Slipstream The
Honour And The Road
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OOC: Very minor VP spoilers.
---
The two Einherjar were running
hard in the direction that the shout had come from, only
stopping to deal with the monsters that were growing thicker
and thicker around the area in response to some unseen call.
Finally they saw what was assumed to be the source of the
call, a group of people who all looked ready to call Artolian
blood-feud on each other.
"That... must be them..."
Jun panted out, coming to a halt. "So is there anything we can
do... to end this senseless conflict?"
No response.
The samurai looked to his side; Arngrim was standing stock
still, his expression frozen in a look of fear and his eyes
glazed. Jun had never seen anyone look that bad before,
much less the fearless mercenary.
"Hey, Arngrim, are
you okay?"
***
The darkness surrounded him,
enveloped him, left him abandoned in a endless wasteland of
nothingness without sight, without smell, without touch. In
the far distance he could hear the slow, ponderous beating of
a heart so vast it defied all imagination, overwhelming his
body in a pulsating rhythm of chaos. Faint flickers of violet
light haunted the edges of what he still thought of his
vision, carrying memories and events beyond comprehension into
his mind.
"I don't like having to do this to you," a
voice said out of the void, "but the energies being wrought
here aren't enough for our purposes. We created this
tournament for conflict and chaos, and what do you people do?
You go to a wedding!" The mental voice was apologetic,
but irresistable.
Who are you? What are you doing to
me? Arngrim 'shouted', assured even in his fear that the
entity could hear his cries. The purple lights were echoing
with the stranger's voice, resonating with his every word.
"I am, shall we say, just a messenger, but I am also
seeking a way to return home, just as you are. And this is
called possession - I'm sure you're familiar with it after
your experiences with the vampire lord Brahms."
Arngrim's 'blood' froze. He hadn't told anyone,
not even his brother Roland, about what the demon lord had
done to him, what he had bargained in return for his brother's
life. He still remembered the games, the chaos, the joy of
knowledge and the pain of its meaning. And in this place,
memories were boiling up that even he hadn't dared to face
before - the city of Dipan, the black-clad Valkyrie, and the
things he had done in the service of the gods before.
"You'll make an excellent vessel for this purpose,
Arngrim - you are strong, highly skilled, and possess a
demonic strength within you from the taint that Brahms left
upon your soul." The voice paused to consider something. "Too,
the paths within your mind which were forced open once before
are easier for one such as I to travel."
Arngrim
couldn't even think now. The fear, pain and memories were
blocking everything out.
"I even believe you said,"
the voice continued, "that you swore upon your sword that you
and your friends would be remembered." The voice laughed
faintly. "Trust me on this, you at least will be."
The
darkness took him. He was falling... falling so very
far...
***
"Arngrim?"
The
mercenary's face and posture return to normal, although there
was something about his eyes that still didn't seem right. He
turned to the samurai, grinning at him.
"Sure, sure,
what could be wrong?"
"Uh, nothing..." Jun stammered
in reply.
"Not good. Because not enough is
wrong, in this tournament where people should be fighting to
the death. The mercenary clenched his broadsword in both hands
and looked over the fields at the growing inferno. "Let's make
things more interesting."
---
OOC: For
those of you who didn't figure it out, Arngrim is now being
possessed by Keir. My creative juices are running dry - I know
I'm not gonna survive the round, so do what ever you like with
Arngrim as long as it's chaotic.
---
"Are you just a blade of grass,
to be blown in the wind?"
Last edited by Slipstream on 08-08-2001
at 10:32 PM |