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 The Dead Rose

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Posts : 90
Join date : 2011-03-03

PostSubject: The Dead Rose   Tue Mar 29, 2011 4:06 pm

A soft cool hand touches Gelana's face as she lies dozing on her white mat.
The reaction is not unexpected, but the speed is.
Slowly the frightened Draenei releases the healer’s throat and lets her hand drop back to lie protectively on her stomach.

After the healer has left Gelana lays back watching the room again. Being here is starting to feel like a punishment, even if it’s for her protection.

On the other side of the room she sees the couple are asleep again and wonders why they are in this place.
The male had woken briefly earlier in the day and suddenly the air had seemed different. Gelana shivered slightly as the memory triggered a feeling similar to what she had felt earlier, almost as if the air had been alive, dark and brooding with unexpressed danger.

Trying to relax on the hard floor is proving more and more of a mission and once again she looks longingly towards the door and the prospect of fresh air.

Closing her eyes she vows silently not to set foot in Plaguelands again, ever.

She never even knew they were there, one moment she had been speaking with a vendor trying to drop his price on a piece of merchandise and suddenly a tick of pain and she was too dizzy to stand.

Drifting in and out she didn’t know much of the flight to her final location, at least until she was pulled back to reality on the end of a fist.

A masked face peered at her, the eyes of a stranger with a voice that sounded almost familiar. She had tried to resist but a bit more violence had decided her actions. Too many shadowy figures lurked around her in this place, which appeared to be some sort of crypt. No use trying to fight, it was made plain her life was no longer a priority.

The request had been strange, the damaged body of a naked, man? The machine keeping him preserved was not that difficult to work out, not for one with her knowledge. Why would this shambling excuse for a living body be dependant on a strange machine?

She tried to fight again, refusing to help the shattered soul at her feet, but it was a life for life trade if she did not, or if she failed...
Kneeling as a woman took her place opposite to help bring the body back from whatever hell it was in, she studied the tubes connecting it to the machine.

The tube into the throat was easily removed, however the four connected to the limbs proved more difficult as the flesh rotted and died before their eyes. The sight of the man’s flesh turning black in chunks filled her with fear, a life for a life, if they didn’t kill her anyway to keep their secret.

The strange woman opposite her began to clean the body parts, sending powerful jolts into the darkened areas. It had the desired affect and the flesh marbled back to grey and pink. Finally done, she had looked at the main feeder into his lower spine.

Removing it caused an immediate reaction as the rot raced along his spine towards his head, and whatever remained of his brain. The woman cleansed him, working hard to stop the spread as sweat beaded along her forehead. The tube finally free she had started channelling healing energy into the shattered man to aid the cleaning the stranger was providing.

Then he stopped breathing.

Luckily a few hard thumps to the chest resulted in a strangled whistling sound as he took air through the hole where his lower jaw had at one time been. Once sure they had stabilised him, it was a simple matter to pull him into a standing position, where he seemed to remain swaying, at least he didn’t fall.

Hoping to escape now they had what they wanted she had gone as close to the door as possible.

"Take him above."

As they moved with the walking corpse one of the figures had removed something from a bag, and a quick glimpse of a tabard was revealed as it was used to wipe something from the damaged man’s body.

The Dead she knew she was going to die. Her former order knew no mercy, especially for those who had secrets to keep, secrets best kept by the dead.
Her attempt at escape was short lived as the powerful form of a changed Gilnean grabbed her, easily restraining her despite her desperate struggles.

A little more violence ended with a hand to her throat, squeezing her breath until she almost blacked out completely. One of the shadows stepped forward, energy visibly glowing around its small body. Soft whispers from the hooded face and a shard shattered in its hand, releasing a ball of iridescent light which flew straight at her.

The pain started almost gently then built up until it was blinding in intensity. Her voice screaming, echoes back from the walls as her voice cracked from agony. A burning knife carving into her upper back as the dark warlock stood watching smugly. Finally it moved away and the pain level dropped dramatically, leaving her shaking and throwing up all over the floor of the crypt.

A new figure moved into view, her death reflected in the strange glow from hands charged with dark arcane power. A voice nearby, almost familiar, sparing her life not allowing her to die. The punch that knocked her head against the floor was too strong to fight.

Hot sun burning down on her exposed skin as she hung bruised against the chains binding her to the tree. Escape was not difficult with the sweat making her skin slippery and finally she knelt and clicked for Dew.

It took two attempts to finally climb up on the snow white back where she lay slumped as they climbed into the air, heading towards the closest City. Somewhere over the cold land around Iron Forge she had lost conscious, falling from Dew’s back to land in the snow beneath them.

Too weak to heal herself she lay in the snow shivering, the burning mark on her upper back melting a puddle into the ice beneath her as the darkness pulled her down into its oblivious embrace.

The gentle voice as beautiful as life itself, bringing back the pain of reality. But the sight of the figure at first look so frightening, as if the branch of a tree that had become sentient. With realisation came acceptance as the figure did not try to cause any pain.

Her healing spread warmth through cold limbs while a powerful dragon form landed on the icy ledge beside them. Rather than fly to Iron Forge, she was taken to Stormwind to endure the endless fussing from the healers.

Gelana sighs and gets up to stretch her legs and ease the discomfort of the hard ground. Exploring brings an unexpected revelation beneath the room and she sits on the floor of the crypt, pressing her back to the soothing stone.

Peace flows into her and the pain from the burning rune in her flesh fades to a dull ache. It’s so cool and relaxing down in the crypt, head nodding she slips into a dreamless sleep as golden flames grow to lick around her body.
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Posts : 90
Join date : 2011-03-03

PostSubject: Re: The Dead Rose   Tue Apr 19, 2011 9:02 pm

*Blood is spreading rapidly everywhere inside the room. My hands are red with it, running off my fingers into the dark pool racing over the floor. I think I may drown soon and I look over my shoulder at Miss White and the Paladin beside her.*

The Paladin is introduced as Mr Stoneheath, one of the best I am told. He seems the silent watchful type as he stands beside her, armour glowing with his inner light. Finally Miss White has done enough study to help me with the warlock’s rune, maybe now I will be chosen by my Knight and given my freedom of the Keep.

I have been moved from Stormwind and brought to this place, the Knights own guarded safe Keep. Its been a long wait while Miss White has studied the design of the rune, trying to work out how to remove it, now its time to see if she has the knowledge needed.

I remove my tabard and my small shirt before laying face down on the mat before the fire as instructed. Miss White has warned me this could be painful but right now the only thought in my mind is gaining my freedom, I hate being restricted, brings out the worse in me.

She touches my shoulder and hands me something for the pain, it tastes truly unusual but I am too polite to pull a face over it, besides my need to roam free is pushing too strong for me to risk her changing her mind about removing the rune.

She begins to bring light from her hands and I lay my head down, watching the glowing from the corner of my eye. The Paladin joins in and a strange sensation begins over my back, almost like pressure under the skin.

The pressure builds up until it hurts, I can feel the outline of the rune etched into my back and I close my eyes tight trying not to cry out until finally they stop for a moment to rest.

My back throbs with pain while they discuss the next step, I remind myself silently this will pass and I will be free to go back to my studies, colleting my plant samples once more.

They begin again, the pain changes rapidly to white hot as the skin splits over the rune, opening up into an intricately traced raw wound. Finally I scream through my tears, all thoughts of freedom wiped from my mind by what is happening to me.

~I fly upwards into a darkness so deep it feels like oil around me and I reach out blindly seeking a familiar object with my hands. The voice is soft and gentle making me feel safe, it knows me and whispers my name, no need to seek anything with my hands anymore I have found what I needed to find.

The small glow before me expands until I am looking down on a room with three forms in it. The woman and the man are doing something to the body face down on the mat before the fire, they are hurting her and I see her screaming.

As I watch I know it is me, yet I am not alone anymore, I have someone with me and they are going to stop them. I see the woman on the floor trying to tell them, to explain that all is as it should be yet why don’t they listen? The woman struggles to escape but cannot seem to get enough strength to stand and still they glow as light pours into her back~

I am thrown forward into the room, pain crashes into me as Miss White says something behind me, something I cannot hear over my pain. There is blood all over the room now, more and more leaking from my red hands, have I done something bad?

~Again I am pulled upwards into the dark, this time I am ready and reach out around me until I feel something warm and hair covered. Feeling along the misshaped body I take what could be the throat between my hands and squeeze as hard as I can. The darkness wavers around me, I am succeeding so I use my hooves to lash out at the shape before me, kicking and kicking until I find myself weakly trying to push against the mat I am lying on.~

The warm glow over my back washes the pain from me, leaving me shaky and weak, but glad to be alive. The link through the rune almost killed me, pulling me away from my body towards some dark hell. I no longer feel the rune etched on my back and a weak glance over my bare shoulder shows skin pure and clean again.

My tabard is crumpled on the mat close enough to reach and I pull the familiar symbol to me, holding it like a shield against my trembling body. A soft whisper as the voice tries to take me again but its weak and I push my mind forward until I feel the resistance break, I have taken control if it and it belongs to me to use as I see fit.

My body needs rest, around me the voices blur until they are faded to nothing, someone places a cover over me on the mat without moving me.
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Posts : 90
Join date : 2011-03-03

PostSubject: Re: The Dead Rose   Mon May 23, 2011 12:00 pm

I will not be working out ingame RP to extend this storyline with the awesome gnome Warlock.

Thanks for helping on this, was a great rp and thank you for teaching a noob how to rp, wink

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