Darkest Heart IX

Joeyray's Bar
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I touch the armor.
I start chanting in an ancient language, one that only Zarrath knew. He'd taught me how to do this. Graal could feel the demonic presence being pulled out of him and inserted into the armor. This continued for another 20 minutes, then finishing, I say, "Her'ath toren so'goth," binding the demon to service and the armor. I sigh, putting my duster back on and tapping the armor. "You can move now, it's done."
I stumbled back, light headed from everything that had happened. "That...was different." I was gasping for air.

The demon chuckled. "I am contempt to this practice of yours...boy. But I should just be glad that I have another chance to walk in the world of men, so much for keeping this place pure from injustice and...meddling. Isn't that right, Angel?" He put some venom behind those words, he wasn't doing it maliciously, but was only telling the truth.
Andilite is inches from the armor's throat, making it's occupant nervous. "You'd do well to remember what those words were. Words more ancient than you, and far more powerful. Should you attempt to break the contract that has been forged, you will be sent into a true hell, just for you."
The demon started to burst out laughed, the voice itself was demonic. "And you should remember that not even the Fallen are allowed to meddle in affairs with men, but that was broken long ago already. And what a fun little toy you have there, and I was only telling the truly. Not that there's any point in getting hostile about it."

I felt like the life was being sucked out of me, just being this close to me.

The demon then looks at me. "Sorry about that, but that is just a normal side effect that happens after it. You're lucky that you didn't die from it, for it's possible. Because I've seen that exact ritual before. Poor kid..."
Zarrath sheaths Andilite and leaves while I help Graal sit down. "You'll be alright, Graal. As for you, go familiarize yourself with the Manor, it will be your home for a long time."
I sat down with the help of Tobi.

The demon just does a little bow. "As you wish, child." Tobi could tell that the demon was just having some fun with him. He left the room.

"Tobi...what was that about? Him and Zarroth?"
Pain.

He struggles to his feet. Falls.

Pain. Why?

Slowly, he rises, pressing against the ground as if trying to drive it away. The agony tears through him, forcing him back down.

Curse you!

A gurgling noise escapes him as he tries to scream his anger and pain, but nothing more.

My throat! My body!

The sucking, hissing gasps send black blood spraying from his throat. He rises to his knees, then plunges backwards.

Curse you! Damn you!

No, Frytharm. He will never be damned nor cursed. YOU are the one who is condemned, because you dared to question His orders.

Silence!

I will not be silenced. Think. Would YOU have ever done what he has done? Is there any doubt he was ordered to do this? Would YOU have obeyed such an order? Ever?

Begone! I hate you!

Why hate me? I am only here to help, as I have always been. I am your FRIEND, Frytharm.

Stop calling me that! Curse you!

I did not give you that name. You chose it for yourself, remember? Or have you forgotten already that you joined me of your own free will?

He grovels on the ground, blood flowing from his neck and down to the now withering grass.

I am here to HELP... Let me take away the PAIN... I have always been your FRIEND, Frytharm.

He cluthces his throat.

You have never... been my... friend.

Never? Who was it who opened your eyes to the Oppression?

Would that you never had! I should never have listened to you! I would have been General in your place, but now my weak brother takes my rightful place! Agh, he is weak, but he was stronger than I. I hate you, Lucifer!

He screams in a fresh wave of agony, this one from a different source.

YOU WERE NEVER TO SPEAK THAT NAME! THAT WAS THE NAME HE GAVE ME! NEVER SPEAK IT AGAIN!

My name... was a good... name... should never... have... listened... to you. I... want it back! Give it back!

No. I cannot do that. You are bound to me, and you can never leave, Frytharm. Do you see? The Enemy does not even want you back! And how could they?

Silence, silence, shut up shut up shut up! I hate you, Lucifer!

A gurgling scream of pain.

NEVER SPEAK THAT NAME!

Agh! Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer! I hate you! Curse you, curse you, curse you! Leave me!

I will leave you for a time. Go ahead, try to repent again. And when you are rejected once more, do not come crawling to me, Glutton.

He sits up, then slumps to the side, leaning against a rock. He rises, and howls his hate to the sky... tries. The spray of blood from his throat and the harsh gurgling whistle are all he gets.

Can't speak... can't even... eat...

A mortal would have been killed on the spot.

But I am denied even that!

Desparately he rips off a fragment of his clothing and binds it around his throat. He tries to speak. "I... ugh."

He slides to the ground. "Hell... Hell... take me. I'm... I'm... finished."

His eyes close and his rasping breath slows, but death does not find him.

A musician does.
Chris yawns and rolls over, there was no way he could sleep. He gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom. There, he washes his face.
IC:
"...and that, will be enough for now. You're learning quick, but there's still got a long way to go. Now don't let this go to your head and practice when you get the chance."
I nod, grinning with boyish exuberance at my progress;
"Alright, I'll do my best."
The Warden nods approvingly;
"Good, now sleep."
And with that, I slip into blackness.
Meanwhile, up in Noct's room...

A gentle snoring could be heard, if one focused their ear on the doorway, intent on listening in on the actions taking place within the room. Of course, being only one person within its roomy confines would mean only so much anyway...

"Man, I've forgotten how wonderful it is to sleep... I've been relying on shards to keep me awake for too damn long..." Noct speaks aloud, standing amidst a dream-scape of his own creation, a rather beautiful garden. With his hands on his hips and deciding to quickly stretch, he opens his eyes. With pitch-black roses decorating the dreamworld in a nearly unending carpet, and small fences separating the garden's cobblestone pathways from the plants themselves, it was quite a peaceful appearing place, with a rather Gothic theme to itself.

With an exploratory turn, he quickly surveys the small place. Anything beyond the distance of about a mile seemed to simply fade away, disappearing into the unimagined distance, places yet to have been imagined or thought out, hammered into existence by the force of a mind. Finishing his quick little revolution, he turns and faces a circular section of the pathway. Gently stretching out a hand, and letting the palm of his hand face skyward, a small shard shifts into existence. With a gentle wicking motion, he sends the little memory embedded in it over to the clearing.

With a slow motion, it sinks into the ground. Within a moment, the earth in the area twists and calmly bends and twists skyward, forming an open-topped gazebo, complete with a few chairs and tables, and one centered just slightly off from the center, facing away from an open section. With an odd expression on his face, he repeats the gesture for weaving a shard, and similarly deposits it into the center of the structure. With a flurry, small sections of the floor begin to come apart, small stones whirling upwards, twirling mid-air, and falling down, forming into small black and white keys. Other larger, flatter sections also dislodge from the floor, forming the other components for an old, familiar instrument.

With a content sigh, Noct sits down on his freshly created piano, a few memories of people who he could truly call friends and colleagues in life flashing by. With a happy smile, he stretches his hands, and begins to play, a few extra shards acting as fill-in instruments...

OOC: Whether or not Seraphim can climb into other people's memories, your choice. More reveal on who/what Noct is though...
If he does, I have a feeling it could get trippy.

IC: Making sure Graal is ok, I head outside of the Manor to get some fresh air, only to find Altun standing in a hole in the fence. "Damnit Altun, couldn't you have thrown whatever it was over the wall?"
OOC:
Nope, he can't... but given the unintentional connection between Noct & Seraphim... well, lets just say that Seraphim's not going back to the right body/mind... (evil grin)
You have my permission to proceed. I will be chewing out an angel.
OOC: just standing by as theres pretty much nothing for me to do currently.
Could join me in chewing out the angel.
IC:
I come drifting back up from the depths of sleep to the sound of music;
...what the?...
Opening my eyes, I blink in disbelief, trying to make sense of what I was seeing;
"Where the... wait, what is this?..."
I ask a very surprised Noct.
OOC: Ok then.

IC: I awoke after a while to find it still nighttime. Curiously, Solareon was glowing very bright. "An angel must be near..." I head down to the courtyard to see Tobi and Altun. "Whats going on..."

OOC: Last post for the night.
His eyes close and his rasping breath slows, but death does not find him.

A musician does.


Well delivered.

Altun almost steps out of the manor grounds but stops when he sees the mortal bent over the devourer.
A test then.
If the devourer tried to eat the man, he would Smite Evil and the man would be unharmed.

***

Thom looked at the man who had fallen near him with disbelief. Surely he would have died from such a fall.

Yet the figure stands and binds it's throat. It wobbles for a few moments... then slides to the ground as if it were made of putty.

Thom runs over to the figure and kneels beside him, wondering what to do. Then he is struck by genius. Do exactly what the hero would never do!

"HELP!"

Thom's voice carried like only a performers can. It reached the ears of all in the manor, and the horses in the stables neighed at the sudden unpleasant sound.
Ravener's eyes struggle to open, but his own hissing, spitting blood, combined with mud and now-melted grass, makes them essentially useless. He makes out the blurred form of a man, then a sudden shout stabs at his ears. He tries to identify the man but, his efforts in vain, closes his eyes and tries to seek refuge in unconsciousness. Ah, it's not easy being immortal.

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