‡ The Wrong Answer ‡

He should learn to use his hand

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

Syka is a new settlement of primarily humans on the east coast of Falyndar opposite of Riverfall on The Suvan Sea. [Syka Codex]

Moderator: Gossamer

‡ The Wrong Answer ‡

Postby Torien Encinosa on July 10th, 2019, 6:24 am

Image

-‡- 16th day of Summer 519 -‡-

‡ After a period of time, his heart was hammering in his chest, and his adrenaline would indebtedly run out. A last fleeting hope that another icicle wasn't being sent to finish him off over the oggling was sent over the flesh of his shoulder. In the distance, the two women were still there, and the magi of the two was raising her finger again in his direction. Such sent a dropping of his heart and hope in humanity at the inhumane nature that the sykians were showering him with today. He returned his eyes to the sands in front of him as he headed beyond through the area between a cliff and the teeth of the maw that jutted from the waters like giant teeth in the form of boulders. It was as one of them perhaps was run around to shield him from view that his breaths finally gave out. That his eyes drew blackened sights and he felt himself giving in to the pains that had been ransacking his mind from his thigh below.

His forearms caught him from impacting the ground fully, though his forehead landed in the sands, dousing his flesh with the gritty layer. His head turned downwards to gauge the pain that was beckoning his attention at his thigh. It bled, and worse than he was hoping it was. The sight of it, and how he would tend to it became lost to him. As the trauma began rehitting his thoughts, justifying what he had just dealt with, attempting to. For he could not comprehend why the results of it had left him in such a dire circumstance.

It was as he felt himself losing consciousness, his vision blurring again into a rancid blackness that he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. They were booted, and near silent. Yet he felt them on the ground bearing the weight of larger men than him. ‡

‡Torien awakened to the sound of someone else screaming, then he began screaming as well because the fear from the other man had shaken him awake, and he became a chorus to such fear. For he suddenly did not know where he was at. Or why he could not move. Why it smelled damp, and the walls were of stone. Stone that echoed their screams of terror and confusion.

Then it became clear to him why the other man was screaming, there was two other men in the chamber. One of them held a torch, the torch was being used to singe the mans' flesh. The sound of flesh sizzling and popping as it fried from muscles beneath was only momentary. But it was enough to keep the man screaming in abject pain and delusion.

A collar was felt at Toriens' neck, of the sort that kept kelvics from transforming. He tried, but it was tight, strict, and dominated his instincts to flee with wings even in these moments.

Then, the other man noticed Torien was awake, the echoing scream drew him to walk the few paces over to him. The torch allowed enough light that the young kelvic could look himself over, and find himself tied by rope to a cavernous icicle. A stalagmite had grown through the ages, and made a tall enough column to bind him to. His leg still pained him as he awakened further. He dared not shift his leg after his first attempt at discerning his ability to do so. And failed.

"Ah..your awake. Finally, you have been seen doing something wrong. Terribly wrong. You could be dead right now. Perhaps you should be. We would be doing a favor to some women if we killed you right now. But were not so cruel as to do that." The tone of the man was matter-of-fact. The features of the man were undecipherable. The cavern was rather dark except from the torch. But their faces were masked off by hood and something more within it. Intentionally they kept themselves unknown to his eyes, eyes that might recognize them in the future perhaps.

"…you see this man here..he is a Svefra..his pod was found off the shores further north beyond the river…he is a thief..and not of our fine community. We decided to use him as a demonstration for you. Since it is very important that you learn..you see..we have strict rules here in Syka. And you are on your last leg, literally."

To ensure Torien understood such, a small blade was taken from the man's belt, and quickly thrust into Toriens' leg, sending another scream of uttering pain through something that was clotting his mouth from exuming his fears and pains completely. A gag.

A blade was taken out by the other man as well. It's long blade twisted in front of the torch as it's gleam of polished metal was appraised. The Svefra was tied onto a boulder. His stomach was in the air, he seemed bound hand and foot, but both on opposing ends of a round surface, a boulder or large rock perhaps. Torien could do little but watch, and learn, for he was gagged, his scream earlier merely going beyond its' fringes. His eyes were wide to the torchs light. The whites surrounding the amber depths particularly standing out in the chambers darkness.

"So before you are killed off, we are going to give you this last chance. This last warning. Listen well, do not look upon another woman, do not approach even one, do not speak to them..that is what I will have you do for me. I will show you..what will happen to you if you do.."

A gesture was made for the other man to do it with a snap of his fingers. The torch was lowered to the captives exposed genitals. And in another moment, the gleam of the blade was arced through the air. The wielder did a gracefully tactful turn in his stance that enhanced his speed and momentum. In the return of his circling movement, the blade was extended, and cleaved through the man's exposed flesh with a quick pronounced slice. The end of such flipped through the air to fall into the darkness beyond. Blood immediately spurt through the orifice, a stream of crimson at first, that died down. Yet, the captives screams only emerged all the more loudly. Echoing without hesitation throughout the chamber to the bounds of it's unknown exits.

"OH MY GAAAAHHHHHHhhh!" Such words were repeated to whatever god he served or worshipped. Or if he didn't he sure as hell was now. For he couldn't restrain his pain, and after moments of enduring such, began spasming, and jerking against the ropes as his blood continued to flow freely. Muscles violently shook along the exposed arce of his stomach. Cords twisting against flesh as he tried to pull himself free to relieve himself of the pain.

After a few moments of watching such explicit agony. The torch was lowered, searingly pressed against the open wound. Burning flesh began to simmer and cook within the chamber for them to breathe in. Cauterizing it in moments. Then letting it burn a little longer. The man, was not able to handle so much inflicting pain, and passed out. His screams of pain dying to their ears suddenly.

The man who had been speaking, returned his gaze to Torien. A humored sigh passing his nostrils, almost in regret, as if he had been hoping for something more from the scene.

"You've been warned..also..your no longer to go any further south than the teeth of the maw..you know what I speak of..we've seen you pass by it countless times since you've been here. We'll be keeping an eye on you..one more problem with you, and the sharks will have another body to feed upon..that one there outa do for today. Perhaps tomorrow, hmm?"

Then, as if there was nothing else to be said, the man suddenly swept his fist at Torien, knocking him out cold. Sending him back into the oblivion of darkness and comatose sleep and pain. ‡

-‡- Word Count : 1345 -‡-
Torien Encinosa
Player
 
Posts: 33
Words: 27317
Joined roleplay: May 22nd, 2019, 6:59 pm
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Plotnotes

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest