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A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Phase II: Opening Shots


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Chapter 12
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“How long? How long has it been since I’ve laid eyes on her? It seems like only yesterday that I had seen her golden hair, felt her silky smooth skin against my own rugged flesh, and tasted the divine fruit which graced her lips, but yet it seems like an eternity ago!

I truly cannot say anymore. Ever since my love had died at the hands of Yahweh’s imcompetence, my mind has been focused on the task at hand: Killing the foul things we named ‘Gods’, and their unnatural servants we have termed ‘Angels’.

And I am close to succeeding. So very, very close. My research as suggested that shapechangers are in some ways immune to the brunt of their mentalist powers. I can think of many ways to test this, but the means to procure a stable source of shapechangers is beyond my grasp for now. It appears that I must make do with the local Doppelganger tribes roaming the Wastes until I can arrange for more favorable subjects.

Though…there may be a way around that yet.


~Skarjil Datashade Glyph [Memories]: Dark Beginnings"
----
Captain Miles Rovin only saw darkness when he came to his senses. He felt himself moving, but wasn’t sure if he was moving on his own or if someone was carrying him instead.

“Wake him,” something in a raspy, otherworldly voice sternly ordered. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, and it was then that Rovin realized that he couldn’t even feel his body, let alone turn his head to see what gave the order.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:45:55 - Last edited on 16-Jan-2014 02:14:17 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Shapes began to take form as light pierced the dark veil. Hushed murmers filled the air as horrifying visions flew past him, and they grew louder as the scenes became more horrid. He saw a woman in the throes of giving birth, but her child was far from human, and sported a slick sheen of an oily substance that oozed from its bulging fish-like eyes. The hellspawn babbled and gurgled noises that weren’t made by normal humans, and worse was the sound of multiple somethings answering back with more guttural and archaic versions of such a noise.

The scene with the new mother was quickly replaced by a view of four masked people looking down on him through a bright light. He couldn’t see much of them because massive goggles over their eyes and rugged cloths over their hair and mouths rebuffed any attempts to identify them by any conventional means.

“Be careful!” one of the masked figures said in a light accent that sounded Asgarnian. “This one bears the Mark on him. Quick, get a gag!”

“Like hell we need a gag,” another figure said, this one with a rough accent that sounded as if it would be right at home on the mean streets of Varrock. “Look, this ‘ere man’s outta it big time!”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t inadvertently activate the spell!” the Asgarnian cried. “Need I remind you what happened with Six?”

“She knew what she was doin’ though,” the Mithalin born figure replied. “I’m willin’ to bet that this guy don’t even know what he got around ‘im!’

“We can’t take that chance,” the Asgarnian said. “Now since I’m head of this operation, do as I say and get a gag!”
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:47:31 - Last edited on 16-Jan-2014 01:47:43 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Rovin saw the figures bring out a piece of dark cloth, and the next thing he knew he was looking at yet another scene. This time all he saw were stone halls lit by unnaturally bright lines of fire, yet they gave off no heat nor sound. He looked down, and saw a scaly shoulder that smelled of dead fish and smoke, yet couldn’t readily identify what seemed to be carrying him.

Then, he knew darkness once more. He would’ve almost welcomed it, if the voice hadn’t intruded as soon as it surrounded him.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, captain. We have a lot to discuss, you and I.”

A figure draped in red and black robes seemed to materialize before him as his vision returned once more. Feeling flooded his body, though he felt stiff as he tried to move to get a better view of his surroundings. Needless to say, he was quite confused about a few things. The room he was in was of similar make to the halls he witnessed, yet the strange fire was nowhere to be seen despite something lighting it somehow. Bookshelves and arcane desks floated lazily in their place, as if awaiting a command from their magical master, and a few tomes he could see were already floating around the robed figure in front of him.

Rovin couldn’t make out the tomes’ contents, but he did catch a glimpse or two of strange creatures that resembled the monstrosities the Fremennik Clans called ‘Daggermouths’, yet the creatures he knew of didn't appear to have human heads sticking out of their backsides with expressions locked in eternal agony.

Regardless, Rovin quickly recalled what happened before he woke up. He remembered the sharp sting of magic as it nearly ended his life. He remembered that it was in defense of a young woman who found herself in a state far worse than death, and he remembered how scared she was when his assailants came out of the shadows to kill him.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:48:52 - Last edited on 16-Jan-2014 01:49:09 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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He also remembered just who the man responsible for all of it was.

“So I presume you’re the Shroud?” Rovin asked almost angrily. The robed figure nodded in confirmation. “Good. I agree. We do have much to discuss.”

~^+^~

Cities never appealed to Mori. Growing up, the Shade had always detested them simply because they seemed just too full of people for comfort, and the bustling crowds and air that was thick with the stench of many races mingling together never helped matters either. Of course, that was back in the old days of Ukrosha, the economic power of the Shade Empire that she had come to at least feel a sense of pride about even though she spent more time shut in her room back at the Chantry of St Rahl studying the latest use for illusions rather than explore the Empire she had read about as often as she had the Theory of Scaling Power.

Some things never change, she thought as she now wandered the streets of Varrock. Despite the millennia that had passed since she left her homeworld with the Brotherhood in search of the ‘paradise’ that was promised to them by the Gentleman, it seemed as if nearly every city in every world was similarly uncomfortable, but something about the city the human’s called ‘Varrock’ just seemed…off.

Though the crowds were a bit grungier than she was used to, there were also fewer races around to interact with. In fact, it seemed as if humans had dominated most of the world despite seeing a few dwarven merchants hawking their wares in the town square, and she had yet to see an elf or, as much as she hated to admit missing the damned things, a vampyre of any clan or bloodline whatsoever.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:50:02

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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But yet, the issue of available races to use for a disguise did*’t seem to be an issue for the Illusionist. She found the strangely shade-like beings easy to imitate in appearance, because all she had to do was simply hide the Shadowstuff that defined the Shade race under a few layers of clothing and a reasonably sized hat. Not that it stopped a few of the less desirable specimens from trying to talk to her in lurid ways as she passed by their alcohol soaked hangouts.

“Eyyy….blondie, yous look…uhhh,” she heard an inebrieated human slur as he stepped from the shadows of an alleyway she passed by.

Mori only spared a half glance at the human. As raggedly dressed as his fat carcass was, and despite the smell of strange alcohols surrounding him, she felt that he looked like a man who was well acquainted with the local authorities. Good. She could use that.

“Lost?” she squeaked innocently from under her bundle of fading yellow magus robes. She made sure to put on a slightly freightened expression to put the man at ease.

“Uhh….yeah that it,” the man said. He stumbled closer to Mori, and she reflexively stepped back and almost said the beginning of an incantation. Quick thinking stopped her from turning the man into a burning pile of ashes, however, and she let the magic fade from the air as the man looked at her with disinterest.

“Ey, whoa ‘dere lass,” the man coughed. “Ol’ Roy don’ mean no *arm to ye. Ya do look lost.”

Mori blinked. “Oh,” she squeaked. “Actually, yes. I am a bit lost now you mention it.”
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:50:38

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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“Wha’, them wizards at tha’ tower did*’ teach ya how to find a place?” the man asked. He hauled himself over to a corner of a ran down building and sat down. How the huge being managed it was beyond her understanding.

“They….only taught me how to do that if I know what I’m looking for,” Mori admitted. “And it’s been years since I’ve been here. I’m looking for the guard station. My brother works there.”

“In tha’ case yer in the wrong neighborhood, girly,” the man said as he pulled out a bottle from seemingly nowhere and opened it. Mori noticed a harsh tinge of copper fill the air, but thought no more of it when the man started drinking.

“That much is obvious,” Mori said, looking around in genuine confusion. Truth be told, she was turned around a bit. The only thing she was sure of was that the guard station was east of the marketplace, but between her trying to bear the discomfort of the city and get her sense of direction back on track, she had gotten turned around and lost track of where she really was. Come to think of it, was she even still in Varrock? The city she had been ordered to infiltrate was supposed to be filled with lavish homes and wealthy merchants ripe for manipulation, which was a far cry from the dryrotted wooden buildings that surrounded her at this very moment. Not to mention the unsavory looking humans that made no attempt to hide their leering at her, though no attempt to approach her was made either.

“Ya, ye’ll be wantin to head thataways,” the man said as he pointed right behind Mori. “It’ll be right up that there road from tha’ museum. Or home thing. Or church. Wha’eve’ it is.”

“How will I know when I found it?” she asked.

“Ye’ll see a big big big….uhh…big flag wit’ Varrock’s symbol on it,” the man replied. “It have swords.”
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:52:48

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Mori turned around and started walking in the direction the man…Ol’ Roy, she think he called himself…was pointing. “I think I can handle that,” she called back. “Thank you!”

The man did*’t bother responding, she noticed. Apparently he had fallen into a drunken stupor, but it really did*’t matter. The mage was just glad to get back on track, but her joy was cut short as a sharp whistle pierced her head.

“Goddammit, what now?!" she asked herself furiously. She knew the whistle could only mean one thing, but she truly did*’t understand why it happened now of all times.

I know you’re there, the disembodied voice of the Gentleman said in the recesses of her mind. You have a lot of explaining to do, mageling.

What is it now? She mentally asked. I’m sort of in the middle of doing the job you told me to, in case you didn't know

No games, Mori , the Gentleman said. I’ve been watching the events in Falador. I KNOW you were in Surok’s chambers.

Mori was glad to see the buildings begin to look nicer and nicer as she found a paved road again. She turned to look around and make sure nothing or nobody was following her or listening (one could never be too sure about what’s waiting for them in this world, she learned), but when she found nothing, she continued on her way.

I’ve mastered Illusions and you still think I would be stupid enough to disobey a direct order from you? She asked angrily.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:55:10 - Last edited on 16-Jan-2014 01:55:47 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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I know what I saw , the Gentleman said. Now explain yourself.

I’m in Varrock, she replied. Whatever you saw in Falador wasn’t me. Maybe it was one of the dwarf’s constructs?

The dwarf doesn’t make golems , the Gentleman said. But mages do.

Illusionists don’t , Mori replied. And you have a few mages serving you besides me. Why not ask Marik what he’s been up to, eh?

That’s another thing , the Gentleman said. He hasn’t reported back as directed. Strife says that he carried our…guest…to our home, but left after the fact. I cannot reach him and fear the worst.

I know nothing, then, Mori replied. I’m sorry, but whatever’s going on over there has nothing to do with me.

It better not , the Gentleman said. Or need I remind you of the fates of those of ill faith in our purpose?

You don’t, Mori sighed. J ust…trust me. I did*’t last this long by being disloyal.

So far,
the Gentleman said. But mark my words. When you get back, we will be discussing this in more detail.

The Gentleman ended the conversation with a sharp unearthly squeal that seemed to worm its way out of Mori’s mouth. The mage felt pain fill her head, and she collapsed to her knees as she clutched her head in a vain attempt to quell the horrible sensations assaulting her.

It lasted a second. It happened so fast that Mori had to hide her embarrassment from the concerned gazes of the humans who circled around her and asked if she was alright. She pushed herself to her feet, dusted off her robes, and assured the small crowd that all was fine.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:58:23 - Last edited on 16-Jan-2014 01:58:49 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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But as she pushed her way through the city, she knew it really wasn’t. The old man, despite the eons he had seen, was not as senile as she thought he’d be. But she couldn’t blame herself for her miscalculations, either. After all, Marik had deceived the old man like the blind fool he was in his quest to deny them paradise at the order of the Chantry’s own Archmage. If a rogue hexblade could do it, surely one of his faithful could have an easier time, couldn’t they?

But the fact was, she hadn’t been as successful as Marik was. The Gentleman knew that the illusion he saw in Falador was really her work. She was sure of it. And if he already suspected her of betrayal, that raised the stakes a bit. Her work would become much harder, and the old man would be ready to kill her if she were to attempt to take him by surprise, much less directly.

The only soothing thought that put her fear and paranoia to rest for now was that paradise was promised to those who were worthy. And looking around the putrid cesspool of a city that called itself Varrock, she knew that the Gentleman was no longer worthy of their Lord’s Paradise. They had spent many years hiding in the shadows like lowly assassins, and for what? The smell of fear that permeated a panicked citizenship desperate to catch the culprits? How was that supposed to bring their goals closer to completion when all that needed to be done was reawaken the Hunter and kill him once and for all to win their god’s favor?
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:59:35

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Mori figured she’d attend to that detail later. The building Ol’ Roy had described came into view, and the Illusionist stopped to duck into an alleyway. One quick spell later, and a brown haired man with a bushy moustache dressed in guard regalia walked out whistling a sea shanty that was popular over in Port Sarim at the moment.

The disguised Mori approached the guard station, and two uniformed officers in rusty chainmail greeted her at the door. “By the gods, Captain Rovin!” one of the officers cried. “We thought you dead! Word in the station was that Ben saw you get stabbed by a magical dagger or three!”

Mori cleared her throat and willed magic to fill it. “Well, I’m a hard man to kill,” she said, mimicking his voice perfectly. “I did fight the Baron, after all.”

“Brutal beast, I hear about that one,” the other officer said. “We need to make sure you’re alright though. You know, to make sure a necromancer didn't get to you yet.”

“No need,” Mori said as she brushed past the guards. “I’m goin’ after the murderblades who tried killing me though. I’ll need a good lot of men for that one.”

“So soon?” an officer asked, trailing behind her.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

^+^ If the Gods see fit to curse us with the Blood, then we shall raise ourselves above them ^+^

16-Jan-2014 01:59:53 - Last edited on 16-Jan-2014 02:00:41 by A Mad Hatter

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