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Memories
Topic Started: Sun Dec 27, 2009 10:45 am (125 Views)
Laurella
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Laurella sat at her campfire. Thankfully it was decent weather and the fire was more for comfort and distraction than for the need to relieve the cold, although these days Laurella was almost always cold. The numbness and chill that came after the destruction of her home and place of service rarely left her even though it had been much time since it had happened. As she watched the fire her mind went back to the one time she had gone to visit what was left of it.

"All gone, all destroyed!"she wept to Aria, the little creature sitting at her neck. She was walking down what used to be the road to the Healing Hall in the city of Taras. All around her was death and destruction and the remains of what used to be a beautiful city. She had spent much of her working life in a room in the hall caring for wounded adventurers. Oh the tales she had heard from those adventurers. She had never quiet believed their stories of horror and evil that they had told, but here she was seeing it for real right in front of her. All she wanted was to feel the security of her room once again. She picked up her pace and headed for that room. She was hanging on to the hope that there still might be some of the peace and serenity that she had always found there.

As she walked down the hallway to her room she was in anticipation of what she might find there.
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Praih
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Praih hardly noticed as the door opened. The Star Elf was bent low over an upturned dresser, and was whistling softly to himself as he routed through its contents, searching for a scrap of food to eat. He was like an animal lately, wandering the lands with no desires, no real state of consciousness. Sleep and waking bled together, day and night were one and the same. There was no difference for the Star Elf between reality and dreams. In his waking life, he followed his instincts. He found food when he was hungry, and he found water when he was thirsty, and when he was tired, he found somewhere stable, and he slept. While in his mind, he was wandering the endless plains of Dal Quor, the Plane of the Sleeping. In this dreamworld, he, with the naivety a child watching blue plumes of fire consuming a burning building, simply watched his life pass by him through a screen, from the safety of his own mind.

He wouldn't face the facts; He couldn't. To his family, he was dead. Therefore, to himself, he was dead. He would drag himself through the pitiful existance he had until finally Fate decided to off him, whenever that may be.

But, in the present, Praih was digging through a drawer, searching for food like a wild dog through a rubbish heap. He had found very little in the room, clothing, objects of vanity, small baubles and trinkets for everyday use, but not a scrap of clothing. Had he been mentally present, he might have supposed he had happened upon the room of a woman, but, as he was in his animal-like state of being, he was only disappointed at the lack of foodscraps.
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Laurella
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She reached the room attached to hers first. This was where she had spent so much time caring for those wounded adventurers who had such glorious tales to tell. There was nothing the same. The three beds had been tossed aside and the cabinets had been ransacked. The waste bucket that had not been empty when the attack happened had been tipped over and human waste was spread across the floor. The place was a mess.

She looked to her room and noticed that the door was ajar and it sounded like someone was inside. She heard whistling. Cautiously she approached the door and spoke in non-threatening tones, If someone is in there, I am not here to harm you but I would like to speak with you. Can we talk?" She was prepared to defend herself if the answer was no, but she fervently hoped that it was just a scavenger looking for food or other items left behind after the attack.
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Takhbork Shakh
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The greatest jewel of Imythess, Imyethess' strength, a symbol of hope and advancement. These are but a few of the things that Taras had been called. Now look at it, though, reduced to nothing but an insignificant pile of rubble and ruin.
It was now Imythess' greatest scar. A scar which showed how truly weak the land of Imythess and its peolple were. It was now considered by many to be an ill omen, that warned of far darker and more terrible things yet to come.
The dark vigure, who viewed the ruins with twisted interest, could vaguely recall when they had first began building the city. At least, he thought he could. It was so long ago, that he could not be entirely sure. His memories of his previous life were still muttled and distorted.

It would be ironic, though, if he had indeed wittnessed the birth of Taras, only to be yanked from his dead sleep many hundreds of years later to wittness it in its state of utter ruin. Existance had a more twisted sense of humor than he did...well, maybe. Not that he was much of one for humor.

His former master, a lich named Yakasha, had said that he was funny. Yet, then again, his master usually only said that when he pulled one of his twisted and infernal 'jokes' on him. Curse his bones...

An agitated hiss was emitted from the unseen lips of the shadowy figure. He did not like thinking about his former mentor, if he could be called such. Remembering such things often made him become unfocused.

So, pushing the unpleasant memories to the back of his mind, he moved on. He could not dawdle around there forever. He had work to do in this ruined heap of stone.

Much of the city had indeed been plundered, this was true. However, not everything in the city had been taken yet. For there was still some places that had been spared by the many groups of scum that even now wandered about the city. One of these places was the Taras Library. Books were of little value to the thieves apparently, which was lucky for him.

It was his hope to find something useful there. Something that was magic-oriented. For, since he had abandoned Yakasha, he was always trying to find spell books and information regarding artifacts of power. It was his desire to grow more powerfull in the dark arts.

Now then...if he could only just find the stupid place.

Yes, he was lost, much to his own aggrivation. He had never been inside Taras before and didn't know his way around very well. The fact that the city was now just a pile of charred rocks didn't exactly help either...

The rather happless wraith turned a corner, or what was left of one, and began to go down a slightly crumbled alley. He stopped in his tracks, though, once he saw that the end of the alley was blocked by a tall pile of large rubble. It was, yet again, another dead end.

"Stupid, wretched place...", Shadow uttered under his breath, in a low hiss. He was starting to get ticked off about this whole situation. That was the sixth dead end he had come to.

He turned back around and went back to the crumbled up street. He stopped at the entrance of the deadend alley, to get a look around at his options. The way to his left, which was were the path of the street would have continued to stretch on, was blocked off by the collapsed remains of one (or two?) buildings. He had just come from the right way, and was not keen on the idea of backtracking all that way again. So that was, obviously not an option.

To the front of him, though, there was another alley. That way was only partly blocked off by rubble. It looked like it would be a pretty tight squeeze, though. However, Shadow was not about to give up that easily, especially not after having come all this way. He was going to get to that infernal library, tight squeeze or no!

He made his way over to it, and began to try to force his way through the small space. Everything was going alright up until he was about halfway through the vice of rock, which is when he suddenly hit a snag...literally. Something became caught on the rocks behind him. He tried to yank himself loose, but it just wouldn't give. He was now stuck...

The loud cursing that echoed through the city's ruins are something that one would not be very interested or willing to hear. All I will say is that the cursing must have gone on for about seven mintues, before Shadow finally regained his composure.

"Alright, think, how do I get out of this?"

After thinking to himself, he came to one solution. He wriggled his right hand, with some considerable difficulty, behind him and released a magic missle. The trick worked, almost too well. No only did the resulting explosion of magic get him loose, it threw him face forward into a another pile of rubble. Also, he had destroyed a portion of his black cloak. That was something that would have to be mended later on.

"I haaate this city..." He hissed, his face still against the multitude of upheaved stones.

After getting over the resulting fit of rage, he moved on from there. Fortunately, for him, this alley way was not blocked off like the other. It led to another street, off to the left of which was a large building. It looked only partly collapsed. Apparently it had been one of the few places that had fortunately been spared from the worst of the destruction.

He wasn't sure if it was the Taras Library, there wasn't any visible ( or intact) sign anywhere to be seen. So, he would have to personally go and see. It certainly was large enough to be a library...or a temple?

He then stopped in his tracks. He could smelled smoke. There wasn't much of it, but it was there. He then spotted a small plume of the stuff, trailing out from somwhere within the building. Someone or something was possibly in there.

The wraith hissed with glee. More scavenging scum take his frustrations out on. He would get to use his new toy yet again. A dark, hissing chuckle came from his unseen lips. A twisted smile of cruel delight formed upon his invisible face.

So, feeling more happier than he had a few minutes ago, he began to move silently towards the building. His malicious intent, shining through his glowing red eyes.
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