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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 14:15:57 GMT
The Queen sat up straight and balanced the chalice on the arm of her chair. "We are no different, Lector, you and I. We are both broken and defeated; I could tell as you first approached."
Lector scoffed and shook his head, causing Cornelia to lean forward, her golden eyes shimmering in the flickering candlelight.
"We're both slaves to a higher power. We're both destined to be greater than what we are right now, right this second. We have a fire, a passion, a rage that when unleashed, will all consuming and unstoppable."
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 14:17:12 GMT
Lector looked across at her. He could see the excitement etched onto her face. He could see the fire in her eyes and feel its heat radiate out from her very core. She captivated him but he refused to let it show.
He leaned forward as she did. Cornelia took a sip of her drink. She paused to savour its sweet, rich taste, and then stood. She shrugged her armoured shoulders and moved to his side of the table.
She leaned against it and looked down at him.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 14:18:44 GMT
Lector huffed and sat back in his chair to get a better look at her. She sat there, her skin as blood smeared and muddy. Her black, webbed armour was scratched and dented; each nick and blemish held a meaning and an air of perfection.
One by one, the candles that lit the room began to fade, their light consumed by the demons that inhabited the shadows. Cornelia moved away from the table; her face etched with a seriousness that echoed the tone of her voice.
"Let me tell you a story…" as she licked the blood on her finger
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 14:39:47 GMT
Lector slept in the barracks that night, haunted by the chilling stare of that woman whenever he closed his eyes. The barracks was empty except for him. The former occupants now sleep on the battlefield. He summons Ryful again to drown out the moaning of the dying. "You should join this army of her's. It suits your taste." Ryful snarls with sarcasm.
"I hate the rain." Lector deflects the remark. The barracks was engulfed in darkness. His fur was dark as the night except the occasional metallic lining in his mane. His fangs glistened in the night as a beckon of death for anyone foolish enough to approach his master at night. His claws hidden under his paws, ready to be unsheathed as a moment's notice. That brought comfort to Lector as he dozed off into the night.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 14:52:17 GMT
The sunlight pulls him from his slumber once again. He wished he had picked the other side of the barracks so he could have slept a little while longer. But he is quickly greeted with the stench of rotting flesh and remembers why he didn't want to stay here any longer. The rain during the night only made matters worse. It was still early, the morning dew sliced sunlight into a million ray. All of which seemed to sting his eyes. The smell outside was suffocating. Much worse when a wounded soldier walked by. The guards stood upright unaffected by the smell or their wounded comrades. "Halt! Where are you going?" Guard bellows from his tower. "I need to get some fresh air." The gate opens and Lector slips out hoping to never run into that self proclaimed queen again.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 15:02:00 GMT
Half a day passes and the smell of rotting flesh finally leaves his nostrils. He turns to Ryful and Ryful nods back. "There's a boar up ahead. It'll make a fine meal." "Where?" Ryful rolls his eyes and breaks into a charge. He pounces the boar, sinking his teeth into it's neck as he dig his claws into it's body. Blood pours out of its body as its futile struggles turns into lifeless jerks.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 15:15:28 GMT
All this talk about passion and ambition has detracted Lector from his true goal. He leans against a rock enjoying some roasted boar thighs. "We should find an inn tonight. I'm tired of those terrible sleeping conditions." Ryful nods back. "I could really go for some mead and goat cheese too." Lector stretches as a warm breeze passing by sweeps away his worries. He lets out a sigh of relief, feeling like himself again.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 17:37:05 GMT
“Bandits approaching!” roared Ryful. Lector spins around as a piece of boar meat falls off the bone and into his lap. There were 2 bandits wearing rusty armor approaching. An Orc with a gauged out eye pull out his longbow and readies an arrow. By the way he handles his bow, he looked like he was once a fine marksman. The fresh wound on his eye stung as he tried to aim with his missing eye. Overcome with rage he open his mouth to yell brandishing his blackened teeth and saliva. He turns his head to aim with the other eye in an awkward motion.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 17:37:15 GMT
The other bandit was a human, following close behind. His face covered in soot, receding hair-line and showing an eagerness to get his first kill. He swung his sword wildly in front of him hoping it would be sufficient practice to the real thing. An inexperienced fighter at best. He has a maniacally laugh and a limp leg.
The orc let loose his arrow as Lector popped his head over the rock to look. It strikes the rock in front of Lector and misses. He curses a name, probability the one who took his eye.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 17:37:25 GMT
Lector spreads his arms wide and magic circles appear in both hands. They whirl slowly and glow as he brings them together. Grease appears under the bandits's feet. The human falls without even realizing what happened. The orc goes to one knee as he recovers himself and moves slowly out of the grease.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 17:37:36 GMT
As he gets up he is greeted by Ryful's fangs. Ryful went straight for the jugular and the claws dug into his chest just for good measure. The orc's twitching body falls back in the grease. The human struggles to crawl his way out of the grease. His bad leg prevented him from standing up in the grease. As he attempts to get up, he feels something swipe at his throat. He looks down to see his bloodied larynx being crushed on the ground by razor sharp claws. He looks up only to see fangs growling at him before he collapses and breathes his last breath.
Lector approaches the bodies and hoping to find something valuable. Not quite the same as piles of battlefield of corpses, this was more to his taste. His expectations were low given how those bandits were dressed. 50 silvers, just as he thought and some rusty equipment. He pocketed the 50 silvers hoping it'll buy him a nice meal and a room to stay in.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 17:51:09 GMT
He comes across a small town with an inn “The Busty Udders”. I don't judge he thought to himself and walked in. There were only 4 people there including the inn keeper and a waitress. The walls were made of uneven cuts of stone but they looked with sturdy. A round candle chandelier hung in the middle of the room. The air was musky and stagnant. The wooden chairs looks comfy, they had soft animal fur resting on them. The udders were clearly referring to the waitress in the frilled dress and corset. The other customers stared lustfully at her.
“A room and your best mead and food” said Lector as he tossed the blood stained silver on the inn keeper's counter.
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Post by Lector on Aug 29, 2013 13:05:20 GMT
The inn keeper accepted the blood stained coins without hesitation. It was a common sight for him. He points to a table for Lector and tossed him a room key.
"What cha gettin'?" asked the busty waitress as Lector was getting seated. Her bosoms stretched the top of the corset to it's limit, ready to explode.
"Buns" he chokes and clears his throat "umm.. mead, and potatoes with goat cheese."
"It'll be right now." she says cheerfully as she winks at him. She heads together the kitchen with the order as another customer grabs her butt as she walks by. She looks at him with a lustful smile as the inn keeper observes with a stoic expression.
The customer let's out a joyful laugh, spitting out bits of food.
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Post by Lector on Aug 29, 2013 13:15:33 GMT
The other man turns and looks at Lector as if seeking approval for what he just did. Lector looks away, started counting the beams on the ceiling.
He sits back in the chair, snuggling deeper into the fur. I hope they have these in the rooms too thought Lector, amazed at how comfortable they are.
This is life, this is freedom he thought as he recalls his escape from imprisonment.
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Post by Lector on Aug 29, 2013 13:16:49 GMT
[The Escape] Silence. Apart from his labored breathing, there was an absolute stillness hovering in the air.
Lector stood frozen in the niche he'd found, his cold fingers gripping the base of the weathered statue as if at any moment the giant stone would move to betray his location. In between every precious gasp of air he listened intently, not quite brave enough to peek his head out the alcove to scan the vast room.
Was that a footstep? A muffled word floating around the corner? No. There was nothing. Not even an echo drifted to his ears. Only the stillness.
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