The Stone of Asgoth. (Private. Invite only)

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Postby Emily_ » Wed Nov 24, 2004 5:17 pm

Emily sat in a large tub, enjoying the soaking pleasure the warm water emanate. She had been gone from home for a month. She thought about what Quentin was up too. Probably causing Nerina trouble, something she would have to fix when she got home.

Emily was told she had been taken to the city of Tristram in order to protect her. People were coming after some ancient stone she knew nothing about. Those people, she was told, would do anything for the magic, include kill her. She didn’t know about that, but there was little choice since she was only told when she got to her destination. At first she thought someone had kidnapped her but relief swept through her when they gave her food, clean clothes and a pretty room with lots of dollies.

For the first few days she had played in her room relentlessly. She loved playing with the toys. She couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun. The lack of presence of familiar people left her to play in comfort. Distractions were always kept to a minimum.

Once in a while she would think about home. The small bed that was so comfortable to her and the reassuring kiss of her mother before she fell asleep every night. The adjustment had been difficult in the beginning but she wanted to make her mom proud by being strong.

When taken, she was placed atop a huge bird. She had have fond memories of the big bird. The feel of the wind ran through her body. The feeling of being high above the land was amazing. She asked frequently to ride the big bird but her request was always delayed.

She was told she was going home only a week after her arrival. The trip home was delayed when they told her the bad people were closing in on her house and it wasn’t safe. She demanded help be sent to her family and they reassured her it was taken care of.

They came to her that morning and announced there was one small thing she had to do before they took her home. She waited patiently to be told but again they delayed. Suddenly she felt confused, not at all sure she was getting the full facts.
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Postby Quentin » Thu Nov 25, 2004 12:52 pm

Quentin was dragged down the hall until the young man could no longer pull him. Sweat was dripping down the young mans face. His clean green shirt and flaming red coloured pants had sweat stains etched across them revealing the effort already put forth. He finally gave up and walked off in a rage.

Quentin wanted to move but the pain from his wounds would not allow it. He could see freedom just beyond the door but could not bring himself to move. He tried several times to will himself past the pain, to reach the door before it was too late, but he could do nothing but wait whatever fate had already decreed. Torture would most likely be around the corner but perhaps this time they would go too far and kill him. His mind set made him want to cry. The hopelessness of his situation clearly before him. A chance at escape so close yet too far.

The young man returned a few moments later with someone trailing behind him. The thing behind him could have only been John by the tattered clothes draping across his body and scars appearing everywhere. John didn’t look like he wanted anything to do with whatever was happening next.

“Where shall he be taken Master Will?” John asked the young man in front of him before coming to a stop in front of Quentin.

“Where do you think, oaf?” Apparently, Quentin thought, Master Will liked to call everyone an oaf. “To Lucena in her chambers. The council is residing over this useless fools fate. He will wish he had talked when they are done with him.”

John nodded and snatched up the chain in Master Will’s place. He began to drag Quentin along the floor but paused abruptly. Thinking his task would be easier accomplished if he carried Quentin, John suddenly handed the chain to Master Will and lifted Quentin onto his shoulder.

Quentin cried out from the pain of being moved suddenly from the floor. The wounds across his chest, back and legs were agonizing. There was little Quentin could do to stop from sobbing atop John’s shoulder.

The pain from the movement proceeded to make things even worse. Quentin cried out frantically again and again as the walk continued. He tried to muster up enough strength to strike John until he was let down but had nothing left to give. He wanted nothing more than to taste deaths sweet embrace. Nothing could possibly be more satisfying then that.

They walked for a distance. Opening and closing doors as they went on, making sure to firmly set the locks back in place. For a moment Quentin thought of Nerina and if maybe this time he really was going off to see her. His hope shattered when the words of Master Will ordering John to take him into Lucena’s chamber came forth.

Every time Quentin cried out in pain Master Will would look up in pleasure. A smile would stretch across his face appearing almost ear to ear. The evil young man must have taken some sick pleasure in someone else’s pain. Quentin knew he would never be free again. He had already given up hope of escape. With the look of Master Will just then, Quentin swore an oath to himself that Master Will, John, Lucena and anyone else involved would pay. He would do it for himself, Emily and mostly for Nerina.

They finally reached a broad sized circular room when Quentin was dropped onto the ground, a sharp cry coming from his lips. The room was poorly decorated with tapestries of people Quentin did not recognize. Lamps were strung every few feet. Quentin struggled to see properly with the sudden onslaught of light. Before him sat three people behind a long wooden desk. Quentin recognized Lucena as one of them. She sat to the far left of the three. The other two did not look familiar. Quentin assumed he had never seen them but his view was limited with his face on the ground and his body rolled up like a withered ball.

“Let me introduce myself.” The man in the middle said, apparently being the one in charge. “My name is Master Chieftain Kultuous. I believe you have met Master Cleric Lucena, to your left. This is Master Cleric Gratis to your right. We all know you are Quentin Leigh. The man who would have inherited the Stone of Asgoth.

You don’t need to speak, just listen. A simple nod here and there will suffice as answers to any questions I may have. It has come to my attention you refuse to acknowledge the location of this precious artifact. You claim you don’t even know what it is. As much as believing you would make things easier, I am afraid it’s not possible.

We have traced the artifact from a long line of descendants who knew where it was hidden. We traced it to you. Your father, Michael Leigh, would have no doubt given you the location before he died.”

Quentin looked up in horror, anger surfacing anew. Anger Quentin had not felt in a long time.

Master Chieftain Kultuous was almost taken aback by Quentin’s sudden rage as if he should already know of his father’s death. “So you didn’t know. Well then, now you do. Your father died, along with your mother, trying to endure the pain of torture you so willingly endured. It wasn’t done here of course. It was done in Tristram by people slightly less talented but nevertheless dedicated to what they do. Your mother and father said nothing before they died a quite unexpected death. You should be happy Lucena handled you. She is very good at keeping people alive.”

Tears came to Quentin’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was true but the thought drove him mad with anger. Revenge suddenly took over the comfort of death only moments ago would have been welcome. He knew instantly revenge would be the fuel to drive him onward. Everyone would pay with their life. Nobody would be spared. None of these people would escape his rathe. In this life or the next he would have his revenge. They will pay with the never-ending touch of death.

“Which brings us to our ultimatum if you will.” Master Cleric Gratis said with a half-worried look across his face from what he saw in Quentin’s eyes. “Instead of torturing you for the remainder of your pitiful life, we have decided to let you simply get the stone for us. Let me make things a little more clear for you.

On one side you have a chance to retrieve the stone for us then have your freedom to live out the remainder of your life. On the other side you will be tortured until you die. We will not again ask you the location. We will simply leave you to your demise. You will not have a moments rest as we will have three people in charge of your torture, taking turns even throughout the night until you are no longer able to continue.”

“The choice before you is clear.” Lucena said. “Retrieve the stone and you will feel no more pain.”

Master Cleric Gratis spoke up. “Of course, I can’t simply allow you to go off on your own with your word that you will do whatever it takes. So, I will be sending Master Will with you.”

Lucena looked over. “And John here will also accompany you. Master Will has a tendency to get out of hand with his magic and will need someone around to make sure you will make it alive.”

“You may even take Nerina with you.” Master Cleric Gratis said. “She is of no use to us. Perhaps she will be able to help you after all. Assuming you don’t wish to kill her.” A smirk came across the face of Gratis.

“Keep in mind,” Lucena continued, “Master Will has a great understanding of magic. He will do what is necessary to make sure the stone is retrieved. That includes killing any one of you.”

Gratis nodded.

“That is why you are going with them Lucena.” Master Chieftain Kultuous said with a neutral look on his face.

Lucena’s eyes went wide as she turned to face Kultuous. “What are you talking about? I can’t go with them. I have important matters to handle here.”

“You can,” the deep voice of Kultuous said to leave no room for argument, “and you will.”
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Postby Nerina » Mon Nov 29, 2004 2:06 pm

She'd lost all track of time again. Now, she framed things into the context of her captivity- Before Quentin Attacked and After Quentin Attacked. Before- she'd had nothing but a vague hope that her friend was alright. After- she felt cold inside from knowing he hated her.

Of course it began to get very cold physically as well, during the night. Because of this she was brought the ratty woolen blanket. And so it was After, that the blanket gave her fleas. Irritably, she scratched at the red splotches on her arm and wished that she could reach further down her back. She would have stopped using the blanket, but it really was very cold at night.

Finally, giving up at reaching itchy spots that were unreachable, she began pacing the tiny cell. She had begun pacing Before, to relieve boredom and her muscles cramping from inactivity, but she did it more often After, in an attempt to forget her loss. She'd begin in one corner and count her steps to the other corner, then to another. Using this method, she had deduced that her cell was 9 x 9 or her own feet in length. Of course if Quentin had measured it, it would have ended up a smaller number, but Quentin wasn't here to measure it- so she only had her own feet to go by. Thinking of Quentin hurt.

In a way she was grateful. They hadn't attempted to bring Quentin to see her, after he had attacked. The only way she knew he still lived was that every so often, John would make mention of him. As much as it pained her to hear of him, knowing that he hated her enough to kill her, she waited for John's casual reports as if her life depended on them. Just because Quentin hated her, did not mean she hated him.

She was pacing again, the morning John came into the tiny cell carrying a basin of steamy water. He'd placed it on the ground wordlessly and left, only to return a few moments later with a stack of clothing which he lay on the bed. She looked at the basin and the stack curiously, then at John's back as he left without saying anything. Shrugging, she'd gone to the bed and picked up the clothing. A clean dress, stockings, shoes- and a clean shift. Biting her lip, she wondered what had induced such a gift. She didn't wait long to find out. Lucena entered into the cell soon after John's departure and looked at her dismissivly and with a hint of irritation.

We are leaving on a trip. Wash up and change. Don't dally, or I will send John in to finish the job.

Nerina could only stare at the woman's retreating back. Then, shaking herself free from immobility, she quickly disrobed and began to wash rapidly. By the time John opened the cell door again, to retrieve her, she was sitting on the bed, putting the shoes on. It was the first time since the abduction, she felt even close to normal. She couldn't help but smile up at John as he indicated it was time to leave the cramped quarters.

She could see Lucena speaking with some younger man she had not met yet, but they did not hold her interest. Her eyes roamed over the group of people gathering to go, searching. When she finally saw him, her stomach lurched. Quentin. He seemed well enough. She wished she felt as good as he looked, but the mixture of fear and longing that seeing him caused made her want to throw up. She quickly turned away so he wouldn't notice her stare.
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Postby Quentin » Mon Nov 29, 2004 9:47 pm

The moment Quentin agreed to the terms he was whisked off to his cell. He could hear the voice of Master Chieftain Kultuous and Lucena behind him as he walked between John and Master Will. Lucena was contesting her part in the journey. She felt there was no reason to go. Kultuous thought otherwise. In the end Kultuous had his way. Since he was in charge of the small council -so they called it - she had no choice but to obey. That didn’t stop her from arguing her point until the bitter end. Nor did it stop her argument at having to heal Quentin before he left. She felt him far too dangerous to be cured of his wounds but in the end her words were ignored for what they felt was the greater good.

Quentin thought he was being brought back to his cell but instead they had taken a right when they should have taken a left. They ascended a set of stairs and pushed open a door leading to an extraordinary hallway.

Light from the ceiling windows shot down the hallway offering great illumination. The size and sharp angle of the glass left almost a complete lack of shadows. The hallways were freshly decorated with streams of silk lining ranging from pink and purple to green and orange. Two metal knights stood guard facing each other on opposite sides of the hallway. The effect was mirrored down the hallway with more than a few dozen knights making up the entire way. Quentin felt very out of place in his tattered close and week old stink.

Master Will shoved Quentin forward, forcing him to walk down the hallway. They passed doorways along the way. All of them secured with no view of the insides. John followed behind silently.

Although captive for a long time, Quentin felt captivated and impressed by the design of the building. He had never before seen something so remarkable. Even Nerina’s house could not compare.

Master Will suddenly jabbed Quentin in the side with a walking stick he had procured from the entrance. Quentin wheeled around, letting out a small gasp as he faced the large door. He turned in anger wanting to strike out and finish the troublesome boy quickly but had decided against it. John would have done something about it. The boy will have his time, Quentin thought, slowly and painfully, he will have his time.

John stepped ahead and shoved open the door. Master Will gave Quentin a sharp stab in the back sending him into the room. The pain almost dropped Quentin to the ground but he fought with everything he had to remain standing.

“Wash up, get dressed. Don’t waste any time or I will make you regret it the entirety of our journey.” Master Will said before he slammed the door shut. A soft click of a key was heard on the other side.

The room looked far more extravagant then the hallway. It had the same ceiling window that allowed the light too poor into the room. He was still having trouble getting used to all the light but knew he would have it under control before they returned. Silk lining was entwined in multiple colours and layered across the room. The bed appeared larger then anything Quentin had ever seen. Lining was attached all around the top and allowed to drape downwards offering slight concealment to anyone lying in bed. The dresser looked to be made entirely of pearl somehow changed to a soft brownish colour. A large desk made of the same material was placed to the side. A large balcony with windows was off to the far side of the room, allowing someone to enjoy the view of the land. When Quentin approached it, some type of invisible wall stopped him. Not at all surprising, he thought, considering they had magic and would not want him running off before they had their treasure.

Quentin walked into a small room to the side which housed a large counter with several basins full of different temperatures of water, a place to relieve yourself and a tub filled with hot water, large enough told hold at least five people. Quentin could hardly believe how his fortune had changed. Only an hour earlier he felt ready to accept death, now he wanted to embrace life. When he took his revenge he decided he would build himself a house that looked just like the palace he found himself in.

He hurriedly stripped off his clothes and placed them to the side. He noticed a clean set of clothes on a little bench to the side of the tub. He figured they were meant for him since whoever set up the room went through enough trouble not to leave clothes behind.

Quentin stepped into the tub one leg at a time, doing his best to adjust to the temperature. A few moments passed and he sat down. He soaked himself for a time, allowing his stiff body to adjust to the wonderful feeling of the water. He closed his eyes thinking of Nerina and Emily. He would find Nerina, he told himself and he would set her free. He would find Emily and make whoever took her pay dearly. If she was harmed, their death will be as slow as he could possibly make it.

When he was through cleaning himself he stepped out of the tub, dried himself off and got into the clothes they provided. Everything fit just right. The travel shoes were not broken in like he would have preferred but they would do. The dark brown pants had been sewn with great precision and attention to detail. Whoever made these clothes cared about the way they looked and how well they were put together. He buttoned the off-white shirt up the middle and tucked it slightly into his pants, allowing some to overhang enough to cover the black coloured belt securing his waist.

Quentin suddenly felt the need for a weapon but knew it was foolish to hope for one. It would probably have stiff consequences to ask for one. He walked back into the main room deciding to take a nap while he had time. He plopped himself on top of the covers, not bothering to ruin the perfect corners and assembly someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make. While he rested, he decided the story of Nerina was most likely a tale only to run him down. He had no memory of the event. Surely if it had happened he would have remembered something of her.

He came awake to the harsh shoves of John overtop him. John had also been given time to clean up and get new clothes. He had dark green pants and a stylish black shirt. His hair was combed back, his face cleanly shaven. If it wasn’t for the scar still running below John’s eye down to his jaw, Quentin might not have recognised him at all.

Quentin stood and followed John as he walked out of the room. He took note of Master Will’s lack of attendance. He knew it was too much to hope that Master Will would not be joining them, but he enjoyed the time he had without the troublesome boy. Boy, he thought to himself, Master Will was probably much older than he was.

They walked down the hallway and descended down the stairs into the rock-covered dungeon looking area. Small torches sat in grooves carved into the wall, giving a soft flicker to the hallways and iron doors before them. John did not lead Quentin back to his cell. Quentin was almost sure he would. Rather, he led Quentin across a separate hallway and down a few narrow pathways until they reached a door. Lucena stood statuesque. Master Will waited patiently to her side.

John placed his hand across Quentin’s chest signalling him to wait. John went into the room for a few moments and returned. Trailing behind him was Nerina. Quentin stood in shock. Although they had told him she was coming, he didn’t believe it until this very moment. Words would not allow themselves to surface from his lips. Tears sprang to his eyes but he fought them off best he could, trying not to show signs of weakness to the others.
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Postby Nerina » Tue Nov 30, 2004 1:26 pm

She wanted desperately to go to Quentin, to wrap her arms around him and be told that everything was alright between them. She wanted desperately to find out it had all been a mistake and that he didn't hate her. She was too afraid to move to him and do anything, so she kept her eyes downcast and turned away from him. As much as she wanted things to be right, she knew she would not be able to stand it if he rebuffed her or, worse, attacked her again.

She had tried to work through her disappointment and pain from the attack by keeping her mind on other things. The problem was, other things included Emily- who she had been steadfastly refused any information on. And other things included her parents- whom she had also been refused information about, but had been given small hints that indicated they no longer lived. She did not want to think of that or even accept it as a possibility, so she avoided any mention of them now. Lucena and John seemed happy enough not to talk about them. But it didn't stop her from thinking about them. She had become quite adept at avoiding acceptance of anything she didn't want to accept. The possibility that Quentin hated her and blamed her had been relegated to things to avoid thinking about. It was more difficult when he stood near her.

She could feel the heat from his body, and smell his scent. Or maybe it was just her imagination and she couldn't really feel or smell anything of the sort. Was it possible that she wanted so badly for things to be alright between them that she was now hallucinating things about her best friend? She sighed softly and silently. It was going to be a long trip.

Her musings were interrupted by the presence of the strange young man, as he moved himself to stand directly in front of her. Placing his hand under her chin, he lifted her gaze upward so that he was staring into her eyes. She glanced at the smile on his face, then back up, but his eyes were no longer looking into hers. They were roaming downward. And his hand hadn't left its position from under her chin, his fingers lingering at a pulse point. The smile seemed a bit odd as well. Swallowing nervously, she would have backed away from him, if fear hadn't rooted her to where she stood. This strange man made her skin crawl.

She didn't know how long she stood, immobile, but suddenly he was no longer in front of her. Instead Lucena was by her side, an irritated scowl on her face. Lucena's eyes watched the young man, and Nerina was positive there was a hint of worry in them. Chills went down her spine, and she watched the man's back, and forced herself to remain calm. She wanted to cry.
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Postby Quentin » Mon Dec 06, 2004 11:31 pm

They all walked down the hall in silence. The soft flicker of the firelight was the only sense of peace contained within the small dungeon. The soft echo of their footsteps did little to alleviate the uneasiness against the screams from the dark cells surrounding the way.

Shortly after retrieving Nerina they had walked down hallways and taken paths Quentin could not keep track of. At first he wasn’t sure if he was being led around in circles to delay time or simply bring his patience to an end, but then the screams had begun leaving Quentin to wish he could somehow bring silence to the room. He became so tormented by the sounds he had wished the screamers dead on many occasions. There was nothing that could be done for the people kept within. He wondered how many people had walked by when he was screaming and wished him dead just to silence the endless echo of pain.

Nerina had not done so much as given Quentin a look. She appeared to be treated fine with few marks on her face and no sign of badly tattered clothes. Of course, he appeared that way as well and the true story still haunted him. He couldn’t quite imagine how he had managed the pain or remained alive through it, but he did.

As the walking continued so did his mind. There was little else to work with. He considered anew the thought of beating Nerina like he had been told. He wondered if his parents were really dead or if they were trying some sort of scare tactic. He thought about Emily and what she might be going through. He even ventured as far as to think about the soft grass in his yard and the cool flowing crisp water of the stream near his house. In the end, thoughts turned to Nerina. It wasn’t that she was the main focus behind everything; it was that every time he looked back at her the horror of what might have been shot to his mind. Luckily for him, Nerina was placed farther in the order of march so turning back and seeing her didn’t happen so often. Had she been in front of him the thoughts could have destroyed him.

So the order of march went on. The endless walk seemingly not coming to an end. Nor did the cries of the countless thousands of people still in screams from waking nightmares to present torture.

John looked back, appearing to make sure everyone was following. Lucena had ordered him to lead. Although Quentin wasn’t certain, he felt John probably had more experience navigating the dungeon then she did. Quentin trailed behind John followed by Lucena who never seemed to stop muttering incoherently to herself. Nerina followed close behind appearing to avoid Master Will, who took up the rear, at all costs. By the looks of things Master Will had taken a liking to her from the moment he set eyes on her. Not at all surprising considering how beautiful she looked even when frightened.

They finally reached a dark recess at the end of a long winded hallway. At the end of the recess looked to be a large door but the lack of lumination made seeing difficult. Quentin wasn’t sure what exactly stood before him until John worked a key into a lock, somehow able to see, lifted a latch, whispered something into the door and pushed it open. Nobody was on the other side. John had most likely disabled some sort of spell that was triggered with his voice or certain words, some such nonsense.

Light shot through the hall, brightly illuminating the entire section of hallway and blinding it’s occupants. Quentin could hear the screams of people from behind at the thought of being released. At that point he wanted nothing more than to get outside and lock the door behind him. He felt bad for the people and what they were going through but he couldn’t stand the screaming any longer. Every second he was forced to endure the screaming felt like days of his life being stripped from him.

Outside the sun shone brightly over the mountainous terrain and across the dirt covered trail. All around, mountains appeared to peak higher then the sky itself. Quentin was almost convinced if he climbed to the top he could shake hands with the dead. Stepping along the trail revealed hard packed dirt and several sets of footprints. Many people had used this entrance. Perhaps it was the entrance he was taken in from so long ago. Little did it matter now that he was on his way out. More importantly would be remembering how to get back so he could rescue Emily if she was being kept inside.

They walked along the trail in the same order as the dungeon. The large trail and smell of fresh air made Quentin all but forget, for a few moments, everything that had haunted him. Walking outside turned out to be quite the blessing. Quentin found himself looking back less and less, able to keep his mind on other things. Nerina never quite withdrew from his thoughts but her haunting decreased by the moment.

“Where are we going?” Quentin said, finally secure with the fresh air he had ingested and sure of the fact that he was not going to be reimprisoned anytime soon.
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Postby Nerina » Tue Dec 07, 2004 3:02 pm

How was it possible to feel more naked now, than she did when she wore less clothing?

Shivering uncomfortably, Nerina wrapped her arms protectively around her chest. She would have much rather been trailing behind Quentin. Despite his attack on her, and her subsequent nervousness around him, she had come to realize that the attack hadn't been made in hatred or blame. Something else had spurred it. The knowledge had made her want to attempt to talk with him again. She had only held back because she wasn't sure that whatever had led to his first attack, wouldn't cause a second. That and Lucena placing herself firmly in between the two of them, discouraged Nerina moving any closer.

But she wished she could move closer. She felt vulnerable. She felt more vulnerable at this point than she had since the whole terrifying event had begun. And it was all because of the man walking behind her.

She could feel his eyes on her, roaming down from her neck to her hips and back up again. Self-consciously she had tried to make sure she didn't give him reason to stare at her in such a familiar manner, but it had only caused her walk to become stilted and ackward. She glanced back once to see the smirk on his face- even as his eyes continued to explore her body. Flushing darkly, she had faced forward again, tripping over a stone and earning a glare from Lucena and a reprimand to watch where she was walking.

Her eyes sought out Quentin, but he seemed determined not to look in her direction. At least he never seemed to be looking her way, when she looked toward him. She supposed she should be grateful. She wasn't entirely certain what he would do, if he knew she was being looked at in such a predatory manner. He could possibly start a fight that would get him killed. Alternately, he could just assume that she had brought it on herself. Was that why he wasn't looking at her? Did he think she had whored herself out so that she wouldn't be hurt?

She was keenly aware of the fact that she hadn't been hurt while others in those dungeons obviously had been, and were being hurt on a constant basis. The screams of agony that she had endured listening to, while they wove their way through the dungeon tunnels had made that fact entirely too clear. She had escaped horrifying things. It looked as if Quentin had been left unharmed too, though, so surely he couldn't think that she would have shamed herself just to avoid pain? Her flush quickly turned ghostly pale at the thought. He couldn't think that she would do something like that, could he?

She stumbled again, but this time instead of Lucena taking notice and chastising her, Master Will- she thought that is what she had heard him addressed as- moved up beside her, taking her arm to steady her. Taking her arm in such a way that his fingers were pressed firmly against the side of her breast.

You really ought to watch where you are walking. If you fall and twist your ankle, I don't doubt that Lucena would leave you behind.

The tone of his voice suggested he wouldn't mind her being left behind. She tried to tell herself she was imagining that his fingers stroked her as he spoke. She was certain he wouldn't mind her being left behind, if he was the one that stayed behind to make sure she didn't run away to talk to anyone. Shuddering, she pulled her arm free and moved a step away from him. She was surprised her voice managed to stay steady when she replied.

Thank you for your concern. I will be more careful.

Swallowing, she refused to look at him. She could hear his mocking chuckle as he moved over and placed his hand on the back of her thigh, leaning in close and whispering so that his hot, fetid breath fanned her face, before pinching her hard enough to cause tears to spring to her eyes.

Be sure that you are. It would be a shame for something bad to happen to such a lovely toy.

Blinking rapidly, she forced herself not to respond. Bored with his taunting, he moved to the back of the line again to continue his visual assault on her. Longingly, she looked toward Quentin, but he still seemed oblivious to what was going on behind him. Swallowing, she decided that it was better that way. He shouldn't know. He had enough to worry about.
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Postby Quentin » Fri Dec 10, 2004 8:53 am

The answer had been along time in coming. Eventually it was Lucena who answered. “A stable to get horses and supplies.”

“Then where will we be going?” Quentin asked. This time he received no response.

The road they followed ran through high and low terrain with no grass or sign of life anywhere nearby. The ground appeared desert like if not for the sand replaced with hard packed dirt. What had killed every living organism within such a broad distance? Quentin asked himself but immediately did not want the answer.

They continued the walk finally heading up a steady slope. Everyone appeared to be well conditioned from the vigorous pace John had suddenly undertaken. Quentin was surprised how easily it had been for him. He truly was completely healed. Restored somehow to the man he had been before his capture. Nerina also appeared to be fine. Perhaps they had healed her the same as they had done for him.

The sun began to fade as the day reached it’s end. The pace got them over the peaked mountain top and down into an area covered in pine and balsam trees. The trees were spaced well apart allowed an easy march through. When they came upon a small abandoned creek, they stopped for water and a rest. John and Lucena were speaking with each other in private as Master Will continued to gawk over his new prey. It made Quentin uneasy to know Master Will was treating Nerina in such a way. He wanted nothing more than to go over and pound the snivelling little weasel into a pile of ruble. The fear of being tortured and locked in a prison kept him at bay. He told himself he would have his revenge when the right time came. He told himself if Nerina wanted a part of that revenge, he would allow it. She had most likely been treated no better than he had. She will want revenge.

John returned having finished his conversation with Lucena, and announced they would be spending the night where they were. They had no spare clothes or supplies to speak of but the dropping of the sun did little to remove the warm temperature from the air. Only Nerina appeared to be in a chill most likely caused from the constant advances of Master Will.

Lucena, for some reason, had not taken well to the advances but had done little in direct confrontation. Quentin supposed she would not want the mice to see the rats argue. It was a relief to have her step in on Nerina’s behalf. He wasn’t completely sure if he would have done something himself by then. For all she had put him through, Quentin was taken back by her sudden personality shifting to that of a person who might care. She would be made to suffer but perhaps he would grant her a slightly faster death because of the care she showed. Perhaps Lucena somehow prevented Master Will from raping Nerina.

John retrieved fallen wood nearby and began to make a small fire. Quentin took the cue and assisted in the gathering of more deadwood. The fire caught quickly rising knee high. The heat was somewhat unwelcome against the already warm night but Nerina appeared to take comfort from it so Quentin said nothing else and continued to pile deadwood to the side in order to keep the fire going as long as someone felt it necessary.
Lucena sat a distance away from everyone. She appeared to be lost in a book she had brought with her. Food would have been smarter Quentin told himself but said nothing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. He wasn’t sure how he kept his strength up without the nourishment but decided not to question it should he suddenly become overwhelmed with hunger.

Master Will was setting up leaves a few feet above the ground. He looked to be making a small shelter for himself. An odd occurrence considering the sky was now clear with stars. The odds of rain anytime soon seemed unlikely. Quentin didn’t bother questioning him.

Quentin hadn’t bothered to question much of anything. He surprised himself. The old Quentin would have questioned endlessly until he clearly understood the why of things. His mind was consumed with the need for revenge. Instead of questioning, he calculated everything they did for a chance to take the upper hand in the situation before him. He knew Lucena had magic because she had used it on him. He knew Master Will had magic because he had heard the others speaking about it. He had no idea if John possessed magic but he assumed he didn’t. John appeared to be a victim of circumstance. He followed orders when they were given. The scares along his back showed what refusing to obey would mean. Quentin hadn’t decided how he was going to deal with the big man but knew that time would be the best judge. Although John didn’t know it, the end of his life would be judged over the actions he now took.

Quentin began to feel warm by the fire. Sweat was fighting for a place amongst his clothes. He risked a look over at Nerina and noticed her shivering against a force from nature reserved only for her. He felt bad that she was forced to come along. Better for her to be along with him then back at the dungeon being tortured. Quentin removed his shirt and began to head over to her. It wasn’t until he came close enough to the fire that he saw the scares all along his chest. The healing had done well to cure the pain that was inside of him but it had not removed the scares he carried from torture. Some of the scares appeared fresh while others were half way healed. Some scares were only a few inches long while some scares ran across his body.

He reached Nerina and took time to let the moment of uneasiness pass. She looked at him almost wide eyed, barely taking her focus off of his chest. The scares clearly took her by surprise but there was no reason for him to think she didn’t carry some of her own. Why would she have been treated any differently? Although upon looking her over she seemed to contain no scares visible from her dress. The shoulder strap revealed her neck. It ran down just above her breasts offering only a small portion of cleavage. Her naked arms were stretched across her stomach trying to keep in some heat from the fire. There were no scares visible. Quentin wrapped his dried up shirt around her and walked away.

A small patch of grass offered a comfortable place to rest. He wished to waste little more time. He told himself he would need his rest as he drifted to sleep.
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Postby Nerina » Mon Dec 20, 2004 11:59 am

She had pulled Quentin's shirt tightly around herself, grateful for the added warmth and modesty it allowed. The gratefulness was tinged with bitter worry and guilt, however, so she couldn't truly enjoy the gift Quentin had given her. What in the name of all that was holy had been done to him? Shivering, she cowered in the shirt, her eyes on the ground and unable to seek her friend out.

She knew exactly what had been done to him. She wasn't a fool, and trying to play a fool's game of deluding herself wouldn't make events in the past change. He had obviously been tortured, just as the poor unfortunate souls she had heard the wailings of from the cells. Tortured as she had not been. It had been easy to believe that he had been treated as well as she had been if she ignored the sounds that she had heard from other prisoners. But seeing the scars on him, with her own eyes, had shattered any hopeful illusions she'd had that he had been treated well. It was no wonder he had attacked her in her cell. He had seen that she was not wounded as he had been and had to have assumed the worst about her. It was the only thing that made sense.

But he had given her his shirt. And if the small glimpse into his eyes that she had allowed herself, wasn't more hopeful delusion, he didn't hate her. He was worried about her, yes, but he didn't hate her. Biting her lip, she stood turning toward where he lay. It was time to put her childish fears behind her and face her friend. What could he do? Attack her again? The possibility that he might, caused her to mis-step slightly, but straightening her back she forced herself to take a few more steps toward him. And stopped.

Master Will was watching her with dangerously narrowed eyes. Standing as still as a deer caught in the sights of the hunter, she warily looked back. She had become used to his predatory glances and the way his eyes never actually met hers, making her feel like he was looking through her clothes and imagining all sorts of vile things. This time it felt as though he were imagining skinning her alive. Her skin prickled in fear. Skinning her alive, or skinning Quentin alive? Uneasily she watched as the slimy little man, turned his gaze on Quentin. The look of complete malice and hatred directed toward her sleeping friend, terrified her.

Finally, after a pointed amount of time, he turned his gaze back to Nerina. He didn't attempt to hide the jealousy or anger. When he stood and slowly walked to her, she couldn't move. He stood in front of her, close as a lover, his breath fanning over her ear and down her neck as he let one of his hands stroke lightly down one arm. His whisper echoed in her head like it had been shouted by an army.

You don't want to disturb him. He is sleeping. If you tire him, he might never wake up- and that would be a terrible calamity.

He took a step back, finally allowing her clean air to breath, but he wasn't finished. Running his hands up both of her arms to her shoulders, his fingers played with the collar of the shirt Quentin had given her. He then slowly loosened the ties, moving more slowly than needed, hands lingering where they shouldn't. She wanted to jerk away from him, but his mood seemed too dangerous- though, not toward her. Swallowing, she felt him pull the shirt off of her.

And I can't have you wearing this. There is no telling what kind of weapon you might hide under such volumes of clothing.

Grinning maliciously he wadded the shirt up and threw it at the fire. Stifling a gasp, she tried to grab it out- what if Quentin needed it later?- but strong arms had locked around her waist and kept her from injuring herself. She fought the grip, convinced Will had finally lost his fear of Lucena and was going to have his way, but then she heard Lucena's voice and Will's acerbic answer and knew that it was John that held her in place. John, who always treated her like a princess, even as he was holding her captive. She didn't have to fear John. Limply, she gave up her struggle and leaned back against the gentle giant.

Her eyes went back toward where Quentin lay. If he had heard any of what had occurred, he made no show of it. He still seemed to sleep peacefully. It was better that way. It was better if he didn't know. She would have to continue avoiding Quentin, and if he knew it was because she feared Master Will's jealousy of him, leading to his being harmed again- he would not allow her to do what she needed to do. Better he think she avoided him for some other reason. She felt helpless and unable to do anything for him, but she could do this. She could keep from drawing the weasel's ire onto him. No matter how much it hurt her.

When John finally released her, she sunk to the ground, drawing her legs up under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs, hiding her face so that they couldn't see her crying. She was cold again. Cold and miserable. But at least she was alive. And Quentin was alive too. She'd do whatever it took to keep it that way.
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Postby Quentin » Tue Jan 11, 2005 10:34 am

Sleep had not come easily that night. Rain had come shortly after he gave us his shirt to Nerina and the perpetual night would not allow his eyes to close. It was near dawn when he closed his eyes, only to open them moments later to the rough shake of John.

"Time to wake." John had said gravely.

Quentin looked up to a cloudy sky which refused to allow the sun to shine through. Wonderful. I will be wet all day now. He couldn't help but hold ill will toward his companion's who were forcing him on this farce of a journey, after an object he knows nothing about. "I am awake." He told John shortly after as he sat up in the soft grass he found himself in.

They walked for a time until finally reaching a lone stable surrounded by a large area of sand. A funnel ran from the second floor to the ground, looking to supply fresh water to the horses. Two large doors stood wide open allowing sun and fresh air to penetrate the stable, should the day be more agreeable.

When they were in view of stablemasters, they were approached with a sullen nod from a man with long brown hair. Dark brown robes twisted down his body, the wind controlling its every direction. Soft blue eyes looked at them wearily. The man turned without a spoken word between the party, walked into the stables and returned with five fresh looking horses.

"Must be nice to have people at your beck and call." Quentin muttered. Although he hadn't intended for anyone else to hear, he was glad they did. They did not respond in any way, nor even give a look they had heard, but Quentin was sure they had.

Nerina walked to one of the horses and pat it down gently, giving it a chance to catch her fragrance. Upon waking, Quentin had not noticed her wearing the shirt he had given but tried to pay little attention to it. They had enough on their mind without worrying about the motives of each other. So he moved to another horse which visually appealed to him and brushed his hand across its face, waiting for it to find comfort before attempting to mount. It sniffed his wet clothes appearing dissatisfied with the smell. I don't blame you, He told the horse, I can barely stand my own stench.

He mounted the horse and waited impatiently for a direction to travel in. He wasn't completely sure who was in charge or what they had planned but he knew it was not him. If it was him, they were in for a great deal of trouble. The best he could do was point in a direction and say, "That way." He laughed to himself with the thought.
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Postby Nerina » Tue Jan 18, 2005 1:34 pm

She hadn't slept all night. Instead she'd sat huddled by the fire, staring into the flames and watching the tiny puffs of steam that rose wherever a rain drop fell. Cold and miserably frightened, she'd wound her arms around herself trying to make sense of it all. She had listened to every conversation she could eavesdrop on- but for the most part, both Lucena and Will had put her into John's care and control. And John seldom spoke. She hadn't learned much beyond basic information. She was tired of feeling helpless and confused. She was tired of doing nothing. But nothing is what she had to do, wasn't it?

It was clear that Quentin had been tortured. It didn't take much imagination to see that if she didn't obey and give their captors no problem, it would be taken out on him. Just as it didn't take any imagination at all to see the lust in Will's eyes and know that if she showed any concern or care for Quentin at all, he would take it out on her friend in jealous spite. But how could she continue to do nothing, when she knew it was only a matter of time before Will's lust outmatched Lucena's ability to control him? She'd no doubt that when Will acted, he'd make sure Quentin witnessed every vile second. Will hated Quentin. She'd seen it in his eyes.

It would have been better for Quentin if she had not been there. Again, she berated herself for foolishly allowing herself to be caught. If she had not been captured, she could have run for the help that was so desperately needed. If she had not been captured, they would not have been able to use her against Quentin. Perhaps it was time to make it so they could not use her against Quentin any longer. Before Will used her in such a way that Quentin would be killed for his response. If she succeeded, surely Quentin wouldn't be hurt any worse than he already had been. They would need him even more so, if they no longer kept her. If she succeeded.

She blinked when John came to her and told her they were moving again. This time they would take horses. She couldn't help a small smile when John told her to pick one, surprised that she was being given a choice. She loved riding. She hid her smile behind her chosen mounts neck, when she noticed Will staring at her again, and busied herself checking the animal over and allowing it to nuzzle her and become at ease before she lifted herself up onto its back.

She waited for Lucena to bark orders, but all the time thoughts of escape flitted through her mind. If she was no longer in their control and they couldn't use her against Quentin, then he could escape. Or she could bring help. Or maybe she'd try and escape and while they were trying to re-capture her, he could escape? She wished she could speak with him about it, to let him know her intentions and hear his opinion on it. She wasn't sure running was the right thing, but she couldn't think of an alternative. She wasn't sure about anything, really, and she knew Quentin would know what to do. He always had. But she couldn't speak with him, because of the jealousy of her captor.

She was effectively, alone, and the decision had to be made on her own.
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Postby Quentin » Wed Jan 19, 2005 10:14 pm

Lucena rode up to Quentin, a stern appearance on her face, trying to hide her annoyance at her predicament. She had decided to take the only stallion which had been offered. Quentin couldn’t be sure but he allowed the thought of her somehow controlling it with magic swell through his mind. She did not look amused nor ready to strike a conversation she was particularly looking forward to.

“You truly do not know the location of the Stone of Asgoth, do you?”

Quentin frowned, taken back by the question. “Somehow through all the torture and my denying it, you just figured that out? I don’t even know what it is.”

“I thought you had a remarkable resistance to pain. Although I don’t think differently now, I also don’t think you were lying.”

“How nice for you.” Quentin mocked, almost hoping she would take offense.

Her look did not change. She shifted into what looked like a more comfortable position on her horse but continued to shift shortly after. She was not used to being seated on a horse. Quentin wanted to laugh at her, hoping to enrage her. “After all of this time has gone by and everything you have done, do you now wish to let us go?”

Lucena’s look did not change, even slightly. “You may not know what it is or where it is, but you are capable of retrieving it. Perhaps the only person who is.” Lucena glanced to Nerina. “Her life means much to you. I trust you will not do anything foolish on our journey.”

“Where is my sister? What did you do to our parents? Answer me now or I will follow you no further.” Quentin knew he was bluffing but hoped to gain further information by doing so.

“You will do as you are told. You will never have the strength to overcome us. The only way you will be set free is when I say it is so. If you want to protect Nerina, you will do as you are told. There are things worse for her than death.”

He didn’t have to ask in order to know what she meant. Quentin had noticed the way Master Will had been looking at Nerina and would do what he wanted if not for Lucena, who was in charge.

He looked to the sky, trying to judge how heated the day would turn out to be. He would not soon be dried off thanks to the rain the previous night and the lack of sun today, but he told himself he would make the best of it.
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Postby Nerina » Wed Jan 26, 2005 11:37 am

She'd waited all morning for her opportunity. Once she'd made the decision that she wasn't going to allow herself to be used as a pawn in their twisted quest, she'd had to force herself to remain calm and to not look guilty of anything. Ironically, her excuse for looking nervous and ill-at-ease had been given to her long before. They'd become used to her hopeless attempts to avoid Master Will and the resulting anxious behavior she now exhibited. If they didn't realize that the anxiety was for a completely different reason, it was to her advantage.

As usual, Lucena had taken the lead. For a while, Will had allowed his horse to lag behind so that he could watch her more clearly, but he'd finally grown tired of making her squirm and had moved forward to speak with Lucena. Only John remained behind, and he had placed himself between Quentin and her. The better to watch both of them, she supposed. John would be the only hinderance to her escape. She could only hope that her skill in riding would outmatch his and that she would get away. Even better would be if Quentin used her escape as a distraction for his own, but she couldn't tell him of it. She could only hope he took the opportunity if it presented itself.

She waited until they were near a wooded area. While guiding a horse in the open fields was safer for the animal, and more preferable under normal circumstances, she couldn't risk running in plain sight with nothing to hide behind. Her experience with Lucena's magics had not been pleasant. She couldn't risk having her flight stopped seconds after it began, due to going unconscious from splitting pain in her head. She had to hope that if Lucena couldn't see her, then she couldn't use her magics on her either.

When she acted, she did so without hesitation. She didn't even look over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. Steering her mount into the trees and goading it forward into a run, she kept low on its back, allowing it to steer itself through the the maze of limbs and roots and only providing guidance for the general direction she wished to go. The horse didn't disappoint her. It deftly avoided any obstacles that could harm her or itself, not slowing in the least. She could feel it. There was a distance growing between her and her captors.

Escape was in her grasp!
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Postby Quentin » Thu Jan 27, 2005 11:24 am

The thoughts cycling through Quentin’s mind when Nerina rode off on her horse was anyone’s guess. He hadn’t moved in response or considered his own escape. He simply remained sitting on his horse stunned by her actions. He had always been the one to act instinctively. Somehow their roles had become misplaced and Nerina was galloping in a direction she couldn’t possibly know about.

There were several things she could have been trying to accomplish by riding off. One was to give him a chance at escape, hoping everyone would abandon him and give him a chance for his own instinctive charge. But he concluded the more likely reason was to find help by stumbling upon someone who would be powerful enough to counter the ability of two magic wielders and a large brute. He admitted to himself he liked the idea of them being attacked. If someone even came close enough to success he might be able to take advantage of it and eliminate one of them. He decided Master Will would be first.

With a sharp look by Lucena, John had been the first to take off after her. Following close behind was Master Will who did not look pleasant. There was little doubt in Quentin’s mind Master Will would request Nerina for his own twisted pleasure when she was caught. Quentin did not have a doubt in his mind that she would be.

Lucena remained close by, giving Quentin an uneasy feeling. It would have been nice to think he could take advantage of the situation and manage something brave, but further thought only led him to believe the foolishness of it. Lucena was trained in the art of magic. It would be foolish to think he could get the upper hand on her even with her focused on the trail the three had taken off on.

“I trust you had nothing to do with the planning of this event.” Lucena did not look at him but she came across as particularly serene, which made him even more uneasy.

“I had no idea. I am not sure she had any idea, until it happened.” Quentin was looking directly at her, hoping she would believe him. If, or more likely when, Lucena was captured, he would need to be on Lucena’s side if he was to bargain for her safety. If Lucena gave Master Will permission to do as he pleased, Quentin would react with every bit of skill he could muster in order to kill them all. He would not allow her to be treated that way. He would die before he gave Master Will the chance to rape her.
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Postby Nerina » Thu Jan 27, 2005 2:54 pm

She gripped the animal beneath her as it took her on a terrifying journey toward the unknown. So far, her plan had worked. The animal was sure footed and needed little guiding from her. She wasn't leaving her pursuers behind, however. In fact, they were gaining on her, despite the fleetness of her steed and the fact that she had caught them unawares. The only explanation was that magic was being used, either to slow her mount or to speed theirs. Briefly, she closed her eyes against the stinging mane that blew back into her face. If they were using magic to slow her down, she had no hope other than perhaps Quentin had used this moment for his own escape. She had to hope something good would come from her attempt.

Her eyes remained closed a second too long. She opened them to the sight of a large tree laying in their path and then her mount was jumping over- and there was nothing beneath them but an eight foot drop into a ravine filled with rock. The poor animal didn't stand a chance; the sickening crunch of broken bone assaulted her ears as she was thrown from the saddle and landed hard, hitting her own head on one of the many rocks. Dizzy, she crawled to her knees and looked with blurry vision toward where her horse lay still. It had broken its neck.

Swallowing hard, she blinked back tears and began to stagger to the opposite side of the ravine, to attempt to climb out and continue running on foot. She could hear them behind her, but if she could just climb out....

I'm going to enjoy, making you pay for that.

Taut fists grabbed her clothing and yanked her backwards, to sprawl on the ground. Slowly her eyes moved from two booted feet, up a long body, until she was staring into the furious eyes of her tormentor, Will. John stood to the side, watching, but doing nothing to keep him from her. When she felt the knife at the back of her neck, she tried to run to John, hoping he might still have some small protection for her. It did her no good.

****

Her clothing had been cut to shreds, but that was a blessing. It would have been worse, had material been able to cling to the bloody stripes that covered her from the back of her neck to her knees. At some point in time, John had thrust a stick between her teeth either to keep her from biting off her tongue, or to mute the screams. She could still taste bark. Now she was sat in front of John, as they rode back towards Lucena.

Will had done everything in his power to make her regret running. Everything but the one thing Lucena had forbidden. John made certain of that. She supposed she should have been grateful that the giant of a man had prevented Will from acting on his lust. At least she would not need to worry about a possible child. If she could have focussed, she might have been thankful.

She was finding it increasingly difficult to stay awake. Between the blood loss and the throbbing of her head from where she'd landed on the rock, all she wanted to do was sleep. Everytime she tried, however, John would shake her awake and tell her she didn't want to sleep just yet. She didn't understand why he would say that, or why his voice would sound worried, but she didn't understand a lot of things about John. She attempted to stay awake for him because his shaking her made the pain worse.

It was hard to tell if they were taking so long to get back to Lucena because she hurt so much, or if it was because she'd gotten further in her escape than she realized. She clenched her fingers, nervously, wondering if even one part of her plan had worked. When they finally broke through the trees and Master Will called out to Lucena, Nerina let her eyes search the road for her friend. When she saw Quentin, she couldn't keep from crying in disappointment.

He hadn't escaped either.
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Postby Quentin » Tue Feb 01, 2005 10:26 pm

Time had passed quickly when Quentin considered what was happening. His conversation with Lucena had been short winded and did not approach any sort of understanding, lest he forgot her words of warning.

“What is taking so long?” Quentin frowned but did not look to Lucena for an answer. He knew how loud he had been after he spoke. Truthfully, he wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. The woman beside him had tortured and tormented him for a time he could only assume. It didn’t matter. One day would have been too much with a woman of her talents. The endless weeks only proved he could not easily be defeated.

He had not forgotten what he went through. He had not forgotten his desire to cease living and join the spirits. He often wondered if he would have gone to the dark one, simply because he wished his death so vigorously. But his death had not come and now he was free; as free as he was going to be for now.

His sense of time shifted to the present when Master Will returned with John and Nerina. From her position across John’s horse, Nerina lifted her head, appearing to survey the area. When her eyes met Quentin’s, he could not help but think she looked crushed. Her eyes closed softly. Blood dripped freshly onto her clothes but Quentin could not tell where it came from. He leaped from his horse and made his way over to her. Lucena, Master Will or John did not try to stop him. He pulled a blanket from within John’s saddle which he had seen John pack up the night before, placed it gently on the ground then pulled Nerina from the horse and placed her on the blanket.

“What happened?” Quentin wanted to yell but only spoke with a firm tone. Anger swelled within him but he held it in check. Images of each of their deaths ran through his mind as he awaited his answer. He wanted nothing more than to drink the blood from their dead bodies but it would have to wait. He looked down to Nerina filled with mixed emotions. He wanted to cry, to hold her tight. But part of him fought, wanting to see Master Will, John and Lucena dead.

“Are you ok?” He asked her before John or Master Will had a chance to speak. Nerina let out a soft gargle but her words were incoherent. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to clean the blood, but as hard as he worked his hand was returned to him soaked.

John suddenly pulled him back without uttering a word. Quentin had not noticed Lucena dismount her horse or even make her way over but he knew it happened when she kneeled over Nerina, using magic to stop the flow of blood. Quentin could not help but think the damage had already been done. He had heard long ago that people lost a piece of themselves when they were struck hard enough in the head. Some lost hints of their past, some lost hints of their identity. In the extreme, some were driven mad and others did not survive the night. Just then Quentin swore to himself that if Nerina became one of the later, they would all pay with their lives this night.
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Postby Nerina » Thu Feb 03, 2005 3:23 pm

The painful jostling of the horse was blessedly over. Things were hazy and she was having a very difficult time focussing, but she could still understand what was happening. In a way.

Quentin had come to her and taken her from the horse. He was asking her something. What had he asked? She tried to speak, to let him know that she hadn't quite heard what he'd said and could he repeat it, but the words weren't forming. She could tell they weren't forming because what she was saying didn't sound intelligible, even to her. Why was she having such a hard time speaking?

And then Quentin wasn't beside her any longer. Lucena had moved in to take his place, doing something with her magic. Nerina would have allowed herself to feel nervous or afraid at what the woman might possibly be doing to her, but she no longer had the will or energy to care. She had failed to escape. She had failed to enable Quentin to escape. She was weak and tired and hopeless. She wanted to sleep and she was done fighting it. Giving up, she closed her eyes and drifted out of consciousness.

***

The warmth of the quilts placed over her was too much. Throwing them off she got to her feet and went to look out the window of her chamber. The sun was directly overhead, it's white orb hanging in the gray sky. It was already mid-day? She never slept in that late! Hmm'ing softly to herself she walked over to the settee where fresh clothing was stretched out invitingly. She smiled at the stark clean of the dress and quickly donned it, twisting and stretching her arms around behind her to button up every last tiny pearled button.

An odd sense of unease dogged her steps as she walked to the door of the room, her feet heavy and dragging. It was almost as if the room sensed her trying to escape its clutches and was doing everything possible to keep her in place. Struggling against the force holding her back, she finally reached the door, opening it ever so slowly... ever so carefully....

And then in a blur of white, she was in the fields in front of her home. The gray stalks of corn swayed in a breeze that she couldn't feel. She stood in the back of a gathering of people, family and friends from home. She could recognize their backs. And at the front she could see Quentin, looking back at her expectantly- although she could not see his face for the white light shining down and blurring his features. She slowly walked forward to meet him, the white silk of her dress rustling silently. She glanced up into the gray sky again. The white orb hadn't moved. How odd.

It was ok though. Soon she would marry Quentin and then he'd make the sky behave in the manner it was supposed to. She wasn't sure why Quentin had to be the one to fix the sky, but she was fairly sure she couldn't do it. Stopping beside him, she looked at the hulking figure in front of them both. The priest? When did John become a priest? Blinking, she glanced down at his hands. Indstead of a holy book, he held a spike and a mallet. What kind of ceremony was this?

Uneasily she glanced to her left where her family stood. Lucena and Will were there with indifferent or cruel faces. Behind them were her and Quentin's family. Their faces were anything but indifferent. They looked sad somehow, resigned- translucent enough to let the white light from the sky shine through them.

"See what you did?" the tiny voice came from her right, although the tiny hand grasping her wrist was on her left.

In confusion she twisted around trying to see Emily's face, but the girl remained hidden from her.

What? What did I do?

But the girl wouldn't answer her. Finally, she looked toward Quentin hoping he could explain what was happening, but he wasn't there. John was reaching toward her, holding her tight as he, Lucena, and Will drug her back toward the room that wanted to keep her prisoner. Struggling was not effective, she had no strength to fight. They had her back in the room, pinning her to the floor.

Lucena took the spike and the mallet from John, who sat on her, holding her immobile and keeping her head still. Will looked down at her with that evil sneer on his face.

"This has to be done," said Lucena to an individual she could not see. Lucena placed the spike to the top of her head and let the mallet fly.

It felt wrong, somehow, that the only color in this desolate place was the red that splattered the white of the dress she wore. Very wrong.
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Postby Quentin » Tue Feb 08, 2005 7:44 pm

“She had better be all right.” Quentin spoke brusquely. “If anything happens to her, I will make sure you pay a heavy price.”

Lucena, John and Will stood speechless, staring at him like they were running his words through their mind just to make sure he had said it.

“You may have magic at your beck and call, but it will not save you.” Quentin sat beside Nerina, who had gone into a comma like state shortly after Lucena had touched her, with his legs crossed. He hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud but he felt better for having done so. He meant every word he said and he knew they would take him seriously. He didn’t care what they did to him; he would make sure they cared for Nerina with everything they had.

Will took a step forward but Lucena put a hand out, stopping him before he had a chance to do anything further.

Quentin braced for the impact of magic but it never came. Lucena must have understood why he said what he did. The idea of Lucena’s compassion ended when she raised her hand and Quentin was suddenly overcome with pain. He didn’t move or fall to the ground. He didn’t weep or call out in pain. He had partly adapted to her torture and went inside himself as the pain tore through his body. The worst of the pain threatened to tear open his stomach and crush every rib in his body but he closed his eyes as hard as he could and focused his energy at fighting the pain like it would have made a difference.

The pain stopped just before he passed out. Lucena walked forward with a vehement look on her face. “I will forgive your folly this time.” She leaned in to whisper. “But if you ever try to undermine my authority again, I will see to it you feel pain the entirety of your existence on this earth. I trust I don’t have to ask you if you understand.”

Quentin opened his eyes and looked to her. Tears ran loosely down his face as a reflex for the pain he felt. Inside she had not broken him; she had set his anger free.

“You heard what I said. Your ability to hurt me will not change that. Your ability will not save you if she dies. I trust I don’t have to ask –you- if you understand.”

Lucena was livid. “Have you lost all sense? You do know that she hit her head and you did not, right?”

Pain ravaged through him before he could reply. It was just as well because the reply he had in mind could have ended his life immediately. He knew how to push her strings. It hadn’t taken long to figure out. He knew what would take her past the limit of mercy and unleash every ounce of her power. He knew it, but he didn’t fear it.

“Give me a few moments with him.” Master Will interrupted. “I will make sure he doesn’t speak with such insolence again.”

“You will make sure he never speaks again.” Lucena said annoyed at Will’s attempts to handle things himself. She released the hold of pain she had over Quentin. Quentin had been certain she felt Will was trying to undermine her. If Quentin played his cards right, he was certain he could force a conflict between them that would result in one less magic user.

“I don’t blame you for interfering, Master Will. A woman can’t handle things like this without loosing her lunch.” Quentin said wryly.
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Postby Nerina » Wed Feb 23, 2005 12:12 pm

Somehow, she was free from them. How she was free and how long she had been free, she couldn't hazard a guess. One minute she was on the floor in a pool of her own blood and the next, she was standing outside the building as if nothing had happened to her, save for the dull constant throbbing in her head. But, she WAS standing outside a building....

It looked so familiar, she was amazed she hadn't realized it's familiarity before. The old barn on her parents land. The old barn that had burned to the ground in the winter of her fifteenth year. She'd spent a lot of time in that barn when she was a child, climbing up into lofts and jumping down into piles of hay.

She'd spent a lot of time there with her grandmother as well. Biting her lip, the memory nibbled at the edge of her mind until it found an opening large enough to enter and then the images floated around and covered her like the fall leaves covered the ground at her feet. The last moment of time she'd spent alone with her grandmother had been near this barn, though not in it or beside it. Her grandmother had died shortly after they had taken their trip- after she'd made Nerina promise never to reveal what they'd done that day.

Without even trying, she found her feet following the same narrow, almost hidden, trail that her grandmother had taken her on, that day. She could clearly see the thick woolen bag that her grandmother held, conceiling something of weight inside. She didn't know what was inside, but it seemed important. Her grandmother had kept looking over her shoulder and all around, as if worried that she were being watched. Nerina hadn't said a word, though she normally was asking questions at a rapid rate. Her grandmother, who normally had a limitless amount of patience with her (unlike everyone else in her young life) had snapped at her to remain quiet. The novelty of her grandmother's impatience had startled her into silence, and she hadn't dared break the quiet after.

Her grandmother had led them into the woods, somewhat north of the barn, and finally into a very small clearing in the trees. She'd then whispered to her grand-daughter in a voice so low, Nerina had needed to lean in close to catch the words.

"Look at this area and memorize it child. One day you may need to recall it."

And she had. She'd taken note of every unusual rock buried in the soil, the location of the tiny stream she could hear in the distance, the type of trees surrounding them. She'd taken note of the mark her grandmother had made in the lower trunk area of the largest tree and the matching mark that had been scratched into the largest boulder. She'd noted the distance between both the tree and boulder, where her grandmother had buried the woolen bag, deeply into the dark soil. She'd carefully noticed all and put it to memory, nodding when her grandmother had asked if she'd done as told.

"Good, girl. Now- remember it all, but do not return here again. Do you understand? You must never come back to this clearing because you may be watched and it is too important that only you know of this place."

She hadn't returned to the clearing. Not even when she and Quentin played their games in the woods and it would have made the perfect hiding spot- she never returned. Until now. During her musings, her feet had somehow glided her to the very clearing. It didn't appear changed in the least, which seemed odd. Of course, compared to all the other oddities she was experiencing, a clearing being unchanged was the least thing to wonder at.

The whole situation she found herself in was odd and unsettling. A cold breeze blew over her skin, chilling her, and in the distance she could hear those who had pursued her. Over the noise of her pursuers, she thought she could hear her grandmother speaking to her even now.

"You must leave now, girl. Before it is too late. Open your eyes and leave here! Nerina, open your eyes!"


*****

The bright light in the sky was painful and she had to blink several times before her vision cleared enough that she could make out even the smallest hint of shape nearby. She was so tired and her head hurt worse now, than it did in whatever place she had been before. She had only been dreaming, hadn't she? But it had been so vivid! Swallowing thickly, she tried to ignore the disorientation and nausea. She pushed down the fear that seemed to constantly plague her and tried to call out to the only source of comfort she had available. Her voice was raspy and it hurt to speak. Her first attempt didn't produce sound, so she tried again, fighting off the pain.

Quentin...
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Postby Quentin » Sun Jul 10, 2005 9:32 am

The comments had cost Quentin dearly for the torture he recieved that night at the hands of Lucena felt colder than it ever had. Lucena had realized he would go within himself and even more distressing was that she could tell when. And when he tried, she would bring in Nerina and send horrible nightmares into his still unconcious friend.

"Tell me again." Lucena yelled. Quentin no longer cared to repeat his final words. He had spoken them in jest, hoping to somehow turn his enemies against one another but they had picked up on it long before his words became useful.

Quentin looked to the tent around him. They had put it up just to smother his cries from the outside world but the tears in the tents lining made it impossible to do so. His screams echoed a mile away. The smell of his own blood consumed his nostrils and he wanted to vomit but found he had nothing in his body to do so with.

They would pay with their lives he knew. The only problem he now had was the wait until the opportuinity presented itself. Again he wondered how much torture he would put them through before allowing them to die.
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Postby Nerina » Mon Jul 11, 2005 7:07 pm

It was so frustrating. They thought she wasn't aware. They thought she was unconscious. The fact remained that she was a prisoner of her own body. A body that did not want to do the simple commands she requested of it- commands as simple as opening her eyes. Oh, she had opened them for a very short time or at least she thought she had, she couldn't be sure now, but they hadn't noticed. The effort of keeping her eyes open and calling out for Quentin- also unnoticed- had tired her so that she had fallen asleep again. And that is when the nightmares began. When the nightmares began, some perverse entity had decided that she would not be able to awake from them. Not completely anyway.

And so she lay where they had left her, listening to all they said when they were within range of her hearing, straining to fully awaken and move when they were not. It had not worked, yet. When the screams began, she wondered if perhaps she'd been dreaming all along- just imagining that she understood what happened around her. It was not a sound meant to come from a human's throat and it terrified her more than the nightmares. Deep inside, she knew the truth though. Quentin. Quentin was suffering. She had to do something to help him. But what could she do? First she had to wake up.

Frustrated, she growled low in her throat, willing her body to obey her.

Still... nothing.
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Postby Quentin » Mon Jul 11, 2005 8:08 pm

Finally Lucena had finished her task, seeming satisfied with the damage she had done to both of them. Quentin sat on a chair inside the tent, fresh blood still spilling from his body, the smell of burnt skin rampaging through the tent.

When Nerina's body had shifted softly, Quentin dared hope she would awake soon. That hope died when the movement died and her soft eyes did not open.

"Nerina." He said to the unconscious body thinking his will alone would allow her to hear his words. "I need to know you are alright. I need you to wake."But even though the soft stiring continued, her eyes did not open.

Quentin spoke to her for a while, telling stories of their home and the good times they had shared. It pained him to relive the stories not only because Nerina may not awaken but also because the stories brought a sense of his mortal self back and he did not want it near when his revenge was at hand. Still, he had no choice but to try and bring his greatest friend from her sleep. He hoped he at least calmed the nightmares Lucena had caused.
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Postby Nerina » Sat Jul 30, 2005 7:38 pm

"I need to know you are alright. I need you to wake."

He sounded so hurt. So alone. She wanted desperately to do as he asked. She was a prisoner of her own body, and unsure why or how she had become to be in such a position. She heard him reciting his stories to her, reminding her of all that they had experienced and done together. At first it soothed her and helped her relax from her worry and fear, if only slightly. Eventually though, she couldn't listen anymore. Frustrated at her situation, she finally allowed her mind to drift away from his voice and gave up her efforts to "awaken"- for the night at least.

*****

"It is her fault you know..."

She spun around, the clean, white gown she wore fanning out around her before floating gracefully down to cover her bare feet. She stood still in the cool, crisp, grass and frowned in confusion at the woman who now stood in front of her.

That we are far from home and prisoners? Yes- I think it must be her fault. I still do not know why she took us...

"No...not her fault that you were taken. That was another you have not met. Her fault that you can not wake...she has enspelled you."

She blinked at that news, although she couldn't say she was surprised. If she was still capable of being surprised, she would have been more surprised that her grandmother stood in front of her, the same as the last day she'd seen her living- telling her things that she had suspected but did not know for true. Instead of being surprised, she nodded slowly, then sighed.

I knew there must be a reason all my efforts were for naught. As long as I am motionless, she has a way to hurt Quentin. It would have been better for him, had I succeeded in my escape- or had I died. What she wants from him, I can not fathom- but she will use every way to harm him possible, if it might get her what she wants.

"Child- you know that what she seeks is not anywhere in Quentin's grasp."

The old woman spoke with a certainty that allowed no argument. Again she sighed and nodded.

I know. But what can I do for him? I do not even know how to fight what she is doing to me!

"Leave that to me and Quentin, child. He is wiser than he knows. He will find the truth- and when he does, he and I will help you awaken. The time is not yet right."


*****

She murmered softly that she would be patient...as if she had a choice. The words weren't able to be understood however, and the soft sounds were over almost as quickly as they had begun.
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