Author Topic: Kit's Life  (Read 10476 times)

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Offline Johan

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Kit's Life
« Reply #75 on: April 10, 2006, 11:27:10 AM »
The fire from Kossuth's Spike reflected off of the Fogveil Vein's rippling waters as Jarmok sprinted southerly. For once, he did not stop to knock at the door of the herbalist's home; he barged in, throwing the door open noisily and rushing in. He breathed heavily, his hands shaking with adrenaline as he fumbled with Kit's pouch, pressing it into her hands eagerly.

"Kit?" He asked, noting that little in the clinic had changed sine he had left, except that Laren was now cleaning blood from the floor. "Is right pouch, Kit?" He asked, hoping that he hadn't been too slow.

Kit walked close enough to touch the great stag. As she stroked his fur a tear came to her eye.

“Who are you?” she asked in whisper, but as she did, Dray reached out and took her hand, which she then held in earnest.
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Offline Dray

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« Reply #76 on: April 08, 2006, 08:25:21 AM »
The second hour of the early morning was nearly spent. [almost 2am]. Laren missed Jarmok's company. He became weary of only watching Ashe holding Kit, and wanted to something, anything to help.

He decided that if anything were to happen, Ashe's apothecary was only so big, he would know. So he searched for anything that would help him clean the bloody mess around the bed.

He soon found a mop and bucket, and with a quick dip of it in the barrel of water, was whistling as he scrubbed the floor.

Ashe was enthusiastic that this approach would grab Kit’s attention as it had the boy’s. Ashe was unsure if he could speak with the boy as he was a memory of Kit’s. But his presence was noted and her mind was reacting to him. Ashe’s method of communication in this form was telepathic. Being in her mind this might give him a direct path for that telepathy. He could only warn her through the boy for if he spoke with her directly about the impending doom she could get frightened and change her mindscape once again.

Ashe bent his head down and looked into the eyes of the boy. They were eyes of innocence and destiny. It was unknown to Ashe what significance the tattoo on the boy’s back had but he was certain that it was an omen of greatness.

Ashe said to the boy in his mind, “What am I to you human youngling?”

Dray without hesitation projected back a powerful telepathic voice, his voice was strong and confident for one so young, and the power of his mind took Ashe by surprise. “You are a symbol of great power, as am I. And you are here to save my friend Kit from Death, as am I. What do you need me to do Heirophant of The Mind?”

As Dray spoke, Kit started to approach cautiously, stretching her arm out a bit so she too could touch the soft fur.

Ashe nearly shed a tear of joy. There was a part of Kit that wanted to survive and this was a manifestation of that. She was fighting a monstrous force that she did not understand. Alas, her will to live was becoming stronger than the greedy will of the Eye.

Ashe replied, “I need you to hold her hand as she touches me. You are her foundation to survive. Without you she’ll be scattered to the oblivion of greed.”

Ashe was finally getting through. Although his physical body was starting to collapse from exhaustion, his mind remained sharp and intent on its’ mission of salvation.

The last time Ashe had done an intervention of this magnitude it was on his brother. That occasion proved to be greater in it’s difficulty. It was also then that this insidious object of greed was created. Ashe would have destroyed the Eye years ago but since it was born of his deceased brother he felt obligated to let it endure.

Offline Johan

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Kit's Life
« Reply #77 on: April 07, 2006, 04:46:52 PM »
Movement from downstairs brought Jarmok out of his close inspection of the necklace and its attached pendant. Someone had mounted the stairs, and was coming this way.

He didn't have time to explain himself, although he felt much like a thief in the night.

He quickly placed the necklace back into the softened pouch and leaped from the window, landing lightly upon the ground. He tumbled (his shins reminding him of their earlier collision), absorbing the force of the landing, and sprang to his feet in a full sprint across the rosewalk towards the foot, the wolfsong, and south towards Ashe's home.

He took the shortest route, not necessarily staying to the roads, but darting through yards and along the banks of the river as he went. He heart thudded, much like his wings had earlier. Pump, pump, pump. It was several bow shots between the thornhedge and Ashe's home, but his long legs ate the distance efficiently, even as he had to leap over shrubberies and bushes and similar obstacles. Kit needed him, and he flew.
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Offline Dray

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« Reply #78 on: April 07, 2006, 02:19:41 PM »
Jarmok rummaged through the spilled contents as fast as he could without breaking anything.

'Why would anyone require so much?' He wondered.

Finally he came upon a small and extremely worn, dark leather pouch. It was clear to the hunter that this pouch had seen a lot of use. The soft leather was cracked near the edges and worn smooth in the middle. Where the seams were sewn it was still hard and textured. The mouth of the pouch was a little tattered and its drawstring was frayed from too much use.

When he picked up the pouch, the soft scent of jasmine entered his nostrils. Kit clings to this pouch. He thought. Very likely each and every night. It was a likely place and use for a religious affection.

His fingers flew as he loosened the string to the pouch and tilted it upward over a cupped palm. He was rewarded by a small gold necklace. The chain was the finest and frailest he had ever seen; it fed through a symbol no bigger than his thumb. The symbol was that of a dragon in an "S" shape with outspread wings connected to the concave and convex of the top curve.

Offline Johan

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Kit's Life
« Reply #79 on: April 07, 2006, 01:41:17 PM »
Jarmok shook his head from the stunning overload of information that this room conveyed. Kit was in far more need than he had realized. Right now, for a necklace of some sort.

Kit had said that the necklace in question would be on the nightstand, hadn't she? There was none there. Jarmok began to panic a little. If this little trinket would save his hunka-sister's life, he needed it. Why was it not where she had said it would be?!?

Perhaps in the drawer? He lunged at the delicate-looking and overflowing nightstand and hauled at the knob on the drawer. Given the packed state of the drawer, he had imagined that there would have been more resistance to its slide, but there was not.

The contents of the drawer spilled to the floor noisily and he was left holding the upturned, empty drawer by its knob. He cast the drawer upon the bed and searched through the pile that was now on the floor. He realized that he didn't even really know what he was looking for, apart from it being a necklace. Be there, be there. He thought forcibly.
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Offline Dray

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« Reply #80 on: April 07, 2006, 12:32:49 PM »
Jarmok lifted himself off the floor, shards of glass stuck to him and his armor, which he quickly brushed off onto the floor.

Assured he was not bleeding to death, he quickly examined the room. Jarmok was not sure what he expected to find after he had crashed through the window, but had he asked himself, this discovery would not have been even close to his answer.

The bed had been moved to the center of the room since his last visit when the window had shattered that day less than two weeks ago. This was a discovery he had learned the hard way. With his keen vision in the darkness he could see that the oak posts of the bed left a long scratch on the floor from the wall. The sheets, the pillow and winter blanket instead of being on the bed were peaking out from underneath it.

'She sleeps under bed'. Jarmok thought.

Around the bed was organized chaos. He scanned the room quickly in only a passing interest, his target the nightstand.

Crumpled and torn pieces of parchment was the most evident form of litter, not a single section of the room was without at least two or three neat piles of it. From what he could tell, each one had the girls written words and drawings on them, what she was spending all her time writing about Jarmok did not know.

Some of the stacks of parchment sat upon or near the many towering piles of folded clothing. Jarmok thought with a quick half smile that the amount of dresses, skirts, blouses, tunics, belts, boots, pants and other articles could fully cloth half of Threshold.

An unfinished plate of food sat in the left corner, most likely a dinner she forgot to put in the hall when she left the previous morning for their journey.

A desk to his left near the door behind him was cluttered now with materials and tools of the tailoring trade. Near it was a pile of clothes that she appeared to have been altering. Beside this pile was a lute, he didn?t know she could play the loot. On second look he realized it was unstrung.

'Hrung. Perhaps she couldn't'.

All this was only a passing glance and almost forgotten when he looked at the wall to his right. His heart sank with the portent on what he now gazed upon.

The entire windowless wall had been painted with a crude image of a dragon in full flight. It was an aerial view as if someone were above it looking down at its back. Although crude, it was incredible in its scope, the extended wings spanning the entire wall. Below the right wing were names carved into the wall, apparently carved by the gold-tinted dagger that now stuck to it, it's blade a full inch into the wood. The names crossed out multiple times by slashing cuts were Markell and Jordan. Two names under which were not slashed. Drakyr and Leech. Jarmok recognized the names spoken at the fire that night, they were the names of the murderers of her parents.

A spattering of dried blood was splayed over all the names, and dozens of exhausted candles stood below the mural, giving the entire wall the semblance of a shrine.

The nightstand, his goal, had been moved adjacent to the head of the bed, on the side of which he stood. He just only just discovered this target, as it was covered a stack of blank parchment. The top draw so overflowing of items that it stood forever half open. A large grooming kit sticking out the top of it, cradled by more tailoring tools, half empty vials of ink, rolls or parchment and about a dozen female objects Jarmok couldn't identify.

The cluttered and messy room conveyed the feel of a temple to sacred loneliness, isolated upon an isle of fear.

Offline Johan

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Kit's Life
« Reply #81 on: April 07, 2006, 09:31:08 AM »
The fleet falcon's form was a bit more of a challenge than the night bird had been. The night bird had been maneuverable, but very stable. Jarmok had observed these animals in flight, and knew that they were faster and could make sharper turns than any other bird that he had seen, but apparently that speed and maneuverability had a price, and that price was stability.

The merest flick of his tail sent him careening in the wrong direction. Still over the fogveil, and still with considerable speed, but that made it worse. He became off course faster, and thereby further. He clenched his tail sharply and found himself flying straight as a bolt from a crossbow.

He cursed his own stupidity. Now was not the time to learn the nuances of a new form, although it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

He concentrated as best he could, flicking himself gently towards the thornhedge. He also hadn't counted upon the falcon's poor night vision; somehow he hadn't thought at all that such a diurnal creature would not see as well as he himself could through the starry night.

But he did know where he was going. A hundred mornings and as many nights padding through Threshold had given him a keen sense of where what was, and now he relied fully upon that sense.

The thornhedge reared before him, an inky, flat shadow in the night. So early in the morning, he knew that the front door would be locked and barred from within; he didn't have time to await Keltan to rise to pounding upon that thick oaken door.

Jarmok spread wide his tail and pushed it upward. His nose elevated and he rolled upwards, trying to gauge the location of the newly repaired window to Kit's room. There was folly in this plan, he knew, but the risk needed to be taken and his 10 wisdom was not sufficient to overtake his zeal for speed.

He flexed his wings...pump, pump, pump...and eyed his glass target, much like aiming his arrow at his prey...pump, pump. He held his breath...pump...and came gracefully around, out of his roll...pump.

The moment before he hit the window he released his form, shimmering back into the lean outlander form that Mahiya had first made for him.

Glass shattered in a deafening crescendo and Jarmok ungracefully tumbled across the floor of the room. He tried to tumble to his feet, and his shins banged painfully into some tallish, solid and heavy obstruction. He fell forward, tumbling chaotically and slamming into the door on the far wall.

Shaking his head, he surveyed the room, his eyes now collecting so much more of the present light than his falcon form had.
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Offline Dray

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Kit's Life
« Reply #82 on: April 05, 2006, 06:54:52 PM »
Kit was quiet, no longer chatty with the ghosts in the room. Laren watched over her while Ashe stayed in his motionless stare.

As he approached the pond, he watched as the boy, ignorant to his presence climbed out of the pond and climbed the boulder aside it. Dripping wet and in nothing but his lower undergarment, he was about to jump back in. What caught Ashe’s attention was the incredible tattoo the young lad had. Although the child did not appear much older than Kit, someone had painstakingly detailed a fine piece of artwork across his entire upper back. It was clearly an aerial view of a great platinum dragon in full flight, as if the viewer were flying above. The wings tips reached the tops of his shoulders, the tail reach his lower back.

It was magnificent, and more importantly very detailed in Kit’s mind. Ashe deducted that it must be something the boy possessed in the real world, and therefore, of great meaning.

“Boulder-drop or river-spike?” he asked someone on the other side of the rock he stood upon.

“Can’t you see I am enjoying the sun?” Kit said with a giggle.

“Boulder-drop it is!” the boy said, and jumped into the pond, very close to where she lay. His intent realized, water splashed all over the surrounding area.

“You son of a goblin!” Kit cursed with a laugh.

The boy swam two feet towards the shore and stood up, as he did so he caught full gaze of Ashe in his golden stag form. The boy was paralyzed with awe. Unfortunately, Kit appeared from the other side of the rock and body tackled him in the water.

The two went tumbling back into the drink.

As they resurfaced, Kit giggling with the play, the boy was slightly choking on water as he said, “Kit!.....Kit!....Look!” he barked loudly as he pointed.

Standing half in the water beside her friend, dripping wet and wearing nothing but her undergarments, Kit followed direction and became equally dumbfounded.

Ashe knew this would be his chance, he walked slowly up to the pond’s edge and only two body lengths away.

Kit had put her hands up to her mouth. “It is so beautiful Dray. Where did he come from?” she asked.

“I don’t know Kitalia.” Dray said as he cautiously approached Ashe with a hand that had slowly reached out to touch the great stag.

Ashe waited cautiously and made no move to startle the young lad. After what seemed an eternity, his intended target stroked his mane.


Offline Johan

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« Reply #83 on: April 05, 2006, 01:25:19 PM »
Blood-soaked and frantic, Jarmok rushed from Ashe's little home. Outside, the cool night are refreshed him forcibly. In a moment, a peregrine falcon winged over the fogviel towards the Thornhedge inn.
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Offline Griznuq

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« Reply #84 on: April 05, 2006, 12:24:39 PM »
"Yes," Laren said. "If only you could fly."

Laren got the requested pillows and propped his friend upon them as best he could. Then there was nothing that he could do but to wait.

When her world reformed Ashe found himself in the woods, most likely near her home. He quickly looked around, just as he scanned a pond that was in a clearing a few hundred feet away he saw a young lad jump off a boulder and into it.

Ashe was the great golden stag. This was both a good sign and a bad one. Good that he instinctually had projected the image of his avatar within her world, and bad that she did not have the strength to project one for him.

The lad was now in the water, and although he could not see Kit, he knew she was there. For the pond that was at a higher elevation and surrounded with boulders had a very well defined image in her psyche, while the trees he was in were blurred.

Ashe was irritated that his attempt to befriend her had failed. He still had time to save her though. The power he had within her mind was growing. Perhaps he should just tell her the truth.

The Eye of Portence was an article of greed. It wanted to take her soul and use it for its’ own power. Ashe was well aware of its designs and would not let it take her.

He wondered what he would use as an anchor. There was nothing outstanding that would keep her focused…except the boy. This boy was obviously someone from her past. He must have had some importance to Kit otherwise he would not be remembered so vividly.

Ashe had to get the attention of the boy. Walking out would probably suffice since  golden stags were revered throughout Elsenban including Xanthakos.

Ashe walked out towards the pond to take a drink. As he did, he listened close to the boy and more importantly, for Kit.

=]V[=

Offline Wildfire

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« Reply #85 on: April 05, 2006, 12:16:04 PM »
Ashe continued to concentrate on Kit and whispered, "She's not ready yet for the potion. I'm doing all I can to save her though. Laren get the pillows from the other beds and prop Kit up with them. Jarmok, get her necklace from her nightstand as she asked. Be back as soon as possible...fly if you have too. Perhaps Paladine will see fit to protect her..."

Ashe voice trailed away and he looked to be getting exhausted.
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Offline Griznuq

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« Reply #86 on: April 05, 2006, 11:23:49 AM »
Laren's face remained calm, but his eyes betrayed his concern. He waited for the go ahead from Ashe.

Kit looked at the outstretched hand and neglected to take it, without warning she smiled with great mischief. “Who’s Kyle? What disease?” she asked. Ashe’s heart sank, Kit’s spirit was looking straight through the mind’s image of the man with the broad rimmed leather hat. Kit’s spirit was gazing straight into his own, taunting him.

Ashe was surprised at the mischief that was being played. He wanted to yell in frustration but that would make her retreat away. So, he had to bribe her and hopefully she would take the bait.

“I’ll tell you all about Kyle and the disease as soon as we get your necklace.” Ashe didn’t want this to break down into a verbal parry as it would waste time she didn’t have. Children would ask questions all day if given the chance. He had to not give her the chance. Instead he would offer rewards for deeds well done. Time was continuously slipping away.

Ashe noted that Kit had stopped talking in the outside world.

“But I don’t understand,” Kit continued, still not taking his hand, “how could I have helped you with something? We just met.” She stated in a surprisingly sarcastic tone. She also stopped her coy mischief and had taken a quick stance of defiance, one that did not match her age in this landscape. It was a knowing and challenging glare she had turned upon him.

The look upon her face made Ashe take a mental step backwards. Something was amiss.

Ashe realized that her mind was catching up with her soul. She was remembering recent events and that she would soon realize the truth.

Thinking quickly Ashe said, “That is one of the things that I will eventually teach you. Now let’s go get the necklace. I’m sure that your Dad would be happy to see you wear it.” Ashe again held out his hand for her to take it. He couldn’t leave her alone for fear that her parents would arrive to escort her away.

Recognition swept across Kit’s face, she looked upon Ashe with first familiarity, then sudden fear.

“No! I don’t want to go with you!”

Before Ashe could react the surroundings of Kit’s world shifted and melded into an array of dark colors. Kit disappeared from his vision and then for a moment, all went black.
=]V[=

Offline Johan

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« Reply #87 on: April 05, 2006, 11:20:17 AM »
Jarmok jerked a bit, startled at the request. "Hrung." He grunted. "As soon as can." He promised, looking at Laren quizzically. He glanced at Ashe to see if the herbalist would indicate that it was yet time to infuse Kit with the white potion that Laren yet held at the ready.

Ashe was getting frustrated at the tenacity of her soul. It was fully prepared to enter Paladine’s embrace. Ashe, however, was not prepared to let her go. This would not be a natural death and her soul would not go to Paladine. If her soul was to leave on this particular occasion it would be imprisoned within the crystal. The crystal was greedy and it wanted her soul.

Ashe replied, “I’m sure we’ll hear the horses when they arrive. Besides, your parents know that I’m here…they know to look for us.” Ashe stood up and extended his hand. “Here, take my hand and lead me to your necklace. We’ll keep a sharp ear out for your Mom and Dad.” Ashe tried to sound convincing using a tone with Kit that he had used with his own children. He didn’t want to be overly stern but he had to let her know that he was in control…even though his control in her world was limited.

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Offline Dray

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« Reply #88 on: April 05, 2006, 10:57:13 AM »
After yet another long moment of silence Kit once again spooked her two friends, she spoke as if addressing them.

"Jarmok, could you get me my necklace from my Nightstand in my room? Paladine will offer me protection." Her voice was no longer the ethereal whisper it had been, but very casual, as if she had awakened without opening her eyes. Laren wondered if she could indeed swallow the water in her current state.

“Could you get it for me Sir? I must not take my eyes off the road or else risk not be ready for when my parents arrive.” Kit said.

“My bedroom is straight through the common room, the necklace is on a nightstand.”

Offline Dray

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« Reply #89 on: April 03, 2006, 12:55:53 PM »
Laren and Jarmok looked at one another but said nothing, they merely both wondered if she was again delusional in her condition. They waited a bit unpatiently, fidgeting anxiously while more precious moments passed, Laren's grip on the top of the decanter tightened till his knuckles turned white. Jarmok reached out and tapped Laren's hand, bidding him to loosen his grip.

"It's really pretty, what does the symbol mean?" Kit asked, once again speaking in the ethereal whisper. Jarmok and Laren in unison shot a look to the girl, who seemed to be having a conversation with no one in the room.

“It’s really pretty, what does the symbol mean?” kit asked Ashe with a pleasant smile. Ashe was startled by how much he wanted to take this girl in his arms and hold her close and away from danger. He was losing himself to the charms of the young girl, his heart aching for her safety, for her freedom from not only this nightmare, but all the pain she ever experienced.

Ashe shrugged off his own emotion, he needed her to focus on something that was important to her. He had to steer the conversation to what would become an anchor for her mind to pull her soul back from beyond.

He had his own personal difficulties with this concept because it could be considered a disruption to the natural cycle of life. A part of him felt that he was betraying the natural course of events. Another part of him felt that he was an extension of Mahiya’s ability to breath life into everything and that he was simply helping to keep that life going. Either way, he felt that trying to save her was the right thing. If he was wrong then he’d be willing to face that judgment.

“This, Kit, is my symbol of Mahiya. Mahiya is the god of all that is the natural world. The mountains, flowers, rivers, the sky, the moons…” Ashe said in a scholarly way. He knew so much on the subject but had to refrain from confusing her with things that were not relevant to the situation.

He needed to get her back on track. She needed to be focused. “Do you have a symbol that means a lot to you?” he asked.

“I do!” Kit exclaimed with great joy. “My daddy gave me a necklace with a pendant of Paladine upon it. We quietly worship him in our home for he makes all that is good in this world come to pass.”

Kit, who stood in a pretty summer dress of white cloth put her hands behind her back and swung her shoulders back and forth lightly. The light of Kossuth illuminated her beautiful blonde hair and radiated her persona. All these were good signs Ashe thought, for this girl’s spirit must truly be strong.

“So I am to be tutored by a Priest of Mahiya then?” she asked with a smile.

Ashe could sense that something was trying to pull her away. She kept switching the subject and inadvertently avoided getting her necklace. She was vastly unaware of her attempts but Ashe had to be firm and press the subject.

“Well, yes you are. I have a great respect for Paladine as well so don’t you worry. Paladine does many great things. One of them is watching out for you. Your necklace sounds very beautiful…just like you. May I see it glimmer in the light?” Ashe hoped this would prompt Kit to get the medallion so that she could be held here long enough for him to save her. The situation of reality was pressing on Ashe like a vice. He knew he’d never forgive himself if couldn’t save her. Hopefully Mahiya would.