| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
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| Topic Started: Sat Oct 17, 2009 3:06 am (155 Views) | |
| Aleister | Sat Oct 17, 2009 3:06 am Post #1 |
 
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The cries of a man rung out through the quiet air of the city, cries of unbearable pain. Night had fallen, all had gone silent, no one dared to venture out tonight. It was a night in October. Darkness enveloped even this cheerful city, even the guards were terrified and didn't come to this man's help. Who would ever want to interfere? Aleister stood up, cracking his knuckles, his hands covered in blood. Loosely he held a wicked looking dagger in two fingers, the blade hanging lightly in between his fingers. Aleis then ran one hand through his hair, the fresh blood leaving a trail in the raven black hair. The boy wasn't that tall, but even then he was a dark figure. He had black hair, yellow, vicious eyes, pale skin that looked almost white in the shadows. He wore a black and green outfit that didn't exactly look from this world, or just an outfit that not many people see everyday. He did have a hat, but it had been tossed to the side a while ago. Aleister was humming a song, it was cheery and had a upbeat to it, though, there was something dark about it too. "It's much more fun, I must confess When lives are on the line Not mine, of course, but yours of course Now that'd be just fine." The tiefling torturer mage sung to himself silently. The elf that laid on the ground before him was half dead, half alive, but alive enough to move, for the man was trying to crawl away, which made Aleis grin. He moved towards the front of the elf who was in pain and trying to escape unsuccessfully. The elf was reaching forward, but just then, Aleister's foot slammed down on the elf's hand, sharp snapping sounds resounded in the air as the torturer dug his heel on the elf's hand, rubbing it in the cobbled street. The man cried out in the sudden pain. Aleister tilted his head back and laughed. This was wonderful. It felt like its been forever since he's last made someone miserable. He looked down on the elf who was suddenly not moving. His laughter halted, and brows raised. He knelt before the figure and set two fingers against the elf's neck, there was just barely a pulse. A pity. Aleister was just having his fun too. It was no fun playing with a near dead person who he'd already mutilated. Blood covered the street and elf. This would be a wonderful treat for the people to find in the morning. Aleister stood up, and kicked the elf onto his back, a soft almost unheard groan passed through the persons lips. "Well, it was fun while it lasted." And with that, he set his foot on the elf's neck, and pushed down, suffocating the elf and then finally, killing him. Death was a wonderful thing, but only if you went to Hell, as Aleis believed. But the Black Harvest was wonderful for him! Stronger powers, and magic, that never happened where he came from. This place, Imythess, was truly wonderful. |
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| James Kenton | Sat Oct 17, 2009 3:53 am Post #2 |
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James was walking among the heavy walled buildings of Cascadia. He was muttering to himself, nothing of much interest or importance. His staff clacked lightly on the hard stone, the sound of iron tapping cobble. He was debating himself again. Should he have left, why did he leave. He pushed these out of his mind. He needed to find a place to stay for the night. Apparently the monks at all the churches would not let him in because they were full. He had no money for an inn. He grumbled as he walked past a vagrant in a door way. He made his way to the outer edge of the city, past all the little shops, all the bakeries and butchers, brothels and bookstores, shoemakers and tanners. All the way to the edge of the city. He was standing next to a tree, old and broken. He sat down and sighed, his feet dangling off the edge. He groaned and laid down, his head hitting cobbles. He closed his eyes. He remembered his family, it was not so long ago that he was sitting at the table with his brother and sisters, laughing, remembering better days when winters were warmer and falls more plentiful. He wept silently, his body convulsing with sobs. He had nothing now, only his little friend the fur fur. He sat up again. He looked over the edge. Down, down into the surrounding forests and hills. He watched a tear flow down his nose, then fall, crystalline, down down forever down. He adjusted his hood and heard music. It was a man, standing over the dead body of an elf. James looked up the the man with black hair. His face solemn and sad. He returned his gaze to the hills of Imythess. He wept for his lost family. He wept for himself. |
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| Aleister | Thu Oct 22, 2009 5:02 pm Post #3 |
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What was that annoying sound? What was Salvistar doing down. The tiefling boy looked around him, upper lip curling in a snarl. That damn cat was always getting in the way and causing him problems, and now it ran off somewhere again, and what the cat heard, he heard, and the cat heard someone crying, therefore, Aleis heard it too, and it was annoying, and made him angry. He hated that sound. He was lucky he got screams in his head instead of some weak pathetic soul crying. "Salvistar. Where the hell are you?" Aleister hissed, walking away from the dead body of the elf. He glanced to the sky, yellow eyes darkening with anger. "Ezaa, you annoying piece of waste. Get over here and find Salvistar. I want to go sleep." They boy started to grumble under his breath, eyes flicking to watch the small imp flutter through the air, before landing on the cobblestone and running off to search nearby alleys, its quick footsteps making a pattering sound that seemed to resemble rain when it fell. Boots crunched against the ground, until he saw a figure ahead, huddled next to a tree, then saw the black cat that laid on a branch just above the man, watching the weeping figure with a interest. "Worthless cat." He growled. He moved closer to the figure then stopped, looking at the figure that wept with clear disgust in his eyes. "Are you finished yet, monk? That infernal noise is giving me a headache." Aleister hissed, lifting two fingers to rub his left temple as if he had a headache, before he lifted his arm up to the tree where the cat laid. Salvistar looked down at Aleister like he was an idiot, before it hopped down onto the arm and moved quickly to its master shoulder where it sat (at least it was still a young and small cat), claws digging into the clothes Aleis wore, and just barely scraping skin. |
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| James Kenton | Thu Oct 22, 2009 5:42 pm Post #4 |
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James stopped crying, but he did not turn to face his speaker. He only continued staring out across the vast forests and fields and hills surrounding Cascadia. He numbly picked up a sharp rock to his right. It was dark gray, almost black. It was heavy, about the weight of a small cat. He hefted it, stared at it, as if looking for something. He held it out at arms length, and dropped it. He watched it tumble, down, down down. It eventually disappeared into the blackness, past the light of the city. He waited a minute or two in silence. He then heard a sharp crack in the silence. No, he would not jump. It would take to long. He stood, grabbing his staff. His tears were dry, his breathing norm"al. He faced the man with the red hair and a top hat. He had a cat on his shoulde, black as night. The man's eyes were...interesting. "Sorry 'bout that, just a...well never mind what it was. Would you like to get a drink?" he said with a small smile. He needed one at this point. "I know a great pub, not far from here, soft beds, good drink. What do you say?" he raised his eyebrows, as if raising another question. |
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| Aleister | Thu Oct 22, 2009 8:32 pm Post #5 |
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Aleister watched the man, barely amused and figured he'd walk away, but then, this man was dressed as a monk, and the tiefling was very interested in religion, even if the gods of this world could never match up to the Gods of Darkness from his real world, but it didn't mean he couldn't still be interest. Which reminded him, he still needed to give his gods a blood offering today. He peered at the man before him, wondering what his blood was like and thought about maybe using the monks blood, but not if it seems thin and unworthy. He just stared at the man with a blank look for a moment when he was offered to go with him for a drink. What? A brow raised slightly. He didn't even notice when Salvistar jumped from his shoulder to land lightly on the ground and run off. It sounded weird to Aleis how the man asked the question. And he frowned, thinking of Aidne who mistook him for a girl, and he would kill if someone else thought he was a girl. But the thought of a bed was wonderful. He glanced behind him, barely able to make out the fallen form of the mutilated elf. When he looked back at the man, a grin split over his face, and he gestured with his hand in a way for the other man to lead the way. "Lead the way." Aleister, the torturer mage said, his voice soft, the look in his eyes dark, and the smile seeming malicious. |
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| James Kenton | Thu Oct 22, 2009 9:33 pm Post #6 |
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"Ah, just one quick thing." he walked over to where the man had been standing before, over to where to where an elf lay crumpled and dead. He pulled out two small coins from his purse, closed the elf's eyes, and placed the coins on top of them. It was an old gesture, but one that James could never stop doing. James had no right to ask this man why he killed the elf, men had rights to feuds and quarrels. James did not like it, but there was nothing to be done, the man was already dead, and had moved on into the inky blackness of eternal sleep. He walked back to the man, "Let's walk." he began walking toward the bar he had mentioned. It was not that far from here, only about ten blocks away. He walked, staff in hand, walking in a brisk pace. Outside he was calm and collected, inside he was a churning mass of sadness, and self pity. He took deep breaths of the cold night air as he walked, which helped calm him. After a few minutes he had calmed back into his normal state of dispassionate calm. They walked up to the bar, painted blue and glowing somehow faintly in the moonlight. He opened the large black door and walked in. He was hit by the instant warmth of a roaring hearth fire. There were only a few people in the small barroom, three were playing cards, one was in the corner passed out, and four were at the counter, drinking and eating. James walked to an empty stool at the bar, and sat down. He ordered a bottle of their strongest and two glasses. He turned to the man he had walked to the bar with, "So, what might your name be sir?" |
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| Aleister | Mon Oct 26, 2009 3:34 am Post #7 |
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Bros rising again, he watched the man move over to the dead body and put coins over the dead mans eyes. Why would he do that? What was the point? It seemed like a waste of money to Aleis. Did it have something to do with the mans religion? Interest was nagging at him, and he found himself talking to the monk guy as they walked. "Why did you do that? Don't you think its just a waste of money?" He was truly, thoroughly confused. People in this world were so... weird... what was with them all? He followed the man, but always a couple steps behind, staring at the monks back, wondering how he should kill this one and take his blood as an offering to the dark gods. Getting him drunk should be easy, but so would dragging the man aside in an alley and torture him until he's had his fill before killing him, taking his blood and offering it to the gods. But he figured he could get a free drink and room, then may as well put up with the fool for a while before getting rid of him. Heading into the building, Aleister's eyes flicked around, looking everywhere, gaze lingering on the card game as he frowned. He still never understood card games. Again, everything in this world was just confusing. Followed to the bar counter, he sat down on the stool next to the man, looking briefly at the drink the man ordered. "I'll be needing a room for the night." Aleister told the bartender, who nodded and moved off to tell a waitress to ready a room. He then returned his attention to the man, but didn't move his head, just flicked his eyes to look at the man. "Aleister. You?" He returned the question after answering with his name. |
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| James Kenton | Mon Oct 26, 2009 11:17 pm Post #8 |
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"James." he said simply. He was so used to saying 'Brother Kenton' but, recently that had been torn away. He threw back another shot and gazed around the bar. He heard snores from upstairs, creaking floorboards, sounds of an old inn. He placed a few silver on the bar, pointed to the innkeeper, then pointed upstairs, the innkeeper nodded and shuffled away with the bottle of clear liquid and two glasses. He placed another coin on the bar with a soft click, and asked for a pot of coffee. It was brought out quickly. It was not good, but it would keep him awake. He did not like to sleep, at least he did not like to sleep now, he had too much to think about. So, he wanted as much time to think about it as possible. "So, what brings you to Imythess, and Cascadia?" he knew the man was not a local to Imythess. He knew not of the old, old custom of placing a coin on each eye. He looked at his hands as he spoke. They were pale, pale from years of writing in dark rooms, yet tan from reading out of doors. He took a sip of coffee, warm and smooth against his throat. He coughed once, and sniffed, and looked at his new acquaintance in the eyes. |
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| Aleister | Thu Oct 29, 2009 6:33 pm Post #9 |
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James. He was surprised the name wasn't Aiden like everyone else he seemed to meet in Cascadia. He ordered a red wine. The bartender brought it shortly, and Aleis didn't take a drink of it immediately, but merely looked at the red liquid, thinking briefly of how it resembles in blood. He licked his lips, before he took a drink of the wine. Noise wrinkling slightly at the strange taste the wine had. He still wasn't used to this strange stuff. "So, what brings you to Imythess, and Cascadia? "Work, mainly. And I'm studying, magic mainly." Aleister answered the man, taking another sip of the wine. Hoping he'd be able to hold his liquor today. He lazily looked at the monk like man who was staring at him. "You never answered my question. Of why you wasted coins on a dead man." He said, thinking about it again. It was a bit annoying. Aleister had started a well chain of killing people, it sent the guards reeling, the victims have no connections to the killer, but Aleister bet that they at least figured out that there was similarity and done by the same person, and James putting coins on the elf will probably make the guards think that there's another killer, or that Aleis is a religious freak. Though, Aleister was already really into religion, he took blood from his victims and offered it to his gods and prayed daily, but it just annoyed him slightly his style was messed up slightly by the man. He turned his eyes away from the man, back to the drink as he waited for an answer. |
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| James Kenton | Thu Oct 29, 2009 6:49 pm Post #10 |
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"Just an old habit. I used to be a monk, but that was a long time ago. And that was not even money, just lead weights. I have almost no money." he shrugged and took a sip of coffee. Business, what kind of buisiness. He was an assasin perhaps, a contract killer, maybe a merc. James had no idea, and did not want to know. He sipped his coffe. "So, tell me a little about yourself Aleistar. If you would be so kind" he looked at the man with the wine as red as blood and awaited his answer intently. He wanted to figure out why this man was really here, and what he intented to do, if he did intend to do anything, that is. |
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| Aleister | Thu Oct 29, 2009 11:54 pm Post #11 |
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"Just an old habit. I used to be a monk, but that was a long time ago. And that was not even money, just lead weights. I have almost no money." What? Aleister frowned, still utterly confused by it, but he didn't inquire further about it, maybe he would go to the library and look the religions up around here, and other details like that, it was time he started to do more studying, he was slacking on his studies, and putting work before that, which wasn't good, how was he going to become good at anything if he kept this up. "So, tell me a little about yourself Aleistar. If you would be so kind" Aleister laughed. "What's to know? I'm seventeen years old, I come from an entirely different world, I'm a tiefling, and I'm a mage and torturer in training. I torture and kill for money. I worship the dark gods from my world and offer up blood offerings to them daily." His voice was serious, though he never once looked at the ex-monk. "And I plan to tear you to shreds, take your blood, and offer it to my gods to please them." Then, the tiefling boy looked at the older man, a wide grin splitting over his face. "So, whenever your ready, start running and screaming, or pray to your gods, or whatever it is you worms do before death." Though, he wasn't sure if the man would take him seriously or not. The man could be just thinking that Aleister was just merely joking, which of course, Aleis would never joke about such things. |
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| James Kenton | Fri Oct 30, 2009 6:31 pm Post #12 |
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At the word torture James stiffened. He felt a cold fist grip at his stomach, and he set his coffee down. He stared at the dark liquid, watching his reflection. His mind was full of tumultuous thoughts of death and destruction. He thought of his family, friends, dead. He had nothing to live for but himself. This man was a threat and quite an odd youth. James took a few more sips of coffee in silence. In a burst of amazing speed he threw the coffee cup, still filled with hot liquid at the boy's face. He then grabbed his staff, and swinging it with both hands like a club, directed it at the boy's head. He would put up a fight. Most likely he would die, and if he did die it would be painful and horrible. But he would fight, he was no worm, and he were no gods to pray to. He would not cry, nor run, nor weep. He would fight. |
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| Aleister | Fri Oct 30, 2009 7:42 pm Post #13 |
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His eyes went wide as he just barely saw the movement the monk made, and before he knew it, the burning hot coffee splashed over Aleister's face. He fell back, falling off the seat and hitting the ground, the air blowing out of his lungs. He coughed, and lifted his hands, rubbing his eyes. It hurt, it burned. Getting most of it out of his eyes, he glared from the ground up at the monk. The drink dripped from his face, when it had reached his eyes, it ruined the bit of eye make-up he wore, smearing it, only the tattoo over his right eye was fine. A snarl pulled at his lips. When the staff came crashing towards his head, Aleister quickly rolled out of the way, jumped to his feet, and swung a kick out towards James, needing to distance himself more. Everything in the tavern went silent the moment the fight had broken out, there some cries of surprise, some people getting out the way, some even placing bets. The bartender was saying something, probably yelling at them to get out, but Aleister didn't hear, the noise in his head was so loud at that moment. "You bastard. You ruined my face. Your lucky that drink will only leave minor burns." He growled. When he was at a reasonable distance, he held out his hand towards the man, pointing at him, his hand covered in a dark mist, while also whispering words, soon a bolt of dark energy shot out towards James, the spell casted called Black Bolt. |
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| James Kenton | Fri Oct 30, 2009 8:39 pm Post #14 |
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James was thrown across the bar, into the wall of the bar. He was filled with a sudden cold, and a pain that surrounded the point of impact on his chest. He struggled to right himself. Screams could be heard throughout the bar, and people ran for the door. Soon, all of the inhabitants of the building had left, even the owner. James stood, leaning on his staff. He swore, this little bastard had strong magic. "Dammit child. You are strong, I can give you that." He grabbed a near by bottle of liquor, clean and clear like water. He took a long sip, and ripped a piece of cloth off of the table cloth. He shoved one end into the bottle, and turned it upside down. He then lit the end of the cloth with a candle on a nearby table. He hefted the liquor lantern for a moment, and threw it amazingly fast, at the torso of the man. If it hit, he would be set aflame. If he missed, the ground around him would be set aflame. James then picked up a chair and threw it at the man. If he was going to die, he would give the man a few injuries before he left. |
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