Private Tales Castle Night

[Alistair Wren]

Theme Music​

Alistair trudged up the hill with his big, string back around his shoulder, the ruined towers of the castle in sight. A breeze, disturbed by an unquiet presence scraped the stone, blasting the grass around Alistair's feet. The hems of his robes were swept up like a woman's skirts and he slammed a hand down to stop them from blowing everywhere. The sky darkened, threatening the onset of the long night he would spend in the castle. Hand on his thighs, he held down his robes and continued his stride up the hill, turning one of the curtain walls.

Stepping onto the stone, Alistair looked around and slung his bag off his shoulder, his eyes the colour of the sky above. The ruin was deserted, not a person or animal in sight, or so it seemed. A nearby village had reported strange occurrences and people going missing around the area, so they sent Alistair to investigate while he passing through. Standing in between a doorway, he stretched, yawned and looked around for some sticks he could use to make a fire with. The breeze screeched through the battlements, waking up ravens that lived in the arrow slits. Grabbing his bag, Alistair walked into the darkness of a keep and slung his bag down. It looked like a cozy place to spend the night.

Clutching the hems of his robes, he darted around the overgrown floor of the castle and picked up sticks, plonked them down in the battlement and tore up some parchment which he had been using to revise his runes on. After slotting it between the twigs, he scraped some stones together, set them alight and got a nice, little fire going.

Now he needed to get some dinner going.

Pulling a frying pan out of his bag, he smeared it with oil and placed it on the fire, then threw on some rabbit meat and carrots the village had given him. He stirred them around, took a gulp from his water flask and sat in the corner of the battlement with his arms around his knees. Shaking the food around, he listened to it sizzle and watched the smoke rise, then once it was cooked, set the frying pan aside and let it cook. He ate his dinner, stood, stretched and decided to go for a walk. Water flask in hand, he took a gulp and strode out the comfort of the battlement. Leaning against the door, he had a big stretch and yawned.

He was tired, and desperate for a piss.

Pulling his hood over his head, Alistair strode around the corner of the battlement, where he found a small clearing covered in grass. He set his flask down, opened the front of his robes, unlaced his drawers and urinated, arching his neck back with the relief it brought. A slither of wind crept down his neck, which felt almost like the hand of a woman wrapping her arms longingly around him, but it was cold, like a hand of a woman who was dead.

Havilah

 

[Tera Lynx]

The hands of a dead woman may not have been a bad description or very far off the mark. For if Alistair Wren explored just a little further around the next corner and into a small shed he would have found a three day old campsite similar to his own, with two packs of belongings and keepsakes and two bedrolls still laid out.

The castle ruins themselves were massive, and according to tales of old were said to be just as massive below ground. And though it was a crumbling ruin, the stone walls and towers still stood defiantly against the weather.
The wind howled through abandoned keeps, arches, and houses. But was that... The smell of heavy pollen? being blown away and dissipated by the wind...

Rocks fell from atop a ruined wall and landed on the destroyed shed. The crash echoed throughout the courtyard where Alistair found himself.

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair jerked around.

Hands still wrapped around his person, he snapped back as the deathly breeze kissed his neck. Eyes dark as the night sky, they widened. Breathing in and out, he shook out the last few drops, put himself and laced up his drawers. Throwing his robes shut, he grabbed a torch, shoved it in the fire and walked around the corner of the battlement.

Night had truly fallen by now.

Shadows morphed against the stone, their hands and feet grasping for life as the light of the moon pushed them away. Stick in hand, Alistair strode into a desolate courtyard, where a strange sight caught his attention. There was a campsite, complete with sleeping rolls, a burnt out fire and bags like his own. Either somebody was here, or they had spent the night here some time earlier and never returned.

"Hello!" Alistair called, "is anybody here?!" Hand cupped around his mouth, he tried his best to lift his quiet voice over the ruin.

The breeze thrust the side of the castle, scraping the stone. It screeched, blowing up Alistair's robes with the force of it's hand. the impact rocketed the the turrets of the castle, tearing rocks from its to. They fell down and smashed the shed on the hill by the campsite, debris spraying the courtyard where Alistair stood. Slamming his eyes shut, he ducked and shielded himself from the rubble. The flame of his torch flickered, threatening to go out. Lowering it, he shielded the flame from the wind and ran back to the battlement where his fire was, shaking pieces of stone out his hair.

Whatever was here, he needed to prepare dispelling charm to get rid of it.

Throwing down the torch, he dove into his bag, grabbed a charm with a sapphire gem and a spellbook, which he attached to his belt. He picked up the torch, ran back to the courtyard and lit the torches along the walls, then threw his aside with a clatter. The flames brightened the courtyard, bathing the stone in yellow light. Spellbook in hand, Alistair flicked through the pages, checked his runes and lifted the charm to his lips, kissing it.

Clearing his throat, Alistair held out his hand, the charm dangling between his fingers, "being of ill-will, heed my chant!" He sang, "by the light of the sun and all that is pure in this world, I rid thee!" He chanted, his voice echoing off the walls of the castle. He extended an arm and spread his fingers in the air, tendrils of blue and green energy dripping off them. Reaching out the spirit, Alistair acknowledged it's presence and drew it near him, luring it to the ground where he stood.

Thrusting his hand forward, Alistair blasted the unhealthy presence with the cleansing properties of his spell. Blue and green fed into the air, waiting to be soaked up by whatever monstrosity was lurking in the ruins.

Havilah

 

[Tera Lynx]

The spell did find something, though not the source of the castles troubles. A screeching black thing came into view as his spell drew forth its evil presence. The shadow creature scramble on the ground before him, writhing in the light of his spell as it began to dissipate and die.

The wind seemed to howl in response to his spell, but the wind also seemed to finally die down a bit as the windstorm moved along across the countryside. The sky remained overcast and no starlight or light of the moon lit the ruin below.
Something new was noticeable now, the gentle scent of flowers seemed to be coming from the depths of the ruins, pollen and sweet smelling fragrances now drifted along the gently moving breeze.

But now, something knew he was there...

 

[Alistair Wren]

With the incantation Alistair uttered, tendrils of blue energy dripped from his fingers, casting a signal in the darkness. An entity, built of opaque shadow screeched across the courtyard in the direction of his hand. Maintaining his stance, he stood strongly, his hand held confidently in the face of the shadow. He swallowed, his chest heaving up and down as he cleared his throat and prepared to cast again.

"Light of the stars and the force which turns the world, expel thee!" Alistair chanted, thrusting out the charm.

Blue energy exploded from his fingertips and pierced the shadows. They screeched, dissipated and died. Lowering the spellbook, Alistair sighed and raised a hand to wipe a layer of sweat off his brow with his robes.

But he had not expelled the swarm, only a shadow that dwelt in the ruin. It retreated with a whimper as the breeze died, the flames on the torches settling. A gentle cloud overswept the moon and stars, hiding them from view. The spellbook in hand, Alistair turned around and darted across the courtyard, his robes billowing out behind him. Once he returned to the battlement, he shoved his spellbook back into his bag and walked outside, standing in the courtyard.

A distinctive smell hung on the air.

Inhaling, Alistair sniffed, eyes scanning the ruins. Slowly, he placed one foot in front of the air and stepped forward towards a staircase. Gripping the railing, he walked down, gradually making his way further into the ruins. The smell became stronger. Detaching a bright blue potion from his belt, he unscrewed the cork and let it's fumes waft into the air. The blue smoke reacted with whatever was in the air and turned black. Shifting his eyes, Alistair shoved the cork back in and put the vial back on his belt.

Something was stirring within the bowels of the ruins. The swarm festered, seething as it sensed his presence, secreting a sweet scent as it did so.

"I know you're here, beastie," Alistair said as he looked up, eyes narrowing.

Havilah

 

[Tera Lynx]

After he went down the stairs he found himself in a long pitch black corador. The passage was rough and uneven, but the expected cobwebs were not present, like this passage had been used fairly recently. The passage led to a complex underground dungeon system, passages continuing to the right and the left at the end of the tunnel.

The smell grew stronger the deeper he went, a clicking sound like a great insect could be heard briefly from the depths ahead, then silence.

 

[Alistair Wren]

A bead of sweat dripped off Alistair's forehead and his vision blurred, the shadows on the walls of the castle melding. He shivered, bile rising to his throat with the effect of the spell. He had spent too much energy too quickly. Holding back, he opened his eyes and pressed on, regretting that he did not have any water.

"Fuck," he hissed beneath his breath. Alistair never cursed unless the situation was particularly dire, and this was one was such.

Mopping sweat from his brow with his robe, he held the torch above the stairs and darted down. They wound around, leading him to a corridor. It was entirely black, marred only by the light from the torch in Alistair's hand. Blinking, he squinted, struggling to see as his vision distorted, "I should go back to my camp and get water," the thought pressed his mind. "No, I need to find out what's down there," headstrong and determined, Alistair grunted as he held back vomit and swept sweat off his forehead. He shook his head, regathered his thought and strode inside.

Darkness entrapped him, the stone beneath his feet uneven. He struggled to coordinate himself, swaying and tumbling all over. As he placed his foot forward, he tripped over a rock. Tumbling to his knees, he dropped his torch and landed on his palms.

"Motherfucker," he cursed, blinking as he looked around for his torch. The flame flicked between the slits of his eyes and reached forward, grabbing it. Pulling himself to his feet, he ran forward, stumbling every so often as he made his way along the rocks.

By the time he reached the end of the tunnel, he arrived in a large complex which looked like a dungeon. Eyes widening, he slotted his torch into one of the latches on the wall and breathed in and out. The smell was strong down here, like flowers picked freshly from a field. Shivering, Alistair keeled over, his eyes closing. He couldn't hold it back. Hands on his his knees, he vomited on the stone, coughing and spluttering as he emptied his dinner from his stomach.

"Ugh, why don't you spend the night in a castle with a monster, Al?" He sputtered, chastising himself, "that sounds like a good idea!" Eyes shut, he hauled himself and breathed, retaining his composure.

He needed water, but he was too far down to go and get it. If he was lucky he could find a stream somewhere in the dungeon.

The thought pressed him, but he was quickly distracted by a clicking noise, similar to an cicada or beetle. Hand on his mouth, he wiped vomit onto his sleeve and shifted his eyes, listening intently to the noise. Spinning around, he grabbed the torch and ran further into the dungeon to follow it, when suddenly, the noise stopped, leaving only the breeze as it scraped the stone.

Torch in hand, Alistair froze in the middle of the dungeon, his eyes scanning as he expected the noise to return, but it never did.

Havilah

 

[Tera Lynx]

The smell was stronger to his left. That passageway looked especially winding with many site tunnels, easy to get lost in if one wasn't careful. The ground di get easier to walk on in some places where the stone floor was less in ruins, but upon observation it seemed like much of the rubble had been cleared away from the floor and taken elsewhere. Everything had a layer of dust on it, but only because it was underground in a dark ruin. there were definitely signs of habitation, something living down in these old tunnels.

There might even be the occasional footprint in the dust or dirt, but not of a humanoid nature, but seeming more reptilian in shape.

The thing with some monsters is they often didn't need to see you in order to find you... This monster was no exception, tracking his position through sound and scent as he made his way deeper into the dungeon, not even having to be very close to know where he was. Occasionally he would hear the clicking noise, always ahead of him, and always around the next corner where he would round the corner to see nothing but another long passage.