more pre-RaT's Story
This is the beginning of the main storyline.
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Fall 1253
This is OLD and sooo not how I want the story proper to start anymore. This is getting more like it.
A path, which was little more than the wearing away of debris by passing feet, wound its way through the woods. A lone rider made her way along this path, ducking her head occasionally to avoid a low hanging branch from one of the trees that lined its sides. She carried in one hand the lead for a second horse, which followed steadily behind her, bearing what few provisions she had thought necessary for her trip.
The trail spilled out into a rough clearing, at the center of which stood a positively ancient temple. Tendrils of ivy weaved their way across its walls, trained to neatly skirt its windows and the sturdy wooden doors at its front.
Masakari slid from the back of her mount and tethered both horses to a tree at the edge of the clearing. She made her way to the entrance, noticing as she approached, that, though the undergrowth encroached upon the building from all other sides, a space had been carved out along one for a small garden. The ground was laid with neat rows of plants, which grew unhindered by the weeds and brambles that carpeted the forest floor.
She paused a moment to straighten the wrinkles and pick a few nettles from her heavy traveling cloak before crossing the threshold. The grounds may no longer be of use to the citizens, but there was no sense in offending the lingering presence of the deities.
It looked much like any other temple in any other village, though she was not sure why she had expected it to be much different. Perhaps she had expected its use as residence to supersede the fact that it was built to pay homage to the gods. The wide double door opened on the familiar round chamber, lit by the glow of the sinking sun through the series of windows set along the base of the steeply angled roof.
Masakari made her way to the central slab where the statue of the Goddess presided. She solemnly drew her sword and knelt before the figure, laying the naked blade first across her knees and then placing it on the floor before the stone. She uttered a distracted prayer to the Goddess, as her eyes scanned the altar. Though the villagers had informed her the shrines were abandoned as such, an offering of the late crimson wildflowers, which speckled the forest floor, had been laid at the statue’s base. Masakari searched her person for something suitable to lay beside them. Finding nothing, she offered another prayer asking that the Goddess forgive her before retrieving her blade.
She rose, eyeing the open door to the side, which typically led to the residence of the guardian of the shrines, hoping her target would emerge, wondering if she might have to seek him out, before continuing her tribute. She proceeded to the pair of shrines on her left. The twin forms of fire and water, cast in stone, regarded her approach from atop the pedestals of their shrines. She bowed her head and spoke the words of tribute, long ago committed to memory, more of habit than conviction as her thoughts were drawn to her mission and the whereabouts of its subject. Having finished her salute to the fire goddess, she repeated the process before the shrine of her own patron goddess.
She strode across the room to the paired shrines of earth and air, her boots striking heavily against the weathered planks of the floor. A head suddenly appeared in the darkened doorway as the temple’s resident peered into the chamber. Deep blue eyes, set amidst pale, thin features, studied her curiously. Finding herself confronted by the one she had come to meet, Masakari fumbled for the words to phrase a greeting. The only thought that filled her at the moment was astonishment that one with such a reputation should be so young. She doubted the man could be much older than she.
He gave her no time to chase the carefully prepared speech that fled her mind. “I'll be with you in a moment,” he assured her before ducking back into his chambers.
She continued in her rituals, wondering at her sudden hesitancy to impart her message now that she had found her audience. The whole matter had seemed far easier when discussed in her master’s chambers. Informing a stranger that she had more of an inkling as to his fate than he seemed a daunting task enough. Now that stranger had a face; the face of one barely more than a boy at that.
Her procession through the temple ended at the rear before the altar of the life goddess. She stopped short, brought swiftly out of her musings and back to the world at hand by the sight of a sixth shrine. The statue was rough hewn and of a different stone than the rest. The implication was unmistakable, but such a thing was unheard of, at least in decent society. The locals had informed her the man was a bit odd, but defiling the house of the Goddess with a shrine to death was beyond mere eccentricity.
The echo of footsteps alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Masakari spun to face her host. The man stood a full head taller than she. Grey robes, threadbare and frayed, hung tent-like over his thin frame. Those dark blue eyes she had noticed before cast her a scrutinizing stare from beneath the wayward strands of straw-colored hair that escaped the confines which held the rest to a narrow trail over his back. She regarded him a moment before glancing back at the shrine, still too disturbed by its discovery to find proper words.
“That’s been here much longer than I have, and I hope it'll be here long after I'm gone,” he said, calmly taking in her apprehension.
“But-” she started, and immediately cursed herself inwardly. What a most unladylike way to begin what was supposed to be an important diplomatic mission.
“My master taught me it’s better to acknowledge our adversaries than deny them,” he said. “But I doubt that‘s what you‘re here for. Now, may I help you?”
Masakari found it odd to force into place the composure that generally seemed naturally to do her bidding. “I have come seeking Rune,” she said.
“And you’ve found him. How may I be of assistance? Pardon my saying so, but you look perfectly healthy to me.”
“I am not here for myself.”
“There‘s someone with you…?” He scanned the obviously empty room in confusion. “In town… or…?”
“No,” she said hastily. “It is not your services that bring me here. It is you I am after. Forgive me for not properly introducing myself.” She raised her hand to the silver five-pointed star of the Knighthood at her breast in salute. “Lady Masakari Romilinas Burnoire of Aquelene. I come, though unofficially, as a representative of the Knighthood at the behest of Headmistress Kinari Deltrene”
His eyes narrowed and, taking a step back from her, he folded his arms over his chest. “And just what do the Knights want with a simple backwoods healer like me?”
“You are too modest,” she said. “I have heard tell of your powers.”
“You heard wrong,” he said quickly, turning to avoid further eye contact.
“Those you have healed claim you perform miracles,” she persisted.
“I’m a medic, My Lady,” he insisted with a dismissive wave. ”Perhaps a very good one, but, I swear, that‘s all.”
“They say you need to but lay your hands on those that other healers had given up for dead.”
Rune shrugged. “You save a few lives and see what they say about you.”
“I do not think I am mistaken.”
“Suppose I’ve really got these powers you seem to think I do, Lady…“ He returned his gaze to her, groping for her name.
“Masakari will do,” she offered.
“Well then, what, Lady Masakari, would you do with me?”
“Demons have been sighted; an incident which has become more frequent as of late. I have seen them myself.” She paused, expecting another attempt to discredit her. His look was skeptical, but he made to move to stop her. “Prophecy points to the arrival of something far more sinister. There is indication as well that those touched by the gods will be the ones to save us from it.”
“And you think that healing people makes me fit to battle demons?”
“I think it appropriate to believe you are touched by the gods.”
Whatever response he intended to give never made it to his lips as, behind them, the doors flew open and a mousy-haired boy, perhaps in his early teens made a frantic entrance to the temple. “Rune!” he called, struggling to find the breath to speak. “Rune, we need your help!”
Rune rushed to meet the boy, catching him as he stumbled over the tattered hem of his battered and mud-covered cloak. “What is it, Kurt?” he asked, helping to right him.
“A monster!” the boy said. “It came out of the wood. And Owen- you’ve got to help him!”
“What sort of monster?” Masakari started, but the other two were ignoring her.
Rune pushed past her, ducking back through the doorway to his chambers to retrieve a small knapsack. “Take me to him,” he said, throwing the bag over his shoulder. Masakari followed as the two hurried out the door.
“Take my horse,” she offered, quickly loosing both animals’ tethers. Rune thanked her and took the reigns from her hand. She slipped the packs from the other horse’s back. Masakari mounted the pack horse and lifted the boy, seating him in front of her. He pointed back towards town and they set off down the path.
As they neared the edge of the woods, Kurt pointed into the trees and Rune and Masakari steered their horses in the direction he indicated. The brush was sparse enough to allow them passage among the trees and they continued a fair distance from the path before their objective came into view.
Three boys, near the same age as Kurt, stood guard over a fourth who lay sprawled on the ground each holding a branch like a weapon and staring into the trees about them. All three started nervously, tightening their grips on their makeshift weapons, as the riders approached.
Careful not to dislodge the boy, Masakari leapt from the horse’s back as they reached the others. Rune clumsily drew his mount to a stop before making an awkward dismount and Kurt slid from his seat last. At sight of Rune, the boys eased a bit, making room for him to reach their injured friend.
Rune knelt to examine the boy, while Masakari made her own assessment from over his shoulder. The child was clearly the youngest of the group, perhaps by several years. He lay on his back in the undergrowth, biting his lip to fight the urge to cry out. His left leg was badly broken and soaked with blood that flowed from a set of deep clawlike gashes. Rune set to work, tearing the fabric of his pants away from the wound.
“What happened here?” Masakari demanded of the remaining boys.
“Worry about that later,“ Rune snapped. “Let me take care of him first.”
“If it comes back…”
Eyeing the wound, Rune quickly discarded the knapsack and offered Owen a hand. “This is going to hurt,” he said. “Squeeze my hand.” Meekly, the boy obliged.
“What did this to him?” Masakari continued to press the others. They eyed her apprehensively, saying nothing.
“It’s alright,” Rune assured them, “She’s a knight. She’s here to help.”
At the mention of her being a knight, the boys’ expressions turned to awe. “It was the strangest thing I ever saw,” said one. “It was like a big dog, but its head was just a skull with no eyes.”
“And big fangs,” said another.
“And claws,” added the third.
“Ready?” Rune asked Owen. The boy gave an anxious nod, gripping the man’s hand tightly.
“It looked like a dead thing,” the second boy said. “But it was walking just like anything.”
Owen yelped and everyone’s attention was drawn to him. Rune, still holding his hand in one of his own, had now placed his other hand on the boy’s leg just above the wound. Masakari thought she must have imagined it, and blinked to try to dispel the image, but she swore that, just for an instant, a halo flickered around the two. The damaged leg convulsed and slowly twisted itself back into shape and the wounds closed and mended themselves right before her eyes. She had heard the man worked miracles, but this was far beyond anything she had even imagined. Though the others responded with looks of discomfort or sympathy, she was certain she was the only one truly surprised.
A loud noise from the brush startled them all. The boys gripped their sticks like cudgels, spinning nervously in the direction from which it had come. Masakari drew her sword. A beast perhaps three feet high and four long, with the haunches of a dog and a head like the skull of a bear laced with drooping grey flesh, came leaping from the bushes, viciously bearing a mouthful of jagged teeth.
Masakari quickly stepped in front of the boys, halting the demon’s advance with her sword. A sharp blow to the chest with the flat of her blade sent the monster tumbling to the ground. It righted itself almost before it landed and pounced again. Masakari struck again, cleaving its head from its shoulders. The demon fell at her feet in a disjointed shower of loose flesh and bones. Kicking the skull across the ground, she sheathed her blade.
Rune rose, taking the branch from one of the boys’ hands. He prodded the crumpled remains of the demon. A loud hiss and a pungent odor escaped the pile as the stick disturbed it. Rune let the branch fall and was violently ill.
Masakari studied Owen as she waited for Rune to regain his composure. The boy’s leg bore the scars of a freshly healed wound, but he was whole. “You do not expect me to believe that was anything but magic,” she said sternly, when Rune had recovered.
“No,” he conceded. “I guess not. And I suppose that,” he indicated the jumbled pile with a grimace, “was a demon?”
She nodded. “So will you hear me out?”
“I don’t see as I have much choice,” he said.
“Rune’s not in trouble, is he?” Owen asked.
“If you plan on doing anything to him…” one of the others warned.
“Not at all,” she said.
“Let’s get them home,” Rune said. “Then we can talk.”
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Fall 1253
This is OLD and sooo not how I want the story proper to start anymore. This is getting more like it.
A path, which was little more than the wearing away of debris by passing feet, wound its way through the woods. A lone rider made her way along this path, ducking her head occasionally to avoid a low hanging branch from one of the trees that lined its sides. She carried in one hand the lead for a second horse, which followed steadily behind her, bearing what few provisions she had thought necessary for her trip.
The trail spilled out into a rough clearing, at the center of which stood a positively ancient temple. Tendrils of ivy weaved their way across its walls, trained to neatly skirt its windows and the sturdy wooden doors at its front.
Masakari slid from the back of her mount and tethered both horses to a tree at the edge of the clearing. She made her way to the entrance, noticing as she approached, that, though the undergrowth encroached upon the building from all other sides, a space had been carved out along one for a small garden. The ground was laid with neat rows of plants, which grew unhindered by the weeds and brambles that carpeted the forest floor.
She paused a moment to straighten the wrinkles and pick a few nettles from her heavy traveling cloak before crossing the threshold. The grounds may no longer be of use to the citizens, but there was no sense in offending the lingering presence of the deities.
It looked much like any other temple in any other village, though she was not sure why she had expected it to be much different. Perhaps she had expected its use as residence to supersede the fact that it was built to pay homage to the gods. The wide double door opened on the familiar round chamber, lit by the glow of the sinking sun through the series of windows set along the base of the steeply angled roof.
Masakari made her way to the central slab where the statue of the Goddess presided. She solemnly drew her sword and knelt before the figure, laying the naked blade first across her knees and then placing it on the floor before the stone. She uttered a distracted prayer to the Goddess, as her eyes scanned the altar. Though the villagers had informed her the shrines were abandoned as such, an offering of the late crimson wildflowers, which speckled the forest floor, had been laid at the statue’s base. Masakari searched her person for something suitable to lay beside them. Finding nothing, she offered another prayer asking that the Goddess forgive her before retrieving her blade.
She rose, eyeing the open door to the side, which typically led to the residence of the guardian of the shrines, hoping her target would emerge, wondering if she might have to seek him out, before continuing her tribute. She proceeded to the pair of shrines on her left. The twin forms of fire and water, cast in stone, regarded her approach from atop the pedestals of their shrines. She bowed her head and spoke the words of tribute, long ago committed to memory, more of habit than conviction as her thoughts were drawn to her mission and the whereabouts of its subject. Having finished her salute to the fire goddess, she repeated the process before the shrine of her own patron goddess.
She strode across the room to the paired shrines of earth and air, her boots striking heavily against the weathered planks of the floor. A head suddenly appeared in the darkened doorway as the temple’s resident peered into the chamber. Deep blue eyes, set amidst pale, thin features, studied her curiously. Finding herself confronted by the one she had come to meet, Masakari fumbled for the words to phrase a greeting. The only thought that filled her at the moment was astonishment that one with such a reputation should be so young. She doubted the man could be much older than she.
He gave her no time to chase the carefully prepared speech that fled her mind. “I'll be with you in a moment,” he assured her before ducking back into his chambers.
She continued in her rituals, wondering at her sudden hesitancy to impart her message now that she had found her audience. The whole matter had seemed far easier when discussed in her master’s chambers. Informing a stranger that she had more of an inkling as to his fate than he seemed a daunting task enough. Now that stranger had a face; the face of one barely more than a boy at that.
Her procession through the temple ended at the rear before the altar of the life goddess. She stopped short, brought swiftly out of her musings and back to the world at hand by the sight of a sixth shrine. The statue was rough hewn and of a different stone than the rest. The implication was unmistakable, but such a thing was unheard of, at least in decent society. The locals had informed her the man was a bit odd, but defiling the house of the Goddess with a shrine to death was beyond mere eccentricity.
The echo of footsteps alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Masakari spun to face her host. The man stood a full head taller than she. Grey robes, threadbare and frayed, hung tent-like over his thin frame. Those dark blue eyes she had noticed before cast her a scrutinizing stare from beneath the wayward strands of straw-colored hair that escaped the confines which held the rest to a narrow trail over his back. She regarded him a moment before glancing back at the shrine, still too disturbed by its discovery to find proper words.
“That’s been here much longer than I have, and I hope it'll be here long after I'm gone,” he said, calmly taking in her apprehension.
“But-” she started, and immediately cursed herself inwardly. What a most unladylike way to begin what was supposed to be an important diplomatic mission.
“My master taught me it’s better to acknowledge our adversaries than deny them,” he said. “But I doubt that‘s what you‘re here for. Now, may I help you?”
Masakari found it odd to force into place the composure that generally seemed naturally to do her bidding. “I have come seeking Rune,” she said.
“And you’ve found him. How may I be of assistance? Pardon my saying so, but you look perfectly healthy to me.”
“I am not here for myself.”
“There‘s someone with you…?” He scanned the obviously empty room in confusion. “In town… or…?”
“No,” she said hastily. “It is not your services that bring me here. It is you I am after. Forgive me for not properly introducing myself.” She raised her hand to the silver five-pointed star of the Knighthood at her breast in salute. “Lady Masakari Romilinas Burnoire of Aquelene. I come, though unofficially, as a representative of the Knighthood at the behest of Headmistress Kinari Deltrene”
His eyes narrowed and, taking a step back from her, he folded his arms over his chest. “And just what do the Knights want with a simple backwoods healer like me?”
“You are too modest,” she said. “I have heard tell of your powers.”
“You heard wrong,” he said quickly, turning to avoid further eye contact.
“Those you have healed claim you perform miracles,” she persisted.
“I’m a medic, My Lady,” he insisted with a dismissive wave. ”Perhaps a very good one, but, I swear, that‘s all.”
“They say you need to but lay your hands on those that other healers had given up for dead.”
Rune shrugged. “You save a few lives and see what they say about you.”
“I do not think I am mistaken.”
“Suppose I’ve really got these powers you seem to think I do, Lady…“ He returned his gaze to her, groping for her name.
“Masakari will do,” she offered.
“Well then, what, Lady Masakari, would you do with me?”
“Demons have been sighted; an incident which has become more frequent as of late. I have seen them myself.” She paused, expecting another attempt to discredit her. His look was skeptical, but he made to move to stop her. “Prophecy points to the arrival of something far more sinister. There is indication as well that those touched by the gods will be the ones to save us from it.”
“And you think that healing people makes me fit to battle demons?”
“I think it appropriate to believe you are touched by the gods.”
Whatever response he intended to give never made it to his lips as, behind them, the doors flew open and a mousy-haired boy, perhaps in his early teens made a frantic entrance to the temple. “Rune!” he called, struggling to find the breath to speak. “Rune, we need your help!”
Rune rushed to meet the boy, catching him as he stumbled over the tattered hem of his battered and mud-covered cloak. “What is it, Kurt?” he asked, helping to right him.
“A monster!” the boy said. “It came out of the wood. And Owen- you’ve got to help him!”
“What sort of monster?” Masakari started, but the other two were ignoring her.
Rune pushed past her, ducking back through the doorway to his chambers to retrieve a small knapsack. “Take me to him,” he said, throwing the bag over his shoulder. Masakari followed as the two hurried out the door.
“Take my horse,” she offered, quickly loosing both animals’ tethers. Rune thanked her and took the reigns from her hand. She slipped the packs from the other horse’s back. Masakari mounted the pack horse and lifted the boy, seating him in front of her. He pointed back towards town and they set off down the path.
As they neared the edge of the woods, Kurt pointed into the trees and Rune and Masakari steered their horses in the direction he indicated. The brush was sparse enough to allow them passage among the trees and they continued a fair distance from the path before their objective came into view.
Three boys, near the same age as Kurt, stood guard over a fourth who lay sprawled on the ground each holding a branch like a weapon and staring into the trees about them. All three started nervously, tightening their grips on their makeshift weapons, as the riders approached.
Careful not to dislodge the boy, Masakari leapt from the horse’s back as they reached the others. Rune clumsily drew his mount to a stop before making an awkward dismount and Kurt slid from his seat last. At sight of Rune, the boys eased a bit, making room for him to reach their injured friend.
Rune knelt to examine the boy, while Masakari made her own assessment from over his shoulder. The child was clearly the youngest of the group, perhaps by several years. He lay on his back in the undergrowth, biting his lip to fight the urge to cry out. His left leg was badly broken and soaked with blood that flowed from a set of deep clawlike gashes. Rune set to work, tearing the fabric of his pants away from the wound.
“What happened here?” Masakari demanded of the remaining boys.
“Worry about that later,“ Rune snapped. “Let me take care of him first.”
“If it comes back…”
Eyeing the wound, Rune quickly discarded the knapsack and offered Owen a hand. “This is going to hurt,” he said. “Squeeze my hand.” Meekly, the boy obliged.
“What did this to him?” Masakari continued to press the others. They eyed her apprehensively, saying nothing.
“It’s alright,” Rune assured them, “She’s a knight. She’s here to help.”
At the mention of her being a knight, the boys’ expressions turned to awe. “It was the strangest thing I ever saw,” said one. “It was like a big dog, but its head was just a skull with no eyes.”
“And big fangs,” said another.
“And claws,” added the third.
“Ready?” Rune asked Owen. The boy gave an anxious nod, gripping the man’s hand tightly.
“It looked like a dead thing,” the second boy said. “But it was walking just like anything.”
Owen yelped and everyone’s attention was drawn to him. Rune, still holding his hand in one of his own, had now placed his other hand on the boy’s leg just above the wound. Masakari thought she must have imagined it, and blinked to try to dispel the image, but she swore that, just for an instant, a halo flickered around the two. The damaged leg convulsed and slowly twisted itself back into shape and the wounds closed and mended themselves right before her eyes. She had heard the man worked miracles, but this was far beyond anything she had even imagined. Though the others responded with looks of discomfort or sympathy, she was certain she was the only one truly surprised.
A loud noise from the brush startled them all. The boys gripped their sticks like cudgels, spinning nervously in the direction from which it had come. Masakari drew her sword. A beast perhaps three feet high and four long, with the haunches of a dog and a head like the skull of a bear laced with drooping grey flesh, came leaping from the bushes, viciously bearing a mouthful of jagged teeth.
Masakari quickly stepped in front of the boys, halting the demon’s advance with her sword. A sharp blow to the chest with the flat of her blade sent the monster tumbling to the ground. It righted itself almost before it landed and pounced again. Masakari struck again, cleaving its head from its shoulders. The demon fell at her feet in a disjointed shower of loose flesh and bones. Kicking the skull across the ground, she sheathed her blade.
Rune rose, taking the branch from one of the boys’ hands. He prodded the crumpled remains of the demon. A loud hiss and a pungent odor escaped the pile as the stick disturbed it. Rune let the branch fall and was violently ill.
Masakari studied Owen as she waited for Rune to regain his composure. The boy’s leg bore the scars of a freshly healed wound, but he was whole. “You do not expect me to believe that was anything but magic,” she said sternly, when Rune had recovered.
“No,” he conceded. “I guess not. And I suppose that,” he indicated the jumbled pile with a grimace, “was a demon?”
She nodded. “So will you hear me out?”
“I don’t see as I have much choice,” he said.
“Rune’s not in trouble, is he?” Owen asked.
“If you plan on doing anything to him…” one of the others warned.
“Not at all,” she said.
“Let’s get them home,” Rune said. “Then we can talk.”