A Slave's Shadow

From Atlantic Roleplay Wiki

A Slave's Shadow by S. M.

Through the ages of time and the annals of Darkness has existed the servitude of one unto another, or of one unto a cause. This tale is of that, of such a servitude and what it can bring to those who fail and to those who succeed. Our tale takes place within the frozen wastes of Dagger Isle within the lands of Sosaria, during an early period of its time when still did a King known as British sit upon his throne. A time twas it of constant tales of glory and darkness, with daemons and evil itself corrupting the lands whence the Light did not stop it. Our tale takes focus on two young persons, a lad by the name of Salius and his sister, Raiven, magi both.

The two children, early in their proffession came across a Necromancer of the Order of the Ebon Skull to whom, after seeing some small feats of his in the Dark Arts, quickly inlisted to the Order. But they where hardly prepared for the tribulations that being a Slave to Oblivion requires.

Snow fell lightly upon the wasteland which was Caina, a storm having just spent its fury on the withered bone which made up so many of the buildings there. Blood stains sat ever present in the gray cold that littered the ground, adding some odd color to the bleak landscape. From across the ways, the crunches of feet in snow echoed across the buildings, being but the only sounds present in the city.

From about a corner, two figures garbed in tattered robes and carring bags that seemed too heavy for their frail persons staggered forward. Life drained of their features, and some of their limbs now frost-bitten, they trudged through the frozen wastes with no expression on their bowed faces. Onwards they trudged, oblivious to the straining of their malnurished bodies as numbness of fever took them. One collapsed to the ground, almost immediatly burried by the snow as the other turned slowly and lowered his pack.

"Sister, please... Gath will whip us if we are not quick in providing the ingots for his death knights armor." Spoke Salius as he offered a hand towards his sister.

"Why must we do this anyway, Salius? We are slaves under Mesostopholes, why so must we labor for that rotting piece of..."

She spoke in kind, tears welling at her eyes as her body shivered. She excepted his hand and raised to her feet as her brother spoke to her.

"Silence, sister! Please... if anyone heard you talking so, they would flay the skin from your bones... please, we must do as we're bid by our masters." His voice nearly cracked as he braced himself in the snow to lift her up. Picking up her bags, he lifted them onto her shoulders before picking up his own and continuing on his way once again. Sibling in tow, he made his way to the designated place... the Asylum of Perdition. Leaning heavily into one of the wooden doors as the sign outside squeaked on its hinges, Salius tugged on the latch of the other.

With a creak louder then that of the sign, the door slowly opened to reveal a creature standing within. Heads bowing lower then they already where, the two of them entered into the presence of Gath of Baal. Skeletal frame clad in the darkest platemail, kept aloft through some foul arcane workings, this dark beings very visage struck terror into the hearts of the two. Growling, it turned red eyes which glowed within a white skull towards the two and bellowed an order.

"Lay down those bags before me and begone, slaves! I have no wish to spend more time on thy pitiful selves then I already have."

The two dropped their packs and turned to go, though they stopped at a bellow from Gath. Turning quickly, their eyes opening wide as they say the dreaded Knight of Oblivion hoisting up a bag of ingots only to have the bottom drip with water. "What is THIS?!?"

The Dark Knight called to them in a menacing tone, tossing the bag directly at Raiven as it was one of those she had dropped for the skeleton. "I would never think of a daemon to stuff snow into his precious metals... some are no doubt RUINED because of this. Which of you is responsible?!?" Red eyes burned holes into the individual souls of the two pitiful beings before him before Salius stepped forward and looked into the dark creatures glowing eyes.

"Twas I, m'lord, who accidently dropped my bags into the snow... I beg thy forgiveness, I..." The boy pleaded, before being struck across the face with a metal gauntlet.

"Now you pay..." Hissed Gath as he slowly approached the lad, stooping to pick him up. From her place at the door, Raiven watched the shadows behind them as the beating commenced. Before long, blood began to splatter the walls before finnaly finding its way onto her robes.

A spattering of the red liquid found its way onto her face, to which she simply wiped the stuff of and watched as the imposing shadow of the Dread Knight continued to beat the helpless form of her brother. Minutes turned into an hour, and finnaly the battered form of her brother lay at her feet as she heard the Death Knight scream for her to leave with that filth, pointing to her sibling. Picking him up, she carried him back into the snow towards the Necromancers home, where her lord and master waited. Once returned, she settled her siblings battered body before Mesostopholes.

"Master... Gath of Baal injured thy servant verilly..."

The daemon turned back towards the girl, eyes blazing for a moment with a sinister fire before his face became a tranquile mask of humanity once again. Settling a hand upon the boys chest, life gurgled back into his body before he bid him stand.

"Servant of Darkness, I have one final duty for thee to perform before ye may advance and learn of the Dark Arts." The daemon spoke as Sailus's eyes widened. "Ye must take this dagger and plunge it into thy sisters breast."

A cruel smile twisted on the High Necromancers lips as he handed the slave an ornate dagger with a red pommel, turning him towards his sibling. Eyes blinking, Salius threw down the blade and burst into tears as he looked upon his blood streaked sister. Covering his eyes, he barely saw the blade enter into his own breast, directed by her hand. "Well done... welcome."