W
War of the Roses
Guest
The sickening smell of rotting flesh and dried blood permeated the dank cave. The heavy rasping breathing of the various dragons, drakes and wyverns that inhabit this horrid lair echoed from deep within. I shivered, my blood turning to icy shards of terror as my senses become invaded with these horrors.
With a small wave of my hand and the whispering of “In Lor” the shadows crept slowly away from me. Yet I could feel the walls breath, and see the thick sticky pools of blood upon the floor of the cave. Softly kicking Chicken’s flank I urge the trembling steed forward. Tossing her head and nickering so softly as only to be a whisper she moved forward.
I knew that I must find two of these fearsome and mighty beasts, or my skill would be all for naught. The roaring of an angered beast came from my left, and a thought sprang to my mind, what if I die? I shuddered, then dug into my pack, my ears listening to the slow dragging sounds coming from close beside me.
“FWHOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH”
My eyes as wide as saucers, my lashes singed and my face burning from the nearness of the flame. I stood dumbstruck for a moment, and I can only imagine the look upon Chickens singed face as well. Comical would probably be the apt word, but during the moment of inflection on my situation I saw little humor.
I fumbled for my lute as another dragon drew close, their hides the color of the wicked flames that had just touched my face. Chicken danced, whinnying loudly in protests, and I struggled to keep my balance.
With giant tails swaying menacingly behind them the two dragons approached. I swallowed thickly, beads of sweat trickling down my face as I placed my fingers upon my lute. I drew myself up with as much courage as I could muster and ...
“TWANGGGGGGGG...SPROING!!!” Oh NO! The horror, my string had broke, my skill had failed me. I stared numbly at the lute, curses running through my mind as I wondered what to do.
A roar flooded my ears, the heat that enveloped me was so hot I could barely feel it. And with the turning of the tables I was quickly looking at the world through gray lenses. Apparently decision making was not something you could take time with when fighting these beasts. I watched as Chicken put up a short but valiant fight and fell soundly upon my dead corpse.
My mind raced, being so new to this world certainly left a girl with few options as to her resurrection. I turned and my shadowy form worked its way to the entrance of the cave. I emerged on the other side, only to stumble into several other fellow ghosts who were huddled outside, chanting expletives at a rather rude man who taunted us and laughed at our misfortunes. Obviously waiting for our corpses to turn to bones so that our treasures could be looted. In my case, as unfortunate as it was, he would gain nothing from my bones, save a few tattered bandages.
I looked around, the world a pale and ghastly shade of gray, wondering what I should do at that moment. Franticly I dug through my books, searching for perhaps one soul who would be up and coherent at this hour to come to my aid.
Soon a pigeon was sent and I sat contemplating the gray world and awaiting my savior. The other transparent forms around me ranted and raged about the unfairness of their deaths, swearing at the inhumanity of some folks, damning all that passed them by, ignoring their pleas for life.
After a time, that seemed forever to one who is trapped in a rather dull and colorless world, two men approached me. I spotted their feet before noticing their arrival. One, dressed in a robe the color of copper, his thick dark hair was drawn away from his face and tied neatly at his neck, eyes that held the weariness of a warrior and the soft kindness that he apparently tried often to conceal. He was a formidable yet roughly handsome man, and it took me a moment to recognize him as Skyshroud.
The other gentleman stood quietly beside him, a faint look of amusement upon his boyishly handsome countenance. Clad in dark armor from neck to toe, his stance ready and alert, long hair draped haphazardly and joyously tousled over his shoulders. I had met this man only once and knew him only as Krowe. A fitting name on hind sight.
Skyshroud held out his hand, making haste in his attempts to resurrect my fallen spirit. His brow drew together in a deep scowl as his attempts repeatedly failed. He caught himself from using several choice words as applied bandage after bandage. Soon Krowe began to assist in my healing. To no avail.
Puzzled the two men took a step back, contemplating my shadowy form with curious looks. I watched, silent, since my words would only come to them as a garbled song of moans.
“Ah ha!” Skyshroud exclaimed, his face lightening as he leaned forward to examine my death shroud.
“What is it friend?” Krowe inquired curiously.
“She is of the Snits, ‘tis no wonder our healing did us no good.”
Krowe nodded in agreement, and I stood dumbly, wondering if this meant my death was to be permanent due to my affiliation with the Snits.
“Rose, we need to find you a healer. As our magic, nor our skill with a bandage will do you any good. You are in a warring guild.” Skyshroud spoke, as if that made all the sense in the world.
I shook my ghostly head in agreement, because life was becoming rather urgent to me at this point, I fear that I may have begun to forget the colors of the living world. Just as this decision was made another ghost ran from the gapping maw of the dungeon, not stopping to ask for life from my two companions.
“Hail my good man!” I hollered after the fleeing spirit.
The fellow stopped, spinning on his feet to face me. “Yes?”
“Where is it that you are running to?”
“The healers, just ‘round the side of the mountain, by the Two Kings Bridge”
“Ahh! Thank you my good man!” I was overjoyed.
Quickly I followed the ghostly form, winding through the trees and bushes that surrounded the bridge. Krowe and Skyshroud hollering for me at the dungeons entrance. I kept steady on his path, not wishing to miss my chance at life!
“Thou Hast strayed from the path of the Virtues, but thou art innocent and deserve a second chance!” A soft feminine voice spoke from the shadows of the trees.
The world shifted and faded, I began to feel the first pulsing of warm blood in my veins. The wondrous colors of the world sprang suddenly before me, blinding me for a moment with their vigor. I gasped as a long sweet shuddering breath filled my lungs, brushing away the last remnants of the dust of death. I was overjoyed! Elation and glee filled me as I turned to the healer who had so quickly wrought life back into me.
“Thank you, oh thank you ever so much!” I bowed humbly before the woman dressed in a drab tan robe.
She nodded quickly and turned and shuffled off into the woods. I smiled, feeling warm and happy. I dug into my pack, dressing as I ran back to the dungeon and my companions who awaited me. I skirted deftly around a group of orcs that had captured some poor soul. Wishing that I could help in some way. I picked a few tunes on my lute and soon several of the horrid orcs were dancing in a death match between themselves.
Running around the corner of a small marble shop I came to an abrupt halt. My face beaming with life as I profusely thanked the men for coming to my immediate aid, even though they where unable to assist in bringing back life, their efforts were greatly appreciated.
We talked in a huddled group outside of the terrible cave, the men sure that I could conquer the beasts within if only I was more cautious and aware. They offered their assistance readily, both poised for a fight. Finally I consented to returning to the cave. I gathered my will and my wits and followed them cautiously back into the foul gapping maw...
From the Journals of Rose Bush
With a small wave of my hand and the whispering of “In Lor” the shadows crept slowly away from me. Yet I could feel the walls breath, and see the thick sticky pools of blood upon the floor of the cave. Softly kicking Chicken’s flank I urge the trembling steed forward. Tossing her head and nickering so softly as only to be a whisper she moved forward.
I knew that I must find two of these fearsome and mighty beasts, or my skill would be all for naught. The roaring of an angered beast came from my left, and a thought sprang to my mind, what if I die? I shuddered, then dug into my pack, my ears listening to the slow dragging sounds coming from close beside me.
“FWHOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH”
My eyes as wide as saucers, my lashes singed and my face burning from the nearness of the flame. I stood dumbstruck for a moment, and I can only imagine the look upon Chickens singed face as well. Comical would probably be the apt word, but during the moment of inflection on my situation I saw little humor.
I fumbled for my lute as another dragon drew close, their hides the color of the wicked flames that had just touched my face. Chicken danced, whinnying loudly in protests, and I struggled to keep my balance.
With giant tails swaying menacingly behind them the two dragons approached. I swallowed thickly, beads of sweat trickling down my face as I placed my fingers upon my lute. I drew myself up with as much courage as I could muster and ...
“TWANGGGGGGGG...SPROING!!!” Oh NO! The horror, my string had broke, my skill had failed me. I stared numbly at the lute, curses running through my mind as I wondered what to do.
A roar flooded my ears, the heat that enveloped me was so hot I could barely feel it. And with the turning of the tables I was quickly looking at the world through gray lenses. Apparently decision making was not something you could take time with when fighting these beasts. I watched as Chicken put up a short but valiant fight and fell soundly upon my dead corpse.
My mind raced, being so new to this world certainly left a girl with few options as to her resurrection. I turned and my shadowy form worked its way to the entrance of the cave. I emerged on the other side, only to stumble into several other fellow ghosts who were huddled outside, chanting expletives at a rather rude man who taunted us and laughed at our misfortunes. Obviously waiting for our corpses to turn to bones so that our treasures could be looted. In my case, as unfortunate as it was, he would gain nothing from my bones, save a few tattered bandages.
I looked around, the world a pale and ghastly shade of gray, wondering what I should do at that moment. Franticly I dug through my books, searching for perhaps one soul who would be up and coherent at this hour to come to my aid.
Soon a pigeon was sent and I sat contemplating the gray world and awaiting my savior. The other transparent forms around me ranted and raged about the unfairness of their deaths, swearing at the inhumanity of some folks, damning all that passed them by, ignoring their pleas for life.
After a time, that seemed forever to one who is trapped in a rather dull and colorless world, two men approached me. I spotted their feet before noticing their arrival. One, dressed in a robe the color of copper, his thick dark hair was drawn away from his face and tied neatly at his neck, eyes that held the weariness of a warrior and the soft kindness that he apparently tried often to conceal. He was a formidable yet roughly handsome man, and it took me a moment to recognize him as Skyshroud.
The other gentleman stood quietly beside him, a faint look of amusement upon his boyishly handsome countenance. Clad in dark armor from neck to toe, his stance ready and alert, long hair draped haphazardly and joyously tousled over his shoulders. I had met this man only once and knew him only as Krowe. A fitting name on hind sight.
Skyshroud held out his hand, making haste in his attempts to resurrect my fallen spirit. His brow drew together in a deep scowl as his attempts repeatedly failed. He caught himself from using several choice words as applied bandage after bandage. Soon Krowe began to assist in my healing. To no avail.
Puzzled the two men took a step back, contemplating my shadowy form with curious looks. I watched, silent, since my words would only come to them as a garbled song of moans.
“Ah ha!” Skyshroud exclaimed, his face lightening as he leaned forward to examine my death shroud.
“What is it friend?” Krowe inquired curiously.
“She is of the Snits, ‘tis no wonder our healing did us no good.”
Krowe nodded in agreement, and I stood dumbly, wondering if this meant my death was to be permanent due to my affiliation with the Snits.
“Rose, we need to find you a healer. As our magic, nor our skill with a bandage will do you any good. You are in a warring guild.” Skyshroud spoke, as if that made all the sense in the world.
I shook my ghostly head in agreement, because life was becoming rather urgent to me at this point, I fear that I may have begun to forget the colors of the living world. Just as this decision was made another ghost ran from the gapping maw of the dungeon, not stopping to ask for life from my two companions.
“Hail my good man!” I hollered after the fleeing spirit.
The fellow stopped, spinning on his feet to face me. “Yes?”
“Where is it that you are running to?”
“The healers, just ‘round the side of the mountain, by the Two Kings Bridge”
“Ahh! Thank you my good man!” I was overjoyed.
Quickly I followed the ghostly form, winding through the trees and bushes that surrounded the bridge. Krowe and Skyshroud hollering for me at the dungeons entrance. I kept steady on his path, not wishing to miss my chance at life!
“Thou Hast strayed from the path of the Virtues, but thou art innocent and deserve a second chance!” A soft feminine voice spoke from the shadows of the trees.
The world shifted and faded, I began to feel the first pulsing of warm blood in my veins. The wondrous colors of the world sprang suddenly before me, blinding me for a moment with their vigor. I gasped as a long sweet shuddering breath filled my lungs, brushing away the last remnants of the dust of death. I was overjoyed! Elation and glee filled me as I turned to the healer who had so quickly wrought life back into me.
“Thank you, oh thank you ever so much!” I bowed humbly before the woman dressed in a drab tan robe.
She nodded quickly and turned and shuffled off into the woods. I smiled, feeling warm and happy. I dug into my pack, dressing as I ran back to the dungeon and my companions who awaited me. I skirted deftly around a group of orcs that had captured some poor soul. Wishing that I could help in some way. I picked a few tunes on my lute and soon several of the horrid orcs were dancing in a death match between themselves.
Running around the corner of a small marble shop I came to an abrupt halt. My face beaming with life as I profusely thanked the men for coming to my immediate aid, even though they where unable to assist in bringing back life, their efforts were greatly appreciated.
We talked in a huddled group outside of the terrible cave, the men sure that I could conquer the beasts within if only I was more cautious and aware. They offered their assistance readily, both poised for a fight. Finally I consented to returning to the cave. I gathered my will and my wits and followed them cautiously back into the foul gapping maw...
From the Journals of Rose Bush
. Sorry about the lost of Chicken, I hope you fine another worthy steed to carry you on your aventures here, it to bad that Chicken met his end as dragon snack:-(