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((With Mach no longer dm-ing *whimpers*, I am just going to take the reins on a side-story he and I were working together on. Given his desire to give me as much freedom as he could in the matter, I do not believe he would mind. However, if I do anything that any DM feels is better handled by themselves, let me know.))
Slowly the veil of clouds moved aside, a curtain unveiling a moon spotlight to cascade upon a wicked play already in progress among an open field of farmland. The two gentlemen stared at one another, each possessing a large greatsword in both hands. One man possessed eyes of emerald, shrouded beneath the brim of a feathered hat that had been with him for what seemed like ages now. The other man stood with exact height and proportions as the first, but his eyes possessed a strange ruby tint to them. Even beneath the hood and mask he wore, they shined with a certain sense of bloodlust.
“Well Osclow Wiltenholm ..” the ruby-eyed man said, putting a certain degree of mockery into his voice tones with every syllable of the name spoken. “What happens next? I’m dying to know.”
“It was you who lead me out here for this little dance, so you tell me.” the emerald-eyed bard responded. He refused to show fear, refused to show doubt. This foe was unlike any other and the game of their battle transcended beyond mere clashing of the blades they wielded. The struggle was a mental one as well, with each side possessing a will unyielding. “You might as well remove that mask. I already know your face quite well.” A smirk crossed Osclow’s visage, trying to maintain its integrity. If only this ruby-eyed monstrosity knew how afraid he actually was, the battle would be over in but a moment.
“Fair enough.” the ruby-eyed one responded, pulling back the hood and mask as his right hand held tightly to his sword. There was no surprise on the bard’s face, nor did he expect there to be, even with the slight changes he had made. Unlike the bard, the ruby-eyed man allowed his ash-blonde hair to run long and free down the back of his neck and lightly touching upon his shoulders. His skin was slightly more pale, and he had allowed a slightly rugged beard to begin growing in untouched.
Despite these small differences, as well as the different expressions each wore, the two men looked virtually identical, like twin brothers.
“I really owe you a thanks for this handsome face of yours.” the ruby-eyed man said, once more with mocking tone and a snicker. “It has made for quite an entertaining series of evenings. Last night….elven sisters… absolutely delicious.”
The manner of which this wicked shell of a man licked his lips made the bard cringe with a cold, sick fear. It had almost seemed he had indeed gone beyond physical pleasure and actually devoured the flesh of the poor women he spoke of. Such disrespect broke the resolve of the bard and he charged forward, steps light upon the barely grown corn stalks and fresh soil. His blade raised and came down with a loud metal clang upon the ruby-eyed man’s sword brought up to an easy deflection. Osclow planted his feet and twisted his body quickly around, bending his knees and bringing his blade around his entire body aimed for the legs of his opponent on its return trip back to his front. Momentum had carried the large sword with great force, further aided by the speed of the bard, enhanced by the touch of arcane spells weaved into his form moments ago. A cleaver assault it might have been, but did not change the fact that he was practically fighting a mirror who moved as he did and knew all his tricks. The ruby-eyed man saw the assault coming and planted his blade fiercely into the earth after the first deflection, allowing the earth to cushion the fierce impact Osclow had attempted to bring upon him. The failure of the assault had finally revealed the fear within the bard’s heart and had sealed his fate of defeat. The boot of the ruby-eyed man came hard upon his exposed face, sending Osclow through an old and worn section of the fence enclosed around the cornfield.
Struggling to his feet, the bard realized he had lost his blade. All focus shifted quickly away from this however and toward the right hook that claimed his face. A grunt of pain and a small splatter of blood escaped the bard as he fell backward and landed hard against the surface of a tall spruce tree. Worn and weary, he begin to slide down the form of the tree, eyes opening once more to what seemed destined to be the last thing Osclow would see in this life. The blade of the ruby-eyed man lunged forward but not to claim the heart of the bard, but instead along his left shoulder, piercing through wood and sawing several inches into flesh and blood of the bard. Osclow let out a howl of pain to the painful bite that easily cut through the chain he habitually wore. To this pain the ruby-eyed man found an almost euphoric delight and no shame in making such quite visible. Revenge was so very sweet and he reveled in every groan of misery this man.. THIS damned bard endured.
“I am surprised Osclow… Uncertainty never frightened you before, but now it slows your steps.” the ruby-eyed man followed his own blade all the way down to the one whose visage he claimed, standing triumphantly over the now broken and confused bard. “If I kill him, will I die as well?” the ruby-eyed man said in a mocking rendition of the questions going through Osclow’s mind. “If I don’t kill him, will he kill others?” a snicker escaped him as the taste of fear of the unknown in the bard’s eyes was almost as sweet as the pain he granted to him a short while ago.
Their eyes met and the bard’s narrowed in revealing anger.
“Usurper… defiler!…”
The ruby-eyed man feigned a hurt look.
“Defiler?… My dear bard, you seem to forget whose choices brought this about in the first place. What truly have I done worse than what you have done to yourself? The mark you bear now is the result of your own actions.”
Wearily, the bard placed his hand over a spot in the center of his chest.
“I shall let you in on a little secret Osclow Wiltenholm…” the ruby-eyed man continued, once more speaking the bard’s full name with a smirk of mockery and a tone of hatred. “I find you as intriguing as I do disgusting… From the very start, all that you have seen was a test …an experiment. Until you stumbled along, we have had nothing but failure. But, your body was different and quite receptive to the corruption you see…”
“Wh..what do you mean?” Osclow asked, trying to maintain what little integrity remained.
“A side project.. Nothing more. I am the only survivor of it and now it holds little interest even to me. I am much more interested in you Osclow.”
“Me?… what in the hells for?”
“Your suffering and development make for an interesting show my dear bard. I am quite excited to see how the next act will turn out.”
With that, the blade was wrenched free from the spruce and the bard’s shoulder, gaining a fierce grunt of pain. The ruby-eyed man took the time to enjoy Osclow’s beaten form once more before departing into the night.
Slowly the veil of clouds moved aside, a curtain unveiling a moon spotlight to cascade upon a wicked play already in progress among an open field of farmland. The two gentlemen stared at one another, each possessing a large greatsword in both hands. One man possessed eyes of emerald, shrouded beneath the brim of a feathered hat that had been with him for what seemed like ages now. The other man stood with exact height and proportions as the first, but his eyes possessed a strange ruby tint to them. Even beneath the hood and mask he wore, they shined with a certain sense of bloodlust.
“Well Osclow Wiltenholm ..” the ruby-eyed man said, putting a certain degree of mockery into his voice tones with every syllable of the name spoken. “What happens next? I’m dying to know.”
“It was you who lead me out here for this little dance, so you tell me.” the emerald-eyed bard responded. He refused to show fear, refused to show doubt. This foe was unlike any other and the game of their battle transcended beyond mere clashing of the blades they wielded. The struggle was a mental one as well, with each side possessing a will unyielding. “You might as well remove that mask. I already know your face quite well.” A smirk crossed Osclow’s visage, trying to maintain its integrity. If only this ruby-eyed monstrosity knew how afraid he actually was, the battle would be over in but a moment.
“Fair enough.” the ruby-eyed one responded, pulling back the hood and mask as his right hand held tightly to his sword. There was no surprise on the bard’s face, nor did he expect there to be, even with the slight changes he had made. Unlike the bard, the ruby-eyed man allowed his ash-blonde hair to run long and free down the back of his neck and lightly touching upon his shoulders. His skin was slightly more pale, and he had allowed a slightly rugged beard to begin growing in untouched.
Despite these small differences, as well as the different expressions each wore, the two men looked virtually identical, like twin brothers.
“I really owe you a thanks for this handsome face of yours.” the ruby-eyed man said, once more with mocking tone and a snicker. “It has made for quite an entertaining series of evenings. Last night….elven sisters… absolutely delicious.”
The manner of which this wicked shell of a man licked his lips made the bard cringe with a cold, sick fear. It had almost seemed he had indeed gone beyond physical pleasure and actually devoured the flesh of the poor women he spoke of. Such disrespect broke the resolve of the bard and he charged forward, steps light upon the barely grown corn stalks and fresh soil. His blade raised and came down with a loud metal clang upon the ruby-eyed man’s sword brought up to an easy deflection. Osclow planted his feet and twisted his body quickly around, bending his knees and bringing his blade around his entire body aimed for the legs of his opponent on its return trip back to his front. Momentum had carried the large sword with great force, further aided by the speed of the bard, enhanced by the touch of arcane spells weaved into his form moments ago. A cleaver assault it might have been, but did not change the fact that he was practically fighting a mirror who moved as he did and knew all his tricks. The ruby-eyed man saw the assault coming and planted his blade fiercely into the earth after the first deflection, allowing the earth to cushion the fierce impact Osclow had attempted to bring upon him. The failure of the assault had finally revealed the fear within the bard’s heart and had sealed his fate of defeat. The boot of the ruby-eyed man came hard upon his exposed face, sending Osclow through an old and worn section of the fence enclosed around the cornfield.
Struggling to his feet, the bard realized he had lost his blade. All focus shifted quickly away from this however and toward the right hook that claimed his face. A grunt of pain and a small splatter of blood escaped the bard as he fell backward and landed hard against the surface of a tall spruce tree. Worn and weary, he begin to slide down the form of the tree, eyes opening once more to what seemed destined to be the last thing Osclow would see in this life. The blade of the ruby-eyed man lunged forward but not to claim the heart of the bard, but instead along his left shoulder, piercing through wood and sawing several inches into flesh and blood of the bard. Osclow let out a howl of pain to the painful bite that easily cut through the chain he habitually wore. To this pain the ruby-eyed man found an almost euphoric delight and no shame in making such quite visible. Revenge was so very sweet and he reveled in every groan of misery this man.. THIS damned bard endured.
“I am surprised Osclow… Uncertainty never frightened you before, but now it slows your steps.” the ruby-eyed man followed his own blade all the way down to the one whose visage he claimed, standing triumphantly over the now broken and confused bard. “If I kill him, will I die as well?” the ruby-eyed man said in a mocking rendition of the questions going through Osclow’s mind. “If I don’t kill him, will he kill others?” a snicker escaped him as the taste of fear of the unknown in the bard’s eyes was almost as sweet as the pain he granted to him a short while ago.
Their eyes met and the bard’s narrowed in revealing anger.
“Usurper… defiler!…”
The ruby-eyed man feigned a hurt look.
“Defiler?… My dear bard, you seem to forget whose choices brought this about in the first place. What truly have I done worse than what you have done to yourself? The mark you bear now is the result of your own actions.”
Wearily, the bard placed his hand over a spot in the center of his chest.
“I shall let you in on a little secret Osclow Wiltenholm…” the ruby-eyed man continued, once more speaking the bard’s full name with a smirk of mockery and a tone of hatred. “I find you as intriguing as I do disgusting… From the very start, all that you have seen was a test …an experiment. Until you stumbled along, we have had nothing but failure. But, your body was different and quite receptive to the corruption you see…”
“Wh..what do you mean?” Osclow asked, trying to maintain what little integrity remained.
“A side project.. Nothing more. I am the only survivor of it and now it holds little interest even to me. I am much more interested in you Osclow.”
“Me?… what in the hells for?”
“Your suffering and development make for an interesting show my dear bard. I am quite excited to see how the next act will turn out.”
With that, the blade was wrenched free from the spruce and the bard’s shoulder, gaining a fierce grunt of pain. The ruby-eyed man took the time to enjoy Osclow’s beaten form once more before departing into the night.