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[Tay Thormear]

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(I apologize for the length of this story. Music started playing, and the stuff just rolled into my head. I finally cut it off )

The boy’s legs expanded longer and longer with each stride. He raced down the tunnel as fast as he could, trying to reach the doors in time. His fingers wrapped around the rolled up parchment so tightly that it was beginning to crumple. His legs shortening their strides as he approached the massive wooden doors. He raised his fist, breathing heavily from the running, and slammed on the door three times in a rhythmic tone.

The massive doors swung open, revealing a room full of light. Candles, torches, and lanterns were spread out all around the octagonal room. A group of clerics sat noisily at a circular table. One of the clerics smashed his fist into the table in frustration, as the boy approached he took caution.

“I have a report on Beowulf Thormear.” He spoke quietly. He slowly extended his hand dropping the parchment on the table. The boy quickly turned and fled the scene, returning home to his family.

“So both Beowulf and Gerosh have discovered that they both have other halves” One cleric piped up. He held the parchment open in front of him, reading it carefully.

“They seem to be getting overly curious with the subject of matter. There is no way that we can allow them to interact with each other.” Another cleric spoke impatiently. He wanted to end the life of Beowulf long ago; instead the other clerics wanted him to suffer.

“Perhaps. What if we were to deceive Beowulf?” the first cleric asked, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Explain.” Another cleric spoke, not very intrigued by his question.

“Well, if we make the rituals stronger, and more intense, perhaps we could make the dreams and visions worse than ever before. Not only that, we could make Beowulf believe that it is Gerosh that is causing all the pain. Forcing him over the edge, to do things he wouldn’t ever believed of doing before.”

The clerics nodded in agreement. They would bring more pain and suffering onto Beowulf than ever before. They gathered their things and rose from the table, making their way to the ritual room.


* * *


Beowulf sat behind his large stone desk, lighting the bowl of his pipe. He inhaled the fumes slowly, than exhaled, releasing them in the shape of “O’s”. He glanced around at his fairly large collection of books. Nothing in the room of his office could explain what was happening to him. They didn’t explain the cross that had appeared many nights ago on his chest, they couldn’t explain the paladin that now shared his body, and they couldn’t explain his dreams. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently; there might be one place that he could look.

Making his way to the bottom floor of his home, he kept an open eye for his servant. His eyes made their way to the window, looking out onto the lake, seeing Rubik on the shoreline fishing. He whistled loudly, grabbing the fisher’s attention. Beowulf waved his hand inwards, directing the servant to come to the house.

Rubik rushed the door of his master’s home, hoping he hadn’t done something wrong.

“Yes master, what can I do for you?” he asked, bowing his head quickly.

Beowulf raised his arm and smacked the servant across the head. “What did I tell you about bowing, it shows disrespect to not meet my eyes when we exchange words. For the fact of me being called master, I’m not yer damn master, I merely provide you with work.” He snarled.

“Yes, I forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need you to travel to the library that has been constructed in Malas. When you reach the library, I need you to researched markings, and curses. Find out as much about this cross on my chest, and why I share my body with a damn paladin.”

Rubik nodded quickly, he rushed outside and opened the door to the stable. Leaping on his horse he clicked its hind end with his heel and took off. He would find the answers quickly for Beowulf.

He watched his servant ride away into the forest. Turning slowly on his heel, he took a few steps towards the couch. Opening his mouth widely and scrunching his eyes, he let out a loud yawn. He fell back onto the couch and spread out, closing his eyes he slowly drifted of to sleep.

* * *

Beowulf’s body sweated intensely as he slept, his body shook violent. His hands clenched tightly to the top and bottom of the couch. His eyes snapped open; his pupils burned intensely, flames reflected out of them. He continued to sleep, through all of the pain he was receiving.

A skull flashed off and on in front of him, snakes crawled in and out of its eyes, it ignited into flames every few seconds. The sound of children’s whispers filled his head, the loud screeching of a hind when it was slaughtered. Two hands came out of the darkness, wrapping around the skull, the fingers pressed into it tightly. A deep, loud voice began to speak slowly.

“You will suffer for hosting this body Beowulf. Soon you will bow to me, the only one who deserves this body. That’s right, I, Gerosh, have caused these dreams and pain upon you. Trying to drive you from your body. It will not be a lose when your gone, many like me more than you.”

The voice was continuing its words, until Beowulf was being slapped in the face. His eyes closed and snapped open again, staring up at Rubik. He brought his hand up to his face and wiped the sweat away, breathing heavily.

“I have found the answers you were looking for.” Rubik spoke quietly. He wasn’t quite sure what he had just witnessed, but it still had him startled.

It had taken a while for him to explain everything to Beowulf. How the marking could only be given by a group of highly trained clerics. It slowly rid the body and soul of all evil, in this cause driving his necromancy abilities away, along with the ability to speak to the dead.

After all the information sunk into his head, Rubik carried on. A mixture of blood could, only do the bonding of a necromancer and a paladin in one body. Beowulf explained that he poured the blood of a paladin into the burnt cross on his chest. Together they determined that the soul of the paladin had transferred through the blood, into Beowulf’s body.

Rubik left the home of Beowulf Thormear. As he walked away, towards the shoreline, he heads a loud holler from the house he had just left, the noise of things smashing, and being thrown against walls. He wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing telling Beowulf everything that he had learned, but he guessed it was necessary.


* * *

The clerics chanted loudly, their hands held in a circle. Raising their hands up high they continued with the chanting. The voice of one cleric was heard over the others.

“Finish this now!” he screamed loudly. “Make him think Gerosh is doing all this!”


* * *

Beowulf suddenly dropped to his knees, dropping the vase that was held over his head. His hands ignited into flames, and the visions poured into his head once again. Snapping his hands back and forth he put out the flames and grasped his head. He huddled in the corner of his bedroom, shaking violent, and rocking back and forth. His eyes folded over, showing only white.

He began to scream in a shaking voice. “You will pay for this Gerosh! You will pay for this with your life!”