Private Tales The Haunted Hunted

[Roul]

"He's found us again," rasped Roul, glancing quickly around the corner and down an alleyway of Ragash.

Amidst the foot traffic, he caught a glimpse of red robes and the glint of mail. More than that, he could smell the man. He reeked of monkshood. Not a scent others would notice, but to Roul it came across clear and caustic despite the bodily stench and perfumes of the bazaar. He grit his teeth and looked to Keres, blue eyes staring out from a face sunburnt to bronze and peeling.

I can't believe he found me.

How far did Roul have to run from the Radiants to find peace? He knew the answer they would give.

Further than the light of the Sun.

The red robed man paused, then began to move in their direction.

 

[Keres]

And they were running again. Fuck this was getting tiring. So much for safety in numbers. So much for a day of normalcy. She was young, she was supposed to be wandering around markets, buying pretty things and drinking sangria, but no - she'd chosen to stick with the only other person in all of Arethil who had more shit to deal with than she did.

"You." Keres corrected quietly. "He found you again." she huffed up at him, folding her arms and lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "He - whoever he is - wants little to do with me."

"I might just stop here, have some nice tea and you can find me when you sort your shit out." she muttered childishly as she looked down the little alleyway lined with a few rather interesting stalls.

 

[Roul]

“Drink your tea then,” Roul rasped.

“And after he cuts my head off and mounts it on his saddlebags, he’ll come for you.”

The Cortosi reached out and took her by the elbow, crossed as her arms were, and started to pull her in the direction of another alley.

“He can sense your necromancy like a fucking bloodhound. And he’d happily toss your pretty little ass into a lake after hanging a millstone around it and watch you drown.”

Both of them were exhausted, nerves frayed, and Roul knew the gruffness in his tone would drive her up the city walls. But she didn’t realize who they faced.

“He doesn’t do this for money. Doesn’t do it for fame. He’s a paladin of the Church. He does this because in his eyes, it’s righteous. Believe me, I know.”

 

[Keres]

Keres shot him a look of indignation.. "Me? He's never seen me before in his l--- Will you stop dragging me around like a sack of fucking potatoes?" she grit out between clenched teeth and unfolded her arms, her feet hurrying to keep up with him lest she be physically dragged like a child.

Gods he was infuriating at times, but she kept her teeth clenched shut as he explained, and gradually, the irritation in her expression gave way to something more akin to trepidation.

"Well that's perfect. As though I wasn't already glad enough to have stuck around, you really are the gift that keeps on giving." she huffed. "The only thing worse than a mob or disorganised townsfolk is a mob of organised fucking zealots." Keres yanked her arm out of his grip and continued along beside him. So much for the tea. So much for laying low.

Once again, she was looking over her shoulder. Hunted.

"Is he alone?.. Can you just.." she 'growled' as she curled her lips into the most feeble of snarls and made a clawing motion with her hand, her brow arching in question. "I mean it has to have some perks, surely?.."

 

[Roul]

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” he growled in response, letting go of her arm as they both hurriedly moved down the alleyway.

Only ravenous hunger controlled the beast within him. He was just a passenger in his own body. Terrified to fall asleep in moonlight. Horrified to awake, naked and alone, mouth and hands drenched in someone else’s blood. Constantly wondering what innocents died by the beast’s claws.

Part of him wondered if it would not be better to just let the paladin catch up to them. At least in death he would be rid of this curse.

“Where are you running, little wolf?” Came a cold voice in Cortosi, pitched up above the verve of the crowd beyond.

Roul went still and turned to see the man striding with feline grace down the alleyway toward them. The hackles on the back of Roul’s neck rose and he bared his teeth in a snarl.

“Asturias,” he rasped.

“So there’s enough of you left in there to remember my name,” the man reached up, lowering his red hood to expose tanned features and locks curly black hair. Asturias drew the sword at his waist. The steel gleamed in the sunlight. “Good. When I take your head, my brother will know I set him free.”

The tip of his sword, pointed at Roul, shifted to Keres.

“Stay out of my way, whore, and I give you swift death. Interfere and I will make an offering of your screams to my god.”

At those last words, his sword took on a sudden glow and became wreathed in holy flame. He took the hilt in both hands and came at them, chain mail rattling beneath his red robes.

Roul drew his own sword and parried, but Asturias’ blow drove him to his knees and he felt his wrists ache with the reverberation.

 

[Keres]

Dark waves lashed at the air as Keres' head whipped around, her eyes wide on the approaching Paladin. Instinctively, Keres drew closer to Roul, seeking solace and protection in the presence of the only ally she had.

Keres did not truly fear many things. Things she saw every day were the stuff of nightmares, things that would make most grown men weep, but she had never feared them. Perhaps it was Roul's fear that told her that this man was different - either way, his looming presence made her feel like nothing more than a child. Ice ran down her spine as he pointed the blade at her, his threat overshadowing the insult he hurled at her. Any retort she might have had mustered wilted in the face of his menace, leaving her throat dry and her tongue heavy with unspoken fear.

The weight of his gaze bore down upon her, stripping away the veil of bravado to reveal the raw vulnerability that lurked beneath. What power did she truly have in such moments? She had much to learn and her magic was slow, it took time, and blood, and she doubted there were any dead men nearby that she might call upon. Not yet anyway..

As the paladin's sword erupted in a blinding burst of white flame, Keres flinched instinctively, raising her arm to shield her eyes from the searing light. The alleyway erupted into chaos as bystanders scattered in terror, their cries of alarm mingling with the clang of steel and the crackle of holy fire as the blade brought Roul to his knees. There was little time to think. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to flee from this fucking fanatic. And for a moment it seemed that was exactly what she was doing, before she rounded back on him.

In a blur of motion, Keres leaped onto Asturias's back with a guttural cry of desperate defiance, her dagger glinting as it sought out his throat whilst he was otherwise busy trying to keep Roul at bay..

 

[Roul]

Straining against the strength of Asturias, Roul grit his teeth, shoved against their intertwined blades, and then raised his own for a thrust at the man’s gut even as Keres desperately threw herself upon Asturias’ back.

The dark haired Cortosi’s lips twitched in annoyance, his blade crackling with holy godfire. His black-eyed gaze saw the thrust, felt the scrabbling of Keres on his back. Roul watched as if in slow motion, his blade racing toward the man’s stomach, Keres’ dagger for his neck.

“Pathetic,” spake Asturias, derision dripping from his tongue.

Then a blast of energy rippled from Asturias in all directions in a wave of force so strong it sent Roul flying backward to land with a crunch on the dirt of the alley. Keres, unless she had something up her sleeve, would have been likewise blown backward - a gnat in the gale beat of an eagle’s wings.

”You make a mockery of my brother’s body, beast.“

 

[Keres]

Lifted into the air, as if caught in the grip of a tempestuous wind, Keres' body became a mere plaything of forces beyond her control, tossed through the air so effortlessly. And all at once, she understood this man's strength.

The impact with the wall was brutal, the sheer force of the blast slamming her against the unforgiving stone with bone-jarring intensity. Agony erupted throughout her body as her spine and skull collided with unyielding mortar, a sickening crack echoing in her ears as pain lanced through her consciousness like shards of glass.

For a moment, the world seemed to spin in a dizzying whirl of chaos, blackness threatening to swallow her whole as she struggled to draw a ragged breath back into her battered lungs. Dust and debris filled the air, swirling around her like a shroud of impending doom as she fought to regain her bearings.

With every ounce of strength she could muster, Keres forced herself to push through the haze of pain and disorientation, her muscles trembling with the effort as she attempted to rise from the ground. But her limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, her body refusing to obey the commands of her fractured mind.

With a grim determination, she pulled herself across the ground, reaching for the blade, and with a shaking hand she drew it across her palm, her dark eyes on the paladin as she spoke.

"Karnath esh na'khul, krasaroth besh ukhun....Karnath esh na'khul, krasaroth... besh ukhun."

To most, the language was dead, long since prohibited and obscured by the passage of time, but their essence was doubtless, inflicting the weight of mortality upon Asturias with an intensity that would reverberate through his very soul, calling it free of his body.

He would no doubt feel the chill touch of death creeping through his veins, a coldness that would gnaw at his flesh, it's only wish to extinguish the spark of life within him. It was a spell Keres had learned well, but had never tried, and though she doubted she had the time necessary to complete it, with any hope it would make him more vulnerable to attack for as long as she could hold it.

 

[Roul]

"Hnnnhaa," Asturias let out a hissing groan of pain. "Wretched whore, who taught you that tongue?"

The Cortosi knight's focus settled on Keres and he raised a gauntleted hand. Heat began to glow in the center of his palm.

"No!" roared Roul, scrambling to his feet and flinging out his own hand in desperation, conjuring a sliver of ice that spat from his hand and struck Asturias'. The ice shattered on the gauntlet, knocking the man's aim just as he loosed a firebolt that crackled through the air to char the cobblestones by Keres.

Roul rushed forward swinging his sword in an all out attempt to distract the man, but Roul was out of practice. Asturias' fiery sword countered his every cut and Roul could feel the searing heat from the blade as their steeled edges ground together.

This close, Roul stood nose to nose with a man he had spent years fighting beside. A deep, cold sadness tinged his rage, even as he bent his strength against Asturias' in their locked blades, trying to force the man to his knees.

He didn't want to kill him.

But Asturias was a true knight of the Radiant Church. He served the Sunfather's will. And Roul could see that fervent belief glowing in the man's eyes, reflected as clearly as the flames of the burning sword.

As their blades ground together, Asturias - life still being siphoned by Keres - raised his off-hand again at Keres and launched another fireball directly toward her. It sizzled through the air as it went and Roul watched in horror, powerless to stop it.