Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Langois]

---

A flash crossed my mind. A memory of a death. My death... Or a death of mine. I did not know any longer. My memories had begun to melt together with memories of lives past. Lives long past.

Screams were always in my head. The last dying squeal of a madman, the first cry of new birth. Screams that never would subside. They were a part of me, but who could I tell with out being considered mad myself? I could not tell anyone, for I was alone in this torment.

You are better than this. Filtered into my mind. Am I?

Dawn was on the horizon as I rode Mas up the snaking road through the lands of Sanctus. This was my home now, and these people are the only people I knew as a family. Though I was not kin by blood, I was accepted. And to me that was enough to be considered a brother.

Mos Omar was a sleek, dusty shaded gelding. I could not remember why I had chose that name, or did I choose that name at all. Perhaps it chose me, much as Mas did when our eyes first connected. Mas snorted angrily, and I knew by now that he only does that when he felt threatened. I pulled him to a halt and looked around, my eyes were not used to darkness, scanning the vast lands all around me.

The shrill cries of vampire bats were not new to me by now. And Bonedeath was not a steel new to them. Two or three flew at me at once, and in a flash they were but a kabob on my ebony blade. My patrols were never fruitless, there was always the consistent population of vampire bats needing to be kept in check. As well as the scum sucking bandits that seemed to riddle our road, claiming a toll to pass. Though I was just a Squire I would not stand for it.

This strength of yours is a wonderful new addition. I thought as I rode along. Unconscious of what I was saying, or that it was even me who said it, I heard, "I have always been strong."

Though the sun was letting itself be known, yet darkness filled my vision. And before long I was not in Sanctus any more.

Flick... Flick...

Sanctus? I speculated. The word was foreign to my mind.

The smell of rain flooded my nostrils, along with an undercurrent of blood, steel and ash. A foreboding thunder rumbled overhead. A telling sign of the lightning soon to come. The wind would have been chilling had I not been in the throes of battle.

Battle was a constant and rightly it should be. Hurricane the overseer of the demon possessed army, that deluged our lands, pressed his forces forward. Though the possessed were many in numbers. They fell all too easily, that mattered not though, for we ourselves were few and far between.

Flick... Flick... Flick..

I gasped for air, sucking it in deeply, my lungs filling almost to a bursting capacity. Doubled over in saddle, I leaned over and emptied my stomach. Sweat soaked my dark black undershirt that kept my armor from rubbing me raw. Tears flowed from my eyes as I openly sobbed. Get a grip... What the hell is wrong with you?!? Crossed my mind.

"Who are you?" I asked aloud. Wiping tears from my eyes, I turned Mas around and rode for Hanse's. I will get some sleep, and be fine when I awake... Or will I? When I arrived I stabled Mas Omar and went to the room in which I was staying with out speaking words to Afton.

Sleep and you will be fine. A confident voice filled my head. And so I did.