Ciaran
Member
|
"Nnngg..." Krystal woke up slowly, with a slight headache.
Ugh... what in the name of Corathai did I do last night? I don't remember drinking anything.... why do I have a headache?
She shook her head to clear the mental fog she always had in the morning, then tried to clear her eyes with her hand before starting her morning workout. Her arm, however, refused to move. They seemed to be tied behind her back. She tried moving her legs, but they couldn't move either. She strained against the binds, but to no avail. After thinking for a bit, her eyes still closed, she concentrated. Gray fur with splotches of dark red sprouted from all over her body. Her face mutated into what resembled a wolf's snout. Her fingernails lengthened into claws, and her muscles grew significantly larger. Krystal had transformed into a werewolf. However, she could feel her hands getting cold as the binds on her wrists dug into her skin, cutting off the blood flow. She decided to not risk losing her hands and morphed back to her human form, the transformation completely reversing itself. The fur even shrank back into her body, leaving no trace that it had been there to start with.
Okay, no problem. I'll just burn the binds and—Krystal cried out as her attempt to cast was met with an incredibly painful burning sensation at the base of her skull. She reflexively tried to cover the back of her head with her hands, but again, they were tied down. Note to self: burning through rope bindings will result in massive rope burn.
Realizing she couldn't break free, Krystal stopped struggling, opened her eyes, and looked around.
This isn't my bedroom...
She was in a completely dark room, bound to a chair as if she were prisoner. The room felt unnaturally cold, and the air had the barest scent of mildew. The air felt extremely dry to her, but that wasn't much of a surprise. Few places on Damantos were as humid as the rainforest she grew up in. The chair she was bound to was placed in front of a circular table which had two chairs on the other side of it. There were unlit torches on the walls and no windows that she could see. Considering that Krystal could see quite well in the dark, that meant there weren't any. If she had to guess, she would say she was in the war room in the Tower of the Shield. That warmed her up a bit.
Hooray for darkvision, she thought. I told Sam being a bloodwolf wasn't a curse. How did I get here? Last thing I remember, I was ambushed by paladins in Vivios—"Augh!"
All of the torches lit at once. She clenched her eyes shut, but it was too late. The war room had been replaced with an all-encompassing white. Her eyes burned; she had been blinded. The door to the room creaked open, and footsteps approached her. She estimated they stopped about six feet in front of her, right at the far side of the table. "Krystal of Vivios," a voice that she presumed was the new guy said. "I heard the cry. How are you feeling?"
"Nervous," Krystal admitted, her tone shaking just a little. "I have never been bound like this before." She lightly pushed against the binds for emphasis. "The base of my skull is burning from whatever you use to block spells, and I cannot see, thanks to the torches."
"That's normal for first-timers," the voice said. There was the barest hint of sympathy, as if he were trying to hide his feelings. "The restriction creates fear in the subject's unconscious."
Krystal nodded, having a basic knowledge of psychology herself. She asked, "What am I here for?"
"We needed to talk to you."
The bound adventurer found her forehead creasing on its own. "Why the binds?"
"We had to make sure you wouldn't try to escape or fight." Again, there was a slight hint of emotion in the voice, but it wasn't sympathy. More like sadness.
Ow. That hurt. "I see... With whom will I be speaking?"
"Someone else," the voice said. "Here he comes now. Bye." He was getting fainter as he spoke...
"Hello, Krystal," said a slightly different blur of colors walking towards her.
Krystal might not have been able to see who it was, but she recognized the voice. She felt the tension leave her body as her muscles relaxed. Her voice lost its shakiness. "Hello, Luther."
The silver blur sat down at the opposite end of the table. "How's your vision?"
"The torches blinded me when they activated," Krystal answered, "I can see blurs of color but nothing else. I recognized your voice. What am I doing here?"
Luther's voice changed tone. "Last week, we sent some scouts to Felia Island to explore it. When they got there, however, they were attacked by the island's inhabitants. After a few minutes and a couple casualties on both sides, we managed to stop the fight and talk to the Felians. They claimed that they had already been visited by a human female, who helped them rid their island of orcs and Draconi. After she did that, she proceeded to conquer the Felian people and kill their king."
Despite herself, Krystal took a sharp breath. She could make out fuzzy shapes and lines now, and Luther did not look happy. "That is terrible, Luther. But what does any of that have to do with me?"
"The human they described," Luther continued, "was you. Peach skin, long red hair down her back, wearing white armor with red trim and a gold cape. And the name she gave when asked who had bested them... was 'Krystal.'" Luther looked across the table at the woman—girl, not woman, she wasn't even twenty—who had once been one of his top young officers. Like the Gattans had described, Krystal had long dark red hair that went halfway down her back, light-colored skin, and deep red eyes. Her bust was nice, around what Terrans would call a C cup. Today, she was clothed in simple brown and green leather pants and long-sleeved shirt, of the kind usually used for camoflauge in a forest. Luther had never been able to figure out why she always wore such covering clothes when she had such an attractive body.
Krystal hung her head. "I am sorry, Luther..." was the only thing she could say.
Luther remembered Krystal's rise to the power and respect she commanded. She had started as just a green paladin, like everyone else, like himself even. She quickly rose up the ranks to become one of his youngest officers. She had served the Paladin Order flawlessly, carrying out both of its missions. Not just destroying the undead and eradicating evil, but the other one, the one that only the highest ranking paladins knew about. Even after learning the ways of the necromancer, her loyalty had never wavered. And now... she's just a common criminal. "You were one of the best. What happened to you?" She didn't answer. Luther got up and left, putting out the torches.
Krystal was left to herself in the complete darkness of the war room. Tears started streaming down her cheeks. I'm sorry, Luther...
|
Printable Version
Icon Legend
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread
