hallway, this time going right and left, instead of straight. Looking around each corner, the myrian saw more staircases going down each way as well as rooms at the ends of each hall. Further investigation of each room showed that they were all already looted. They needed to continue downward. Without asking Rayage, Mok continued down the staircase on the right.

At the end of this staircase, was one of the bigger mausoleums, but there was still yet another staircase that went further down into blackness.

"Do we start breaking here?” Mok asked Rayage, referring to the unopened tombs in this room, “Or do we continue downwards…You’re the expert…"

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Archelon]

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Rayage : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Spiritism 3 weapon(falchion) 4 Animal Husbandry 2 Hypnotism 2 glyphing 2 Lores: Dangers of the cemetery Ledger: 35 gold mizas worth of items sold. Note, changing bodies usually leaves a nuit weaker. I pictured it would actually take a little longer too. But still, a good save on an aborted story so far. Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting, any questions comments, concerns, please feel free to pm me a nice pm .