| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Facing the Harvest (P); Shan | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Sun Oct 21, 2012 8:38 pm (1,136 Views) | |
| Dali | Sun Oct 21, 2012 8:38 pm Post #1 |
![]()
|
The nearest town to the ruins is a farming village, so small it doesn't have a name. Now this town has a tavern and, at the time is story begins, the tavern had a cat. It had several cats, actually, the tavernkeeper's wife being rather fearful of mice, but this kitty was unique in that he was completely hairless. There was not a patch of fur on him. Just the same, he was still white-ish with black spots. He was rather lanky and lean, an adolescent as far as felines go. He was quite chatty as well - would happily meow and trill at anyone who cared to listen - and just a little uncoordinated yet. But if asked about him, the innkeeper would only shrug and say, "Ain't mine." Every evening, just as the sun started to set, the cat would climb up in the tavern window and wait. After a while, a man would come out of the wood from the direction of the graveyard. He had short, dreadlocked black hair with a scraggly, patchy beard, both tangled with sticks and caked with dirt. His body was dirty, frequently covered in slime, and wrapped with burial shroud. He walked as though it pained him. Pale white skin was stretched tightly over almost, but not quite, elven features. There were open sores on his body and the fingers of one hand looked broken. He reeked of rotting compost, graveyard dust, and death. He would walk to the tavern and go inside. The cat would jump down off the windowsill and follow him to corner of the tavern. The man would sit down on an empty crate and the cat would sit in front of him, just out of arm's reach. The innkeeper would bring him a bowl of stew and set in front of the man. After the innkeeper walked away, the man would eat the stew, being very careful not to look at its contents, and stare at the cat. The cat would stare back. When the man finished eating, he'd drop two heavy coins, like those found over the eyes of the dead, into the bowl. Then he'd leave, leaving the bowl on the crate. The cat would follow him to the door and watch him stagger back in the direction of the graveyard. Then the sun would set. Nobody complained about the man. Nobody looked him in the eyes or asked about him. They already knew what he belonged to and were afraid that, if it was not him in its clutches, it would be someone they knew. And nobody wanted to chance that. So this continued, day after day after day... |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Sun Oct 21, 2012 9:38 pm Post #2 |
![]()
|
Shan Orison, traveling bard, was preoccupied in the stable. He didn't have a horse, but he did have a love for most living creatures, cats especially. Thus, when Shan wandered into this small tavern over the fields, getting too lost to notice the roads before the buildings in the distance. He wandered through the stables first and, attracted to the owl perched on his shoulder, found himself surrounded by opportunistic cats. "Awww, hey there, kitty!" he said, his voice high pitched and as close to sing song as he could. He scratched the ear of an affectionate ginger with one hand and a tortoiseshell with the other, enjoying himself. Owlcifer, safe on a rafter, watched the ensemble with interest, tilting his head from one side to another. Shan smiled, wishing he had some sort of treat to give the stable cats. He shifted hands to another set of cats, looking for someone he hadn't petted, when a particular cat caught his eye. "Oh.....what happened to you?" Shan asked to one cat that hung on the edges. He edged closer, sticking out a loosely clenched hand toward the cat to sniff. The poor thing looked pitiful. Instead of a thick coat of fur, the cat sat bald, its skin pale white and spotted with black, wrinkled all over. Though it didn't look distressed and was alert and bright eyed, being completely bare couldn't be good for it. Shan cooed at it, hoping to coax it to stay. He really needed to tell the tavern owner about the poor thing, if it'd let him hold it. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Mon Oct 22, 2012 2:05 am Post #3 |
![]()
|
The kitty sniffed Shan's hand and then rubbed up against it, making little chirping noises. It was more than happy to be skitched under the chin or between the ears. However, as far as catching it went... ...not a snowball's chance in Hell. It dashed between Shan's legs and lept up on one of the stall doors. Then it tried to sit down and look smug, but its rear missed the wood completely and it fell into a pile of straw with an undignified squeak. As it laboriously made its way up the door again, the hostler for the stable stuck his head around the corner. He looked at the bard, up to his ankles in cats, and said, "Ye gotta horse?" He didn't give Shan a chance to answer. "If ye ain't gotta horse, then git. If ye wan' t'sleep down here, ye need t'pay the barkeep." The kitten, balance and dignity somewhat restored, lept down from the stall and raced into the direction of the tavern's cat door - a simple hole in the front door. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Thu Oct 25, 2012 10:05 pm Post #4 |
![]()
|
The kitten deigned to be petted, letting Shan feel that there was a thin layer of nigh invisible hairs on its hide, but slipped away before his hand could grasp it. Proving its vitality despite its poor coat, it bounded up one of the stall doors and plopped down on the sill. Shan could hear Owlcifer wheeze a little owl laugh as the kitten's attempts to show off fell flat, directly into a mound of hay behind the door. Shan heard it squeak out a mew, but soon saw a pair of naked paws as the kitten worked its way back up. "Ye gotta horse?" Shan heard behind him. He spun around to see the unamused face of the stable hostler. "If ye ain't gotta horse, then git. If ye wan' t'sleep down here, ye need t'pay the barkeep." "Oh, um, sorry," Ollie said, trying to keep an eye on both the holster and the kitten. "I'll just..." Shan turned as the kitten bounded to the floor and raced inside a hole in the tavern door. "I'll go...I'll go do that. Excuse me." He grabbed his bag and ran over to the door, opening it slowly, hoping to see the kitten on the other side. It hadn't wandered far, and Shan shot out an arm to grab the kitten by the nape of its neck and pull it close. "Gotcha," Shan said, petting its head after cuddling it in his arms. He looked up to see a handful of patrons and the man behind the bar all paused in either middrink or midcleaning. They were all turned toward the door, and all were staring, blankfaced, at Shan. Never had a man with a kitten demanded so much attention while staying child friendly. "Um...hi, ah....This kitten doesn't seem to have its fur, in case you didn't know," Shan managed to say to them, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Thu Oct 25, 2012 11:43 pm Post #5 |
![]()
|
The bartender put down a mug with a thunk. "It ain't from round here," he said, quite calmly. The kitten twisted away from Shan's arms and hopped up into the window to watch the sinking sun. It wasn't quite twilight yet, but it was close. "An' tain't my cat neither, so don't ask," the barkeep added. "I wouldn't go messin' with it, if I was ye." The kitten turned back to the barkeep and said, "Rowr!" Then it returned to gazing at the path from the graveyard. A slight smile twisted at the barkeep's lips and he took a bowl off a nearby shelf. "Ye bard?" he asked Shan. "Play here an' ye'll sleep an' eat one meal free." |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Sat Oct 27, 2012 1:54 pm Post #6 |
![]()
|
"Yes, yes I am," Shan said to the question, feeling himself on far firmer ground. Normally, Shan would try to up it the offer to two meals, but now wasn't the time for that. The air still felt tense, but it was much better now the kitten now sitting on the windowsill and not in his arms. "Fiddler by trade, and that sounds like a good deal to me." Shan watched the cat as he opened his worn instrument case, opening it reverently to reveal the much loved violin within, resting on a bed of red velvet. It didn't like the bartender. From the way it adorably roared at him, Shan suspected the man had more than a few tiny scars from needlesharp teeth and claws. If it hated the person in here, though, why was it here? Cats didn't tolerate people they hated unless they had a damn good reason, and food wouldn't bring it indoors to look out the window, especially since there was no food for it Shan could see. There was no designated place for Shan to play, but it was also far from busy. Besides Shan, there were four people inside, and the three patrons were focused on their drinks. Shan commandeered a bar stool, pulled it toward a corner, and began to play, sticking with a simple background tune that settled nicely into the hindbrain. All the while, he kept an eye on the kitten, wondering what its story was. Edited by Shan Orison, Sat Oct 27, 2012 2:11 pm.
|
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Sat Oct 27, 2012 3:04 pm Post #7 |
![]()
|
The sun dropped toward the horizon. Sunset pouring through the window lit the tavern in orange and red. The kitten shifted - ears forward, tail lashing, eyes on the road to the graveyard. "Murrrow!" it shrieked when it saw the familiar figure shuffling along the road. Some of the patrons finished their drinks in a couple of swallows and left. The silhouette of a hooded figure that staggered past the window. There was the thunk of a body hitting the door and it slowly opened, revealing a shadow draped in a shroud. The scent of rotting plants drifted into the room. The kitten dropped down to the floor and began chattering at the shadow, as if it was talking about its day. The shadow wandered into the room. As the light shifted around it, it became a much less imposing figure - a man with a burial shroud wrapped around his waist and looped over his head and shoulders. His black, matted beard was sticking out from under the makeshift hood and his bare chest and back were covered in mud, sores, cuts, burns, and scars. His feet were misshapen and blue-black. The fingers of one hand were bent at odd angles and all of his nails were yellowed, cracked, bruised, or gone completely. His bones were clearly visible under his skin. He wandered over to his usual corner and sat down on his crate. The bartender unceremoniously set a bowl of stew on the floor and slid it towards him. With a grunt of effort, the man bent over and picked it up. He ate it with the spoon provided, watching the cat while it talked to him. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Sun Oct 28, 2012 10:14 pm Post #8 |
![]()
|
The violin gave a screech along with the cat as the bowstring slid upward from Shan's startled shock. The bald kitten was bounding up and down in the windowsill, excited at something it saw outside with the sunset. A clinking to the side turned Shan's head away, his nerves still rattled and worried about danger. The three other patrons gulped down the last of their drinks and shuffled quickly out the front door, their movements suggesting they were worried not about needing to be somewhere else, but avoiding being here. Shan focused, and he began to play again, reminding himself he was safest when his music echoed around the room. He still jumped at the next sound, a heavy thump of something flexible yet solid. Shan forced himself back to playing, keeping his breathing as steady as he could. That breath caught in his throat as the door creaked open. It did not creak, his logic said. Well, his bardic senses said, a bit huffy, [/i]By all rights they SHOULD have.[/i] The door, its hinges well oiled and free of rust, failed to creak open. However, in a proper bardic tale, it would have. Within the dying twilight, a shadowly lump of a figure edged inside, its feet moving it in slow, lumbering steps. The smell rolled in far more smoothly, settling around the bar and making itself comfortable. The assault on Shan's nostrils made identifying it slow, but it reminded him of the stench uncovered when turning over his mother's garden compost. Old, discarded carrot peels, turnip tops, limp lettuce, and other kitchen scraps fermenting and getting rained on and baking in the sun for months on end, leaving just a mephitic reek behind. Shan's playing ceased as he pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose. What followed, considering the newcomer and the eeriness of his arrival ragged, worn appearance, was a bit surprising to Shan. The bartender, instead of recoiling or demanding the stranger leave, instead poured some of the stew boiling on the fire as the stranger sat on an old carton caddy corner to Shan. He slid the bowl across the floor in lieu of hand delivering it, and the stranger, with great effort, reached down with a gnarled hand to lift it up and laboriously eat. The bald kitten, instead of running and hiding in the stables, instead leapt down and, since the stranger's arrival, mewed at chattered in happy kitten tones. It kept its distance, but remained within a set radius with the man. Shan hoped it was a man. A woman would take much better care of her beard if she could grow one. Slowly, Shan edged closer, overcoming the stench as his nose shut down in self defense. His animal loving side pointed out that this man couldn't be too bad if the kitten stayed and waited all day for him here. His inner healer, cringed at the state of this man's health, wanting to rush forward and heal everything it could. His inner bard? It knew a tale when it saw one, and it still wasn't too late to get another Black Harvest story for the season. "H-hello? Sir?" He said, standing as close as he dared, which was just beside the kitten. "Um, I was wondering if you'd like some help. I have training as a healer, and I know some healing magics if you wish for some aid..." |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Mon Oct 29, 2012 11:41 pm Post #9 |
![]()
|
The man stopped, staring at the bard, spoon halfway to his mouth. He let it fall back into the bowl with a slight spatter of stew. With shaking hands, he lifted his hood. Muddy green eyes looked out from a mass of tangled black hair. They looked wild, but not fearful. Well, maybe a little fearful. It was their default state. But hope flickered inside them. "S-S-Shan?" Dali sputtered. Shan was barely able to say anything more when Dali threw himself at his feet. "P-please, p-pease, gods, if you're my f-friend, S-Shan, p-p-please kill me. I'm b-begging you. Kill me b-because no one else will. I s-swear if I mean anything to you just end..." Suddenly with a screech of pain he covered his ears and staggered to his feet. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. "S-somebody p-p-p..." The words ended in a pain-filled scream. And Dali staggered out of the tavern and down the street to the graveyard as fast as his injured feet could carry him. The kitten, feeling abandoned, gave Shan a dirty look and an upset, "Mew." |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Mon Nov 5, 2012 11:50 pm Post #10 |
![]()
|
The ragged man turned toward Shan, the greasy, grimy face looking at him not with contempt or annoyance, but confusion slowly growing to shock. "S-S-Shan?" he warbled, mossy green eyes growing wide. Shan's mind didn't connect who the stranger was at first. That person was bald, for one instance, face and head cleanly shaven. He also didn't smell as pungent as this. The most one usually got was a hint of soap and a thin patina of sweat and fear. That voice, though, sounding as though it were on the verge of screaming even at its calmest, that was unmistakeable. And right now, it sounded very close to wailing in fear. "Dali?" Rather than the joyful reunion Shan expected, where he'd be suppressing his gag reflex as they hugged and laughed at their mutual survival, Dali threw himself at Shan's feet, blubbering in panic for the bard to kill him. He cried and pleaded until he screamed in agony, forced himself back to his feet, and stumbled back out the door into the night. Shan stood still in silent shock, staring at the still swinging door, until the bald kitten's annoyed meow snapped him out of his confusion. "Dali, wait!" he shouted, rushing toward the door, but Dali was already lost in the misty gloom of the night. He still looked, walking some ways down the trail before giving up and turning back, rubbing his head in confusion. What the hell was wrong with Dali? Why did he want to die? Why did he suddenly leave? Why didn't he just run like he usually did? From the state of the thief, he'd been under duress for far too long, and far longer than Dali ever let himself stay. He walked back into the inn, approached the counter, and signaled for the barkeep's attention. "What do you know about the man who was just here?" he asked, his green eyes focused deeply on the bartender's face. His friend was in danger. There was no room for Shan to tiptoe now. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Tue Nov 6, 2012 5:05 pm Post #11 |
![]()
|
"Not a thrice-cursed thing," the bartender said. "Ye bring hell an' high water on yerself just talkin' t'him. Don't." The jug the man was holding hit the bar with a heavy thud, much harder than it would have it he'd just dropped it or just set it down hard. "An' git out. Likes of ye and other troublemakers ain't welcome here." The man stormed out through the door behind the bar that led to the kitchen. The rest of the patrons who had been hanging about got up and left. Some of them shot Shan dirty looks as they walked out, others caught his eye just to shake their heads, many more even refused to make eye contact. One man slapped Shan on the back in a comradely fashion, eyes full of sympathy and sadness, but said nothing. Soon the only local in the bar was the kitten, who put both his paws on Shan's leg and stretched up as far as it could reach. "Mew?" |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Tue Nov 6, 2012 6:54 pm Post #12 |
![]()
|
Shan flinched a bit when the barkeep slammed the jug down, an involuntary twitch that didn't alter his expression. He waited as the barkeep stormed into the safety of the back, and those few souls that braved Dali's arrival, one even smacking him on the back in consolation. Shan waited until he stood alone in the tavern with only the mewling kitten. He waited until the count of twenty, straightened, and exited out the door to the stable once more, violin in hand. Instead of stopping, he rounded the corner, followed the building to an unadorned door in the back, knocked twice with a whispered word, opened it, and strode inside. "A man covered in sores and lacerations, smelling like that, and you allow him into your establishment for food, care for his pet, and you feed him like it's routine, but I doubt you do it out of the kindness of your heart. I bet you're doing unto others so nothing is done unto you," Shan shot out like a barrage of arrows once he caught sight of the barkeep once more in the steamy, smoky backdrop that made up the back kitchens of roadside inns. "You know nothing? You know something about his gaoler, enough to fear whoever they are. Care to share, good sir?" |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Sat Nov 10, 2012 12:15 am Post #13 |
![]()
|
By that points the kitchen staff (all four of them, including the dog) were all staring at Shan and the barkeeper. "Ye don't know half of what ye be gettin' yerself into..." from this the phrases degenerated into a series of slurs and colloquialisms all delivered in an accent that got increasingly thicker as the barkeeper's face got redder and redder and his voice got louder and louder. Finally, when he was so angry he looked as though he could boil a kettle full of water on his skin, he said, "...and ye can take t'thrice damned, hairless, mangy, flea-bit sack of claws and skin wit' ye," and punched Shan in the face. Then he grabbed the bard by his shirtfront, hauled him to the door, and threw him out. A moment later, the man tossed the cat out too. It arched through the air with a "murrrRRRRRRROOoooooww!" and landed, claws extended, on Shan's chest. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Shan Orison | Sat Nov 10, 2012 4:46 pm Post #14 |
![]()
|
Shan thought the sudden jab in the nose was the worst part of the day. Then, he thought the sudden jab and being bodily tossed out into the night, his shirtfront ripping with the throw, was the worst part of the day. He was wrong. It was the sudden jab, bodily tossing, then getting a small, terrified, bald, airborne kitten right on the chest, every single one of its tiny, needle claws extended and gripping into the solid, soft flesh of his torso. "Ahhhhh!" he screamed, mirroring the kitten's own horrified cries. He sat up, grabbed the kitten as gently as he could manage in his current state to pry it off, and held his throbbing, leaking nose with the other. "Ahhh..." he exhaled, trying to catch his breath through his mouth. The door to the tavern was slammed shut, the click of a lock securing it. That wouldn't actually keep Shan from reentering, but the bard was fairly certain he'd struck out. "Whoo?" a warbling voice questioned. Shan turned to see a small brown owl wing through the night and settle gently on his shoulder. "Whoo, hooo?" "Ack, hang on," Shan said. He put the kitten down on his lap, held his hands up around his ears, and whispered, eyes shut. He heard a small pop, and he put his hands back around his bloodied nose. "Alright, go." "Are you okay?" Owlcifer asked, cocking his head at a right angle. "I'm...ack," Shan paused as some of the blood dripped on his ripped shirt. "I just...I was stupid. Let myself get angry and..." he sighed. "I messed up. All I know is Dali's in trouble and I don't know what kind. Just," Shan paused, considering the memory of his right eye's vision. That eye wasn't one he was born with, but a replacement prosthetic that serendipitously saw not physical light, but magical energies. He had no idea what was wrapped around Dali and ensnared him. He'd say it was necrotic, but it didn't match the bruised blue and purple color of the undead. He'd say it was nature magic, but it, again, lacked the vibrant green or rich brown of woods and earth. The closest memory he had of that combination of colors and patterns was, oddly, his mother's compost pile. Dali's smell matched it, too. "Dali?" "A friend. He's in trouble, and I don't know how to help him..." A chirping sound came through the night, emanating from the feathers atop Owlcifer's head. "Ahh, Cricket says, 'What is with the malformed rat?'" Owlcifer translated. "He's...he's a cat," Shan said, ignoring the harsh word choice. That was just Cricket. "He's just...bald. He looked down at the oddly wrinkled kitten, balder than a kitten ever would be, even at birth. "Do all cats look like that under the fur." "So..." "No, you can't eat it, Owlcifer. It's Dali's cat. And I just lost it its home, too." Shan sighed once more at his collosal failure. "Guess I'll have to take care of it, and I still need to figure out what happened to Dali." "Maybe kitty knows?" "Maybe, not like I can talk to it," Shan said, trying to pet the kitten. At least he knew how to care for cats. Would a bald one have special needs? He should give it a cursory checkup for mites and such. There was more chirping. "Cricket says: 'Use that damn listening spell, idiot," Owlcifer said, repeating it by rote and removing what Shan guessed was a lot of frustration in Cricket's voice. "'How do you think you are talking to the bird brain? Set it for cat and ask the rat.'" "...Oh, duh," Shan said. Of course he should do that, and a domestic cat should be familiar enough with human speak to at least partially understand some key phrases, like the name of its owner. He held his hands over his ears, muttered the incantation, and his ears popped again. "Okay, um, kitten?" Shan said, picking the cat up and standing to get away from the tavern. "Dali. Do you know what happened to Dali? The nice man you were waiting for? Tell me about Dali." He walked into the darkness, unimpeded by the lack of light, and focused on the tiny, wrinkled body in his hands. Edited by Shan Orison, Sat Nov 10, 2012 5:16 pm.
|
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Dali | Tue Nov 13, 2012 12:45 am Post #15 |
![]()
|
"Ooooo feathers...." was the first phrase the kitten said. "Come here feathery thing...playtime now?" It's eyes were glued to the bird on Shan's shoulder. "Play Feathers? Ppppplllllleeeeease?" Then it seemed to realize where it was. "Down!" it demanded, squirming out of Shan's hands. "Down now! You made My Person go away. Don't wanna Be Here. Want to be with My Person. Down!" It lept to the ground and bolted to the brush, where it curled up and sulked. If a cat could get teary-eyed it would have. "Miss My Person. Goes away to Bad Place. Makes My Person sad." Then it hissed, sort of on principle than anything else. Go away!" |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() Join the millions that use us for their forum communities. Create your own forum today. Learn More · Register for Free |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · The Ruins of an Ancient City · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2




6:58 PM Jul 11

