Overturned Secrets Spill Truth (Rook)

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

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Overturned Secrets Spill Truth (Rook)

Postby Shiress on August 1st, 2018, 9:23 pm

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12th Day
Summer 518

Deep within the bowels of the Lark estate, Shiress lay in her small cot, unable to fall asleep. Several bells earlier, Shiress had taken upon herself the punishment of a young slave girl. Sixteen lashes, she had come to find out, from a type of whip called a cat o' nine tails. The slave shuttered as she recalled Elene's description of the whip and knew it would be sometime before the image of that weapon would vacate her thoughts, though, that was not what troubled the slave, causing sleep to elude her.

Two things swarmed her mind, two thoughts battling for utter domination of her reasoning, understanding, and clarity. One was the whipping itself or, moreover, the lack of the biting, burning, and raw agony that she knew the type of whip used should have elicited upon her. She had known this type of pain before, back in Syliras, dealt by the hands of a drunken and angry husband as Shiress tended his wife's injuries, also inflicted by those same hands. But bells earlier, as the whip tore at her flesh, the pain was not the raw agony she had known before, but a distant, vague, unfamiliar echo of a very familiar torture. As if she had cast herself far away from that moment and turned back to look upon it, recognize it but not feel the pain as she should. Some call it tolerance, but Shiress had never been able to tolerate such overwhelming anguish, but somehow, someway, she had.

Shiress let out a long, hard sigh into the still darkness of the early morning, dispelling the thought, but just as that one washed away the other that plagued her mind rolled up to the forefront, taking its place. Kylar. The ever-present, black clad guard whose very nature baffled the slave like none other the girl had ever come to know. The young soldier was very quiet, reserved, and watchful, but not so watchful of his charge, Shiress had come to notice, as he was of his employer. The Lark family. Shiress had never been appointment a personal slave guard before, seeing as her previous Master could control her with something so simple as a thought, and quite literally, in fact. But, despite the lack of experience in being constantly shadowed and monitored by an armed observer, Shiress was fairly certain they did not attempt to talk to, befriend, or benefit their charge in any way, let-alone care for them. But Kylar -employed, paid, and ultimately owned, in a sense, by the Lark family, the largest slave-trading families in the area- had done that very thing, all of those things, in fact. The most recent occurrence being the current snare that entrapped the leg of the slave's mind.

Deep into the night, long after the healer and young cooking slave had gone, and Elene was fast asleep, Shiress, lying on her belly, the red and tender, newly healed flesh of her back naked and exposed to the coolness of the night, heard the lock click on the door of her tiny room, just before it swung open and quiet footsteps entered the room. Through half closed eyes, Shiress had watched Kylar move silently to her bedside, a small candle held aloft casting a soft, yellow light on the young guard's features. She felt the heat of the small flame move close to her shoulder, as the guard surveyed the remnants of her lashing, then wash down the length of her back. She heard a soft, almost disappointed sigh leave the guard's mouth, then felt a heavy blanket slide across her bare flesh. The soft light flickered as the man moved closer, and she felt the manacles encircling her wrists unlock, then fall away. Kylar then mumbled something Shiress couldn't understand, crossed the floor, and left the room.

Shiress groaned, forcing the befuddled image from her mind, and forced her eyes to stay closed. Chimes passed, and still she lay fighting to close off the invasive musings, and the confusion they left in the wake of their frontal attack of her consciousness. Slowly, finally, her mind cleared, thoughts drifting away like the seeds of a dandelion caught in a swift breeze, as sleep gently began leading her away into a blissful unawareness.

Shiress's green eyes jerked open and she sat bolt upright in the cot

"Rook..."

A feeling, or sensation, emotion, something, had rocked her ebbing awareness to its core, sending a bolt of...urgency? determination? unease? all of the above? slicing through her mind like that of a honed edged blade would the soft, pink flesh of a neck. The sensation was undeniably Rook. Her bondmate was...Shiress's eyes widened..he was close and he was getting closer!

Shiress lifted herself from the cot in a frenzy of long, chestnut hair and bare limbs, pulling a long shift over her head and down around her shoulders, as she padded swiftly across the wooden floor, and out into the dark, shadowy corridor outside her room. Shiress's head swiveled one way, seeing Kylar sitting quietly in a chair by the door, eyes focused on her and looking oddly unalarmed at her sudden appearance, then the other, heart pounding; it was the first time the girl had felt, truly -felt- her Bondmate's approach.

And then she saw him.

Rook came around the corner, soft lantern light spilling across his auburn hair. Shiress bounded forward in a run and slung herself at Rook, wrapping her arms around the wolf in a fierce embrace.

"How did you know I would need you this night?"
Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars


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Overturned Secrets Spill Truth (Rook)

Postby Rook on August 9th, 2018, 8:36 pm

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The party in which Rook had been ordered to stand guard over had been a lavish thing, all things considered. There were plates decorated with rich smelling meats and bread, fine aged wine dozens of years older than Rook, and gorgeous women dressed in expertly woven gowns with sweeping necklines. Rook wasn't there to enjoy any of it, of course. He was a set piece; as thoughtfully placed as a vase of beautiful flowers. A kelvic as unusual and rare as him was a sign of wealth, like a diamond broach, or sapphire earrings, and it was his job to stay still in his wolf form and look beautiful and intimidating while the guests fawned over him. Unlike previous parties, however, his master had recently come into knowledge of Rook’s other unique talents and she planned to make full use of them.

“Oh, that Radcliff Lark! Have you gone to see his Floating Garden? Fascinating, isn't it? So many strange and wonderful creatures there!”

Rook ears twitched, but aside of that he continued to look steadfast ahead. The pair of twittering ladies made no sign of having heard him.

“I do wonder how he managed to obtain so much strange and interesting fauna though,” one of the ladies said. Her voice dropped into a conspiriatal whisper, but Rook’s keen ears had no trouble making her voice out among the clamor. “There are rumors you know. That the man has not actually captured any animals at all...but that all of his attractions are actually kelvics. Interesting, no?”

Rook was very interested in what the ladies had to say, but before he could listen further, bright stabs of pain flashed across the kelvic’s back. Rook flinched but suppressed the desire to cry out. He turned to look over his shoulder, but there was of course no one there. Confusion fled, replaced by sudden panic. Shiress!

Jessica was an observant woman. Just when Rook was trying to think up how he could possibly leave this event to see what had happened to his bondmate, his master caught his eye. It was a stern, sharp look. Behave, it said. Stop drawing attention to yourself. Rook shuddered involuntarily as the remains of the pain from another blow flashed over him. Sensing something was wrong, his master nodded towards a nearby empty hallway. Trying not to rush, Rook trotted over to the hallway to wait out the lashes. By the time Jessica came to meet the wolf boy, Rook had counted a total of twenty lashes which had finally halted. Jessica offered Rook his cloak, and he flashed to his human form and covered his naked body.

“I think my bondmate is in trouble,” Rook said after a few shuddering breaths. Granted, Shiress didn't seem panicked but… that sort of pain wasn't normal.

Jessica raised an eyebrow at Rook. “And why should that make a difference to me?” the woman asked, voice cold and indifferent.

Rook was coming to understand new things about his master. She was cold and cruel certainly. Rook had always known these things about her. What Rook had not known or anticipated, however, was the woman’s craftiness. Jessica had first seen Rook as a simple pawn, to be used and thrown away as needed in her designs. The wolf boy’s machinations the past season had changed her opinion somewhat. Rook had been elevated to a bishop in Jessica’s eyes. He could now be played in more dangerous and useful ways, and he was now far more valuable.He was being trained, molded to serve her designs. So when Jessica said 'why should I care’ what she meant was 'convince me’.

Rook thought quickly. “If something were to happen to my bondmate, then the Larks would lose their connection to me. I would have no reason to offer them information and they know that. So, you would lose your link to the Larks as well. Shiress and my safety are both necessary for the information you want.”

Jessica grinned. It was playful, in a cold and cruel way. “Good puppy,” Jessica said, patting Rook’s head with enough force to make him wince. “Go check on your bondmate. And bring me some tasty information in the meantime, hmm?” She tousled Rook’s ginger hair and shoved him in the direction of his room, making him stumble. “Get dressed. No one will miss you.”

Relieved, but also nervous he was missing something important, Rook rushed to the servant quarters and dressed himself as quickly as he could manage. As an afterthought, the wolf strapped his little knife to his thigh, underneath his clothes. It never hurt to go prepared.

By the time Rook had left the estate it was already dark. The slave put up his hood so as to not draw attention to his kelvic features, and weaved himself into the still bustling crowds of people wandering the streets. By the time he was able to hail a ravolsala and make it to the Lark estate, it was already quite late. Rook was reassured by his bondmate’s mood. Although she was in some pain, she was not panicked. She was however, troubled by something. Rook had every intention to find out what it was.

Rook used the servant's entrance to enter the Lark’s estate. He drew a raised eyebrow from a nearby guard, but he simply flicked his hood back and uttered “Rook to see Radcliff Lark”. The words drew a nod from the man. Rook’s name was known well enough by now.

He was more than close by now to be able to sense the location of his bondmate. Rook knew the location of the servant quarters, but he didn't need to know them to find her. He felt a surge of excitement as she sensed him too, and then he was down the hall and around the corner and then she was leaping into his arms.

Rook felt an intense sigh of satisfaction leave him as Shiress hugged him. This. This was where he was supposed to be. The kelvic returned the gesture fiercely, though he was mindful of the ugly gashes across his bondmate’s back.

“I felt you get hurt and I had to make sure you were okay,” Rook told her, squeezing her arms before pulling away. He circled around the woman’s back to examine her injury and immediately understood. Whips made a very distinct mark against flesh, one that Rook had known himself from time to time. It was one of the many marks of a slave. 'What did you do to earn this?” Rook said, turning to look at Shiress. His voice was stern, and uncharacteristically bossy for the slave. “I thought you weren't going to do anything that would get you punished. We talked about this.”

The wolf boy, whose primary attention had been on his wounded bondmate, was suddenly hyperaware of another set of eyes not belonging to Shiress. He turned to meet the dark and quiet gaze of Shiress’ guard. Ky- something, wasn't it? The name had never been strongly impressed on him. Rook gave the guard a small nod, then turned back to his lady.

“I have many things I need to tell you,” Rook said. He hoped that the unspoken 'without us being watched’ was evident in his words, though he wasn't quite sure how they would be able to manage that. Guards were guards to listen and watch. Rook had to tell his bondmate about the change in loyalties, and they certainly couldn't do that with a spy watching.
Rook
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