Private Tales Those Fallen

[Kol]

The Crypt of Uriel
Deyanira

The Dark Gods whispered.

They insisted. They screamed. Their voices never stopped resounding within his skull. They pushed, the pulled, they did everything they could to bring him to the stone steps he now stood upon. It was the first taste of silence that he had in weeks, or close enough to it. Even now their insidious voices wavered within the back of his mind.

If he focused he could pick out their words even now.

"Find her."
"Take her power."
"Set her free."
"Bind her to his world and it's chains."​

Their words, as they always tended to be, were an utter mystery to Kol. He did not know who they spoke of, why they spoke it of it. The Dark Gods did not speak truths. They did not whisper the future. They spoke only of their own desires, of what they wanted and what they thought was best for themselves. Kol knew this, and yet he still listened.

Still found himself on the steps of a Crypt.

Saint Uriel of Astren was a name that even those in the most distant of lands had once known. He was a man, or a god, depending on who one might have asked. In a time when the world had broken, splintered, Uriel alone had stood against the tide. His power had sundered the earth, and wrought a fire which even the greatest of demons feared.

So the story went anyway.

The Dark Gods told him it was a lie.

A story wrought by a man of paranoia and fear. A great and powerful Sorcerer who had bound himself to a thousand souls, and used them for his own ends. A strength which still lingered on this plane, but not the reason that he was here. No. Uriels crypt was a beacon, a light house, and nothing more.

Slowly Kol walked up the steps to the shambled ruin, ancient doors having long fallen from their stone hinges. A great and once wondrous tomb now stood as less than a devastated monument to times long past. "What am I to find?"

The Sorcerer demanded, a twisted answer coming only seconds later.

"Wait...."
"Waaait...."
"She will come."
​

Their whispers rung within his skull.

 

[Deyanira]

Her journey was on foot, as always, for no horse would carry her. The last town she had rested in had been two days walk from here, and she had walked without food, water or rest through a storm to find the crypt that she'd travelled the length of Arethil to find. The pull had grown stronger with every step, and now at the foot of the stone steps, her body thrummed.

The ghost of a smile was a fleeting thing, her expression ever stoic as her amethyst hues drifted over the runes carved above the tomb's entrance. There were no traps or wards that she could sense, but she had been wrong before. She cautiously lifted her foot and with some hesitance, tapped a toe on the bottom step before deciding it was safe to climb them. She forfeit her toe once again over an inch of the threshold of the ruin, and breathed a smug sigh of relief as she stepped inside.

 

[Kol]

The footfalls were too quiet for him to hear, the steps to the Temple too far for him to listen. Kol stood staring at the altar, or what it had once been. The great stone slab had been rent in two, though by what he could not have said.

"She's here."​

It was a whisper, and yet a shout at the same time.

In an instant Kol turned on his heel, his hair whipping as he came to face Deyanira at the exact moment she stepped through the threshold of the Temple. Lips thinned almost instantly, eyes narrowing as he gazed at the woman.

He did not recognize her. "Who are you?"

The Nordwiir demanded, though his hands remained at rest by his sides.

 

[Deyanira]

The amethyst of her eyes flared brightly for a moment as her gaze snapped toward the male, and for a moment she froze, staring at him, unblinking and without breathing. He wasn't an ordinary man, that much was clear, though what he was doing here she could not fathom. If he'd been sent here to stop her, then that was a problem.

She glanced to the crumbling tomb in the centre of the crypt, noting that it appeared unopened, and then drew her gaze back to him before speaking calmly.

"Deyanira." she answered plainly, for she couldn't lie about that detail, nor did she care to. "And who are you?..And what are you doing here?" she asked, her accent entirely her own and that of one who had travelled many places and learned many languages.

 

[Kol]

The Sorcerer looked her up and down. "I am Kol, Twice Bloodied."

His people had no last name, and it seemed that hers did not either. Or at least she did not wish to share it. A frown touched his lips for a brief moment.

She was whom the Dark Gods had spoken to him about, there was no question in that. He had long ago given up his belief in coincidence. Their whispers were often misleading, cryptic, but they did not lie. Not when it came to something like this.

"I was brought here." He told her, taking a slow step towards her. "Told that I would meet someone who could bring me closer to what I want."

Slowly the Sorcerer began to approach Deyanira, watching her, inspecting.

Was she just another woman? Or something more.

 

[Deyanira]

Her gaze narrowed at his name, trying and failing to place it. As he moved toward her, she casually side-stepped toward the tomb, letting her fingertips trace around the dusty words engraved in the stone around its edge. Her eyes remained on Kol, however, with hesitant curiosity.

"Brought here?" she glanced around, certain that there was nobody else here. "By whom? And..." she asked, and paused at the head of the tomb, her hands splaying flat over the stone.

"What is it that you want?"

 

[Kol]

The Sorcerer slowly took a step to the side, letting Deyanira float her fingers over the side of the tomb. "Those who whisper to me from beyond."

He had never been shy about the Dark Gods, the voices that whispered in his skull.

Some claimed that he had been driven mad long ago, others that he was blessed, and still others that he had been cursed to a fate worse than death. Kol still had not decided, still did not know if the Dark Gods were real or just voices that he heard.

But it didn't matter. "I want to end my people's suffering."

The Sorcerer said simply.

"And you?" He asked. "What has brought you here? To a temple most would rather have forgotten."

 

[Deyanira]

She hadn't had time to consider what he had said about those 'beyond' when she smiled in genuine amusement at his answer to her second question.

"I am afraid, Kol, Twice Bloodied, that you have been given some very bad advice." she said quietly. Deyanira did not end suffering, she created it. Her head tilted as she looked over him, her hands sliding to the edges of the lid of the tomb, bracing herself to pull.

"I want to ease my suffering." she answered.

 

[Kol]

"It is the only kind I ever receive from them." Kol noted, though for some reason he smiled as he said it.

The Dark Gods were rarely forthcoming of their true purpose, why they had him do what he did. More often than not he had to figure out why, what, and sometimes even when. Yet always there was opportunity, he just had to find it.

He glanced down as she braced herself on the tomb. "What is your suffering, then?"

Kol asked.

"I do not think this Temple will help you end it." Slowly the Sorcerer looked around the empty hall. "I do not think this place can do much of anything anymore."

 

[Deyanira]

"A cage." Deyanira answered, and stone scraped stone as the lid started to move. It was clear that in such a small and slender frame, such a heavy object was particularly challenging for her to move, but little by little it shifted.

"He was laid to rest with something that will far better serve me. He has no need of it." she answered, her voice strained with effort. Having moved it enough, she peered inside, and where there should have sat an amulet around the skeleton's neck, there was nothing.

"No.." Deyanira shook. It was a maddening thing to hold the fury of a God in the fragile containment of a human body. It was a constant, raging storm that she had, over time, learned to live with - but there were still times where it took her by surprise and she felt wrath enough to destroy the entire fucking world with it.

How far had she walked to reach this place? How long had she searched? Her hands braced on the edge of the tomb and her head bowed, her shoulders shaking as though she might have succumbed to sobs, but the sound of gasps slowly gave way to manic laughter.

 

[Kol]

Kol watched from the sidelines as first she revealed the key to her cage...and then found it already gone. The Sorcerer tilted his head slowly, watching the woman fall into a slow, manic laughter. Her shoulders shaking, her head bowed over the tomb.

It was a sight that would have disturbed most, caused them to step back, perhaps even run from the Temple itself.

Yet the Sorcerer found himself only intrigued. What cage was she trying to escape? Why would this place have held the key? Most importantly...why had the Dark Gods brought him here? Who was this woman, what could she do for him.

"The key was taken. A dragons heart stands guard."​

The whisper was quiet, soft. Ringing within his mind.

"If it is a door you seek." Kol said slowly. "Then I can help you find it."

 

[Deyanira]

The woman stopped laughing, falling to instant silence and stillness as Kol spoke, and slowly her eyes rose to look at him. Despite her laughter, there was a burning fury in her expression now. She let a slow, steading breath escape her lips as she straightened and smoothed out her silken jacket and lifted her chin.

"I have grown so very tired of games, Kol, Twice-Bloodied." she said with unnerving calm. It was a warning, that if his offered help was to be another trick, that she would seek a way to express her ire in the most creative of ways.

"An amulet that I require has been taken from this crypt, no doubt by the priestess who sent me here from Ragash." she sneered at her own foolishness, and for not leaving the priestess alive to question her further. It had been a false trail set by those whose purpose in life had been dedicated to keeping her in chains. Their numbers had dwindled over the centuries, but there were still a scant few here and there across the world that she had yet to purge.

"If you indeed have means to help me.. Your rewards would be great." her dark brow arched.

 

[Kol]

Kol mused for a moment, watching the woman.

He wondered what she was. What this amulet was meant to do. It was a mystery, one that he couldn't help but be intrigued by. "I have never been one to play games."

The Nordwiir said simply, considering for a moment. He glanced down at the skeleton within the tomb, and then slowly his fingers curled shut. Peeling from the air itself, black flecks formed together within his palm. A knife, it's blade curved and carved with runes appeared within his palm.

It's tip set into his flesh, drawing a short line of crimson.

Droplets of blood fell into the tomb, splashing upon the ivory of bone.

The Sorcerer took a step back as the blood began to fade, seeming to draw into the ear. Where he stood a figure appeared, bathed in ethereal blue light. The silhouette hunched over the tomb, reaching into it and drawing back. The shape of an amulet was within it's palm as it took a step away, the cloak drawing away from it's head just far enough to reveal a face.

"The Priestess?" Kol asked, looking at the woman curiously.

 

[Deyanira]

Her gaze was polished crystal as she watched him conjure the curious blade, and her brows slowly rose as she watched the exchange of blood for the gift of hindsight. Her jaw tightened as she watched the ghostly apparition of the Priestess she'd murdered with her bare hands over a year ago. She let a mirthless laugh pass her lips and she looked away foolishly.

"She certainly was convincing." she muttered. Even in tremendous pain, the Priestess had known well enough that she wouldn't see the light of day again, and that it wouldn't have mattered if she'd lied or told the demanded truth. "I have to admire her resolve." Deya huffed and folded her arms across her chest, turning to regard Kol in a new light.

"You are human?" she asked, her head tilting as she let her gaze study the sorcerer and the conjured blade. Blood magic was one of the oldest sorts of magic, one of the darkest sorts. It caused her to reconsider those voices that he spoke of, and who he served.

 

[Kol]

"Those who serve their gods often wield the most silver tongues." Kol said, a soft, almost ironic smile drawing over his lips.

He wondered if other Gods lied as much as his own.

A hand reached up, flickering through the shimmering form of the priestess. The silhouette dispersed around his palm. Small glimpses of the light seemed to flicker through the air, as if the magic was doing it's best to remain.

"Draw her in."
"Take what is offered."
"Seize more."​

The voices whispered.

"Something close, I think." He told her. "Long ago."

Kol paused for a moment. "My people come from the north. From isles lost to histories, lands better forgotten. Twisted from our kin, who themselves are only a shadow of normal man."

Over the last few years he had learned more of the split between his own people and the Nordenfiir. The curse and blessings that the Dark Gods had branded upon his kin. Some would have claimed them human, but the truth of their bond was proof otherwise.

"Guarded by a Dragon's Heart." Kol said suddenly. "Do the words mean something to you?"

 

[Deyanira]

Deyanira was rarely curious. Most she met that insisted on speaking to her were all the same, their lives so short and unremarkable. They were tedious, and they'd spread across Arethil like a plague of insignificant insects who were long overdue an extermination. Kol however, had piqued her curiosity, and she watched him like a feline, tilting her head one way and then the other as he spoke.

"Guarded by a Dragon's heart..." she repeated almost silently, as though recalling a memory. Her gaze narrowed and she looked to him with a furrowing brow. "Where did you hear that?" she demanded.

 

[Kol]

The Sorcerer only smiled. "Whispers."

He was always leery when speaking of the Gods, perhaps because he was still not entirely certain if they were real. The Blessings they often gave him certainly were, the gifts his people received a mark for their existence. Yet there was always doubt, a trickle of disbelief.

"Small truths mixed with lies." Kol told her honestly. "Spoken to me by voices beyond."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "They were what lead me here."

What told him to continue on this path. To take what reward she offered, and then seize even more.

"Do you recognize the words?" He asked, as the voices once again began to whisper. This time the chaos of their shouts overtook one another, no clarity to their call.

 

[Deyanira]

Deyanira eyed the man warily, uncertain of these voices he seemed to hear and who or what they belonged to. If they, and he, would work in her favour or to her detriment. The voices in her own mind had long ago left her in silence, and she'd long ago stopped screaming for them to free her. They didn't listen. They didn't care.

"Yes. I believe they mean The Ormr. He was the one who forged the Abraxas in the first place. A Dragonborn, who swore an oath to help prevent my freedom and the one who enchanted the cage that I spent several decades locked inside.." the woman growled in frustration.

"Kill him for me. Protect me and kill him and when I am free you will have whatever you desire." she offered.

 

[Kol]

Kol tilted his head slowly as he listened to her explanation. He had never heard of a dragonborn before, but the nature of such a man was explained in the words. Lips thinned as she said decades, her appearance a mark of the fact that she was indeed not mortal.

So what was she?

That was the question which reigned over him now. "A simple enough bargain."

For a few moments he considered, pondering. Voices whispered in his head, some urging him to accept, others crying simply to slit her throat and take what she had. Some just screamed to scream. Echoing their calls in his mind.

Then, finally, the Sorcerer agreed with a nod. "I will do this thing for you."

He had slaughtered great Frost Wyrms in the Tundra, how much trouble could a Dragonborn be? He likely wielded magics, of a sort, but so did he.

"Where was this cage?" Kol asked with a frown. He would have to find this man before he could kill him.

 

[Deyanira]

"Sheketh." she answered bluntly with a growl of irritation in her tone.

Deyanira did not trust in the promises of mortals, hells she didn't trust in the promises of Gods either. From her belt she produced a small blade of bloodstone and without hesitation, drew it across her palm.

"A promise made with this blade is bound to the life of the one who makes it." she spoke calmly, her dark brow arching quizzically, wondering if he'd be prepared to make such an oath. She held out her bleeding palm, and the blade, awaiting his decision.

 

[Kol]

The Isle of Sheketh was no mystery to Kol. He had visited twice in his lifetime. Once as an honored guest, and once as a slave. The two cities he had seen there had been harsh, and it's people strong. A frown pulled at his lips, wondering if they would venture to the city of Tyre.

His eyes wandered to the blood soaking on her palm, and for a moment he considered. "It is not the first such oath I have taken."

But in that, he had known all the stakes.

Such magics were not easily broken, even by the Dark Gods. He was bound to them above such means, but a puppet with too many strings could be torn apart by them all. A fact which Kol knew all too well. Yet they continued to whisper, to urge him on.

There was too much offered.

Too much to be gained.

Kol raised his hand towards Deyanira, flickering up his palm where she would see dozens upon dozens of scars having long since healed.

 

[Deyanira]

Deya's lips curled and reached to steady his hand and draw the blade across the offered palm, letting the blood pool for a few seconds before she placed her bleeding hand in his and squeezed. Her blood would burn through him. It was not meant for any mortal body to hold, and there was such power held within it which had been denied an outlet for hundreds of years.

If he survived, he would prove himself worthy of being up to the task that he'd agreed to. If not... Well that would be disappointing.

 

[Kol]

Kol was no stranger to pain.

He had taken souls greater than his own. Had stolen blood that belonged to gods. He was a Sorcerer. An enigma to his own people. He had ceased being a mortal man long ago. Given up the title of ordinary the moment of his second blooding.

Almost as soon as their hands clasped together he could feel the pain lance through his skin.

Her blood seeped into his flesh, traveling through his veins and reaching through him with an arch of chaos.

Agony and desperation flooded his system in an instant. The whisper of the Dark Gods turned into screams. Their voices seemed to reverberate, echo, and for the first time Deyanira would hear them too. Through the bond of blood, through the slight connection she would hear their shout.

The echo of their voice was a screech, reverberating again and again like steel scraping over iron.

It carved away at consciousness, dragged against all sense and semblance until suddenly it crew silent once more.

As the voice went quiet, Kol seemed to straighten. His features tightened, and the grip on her hand went stale as the Sorcerer took a long breath. "You will get what you desire."

Kol seemed to speak with more than one voice. A dozen. A thousand echoing him.

"We will see to it." He said, his fingers squeezing her stolen flesh.

 

[Deyanira]

Deya's dark brows sloped downward as she heard voices that belonged to neither of them. She wasn't afraid and she'd suffered far worse tortures than the terrible sound they made. Her moonlit eyes stared, unblinking at Kol as she listened to them, the Gods that spoke to him, the dark ones.

Their answer caused her brow to quirk and her lips to twitch in curiosity and amusement, clearly pleased with the outcome. She squeezed back at his hand and dipped her chin, the deal done and the oath made. The wound on her palm was nothing but a silvery scar as she withdrew her hand.

"Then lets waste no time in starting the journey. We've a long road to travel." she sighed, her smile tight-lipped.

 

[Kol]

He nodded his head.

The two of them were thousands of miles from Sheketh. Dozens of leagues before they even reached anywhere close. "You can take the Portal stones?"

Kol asked, unsure if her...composition would allow such things.

Though he did not understand why, the Dark Gods despised the stones. He knew not why, but each time he used them his patrons went into a fury. They knew the use of them, even understood the benefits, and yet there was a hatred.

He did not know if it was the same for her.

"It would be the fastest way, but..." Kol offered. "There is also a harbor to the north."