(no subject)
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Singularity Syndrome
Title: Quest
Challenge: Vanilla #14 (around the campfire)
Extras/Toppings: Chopped Nuts
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1617
Summary: A young assassin and his journey to find a magical sword.
Notes: ...I finally drag myself away from playing Skyrim for a few days and this is what happens... :/
Carmine slowly drew his twin daggers as he peeked around the corner. He was pretty proud of himself; the scrawny apprentice mage that he had run into earlier didn't want to talk, but Carmine had choked the information out of him. That is, before stringing him up in a tree for the trolls to deal with after nightfall.
The assassin exhaled quietly before approaching his target. The silver-haired mage was standing over a table with his back turned to Carmine. This was probably for the best, considering this particular mage had developed a reputation for destroying towns and slaughtering everyone he came across. Carmine raised his daggers, slunk up behind the mage...and froze. Not of his own accord, of course-giving up this opportunity wasn't his style. He felt like something was holding his limbs in place, and he couldn't break away.
The mage turned around and adjusted his glasses. “Oh,” he said, surprised. “You're a new one. Most of the other assassins tend to be a lot louder, kicking down the door and shouting and such. Do you know how hard it is to fix a door in an ancient tower? I mean, honestly, the nerve of some people, right?”
“...The hell did you do to me?” Carmine asked, struggling against the invisible bonds. “Let me go, you...abomination!”
The mage gasped. “Wow, really?” he asked. “I mean, I've had people call me a lot of things, but 'abomination'? That...well, actually, that has a lovely ring to it. 'Alain Fontanus, genius necromancer and abomination.' Hmm...I like it. Anyway, I'm a little busy, so...” Alain plucked the daggers from Carmine's hands and neatly pushed them into the assassin's chest cavity.
-load game-
Carmine blinked and looked up at the night sky. “Aw, dammit, you mean the last time I saved was all the way back here?” he complained to no one in particular.
There was a loud thump a few feet away as the apprentice mage from earlier landed heavily on his front. Carmine sighed and lifted the mage up by the front of his torn robes. “The abandoned tower to the northwest, right?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” the mage stammered, brushing a lock of thin brown hair out of his eye as Carmine let him go. “But my master is very powerful, and he'll kill-ugh!”
Carmine rolled his eyes as the boy crumpled to the ground. “Don't care,” he muttered, retrieving his crossbow bolt. The kid was just lucky he had all those potions on him. Carmine took a few and stuck them in his inventory, ignoring the apprentice's protests.
A few minutes later, the assassin found himself outside the old tower. “Okay,” he mumbled to himself. “I can just get the sword now, and come back for the mage in a few levels. That's not too bad.”
Content with his new plan, Carmine quietly opened the door and turned left instead of right. He walked down a short set of stairs and smiled as the sword came into view. It was just sitting out in the open, on a table in an otherwise empty room.
“These mages are so dumb,” Carmine said, walking straight into the room and picking up the sword. “Maybe if they weren't so full of themselves, they'd think a little bit...ahead...”
The hair on Carmine's arms stood straight up, and the room began to get warm. He looked around and noticed the glowing runes on the floor...about three seconds too late.
-load game-
Carmine shuddered as he edged his body along the wall, remembering the feeling of being completely incinerated by the lightning trap. It hadn't been pleasant. He really should have seen it coming, and he wasn't too keen on repeating the experience.
He carefully slid the sword off of the table and slunk out of the room, sighing in relief. Great, now all he had to do was get back to the town for his reward. It hadn't been too hard; he just had to stop and examine everything.
Carmine pushed open the front door and froze (on his own this time) as he heard the sound of about ten blades unsheathing. “Aww, didn't you want to stick around and chat for a bit?” a familiar voice asked.
He turned around and hung his head, not even wanting to look at the group of undead thieves that backed Alain. The mage held his hand out expectantly, and Carmine gave him the sword. There wasn't much use in fighting now.
“I spent...minutes making this,” Alain said. “Do you know how devastated I'd be if I lost it?”
“Wait, minutes?” Carmine's jaw dropped. “I still can't create anything better than a Drywall Shield! What level are you?”
“You don't want to know,” Alain said smugly. “But anyway, I've got a capital city to terrorize, so...”
-load game-
Carmine scowled and stared at his campfire, rubbing at the spot on his neck where Alain had stabbed him (before raising his body as part of a small undead army) before he reloaded. It was becoming fairly clear that he'd have to take Alain out before he went after the sword.
A white-haired man in heavy armor walked up to the fire and sat down. “Wow, you're still all the way back here? I did this quest a week ago.”
“Hey, shut up,” Carmine growled, pouting. “Some of us have social lives.”
The man smirked. “I don't think hitting on everyone in sight counts.”
“Fuck you, Kash.”
“Not now, you've got a mage to kill.” Kashmir picked up a stick and started drawing in the dirt. “Go in through the bedroom window and look at the table. Use what you find to blackmail him into giving you the sword.”
“No!” the apprentice mage shouted from the tree.
Kashmir chuckled. “He knows.”
“No, please...” The kid looked to be near tears.
About an hour later, Carmine hoisted himself into the top of the tower and fell to the floor, panting. He slowly got up and took the small journal off of the bedside table. What could possibly be in here that could get me that sword? he thought, flipping through the book. He almost immediately saw what Kashmir was talking about.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, walking out of the room. This was...interesting.
After getting the sword and walking out of the room, Carmine rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on!”
Alain sighed. “Honestly, how many times are you going to try this?”
“I'm done.”
“Good. Now if you'll just give me-“
“I'm not giving you shit.”
Alain raised an eyebrow. “Well, you don't have to, but it would probably be better for you if you did.”
“And it would probably be better for you if you got out of the way.” Carmine smiled. “Unless, of course, you want everyone in the world to know that you're having your way with your apprentice.”
“Really?” Alain laughed. “Big deal! What's that got to do with anything?”
“Well, it really wouldn't, unless it also got out that your apprentice was the king's lost son...you know, the one that was kidnapped a few years ago?”
Alain's face paled. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” he hissed. The air around him crackled with static electricity.
“I think you do,” Carmine said, smiling. “I also think you know that you'd still be no match for the court mages if you were ever found out.”
“He came to me, dammit!” Alain's voice echoed through the tower. “I didn't kidnap anyone.”
“The king doesn't know that, though.”
Alain smiled, slowly and evilly. “And just what makes you think you're getting out of here with that information?” he asked.
“Well, the fact that your little friend is still hanging in a tree along the main road, mainly,” Carmine answered. “And when the sun comes up, someone's bound to recognize him and go for for that reward they're offering in town.”
“He would never say anything.”
“Wanna bet? The last thing he probably wants is for his old-fashioned parents-oh, and the girl he's supposed to marry-to know that he willingly ran off with a mage to not only sleep with, but to learn to raise fucking zombies as well. Yeah, that'll go over smoothly for everyone involved.”
Alain was quiet for a moment before looking away. “Bring Errol back and you can keep the damn sword. But if you say one word to anyone, I will tear you apart and do things to your soul that will make demons weep.”
Carmine laughed. “Oh, Errol? He has a name now? And here I thought he was just a random redshirt-“
-load game-
“Okay, I may have gone a bit far with the redshirt comment,” Carmine said, wincing as he finished the last of the antidotes in his inventory.
“I think that's a pretty safe assumption,” Kashmir said, offering up a few of his own antidotes. “You don't look nearly as...peely...anymore.”
“I got the sword though.”
“True. He's probably going to remember this, however.”
Carmine sighed. “You're right,” he said. “And I still have to go back there for the bounty.”
Kashmir smirked. “...So are you going to rat him out?” he asked.
“Fuck yeah, I'm ratting him out! Do you know how much gold the king's offering?” Carmine looked around and lowered his voice. “Just...maybe in about fifteen levels or so.”
Story: Singularity Syndrome
Title: Quest
Challenge: Vanilla #14 (around the campfire)
Extras/Toppings: Chopped Nuts
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1617
Summary: A young assassin and his journey to find a magical sword.
Notes: ...I finally drag myself away from playing Skyrim for a few days and this is what happens... :/
Carmine slowly drew his twin daggers as he peeked around the corner. He was pretty proud of himself; the scrawny apprentice mage that he had run into earlier didn't want to talk, but Carmine had choked the information out of him. That is, before stringing him up in a tree for the trolls to deal with after nightfall.
The assassin exhaled quietly before approaching his target. The silver-haired mage was standing over a table with his back turned to Carmine. This was probably for the best, considering this particular mage had developed a reputation for destroying towns and slaughtering everyone he came across. Carmine raised his daggers, slunk up behind the mage...and froze. Not of his own accord, of course-giving up this opportunity wasn't his style. He felt like something was holding his limbs in place, and he couldn't break away.
The mage turned around and adjusted his glasses. “Oh,” he said, surprised. “You're a new one. Most of the other assassins tend to be a lot louder, kicking down the door and shouting and such. Do you know how hard it is to fix a door in an ancient tower? I mean, honestly, the nerve of some people, right?”
“...The hell did you do to me?” Carmine asked, struggling against the invisible bonds. “Let me go, you...abomination!”
The mage gasped. “Wow, really?” he asked. “I mean, I've had people call me a lot of things, but 'abomination'? That...well, actually, that has a lovely ring to it. 'Alain Fontanus, genius necromancer and abomination.' Hmm...I like it. Anyway, I'm a little busy, so...” Alain plucked the daggers from Carmine's hands and neatly pushed them into the assassin's chest cavity.
-load game-
Carmine blinked and looked up at the night sky. “Aw, dammit, you mean the last time I saved was all the way back here?” he complained to no one in particular.
There was a loud thump a few feet away as the apprentice mage from earlier landed heavily on his front. Carmine sighed and lifted the mage up by the front of his torn robes. “The abandoned tower to the northwest, right?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” the mage stammered, brushing a lock of thin brown hair out of his eye as Carmine let him go. “But my master is very powerful, and he'll kill-ugh!”
Carmine rolled his eyes as the boy crumpled to the ground. “Don't care,” he muttered, retrieving his crossbow bolt. The kid was just lucky he had all those potions on him. Carmine took a few and stuck them in his inventory, ignoring the apprentice's protests.
A few minutes later, the assassin found himself outside the old tower. “Okay,” he mumbled to himself. “I can just get the sword now, and come back for the mage in a few levels. That's not too bad.”
Content with his new plan, Carmine quietly opened the door and turned left instead of right. He walked down a short set of stairs and smiled as the sword came into view. It was just sitting out in the open, on a table in an otherwise empty room.
“These mages are so dumb,” Carmine said, walking straight into the room and picking up the sword. “Maybe if they weren't so full of themselves, they'd think a little bit...ahead...”
The hair on Carmine's arms stood straight up, and the room began to get warm. He looked around and noticed the glowing runes on the floor...about three seconds too late.
-load game-
Carmine shuddered as he edged his body along the wall, remembering the feeling of being completely incinerated by the lightning trap. It hadn't been pleasant. He really should have seen it coming, and he wasn't too keen on repeating the experience.
He carefully slid the sword off of the table and slunk out of the room, sighing in relief. Great, now all he had to do was get back to the town for his reward. It hadn't been too hard; he just had to stop and examine everything.
Carmine pushed open the front door and froze (on his own this time) as he heard the sound of about ten blades unsheathing. “Aww, didn't you want to stick around and chat for a bit?” a familiar voice asked.
He turned around and hung his head, not even wanting to look at the group of undead thieves that backed Alain. The mage held his hand out expectantly, and Carmine gave him the sword. There wasn't much use in fighting now.
“I spent...minutes making this,” Alain said. “Do you know how devastated I'd be if I lost it?”
“Wait, minutes?” Carmine's jaw dropped. “I still can't create anything better than a Drywall Shield! What level are you?”
“You don't want to know,” Alain said smugly. “But anyway, I've got a capital city to terrorize, so...”
-load game-
Carmine scowled and stared at his campfire, rubbing at the spot on his neck where Alain had stabbed him (before raising his body as part of a small undead army) before he reloaded. It was becoming fairly clear that he'd have to take Alain out before he went after the sword.
A white-haired man in heavy armor walked up to the fire and sat down. “Wow, you're still all the way back here? I did this quest a week ago.”
“Hey, shut up,” Carmine growled, pouting. “Some of us have social lives.”
The man smirked. “I don't think hitting on everyone in sight counts.”
“Fuck you, Kash.”
“Not now, you've got a mage to kill.” Kashmir picked up a stick and started drawing in the dirt. “Go in through the bedroom window and look at the table. Use what you find to blackmail him into giving you the sword.”
“No!” the apprentice mage shouted from the tree.
Kashmir chuckled. “He knows.”
“No, please...” The kid looked to be near tears.
About an hour later, Carmine hoisted himself into the top of the tower and fell to the floor, panting. He slowly got up and took the small journal off of the bedside table. What could possibly be in here that could get me that sword? he thought, flipping through the book. He almost immediately saw what Kashmir was talking about.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, walking out of the room. This was...interesting.
After getting the sword and walking out of the room, Carmine rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on!”
Alain sighed. “Honestly, how many times are you going to try this?”
“I'm done.”
“Good. Now if you'll just give me-“
“I'm not giving you shit.”
Alain raised an eyebrow. “Well, you don't have to, but it would probably be better for you if you did.”
“And it would probably be better for you if you got out of the way.” Carmine smiled. “Unless, of course, you want everyone in the world to know that you're having your way with your apprentice.”
“Really?” Alain laughed. “Big deal! What's that got to do with anything?”
“Well, it really wouldn't, unless it also got out that your apprentice was the king's lost son...you know, the one that was kidnapped a few years ago?”
Alain's face paled. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” he hissed. The air around him crackled with static electricity.
“I think you do,” Carmine said, smiling. “I also think you know that you'd still be no match for the court mages if you were ever found out.”
“He came to me, dammit!” Alain's voice echoed through the tower. “I didn't kidnap anyone.”
“The king doesn't know that, though.”
Alain smiled, slowly and evilly. “And just what makes you think you're getting out of here with that information?” he asked.
“Well, the fact that your little friend is still hanging in a tree along the main road, mainly,” Carmine answered. “And when the sun comes up, someone's bound to recognize him and go for for that reward they're offering in town.”
“He would never say anything.”
“Wanna bet? The last thing he probably wants is for his old-fashioned parents-oh, and the girl he's supposed to marry-to know that he willingly ran off with a mage to not only sleep with, but to learn to raise fucking zombies as well. Yeah, that'll go over smoothly for everyone involved.”
Alain was quiet for a moment before looking away. “Bring Errol back and you can keep the damn sword. But if you say one word to anyone, I will tear you apart and do things to your soul that will make demons weep.”
Carmine laughed. “Oh, Errol? He has a name now? And here I thought he was just a random redshirt-“
-load game-
“Okay, I may have gone a bit far with the redshirt comment,” Carmine said, wincing as he finished the last of the antidotes in his inventory.
“I think that's a pretty safe assumption,” Kashmir said, offering up a few of his own antidotes. “You don't look nearly as...peely...anymore.”
“I got the sword though.”
“True. He's probably going to remember this, however.”
Carmine sighed. “You're right,” he said. “And I still have to go back there for the bounty.”
Kashmir smirked. “...So are you going to rat him out?” he asked.
“Fuck yeah, I'm ratting him out! Do you know how much gold the king's offering?” Carmine looked around and lowered his voice. “Just...maybe in about fifteen levels or so.”