Post by Zatanna on Sept 17, 2004 23:53:58 GMT
In the deserted plains stands an ancient tree, its gnarled limbs writhing upwards, grasping futilely for an extension to its overextended life. Upon the tree sits the black forms of scavenger birds. Their malicious calls croaking intermittantly. Their gaze scan the plains with their beady stare. Off in the distance a wisp of smoke meanders its way into the clouds catching the eyes of the gathered birds. With a cacophony of calls, they rise into the air making their way to the source of the smoke. The feathers rustle softly as the distance is closed swiftly with its powerful wings.
Like a beacon, the thin wisp of smoke on the horizon attracts many of its kind from different directions. The air turns black as the mob of birds descends onto the remnants of a small village. The air itself is hazy as the heat from the fires distort the brutal image of the carnage laid out on the ground. The fires smolder in what was left of the houses of the plains folk. In one area a large building sits toppled. The flames dying down around what was left of what must have been a church of some kind. Near to the ruins of the church can be seen the remains of a large gauntleted hand with perhaps an eye in its palm still burning brightly.
The stench of flesh burning attracts many of the birds to their grisly location. Some catch the currents of festering air so that they may look upon the vista spread out under them. Croaking almost gleefully they ascend and descend over the ruins. Over the scavengers wailing, the crackling of the embers and the wind blowing tirelessly can be heard something that seems surreal, given the nature of the situation.
Laughter. A childs laughter to be more precise. A sound that contradicts forcefully the nightmare of what has happened here. The heads of the scavengers thingy to one side as though they understand the strangeness of it. They do not ponder it long however. Some take flight far enough to pinpoint the location of this blasphemous sound of their field-day. They descend swiftly and see a small female human child, covered in deep cuts and burning in many places. And still moving. Through their avian minds they seem to know that no sound should escape her lips. Yet, she is alive. And laughing even louder now.Her eyes blink blindly with an ecstatic gleem in the light of the fires surrounding her. Her small body convulsing with little effort as she bellows her laughter. The pain she must feel is excrutiating, yet, here she is... enjoying it?
The scavengers true to their namesake start to descend upon her tiny shattered body. As they start their grisly feast the air itself turns cold. Some of the birds take flight leaving the more bold of their lot to continue. The childs laughter grows louder. The air grows even more chilled. Croaking their defiance the scavengers flutter their wings intent on their easy meal.
Through the distortion of heat and smoke can be seen a figure walking nonchalantly towards where the child is being picked apart. The childs laughter continues as the figure stops near enough to look closely upon the childs form but not near enough to disturb the scavengers. The beady eyes of the scavengers flicker to the figure, almost daring the figure to come closer. The figure itself crosses their arms as though enjoying the disgusting ritual. As the laughter of the child reaches an ecstatic peak, the figure with the crossed arms seems to heave a loud sigh, almost echoing the pleasure of the strange childs reaction. The figure moves closer, the form of a beautiful woman in an almost blinding robe of white trimmed with red can be seen clearly now. More of the scavengers take flight leaving two or three to croak out their own defiance at the newcomer. The woman seems to smile at their defiance, and calmly stands a few feet away from where the child lies. The incessant pain being inflicted on the child seems to be too much. But, the laughter continues and starts to spasm. Almost the sound of a hiccough then the laughter starts anew, then another spasm gasping for air. The woman seems to smirk and raises her knuckle to her mouth to bite sofly, almost reveling in the terrible scene. As the laughter turns into a wet, gutteral wheezing, the woman speaks "You have had your fill now beasts. You will leave now." At that the scavengers take flight all but one.
The remaining bird hops onto the chest of the child so that its beady eyes gaze maliciously at her and resumes its feast. With a slight chuckle she smirks and says "So be it." Giving the bird a wink starts the transformation. The bird writhes and bubbles, its skin being turned inside out. The glistening mass that is the birds innards convulse still with life. The shrieking calls of its torment add to the childs hideous, gasping laughter.
The woman looks on smiling at the birds predicament, almost forgetting the child. She turns back to the child and studies the small form. "You, young one, who have not known life for long, know the enlightenment that only pain may bestow upon you." She stretches out her arms, "In all this barren wasteland, there is nothing here but pain. Nothing here but suffering. You have learned, in your few years of life what many never learn in their whole life. " She bends down slowly, brushing the burned hair away from the young face and says smiling "Within this world there are many things to learn, some emphasize various things that some call truths that you will need to sort out on your own volition." At that, the laughter stops abruptly although the gasping continues as though the child is listening to every word. The woman continues. "There is only one real truth that one need know. Everyone, be they with someone or is alone, as you are now." Looks down smiling, "feels pain in there own individual way. Only the enlightened, as you are My child," leans down kissing the childs burned forehead, "know the delight that only comes from that one truth." The child starts to cough heavily, bits of bloody sputum stain her lips as her body convulses in her death throes. The woman chuckles, "No, my child, it is not your time just yet. There is much more that you may learn and teach. Those who have been to the edge of the void through exquisite pain cannot deny others the chance of that particular experience. You, who have served me so well without knowing through your short, life I grant you a proper chance to learn what pain can truely bring." The woman places her hand upon the childs chest a moment before she has breathed her last, letting the child go to the brink of death to then bring her back so she may instruct others of the truth the woman laid out.
In what seemed like an instant the woman brings forth the sleeping child, now healed in body to the gates of a white walled monestary. The doors open at her approach. Monks in robes of blazing white with red trim of both genders stand with their heads reverently lowered. She speaks "This child has much to offer," she smirks, "She will be able to learn my teachings to a greater degree than even the best of you. She is to be shown no special treatment." The woman chuckles softly changing her mind, "Perhaps, be harder on her than any others who have been here." The woman looks down on the child sleeping soundly, " She," the woman smirks, "will be able to take whatever you can give her, this I know." The monks nearby start to pick up the child from the woman. "Wait!" She commands. The monks dutifully obey. The woman leans down to the back of the childs head and kisses her there softly. Those monks closest to the scene see a mark of a whip with nine tails underneath the nape of her neck. "Now she is ready to continue her lessons. " The monks prostrate themselves before the woman and say in chorus, "We do as you wish, Loviatar, Mistress of pain"
I had a long while away due to comp. issues and thought a backstory to my char was in order. Not sure if anyone will remember her but I hope you enjoy the story. And I hope to see you in game
Take care!
Like a beacon, the thin wisp of smoke on the horizon attracts many of its kind from different directions. The air turns black as the mob of birds descends onto the remnants of a small village. The air itself is hazy as the heat from the fires distort the brutal image of the carnage laid out on the ground. The fires smolder in what was left of the houses of the plains folk. In one area a large building sits toppled. The flames dying down around what was left of what must have been a church of some kind. Near to the ruins of the church can be seen the remains of a large gauntleted hand with perhaps an eye in its palm still burning brightly.
The stench of flesh burning attracts many of the birds to their grisly location. Some catch the currents of festering air so that they may look upon the vista spread out under them. Croaking almost gleefully they ascend and descend over the ruins. Over the scavengers wailing, the crackling of the embers and the wind blowing tirelessly can be heard something that seems surreal, given the nature of the situation.
Laughter. A childs laughter to be more precise. A sound that contradicts forcefully the nightmare of what has happened here. The heads of the scavengers thingy to one side as though they understand the strangeness of it. They do not ponder it long however. Some take flight far enough to pinpoint the location of this blasphemous sound of their field-day. They descend swiftly and see a small female human child, covered in deep cuts and burning in many places. And still moving. Through their avian minds they seem to know that no sound should escape her lips. Yet, she is alive. And laughing even louder now.Her eyes blink blindly with an ecstatic gleem in the light of the fires surrounding her. Her small body convulsing with little effort as she bellows her laughter. The pain she must feel is excrutiating, yet, here she is... enjoying it?
The scavengers true to their namesake start to descend upon her tiny shattered body. As they start their grisly feast the air itself turns cold. Some of the birds take flight leaving the more bold of their lot to continue. The childs laughter grows louder. The air grows even more chilled. Croaking their defiance the scavengers flutter their wings intent on their easy meal.
Through the distortion of heat and smoke can be seen a figure walking nonchalantly towards where the child is being picked apart. The childs laughter continues as the figure stops near enough to look closely upon the childs form but not near enough to disturb the scavengers. The beady eyes of the scavengers flicker to the figure, almost daring the figure to come closer. The figure itself crosses their arms as though enjoying the disgusting ritual. As the laughter of the child reaches an ecstatic peak, the figure with the crossed arms seems to heave a loud sigh, almost echoing the pleasure of the strange childs reaction. The figure moves closer, the form of a beautiful woman in an almost blinding robe of white trimmed with red can be seen clearly now. More of the scavengers take flight leaving two or three to croak out their own defiance at the newcomer. The woman seems to smile at their defiance, and calmly stands a few feet away from where the child lies. The incessant pain being inflicted on the child seems to be too much. But, the laughter continues and starts to spasm. Almost the sound of a hiccough then the laughter starts anew, then another spasm gasping for air. The woman seems to smirk and raises her knuckle to her mouth to bite sofly, almost reveling in the terrible scene. As the laughter turns into a wet, gutteral wheezing, the woman speaks "You have had your fill now beasts. You will leave now." At that the scavengers take flight all but one.
The remaining bird hops onto the chest of the child so that its beady eyes gaze maliciously at her and resumes its feast. With a slight chuckle she smirks and says "So be it." Giving the bird a wink starts the transformation. The bird writhes and bubbles, its skin being turned inside out. The glistening mass that is the birds innards convulse still with life. The shrieking calls of its torment add to the childs hideous, gasping laughter.
The woman looks on smiling at the birds predicament, almost forgetting the child. She turns back to the child and studies the small form. "You, young one, who have not known life for long, know the enlightenment that only pain may bestow upon you." She stretches out her arms, "In all this barren wasteland, there is nothing here but pain. Nothing here but suffering. You have learned, in your few years of life what many never learn in their whole life. " She bends down slowly, brushing the burned hair away from the young face and says smiling "Within this world there are many things to learn, some emphasize various things that some call truths that you will need to sort out on your own volition." At that, the laughter stops abruptly although the gasping continues as though the child is listening to every word. The woman continues. "There is only one real truth that one need know. Everyone, be they with someone or is alone, as you are now." Looks down smiling, "feels pain in there own individual way. Only the enlightened, as you are My child," leans down kissing the childs burned forehead, "know the delight that only comes from that one truth." The child starts to cough heavily, bits of bloody sputum stain her lips as her body convulses in her death throes. The woman chuckles, "No, my child, it is not your time just yet. There is much more that you may learn and teach. Those who have been to the edge of the void through exquisite pain cannot deny others the chance of that particular experience. You, who have served me so well without knowing through your short, life I grant you a proper chance to learn what pain can truely bring." The woman places her hand upon the childs chest a moment before she has breathed her last, letting the child go to the brink of death to then bring her back so she may instruct others of the truth the woman laid out.
In what seemed like an instant the woman brings forth the sleeping child, now healed in body to the gates of a white walled monestary. The doors open at her approach. Monks in robes of blazing white with red trim of both genders stand with their heads reverently lowered. She speaks "This child has much to offer," she smirks, "She will be able to learn my teachings to a greater degree than even the best of you. She is to be shown no special treatment." The woman chuckles softly changing her mind, "Perhaps, be harder on her than any others who have been here." The woman looks down on the child sleeping soundly, " She," the woman smirks, "will be able to take whatever you can give her, this I know." The monks nearby start to pick up the child from the woman. "Wait!" She commands. The monks dutifully obey. The woman leans down to the back of the childs head and kisses her there softly. Those monks closest to the scene see a mark of a whip with nine tails underneath the nape of her neck. "Now she is ready to continue her lessons. " The monks prostrate themselves before the woman and say in chorus, "We do as you wish, Loviatar, Mistress of pain"
I had a long while away due to comp. issues and thought a backstory to my char was in order. Not sure if anyone will remember her but I hope you enjoy the story. And I hope to see you in game
Take care!
