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| Old Acquiantances; Melmoth, PM for Entry | |
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| Topic Started: Thu Jul 29, 2010 11:00 pm (264 Views) | |
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Thu Jul 29, 2010 11:00 pm Post #1 |
 
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The hills; one of the few places on Imythess unfamiliar to Yaksha. Throughout his many years spent on the realm, he had never truly come to this area, always shirking away from the odd misted area for various reasons. He had visited the hills only a few times throughout his stay, and many of the visits were entirely mundane. But today, he was determined not to let anything sway him from investigating the shrouded realm that he had avoided like the plague before tonight. His undead minions were nowhere to be found tonight, and Yaksha felt a sort of dismay at the seemingly shifting ground beneath him. Everywhere Yaksha went, even the few parts of Imythess he could say he knew better than any other, he couldn't shake that feeling of the world shift beneath his feet. Ever since he had left the Abyss, he had felt lost, almost adrift at sea. He frequently ended up simply losing all focus, while his mind retreated into itself; many times, people had been in involved conversations, only to stop when the lich's focus would almost completely wane. Sacrificing his living status hadn't done much but exacerbate the situation. Now, without the distractions of a beating heart, or a need to breathe, his mind was surprisingly clear. Almost too clear, when he didn't have someone whose life and actions could be directed by his faintest whim. He felt at rest when he had a minion of some sort by his side, but for tonight, he had left them to their own devices; Rhigose, free to enjoy himself for a night, had gone on a trip through the mountains. At his own home, Lilith and his minions were simply rearranging things. He could still feel the faint lamp lights that were each and every life he held close to him, but many of them were too far to be of any solace tonight. He glanced up at the sky, his eyes latching onto the moon as he let loose a wistful sigh. He had begun to learn more and more about magic as he had drifted further and further from the savagery that he had once enjoyed. Now, his mind was like an open book, the world itself the ink that filled its pages. But even with his tremendous power, Yaksha's mind had only grown more and more unstable as time went on; he was almost entirely dependent on his guild, his children, to hold him to any standard of normal. He could level nearly any building he saw, and few people on Imythess could've actually been considered his equal. But he still couldn't shake the memories of his life, of the things he'd done, and he still couldn't stand on this constantly shifting land without feeling his sanity drain away every moment. He stiffened when he felt the presence of someone else; without the distractions of life, he had learned how to sense even the faintest traces of life energy as it grew close. He turned on his heel, a white flame springing to life around his form and obscuring any chance to see more than a faint, human-shaped silhouette beneath it. "I didn't think these hills were still a popular place to visit." |
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| Melmoth | Fri Jul 30, 2010 1:55 am Post #2 |
Lord High Anteater
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The dark reaches of the region called the 'Hills of Mist' was a familiar place to Melmoth, though he had never walked its shrouded pathways in person. The mist of the place obscured his sight far better than the darkness ever would, reminding him of a far away childhood when he had not yet learned there were no monsters in the night. It did not matter that he did not know where he was, or where he went. The confusion, uncertainty, and utter aloneness mirrored his life and the unending corridors of his mind. The night did not have monsters, his mother had told him. How wrong she had been. Monsters dwelt in the night, and his mind. There was a monster in the Hills tonight, thirsting for blood and the fear of prey, and Melmoth knew it was himself. Slipping from tree to tree, shadow to shadow, he paused occasionally to listen, hoping beyond hope for a sound of sentience. A word, a breath, the rattle of gear, anything would do. He was free tonight, and the beast within hungered for the lives of others. The beast was a side effect of selling himself to demons, he had supposed once, or perhaps something deeper. Perhaps it was release from restraining himself in his dealings with others, some unintended consequence of having to kill to be what he was, and having to let others live in the hope that one would prove to be his salvation. What salvation it was, though. He had lived more years than he was entitled, seen many wondrous things, killed a staggering assortment of people, and retained something of his former humanity inside his demonic outer shell. A bit of bloodlust now and then in celebration of his paradoxical existence was little enough to pay, and a fair enough way to relax. He leaned forward against a stunted little tree, cheek resting against the trunk as he stared out into the mists. Yes, tonight would be relaxing. Somewhere out there people lived. Sounds carried oddly through the hills, but he heard the movements and soft murmurings of people not yet asleep, and knew he would find them before the sun rose. However, luck was on his side, it seemed. Something, perhaps just a breath of wind through the trees, sounded off to his right. Melmoth would put no stock in that, however. He had heard a sigh. He grinned a feral grin, and for a moment considered switching his ring off, before deciding the best way to approach his prey was as a lost old man. He could always turn it off when he had their guard down. He approached, in a hobbling gait he had learned by watching true old people, unafraid and concerned only with keeping up appearances. He closed in, and then all hell broke loose. Before he could actually see the figure, it burst into what at first appeared to be flames, but on second thought appeared to be only light. Shying back from the light, Melmoth threw up a hand to ward off some of the unexpected glare, and cursed loudly for a moment before demanding the other person "Douse that light!" (ooc - Ha! I can do the wall of text thing too.) |
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Fri Jul 30, 2010 3:37 am Post #3 |
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Yaksha glanced at the figure from behind his curtain of white flames, and was disappointed by what he saw. The man before him was an old, decrepit figure, yet he gave off a signature of positive energy that would've been more befitting of a man half his age. The lich couldn't yet fathom how this was possible, but he did know that there existed plenty of magic to hide one's appearance; he'd done it himself at times, as well. The flames died down slowly, sinking into his flesh as they disappeared, and leaving a rather pale man, standing before the old man with an expression of mingled curiosity and distaste. The lich stepped forward, bowing slightly and giving a faint grunt of acquiescence. "My apologies. I've spent much of my life on guard, and with these hills...it's much too easy for someone wishing ill to sneak up on a man. I've got to protect myself, and those flames are the easiest way I know." He glanced at the elderly man, and couldn't shake the feeling that something was trying to trick him. The life force he felt had to be from someone younger, and the chances of a mere elderly man being on these hills was incredibly low. Still, nothing but suspicions abounded for the lich, as he pointed at the sky. His face slowly found a grin, and he glanced at it himself. "Quite the moon tonight, isn't it? I came out here because this mist shines so beautifully in the moon's glow. I was told it was enchanting to see. But...why would someone like you come here, old man? No one but bandits and miscreants to be found here at night." He paused slightly, before chuckling. "Well, and myself." Edited by Yaksha, Fri Jul 30, 2010 3:37 am.
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| Melmoth | Fri Jul 30, 2010 6:43 am Post #4 |
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Lord High Anteater
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As the glare around the man lessened, Melmoth lowered his arm to an odd sight. The man himself was no surprise, there had to be something under the light. But he had the oddest feeling of having met the person before. Have I seen him before? I've been out of it for a while and the memory is a bit hazy, but there is something familiar about him. Did he run a shop, perhaps? Is he a refugee? Damnation, was he a poncey being. Melmoth was polite by necessity, but there was something about the words and actions of this man that just took it to absurd levels. His very speech rubbed him the wrong way, and Melmoth suspected it would no matter how he spoke. Obviously, I did not think highly of this person. Must've been a lawyer. He looked up to the moon, and nodded at the man's question. It was a fair moon, but he had little interest in it. It was there every night, and he had grown weary of staring at it as he freefell from high in the sky many years ago. A glimpse at it from the ground, mist or no mist, did not compare to seeing it close enough to almost touch it while listening to the air ripple around your falling body. Melmoth shifted his footing, and looked once more at the man. The nagging feeling that he knew him would not fade, and he considered giving in and telling his name. But why do that? Let the gentleman go first. "I am here, young person, because I am a miscreant. A creature of the night, you could say. I roam around, do a little of this, a little of that, it's a living. Nothing special about me. But you... I could swear I know you. Are you a lawyer? A banker, perhaps?" |
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Fri Jul 30, 2010 3:20 pm Post #5 |
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A single eyebrow raised, and he couldn't help but chuckle as he thought about that. There were hundreds, perhaps even thousands that had met him before, and this was the first one to actually call out any sense of familiarity. He shook his head slightly as he began to appraise this figure; he was sure that he, too, had masked himself behind some sort of disguise, but he wasn't going to simply come out and say it. He had learned long ago the need for privacy. Instead, he simply twitched the corner of his mouth into a gentle, soothing smile, and pressed a finger against the tattoo that had been formed on his throat. With a single touch, the magic began to run through his body, filling his words with a faint lacing of persuasive trickery. "A lawyer? I said miscreants come to these hills, not excrement. Are you sure your hearing is still alright, old man?" His face finally broke out into a wide, endearing smile, and it was almost angelic with the help of the magic. "I've dabbled in baking, but I've never really considered making food for anyone but myself and my friends. No, I'm a teacher of sorts. I travel from place to place, finding those curious about the many magics this land has to offer. For a few sundries; a coat to keep myself warm, perhaps a day's supply of meat or water, I help the aspiring reach their potential, and learn some everyday magic to make their days a little easier." His eyes twinkled with a faint inner light, and the words he spewed were almost enough to draw away from the fact that the sclera, rather than being white, were a bright and vibrant purple. "Magic is knowledge. Knowledge is something that never grows old or depreciates. As long as someone out there wants to learn, I'll always have customers." He paused, before tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You know, 'a little of this, a little of that' is horribly vague. You've given much less than I. You seem like a wise, and intelligent, man; surely you understand that one shouldn't get something for nothing. So, perhaps...you could favor me and my rambling tongue, with a name?" |
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| Melmoth | Fri Jul 30, 2010 7:21 pm Post #6 |
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Lord High Anteater
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The man wasn't horribly grating, Melmoth reflected. As long as he refrained from speaking he appeared quite sociable, in an odd sort of way. Melmoth almost forgot he was here to kill the man. And then something unexpected happened. The man touched his throat, and began to speak, but this time, along with the words came a faint pulling sensation just outside his skull. Frowning as the speech went on, Melmoth decided that the man was attempting some sort of magical charm on him, apparently benign since he had not really said anything disagreeable yet. Still, that had to stop. It was like having an itch you could not scratch. He did not appreciate it, and resolved to tell him so if he'd ever let him get a word in edgewise. Then the oddness of what was being said hit Melmoth. The stranger was a magic baker, emphasis on magic, and he was a creepy old man, if looks were to be believed. It was like a setup for a bad joke. An old man and a magic baker meet in the mists one night, The old man is also a demon, momentarily thrown off the hunt by the oddness of the situation. The magic baker talks long and hard, and finally says- But it hardly mattered what he said, did it? The setup was the joke. Melmoth nodded as the man finished speaking, and suppressed an unwanted giggle at the absurdness of it all. Time to be serious. "'A little of this, a little of that' is vague, aye. But it's what I do when I'm not stabing things for fun and profit." Melmoth twitched aside his cloak to pat Fate's hilt before continuing. "So perhaps I have commited information theft... Beg your pardon. I am Melmoth the Wanderer" |
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Fri Jul 30, 2010 7:36 pm Post #7 |
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Yaksha stared at the elderly man before him, before shaking his head slowly. He stepped forward; surprisingly, he didn't step downward, but simply out. Standing on a platform only he could access, the man stared down at Melmoth. His face twitched into an expression of faint bemusement. "So the Wanderer finally wanders back to this land. I suppose I should've expected as much." The flames burned back to life, obscuring any details of the man beneath. This time, however, there seemed to be some strange effect within the flames; his body withered and began to shrink within the light, until all that could be seen was the faint outline of a skeletal figure. As his body descended, and the flames died out, the figure before him had altered drastically; his body was quite literally skin and bones, with all the muscles and tendons dessicated by time and some utterly unpleasant magic. The voice had turned into a faint whisper that still managed to drown out the rest of the noise, as he spread his arms wide. "I'm afraid I must be honest. When I told you I dabbled with baking, that was true. When I told you that I had trained heavily in the art of magic, that was also true." A thin, wrinkled hand moved to his head, and as he ran it over his scalp, his hair began to fall out in large, uneven tufts; within moments, he was entirely bald. "What I didn't tell you was my own name. I am Yaksha, the eternally penitent. I suppose I could call this fate, but I don't think anything so simple would explain our meeting here tonight." His hand pressed against his forehead, moving down the skin quickly, and running down across the nose and lips, before finally stopping just above his throat. The flesh on both sides ignited into white flames and disappeared, leaving only a skeleton standing before Melmoth, eyes alight with dancing blue sparks that seemed to draw the eye towards them; had the wanderer glanced at them, he would've found his body resisting any attempts at movement. "It's been a long time, Melmoth. Won't you dispense with all the disguises, and I'll dispose of this ungodly foppish personality?" |
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| Melmoth | Fri Jul 30, 2010 8:25 pm Post #8 |
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Lord High Anteater
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Well... That was unexpected Melmoth blinked for a moment as the man shed his flesh. While truly unexpected, the transformation from man to Yaksha explained enough that he should have considered the possibility earlier. The feeling of familiarity he had felt was dead on, though he had not picked up on who he had been reminded of. Yaksha, for reasons Melmoth never quite understood, drove him to madness with his speech. It was unintentional, he supposed, but that was only a small comfort. He shrugged at the request to remove his disguise, and considered acting like he was some other Melmoth for a moment. But only for a moment. Yaksha was an unknown, and might take it the wrong way. That could end up badly for him. Resigned, he twisted his ring with a quick flick of the fingers and stood as the magic worked. His illusion flickered for a moment, before settling into a reflective uniform silver color. Starting at the extremities, the illusion drew back along his body, rippling and surging as it raced back into the signet of his ring. Where once stood an old man, now stood a healthy, very red, bald man. Claws and fangs glowed red for a moment, before fading back to a bone white. Melmoth had changed a fair bit since he had seen Yaksha last. His wings and scales had disappeared, and claws had grown in. The face, however, had not changed, if you ignored the teeth. The same old eyes stared out, once again trapped in the face of a monster. Some things had changed for the better, most notably his wings. Flexing his mind, the air behind Melmoth ignited, forming two giant wings of flame hovering just outside his clothes. "I hadn't expected to meet you. Not here, at least, but that's fate for you... It has been some time, Yaksha. How is existence these days?" |
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Fri Jul 30, 2010 8:55 pm Post #9 |
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Yaksha's gaze drifted over Melmoth's form, and he chuckled when he saw the fangs and wings sprouting from his back; it seemed that now the two had both decided to stop holding back it seemed. He rose a bony hand slowly, and watched streaks of black energy run across it, filling the with an almost oppressive o-zone feel. "I've done some studying. There are quite a few dead magics that people simply forgot on these lands. Many hours pouring over the Academy's scrolls...trips to some of the most unlikely places...it wasn't easy, but I've amassed quite the collection in my time." He gestured towards one of Melmoth's wings, and stared at it with wide eyes. "It looks like you've gotten a new demon, as well. I shouldn't be surprised about your return. Honestly, this threw me for a loop. I can't even really remember why I came out here, after seeing you again." He chuckled, and shook his head slightly before glancing back at the moon; it was as high as ever, and the light shining around him made Yaksha feel even greater than he normally would. "You do know, we make quite the spectacle here. A walking skeleton, and a man that sets the air aflame around him. Then again, our disguises weren't much better, were they? Magical baker? I should've slapped myself for that one." He pointed a fair distance away, and chuckled softly. "Why don't you let me buy you a few rounds? Imythess has changed a lot since the guild lost its legs, and you might want a revised version of the story." |
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| Melmoth | Sat Jul 31, 2010 3:37 am Post #10 |
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Lord High Anteater
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Taking a moment to consider it, why had he gone for the full transformation? He supposed it was for recognition, but if so, then the removal of the illusion was enough. Glowing claws and burning wings were unnecessary, something to show off or threaten with. Of the two, he supposed he was threatening Yaksha. Something a snake baring its fangs and hissing to warn of potential predators. Yaksha was a lich, a powerful form of undead that honestly, he could not kill. Destroying his body would be an inconvenience, and he supposed the message was that he was willing to try, if needed. Melmoth frowned, shrugged, and waved away his deadness's comments on his magic, as well as his rambling thoughts. Yaksha was a mage, a powerful one, depending on your definition, but magic was of no concern to him at the moment. He was a fighter to the core, and would only consider the arcane side of things after he had completely mastered the art of cutting people to ribbons. He was already a master with his blade, but he had a plan to boost his lethality far beyond simple skill allowed. Perhaps dealing with Yaksha would expedite the completion of his plans. "Things have crumbled, Yaksha, but perhaps not so far as you think." he said, taking slight offense to the implied comment that the Divshatten had fallen. As long as he lived, the flames would burn on. "Regardless... I would be open to hearing your story, if only for an alternate view, and a status update. Lead on, Lord of the Undead, though I fear the master of whatever establishment you have in mind would not appreciate us entering entering his domain in these forms." |
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Sat Jul 31, 2010 5:49 pm Post #11 |
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Yaksha cocked his head, and the skeleton's tone was almost faintly chiding, as he stepped around one of his flaming wings. "Crumbled? Was that the word I used? No, no, not hardly. The guild still exists, albeit in a somewhat weakened state. I claimed it had lost its legs, because that is exactly what's happened. It is by no means slain, but it has lost some of it's mobility. Some of its organization. You know, Lynthaer has gone missing so many times, they've actually had AD take his spot?" He shook his head slightly, filling the air with a sound almost like dice being rolled, before looking up. "I've no doubt she will do a spectacular job, but the sheer idea that the leader needed replacing shows how much space the guild has left to bridge. While myself... my own guild...we've already set things in motion." He broke out into soft, lilting laughter, before waving his skeletal hands around him. "Change is on the way, Melmoth. Things won't stay as they are for long. They simply can't. Without the gods, this world has become as chaotic as any world could be. If things don't change soon...this world, all of its cities, will tear themselves apart." His hand finally pointed off in the distance, to something neither of them could see. "Any who have died in this world are mine to wear, as any suit would be. I can put on and take off the bodies of the dead just as you put on and take off that disguise of yours." His laughter sounded more like a prolonged hiss this time, as his gaze moved to Melmoth's ring. "I'm sure that ring still has a few charges left. No reason we have to enter the bar screaming death and blood." |
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| Melmoth | Sat Jul 31, 2010 11:53 pm Post #12 |
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Lord High Anteater
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"Crumbled, not collapsed. As long as I live, it does, weakened or no. And yes, I know of AD's rise in stature in the guild. It is better this way, though do not say that where AD can hear you." He looked suspiciously around into the mists, to illustrate the impossibility of knowing for certain that AD was not listening in. As a full fledged Shadowdancer, she was too mobile for her own good, and, if she wished it, virtually undetectable in anything but full light. "Change is coming. I hope it is change in our favor, instead of a sudden rise in paladins and others who agree with their thinking. As much as I like Templars, I'd rather not see them in power. It would make things unnecessarily complicated." It was delicious to see how those who thought themselves good could do evil far better than demons. Fanaticism of the kind paladins were infected with, once derailed from the intent of the code by the words, was quite a thing to see. It hadn't happened many times, to his knowledge, but when a being saw evil in everything and attempted to cleanse it all, he laughed a little. "To the bar then, though I doubt either of us will be having a night of drunken revelry." At this, Melmoth lightly bit his tongue, and spat. The small bit of blood, on contact with the air, immediately burst into flames, leaving a jagged line of fire traced in the night before the miniature fireball burned itself out a foot from the ground. This flaming blood ability he'd recently become aware of, was quite useful, but it had a downside. He could no longer get drunk. Instead, the drink ignited inside him, giving him a pleasant tingly feeling as it fed his inner fires. Grinning, he switched his ring back on and ignored his wings, feeling them collapse into nothing without his will to sustain them. |
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Sun Aug 1, 2010 2:06 am Post #13 |
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Yaksha chuckled appreciatively, and prodded a finger through his own ribcage. "That's quite the handy power, you know...though I really must say, Melmoth. Paladins and zealots have been in power for some time. Spending their time proclaiming that which they don't agree with or understand as evil, turning even the best-meaning men into monsters simply for not following the pack. They proclaim their own beliefs as justice, and dismiss any contrary ideas as heresy, or even unholiness... But enough of that." A flippant wave of his hand, and then a dismissive grunt, before he spoke. "One needn't get drunk to enjoy the barroom atmosphere. I've always been a social person myself, even on the worst of days; where better to meet people than the one place where you needn't take anything but a few coins, and your company?" His bony shoulders shrugged, and he gestured around him. "You've always struck me as one of the more competent of the Divschatten. I suppose that comes from the fact that you were one of the few ones that truly cared for the guild as anything more than a tool for your desires." |
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| Melmoth | Sun Aug 1, 2010 4:32 am Post #14 |
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Lord High Anteater
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The idea that zealots had been in power already was an odd idea. Well, yes, some orders did have recognized power, but it wasn't as if you had a crusader king sitting on whatever amounted to the throne of Cascadia. But as Yaksha had pointed out, you could rail against the zealots all day. Melmoth nodded, agreeing with the comments on bars. They were exceedingly useful places for meetings and the like, as long as nobody took it into their head to draw weapons. And they had drinks, which was a nice bonus. He awkwardly shrugged off the comment about the Divschatten. Yaksha had been a member, and removed for whatever reason, something he couldn't quite forget about. "My loyalty is cheap. All I ask is for loyalty in return, and that it not be spent foolishly. So far, the Divschatten has been wise in using my talents, and tolerating my oddities. No more of this for now, I am slowly being soaked to the bone in this mist. I heard the place you spoke of earlier, but could not for the life of me find it in this accursed hilly rat-warren. By all means, lead on." (ooc - Word count... Dropping... Must get to the bar...) |
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Sun Aug 1, 2010 8:30 pm Post #15 |
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(OOC: With pleasure, my friend.) Yaksha cocked his head and faltered in his pace for a moment, but picked it up quickly. "Do you refer to the guild I spoke of? I suppose I should be flattered that you've heard of us. That is, of course, assuming that you speak of the guild, and not the bar." He waved a hand dismissively, and began to pick up his pace, moving down the hill with jerky yet swift movements that brought to mind a puppet being pulled by strings at a pace much faster than a person's body was used to moving. He paused at a nearby stump, spotting a dead squirrel lying just next to it, and giggling nastily. "You'll like this, Melmoth. Watch." His left hand seemed to grow silvery and translucent, shimmering slightly in the moonlight. His right hand moved forward, opening the squirrel's mouth gently, before his left hand seemed almost to liquify and fill the squirrel's mouth. His entire skeletal frame followed soon after, and as soon as his own body disappeared, the squirrel rose from the ground, pawing at its face curiously. A moment later, it began to etch strange paths into the air, and odd chittering sounds reached Melmoth's mouth. A haze fell over the squirrel, and it quickly began to grow, its body shifting and warping in ways that would've been sickening. Mercifully, the white flames burst to life around it just as the sound of bones cracking and resetting, and flesh being displaced filled the air. When it faded, Yaksha stood before Melmoth, naked but looking exactly as he had before he stripped himself of flesh. "I suggest you go in yourself first. I need to obtain some clothes before I make my presence known in a state like this." He chuckled, moving down the path with a lithe grace and waiting for the first person he passed to give their clothing; whether he had to take it, or they gave it up freely wasn't a concern for now. |
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6:49 PM Feb 11
