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A Battle in the Marsh; {P} Fehade
Topic Started: Sun Jan 25, 2009 4:23 pm (223 Views)
Takhbork Shakh
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[Well, before we start, I believe that need some good music to set the mood. So, if you will just click this LINK, then we can get started. ]
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Takhbork made his way through the thick underbrush of the Hauntwood Marsh, cursing silently to himself in a long forgotten dark tongue of old. He was angry. Another one of his experiments had failed again; he felt that he had been SO close this time. Yet, once again, he managed to only achieve yet another miserable failure.

"I was sure that was it...what did I get wrong this time? What is the secret? What am I lacking?", the wraith hissed to himself in a low muttering tone. He did not have enough. He did not have enough of his master's notes and books. He needed more... Yet, so few artifacts of his master remained, for it had been so long...since the evil Shakh Burgul had last walked the lands of Imythess... What if he had found all that had remained of his master's dark research?

Takhbork froze and then fiercely shook his head in disbelieve, " NO, the power must be mine! I WANT IT! I DESERVE THAT POWER! I-It cannot just be gone." Takhbork would not accept defeat on this. He wanted Burgul's dark art. He wanted to rediscover the art of 'Dark Alchemy'. Takhbork continued move forward again, but at a slower pace than before.

He passed the large moss covered rock, which served as a identifying marker for navigating around that part of the marsh, and then began to cross into the dangerous sinkhole area of the marsh. This particular bog had many sinkholes in it and was very hazardous to anyone who did not know the safe ways through it.

Takhbork was just one of the few individuals who did know the safe ways through it.

Most people did not go that way, even if they did know the hidden safe paths. For this sinkhole infested bog gave off a most hideous stench; that would drive most beings into retching fits. It was for this reason that Takhbork did his experiments in that particular area the Hauntwood Marsh. The bog circled completely around this particular area, and usually guaranteed him privacy from most prying eyes.

He made his way over the hidden paths and soon was out of the bog. He passed a nearly destroyed stone sculpture, which probably had served as a sort of signpost during better days, and began to wind his through the maze of dark trees.
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Fehade
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"Shut the hell up, Rreazanon!" Fehade snapped into the empty night. He ran a hand through his hair that was down to his shoulders today, his hand running over the studs of horns protruding from his head. His red eyes stared across a trail and he stood there, thinking, trying his best to ignore the demon infused that spoke ceaselessly through his head. I'll kill him, one of these days, I'll kill him, he thought to himself, but there was little ways to kill a infused demon that was bound forever to your soul, one way was to kill yourself, but he wondered even then if the demon would still live forever, and even though he regretted even thinking it, he feared dying himself, and he had no plans to die anytime soon. Revenge was needed first.

He looked down at his tiger that laid close to the ground the large feline growled. Neither of his cats like this place, and neither did Fehade, he despised the rat that claimed ownership over the marsh, but that mattered little right now. Jobs came first, and he needed to get through the marsh, why he decided to wander off the path, not even he knew, to many annoying memories he supposed. Whatever.

He stood up from his leaning position against a tree, and started walking down the path, wanting something to kill, burn, chop to pieces, but it wasn't like anything like that was going to come around especially for him. He could always hope though. "Come on, Roz." He muttered to the tiger, that stood, and trotted ahead, disappearing out of sight.

To pass time, he thought of Shadeen, the poor little girl that no one could protect from him. He could cut, burn and torment the girl however he wanted, and no one could protect her. Everyone was weak, so weak it was very disappointing and pathetic. Grumbling, he continued down the path, looking at the ground where he walked, fingers caressing the hilt of one of his katanas.
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