I do not own Forgotten Realms. I own Yami though *sticks tongue out at
Gwen6*
Ceffyl dipped his head into the water and began to drink with a loud slurping noise.
Yami slid off his back and sat underneath one of the many weeping willows that lined this shore. While she had no need for food or rest, her mount did. Yami glanced at the surface of the lake, seeing her reflection gaze back at her with the same hypnotic eyes.
Her mount began to graze on the grass. It was quiet and tranquil... Yami almost felt at peace.
Abruptly white-hot pain began to work inside Yami's head. The alabastar elf clutched the sides of her head and watched as the lake and her reflection began to fade from sight, until she was left in complete darkness.
She was running. She had been for the past hour. Her legs felt like jelly and her breath was coming in whezzy gasps. Her body desired nothing more than rest... but to stop would be to die. They were at her heels. Their malevolent, yellow eyes shone from every shadow. Their hot breath was on her skin. Their dripping fangs, white in their wide, red maws, wanted to tear through her body and state their hunger on her blood. A tree root found her ankle and she went sprawling. Then they were upon her, their teeth going through flesh and bone.
*
The grisly remains of his companion hung on the bloodstained wall opposite. His death had not been either swift or painless. His life had ebbed away inch by inch as their delicate hands worked their skillful torture. Now it was his turn as the drow picked up their gory instruments and turned to him.
*
The screams of the dying floated up into the sky. They called on gods that never came... They cursed the folly of others... They scrambled through the streets serching for a way out. But nothing could stop the howling tidal wave of beast that engulfed their pitiful defences and scoured the streets of human life. The Warlord on his red dragon would not leave until their civilisation had been scoured from the face of Faerun.
*
A hundred sences like this came to Yami.
Death.
Torture.
Strife.
All of it came to Yami Shadowblade sooner or later.
Yami opened her eyes, claws of agony squeezing her skull. It came as no surprise that it was nighttime. Her vision always took longer than they seemed.
Yami had had these vision for as long as she could remember.
Which wasn't long.
It had been five years... Five years since she had woken. A storm was raging across the sky, rain lashing like a whip down onto the earth, lighning tearing dancing amoungst the clouds and thunder answering with its menacing rumble.
She had woken in the mud... her mind a blank... her memory gone... All she had was a sheathed katana, sharing her muddy puddle. It had felt... right to take it.
She had wandered through the storm, detached from the world... the cold... and the wet until two Red Wizards of Thay and their four apprentices had captured her... at least they tried to.
The magic had... failed... Burning Hands, Magic Missle, Fireball, Finger of Death, Entangle... none of the wizards's spells had succeed and none had survived that night.
She had waited out the storm in their tower and when it abated she took with her one of the wizards's experiments, a grey horse with red eyes and fangs.
Her first vision (at least the first one she could remember) had come sooner after. The pain that accompanyed it had been weaker then but still enough to incapatitate her.
She'd travelled Faerun ever since and had become the stuff of legends.
In combat no one could touch her... She had not recieved a scratch in five years of fighting... even though she shuned armour.
Yami placed a hand on Marwolaeth's hilt, taking comfort in the familar touch of metal. She leant against Ceffyl's side, waiting for the agony to abate.
*
Yami Shadowblade walked into the lake, relishing the sting of the cold water. Anyone who was willing to risk Yami's wrath by watching would have puzzled over how she could possibly be the Shadowblade.
They would however comment on her slight frame, pleasing curves and waist- length hair.
Yami was washing the dust of travel out of the formentioned hair when a sharp whinny from Ceffyl drew her attention back to the shore.
Her horse had been bound tightly with ropes that held dispite his struggles. A mage- a Red Wizard of Thay if his long scarlet robes were anything to go by- surrounded by five warrior clad in jet-black plate mail and armed with two handed swords. They had shed their helmets and were looking on in blatant interest.
Yami turned to face them.
How dare they try and watch her! People this dim-witted should not be allowed to live. She took some comfort in the disappointed looks that crossed their faces when they saw that her hair obscured her body but that vanished when she saw that they had her clothing and katana.
"Yami Shadowblade?" the mage called out across the lake.
Yami raised one eyebrow,
"Indeed."
"We have been instructed to bring you back to our stronghold. Come with us peacefully... and no one will have to be hurt."
"No."
"Miss Shadowblade, while our master may prefer you captured alive we can also bring you back as a corspe."
"I would like to see you try," Yami's emerald eyes glittered. She was ready for a fight.
Ceffyl dipped his head into the water and began to drink with a loud slurping noise.
Yami slid off his back and sat underneath one of the many weeping willows that lined this shore. While she had no need for food or rest, her mount did. Yami glanced at the surface of the lake, seeing her reflection gaze back at her with the same hypnotic eyes.
Her mount began to graze on the grass. It was quiet and tranquil... Yami almost felt at peace.
Abruptly white-hot pain began to work inside Yami's head. The alabastar elf clutched the sides of her head and watched as the lake and her reflection began to fade from sight, until she was left in complete darkness.
She was running. She had been for the past hour. Her legs felt like jelly and her breath was coming in whezzy gasps. Her body desired nothing more than rest... but to stop would be to die. They were at her heels. Their malevolent, yellow eyes shone from every shadow. Their hot breath was on her skin. Their dripping fangs, white in their wide, red maws, wanted to tear through her body and state their hunger on her blood. A tree root found her ankle and she went sprawling. Then they were upon her, their teeth going through flesh and bone.
*
The grisly remains of his companion hung on the bloodstained wall opposite. His death had not been either swift or painless. His life had ebbed away inch by inch as their delicate hands worked their skillful torture. Now it was his turn as the drow picked up their gory instruments and turned to him.
*
The screams of the dying floated up into the sky. They called on gods that never came... They cursed the folly of others... They scrambled through the streets serching for a way out. But nothing could stop the howling tidal wave of beast that engulfed their pitiful defences and scoured the streets of human life. The Warlord on his red dragon would not leave until their civilisation had been scoured from the face of Faerun.
*
A hundred sences like this came to Yami.
Death.
Torture.
Strife.
All of it came to Yami Shadowblade sooner or later.
Yami opened her eyes, claws of agony squeezing her skull. It came as no surprise that it was nighttime. Her vision always took longer than they seemed.
Yami had had these vision for as long as she could remember.
Which wasn't long.
It had been five years... Five years since she had woken. A storm was raging across the sky, rain lashing like a whip down onto the earth, lighning tearing dancing amoungst the clouds and thunder answering with its menacing rumble.
She had woken in the mud... her mind a blank... her memory gone... All she had was a sheathed katana, sharing her muddy puddle. It had felt... right to take it.
She had wandered through the storm, detached from the world... the cold... and the wet until two Red Wizards of Thay and their four apprentices had captured her... at least they tried to.
The magic had... failed... Burning Hands, Magic Missle, Fireball, Finger of Death, Entangle... none of the wizards's spells had succeed and none had survived that night.
She had waited out the storm in their tower and when it abated she took with her one of the wizards's experiments, a grey horse with red eyes and fangs.
Her first vision (at least the first one she could remember) had come sooner after. The pain that accompanyed it had been weaker then but still enough to incapatitate her.
She'd travelled Faerun ever since and had become the stuff of legends.
In combat no one could touch her... She had not recieved a scratch in five years of fighting... even though she shuned armour.
Yami placed a hand on Marwolaeth's hilt, taking comfort in the familar touch of metal. She leant against Ceffyl's side, waiting for the agony to abate.
*
Yami Shadowblade walked into the lake, relishing the sting of the cold water. Anyone who was willing to risk Yami's wrath by watching would have puzzled over how she could possibly be the Shadowblade.
They would however comment on her slight frame, pleasing curves and waist- length hair.
Yami was washing the dust of travel out of the formentioned hair when a sharp whinny from Ceffyl drew her attention back to the shore.
Her horse had been bound tightly with ropes that held dispite his struggles. A mage- a Red Wizard of Thay if his long scarlet robes were anything to go by- surrounded by five warrior clad in jet-black plate mail and armed with two handed swords. They had shed their helmets and were looking on in blatant interest.
Yami turned to face them.
How dare they try and watch her! People this dim-witted should not be allowed to live. She took some comfort in the disappointed looks that crossed their faces when they saw that her hair obscured her body but that vanished when she saw that they had her clothing and katana.
"Yami Shadowblade?" the mage called out across the lake.
Yami raised one eyebrow,
"Indeed."
"We have been instructed to bring you back to our stronghold. Come with us peacefully... and no one will have to be hurt."
"No."
"Miss Shadowblade, while our master may prefer you captured alive we can also bring you back as a corspe."
"I would like to see you try," Yami's emerald eyes glittered. She was ready for a fight.