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| − | '''Roleplay from Thers Lewinn'''
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| − | Recruitment had gone better than expected. The deep pockets of Port Nebel and the House Lewinn allowed Thers to spend where others may have sworn off. Yes, his unit’s cohesive element would dip, but how could he avoid that? <i>They’ll have to learn to get along, we have a war to win,</i> thought Thers. With a third of his original troop now dead between Raviel and Paisly, the thought of protecting the <i>feeling</i>s of his archers now seemed an asinine dream.
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| − | While his sergeant was busy with the task of finalizing contracts, Thers made a short trip back to Port Nebel. He avoided his family’s holdings – this visit was business only. His short jaunt to a local blacksmith had borne easy fruit; the elderly man knew what Thers was seeking soon as the young knight entered his shop. He left the smithy clutching a small sword. It was beautiful and intricate, although never destined for the rigor of combat.
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| − | Port Nebel’s Grove of Honor had unusual feature which scared Thers as a child. Hundreds of thin swords hung from the many branches of ancient trees which grew within the park. Their chiming in the wind was a haunting melody which carried over the wind. The memorials to the dead normally glinted in the sun, but the overcast clouds only added to the gloom of Thers’ task. <i>Ten generations of dead men. Twenty? There are more stories here than found within a dozen libraries.</i>
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| − | The death of Thers’ men in the battle for Paisly had affected him for several days. But losing three men to putrid infection on the voyage back to Port Raviel had added insult to injury. Madinean violence had a long reach and these last deaths had stung Thers’ heart as much as his pride.
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| − | Yet, the notion of prolonged combat against Medina <i>excited</i> Thers – the prospects for knightly distinction were never better than in times of war. <i>And it will begin again soon,</i>he thought. But it was also intimidating. Reimagining the wretched sights and sounds of fighting churned Thers’ stomach even as he pondered that recognition only victory could bring.
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| − | Thers found a branch with few of the steel memorials. Lashing the ceremonial blade to the tree, he then knelt and murmured a prayer for the D’Haran who perished as a result of Paisly. As he stood, Thers silently admired the lake at the center of the park. He knew he would return to this spot again.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha looked to her ringless finger with a small sigh. She had not removed it since Mathias had slipped it over her finger and kissed it. Now the emptiness of its absence was a feeling she couldn’t help without getting the ring back, but for that she would have to wait.
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| − | Walking through the halls of her mansion, she still had difficulty walking from her injury. She was grateful her Captain had pulled her away when he did, instead of only being an arrow through her leg, it would have been through her heart, and that she knew she would have never survived.
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| − | She made it to her office and stood before the large window, looking out to the East. Orders would be sent out very soon. Unfortunately this time she wouldn’t be making it to Paisly with the rest of the Black Lions, she would be delayed.
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| − | Shortly after she entered the office, Lorlan walked in behind her with a tray of warm food and a cup of liquid, she knew would be the dreaded concoction the healers had ordered she take. “Thank you Lorlan,” she told him as she reached the tray. There was fresh baked bread, freshly churned butter, a steaming bowl of vegetable soup and a small platter of rolled meats. She smiled as she examined it, she was so hungry today. But when her gaze fell on the meat, her hunger suddenly dissipated. She groaned as the queasiness hit her and her hand made it to her mouth. “Is there something wrong with your meal my Lady?” he asked and she closed her eyes shaking her head. “No…” she managed to whisper. “Please take away the meat” she said trying her best to get the words out, not looking at it.
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| − | Confused, Lorlan did as she asked and brought it back out to the hallway. When he returned, he looked at her with deep concern. “My lady, if I may be so bold. You are not looking well at all. First you can barely manage to keep your food down that’s when it makes it through your visual tests…” he touched her arm and she opened her eyes to look at him.
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| − | Sorsha nodded her head at him, “yes… I know,” she said quietly. “Until I know what is wrong, please tell no one,” she told him and sat at her desk. As quickly as the queasiness had come it left, and her hunger returned. She tore a small piece of bread and dunked it into the broth of her soup and ate it. “Mmmm,” she moaned as she ate and took a few more spoonfuls with her bread. “Best. Soup. Ever,” she grinned like a chipmunk, the food stuffed into her cheeks.
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| − | Lorlan couldn’t help but laugh at the comical expression she gave and left the room.
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| − | When she was done with her soup, true to his recent words, she lost some of it and when she faced Lorlan again, he shook his head but didn’t say anything. He was used to watching her in silence. Of course in the past he had taken it upon himself to contact Mathias when he felt she needed him. Somehow though, he didn’t think she would take to it lightly this time.
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| − | Afterwards, Sorsha then took to walking the halls restlessly. She wondered what was going on in Port Raviel, how Mathias was doing now, if he had recovered and was once more preparing to leave. She would also leave shortly, but first there was someplace she really needed to be.
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| − | Slipping on her dark cloak, she raised the hood and left her mansion…
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| − | As she entered, she slipped the robe she had been given on her previous visit here and lowered the hood over her head hiding her face.
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| − | The halls seemed empty, there was barely a sound to be heard…
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| − | Walking through the halls, she followed the path she vaguely remembered from memory and arrived to what she knew was a door. She slowly opened it and walked in… the room was incredibly bare.
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| − | Only a shadow of a memory remained as she tried to remember him there before her. Tried to remember the sound of his voice, his aura…
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| − | Sorsha closed her eyes as she reached the desk, she lightly touched the back of the chair and let out a trembling sigh. She kneeled beside it, as if all of her energy leeched out of her. The only thing she could ever get now when she tried to remember these things, were his last words to her. <i> I've stood against an entire realm for you…</i>
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| − | “Please forgive me,” she whispered to the empty room, and buried her face in her hands. She could never get him back now… she had given D’Hara what they wanted but had anyone really asked her what she wanted…? If only he hadn’t asked her to fight him…
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| − | Again the dark secret she had grown accustomed to keeping was weighing heavily on her shoulders, and in her heart and she cried for a long time. Trying to clean herself of the guilt, the heartache… always she did it alone.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | The dark, hooded figure watched her silently, grinning, savoring her despair. He stepped from the shadows, a magnificent, yet terrible staff in hand, the mere sight of it struck fear into the hearts of all but the boldest. He wore dark robes over his ornate gold armor. There were markings on the armor, obscene runes and leering daimon faces, which seemed to shift and writhe.
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| − | He spoke, his voice terribly reminiscent of Rathan's, "You sure do know how to replicate a man's feelings for you. He loves you, attempts to give you everything, gives up everything for you, and you dump his lifeless body out a window. Congratulations, a’thaisce."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha felt the presence behind her and stopped moving when she heard the voice. She quickly reached up to wipe her tears and slowly looked over her shoulder. When she did her eyes widened and she moved back at the menacing presence. At his last words, her heartbeat accelerated and she held her breath. Only Rathan had ever called her that. It couldn’t be… The evidence of her despairing grief was stained on her cheeks and she tried with avail to wipe them away and moisture filled eyes looked up.
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| − | “You’re dead,” she said in a fearful whisper and moved back further, only to move against the desk with no where else to go. “I…” she looked down to her hands as they had started to tremble uncontrollably. And then as if still in a nightmare, she could see his blood on them again. “No…” she moaned in a heart wrenching plea and closed her eyes. “You’re not real, you’re not here,” she told herself, and pressed both hands to her head to block out the image. “Please stop tormenting me, Kaylan,” she said, truly thinking she was in one of her horrific nightmares. “I loved him and they all left me no choice… I told you that!”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | He laughed coldly, the sound sending chills up her spine. He advanced towards her, slowly drawing a fell blade, pitted and scarred.
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| − | "I am not your kinsman. I am Ahriman." he growled, and grabbed her by the throat, the cold steel of his gauntlet digging into her throat as he glared at her. He examined her for a moment, lifting her off the ground before dropping her.
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| − | "How dare you..." he growled, having learned of her condition.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | As he lifted her off the ground, she held on to his hand with both arms, too shocked to react. Her vision blurred and she saw spots and he growled at her before dropping her back to the ground. With another growled question.
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| − | She didn’t know what he was talking about and she coughed, kneeling, holding herself up with her hands and she looked up again. Her blue eyes flashed hatred and she sneered. “How could I what?” she spat. “Kill him?” she tried to regain her composure. She couldn’t let anyone know how she truly felt deep down, especially not now.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "Kill him and conceive the child of his enemy. Two hearts beat within you."
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| − | He put the tip of his blade to her throat.
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| − | "Your choice as to how many hearts stop beating."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | <i>Two hearts?</i> she thought and looked up, just as he put the blade to her throat. She closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer, how could she not have known…
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| − | She looked up defiantly her nostrils flaring. “Neither, how sure are you that it’s his enemy’s seed and not his?” she asked, her face transforming to one of seriousness, now watching this… Arhiman.”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "Do you really want to know?" he snarled... "Of course you do..."
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| − | He reached up and slowly lowered his hood, enjoying the look of shock on her face. Rathan's face stared back at her own.
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| − | "Because, you never loved me enough. I was never important to you. Well, I should say Rathan was never important to you. Rathan is dead... Ahriman is what remains."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | She could only stare at him, her mouth slowly opening with shock.
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| − | Her eyes examined his face, making sure it was really him, a part of her wanted to get on her feet and hold him, beg his forgiveness but the other knew she couldn’t do this. She understood his words, she was afraid of the look in his eyes, not to mention the blade still at her throat.
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| − | “You both made me choose,” she said tonelessly. “And I chose… Rathan was as important to me as he is...”
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| − | Her hands balled into fists now, protectively cradling her stomach. “How many times shall I die, to appease the people in my life? How many times must my choices be taken from me?” she said, her eyes pleading with his.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | He let the blade fall to the ground, and gripped her throat tightly, but not quite tight enough to choke her.
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| − | "What did he ever do for you that wasn't born of selfish desire? Even now he ignores you!" he roared, bringing his face up to hers. "You've never died... I have. No one stabbed you through the heart, and threw you from a tower, leaving you to rot. I'm DEAD! I'm here from the Netherworld, where you sent me!" he screamed into her face, his rage obvious.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha again closed her eyes as he tightened his grip on her, holding on to his wrists with a feeble attempt at pushing him away. How could he possibly know how Mathias was treating her now? The thought fleeted quickly and she tried to focus on his gaze. The terrible aura surrounding him.
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| − | She tried to speak but she couldn’t get any words out. The Netherworld, like her brother, dead. She had known…but it was different hearing it.
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| − | Her eyes filled with tears and he continued to rage in her face. Her insides were beginning to burn, her eyes were becoming empty, she could feel herself losing her grip on her emotions, they were slipping away into the void… One of her hands slipped and she balled into a tight fist. “Let…me…go,” she hissed dangerously.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "As you wish." he said, pushing her into the desk.
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| − | "I would have given you everything. The world on a silver platter. Now... You carry the curse of my blood on your hands. Everything you love will burn. D'hara is done for, Cenarious will die before your very eyes... As will Kish, and Mathias. I just have one question... Why?"
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | She slammed into the desk and picked herself up off the floor. “I was cursed long before you came into my life Rathan,” she said tonelessly, now embracing the void completely. The recent tears had all but dried up and she stood once more, to face him. “This was just another choice I was forced to make…”
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| − | “What did you come here to do? Kill me in turn? Threaten me with empty promises? Is this your last gift to me? What do you want from me?”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan closed in on her and kissed her, his lips cold, and dead.
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| − | "I just want you to suffer as I have. You can stop shutting yourself in now, let yourself out of that shell, or I'll have to crack it open." he said, balling and unballing his fist.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha felt his lips on hers, as cold and dead to the touch as she was in the void.
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| − | Her eyes then locked to his, “She already suffers… every moment she endures is pain.”
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| − | No one had truly understood her reasons for going into the void, the fact Rathan was calling out for her, surprised her immensely. “What more could you do to her that she hasn’t already done to herself?”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "Plenty." he growled, pulling away from her and digging in the desk. He pulled out a vial and grinned sadistically. He uncorked the vial and slowly approached her.
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| − | "Drink this, you'll awake in the morning with no memory of this... Or I can just make it so you never wake up."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha closed her mouth tightly and backed up. She covered her mouth and shook her head. She didn’t want to forget it, she didn’t want to continue thinking he was no more, when she had clearly seen him, to go on with the unbearable anguish and guilt was unthinkable now. Although, he was different now, mercy seemed alien to him, especially with the sadistic grin he was projecting at her.
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| − | Her eyes burned hate at him and she glanced to the direction of the door. She wondered how quickly she could run away and escape from him, given the chance.
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| − | She kept backing up and she tripped over the chair and fell to the ground. When she did, he stopped advancing to watch her pitiful motion, that’s when she took the chance and scrambled off the ground and through the door.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | He darted after her, his inhuman speed allowing him to catch her in short order. He backhanded her and laughed as she fell to ground. He drew a long knife and towered over her.
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| − | "Time to return the favor. Shame I don't have a tower to throw you out of."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha groaned as he backhanded her and she fell back to the ground. Reaching up she touched her lip, tasting the blood in her mouth. Her eyes were still empty but she felt the sting. Not from him hitting her, the fact that she had done the same thing to him not so long ago. He hated her, and she had driven him to that hate. He wanted to kill her, and he was right, he was only returning the favor.
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| − | Weakly she kicked her feet out to sweep his from underneath him, and immediately turned again, this time rushing down the halls. She couldn’t remember where she was going, panic was making her so disoriented. She then ran up the steps, and out down another hallway, hearing him behind her. She was almost there. Not only was she saving herself now, but she was also cradling a life in her womb, despite the void her eyes filled with desperate tears and she put a protective hand over her stomach.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | He sneered as she fled, he knew where she was headed, and gave chase, then he slipped into another passage, and stepped out in front of her as she desperately ran for what she thought was freedom. He laughed at the look of terror in her face and lunged, his blade aimed for her belly. He smirked as the blade neared, and appeared to enter her abdomen...
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| − | He gasped as the blade passed through her harmlessly, and he looked down at himself, he appeared to be caught in a windstorm, and was fading. He gave an anguished howl, and looked her in the eye, a look of sorrow on his face
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| − | "Why did it have to be this way, a thaisce?" he whispered sadly.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the burning sensation, the agony of his blade as it pierced her abdomen but it never came. Together they gasped as one and then she looked at him, he seemed to evaporate in a shimmer, a howl of pain escaped his lips, and his face filled with an emotion she knew only too well.
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| − | He whispered to her and she locked eyes with him, “because…our love…is forbidden,” she whispered back with moisture filled eyes, and he disappeared.
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| − | She then quickly touched her abdomen. All of her panicked strength then ebbed from her limbs and she crumpled to the ground with heart wrenching sobs. Confusion set in, how could he be there…Was he truly dead? If not then… dark magicks, she thought quickly and buried her face in her hands. If he was alive, he was the only one who knew of her condition. She had to protect the life in her womb at all costs.
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| − | Sorsha stumbled out of the door and fell to the ground in a heap of tears. She looked behind her, making sure she was still alone. Her breathing ragged, her heart still racing in her throat, she tried to get up.
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| − | She had just witnessed the impossible, been faced with the worst type of fear, and now her legs could barely hold her up as she pushed herself off the ground. Reaching up, she wiped the blood off her lips and cheek, and closed her eyes again.
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| − | She had gone to a forbidden place, somewhere she knew she shouldn’t have gone, but she needed to rid herself of the pain… the guilt of having killed Rathan, only to have come face to face with the man himself. At least it was what she had thought, until he whispered to her that he came to see her from the Netherworld. She couldn’t understand how it was possible, but it had all been real enough, when he had grabbed her by the throat she had felt it, when he backhanded her across the floor, she had felt that as well, she looked down to the blood on her hand. The blood was real, so was the sting of it.
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| − | But it was what he had told her that shocked her beyond belief, the moment he approached her, he had known. He had heard two heart beating within her, she was with child…She was pregnant with Mathias’ child. The thought made her put a hand on her abdomen, as if protecting the innocent life within.
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| − | She had fought him off as best she could under the circumstances, but he had closed in on her, and tried to pierce her abdomen with his blade, only to disappear into a whirlwind of nothingness. With every effort, she ran, her leg still giving her difficulty.
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| − | She eventually managed to make it back to her mansion, and when she did she locked herself up in her chambers. She knew she needed to get to Paisly, but she was afraid to leave. She knew she had to tell Mathias what had occurred…but how? He would never believe her, no one would. Was she losing her mind and believing her nightmares reality? She was beginning to doubt her sanity.
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| − | When she finally managed to pull herself together, she left Nebel, made way through Port Nebel, took a ship to Port Raviel and finally made her way to Paisly. She wasn’t looking forward to her meeting with her husband. How was she going to explain the horrible cut across her mouth? Everyone knew she had stayed behind in Nebel for days, far from the fighting. To arrive there with a bruise, would be too strange not to question.
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