MarieElana wrote:
Anubis wrote:
Anubis wrote:
Gandesha's northern outskirts were sheltered woodlands, with large mansions, home to the city's wealthy citizens with mostly mayope trees and golden streams. Beyond that was hilly farmland, and the start of the Gimloin River.
The moon cast an enchanting light on the streams, as Sindri stalked through the night, towards Grosling Manor, in search of something much more than a mere trinket, and no-one was going to stand in his way.
The massive hedge was a pathetic barrier.
Sindri pulled a small bottle of grade 3 plant poison out of his sturdy bag, and splashed it onto the hedge in front of him. The hedge began to turn black, and started shrivelling towards the ground. The hard branches rotted away, and within one minute, all that remained of the hedge was a pile of black leaves and goo. Sindri walked straight through where the hedge used to stand tall. The mansion was about 40 metres away from that point, and the 19 year old Black Mage crept silently towards the back door...
Sindri had now reached the only apparent back door of the manor. He gave it a nudge, and it felt soft, but it did not move.
He pulled a bewitched skeleton key out of his pocket, and attempted to unlock the door. Upon one twist, the door was unlocked, and Sindri proceeded through the house, with an air of deadly silence. It was quiet, as expected, and the mage crept along, opening and closing doors in his path. The particular artifact Sindri was after laid somewhere in the house's cellar. He tread carefully through the large hallway, past grand paintings of artists long dead, and found the cellar door, a well-polished brown colour, which was, yet again, locked. One flip of the key, and the door was free, exposing an inpenetrable darkness.
Sindri cast a flame spell with his left hand, and kept it burning to light the way. He lit the candles along the staircase, and reached the bottom of the stairs. He could have used a crystal torch, but he needed his hands free.
The Black Mage drew his sword after lighting the first chamber, a wine and food cellar. Beyond that was what he had come for, sealed off by a magic stone door...
For a time Marie found herself beyond the door, trapped by this magic that encased the stone. An artifact kept this room in such a state of isolation, as if cut off from the rest of the world. When such a child appeared within it she found herself trapped, and panicked. For hours she feared starving and suffocation, and out of desperation she turned to the magic to keep herself alive. As she threw herself upon this strange vaguely described artifact it seemed to accept her, but now wanted yet another vessel aside from the room to keep itself out from harm's way.
So it took Marie in as its host, fading away into her body. As she felt it disappear the sense of hunger and shortness of breath lost instantly and she felt herself with the strength to leave. However, the artifact did not want her out of the place. It turned against the unsuspecting youth, trapping her in its own magic. Crystal grew around her, keeping her in place until it encased her own body. Now she was kept suspended inside yet another prison of magic in suspended animation, awaiting someone to set her free.
((character looks like this-
http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b268/ ... weater.png Also I hope this isn't too much of a powerplay))
Irial, lost, tired, muddy, and in a bit of a bad mood, looked upon the deserted manor with an approving eye.
This'll do, she thought to herself.
Reasoning that entering through the front door would be a lot more trouble that its worth, Irial decided to scope all four sides of the building. Perhaps she could gain entry through an unlocked window. Irial noted, however, that the windows were far too high up for her slight form to climb through.
In a quick, rash, and rather stupid moment, Irial climbed up a scraggly tree besides a darkened window, and the tree promptly began to fall over, taking Irial with it.
Irial screamed, and buried her face in a needly branch as she and the tree crashed through the first story window.
After the inital shock of crashing through a window wore off, Irial stood up, picked several pieces of glass off of her apprentice uniform, and tried to find out what room she had managed to enter.
It was a small study of sorts, with dark mahogany bookcases on all four walls. The thick red carpet matched the curtains that were lying on the floor. Despite the fact that one wall was partially missing, the room was by far more beautiful than anything Irial had seen in her life. She stood still for several seconds, transfixed with awe, until she heard footsteps down the hallway, apparantly approaching her.
Maybe the manor wasn't abandoned after all.
_________________
I'm like an opening band for the sun.
-Pearl Jam
Apathy is not a vice, it is a relieving and downright enjoyable life-choice.
07 Mar 2007, 11:47 pm
