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A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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V ducked as he entered the Shaman’s tent. The interior of the tent was cluttered with random herbs and bits of various branches and animal bones, and more than one odd symbol hung from the walls in a pattern whose purpose eluded even one of his magical talents. Even stranger were some smells which he couldn’t put a name too that pervaded the tent.

An elderly Rakshasa sat cross legged in the middle of the tent, and its eyes were closed. It had a feathered headdress on top of its scalp, and more than one bone necklace hung from its neck. As V stepped towards the tiger-man, it spoke. “Come, corpse man,” it said with a cracked voice. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You know what I am?” V asked as he stepped closer to the Rakshasa shaman.

“You stink of undeath, yet wonder whether or not I know you for what you are,” it replied as it opened its eyes. “I may be old, but my sense of smell remains with me yet.”

“Then maybe you can tell me why I’m here,” V said as he sat down in front of the shaman.

“I know many things, but I am no Rakshasi. Nooo, the females…they are the oracles and diviners, not us male medicine shamans.”

“I’m not from this plane, so don’t take it personally if I don’t know about your culture.”

The Shaman smiled, showing that he was missing some teeth. “This is good, a corpse with manners.”

“Yet the shaman disrespects me by not telling me why he wants to see me,” V replied.

The Shaman shook his head. “I am sorry, but it’s been so long since I’ve talked with the undead. I forget at times that some of your kind does not use the eternal life aspect to their advantage when conversing. As for why I wish to see you, it is because I was asked to by a...mutual ally of ours.”
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:01:40 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2011 03:18:27 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
Dec
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2005

A Mad Hatter

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V didn't betray any emotion in his eyes. “And who would that be?”

“I fear you already know,” the Shaman said. “But he asked me to pass this message on to you: the time to choose is nigh. He will be around to collect on his favor, and expects an answer at that time.”

“Ah…so why does he not come to me and tell me this himself? Surely if his venture is important as he claims it is, he can spare the time to at least tell me this directly.”

“The ways of this mage are unknown to me,” the Shaman replied dryly. “I just do as he requests of me from time to time, and he provides insight to what is happening around the world if it threatens the tribe. It is how all shamans survive.”

V nodded as he took the words in. “That’s all?”

“What else were you expecting?” the Shaman asked.

“Oh, I don’t know…maybe something more than a reminder of a deal I made. Maybe answers as to why a Clansmeet is gathering here. Or why the hell your tribesmen didn't just take the ‘Koshir’ and leave the rest of our little group alone.”

The Shaman shrugged. “I know nothing about the Koshir other than what I hear around camp. He is hated by most Rakshasas of this world.”

“Yet one serves him,” V shot back.

“The mountain tribes of Rakshasa are different from those who roam the plains,” the Shaman explained. “The tribes who roam the plains are creatures of honor. They may be brutal, but they always honor their ways in all things, be it battle or trade. The mountain tribes, however, are greedy. Dishonorable in the eyes of the plains tribes, even. They willingly sell their values for coin and material wealth, forgoing the traditions of spirit and valor. Their large stature...it goes to their head, makes them think they're invincible.”

“If that’s the case, then why are there mountain tribes here?” V asked.

The Shaman thought for a moment before replying, “You shall find out soon enough. Come nightfall, I suspect the great spirit shall condemn you to serve as the vanguard of the Grim Hunt.”

~^+^~
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:02:59 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2011 03:21:56 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Night fell across the Rakshasa camp quickly. The Rakshasas who were doing hard labor and hauling supplies around and making weapons and armor from said supplies had abandoned their duties as the call circulated around the camp. No self respecting Rakshasa would dare disobey the call, for to do so would invite the wrath of the various chieftains of the tribes, and nobody, not even the massive mountain Rakshasas, would be crazy enough to think that was a good thing.

It was then that Arial found himself being woken from his troubled sleep in his tent, and being led down a dirt path towards the center of the camp. It was bigger than he first thought, for as he looked around he saw at least ten times as many tents as the normal Rakshasa camps had. Banners for the various tribes hung from sticks planted in the ground outside some of the tents, and he recognized none of them save for the banner of the Roaring Sun tribe, which depicted a crude orb with an open mouth lined with razor sharp teeth.

His captors eventually stopped in a wide open space that was surrounded by three large tents to the north. Hundreds, if not thousands, of Rakshasa tribesmen had crowded the area, but they left enough room for Arial and his captors to worm their way to the front of the area which was closest to the gigantic tents. Many a Rakshasa stared daggers at him as he passed, for none had soon forgotten about the Koshir in their midst.

“Hey, Arial!” Joran called out as he spotted the general in the crowd. He ran towards Arial, and soon stood next to his boss in the front. Lukil was not far behind, and soon enough Rajh had appeared from the crowd to stand in the front as well.

“General,” Lukil said as he nodded to Arial.

“Koshir,” Rajh greeted him.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:05:10 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2011 03:23:14 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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Arial looked at his companions. “Did any of you guys figure out what’s going on around here?” he asked.

Joran and Lukil shook their heads, and stated that they had spent the entire day in the prison tents. Joran had tried to leave of course, only to be thrown back in when the Rakshasa guarding the door caught him in the act.

“Great,” he said. “That just leaves...what was the guy’s name anyway? The one with the red clothes?”

“He called himself V,” Joran said.

“Have any of you seen him around here?” Arial asked.

Nobody answered. As Arial was about to look for him in the crowd, the entire area fell silent as a loud horn blared through the air. The group turned to face the tents, and saw that a group of well muscled Rakshasa chieftains had emerged from the large tents, as well as an elderly Rakshasa which could only be the highest ranking shaman of the assembled tribes.

“Hon’korjaki Rakshasa!” one of the chieftains called out. The crowd echoed his words. “Koqu ki anteeksi, enkoral Koshir!” another cried as he pointed at Arial. The crowd fell silent as they glared at the general.

“Hey, Rajh, what are these guys saying?” Joran asked.

“They’re crying out the usual Rakshasa praises,” Rajh answered. “And they’re insulting the Koshir.”

“Wait a minute,” Joran said. “What the hell happened to your annoying accent thingy?”

Rajh opened his mouth, and pointed at his tongue. Arial couldn’t make out any great detail in the little light that the nearby torches provided, but he caught a glimpse of silver that took up way too much space to be a small tongue ring.

“Traditional mountain tribe torture,” Lukil answered. “That ‘annoying accent thingy’, as you so eloquently put it, is what they believe to be a gift from their patron spirits. To take such a speech impediment away from a mountain Rakshasa in the form of a literal 'silver tongue' is a sign that they’re dishonored by the tribe.”

Joran stared at Lukil in disbelief. “I don’t want to know how you know that,” he said.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:07:31 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2011 03:24:31 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
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A Mad Hatter

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As soon as the chieftains were done with the traditional openings of the ceremony, Chief Grazz’t stepped forward to speak. “This Clansmeet is now in session!” he cried.

“Why are we here?” demanded a Rakshasa in the crowd. “The Horned Fly tribe had a good spot in the swamps near Egrissa, and we demand to know of our chief what is going on!” Many others in the assembled crowd echoed similar sentiments, and it was all the chieftains could do to prevent a riot from starting.

“Honorable tribesmen!” one of the chieftains cried. “A Clansmeet was called because it was needed! Dark times are ahead of us!”

The crowd demanded to know why. Chief Grazz’t spoke up. “You wish to know why you all were called here. Very well, then. Let the Elder Shaman start at the beginning, if you all will.”

The elderly Rakshasa dressed in strange clothing stepped forward. He spoke in the guttural tongue of the Rakshasas, and Rajh translated the story to Arial and his companions. He couldn’t follow most of it since Rajh was whispering, but he got enough of it to know that something big was happening if all of the tribes could get together in one place.

“As you can see,” Grazz’t said. “The Demon Wolves have returned to the world again. The Purple Demon who had come into our lands had unknowingly released them, and it is because of his foolishness that we are all here today.”

“But fear not," another chieftain continued. “For now, a great spirit has been sent to us in our time of need!” The crowd fell silent in awe at the leader’s words. No doubt they were wondering if he spoke the truth or not.

"Behold!” Grazz’t cried as he drew the flap of one of the large tents open. V emerged from the tent first, and a rumbling sound vibrated in the area after he took a spot at Grazz’t’s side.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:08:45 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2011 03:25:51 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
Dec
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2005

A Mad Hatter

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The assembled tribesmen looked around in confusion as the vibrating continued. Clouds of dust were kicked up around the edges of the area, and chunks of earth flew from vacant spots in the crowd towards the front of the area closest to the tents. Several Rakshasas jumped back in surprise, and more than one fell to their knees in awe of the obviously divine manifestation of their guardian spirit.

The bits of earth which had flown towards the front had taken on a vaguely humanoid form. As it stretched its arms, large clumps of soil and rocks fell from the frame, cutting it down to a size which was slightly larger than the Rakshasa chieftains.

Even though the Rakshasas in the crowd were cowed by the manifestation of the newcomer, Arial stood frozen with surprise. The rock-like humanoid which stood beside V and the Chieftains flexed its arms, causing its rocky skin to audibly grate against itself. “Badda bing, kitties,” it rumbled in a low voice.

“What the hell is that?” Joran asked.

“Wait…I recognize that thing,” Lukil said. Turning to Arial, the portly shade added, “That was the creature which was in your cell in Skyvern Keep with you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Arial answered. “And he’s not a ‘thing’. His name’s Grim.”

^+^ The End of Chapter 15 ^+^
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:11:13 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2011 03:26:43 by A Mad Hatter

A Mad Hatter
Dec
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2005

A Mad Hatter

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For some reason I can't help but feel this chapter sucked while writing it >.>

Anyway, definitely tried that trick with updating before, Azi. It works, but not when I post late at night and end up running solely on caffeinated drinks just to get some work done (I know, bad move...but I'm not known for thinking things through at times :P )

Ogre...not even gonna bother commenting since I already annoyed you ingame already about your comment. But moar will come :D
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

22-Oct-2010 04:17:32

A Mad Hatter
Dec
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2005

A Mad Hatter

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New chapter starts on next page. Ignore this and (maybe) the following posts from me on this page.
^+^ Antediluvian of the Draculesti Bloodline ^+^

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

31-Oct-2010 03:14:28

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