Private Tales Light After Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Gerrard

The Devil of Murant
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369
It always itched after a long ride. Gerrard scratched at the scars across his chest through his travelling coat. The scars should have faded to a pale watermark by now, but they ran far deeper. It was not his skin that had been pierced that day, but his very soul. They would never fade. They would never stop hurting.

There wasn't a sign at the edge of the village. None of these pig fuckers could read, he assumed. With the sun fading, Gerrard hoped this was the right place. Word of the event had not reached him quickly and he had ridden hard to get here.

Off the beaten path someone was walking across a field. Gerrard turned his horse towards then and set off at a quick trot. He slowed up as he reached the middle aged peasant. The man looked deeply concerned at having an immaculately dressed man atop a well groomed steed bearing down on him.

"Is this Briel?" Gerrard called down. There was nothing polite about his tone.

"Yar, that's right."

Gerrard barely made eye contact, turning towards the disparate collection of buildings. "Where is your nicest inn?" he asked.

The old man let out a harsh, throaty chuckle. "Crossroads in the middle is the only Inn."

Gerrard didn't even offer thanks as he dug his heels into his horse's flanks and set off the for the centre of the village.

Audreyn
 
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The lobby of the inn was filled with commotion, a few matronly faces running to and fro with pursed lips and worried eyes. A gaggle of men stood tense in a circle, half baring down at the object within with no small amount of tension.

"Renard," pleaded one weathered lady, her face as soft as her ample curves. "Give the girl a moment, we don't know what happened here."

A younger man of 20, having her same nose and green eyes, hesitated as he tried to keep her back away from the men.

One such man turned towards them, pointing a rough finger their way. "You stay back, Mal, she's dangerous." The son gripped his mother tighter under his father's gaze, not letting her break free.

"How can you say that?" Her voice cracked in distressed, "This is Ryn's daughter you're talking about, look at her, you're frightening the poor girl."

"She's not a girl, she's a witch," grumbled another man, which got a silencing look from Renard himself.

Renard kneeled down a good cautious few feet from the object of their attention, breaking the circle and allowing a view in. A girl sat in a chair, a layer of soot masking most of the finer aspects of her appearance. Her blue eyes were wide, locked that way in shock as she seemed to not register anything around her. Old tear stains were drying down the soot on her face-- a moment a trauma now covered by a wave of disbelief.

"Audreyn," Renard started carefully. "What happened to your home? Where are your parents?"

A burst of electricity shoot off of her in a ring, stinging the men and sending them yelping backwards.
 
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The door swung inwards with a gentle creak. It opened with little circumstance, just a light breeze of fresh evening air. Gerrard stepped into the inn and paid no attention to the tight circle of people. He didn't act as if he had sensed the flicker of magical energy, even though he had.

"Innkeeper? Where is your boy? I need my horse stabled."

Gerrard kept the door open, the toe of his boot against it as he crossed his arms over his chest. He watched the group at the edge of his peripheral vision, but seemed to ignore them.
 
Gerrard was ignored, the crowd gasping or screaming at the display. This was a small town, many of them hadn't seen magic of this caliber before. Especially from the farmer's daughter.

The inn keeper called out in a wave of anxious protest, his hand reaching out and flailing as if the weak gesture could contain the magic display. "Really, Renard, get her out, I want her out before she levels this building too!"

"We still don't know that was her-"

"Gods be damn, quiet woman, before I bend you over this chair too!"

A tantalizing silence descended over the room, filled with nothing but the careful shuffle of electrocuted men slowly righting themselves.

A body pressed past Gerrard at the door, rushing in and out of breath. "S-Sir. We found them." He huffed, his face young and hands covered with the same soot that dusted her features.

"F-Front parlor, Sir. They-..." He looked around, then whispered in horror. "They're dead."

The silence laid heavy and thick.

"Get her outside."

Hands reached out to lift Audreyn up by her arms. She gasped, jerking back to life. "N-no," she croaked, shying away. Another set of hands surged forward, going to grab her by her other side and lift her off the chair.

"No!" She said again, force entering her tone. A chaotic blast of magic shot off her, knocking everyone back. Her chair skittered across the floor, smashing in the wall and cracking.

She took a panicked step backwards, deeper into the inn, utterly desperate to stay inside of it where they could not reach her.

They could not reach her here, right?

Renard surged forward.
 
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Gerrard sighed. This all looked very disappointing. If the residual energies his Pesquisa circle had guided him to were nothing more than a young woman discovering her powers then this was going to be a waste of his time.

Covered in soot. The girl in the centre of the circle and the newcomer. He had suspected another mage attempting the impossible. Another Murant. Instead a primal release of fire from an untamed mage.

He very nearly closed the door. He didn't. Gerrard couldn't stand to watch the peasant tear someone down for being greater than them. Insects used force of numbers to drag down creatures of more significant stature. It wasn't something that humans, no matter how low, should emulate.

His whispered words in a foreign tongue. They echoed off the wooden beams and carried further than they should. The candles flickered.

A jet of flame burst from the floor before Renard. It continued in fury until he backed away from the heat. A moment of silence fell.

"I would really like... for someone to stable my horse."
 
The whole room fell still, not even a breath was dared to be released as everyone took note of the stranger for the first time. Fear masked a good number of their weathered faces. Shock, and even contempt speckled the rest.

Audryen gaped openly at him, her chest heaving and mind spinning. Had he just... Gears started churning and clicking into place, the shock slipping from the tips of her body and melting away.

Renard slowly drew an old, tarnishing sword from a weathered scabbard at his waist. He held it up, attention hardening on Gerrard. "State your business, stranger."
 
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Gerrard arched an eyebrow. He looked down at the pathetic sword with outright disdain. For the first time he looked past them to the girl in the centre of the circle.

Traces of magic. Not just the basic expulsion of energy he'd sensed moments ago. He hated disappointment, but he enjoyed a good mystery.

"I thought I had been quite clear. I would like someone to stable my horse. Then I would like a hot meal and - if possible - a room for the night."

Gerrard smiled. It wasn't a happy expression. "There all square. Now.. whats your business manhandling a young woman like that for?" His steely gaze returned to Renard. It stayed there.
 
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"Don't be fooled," growled one man from the side. Pure hatred burned in his eyes for Gerrard, his fingers flexing as if yearning for a weapon to harm him with."That's no human, that's a demon. Same thing as you-" Renard silenced the man with a hard look.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint but we don't have no rooms left in this inn," the man lied, slowly lowering the sword only then and letting it hang loosely at his side. "Best you carry on to the next town before any trouble can find you on the road."

The threat was clear in his hard tone, no sense of welcome to his words.

"He's lying," Audreyn shot out, desperate for the magician not to leave. She needed help. From magical things. And here he was-- thank the moon goodness Aithe for the answer to her prayer.

"They have rooms, they just don't-"

"Enough," hissed the man besides her, backhanding her in a desperate bid to keep her next words from slipping out. Gerrard had entered a very small village, isolated from all without a two days ride in any direction. They had their far share of ignorance and superstitions. And 'demons' were one.

"Best just go," Renard urged with no little amount of stress clenching between his teeth.

Audryen gasped, tumbling into the wall and sliding down it, not a single bit of her hardened up for a punch or a whap like that. Slowly, the magic began to crinkle and grow, awaking to the girl that didn't realizing she was calling out for its aid.

She glanced up, giving the man a spiteful look through tears of pain.

He went flying through the air, smashing into the fireplace in a solid heap.
 
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"Fucking simpletons," Gerrard muttered under his breath. The old bastards in charge of the great college of Elbion were ignorant and risk averse. They were nothing compared to the country bumpkins who thought that magic required a pact with a great monster. Easier to blame something from beyond than to learn to read a book and understand how the fundamental elemental currents could be broken free from the rest of reality with the right application of energy.

"Audreyn was it?" Gellard said, taking a step forwards. It might have made him look telepathic, but the truth was far more simple. He had stood on the other side of the door and listened to the commotion before opening it.

The fingers of his left hand twitched and etched a symbol into the air. If she lost control and went off then he was going to need some protection.

"You can keep your louse infested rooms, but I'd like a word with the girl. Or else...I will summon an actual demon with a taste for eyeballs." He actually grimaced at how that sounded.
 
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The occupants of the room watched on in horror, near every eye turning to Renard for his response. All the while Audryen stared at Gerrard in desperate gratitude, her hands shaking in fear as she slowly managed to stand up. This made everyone abruptly gasp or step backwards, braced for another explosion from the she-demon.

Renard's sword flickered up to Audreyn's neck in no unspoken threat, his jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as he struggled over what he felt was an entirely dangerous situation.

"Did you do this to this girl, demon. Have you come for her?" Ignorant indeed.
 
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Much to the surprise of some, Gerrard brought both hands up to his face. He covered his face, rubbed his eyes and groaned in annoyance. If he could just have finished his research into breaking the limits of spatial displacement he could have simply removed the girl from the inn.

"Take your sword away from her neck. Take it away. I walk away from here. She walks away from here. You live. I promise - and I simply cannot emphasise this enough - I will never return to this shit heap of a village."

Hands felt to his sides. Not limp, or idle. Palms faced the floor as if ready to act. The incantations were already done, completed as he covered his face. The core of energy in the hilt of the man's rusted sword, ready to blossom and burn his fingers away in a fraction of a second.
 
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Renard deliberated, his careful gaze not leaving Gerrard and the sword unwavering at her neck.

"Renard, please," begged the woman in the corner, her face pleading and pal as she remained held held back by her son.

The man gave a heavy sigh, having a feeling he was going to regret this. He lowered his sword, his head slowly shaking. "Begone, demon. Take your fare and leave the rest of the children in this village alone."

For a moment, Audreyn found herself standing dumbly in place, not comprehending. ... Was she being sent off? But she wasn't a demon, she was attacked by them. She wasn't... she couldn't... She had never left the village before. She genuinely thought she misunderstood. This couldn't be.

None of the night made sense.

She casted the mage an unsure look, seeking answers.
 
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He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Gerrard didn't often feel sorry for strangers. There were a great many people in the world and he had enough problems of his own. He latched onto the girl's gaze with piercing blue eyes. There was a deep well of disappointment that all he had sensed was another young Mage snapping as her powers were unleashed. It had felt...felt like Murant. He tried to offer a look of encouragement as he waved for her to join him.

Holding that point of energy within the sword started to cause an ache behind his eyes. The pattern etched into his chest started to itch.

"Come," he said, addressing her directly for the first time. "Let's go."

He wasn't really sure what came next. First he wanted to see where the nexus of this explosion of magical energy. She would know where.

"We're going to step outside and because we are normal humans...walk away. We will be talking. Do not take this for speaking tongues, do not do something rash."
 
She wavered in place, her fear shining in her eyes. There were so many reasons no to go, so much of her protesting at the thought of walking out of her town with a stranger-- a mage that cohorts with demons.

But there was also the pressing knowledge that she was still in danger. They were still out there and these people ... her whole world, had already turned on her in a way there was no going back from.

They would burn her at a stake too, she knew it in her core. She had somehow...

She looked down to her hands, the fleshy objects smeared with soot and shaking, but looking ... no different. They were still... her hands, regardless of how disconnected she felt from them. So how did they send out flames? What was wrong with her?

She looked back up to the man, unsure about everything except for one thing. He would have answers.

She took a tentative step forward, her eyes tearing across all the faces that made up her world. Some looked away in disgust, others in fear, one or two in restrained grief. No one moved to stop her. She stumbled forward, tripping over herself as she looked away and briskly hurried to him. She pushed past him and spilled out the door, quickly finding herself hyperventilating against the deck pillar as the world spun around her.

Magic crackled wildly around her, undirected but at large-- a very present threat.

"What's happening to me?" She demanded between to the hard to catch breaths.
 
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"Nothing many people haven't gone through before," he explained softly. There was an edge of restraining himself with patience. A veneer hiding the questions he really wanted to ask. Someone had said there had been bodies. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her that he wanted to see the site now and potentially send her over the edge.

"You're a mage. You haven't been trained so you're letting everything go. Hopefully you won't destroy your own body with...no I mean...forget that."

Gerrard winced. He wasn't very good at trying to calm people down.

"I would be much obliged if you told me your name and tried to explain, in your own terms, what happened today?" He attempted formal in lieue of empathy. From within a saddle back he widthdrew a spare coat and passed it towards her. It was cold out.
 
She took the coat, not feeling the cold but yearning for some sense of normalcy. Coats were normal, so she slipped it on, clutching it to herself.

"I-I-" She struggled for words, finding them far away. She shook her head, as if saying it would make it true. "Please," she uttered with a sense of urgency, turning on him. "We can't be out here. It's not safe, they're-they're-" She looked back up to him, desperate for an answer that he couldn't give, because she couldn't speak it.

She switched thoughts, disjointed.

"Who are you? How did you know to answer my prayer?"
 
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"Sorry, didn't answer a prayer. A bit of luck and happened to pick up whatever happened."

Which is what I would really like explained...

"Please, excuse my manners. Gerrard Duvont. Mage, master of the element, formerly principal summoner of the fourth order of the college of Elbion."

That's not what they call you now.

He gave a very curt bow and then returned to the questions. They had a long journey to the next village over to find another inn. She didn't look in a good place to spend the night under the stars.

"Who is out there?"
 
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Audreyn blinked, looking unsure of what to do with herself as he gave a curt bow before her. She had never had a man bow to her before. He must be one of those nobles to be from a place with a name like that...

She shook her head, dismissing her trailing thoughts. The reality of her situation wasn't sinking into her yet, leaving her remarkably level-headed. At least, enough to give him the answers he was searching for, her expression still somewhat distant.

"The demons," she murmured, glancing apprehensively towards the shadows between the buildings. They were in the center of the little village, an epicenter of light that dissipated quickly between the homes built over the shops around them. "My father did not call them by a name... They're coming for me." The magic lashed out, more painful to sense at such a high frequency than manifesting into anything physically harmful.

Her expression only then began to crumble back into fear. "They want to take me, please-- you have to help me!"
 
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Dismay crossed Gerrard's face at the mention of demons again. It was too much to ask for a magical prodigy from a bumpkin town like this to also be reasonably educated. He tried to turn his expression into one of concern.

"Did these demons...did they take human form?" he asked with a very brief wince. Almost as an afterthought he added: "I'm not letting anyone take you or harm you because you have more talent than the rest of this village put together."

Gerrard looked out into the darkness too. Was there something else out there working the magical currents? It was hard to sense with them still coalescing after something had disturbed so heavily a few hours ago.
 
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She crumbled backwards into the pole, clutching at herself in relief. For a moment, she found herself unable to find words, overwhelmingly relieved that the threat on her life, at least, might be over.

She shook her head as if that would help clear the fog that gripped her thoughts. "I- yes. They were human. Two of them. They-" The magical crackled, a warning as her voice began regain emotion. "They killed my mother and I- I had to watch as they-" her breath shuddered, an inferno of fire shooting off around her as her thoughts flickered back to her father's death.

It roared out around her-- a human size fireball threatening to engulf him and send the very porch she stood on up in flames with her grief.
 
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"Get a grip girl," Gerrard snapped. His voice like a cold slap to the face. There was in fact a rush of cold air that cut through the flames. Swirls etched in frost started to spread up his left arm as he prepared to shield himself from the fire.

"You need to focus on that building energy inside. Stop adding to it and push it deep, deep down. Otherwise you're going to kill yourself, me, and everyone here. Now." Gerrard spoke quickly, knowing there was little time left.

It probably wasn't the best route to bringing her safely away from danger but command came much easier to him than sympathy. A more empathetic man might have seen the danger coming before the flames started. From back within the inn he could hear voices rising in consternation again. Shit, they probably had their pitchforks out again already.
 
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She gasped, stopping short as the fire fizzled off her and his words hit home

She was... a demon to then? No. But-... No.

Behind them, she heard the chaos. Her panic grew and with it the magic, telling the mage that she was moments away from a second explosion.

The fire lashed out again, viscous this time, burning her skin and lapping across his body. She screeched, horrified by herself She tried to press it down but her panic was too strong, her denial finally breaking to release a flood of emotion.

"I-I can't!" But ooooh, she wanted to, holding out her hands as if they were dangerous weapons as small bolts of blue electricity began build around them. She flailed, glancing at him in desperation. "Take it away, I don't want it!"
 
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Gerrad's expression turned dark. Not even staring down the peasants had turned him like this. For just a fraction of a second there was a terrifyingly fierce spark within his eyes. His left hand flicked forwards. A jagged black object shot from his hand a struck her just above the eyes. Her skin turned a pallid shade of grey. The flames, the sparks, the light in her eyes, all were extinguished together.

Three quick steps and he caught her as her knees buckled. Hands still frosted in ice grabbed her form and he wasted no time in throwing her over one shoulder. The ignorant peasants emerged from the inn crying in horror but Gerrard ignored them as he grunted and threw her limp body over the front of his saddle.

"Demons!" came one list cry as he rode into the night.



Audreyn would wake to the bite of the cold. On her side with water soaking into her dress. The waters of the lake washed back and forth over her, just a few inches deep.

"Stand up please, just keep your feet in the water," came a call. Gerrard was stood just a few metres away. His feet were on dry land. The sky was a dusky pink as dawn approached, just thin wisps of cloud stretching towards the horizon. "That was dark magic I had to do. Probably took a year or two off your lifespan and I'd rather not do it again."

Lightning wasn't going anywhere near him with her feet submerged in water. And if the flames started he would simply submerge the girl. Gerrard was not a particularly kind man. Careful, thoughtful, but not one to put people's feelings over practicality. He had put some distance between them and the village before finding this lake near the next town over and lifting the curse.
 
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She groaned, pushing herself up onto her hands with a dazed expression. "Wha..."

She stood, her legs feeling weak under her. Or maybe that was just the cold, driving a chill up her spine. She hardly cared, remembering with painstaking clarity the events that led her to this moment. That knowledge sat heavily in her haunted gaze, the girl eyeing him wearily.

She was silent for a long moment, an unspoken tension building as she took in her circumstances. "...What are you going to do with me?" She finally asked, her voice both edgy and defeated. As he could fathom, she didn't expect the best.

She was a demon after all. But then again... what did that make him?
 
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"Nothing," he said, holding his arms out to the side. "I am just a mage. I happened to be close to the town when I sensed what I now realise was you losing control of your magical abilities. They are unchecked, unchained. You nearly burned me to a crisp and the rest of your village. Not that that would have been any great loss," he added inconsiderately.

"I wasn't in the mood for watching your villagers burn you at the stake merely for being greater than they are or will ever be. And that is all of my side of this story."

Gerrard fell silent again, inclining his head towards her. He was clearly waiting to see what she had to say next.
 
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