Tim Writes Again!

Should Tim write more often?


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Timdood3

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Hey, guess what? I'm finished with band camp! And as a result, I spent some time writing ^-^
After his initial fit of rage, Korin was after the shade once more. Naturally, Ocelot and Obelis followed swiftly, winding through the tall pines. The three of them had all but lost sight of the being, and were gaining ground. The shade rounded a bend, as did Korin, as did Ocelot, but Obelis stopped. Before him was a familiar scene, though he knew he'd never been to this place.

Obelis saw a clearing a mere fifteen feet across, but at its center was a pale white alter speckled with flecks of black. At its base was a series of rings acting as steps. He couldn't see over it, but he knew that it had the same bowl shape carved into its top. The only thing he didn't know if it was filled. He tried to call out to his new found companions, but couldn't manage a word before he ended up on the ground retching.

Luckily, it was enough to gain the wolves' notice. They both turned around to check on him, Korin the more reluctant one. Neither had ever seen such an altar before, and thus had no idea what was afflicting their friend. Distracted, neither of the wolves had seen where the shade went,but Obelis saw it pass over the shrine as he was falling. And since it led them here, he knew it was somehow attached to the Redimet. Clearly, he still had work to do.

"What's wrong, paladin?" Ocelot rushed to Obelis' aid and helped him to a standing position.

Obelis brushed him off, slightly annoyed. "Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that? I have a name you know." Obelis hated to come across so roughly, but he had to make certain that the kid stopped calling him 'paladin.' Paladins had honor already, they didn't need to search for it.

Korin, of course, wasn't too happy about someone talking to his little brother that way, but he figured he'd make an exception since Obelis was already striding purposefully toward the altar.

As he approached, Obelis felt his hand drawn unconsciously toward his dagger. He took it from his belt and threw it to the far edge of the clearing. He didn't want to end up murdering one of the wolves with it, that kris had tasted enough blood.

Obelis was only a step away from the altar, and he stopped. He wasn't even sure why he was about to do this, but he felt compelled to. He could see that there was a small bit of blood, sitting at the bottom of the bowl, fresh. It couldn't have been there any longer than they had.

Steeling himself, Obelis assumed the same position he had so many times before, kneeling with his head bowed, almost touching the cold stone. For a moment, everything around him went dark. He could no longer see the wolves, nor the trees, nor the ground. It seemed that the only things that existed were Obelis and the altar. They were simply suspended, and Obelis had lost all sense of time and direction.

His thoughts were consumed by thoughts of murder, unsatisfaction, and vengeance. If the thoughts alone weren't bad enough, each general idea had a memory to match. The most prominent: himself murdering King Turkin. Previously, he'd had no detailed recollection of the incident due his hypnosis, but seeing it now was like a knife being driven into his own heart.

He tried frantically to step down from the altar, but could manage nothing further than standing. Panicked and afraid for his sanity, he leapt into the darkness. The moment he left the altar, his senses returned, but the memories were burned into his mind. The scenes replayed over and over in his mind, and had the wolves not been there to rouse him, he'd surely have gone mad.

Obelis hobbled over to the altar once more, weak and confused. The crimson liquid that had touched the bowl was gone, with no trace to tell that it was ever there. Gradually, he collected himself. He asked himself why he kept being led to these altars, but could come up with no solution. But he had to know why. He couldn't stop now.
 

Timdood3

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So this happened. I think it turned out nicely, wouldn't you agree?

The trio had regrouped back at the Den, and Obelis explained to the wolves the significance of what had happened. He filled in all the gaps in the story he'd told them that morning, every last detail. He was in the process of drafting a map of previously visited altars when a man and a woman, both with leathery skin, burst through the door, unhinging it.

"Found you, wolf." The apparent leader's forked tongue darted quickly in and out of his mouth as he shouted venomously at the elder wolf. His last word was particularly vicious. The wolves bolted upright, flinging their seats across the room. Instantly, the bulky form of Boaris was imposing itself between the two parties.

The innkeeper's voice was guttural, and his tone was none too welcoming. "How many times have I told you three not to start fights in my inn? You know the rules: Anyone fighting in my building gets impaled."

The belligerent basilisk was uninhibited. "Impaled by what? Those twigs you call 'tusks'?"

Before Boaris could respond, Obelis thought it'd be best to diffuse the situation himself. "No. By this." He took the spear from his back and brandished it threateningly.

Boaris glared at Obelis, but did not try to stop him. The female basilisk however, jumped at him and swatted his spear away. From his position under the giant lizard, Obelis could feel huge razor claws piercing his armor and digging into his shoulders. "What are you going to impale me with now, human?"

Korin was in wolf form now, ready to pounce. He recognized these beasts from his last minutes in town. He knew why they were there, but he didn't know why Obelis was so quick to his defense. Ocelot, on the other hand, was standing by, puzzled. He didn't have a clue as to why the basilisks showed up, why his brother was so on edge, or why one of the lizards attacked his new friend.

Although it was painful to do so, Obelis could still move his arms. He reached for the right side of his belt, where his dagger was. As he did so, the claws that were gradually progressing through his armor and into his flesh sunk deeper. Obelis was losing a lot of blood, and with enormous effort he worked his arm between the beast's body and his own and drove the knife upward. The kris found its mark through the soft underbelly of the scaly creature and into its heart. Obelis struggled to rise as the deceased basilisk went limp on top of him.

Seeing the corpse of the lizard, something clicked in Ocelot's mind. He'd seen this before. This was the same sort of scaly creature that he saw dying before. These basilisks were here to avenge their fallen kin by slaying the wolf who ended his life. Instantly, Ocelot was on the attack. He would bring the fight to the lizards before he'd let them touch his brother. He lunged forward with a snarl, aiming to tear the leader's throat out, but neither teeth nor claws could pierce the basilisk's stone skin.

The reptile merely smacked the young wolf away with its heavy tail and threw itself at Korin. Korin pounced as well and the two creatures collided. The lizard was twice the size of the wolf and had the weight to match. Korin didn't stand a chance; he was pinned to the ground just as Obelis had been. Unlike the human, however, Korin had no armor to protect him from the talons of the beast.

Bleeding heavily and on the verge of death, Korin had given up struggling. He accepted that it was time for him to pay for what he'd done. He'd killed out of cold blood. Before he lost consciousness, he muttered two simple words: "I'm sorry." He knew it was too little and too late, but he felt better for saying it, as if an enormous weight had been lifting off of him. No, not lifted. Torn. The basilisk was flying across the room, propelled by a ball of snarling brown fur.
 

Timdood3

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"It's a package deal with these two," Boaris was saying, "You take them in, you take in their past. I couldn't count the number of times the two've stayed here. Every time a different reason."

Obelis was quiet for a moment, connecting bits of information he'd learned about Korin. "I see...He may have omitted the part about Basilisks wanting him dead. He's going to pull through, right?"

Boaris looked his guest straight in the eye, knowing that the outlook was grim. "I couldn't tell you. Em's doing all she can."

As if on cue, a tall, thin woman with pointed ears and long green hair came upstairs. Boaris and Obelis were afraid to take Korin upstairs to be treated, so they'd gone themselves. Ocelot stayed down to see his brother through until the bitter end. "Korin should be fine. I've stopped the bleeding, but he's lost a lot of blood. I'm just glad I'm here to clean his wounds and not the bar."

Boaris was immediately standing and embarcing the dryad who had saved the wolf that he saw as his son. His smile was wide and curled around his tusks in a way that looked more serious than he felt. "Thank you, Em. I knew you'd pull him through. You always do."

Emilia smiled and subtly disengaged herself from the burly man holding her hostage in his arms. "He wouldn't have had a chance if you hadn't intervened. Don't you have rules against violent contact in your bar?"

The barkeep took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck, embarassed. "I...Made an exception."

Led by Emilia, the trio headed downstairs to see the wolves. Ocelot had received only minor bruises, but Korin had gotten severe wounds in each of his shoulders and a large gash across his chest. He was lying on a table, his upper body almost completely bandaged.

Upon seeing the others arrive, Korin propped himself up on his elbow, wincing only slightly. "Thanks, Em. I feel a lot better." Ocelot's reaction was a bit unenthusiastic considering his brother was lucky to even be with all of his limbs; he simply sat and stared.

Emilia simply smiled at the wolf. Adolecents can be so resilient...[.i] "If that will be all, I bid you four farewell, unless I am needed for anything else." She shifted her gaze around the room, looking to everyone for a response.

Emilia started to to turn and Obelis threw out his arm on her shoulder. "Actually, there is something I need help with." The dryad spun around and smiled, pleased that she could still be of service. "Have you ever heard of something called the Redimet?"

At the name, Em's eyes closed and every muscle in her body relaxed, as if she was searching every crevice of her being. Without opening her eyes she asked, "What is it you wish to know?"

Obelis payed no mind to the woman's strange behavior, she had information, and he needed it. "Rituals. Do you know if they do any sort of sacrifices? What are their methods of recruiting? Do they do anything specific with altars?"

Her voice was cool and smooth, as if she was speaking not with her voice, but with her essence. "Sacrifices, yes. They drain the blood of the sacrifices into altars to commune with their godess, Chaurum. As for recruiting: They find someone who has done something wrong, make them feel endebted, and convince them that the Redimet is the road to redemption."

Obelis listened intently to her every word. "And is it? The road to redemption, I mean."

The dryad opened her eys and shook her head. "I can only tell you what is solid fact. That answer varies, and thus I cannot know it. I'm sorry."

Obelis smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Thank you," he said simply, "You have helped me a great deal." Emilia smiled, nodded, and exited the building through the still shattered doorframe.
 
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Timdood3

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The final installment and this thread can finally die in piece.
I will be posting the story in it's entirety to the General Writing Thread.

A week had passed and Korin had made a full recovery, if a little scarred. In the meantime, Obelis had spoken with Boaris and Ocelot about all manner of things. Most of it tribial, they were just passing the time. Obelis had grown fond of the young wolves and dreaded the possibility of leaving them behind. He wanted desperately to take down the Redimet, but just as important to him was the company of the brothers.

The trio set out once more, their destination clear. They were heading to the fourth and final altar. During the time of Korin's recovery, Obelis had drafted a map of Glaend and the surrounding area. The altars he had previously visited were all equidistant from the city walls and at even intervals. If the region was a clock, the previous altars would be at the two, five and eight o'clock positions. Through reasoning, Obelis concluded that it'd be only logical for the fourth and presumably final altar to be at the eleven o'clock position to the northwest of town.

The party passed through town, garnering dirty looks from the people who had all but forgotten what they had done. Well, one of them. No one could forgot the man who murdered Kinf Turkin. As for the others, they were simply Foresters, and that alone was sufficient reason to stare. The group was then faced with the familiar scene of forest, after all, it surrounded the city entirely. They went through the forest unbothered. Which is to say, there was nothing there to bother them. There was no birdsong, no chirping crickets, no anything. It was just them and the sound of their boots crunching the fallen leaves.

The party eventually came upon a clearing. Naturally. They'd reached the destination they'd set out to. But something was missing. Obelis had grown used to the lack of natural sound; it was something else. It was as if he could feel a presence, but nothing was with him but the wolves. That was it! There was nothing! The altar wasn't there! This was clearly where the altar should have been, but why wasn't it there? He remembered when he had struck out at the 'angel' that spoke with him, CHaurum they called it. He'd just been floating there, suspending in time. But even then the altar was there. The altar was the only thing there.

Unconsciously, Obelis reached for his ever present kris and approached the center of the clearing. Unware of himself, he extended his left hand, and grasped the dagger in his right. He felt the blade cut his skin, he felt his hot blood run down his palm. And he felt. He could actually feel again. He looked around incredulously, and saw that nothing was moving. He could move and see and feel, but...Nothing else could. He was left to wonder for minutes until he'd bled enough to allow Chaurum to come down.

"Godess," he said, "I have come to offer you my final sacrifice."

The floating being glared down at him imperiously. "That is good, child, but it is not your final. You're nearing the end of your quest. Soon you'll finally be able to call yourself 'Redeemed.'"

"Tell me. What must I do?"

"Come." For the first time, Obelist saw the ethereal being leave the altar. "I will guide you."

Obelis could not remember the trip, or that he had even left the clearing, but he was standing in the center of town with the Godess and the wolves. There was no one to be seen, and the world around him seemed dull and grey. The only thing he could see in detail was the marble fountain. It was the centerpiece of the city, admired by all of Glaend's inhabitants. The walls of buildings formed a near perfect circle around the fountain, broken only by roads.

The world spun and Obelis saw double. The next thing he knew, he was standing at the edge of the fountain, endler wolf bent over the side of it with a knife at his neck. Obelis could feel the Godess, no. The demon. Pushing him to murder his friend. In the silence, Obelis could hear the knife slice into flesh, hear blood start to drip and mingle with the water of the fountain. He pulled back, resistant, and threw his bleeding companion away from him. As he did so, Ocelot was thrown to him, but he caught the juvenile and restrained the the urge to slice him open.

Obelis turned to where the boy was thrown from and saw her...It. The beatiful being that had once talked to him so sweetly had been replaced by a snarling beast. It was hunched over and bipedal. Long talons protruded from its fingertips, and odd tufts sprung haphazardly from its body. Without hesitation, Obelis charged. He didn't bother to change his weapon, he knew the kris would suffice. The demon lashed out at him, and caught him with its claws, leaving deeps gashes. But it got in no further hits. Obelis tackled it to the ground and plunged his knife mercilessly into it. The throat, the chest, the shoulder, he didn't bother aiming, he was just stabbing.

The world around him cleared. Slowly, he heard screams rising in volume, as if his ears had been covered. He saw fleeing people come into focus. The air smelled metallic and think with the stench of blood. The fountain in the center of town: Running red. Those who weren't running at top speed away from the murderer going on a killing spree in the center of town were lying lifeless of the ground, they couldn't run fast enough. Obelis recognized some of the faces lying still. Among them: Korin. Ocelot. Emelia. In fact, Emelia was lying under him, mutilated. He realized in horror that he'd not been redeeming himself, but playing himself into the hands of a demon.

As he saw it, he had only one option. He clenched his dagger in both hands, pointing the blade towards himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself as the dagger found its mark. Obelis fell as the crimson stream flowed steadily from his neck.

A familiar voice spoke to him. "Welcome. You've done well."
 
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