Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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leviticus
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Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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The land was like iron...

Once upon a time this plain had been lots of green and yellow, with sweet clover taking hold of the slopes of the hills, and with water… pouring like a divine, dividing light between the jumble of moss-covered rocks. The sun had been at home on these plains, a place where unlimited clusters of trees had risen up erect, and where animals had been grazing from here up to far into the distance.

And now, all there was left was a decayed carpet, barely earth and certainly no grass. The plain’s rocky floor was layered by a thickening mist, and at the top of the next ridge an old and dilapidated tower upthrusted against the gray sky. Its overall appearance was if in the birth of time a part of the world’s core had broken through the crust, heralding the start of a new, yet darker age.

Dead vegetation collapsed beneath our horses’ hooves as we resumed our journey. We best hurry as night was upon us. And this was a dangerous spot to come scrambling around in darkness. It took us an hour to make it through a patch of naked trees, nature’s soul having abandoned these woods probably long ago. But here we were nevertheless, to track down the source of this disaster, and if possible, to undo it.

Between the branches the wind whispered perpetually with a voice that seemed just as slight and smooth as a devil’s, yet it drowned out all other sounds like as if it was loud, and insistent. It bothered me honestly, and though I could perceive nothing more but the vague outlines and shapes of rocks, I did have the feeling we were watched upon.


Our scouting party consisted of seven riders, including myself. And though we were all armed to the teeth, somehow it felt we weren’t equipped enough. Our leader made us stop a moment in these spooky surroundings when a sleek black swirl of mist slid forward from between rocks like a slithering snake. We weren’t exactly easily frightened, but we all failed to give our horses a reason to thrust our call.

As the black mist wickedly started surrounding us, our animals bucked and snorted in discomfort, and mine had begun to express its unwillingness to cooperate in more desperate ways. It reared out of nervousness at the unusual sounds and sights, but a wise shaman once said most animals have something like a sixth sense for the unnatural.


I asked my horse to move forward and offered it a give with the tips of my boots, but instead the animal felt as if it had no way to go. Then, I jerked the reins only to be rewarded with an opposite effect. My mare pranced, and if it hadn’t been for my talent in the saddle, it likely would have thrown me off its back. All our animals now napped and kicked at enemies they only seemed to see, mine even more stubborn responding to my commands.

I was too busy dealing with my mount to notice the dark riders that came out of the mist towards us. But the gurgling sound escaping from my neighbour’s weathered lips right before he tumbled from his saddle, forced me to shift my attention. A few more deadly crossbow bolts flew through the air, one struck my arm with a whet fleshly whack right before I managed to raise my shield. Now, the average humanoid would have cried out in pain, but our tribe only knew one type of cries. War cries. Our leader raised his blade and with a yell ordered us to charge, ignoring the mist that made our animals so nervous. I wished I could have followed his lead, but my mount simply refused.

I could only watch how my fellow tribesmen stopped in mid charge, as if their and their horses’ bodies had run into a stone wall. It would have been comical under different circumstances, but with bright arterial blood spurting from their chests as their bodies were pelted with more bolts, this situation wasn’t exactly funny. Next thing I knew, I was on my own…


Image
Last edited by leviticus on Mon Dec 17, 2018 6:24 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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I looked at them, and I sensed they -whatever beings they were- looked at me. We were also taught to consider darkness not as some superstitious state of the day. But that I would ever see it as my closest friend, was something I would never have imagined. When at some point all your exits were blocked, what do you do? Fight of course, and on your own terms if possible.

This was me. No paralizing fear, no cramped muscles, no body moisture being released. Like as if my body instinctively prepared when it senses the worst was to come, and should keep as much of its resources available as possible. Even my heart rate was far down below the level of a rabbit in a snare.

No teeth gnashing in a frenzy of wanting to murder either like most of my now dead brothers would have. I believe that fires that burn hot, die too fast. Mind you, once my anger finally came, it was usually unleashed without further thought of consequence, and it would be just as unstoppable as a tsunami. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I… actually was a predator.


With dawn still many, many hours away, I had a lot of precious time at my disposal to figure out a way to prevent a premature death. Good thing I could see a little bit in full darkness. Just before I somehow finally made my horse turn, I locked gazes with one of the riders who presented his crossbow on his left arm, and for a moment I imagined a look of absolute, burning determination on his face. I bet the rest of the bastards were smiling.

To my inner surprise the crossbow snapped, yet with the whip-crack sound of a broken cord, and which echoed impossibly loud. The projectile pierced the man’s eye as it backfired. Backfiring along with his ‘generosity’ of putting me out of my misery with one single shot. More I didn’t require. With my expression unreadable, no invitational smirk nor a display of fear, I urged my horse to choose a path in the opposite direction during their frozen moment. To my even bigger surprise my steed responded and galloped off with a very high speed. It took them a few seconds to react.


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Yes I ran, but I would not bow for them. I intended to do anything in my power to have my actions equal theirs. I only hoped that I looked as deceptively strong as I once had looked to my fellow tribesmen. I had noticed my armor was lighter than those of my pursuers who all wore plate. Speed would be of the essence, and along with darkness it was my potential ally. First thing I did during my flight, was reaching for a net I used to fight dangerous animals like wild cats and alike, and I cast it behind me. The weighted rope that bordered it, made the throw fairly easy. It had been my purpose to make it difficult to my nearest attacker of catching up, and to increase my lead. But it seemed the gods favored me.

My net landed on the ground, just before the legs of his steed. And just like a fish’s gills and fins get caught in the mesh, hooves got entangled within. Heads over heels both rider and animal crashed, the speed sending the man’s head with a nauseating crack against a protruding rock. Unwilling their bodies blocked the path for the rest of the marauding riders. One couldn’t even stop in time and crashed into the barrier. More bones and muscles, joints and organs smashed into a rock-hard surface before disappearing into the bitter darkness of the chasm at my left.

Three down. I barely was able to suppress a certain overenthusiastic urge as this was far from over, though I admit vengeance tasted sweet...


Last edited by leviticus on Mon Dec 17, 2018 6:25 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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As they struggled to get around the obstacles on their path, I shouted and urged my horse further up the slope that would lead me into the mountains. Ominous black clouds rolled before the moon, and I sensed a very strong wind coming up, howling unnaturally between giant monolith-like rock formations that surrounded my path. I had no idea yet where I was heading, and as the sky turned even darker by the minute, I overheard my pursuers catching up on me.

I didn’t waste any time figuring out how that was possible, but figured some magic might be at hand. Something I could have taken into account when considering the earlier encounter with the black mist. Suddenly I pulled the reins hard left and veered off the trail towards huge boulders that dotted the slope. I dared one glance over my shoulder and saw in the distance how men and steeds bent into the wind as it howled all around the hill. A sudden lightning flash, followed by a trembling soundwave lit up their forms, giving my pursuers a metallic appearance. I suppose it was asking for too much luck when I wished for that lightning bolt to have struck them.


I noticed I was riding closer towards a rock wall, and I strained to see in the darkness, looking for a way out, or a suitable place to defend myself. Only thanks to another flash of lightning tearing the black sky apart, the dim outline of what appeared to be a cave opening was revealed. I suppose it was my only chance for making a stand. I didn’t believe I stood a chance against them, especially not when some of them used magic. But I would avenge my brothers and take as many of our enemies with me to whichever world was the next after this one. Tempus was the god my tribe worshipped, yet it wasn’t mine. I’m not sure whether I even believed in the gods or not. Life hasn’t exactly been helpful in that regard either. But that was an entirely different story, one that didn’t exactly matter right now. Probably what they say is true though : life flashes before your eyes when you expect the end to be near. Dammit, it was way too soon for me.

Quickly I dismounted right in front of the cave and hurried inside, grateful for the chance that seemed offered. Lightning struck right behind me, illuminating a few feet into the cave as thunder shook the earth’s floor. The cave further ahead was pitch black, and even my -compared to humans- otherworldly sight had difficulties with penetrating the inky blackness.


Image

I listened for any sounds as animals may reside in here, and if so I’d be caught between two fires. Nothing.Well, except for the sounds of a heavy armored company of men dismounting in front of the cave. Already? Only very briefly I wondered why I was so important to my unwanted pursuers. The sound their boots made when they landed on the rock floor with a muffled thud, made my hair stand in my neck. They were just way too fast, unnaturally fast.


I backed away further in the cave, expecting it not to be too deep. That would’ve been asking for too much of that precious luck, and I might need some of it the moment I had to fight. Was I really that superstitious to luck? Did I really think or believe some mysterious force would come to my aid? And by -my- request? But then all thought ceased to swirl through my mind as a large man stepped out of the tunnel and into the cave. First, I only saw his boots stepping onto the sand and dirt, and I noticed they were heavily stained with blood of former fights. Great, a veteran. I’m not sure if he saw me yet as I sensed his head turning.

Chains produced an unholy rattling chorus as he moved further into the cave chamber, and for a moment I caught myself admiring the beautiful, flawless way of how he moved in such heavy armor. Magic probably imbued the thing. Outside the wind continued to howl and beat the rock wall, but it was his voice that had me fascinated. It was deep, surprisingly warm, and almost comforting in ways.

“You can give up now, lady. You’ve proven your worth and if you surrender, I promise I will let you live.” He then even pitched his voice a bit lower in an effort to make it sound sultry. “Who knows what amazing future awaits you, and at whoms side.”

That, was a mistake however. If he’d think he could flirt with me right after killing my brothers, he was wrong. Either way, his voice has proven its effect, and lured me out of my hiding place. But damn, he was big bastard, his chest like a crusaders’ bastion. He bent his dark head and gazed down at me, before his eyes darted at the weapon in my hand. Not that he seemed nervous. Not at all.

He spread his arms, showing he was unarmed, but also spoke in a most inspiring way.
“Imagine we’d be in the middle of an arena, with an audience right now cheering wildly at us, even though they have no idea yet who you are, other than some fightress we found up in the hills. Imagine standing in the center of the ring, drawing that fine gladius of yours out there.” He motioned at my double edged blade. “Imagine raising it skywards to greet a gathered thousand or more faces, and then to meet your opponent which triggers another wild reaction that arises from the crowd. They are cheering… can you hear them? They are cheering for the other.” His eyes showed how he tuned out of this world a moment and got trapped in some memory. “Imagine… the master giving the wave to start, and you start circling around your enemy, -the crowd’s favorite-, dealing out quick, explorative lashes, testing ones defences. You strike, you miss, he strikes, yet too fast cause he thinks you are weak, and then you strike again, and you push your armored shoulder into his face, making him trip before planting your blade into his bare stomach. Vivid blood spouts and for a moment the world around you slows down. Savor that victory, and our Lord’s praising…”

I have to admit, he had me a moment there. I noticed I had followed him into the world he painted with his words, -instead-... of grabbing my chance and burying my gladius into -his- stomach. My lips twitched as I spaced back in, and shook my head. “And you ask me to surrender now, for that? Where’s the sense in that?”
Last edited by leviticus on Thu Jan 30, 2020 7:41 am, edited 2 times in total.
Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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I didn’t think I’d stand a chance, but I had to try now that he wasn’t armed. I jumped in, but before I could strike at him, my head connected with his armored fist. He was fast. The impact cast me backwards with my arms and legs flailing, and it was as if every part of my body felt like it was being crumbled. I think he expected me to stay down as he didn’t move, just remaining to stand there, blocking my way out. Why didn’t he call in the rest of his friends either? It would be over in no time. Nevertheless, my world was still spinning when I struggled to get back on my feet.

“Nice trick………... Not nice enough.” There was no emotion in his eyes or face or voice anymore.


His appearance might as well have been carved from stone, like a death angel’s statue. He made no further sound, stood there silent crossing his arms, awaiting my next move, his body like as if the soul had been taken from it. In a way this was kinda dreadful, realizing he was playing a game with me before killing me off. I shook my head, and then all of a sudden rushed forward, dodging left and right as if I was avoiding arrows, my hands, feet and blade moving constantly and rapidly from one place to another in an attempt to confuse him.

Yeah, right.

I didn’t came even close with the sharp edge of my blade. The impact of his next blow, delivered just as matter-of-factly as his entire appearance, sent me spinning like a top. An incredible pain exploded like fire in my head. I didn’t even manage to dodge that blow partially. The warmth of my blood was the only thing that was perhaps a bit soothing. I began to recognize the absurdity of the situation, my opponent not even displaying a snicker or contemptuous smile.


Sprawled on the floor, I blinked a few more times and lifted my head off the cold cave’s ground. Surrounded by darkness... a pulsing... aching, throbbing darkness…, that was how I was going to die. I wiped my face, and groaned soft as I brushed over my bleeding, swelling flesh. The pain that followed was as brilliant as a solar flare when I touched my cheek. I think my jaw was broken. Such agony… such pain… I cannot describe it.

I looked up once more at my adversary with what had to be misplaced admiration. This was probably how the perfect warrior looked like, with a body and instincts honed to perfection, combined with a calm state of mind. I imagined him solid as a rock in a world that was so chaotic. His eyes were steady on me. Me, his victim. Yet he made no gesture he was about to finish me off. Not yet probably.

Almost, I was to lift my gladius into sweet surrender, allowing...no, asking him to return me to whatever creator was responsible for my existence, and give me my peace and mental calmness as I couldn’t find another way out of this. -That- overwhelming and vast was his presence. Then, I became aware of my blood rushing through my ears, and of the rise and fall of my chest as I breathed. I had been close to drift off into semi-consciousness while he just stood there and watched me. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t bear the thought for not even having tried one more time to take one more enemy with me. Death was certain. If I managed to kill him, there were a few more waiting outside. Nothing to lose, only to gain.

I reopened my heavy eyelids, and in the quietness of the cave I turned over, and scrambled to my hands and knees. My eyes stinged. Figures, my face had to be wet with blood. My lips felt like they’ve been split in two. Blood mixed with saliva ran in a stream from my mouth to the ground. I was still feeling dizzy and faint. I closed my eyes. Let out another breath. I counted a heartbeat. And then another. Could I let the wild thing out just one last time? With each slow breath my nature spooled out of me, wrapping around my senses. I was stronger than I thought. At least, isn’t that how I always had pretended to be? Softer on the outside than men, stronger at the core?


Finally, I managed to look up in his eyes. A sudden rage burned hard and clung fast, and like as if outside’s lightning propelled me, I hurled myself towards his legs. The gigantic warrior was taken by surprise as I dug into his legs in an attempt to knock him down. It seemed a good plan as I figured that heavy armored people had some trouble standing up again once they were down. And my blade would be quicker than theirs.

But the gods be damned (if they existed). His reflexes were outstanding. He simply took one step back, nullifying my attempt to turn the tide. I blinked as I found myself hanging around his leg, like I was hugging some thick trunk. The last thing I saw when I looked up, was his incoming fist. My lunges grasped in one last pathetic attempt for air. And after that, the droning sound of the thunder outside was as good as a lullaby...



---

Within the keep’s walls everything was rather quiet today. In the main hall an ongoing conversation was taking place between two fully armored men.

“I congratulate you with the efforts to dominate the region. Were there many survivors on the last tribe village you invaded, ser Waters?”

“Just one I believe, my Lord.”

Disbelief rang in the Lord’s voice. “You mean the woman you brought in earlier? She didn’t seem more than spare parts to me. Do you consider to train her then?”

The Blackguard knight gazed up at his Dreadmaster. “Her training... has already started."

Image
Last edited by leviticus on Thu Jan 30, 2020 7:42 am, edited 3 times in total.
Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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I called it a black hole.

And the way how I felt was exactly the way how I would have felt when falling into one. A fall where your arms flail in the fading light as the ground beneath your boots gave-way, and falling so deep that the remaining sunlight is but a dot in the distance. A fall where you believe that the hole you fell in was actually for the remainder of your life. A fall, where you feel yourself so small… so insignificant, that it was petrifying and paralyzing.

Hours, days, tendays… I have no idea how much time had passed. The blackness around here was absolute, the walls darker than raven feathers. Like I was surrounded by nothing, a void perhaps. Temperature was as constant as a wine cellar’s, but I bet they weren’t keeping me here in order to preserve me like some sophisticated beverage. There was another constant element down here. Or rather someone. I turned my head in the direction where the door was at. A key was inserted into what had to be a high-security lock, one that produced three clicks when the key was turned. I think he was supposed to be my jailer. Sort of.

The core of the lock made a sound similar to the dragging of a spike over a metal pipe. A sudden thump told me the bolt was unlocked. Metal started scraping over stone as the heavy door was opened, the smell of fire and weapon oil drifting into my prison. With a door not going open that easily, I wondered why they never applied any of that oil onto its hinges. Unless, this was on purpose, the sound meant to be intimidating to those who reside inside these cells. During the first times that door was opened, it was only meant to shove inside a chunk of bread and a small bowl with water, nothing more. No questions, no comments, nothing. Silence became my new enemy, I simply couldn’t stand it. At first I didn’t notice how it also changed, improved my other senses, but as more cycles -or whatever- passed, the nature of my jailer’s visits changed as well. Like the visit where they came in with two and cut my hair with a simple knife. It only got worse after that.


Every time now I was fully awake, alert, and on my guard whenever I heard his key turn the lock with that stomach curdling snap. I tried to ward away the feelings of dread and helplessness, but I simply failed to draw out any optimism. My best improvisation so far was simply to hope one time his key would break off in the lock, just while their locksmith had broken his neck a day earlier. But I was unlucky, the door opened and my jailer entered as unhindered as a priest going about his rites in ordinary time.

He was not ugly in the glow of his torch. On the outside that is. He was bald, and towering, and he displayed sinewy muscles on his bare limbs. He had a long beard, and the rest of his face bore scars. His eyes, even in this to me blinding light, were dark as oil. Unlike my captor, this one didn’t wear armor. My eyes moved to his hands when my ears picked up the sound of chains. Again, the chain. All my muscles screamed and I gritted my teeth as I scrambled to stand, quicker than last times. Unlike my captor, this one didn’t display a lot of patience.

“Escape,” he simply commanded.

Terror had grown upon me ever since the first time he said this. I looked from him to the open door and back, meanwhile painfully aware of the sound of chain being wrapped around his wrist. He tugged the wrought iron mass tight around it after each round. It smelled like death. And I hated him. I hated the way how his footfall becomes steadily louder when he comes to visit me, I hated the silence in which he waited as he worked with his chain, and I hated the pain he handed out. But I was forced to make a move, and leave any small talk behind. And so I did. I ran for the door…


In this always intense silence, my own scream tore through me like broken glass. I hated how desperate and terrified I sounded when his chain caught my lower legs and floored me completely. I don’t know what sort of crazy experiment this was, but he rolled me over and hit me repeatedly with the metal, my lower arms taking the worst as I attempted to protect my face. Adrenaline surged through my veins. Even though this never lasted long, his beating seemed to know no end, no limit. At least not to me.

“You got captured!” he shouted harshly and reproachfully.

One of the previous times I had screamed for mercy, but he simply told me me being alive was mercy enough. This time I kept silent. He grumbled something and left me behind with my face closed in a quiet grimace, my head filled with uncried tears. Dying didn’t scare me, but nowadays pain did. My blooded arms quivered as I rolled to my side and moved to sit against the walls.

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Eventually, my consciousness slowly ebbed. But not before one final thought shot through my mind.

As long as he knew that my hate would never ebb. It only multiplied.


---
Last edited by leviticus on Thu Jan 30, 2020 7:43 am, edited 2 times in total.
Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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I didn’t understand it. Why he commanded me to escape, only then when I tried... to catch and grab me, and beat me up with his chain, whip and whatsover? It has not been easy to keep my mind together with all that pain. Even as I was sitting here alone in darkness, it was as if my prison guard was still loitering about in my black cell. Like he was still aiming for every bone, with his unbearable and unbeatable strength. I had no idea how I could ever escape from him, and he must have known that too. It was just sadistic. One time I hadn’t reacted at all, and at first he nudged me with his staff, calling me a loser, a no-body. I simply had ignored his words, but then with savage intensity he started to poke at this serious infection I have on my upper arm. All I could think of was pain, how it commanded my entire being. Hells, I even forgot about him. Appearantly I had screamed, but I don’t remember anything of that at all. My brain seemed to listen to one thing and one thing only.

And now, I had started exploring that pain. It was perhaps a weird thing to do, but since I had nothing better to do. I tried to captivate what pain actually was, tried to analyze it. I was left with only a few conclusions. It was something that was deep, and strangely enough, something that was warm. To my tribe warmth and heat has always meant energy, so what if pain was energy? I studied my body even as I could barely see anything in this darkness. Any of my soft skin has had to be purple by now, the surfaces feeling lumpy where they once had been rather smooth. The pain never took me too far from the waking world either. Eventually I tried to… channel it. To a small, primitive place deep inside me until I’d learn how to deal with it. I tried to cage it, lock it up, and considered it as a part of myself, but one I perhaps could shut out. When it showed up next time, I could perhaps say : “I got pain, so what! Go to your room!” It was mental exercise for the crazy and insane, trying shutting out such a powerful sensation. But I wasn’t planning on that entirely either. I was planning… to use it somehow, like said energy.


I have no idea how long I been locked up by now. It could be a couple of tendays, at most. It could be less too. I estimated he visited me once or twice a day, but there was no regularity to it. My eyes never really adapted to the darkness, but my vision was nowadays blotched with imaginary and violent colors that swirled and then merged without a steady pattern or composition. I rocked on regardless as I tried to come up with a way of how to succeed at what my jailor asked of me. I bet he would be surprised if I succeeded. Wish I could see that, wish I could see his face. Eventually the pain seemed to dominate less and less my every thought. Mind you, when I thought about it however, it came back as fast as the sensation of a branding iron on your rear. How could I destroy him? How could I ki….

Wait a moment? Was I really thinking of attacking him? He was so much bigger than me, so much stronger? And he so badly wanted me to give him even more reason to beat me up. There was no time left to think however as I overheard a familiar footfall. He was on his way to my cell, and I still hadn’t had a plan or a way of ending this. Perhaps I should just let him kill me? But that didn’t seemed to be what he was after or aiming at. I doubted he would actually. Now... there you had it. That piece of information may give me an edge. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to kill me. Maybe he lived by rules. That didn’t mean I had to however…


The door opened with a crack, and his face appeared near a torch, to see where I was sitting. Then, he swung open the door entirely, confident, and entered my cell with a rattling chain. I lifted my head from my arms resting across my knees, and gazed up at him from between tresses of black chin-length hair. Oh, I could see it in his eyes he wanted it so badly again. I could almost sense how the chain had to feel between his eager fingers when I saw his thumb tracing the shape of the links. Pain was certain, and I did what I have been doing earlier. I opened a channel to which the incoming pain could flow once he started dealing it and then…

“Escape.” He commanded with his droning voice.

I refused though by shaking my head.

“Escape, and I will not be asking this again.”

Sure you won’t, is what I thought. Once more I refused, but meanwhile I had moved to stand. He didn’t saw anything threatening in that. Nor did he see my focus was on the chain. Or he didn’t care. And then he lashed out, hitting the side of my arm and shoulder. Physical pain and mental anger surged through me like a chaotic ocean. The channel I had opened was too small for the current, and waves of pain crashed all over me. I had to end this quickly, somehow. He frowned at me however when I flinched but didn’t scream. Harshly he lashed out at me again, but this time I was faster and raised up my arm as if to ward off the blow. He widened his eyes when the chain swirled around my limb, locking itself tightly. My hand grabbed some links, and I used the force of his blow against him by jerking the chain out of his hand. Before he had a chance to recover, I started hitting him with it in the face.


Image

I unleashed my pain, had it fuel my arm, the chain becoming something like a wicked tornado. It was twisted, distorted what I did. But I was intoxicated by my emotions, and by the way how he displayed fear. The way how his eyes widened when I handed out the first blows, and how his breath had turned ragged and harsh by the time he was down. I loved it! And I loved the way how was too late protecting his head, one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body. His own fault, he should have worn a helmet.

I didn’t stop jamming with the metal on his face until the life in his body slowly faded, and had merged with the ever-consuming darkness of the floor. I hated that floor so much. Sweat drenched my forehead, my fingers were still curled in a fist around the chain even minutes after I had stopped. My eyes shifted from the dead corpse in front of my feet to the open door. My guts felt funny, churning my stomach in tense cramps. It wasn’t because of the blood and brains that dripped from my chain, nor the smashed head before me. No, fear was torturing my guts because I didn’t believe I was actually free. They would never let me go, that wouldn’t be realistic if I were them. The question remained, why did they catch me and made me go through all of this?


I stepped out of my cell only to freeze, standing eye in eye with the person who captured me, his (handsome) face clear in the flickering torchlight.

“You’ve done well. Now, put that chain down and come with me.”

“Why?” I blurted, staring a bit in disbelief.

“Because we have a new prisoner.”

My gut slowly twisted as I noticed how I obeyed to follow him out through the damp, shadowed corridor, my jaw tight as I dropped the bloodied chain.

I hated myself… cause I feared him.
Last edited by leviticus on Thu Jan 30, 2020 7:44 am, edited 2 times in total.
Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

Unread post by leviticus »



After stepping outside from the underground… -how long has it been?-... I was surrounded by a continuous wall that stretched far away in a circular shape, a wall that rose up tree-high. But what caught my attention more were shouts and screams, and the sound of weapons clattering and clanking into shields and armor under a roiling, lead-grey sky. When I turned to watch, I saw something I have seen before, but never of this magnitude nor approach.

Not far from us, dozens of men were fighting, facing each other not in pairs, but rather in groups. And they were battering and beating against each other. Metal glinted wickedly as some groups surged forward, their swords swishing and hissing as they lashed through the air in attempts to strike at the others. Brazier-red blood sprayed from cuts they caused. Bones were exposed, people were lying on the ground and clawing effortlessly at opponents looming over them. One swung the biggest sword I've ever seen, down on the head of a fallen. Blood splashed like a glob of water up in the air, only to fall back down on the body which jerked back and forth in an uncontrollable manner. Men shouted and roared like they were really at war. It was madness, and I watched it from a trance-like state.

And yet, the longer I watched, the more I noticed the differences with the practice grounds I ever been at. Most of these warriors fought rather disciplined. Many of them were well-armored, and they wore all sorts of weapons, ranging from spears to short blades. They also seemed to fight as cohesive groups, their forward assaults looking impressive and deadly to me. Aside from the blood, steel-grey and intimidating black seemed the dominating colors around here. There was one group that looked different from the others though. They wore no armor nor weapons, some were half naked, others wore several weathered clothes on top of each other. Most of them were filthy and dirty in their rags, a small group of warriors standing across of them looking like royalty themselves compared to the poor lot. And I was ushered towards them…


As I approached, I observed the small crowd. They weren’t really wretched beggars either, most of their bodies a bit too developed for that. Prisoners of sorts, is what shot through my mind. Like me. Did I look as poor and as terrible as them? I noticed their gazes were nervously shifting between the fighting groups and the group of warriors standing idle not far from them. Their looks were of lost hope, and more than a fear of death. It were looks of horror. When I arrived, one imposing warrior clad in solid steel turned his head towards my escort and me. Even as he wore a helmet, I could swear I could see his eyes from behind the narrow slit lit with glory when he locked gazes with me. Like as if this was a moment for which he had yearned.


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“Bringing me a woman now, are we, sir Waters?”

The way of how he asked that cut through my soul. My hands instinctively tightened into fists, the venomous energy within me surprising myself.

“Yes. However. Standard procedure.”

Just on that moment, a high-pitched scream tore through me like a shard of broken glass. I turned around, just in time to see how one man in the other groups had made the error of going out by himself, and was punished… by his own team. He had gotten stabbed from behind. He clawed at the abandoned hilts of a pair of swords driven through his back, and sticking out of his chest. His eyes grew wide as the looked down at his own blood. His scream came again, now more desperate, terrified… and very human. My blood ran cold and ignited some primeval pathway as the rest of the warriors cackled. Like as if they barely registered the yelps and blood choking cries of their comrade-in-arms. What... kind of madness was this??

“Resurrect, sir?” One of the men asked to my escort.

Sir Waters shook his head. “You know the drill. Equal footing means everyone will have a fair shot to show their strengths and shortcomings.” He lifted a shoulder. “Everyone has his limits.” Then he eyed me. “Or hers…”
Last edited by leviticus on Tue Jan 02, 2024 4:34 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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Bastards. They pushed us all into rooms of some immense square-shaped subterranean building featuring solid stone walls. They were rewarded with a cry of surprise as I was pushed down into the darkness, lost my balance and tumbled down cold steps, my bare knees and elbows crashing against a floor I never saw coming. Black and dark again. It was something that just like the pain was becoming a state of mind. What did these people want from me, us? Torture? Then it was a form of torture unlike anything I’ve seen before. A movement in the darkness nearly made me jump out of my skin. Though it was something I rather sensed than saw, I veered away from that direction, and put up my fists, ready to defend myself. I knew I was weak as I hadn’t been eating properly. Yet I didn’t take my eyes of the darkness that surrounded me and strained my ears. If there was something out here, they sure had put me at a major disadvantage.

A masculine male voice sounded from ahead. “You are a prisoner as well? Don’t worry. I won harm you.”

A towering silhouette showed off broad shoulders and strong limbs, making me think of one of those church buildings standing out againt the night sky. The stranger navigated his hand in my direction. “The name’s Jakob…”

The darkness had robbed me once more from daytime colors, and I had to rely solely on this rather fluid black out-line from which I had to guess Jakob’s appearance.

“I’m Jez… fellow prisoner I suppose. What kind of tomb is this?”

“I honestly don’t know… Jez. Just like you I was pushed in here a couple of hours ago.”

“Hmm…” I rubbed my elbows as I looked in the direction of the stairs. Darkness obscured the view of the door and the steps, but a very very thin outline of light came from underneath what had to be the door. I estimated we were about 7 feet below the surface. “I don’t think escaping will be the purpose here.” I turned back over to Jakob. “How they got you?”

“They attacked our village, some tendays ago. There was no warning to it really, and we weren’t prepared for their armored cavalry. Many were killed, but a few of us were spared and taken captive. Not much else to add there really. Ever since I’ve been their prisoner, I waited in a dark cell until they brought me here today. No questions, no conversations, nothing. They are the strangest bunch I ever crossed blades with.”

Jakob sounded sincere, and by the sound of it he knew just as much as I did. I decided to tell him how I ended up here.


“That’s even more strange than my treatment. But if I knew better, I’d say they are sparing you, and likely also me for some special occassion.” He said.

“I really don’t know what to think anymore. Listen Jakob, I barely have had sleep lately. I suppose we could take some rest and find out later what they want, alright?”

“Alright, Jez. And I agree. Better to save energy.”

I nodded and moved to lay down. The stone floor was cold and damp, making it feel like I was resting on snow, or wet peat. What I’d expect eh? A bed? I sensed an emotion welling up from my stomach, and tried to force it down. If it had managed to escape, it probably would have sounded like the strangled sob of a trapped animal.

...

From somewhere close I heard a low gasping sound, only one second before a sudden wet coldness wrapped itself around my body. It caused an involuntarily gasp. Like as if someone had picked me up all of a sudden and tossed me into chilly water. With all my senses awakening now I became aware of the sound of water rushing down stone, rushing inside this prison, trapping me like a rat. Panic had my heart hammering against my ribs, any illusions I may have had of surviving this imprisonment dissipated.

Due a lack of any visual reference points, I went under, and every cell in my body immediately screamed for oxygen. And then I surfaced again as I pushed myself off the floor, gulping at the stale dungeon air, the cold water being an excellent thief of my body heat. I rubbed my eyes and looked around over the churning water. Like as if I was in the middle of a rain-swollen mountain river.

“Jakob??” I called out as I realised I didn’t overhear my fellow prisoner. “Jakob, where are you?”

And then all of a sudden I sensed something jerking at my ankle. Next thing I knew, I was pulled under water again. I fought to keep my head up but it was useless, a tremendous force pulling me to the bottom. When I reached down to feel at my ankle, I learned there sat a ring around my leg, and it was connected to a chain. Another jerk and I sat at the bottom where I struggled and resisted my impending drowning. Down at the floor the chain ran through another ring which was stuck, likely embedded into the stone. I traced the chain while I held my breath as long as I could, and discovered it ran all the way up to the surface.

With both hands I grabbed it and pulled it down, the urgency for air more apparant than ever. To much of my surprise the chain gave way, and as I pushed myself forcefully towards the surface again, my mouth already opening, gasping for air, I sensed another body passing me on my travel towards the surface. Jakob? I thought. All the oxygen I had had moments earlier was now entirely spent. I clawed at the smooth walls, flailed myself towards the surface, smashing my head into something hard. Just as I thought I was going to die, I realised I was inhaling not entirely water, but air mostly. Frots and spray too, like a sweaping ocean.

I opened my eyes, looked around and concluded that this prison was almost filled to the brim with water. Not that I had lots of time to recover as I sensed that chain on my leg jerking me downwards again. My lungs froze. Not again! My arms and legs kicked out desperately when I sensed how I was pulled down. Black water swirled around my eyes, keeping me from the air I needed. No no no!! And then the surface closed over my head.

My entire body started to throb and spasm, my lungs feeling like they had been set on fire. A glow appeared above me while my limbs were moving in a way comparable to one of those funny clockwork creations I once had seen. Only there was no fun, there was only horror. Gradually I sensed how strength left my limbs. I looked up once more at that golden light above me, thinking it might be a portal to the realm after this one. Then, I exhaled the last breath I had, and watched how a fascinating stream of bubbles rose to the surface, right before the blackness that had slowly began seep in at the edge of my vision sent me floating under a dark, starless sky.

Image
Last edited by leviticus on Thu Jan 30, 2020 7:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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((The previous upper story parts have been cleaned up, and some text and songs to create more atmosphere have been added. Down below, a new part.))


The world was black...

That was a color people really underestimated. To me the color was associated with death, hatred and fear, but also with power and prestige. And I was strangely enough comfortable with that. The black surrounding me had this velvet quality, like a night sky. But cloudless and not speckled with stars instead. It was just as absolute and similar as a void. There was no temperature I could detect, nor did my senses pick up any scents. But I did hear voices, in the distance, first a murmuring like ghost sounds that ebbed and flowed like waves on a deserted beach, followed by words which were strange to my ear. It was no language I knew, but it sounded harsh, like iron nails scraping over rock. A scream sounded from the backdrop of terrible voices, followed by brief, maniacal laughter.

Steadily, the voices came closer. Or maybe I was moving towards them, I couldn’t tell. As if out of thin air a white-framed window appeared, and I sensed how I mentally reached out and pushed at its black glossy glass. Behind it was a moon-bleached avenue lined with leaded church-like windows, staring at me like judging parishioners. As I moved forward, from below my feet there was a crackling sound of hollow bones crunching and snapping. The voices had reduced to a soft whimpering, and instead drums sounded in the distance. No, not drums, more something like… children, stomping pencils down on a hardwood table. Even as it grew louder, it still was hard to pin-point which window it was coming from.

The windows fell apart in a sudden arising mist, the clouds taking on more ominous mushroom shapes. I swallowed as I perceived endless rows of tombstones standing erect left and right of me, most of them crumbled with the passing of centuries.


Image

When I tried to read the inscriptions, I learned they all read the same thing. ‘Grave of a weakling and coward’. What the hell was this? Entire generations of chicken hearts? It were so many! The force of disapproval I sensed in me surprised myself. Whimpering rose up from the porous path between the graves, and unearthlike echoed through the fog. They however were dead, their mourning would never be able to reach my core. Then I saw one of them, a soul, or whatever was left of it, its light blue form writhing in the mist in a silent scream.

Suddenly, a shape as massive as an iceberg loomed up out of the fog and darkness, and moved towards us. Its eyes, like blinding orbs bore into me before its gaze shifted to the soul. A large hand picked it up and squeezed so hard until it fell apart in tiny stars of white energy. Perplexed, I saw the shape absorbing the sparkles, and I realized I had just witnessed some sort of devourer of souls at work. Then, it turned its eyes back on me, and when I looked down at myself, to my horror I saw I was just like that soul…

Ohh… no… no way, you won have me.

But the ‘mountain’ didn’t approach, and instead I heard now voices I could actually understand.

“Will she make it?”

“Yes, if she does everything that is on the other side of fear.”

“Good, cause we want her to b…” But then all the voices faded, and it seemed as if there existed nothing else except for the sound of my own breathing...
Last edited by leviticus on Thu Jan 30, 2020 8:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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“Finally, you’re awake.”

My eyes had slowly rolled open, and with the remnants of dark dreams I glazed over at the one sitting next to me. He must have seen the shock registering on my face when I recognized him. It was Jakob, my fellow prisoner. But, I had seen his grave?? At least I thought so as the world I just came from had looked so realistic, obscure as it had been. I also remembered the water, and how its surface had closed above me. And how I had kicked viciously when I felt that intense pain in the back of my head, and the shimmer of light rippling above me right before the last amount of air escaped my lips and my eyesight became dark and deluded. There was no way I could have survived that without some form of assistance.

A small smile played about his lips, his handsome features telling me he does that a lot.

“Are you alright? You been out for two days.” Jakob asked.

If he had been a member of a choir, he’d definitely be the baritone, his voice displaying a richness of tones, giving me an impression of exclusivity and mystique. Why hadn’t I noticed such before? I rubbed my eyes and stared at him, and at how moonlight struck his blonde hair, and how it illuminated his profile just enough to tell me I was looking at a very strong man. We were nothing but strangers, but I could swear I could for some reason love this man more than the breathable air surrounding me. His presence had a strange impact on me.

“Yes… I think so. Eh… You saved me, didn’t you?” Without realizing, I had lowered all my instinctive defences.

His face now set like stone, his lips forming a grim line. “I don’t really remember, just to be honest. But since we are both here in this…” He looked around at what looked like a barrack’s sleeping quarters with a dozen sets of bunk beds lined up in a row.

“Well, for what it’s worth. Thank you. Do you have any idea what happened? Why our prison suddenly was flooded?”

He stared at me as if I had just told him some dumb child story.

“Ah, you don’t remember that part either, do you?”

The man shook his head, and gods be damned... he offered me that … smile of his again. His appearance didn’t match at all with his demeanour. If I wanted a man, I would want him to be… strong willed, dominating me a little even. I would like to be a real challenge for him, and him to be prepared to fight for, with -and- even against me to prove his worth. This guy, with a chest like a ship’s deck, and arms so muscled, at the same time appeared so soft on the inside. He was one large frigging teddy bear!

Image

On the inside I had already started to rage, preparing myself to reject this… flaw of nature. But I couldn’t. Somehow I couldn’t. This guy was just too… ‘convincive’, in other ways than I was used to. What… was I even thinking about? I hardly knew this man, so how could I even consider -or- judge him, and how could I even allow to let this person to get to me, to a place where normal women likely would already have opened up and moved out to…

“Eh… Jakob? What do you actually remember then? About me, before the water, or maybe after?”

“Ah, that we met and talked. Nothing else. And after?” He nodded once. “They told me you nearly had drowned and asked me to stay with you until you were up and ready again.”

“Ready? Ready for what?”

He frowned. “It seems there’s a lot to tell.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I remember a lot either of what you already told the first time we met.”

“Ah... “ I observed how Jakob’s gaze wandered to one of the wooden walls. “They want us to become soldiers in their army or something. They’ve been a while here now you know, kidnapping people from the surroundings and taking them here. Slowly but certainly their numbers seemed to have increased. I knew about them for a while now.”

I stared dumbfounded at him. “And… what makes them think or believe that these prisoners will cooperate, let alone be loyal to them?”

Briefly Jakob looked over at me before his eyes shifted to the side once more, glazed with a glassy layer of what appeared tears. His complexion was ashen. “With pain…”
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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Gravel cracked under boot heels, and perhaps for the first time in my life I was genuinely nervous. Our platoon sergeant was to make his appearance they said, and we’d better pay attention they said. Behind our line was the Room of Power, a large dark wooden barracks erected just outside the fortification that served its purpose as a training hall. That’s what they said at least. I expected mister Sanders to be some sort of powerhouse. And with it I mean a real mean powerhouse. A guy of at least six, seven feet tall, enormous shoulders, chest, and arms as bulky as a whale hunter. A man looking like that type of guy who could reel you in single-handedly.

However, Sanders… was not what I expected. At all.

He entered the clearing together with a long loop of biting winter wind that forced us to lower our heads. Mister Sanders wasn’t gigantic at all, medium at best. And his strange attire didn’t show much of his body shape. It more looked like a costume fancy men in cities used to wear, and on his head he had this black bowler hat. A short grizzled beard, a walrus moustache and round glasses that brought out his cheekbones some, completed the odd appearance.

A fine golden chain attached to the front of his coat ran all the way to his side where it disappeared in one of his pockets. His backbone seemed to have the willpower of a dead snake, a bit saggy and drooping, and if I didn’t knew any better I’d say he was as erect as a plate of gelatin. This... was supposed to be our sergeant? After meeting my captor, I would have expected someone more upright and rigid.

I didn’t know I soon might regret that opinion.


“Platoo-oon, aa-aattention!” The guard who led us here barked the order.

We did as we were told, and obeyed the order and stood at attention like as if we were soldiers. An awkward silence descended between us, prisoners who now appeared recruits of sorts, and their sergeant, or rather the strangest man I have ever seen in my life.

He stood there and observed each man and woman in our line, and then smiled. He wagged his finger at us while he started addressing us with a voice that was rather cracky and not very steady. A bit of a mellow tone too. He almost sounded like an old and caring man. “You know… in my time when we were introduced to our sergeant, our faces were slightly more grim against a rigid wind like this, yah? Every hand was like a black glove, and we weren’t even standing there just as comfortable as the warm uniformed lot of bodies in heavy boots you are. But..” His voice, all creaky, lingered a moment over our curious heads. “I suppose it’s for the greater good, yah? Our ‘recruitment’ is already problematic enough.”

Some laughed, and the guy in front of me laughed even harder.

Sanders’s words however cut like claws through my body and wrapped around my brain. Perhaps over the chosen words, or the reaction they triggered. Or maybe because I saw what Sanders was, and what others didn’t see. Sanders had a face full of contradictions, and not only his face, but his entire demeanour was completely off any scale I’ve come to known.

Sanders briefly laughed along with them as he stepped closer towards the man in front of me, and the laughing ebbed away as soon as Sanders came nose to nose.

It’s no accident at all that it is the reptile known as the snake which symbolizes evil in our myths.

Suddenly Sanders punched the man standing left of the man who had laughed the loudest hard on the nose. His victim went down and made no sound before he hit the earth’s floor.

Why did he struck an innocent man??

Sanders scratched his beard as he looked at the unconscious body, and lifted his hands almost apologetically. But then his expression changed again, and he offered the man in front of me an intense stare. I could swear the guy nearly staggered back on his heels towards me.


“What do you think will be the last thing he’ll remember?” Sanders asked the man as he motioned at the body. “Hmm?”

Then he took two steps back and looked at each of us, his gaze affecting us as if it had been a powerful swing of a sword.

“Good… very good… I see we understand each other.” His voice was like that of a shaky older man’s again. “So, now we are acquainted, it is time for some warming up, yah?”

Nobody complained, no one even produced a sound as he made us run rounds about this ‘reform camp’ of sorts.

I understood now Sanders was dangerous. Far more dangerous even than my captor. Sanders’s strange disguise had made him look like a sheep. But Sanders was no sheep. He wasn’t even a wolf among sheep. He was the type of guy who would hide a wolf among the sheep.

Sanders… was a psychopath.


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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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Hunger…

More and more I started feeling less human and more animal. Just like those I now felt dominated by hunger, and I felt pushed to wear myself out completely for just the smallest amount of food. It had gotten even hard to think properly. All I seemed to know as of late was that my stomach was like a bottomless black hole every moment I was awake, like as if no supply would ever be enough to overcome the pain or even provide a hint of relief. Over the past tenday, the thought of food had grown into a borderline obsession. The only question remaining was… were we prepared to double cross one another if we found some? Or would we share or even work together to obtain it?

At some point, as some part of our training I guess, they had us locked up for more than ten days with nothing more than water and merely two or three chunks of bread for a group of fifteen people. In the end, some of us ate stuff that wasn’t even food, not caring if it would kill or not, just to try and put an end to that gnawing pain. Some of us seemed robbed of their spirit and soul, and anyone of us who had ever been able to love, found such feelings switched off. Three days after they finally had opened the iron barred doors and encouraged us to find food, we encountered a small farm sitting at the bottom of the mountains from which we descended. We were warned though. Should we get caught stealing, the punishment that followed would be severe.

They never mentioned anything about a penalty for escaping, but after that one warning we assumed it be impossible to leave their territory without getting caught.

We lurked at the edge of a field, empty now due to winter, and covered with a thin blanket of undisturbed snow. Imagine how hard it was for us with that crescendo swelling up from our bellies when we noticed this first sign of life in three days. And where there were was a farm, there was food.


“Ham, cheese, cake…” a male crouching next to me muttered as we peered through the bush.

At least five empty hectares were sitting around the building, steel blue water in a narrow mountain river rushing down right next to it.

“I bet they never have to worry where their next scrap of food would come from.” Another guy whispered behind us, his focus on the barn. “But how we get there unnoticed?”

“We could just kill anyone who sees us.” A guy named Thorak suggested. “That way there isn’t anyone to catch us.”

As I sat there a moment watching how the cold wind swirled ice eddies through the frozen pasture, I couldn’t believe my ears. And Thorak wasn’t the only one proposing a violent approach. But this was a farmer and his family he was talking about.

Another man named Jeron agreed. “We need weapons, something to attack, or to defend ourselves at least.”

I turned my head to look at them both in disbelief, but before I got to say anything about all that, something arrested my attention. We… were a very poor lot indeed, some of us barely wearing clothes. Or whatever could pass for such. We were more than just dirty…. and far… far beyond just dishevelled or scruffy or skanky. A few of us also were in very bad shape. Eyes dim, unsteady movements, faces that take on indifferent and empty expressions, and right now nothing more but pale skeletal forms lurking in the faint winter mist. While ahead of us was a promise of water and food.

If hunger would be a person, we were it. We were living hunger, chronic and complete in every aspect.

Things like courage and respect for human life erased by it.

On top of that count the shock of our arrival at our prison months ago, the death and seperation from our loved ones, the awareness of our ruthless situation which seemed more like a fight for survival, it all added up.


I looked around and evaluated the situation. If we didn’t do this there soon would be fights among us, and worse. The truth was that one wants to live no matter the cost. So I asked. “What’s the plan?”

A few frowned at me and one of the younger guys wondered. “Plan? We need a plan?”

I sighed. “Listen, are you hungry or not? If so, consider this may end up with trouble. We are with fifteen. Not all in good shape. So, are we going to expose everyone, or send a small scouting group ahead?”

“Woman. Look. I’m hungry. I’m in no need for a lesson in tactics.” Thorak who was a very tall man behind me grumbled. “Lets just go all down there. We’ll be outnumbering them anyways. Overwhelm and grab what we need.”

“I really don’t think that’s wise…” I started.

“Listen, if you’re afraid, you can stay behind. But don’t expect us to share anything with you.”

I rose from the frosty grass and bit back at him. “Us? So you are in charge of this group now? If so, then you are responsible for whatever goes wrong. And don’t look at me like that. This was your idea.”

One of the two other females approached us. “What would you propose us to do then, Jezebeth?”

I looked at her, and then turned to the group. “I say we split up. Scout ahead, and while one part of the group moves to the northern side, the rest should stay here. The scouts give a signal when they think the coast is clear, and then one group should come down and check out that barn while the others watch the farmhouse.”

“And what if the food is in the house instead?”

“Then, I guess we do whatever we think is necessary.”

I admit I already there sensed this dark edge about me...


Ice traveled on the wind as I moved out with three others to take a position at the northern side of the fields while keeping an eye on the small windows of the farmhouse. Two large crows flew up and moved towards a nearby pine forest as if looking for cover.

Dusk was upon us, but with all the snow it likely would never get dark...
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

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“We have to go back and free them!” Mesno, one of the younger guys blurted. Since I got to know him I was guessing before this life he had been knight material. He was strong and brave, but he was also stubbornly altruistic.

For some reason most people in our party, or whatever was left of it, looked at me for decisions. It apppeared I was in charge. So be it.

“If you didn’t see that was a trap then you’re blind, Mesno. Obviously they are somehow trying us out or something.”

“So our friends are on their own??!” Mesno said in disbelief as we all crouched low in the bush, catching our breaths.

For the past two or three hours we’ve ran interminably over snow and rock, gullies and bushes, and even chosen a path where thorns teared at our skin and clothes. All until the last shouts behind us seemed to diminish and peter out. Nevertheless it had been a desultory escape, and we still weren’t in an excellent defensive position. And we still didn’t found any food supplies either.

“Our companions you mean, and yes they are. I think that is the whole point of whatever act or operation this is.”

“Operation?? By all the gods, Jezebeth! Did you somehow miss how those we left behind were struck down merciless from behind as we made a run for it??”

“No, but clearly you did since you seem eager to go back and run yourself into their blades, and with it compromise our safety. We’re physically weakened due the lack of food, and we have no weapons whatsoever. We leave them and we focus on our own survival.”

Mesno narrowed his eyes at me. “One day you get the shakes... when your blood cools down, Jezebeth.”

“My blood will only cool down when we remain here sitting still. We have to keep moving.”

“To where?” The only other female who was left asked.

“I honestly don’t know, Arida. This isn’t exactly my region. I only know we’ll stay warm if we keep going, and we’ll have a better chance of finding something edible.”

“This bloody darkness and snow won’t help us find any.” A guy in the darkness said. I didn't recall his name.

He was right. “No, but at least it will erase our tracks.” I replied as I gazed up. In a moment the world changed into one of those snow globes I once saw as a part of a trade between my clan and city people.

Within moments the blizzard came as determined as I was to make my escape from our pursuers. More flakes than it would ever make sense to count found their way in our hair and on our shoulders and backs. Disorientation would be a pain as of now, and cold a killer. Wind carried our voices faster than we ever would be able to walk, so our round of consultation was over. We were running out of options as well.

“Fine. I’ll withdraw my previous suggestion. If we stay in this, we’ll die. We need to find shelter. Dig one if necessary.” I said as I raised my hand to shield my eyes.

“Dig?? Dig a hole for eight people?? That’ll take us forever!” Someone squeaked.

“We best get to it then. If you survive this night, by morning you’ll wake up in a fancy wonderland.” I grumbled.

Not a moment too soon we had started digging with our bare hands, or the ferocity of the wind increased. The flakes whirling around us in an angry vortex were so thick that they obscured the little view we had completely. Cold, it was so cold. But somehow I was suffering less from it than the others. I don’t know why, but I do know that is how it always has been.

At first, we just dug deeper holes in the snow, piling it what we removed up in ramparts to windward as a protection against this unfriendly blast of winter weather. As we worked, I recollected the events of the past day, summarizing the facts in my mind.

Two of us went inside the barn. But just as they did, the outer door of the farm on the other side of the spot burst open and several black uniformed soldiers emerged from the interior, the tips of their blades flipping up. We didn’t think twice and split. It was an attempt to distract them so the ones in the barn could escape. Except that didn’t work. They had been caught and were to pay the price. Immediately I recognized these soldiers from the fort. Since we didn’t stand a chance we fled. A few hesitated though, and as they got behind I assume the soldiers eventually got them. It had been a trap, and the entire setup seemed part of our ‘training’. To what end I didn’t know.

I gritted my teeth as I started digging harder, faster, anxiously…

A false impression of freedom had been bestowed upon us. What were we even trying to do here? They would never let us go. We would never be free again. It was as if the wind ran icy fingers through my hair the very moment I became conscious of that. They’d come looking for us soon, after this blizzard. Or perhaps even during. You never really knew with these guys, whoever they were. No hope of rescue for us… no control over our own choices.

All there was left was a darkness lurking in my heart.

Maybe... I’d better get used to it, and make it my new friend...


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Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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leviticus
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

Unread post by leviticus »

As I woke up I found myself with my feet and lower legs dragged off over cold snow. It seemed I had been discovered and seized by black-clad soldiers, one at each arm. My mouth hurt but not because of any blows I received. My lips were just parched due the weather. However, I must have made a few rather ineffectual attempts to move or escape when I was found, especially since my feet were kept in shackles, which were through a heavy chain connected to an iron collar around my neck.

The entire escape and days in the cold without any warmth or food must have worn out my body as I totally felt incapable of any muscular exertion. If they would have knocked me awake and forced me to walk, I don’t think I would have been able to. Best thing right now was to remain pretending I was unconcious, and just save my strength. If I were to die I prayed it be a quick death, but judging by the earlier methods of my ‘hosts’ I feared the worst.

What was the strangest thing ever was that my captors barely produced any sound. They didn’t complain about their work, nor about the circumstances. They didn’t exchange any word, and I only heard them breathing through the hinged piece of metal that served as the visor of their cruel black helmets. The gruesome pace at which we moved however told me they were either motivated to deliver me, or eager to run another sadistic game with me. A sudden anger threatened to boil up and explode, but I immediately realized it would only do so in my face. This wasn’t the time nor the place. At least that is what I told myself.

The sad truth though was that it would make me feel better, if only for those brief two or three heartbeats. I swallowed down my emotions like they were seeds on fire, and with parting my lips a bit I pretended the cold could sooth my throat. Eventually I was brought in front of nobody less than Sanders. Even as I had my eyes closed I could swear I sensed his sardonic grin upon me before waving off my captors. They just dropped me face down in the snow, and if I wouldn’t immediately ‘wake up’, I likely would have choked.

Coughing I turned my head as I heard the man chuckle. His knees popped as he knelt before me, so likely he must have been standing there for a while. He grabbed me by my hair and roughly lifted my head, forcing me to look up at him.


“And finally we got the last of them. So. Who do we have here? Jezebeth is it? Impressive, but not impressive enough I’m afraid. The others already confessed their attempt to thievery. What do you say?”

I spit snow and dirt out of my mouth, right into his face. And by the looks of it I had awakened the beast in him. No, not a beast. Something far worse. Something more… destructive.

“I bet you wish you could strangle us all, ain’t it, Jezebeth? Yes, you see. I know your type of people, barbaric to the bone. And now you claim we’re the ones who are being cruel, right? Well, let me tell you one thing. You ain’t seen nothing yet. Now, get up.”

Get up…? Was he serious?

He rose to his feet and kicked me in the stomach. The abdominal pain came in twice as hard on my empty belly.

“I said… get up.” He snarled at me.

I tried, I really tried now. I couldn’t believe myself I was getting up at his command. Merely self-preservation I told myself. Just see what he wanted while saving your strength.

“You’re so weak. Now, tell me who entered that barn with you.”

Somehow I knew I would manage. At least as long as my inner psycho would have the last word. I shouldn’t allow him to get into my head and break down my mind in the way like he and those other guys had been doing to my body. So I just pretended to stare at him like as if I didn’t care about his question.

His expression changed, softened almost. “I could promise you one unbroken night, maybe two… IF you tell me who was with you.”

Tempting, very tempting. One or two of such nights and I would be a new girl all over. It would only add to my intention of keeping my body as healthy as possible.

“You only have to tell me…” Sanders droned on. “Tell me or…”

I remained silent, I don’t know why. But I do believe my knuckles must have been white from clenching my fists too hard.

Sanders lost his patience. A bit too early if you ask me. “Tell me or I’ll promise you you’ll never see your dear sun again, no more light ever!”

And that is when I completely lost myself. Or should I say,... found myself?

I started off with a low albeit threatening voice. “When I ever escape, you will be the first I’ll chop down like a diseased tree. You really think I’ll miss the light?!” My voice rose like a tidal wave as I clenched and unclenched my fists. “What makes you even think I’m waiting for the sun to shine down upon me??! Don’t let me out of your sight, cause whenever I have the chance, you will experience your worst nightmare. And the only light that you shall ever behold within is the light that will be shining from my eyes and my hands! Even as the sun sets, there will be nothing but my version of day! I promise you I'll be your brightest star, so be afraid, Sanders, be very… very afraid!”

My chains rattled as I resisted the hands grabbing me from behind to hold me in check. But my heart made this tiny victorious jump as I noticed how Sanders blinked...

Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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leviticus
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Re: Iron Forged - The Rise of a Banite

Unread post by leviticus »

“Sanders, where is my recruit?” Sir Waters slammed his fist down on his wooden desk as he glared sternly at the platoon sergeant.

“I cast her in the mines in the north, ser.” Sanders replied without batting an eyelid.

“And... why did you do such a thing?”

The sergeant mouth’s corners twitched.

“And quit your psychological nonsense on me, it’s not working.” Sir Waters, tall and with broad shoulders, rose from his chair, dark and colossal like a Harbringer. Usually his appearance was enough to instill fear in the hearts of many, especially in those he had trained himself. Not with Sanders however, not now.

Sanders wagged his finger at the First Cohort Commander. “But it is. You know what I always used to say to people when they inquired about you? I tell them that is just the way the man is born, born just as calm as time rolls by in its silent and endless way,... and nothing can change him.” Sanders casually looked out of the window of the fort’s tower. “Nothing, until a Jezebeth arrives that is…”

The commander narrowed his eyes. “And quit making these petty insinuations. If you want to attack me, I’ll meet you down at our training facility. Don’t you think I know you are aiming for my position? Ah wait, right, you even do so quite publically.”

“Indeed, not even behind your back.”

“The woman…” the commander reminded Sanders. “Why?”

“Because it was a fitting punishment, fitting to the words she dared to throw at me.”

Sir Waters’s expression turned serious. “What words?”

Sanders scratched his beard. “Oh… something about being a sun of her own, changing my life into misery… quite bloody too I believe.”

“Dammit man, I want her exact words!”

“See! There it is again. You so easily lose your temper when it concerns that woman. But, alright.” And thus the sergeant repeated Jezebeth’s exact words. After that there was a moment of silence.

“Are you absolutely certain that is what she said?” The cohort commander insisted.

“Yes, yes… totally certain. Why?”

Sir Waters rubbed his hand over his chin, he maintained a steady albeit intense eye contact with his sergeant. “Is it... because how she made you feel that made you sent her to the mines?”

The fact the sergeant blinked told the commander enough, and he didn’t even offered the man the chance to answer the question. Lifting up his hand he said : “You know exactly what she is, or what she could be. And,... you also fear she may jeopardize your future.”

“I’m not sure, but perhaps yes, and not just mine. Yours as well.”

“I could care less, Sanders. You know just as well as me that The Black Network needs people like her. What else did you think we were doing here? You thought this whole operation was just for fun? That we ‘recruit’ these people and say to our men ‘have at it boys’? Each discovery like this heralds a step closer to our cause.”

Sanders yawned. “And now you are going to remind me of the philosophical consequences if such discoveries aren’t utilised. By the way, you really believe you can turn her into a votarist?”

“Either you are stupid, or you play stupid, Sanders. For now I’ll run with the latter. Just bring Jezebeth back to the fort.” The commander ordered, ignoring the second question.

“Now, immediately, ser??” A hint of respect seemed to sound from the sergeant’s voice, but it was uncertain if it were genuine.

The commander thought about that, and then shook his head slowly. “No, unlike you I don’t wish to undermine your command nor your calls. You leave her there a couple of days, and then you bring her back to her platoon. Or whatever is left of them.”

Sanders blinked once, then bowed to his superior.

“And, Sanders?”

“Yes…?” The sergeant froze as he was about to turn away.

“Don’t be soft on her. I know you do a good job out there, and that is why we need you there, not here.”

Sanders smirked faintly. “Of course. I never would grow soft. And… thank you, ser.”

Sir Waters smiled smugly after the sergeant had closed the door behind him. The sword was power, but so was influence. One day though he and Sanders would duke it out with each other.


After writing his report, the commander got up, turned around and leaned over to look out the window. He stared off into the distance where he imagined seeing a little boy, a child in the wintry wind, pulling clothes around tight, and seeking shelter. He remembered how this young boy once dreamt of the most ambient of gardens, enchanted by the blooms and the countless of dancing insects, a place sustained by sapphire water which ran like liquid magic in between.

A fool of course. His death, should he have carried on existing, would have been a kindness. Especially when knowing what was about to come.

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Jezebeth , Natural Follower of Bane... : "Bleeding and crawling is acceptable... quitting is not."
Isabel Constantine , Field Agent of Oghma
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