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piosenniel · 04-05-2004, 11:14 AM

Prologue - Arvedui III's post

The first thing he remembered, very dimly, was the old instructor, scolding him over a small cut.

‘It's painful' he had cried in a pitiful, childish moan that is a plea for older, stronger beings to take pity and speak words of love and comfort. But the shriveled, scared weapons-master instead gave him a hard slap across the face. ‘Painful!?!' He had roared. ‘Fool boy. You do not know the meaning of pain!' As he lay in the cold darkness, unable to master his body even to the point of opening his eyes, he thought then that he now had an idea as to what the old man had meant. The pounding of his temples would surely reach the point to where his head would explode like the fabled Orthanc fire of the great war. Every inch of him felt leaden, even though he had discarded his armor days ago. Had it been days? How long had he been lying here? And just where was here, anyway?

His questions overriding his apparent hurts, he opened his eyes, but not without a valiant struggle against his heavy eyelids. It also seemed every inch of his body wanted to sink back into sleep. The ghostly moonlight sulked into a crake of the jagged, black ceiling of wherever he was, a wet, sickening heat hovering all about the air, as if mocking what real air should be like, bent on tormenting all who could feel it. And it certainly was working. He felt like reaching, but pushed past the sensation for the moment to survey his surrounding. He appeared to be in a cave of some kind, but with only the moon for light he could not be sure of how high up he was or how deep the crevice ran. What surprised him, though, as he blinked in the darkness, was that he was not bound. Although, as he tried and failed to sit up, he realized whoever had brought him to this place didn't need chains to keep him here. His own body would betray him to that end, and quite honestly, he was too tired to care.

What little strength he had amassed in sleep was leaving him, but suddenly the blurred image of what perhaps had caused his pain and unconsciousness was not.

It was as if a torch had been lit in his pounding head. The glow...lights against the water...unceasing, merciless drums, hammering like the pounding of his head. And suddenly he was afraid and turned his head wildly around. What if they came back? The sensation of hard wood and leather being hit against his aching skin returned with the full force of a blow to his mind. Rather in vain, he tried to back away, to force his legs by shear fear and will to respond and speed him from this accursed place. He should never have come here. All the rush of dread and memory achieved however, was that he knocked his head against rock. He then lay still, a pit of fear welling in his stomach, pain seeping into his entire body, weariness finally claiming him. Just before he passed into darkness again, he thought with a sickening clarity that he fully understood what true pain the old teacher spoke of meant.

He knew that he was going to die here.

04-05-2004, 11:14 AM	#1
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	Search for Rhûn RPG Prologue - Arvedui III's post The first thing he remembered, very dimly, was the old instructor, scolding him over a small cut. ‘It's painful' he had cried in a pitiful, childish moan that is a plea for older, stronger beings to take pity and speak words of love and comfort. But the shriveled, scared weapons-master instead gave him a hard slap across the face. ‘Painful!?!' He had roared. ‘Fool boy. You do not know the meaning of pain!' As he lay in the cold darkness, unable to master his body even to the point of opening his eyes, he thought then that he now had an idea as to what the old man had meant. The pounding of his temples would surely reach the point to where his head would explode like the fabled Orthanc fire of the great war. Every inch of him felt leaden, even though he had discarded his armor days ago. Had it been days? How long had he been lying here? And just where was here, anyway? His questions overriding his apparent hurts, he opened his eyes, but not without a valiant struggle against his heavy eyelids. It also seemed every inch of his body wanted to sink back into sleep. The ghostly moonlight sulked into a crake of the jagged, black ceiling of wherever he was, a wet, sickening heat hovering all about the air, as if mocking what real air should be like, bent on tormenting all who could feel it. And it certainly was working. He felt like reaching, but pushed past the sensation for the moment to survey his surrounding. He appeared to be in a cave of some kind, but with only the moon for light he could not be sure of how high up he was or how deep the crevice ran. What surprised him, though, as he blinked in the darkness, was that he was not bound. Although, as he tried and failed to sit up, he realized whoever had brought him to this place didn't need chains to keep him here. His own body would betray him to that end, and quite honestly, he was too tired to care. What little strength he had amassed in sleep was leaving him, but suddenly the blurred image of what perhaps had caused his pain and unconsciousness was not. It was as if a torch had been lit in his pounding head. The glow...lights against the water...unceasing, merciless drums, hammering like the pounding of his head. And suddenly he was afraid and turned his head wildly around. What if they came back? The sensation of hard wood and leather being hit against his aching skin returned with the full force of a blow to his mind. Rather in vain, he tried to back away, to force his legs by shear fear and will to respond and speed him from this accursed place. He should never have come here. All the rush of dread and memory achieved however, was that he knocked his head against rock. He then lay still, a pit of fear welling in his stomach, pain seeping into his entire body, weariness finally claiming him. Just before he passed into darkness again, he thought with a sickening clarity that he fully understood what true pain the old teacher spoke of meant. He knew that he was going to die here.