Lord Rokinges
Official Fanfiction Judge
the Dire Memories Roleplay
[RECRUITING]
A roleplay.
The center of her eyes closed in on her target. She leveled her bow onto the man sitting on the horse, ready to profusely unleash a second arrow into his second eye after the first one. Time seemed to slow down... and she shot.
She ran up the stairs and jumped a meter onto the stone buttress/arch. Crouching and leaning slightly forward, she kept a highly trained eye on her target. The man under her, thinking she had escaped, shrugged his shoulder (to himself). Both of his hands held a pipe; one a smoke pipe, the other a blowpipe for poisoned darts. She jumped, and plunged her blackened blade into the man's back, knocking him to the ground as well as ending his life.
She jumped out of the carriage, ignoring the protests of the travelers who she had hid with. The bandits did not stand a chance. The whirling blades almost cut them to pieces.
The woman flew out of the bed she was sleeping in, completely at alarm. What were those disturbing dreams, and why were they so realistic?
It took her a moment to realize that she had a jarring headache.
Every thirty seconds, it seemed, a spasm of pain went through her head, and it hurt more and more. She couldn't take it. About to start banging her head on the oakwood walls of her room, she noticed a glass jug standing atop a slick wooden cabinet. She reached for it and poured it on her face and in her mouth.
Better.
As her eyesight cleared for the spasms, she became aware of her surroundings. This was not a personal home, she could tell. It was most likely a room for a town motel, or an inn room. A painting above the single bed with only one window and a lone cabinet. This was truly an arranged room of an inn.
She also noticed the envelope on the top of the cabinet. Reaching for it, she felt a cool breeze with slight condensation in the air from the ajar window. It seemed to be bolted open. Taking the letter with her, she walked a few step to the open window and peered outside.
Unknown skill kicked in in her mind; it was most likely 1:30 to 2:00 in the morning, and judging by the building shaped shadows (large and squarish) through the misty gloom, she was in a town.
She would have stared, trying to see around the mist, but she saw movement. A dark moving shape, most likely a horse, with a figure riding on top. She couldn't help but dangerously peer outside of the window.
Suddenly, the man appeared. An extremely dark brown horse, with a rider atop.
The rider's facial features were invisible and unknown in the heavy mist. He seemed to be....
She could see him now. And she gasped.
He was staring directly at the window, directly at the woman. His horse cantered mysteriously on, but his head still was turned as he slowly went by.
He had no eyes. Simply pits of black, endless... nothing.
The woman stumbled backward, trying to hold on to something before she crashed to the ground, but she only got a hold of the glass pitcher now empty of water. She fell, and the glass broke into several large pieces. The woman winced. This was too much noise for her.
She decided to go investigate where she was. Creeping to the small door that led out of her room, she pulled it open. It creaked loudly. The woman winced again.
Then she froze. Maybe the envelope would explain something. She brought it out from her grasp and opened the pale paper slowly. It parted to reveal a letter.
Dear Avalyn,
You have started a new life. The past cannot be brought to you again. I apologized for all I have done to you. Thank you for ridding me of my sight, though the arrows did hurt. I'm guessing you put all you pain [and acid] into the tip.
Because you most likely do not remember anything, know that your name is Avalyn. You have made hundred of powerful enemies over the years, and the only way to save you was to kill cast that spell. The other men agreed to let you live if you did not assassinate anyone ever again, but knowing you, I can never convince you to do that. Do not worry; I will come to you, but this will still be all very confusing. I am hoping you remembered some things... but not all. I will not be able to answer ALL of you questions.
Thanks,
Destrian the 'Immortal' Rider
Avalyn frowned. Then she put the letter back into her leather tunic she seemed to be wearing. She had never heard of a man named Destrian... she also never remembered shooting someone's eyes out. Why had she been so cruel?
She continued to creep forward into the heart of the inn; the place where travelers seemed to eat, judging by the drunken men, 6 of them, sprawled on the hard floor. One man was even snoring while holding a bottle of hard liquor.
Avalyn was about to pry it from his stiff fingers to take a swig, when the door flew open.
There stood the man, wearing a dyed leather tunic (blackened) and a raised hat. A greyhound stood at his feet. The eyes were smooth marbles of darkness.
"Hello, Avalyn," he said quietly.
