Private Tales Read between the lines

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Zana's usually golden brown skin turned as white as a sheet. She was aware that Blackforge was looking at her for some explanation but she struggled to get past the nauseated feeling in her stomach. What was happening was against not only the laws of nature but that of the world. Now it made sense why the ghouls were so dangerous and why they did not die easily like other undead soldiers did.

Eventually she swallowed and managed to explain, even if her eyes didn't leave the corpse.

"There are five laws of magic which hold the world together and to ... bypass them the mage has to pay a price. One of them is bringing back the dead. Necromancers can do it, yes, but they're not... they're not much good and they don't tend to last long. But to make them repeatedly cheat death over and over like they do here... they are sacrificing his life and soul to ensure they live."

Zana clearly had made up her mind. She stepped as if to bypass Blackforge and walk towards the corpse.

"Let me end it."
 
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As soon as Zana stepped forward she would notice the floor suddenly shift below her. The last step she took she was suddenly half thrown back against Blackforge, The General's hands coming out to prevent the Dreadlord from falling.

"Impossible, I'm afraid."​

The corpse sighed.

"This is my trap, and although I can control some of it. I cannot control it all."​

For a few seconds his hands seemed to reach up, and then he reached for his own throat. One of the tendrils seemed to bend, and before his touch could even land it blocked him, coming into the path and stopping him cold.

The Arch-Lectors head slowly shook.

"You must flee."​

As he spoke the ground all around him began to shift, dropping, opening into the abyss.

"I have held them back as long as I could...but I..."​

He drifted off, and sound began to echo from the pits that had opened. The audible sounds of death echoing out from within the darkness. Ghouls, zombies, more, all began to crawl forth from the pits.
 
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Blackforge would have to tighten his grip upon her if he didn't want her to throw herself forward in another attempt to end the creatures life. It was a hard thing to explain, the need inside of her to destroy that which went so against everything that it was to wield magic.

"I can't just leave him-!" her voice contained the most humanity it had all mission; her words a keening plea combined with an iron thread of anger. Her face reflected her turbulent emotions in the twist of her lips and the way her eyebrows were drawn up in to a pained pleading expression. Zana was barely even aware of the other creatures coming towards them.
 
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It was the two Black Guard that saved Zana as one of the armored ghouls suddenly sprang forward and tried to cut her down. The man stepped between her and the two, slicing through his arm and severing it at a gap in the beasts armor.

The amputation did not slow the beast of course, but it kept the Dreadlord safe for a few moments. The Black Guard immediately shifted, using the butt of his spear to kick the creature back. "I know lass!"

Blackforge yelled through gritted teeth as he pulled her back, not letting her jump forward into the massive horde now growing before them.

"GO!"​

It was the arch-lector that screamed out, his hand curling into a fist. The doors that they had walked through eeked open, just barely.

"Go! Lest they seat a throne for you!"

Blackforge looked up at the man, a scowl on his face as more of the ghouls jumped forward to cut them down. "Fuck!"

The old General barked as he whistled and pulled the group, including Zana, into a retreat.
 
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"NO!" Zana could feel herself being dragged, hurled, and in the end practically picked up and thrown over someone's shoulder, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the horror of the corpse. It should not be - it could not be - if he was left to exist...

"This is bigger than us," she whimpered and squirmed. "He endangers the Laws of the world! Put me down!" she hammered on the broad shoulder she was pinned against. As the group dove through the tiny crack in the door and it slammed shut behind them Zana felt the tiny spark of her magic return. The sounds of the hoard hammering against the door chased them back down the corridor from whence they had came.
 
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"I know." Blackforge said as he kept running, shifting in the hallway and pulling open one of those odd operational rooms.

The Guardsmen moved, and then suddenly stopped as the doors behind them began to creek open once more. There was a pause, and then two of the Black Guard motioned to their fellows. Their weapons shifted, fingers tightening and hands waving.

Blackforge lingered for a moment, and then nodded.

He hefted Zana on his shoulder, then with the two other remaining Black Guard slipped into the operation room. The door slid shut behind them, one of the Guardsmen pulling an odd sort of bottle from his satchel and walking towards the narrow slit window. "I know lass."

The General said.

"But this isn't a fight we can win." Not with just six of them. Not with the way that room was.
 
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More and more magic returned to her as they hurtled further away from that room but something was wrong with it. She couldn't quite explain the sensation but it was as though she were getting it back covered in tar. It made it hard to use even if she could feel it coursing through her body. Every time Blackforge jostled her by hoisting her further up on his shoulder or turning sharply she felt a wave of nausea rise and hit the back of her throat. In the end Zana had to shut her eyes and rest her forehead against her arm where it was splayed across his shoulder, panting heavily to keep her food down.

With the return of her magics came back the violent visions.

Back in the streets of Vel'Anir. Ghouls ate into the living flesh of those who stood in their way, tore screaming people apart with their bare hands. It was as though they enjoyed the sensation of warm flesh against their twisted version of what was once living.

Her whole body shook with feverish chills from the taint.

"Something's wrong... something's wrong with my magic... Tainted..."
 
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"An issue for later Lass." Blackforge said as he shifted her and dragged her so that she was half covered by his body. The Black Guard had jammed the odd glass bottle into the slit window, and he now quickly stepped away.

"Ready."

Was all the man said as the four of them crowded into the corner of the room. There was a second, a pause, and then suddenly there was a loud concussive burst. The sound of breaking rock and a thundering explosion echoed, causing a ringing in the ears.

When they turned back, the slit window had turned into a hole large enough for them to crawl out of, though it below was the courtyard absolutely teeming with mindless zombies. "Going to need some magic."

The General told Zana.

Even if it was...tainted somehow, they needed to get out of there.

Beyond the door sounds of fighting could be heard, the two Black Guard that had remained behind fiercely dragging out their battle with the Ghouls.
 
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Zana did not look well: her skin was an ashen grey and when her feet touched the ground it looked for a moment like her legs were going to give out. But she didn't complain. Didn't utter one word of argument at the order. Instead she clenched her jaw and shut her eyes, hands out stretched towards the hole in the wall.

Brick and mortar peeled back, widening the gap further and launching out into the open air to form a series of stepping stones across the gap to the wall beyond.

"Go, I can't hold it for long. Go," she didn't open her eyes such was her concentration. She added more and more bits of debris to the pathway till it was a skeletal bridge.
 
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There was a rush from the three men to hop across the bridge as fast as they could go.

As they moved one of the Black Guard pulled out a strange sort of whistle from his satchel. His fingers clicked, and he tossed over the small device to Blackforge. The General caught it with his left hand, holding his axe with the other as they moved across the bridge.

"Go!" He motioned to Zana as he crashed down onto the outer wall of the Keep.

Then he put the whistle to his mouth.

No sound seemingly came from the device, but within the distance an echo could be heard loud enough that Four Manticores and a Great Owl slowly began to take to the skies.
 
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Zanas eyes opened at Blackforges urging and she glanced over her shoulder; the remaining two Black Guard were still behind the door. She could hear them desperately fighting a losing battle.

To Hell am I leaving them two more corpses to use.

Zana was an obedient soldier but she didn't 'go' as Blackforge commanded. The Bridge was relatively safe and she peeled some of her attention away you focus her magic on the door instead. With a noise it ripped from its hinges and a purple net of energy slid between the men and ghouls.

"Hurry!"

Once they were through and on the bridge Zana drove after them.
 
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It was too late for the Black Guards.

As Zana threw up her shield, the Ghouls tore through it a second later and grasped both of the Guardsmen before they could get into the room, cross it, and get out onto the bridge that Zana had constructed. They were the Price for the General's hubris.

When Zana came running across the bridge Blackforge was already waiting. The Zombies in the Courtyard below had ceased their shamblings, all eyes now upon the intruders on the wall.

"Fuck this!" Blackforge yelled as he grabbed up the Dreadlord and started to run towards the edge of the walls. He ran as fast as he could, and then simply jumped. The Black Guard did the same behind him, rushing forward and falling off the wall.

Half-way down their mounts caught them, the Great Owl flapping it's wings as Blackforge barely managed to grasp onto it's reigns.
 
Zana had thought they were right behind her. When she turned to see them snatched back before they could set foot on her bridge something broke. If she hadn't been able to save the corpse king then she had hoped she would be able to at least ensure the group all made it back in once piece. Her foot was already on the bit of flagstone that was a part of the makeshift bridge, fully intent on going back to help the poor souls, when Blackforge yanked her off her feet like she weighed nothing more than a feather pillow.

The bridge collapsed as her shock broke her concentration and the pieces of rubble went crashing down into the grounds below. Quietly, she hoped a few of the vile things were trapped under it.

Soft, white feather wings filled her vision as they landed on the owls back and Blackforge plonked her in front of him on the saddle. Zana was ashamed to find tears wet her cheeks.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I failed Sir," her whole body was tense as she waited for the punishment.
 
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Blackforge clung to the back of the Great Owl, frowning for a moment as he looked down at Zana in confusion.

"The fault lays with me." The General said grimly.

It was clear that he was not angry, not at least, with her. Embarassement painted over his features, fingers tightening within the great owls feathers for a moment as he took a deep breath and turned away from the Dreadlord in shame.

"I walked us in there with half the story and a quarter of the truth." He frowned. "Less than that."

A curse escaped him. "I made a mistake."

He looked back at her.

"Me." Blackforge reiterated. "No one else."
 
Talus had told her that the Generals were different to the Commanders the Dreadlords served under but it still didn't prepare her for the shock of one of them admitting they were wrong. Nobody she had ever served under had ever believed themselves to be wrong; it was always this persons fault or that persons fault. She had suffered more than once a physical blow across the face because her vision hadn't come to pass and she had wasted valuable resources. Round eyes stared up at Blackforge uncomprehendingly.

Silence ticked by on the long fingers of time.

"You..." she sounded lost. "You're not going to punish me?"
 
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"What?" Blackforge whipped his head towards her, his voice incredulous.

He looked at her in utter confusion, not quite understanding what the hell she could even mean. His head shook. Blackforge was known as a hard man, harder than most of the General besides perhaps his Companion to the South, but neither of them physically punished their soldiers.

At least not by striking them.

Sometimes Guardsmen would be made to train extra hard, sparring would go on longer than it usually did, but no one got beaten. Such practices had been phased out years ago when the Generals had deemed them ineffective.

"Of course not." He said, almost offended by the thought he might do something. "A good leader takes responsibility for his actions."

And these were his own.
 
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Zana held his gaze calmly, still half expecting for him to finally reveal what it was she would be given for her failure to keep all of his men safe or complete the mission. There was no hint of a fight in her either which was perhaps even more heartbreaking; she truly believed that the fault lay at her own feet. What use was a Dreadlord, after all, if they couldn't do their basic job and serve Vel'Anir? Of course she had aspirations beyond that now; the two lives she currently grew and carried inside of her was the physical proof of that, but the belief that she was a soldier to fulfil orders was something that was buried so deep inside of her it would be a wonder if she ever rooted it all out.

His words only seemed to confuse her.

"I..." she paused, brows furrowing together as she tried to work it out. Then, in a tiny voice he might not even hear. "I don't understand."
 
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"A leader takes responsibility." Blackforge repeated, looking at her as the Great Owl flapped it's wings.

They were soaring away from Kyslith now, their mounts carrying them fast and far into the night. There were no clouds, and the stars above them were as clear as the light of day. Arethil's dual moons cast light down upon them all.

"This mission was mine." He told her. "I orchestrated it. Ordered it."

Lead it. "The failure lies with me, no one else."

Everyone else had simply done as they were Ordered to do. There was no fault in that. There was no blame in their failure. Not in his eyes or anyone elses.
 
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Zana mulled over this information quietly.

It simply did not fit into her view of this life and she was clearly struggling to make it fit. Alas, it was like trying to ram a sphere into a square hole. In the end she gave up and just accepted the fact she would not be going home with more bruises on top of her injured ankle and side. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off more of her aches and pains were making themselves known to her, demanding her attention.

There was nothing she could do presently so she cast her eyes over the view below she was offered in between beats of the owls wings and probed at her magic instead. It still felt slimy and wrong though as the distance grew the feeling faded. It no longer made her feel sick at the least.
 
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The trip back was a solemn one.

Quiet.

Blackforge did not say any more on the point, though he held it to heart. For him there was no real question of who had failed. The General held himself tight against the Owl, always looking back to ensure that Zana was still hanging on as well.

Hours passed, but eventually their flight ended. The small group came back to the Training field that they had taken off from, landing gracefully in the empty yard just as the sun was one again rising upon the distant Horizon.

The Two Black Guard slipped wordlessly from the Mantiroce. Blackforge slowly lowered himself from the Owl, offering a hand to Zana so she could crawl down.
 
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Zana had barely managed to keep herself in the saddle on the journey home. Tiredness dragged at her like a heavy weight and a few times she had found her head nodding forwards, eyes shut. When they landed and Blackforge offered his hand she accepted it with gratitude and gave a slight wince as the pain in her ankle reawakened.

The situation felt like it warranted a quip about sticking to horse riding but she couldn't bring herself to say it; the mood was not right.

Grey bounded up from the shadows. Despite her command the stubborn mutt had stuck around waiting for his Mistress and he was quick to quickly snuff her all over, growling faintly at the stench of wrongness coming off of her. Gently she ran a hand through his fur.

"I know boy, I know," she wanted it off her too. "Is there... anything else, Sir?"
 
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Blackforge shifted his weight, his axe slipped back into it's holster on the Great Owls saddle. He turned as Zana for a few moments as she asked her leave.

A frown touched his features, and then he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did well."

Her best.

The General had lead men for nearly thirty years. He had only held the Army of the East for ten years, but before that he had lead squads in war and battle. Zana was a Dreadlord, but he had met soldiers like her before. Ones who tried to hide behind masks.

He knew they saw themselves as weapons, he knew that the Proctors tried to tell them as such, but they were still human.

"I would be proud to have you at my side any time." He told her with a nod of his head. "Get some rest."

Blackforge squeezed her shoulder, then let her go.
 
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Zana stared at the General with wide, open eyes in a state of absolute shock. Where she had expected harsh punishment he had given her... praise? The Commanders of a Dreadlord army would think him weak for how he treated her. Dreadlords were weapons and needed a strict, tight leash.

Devoid of words, Zana merely clasped her hand over her chest and gave a smart bow, before turning on her heel and making her way back to her own home near the Barracks. She wished she had left her horse here.

Grey dogged her steps the entire way and she wasn't sure if it was the look on her face or the wolf that made the few people about at such an hour move out of her way.

Finally she caught sight of the old farmhouse Luana had given her when they had realised she intended to keep Grey. It was a large thing that had been refurbished and given a face lift befitting a Second Level Dreadlord. Despite the size, the modern fixtures and more, Zana would have preferred the cozy cabin in the woods.

With a small frown she paused finally reflecting on the bond that told her where he was. It felt faint, like he was far away. Had he been sent on a mission too? Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw a shadow detach itself from the block of her house.
 
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Lieutenant Raaf Thawne ran over towards Zana as fast as he could, his arms waving wildly as he tried to identify himself. "Lady Zana!"

His voice was quick, curt, but still a low whisper.

Zana had met Raaf more than once. He was a diligent soldier, and a good one. Talus' second in command, the man had proven himself on many accounts. His skill with a sword was nearly a match for Talus, though he fought with a shield. The young man had shown a propensity for command, and had also fallen in with the Dreadlord Bella.

A relationship that both of them kept a secret.

Thawne snapped off a salute to Zana.

"I am sorry to come to your home, but..." He frowned. "The Major did not show up for training today and he was not at his home..."

His lips thinned. "I was wondering if perhaps the Dreadlords had sent him on a mission?"

Raaf did not know of Talus and Zana's relationship, but neither did he have any other contacts in the Dreadlords that might get him that information. Of course, he'd accidentally gone to the person who would know most.
 
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Zana carefully eased her hand off of the pommel of her sword when she realised who it was and Grey went to sniff about the man's feet. The tension didn't ease from her body however and escalated further into outright alarm the further on the man spoke. When was the last time she had felt him through the bond? Her mind raced back through the last 24 hours.

"No, Raaf. The Dreadlords would not use Talus," because they considered him weak. Because they hated what he stood for and how he went about breaking traditions. Whilst he lived he was a constant symbol that things could be different in Vel'Anir. Her stomach turned.

"You need to tell me everything, when was the last time somebody saw him?" Gods. Had it happened soon after she had left? "The cabin... was it disturbed at all? Any signs of a struggle?" she brought her fingers to her lips and whistled sharply. Zandor came trotting out of the stables a moment later.
 
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