by Savanja on Jan 24, 2006
So you just passin' through these here parts? The storeowner asked.
Yeah. The man answered as he browsed the shelves for supplies.
Hmph. Not much for conversation, are ya sonny?
I'm here to restock, not for small talk. Where do you keep your weapon maintenance supplies? The man turned to look at the shopkeeper as he asked this.
In the back, next to the mining supplies. Old Jasper looked over his customer. Normally out here in the Feerott, people enjoyed stopping to banter a bit. Not this one. He was a bit over the average height for a human. He had short black hair that seemed to show off some red when it caught the light just right. His goatee was trimmed and had the same colorings. His armor was dented and worn. Heavy plate that had seen many battles from the looks of it. His face had the scars of battles fought, some won, some lost. Old Jasper had seen enough faces in his time as a merchant to know a soldier when he saw one, and a Knight to boot. So you're a Knight then, are ya? Where do you hail from?
Just south of nowhere, old man. The man slung his purchases onto the counter. Now what's the damage?
As the man came closer, Old Jasper's flesh began to crawl. Up until now, the knight had kept his distance, but he had to come up to the counter to pay for his things. Suddenly, there was a blanket of fear that had become a palatable entity that surrounded the old merchant. When he looked again into the man's eyes, he saw the ghosts of hate that drove him. Now Old Jasper knew why the man didn't talk much no one ever wanted to talk to him. He was a Shadow Knight, champion of Death of decay of fear.
T take take it! The old merchant hissed. Take it and go ! It was a pretty penny lost to be sure, but well worth the price of getting this man out of his shop.
The knight's face showed regret for only a split second before it contorted in anger. Fine! the man hissed, Thanks for the gifts, old man! and with a sneer over his shoulder as he left, I might come back here. The prices are so reasonable.
Old Jasper had met Shadow Knights before. They frequented the areas of the Feerott often, but this had to be the first time he saw anything resembling regret in the attitude of one. That boy's just downright odd .
The knight swung his sword in an upward arc, blocking the lizard's staff from making a new dent in his helmet. He heard the chanting from the shaman behind the lizard man warrior in front of him and realized that he was about to get hit. The knowledge did nothing to lessen the feel of nausea he suddenly felt. Damn disease-casting bastard! I've got to stop that, fast!
His momentary weakness allowed the lizard warrior to gain a bit of ground in the struggle to bash his head in. He heard chanting again and realized he'd heard the spell before. If he didn't move quickly, the knight knew he would be hurting. He brought up a metal boot into the groin of the lizard warrior. It buckled him, but only for a few seconds, not enough time to get to the caster. Without hesitation, the knight brought to his mind his most painful memories. He then channeled them into feelings of hate and anger.
I call upon the souls of my vanquished foes to aid me! He growled between clenched teeth. The ground in front of the shaman exploded as a skeletal warrior crawled forth from the depths and attacked the casting lizard man, interrupting his spell and forcing him to go to hand to hand combat.
The knight turned on the now recovered lizard warrior. Now, it's your turn. He advanced on the warrior with a vicious sneer and all the hate he could summon in his heart. Without his caster healing him and backing up his offense, the lizard warrior stood no chance against the raging knight that stood before him.
At the same time, the skeletal warrior dealt the final blow to the shaman. The battle was over. The knight and the skeletal warrior locked gazes. Someday, the Skeleton hissed, you too will be amongst us Brokain, and when that time comes we will exact a long and painful revenge for this humiliation
Brokain looked at the skeleton as it was absorbed back into the purgatory it came from. I know, he said almost regretfully, and when that time comes, I shall defeat you again
We shall seeeeeeee... the skeleton hissed as it disappeared.
Master Brokain! Truly a great victory for you! Brokain's squire came out from behind a tree. I was enthralled at your tactics. One day I hope to be POW ! Brokain's gloved hand struck the lad sharply across the face.
If you EVER so much as LOOK at me after turning your tail and leaving me to rot like that again, I will drive my sword through your heart my self! Brokain looked down on the young man and saw fear and loathing. There was obviously a hope that his master would've perished. No doubt to sell his goods for a goodly amount of coin and buy his way into the knighthood. Go and get me some sisal root from the store we passed a few miles back he said, his tone weary and disappointed. The shopkeeper will have nothing more to do with me. He gave him enough gold to escape Feerott if he so chose and watched his eyes light up and he ran off.
He sat back against the tree and leaned over to throw up. The disease hasn't worn off yet I see. He hated when a battle came to a point where he needed to summon souls to fight for him. The amount of hate it took to call and control them was immense and he lost a piece of his soul each time, but what was worse were the memories he had to dredge up in order to awaken that much hate. They never left his mind easily. Especially after a battle, when the hate faded and was replaced by the pain of loss and betrayal held in those memories. Memories that were four years old .