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Post by Victim on Aug 14, 2012 16:22:48 GMT -5
It was evening.
In the darkness of long shadows and chilly mid-summer nights, a lone figure stamped through the Great East-West Road, his hooves pounding against the soft worn road and echoing through the somber evening. Overcast clouds blocked the light of the stars and the moon, and the sky was beginning to drizzle hazy ephemeral rain.
This figure was Sir Eres Lestcrafte, Lord Supreme Justice of the Imperial courts and legal system. A tall beast, the black-coated stallion horse was impressive on his pedestal in the palace courtrooms. The passing gaze of steep eyes was terrifying enough to frighten criminals into confession, and when he stood up, his looming frame was like looking up a pillar of solid obsidian rock.
Loved by the truthful innocents of Himaryn and detested by the dishonest, Lord Eres was a true chivalrous servant of the Empire. He had many enemies, but also many friends. This night, the stallion was currently en-route to visiting an old friend in Faralyn, now bed-ridden and ill with a severe cold. Lord Eres had received the tabloid in the middle of the night, and had set off immediately to pay a sick-visit to his dear companion. He hoped to arrive at the Landing by morning.
Of course, the Lord Supreme Justice was a stubborn figure and had told no one of his middle-of-the-night foray onto the Great East-West Road. Although his mate had constantly reminded him to be careful—that his bones were stiff and he was wasn't as young as he used to be—Lord Eres still believed himself to be the strong and noble stallion he was in his youth.
It would only be a quick night-long journey through the Phenca Sillicas, anyways. He had done this thousands of times before. What could go wrong?
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Post by <<WHISper>> on Aug 16, 2012 16:46:23 GMT -5
[bg=black][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true]
regular, speech, thoughts, other(s)
The darkness was whole and complete, thick like a blanket pulled over one’s eyes and ominous like a cold presence that couldn’t be shaken. The sky was empty and black, not holding a single trace of light. It roiled with anger and fury, upset about nothing in particular. Still it couldn’t get rid of the emotion that ate at it, causing this darkness to creep deep into the bones of any passerby’s. It boiled and boiled, the clouds crept in and over itself but still the thunder could not be released; the lightning refused to let some of the tension out. Energy folded in on itself, unable to be released and started tearing at itself like a caged beast. The potential energy and the danger thereof could be felt on the surface of skin, causing the hairs to crackle slightly with that power. Truly tonight was no night to be gallivanting about. Most creatures were in borrows, in hollow trees or in the caves to the north.
A deathly silence reigned, ominous and towering in its presence. A lonesome figure hovered underneath a certain blackened tree that seemed to stretch ever out towards the ghostly beast. He was blacker and darker than the night around him which was probably the only reason he could be seen. His mane drifted up in wisps of smoke. Horns of black stuck out at the sky like bony fingers, rising up from a skull of pure bleached white. No skin or muscle covered his face and his eyes were set within empty sockets, clouded and filled with anonymous emptiness. His legs vanished into wisps of blackened smoke as did his tail. In a way he was like the storm, tearing at himself until there was only a shell left and yet now only emptiness ruled within him. His eyesight was damaged but he could still see well enough to survive.
The beast stood tall, skull held high despite the storm brewing above and within him. He would need to let loose this brewing energy within him and soon or it would surely devour him from the inside out. Being a Kuma he was trapped within the emotions of his death and satisfaction came to him only when he killed others. Slowly his pistons propelled him towards the middle of the road, hooves never coming into view as only the smoky mist that originated from his legs could be seen, unblinking orbs fixed upon a nearing lone figure. If lips existed a scarce smile would have played on them. Instead only hateful eyes were exposed and a harsh bleached skull with sable horns. Quite the demonic sight,
“Please don’t run…”
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Post by Victim on Aug 21, 2012 17:35:47 GMT -5
There were creatures of the night.
Sir Eres Lestcrafte snorted as he rounded to a stop, blocked by the ghastly specter that materialized in the road. Disturbed indeed by the apparition, the Lord Supreme Justice felt the chills from monstrosity of the vision. He was not one such easily frightened or shaken by the talk of the Dead, and many of Lord Lesftcrafte's peers considered him stout and unwavering. However, in the heart of darkness, the nightmares of the underworld could strike chords in even the strongest of souls.
"Please don't run...""
This was a chill that penetrated the depths of the heart. Perhaps it was unapparent, as the Lord Supreme Justice was a courageous soul. But courage or apparent grit irregardless, Fear had set its insidious clutch on Lord Eres's fibrous chords of fate.
"Begone, evil spirit." He said, blazing and intense. "Leave this road and return to where you belong."
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