FatBard (guest) 1252383026|%e %b %Y, %H:%M %Z|agohover
“You be traveling by oneself lad? You best be careful around these parts, they say a demon lives in these woods.” The old innkeeper rasped. Gillian cringed every time the man spoke, such an unpleasant voice, just die old man. He smiled at that thought of the old innkeeper collapsing and turned only to frown as he discovered his thoughts had not come true. “Nobility such as I needn’t listen to the worthless advice of a commoner such as you.” Gillian replied with knives in his words and a sneer on his face. The old man turned away and let the young knight leave, muttering to himself about disrespectful youth. “May I hear about this demon?” The voice gave the old man a start. He spun around to see a young woman sitting where the knight had been sitting just moments ago, her hair was a dark red and even in dimness of the inn he could make out her peculiar green eyes. “Oh my! I wasn’t aware anyone else was here! Are you a friend of that man perchance?” Nervousness was clear in the old man’s voice as he remembered the insults he had spouted just moments before. The girl just giggled and said, “No.”
The old man sighed and then looked again at the girl’s eyes, “Your eyes… It’s almost as if they glow with light of their own young lady.” The girl smiled and blushed, “You flatter me!” The innkeeper smiled back, “Must be my eyes, not as sharp as they once were.” He motioned to the massive greatbow mounted above the fire place and continued, “I was quite the hunter in my day.” The girl turned to see and looked back at the innkeeper, “Hunting what?” The old man shot her a serious look and replied, “Demons.” The girl giggled, “Oh you jest good sir!” The man stared at the bow, as if recalling something and laughed, “Perhaps.” The innkeeper turned and poured a glass of water, “Thirsty miss?” But there was no reply. “Miss?” The innkeeper looked over his shoulder, no one was there.
∞∞∞
“Demons? Save those old wives tales for children or better yet, the deaf.” Gillian laughed as he continued down the road. The Coal was slowly dipping below the tops of the peaks of the Great Shield bathing the trees and road in a blood red light. Gillian knew better than to believe in such things and the rumors that a monstrous demon had been attacking wandering swordsmen in the North had attracted him. Like many noble knights his age, Gillian was out to make a name for himself, to live by the sword. “Hear me demon!? I will cut you down and take your head so the world will know my name! Gillian Snarswoth!” Gillian drew his sword and swung at air triumphantly slaying an imagined bandit. “Is that so?” Gillian froze and his blood ran cold, as if the cool evening air had suddenly become colder than the depths of winter. He spun around, mastering his fear like his father had taught him. There a figure, cloaked in the darkening night stood, their eyes glinting, almost glowing in the deepening darkness. “Who are you?” Gillian knew better than to be unnerved. He readied himself, entering the stance of his ancestors. Breath. Master your fear. Master yourself. The silence was disturbing, exploding in his ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. His heart felt it would burst. He readied his sword and surged forwards, “Silence is guilt!” Gillian shouted, quoting the Orders of the Luminate.
∞∞∞
Mara felt as if her foe was moving in slow motion. Is this it? Is this all you have? Worthless. You are but a child. She sidestepped, drew out her sword and slashed her opponent’s arm off below the elbow in one motion. The knights screamed in rage but calmed himself and adjusted his grip for one handed combat. Well disciplined. You demonstrate mastery over yourself. “But mastery of the self is not enough to defeat me.” Mara ducked under the clumsy swing and smiled. Not so easy to swing that long sword with one hand. She rammed her elbow into his chest and brought her sword up through his side and out his shoulder. Children playing with demons. Indeed I have become the demon that I have hunted for so long.
