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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 10, 2006 23:25:40 GMT -5
Aleph entered the abandoned citadel and looked around. Just as he expected, the entrance hall was large and empty. Any signs of treasure here had already been cleared out. That was fine by him. It was almost guaranteed that there would be some riches on the higher levels. It just meant he would have to haul his loot a longer way. Not a big deal. And so what if it was rumored that this place was haunted? He'd come prepared. The priest at the chappel had been more than happy to supply him with a few bottles of holy water and a rosary for a very generous "donation" to the church. Any undead fiend that decided to attack Aleph would be very sorry. As would any other fiend, be it dead or alive.
As Aleph walked to the first set of stairs, he could hear the echoes of his footsteps bouncing about and creating their own echoes. As he started up the stairs, he found the silence was almost a bit disturbing. Or it would have been had it truly been silent. Unfortunately, it wasn't, and he could hear the creaking of the towers in the wind. This could end up being profitable, but far less than enjoyable. Even though he was prepared, Aleph was beginning to get a touch creeped out. If only he had a cleric with him.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 10, 2006 23:42:42 GMT -5
Ah, the citadel, how she admired it's architecture. Being here once before to examine the ones who could not pass to another life, it seemed to beg her return. Finally inside once again, and it was silent as a body without a soul, eerie as one with it's eyes opened.
Her eyes shut with the sound of what seemed to be someone walking inside, she listened, studying the repetitions.
Her hand gasped the material she wore of her long black dress, pulling it upward from the hip area, raising it above her ankles so that she may follow the walking figure. Although her thin heels could easily cause an obstruction she stepped with quiet placements.
Her right leg reached upward, her knee bending, reaching for the beginning stair. Her opposite and free hand reached behind her pale neck, bringing all of her hair, which was darker than the night, behind her small shoulders, and then to the railing, holding her balance as she would now continue.
She now could here mother nature's breath weave through the cracks in the stone and gust by the structure.
The serene stairs beckoned her farther upward, as if raising to the heavens, while her heavier steppes became louder. Her breaths too were apparent, her chest rising with force, the tight corset within her clothing, laced so tightly, her exhales just as powerful.
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 0:07:10 GMT -5
The sound of Aleph's foosteps and the creaking towers drowned out the sound of someone else's footsteps, but the sound of their breathing made it through. Aleph looked behind him, down the staircase, trying to find the source of the sound. His eyes rested on a young woman. How on earth could he not have seen her before? Now that he could see her, he could hear her footsteps. Odd how that worked.
He was unsure as to whether she was real or not, though. It was possible that she was a fellow treasure-seeker, or she could easily be a ghost. Either way, she would be standing in the way of his goal. He'd likely have to take her down. He started down the stairs, arguing with himself about whether or not to make it a fair fight and warn her first.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 11, 2006 0:15:31 GMT -5
This place seemed to suddenly become arid, the only sounds left, were her breathing and inside her mind, what she thought. Having to stop climbing the stairs, her supporting hand now over her chest, stabilizing herself, becoming faint.
She then noticed the other had ceased movement as well, she could feel someone was ahead. With a strong,g gasping, inhale, she looked upward, her eyes so dark they seemed as black as the small pupils, staring up, showing her the figure of a man. Realizing her breath as she looked at him, her tongue ran across her bottom lip, which became rough from the air she let out of her mouth, drying out the flesh.
A cough sputtered though her mouth before she could speak to him. Her hand grasped the railing once more, her eyes closing, her knees just barley stabilizing her. Her head feeling faint, she groaned in distress, the feminine corsetry inducing illness upon her as her body fought to breathe.
However, she had seen him, that she knew...
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 11:00:08 GMT -5
Perhaps this woman-ghost-treasure-seeker wouldn't be a problem. She looked as though she could barely stand. Or breathe. Well, that ruled out her being a ghost. Aleph hurried down the stairs. Rival treasure-seeker or not, he couldn't just stand by and let someone suffocate. Unfortunately, once he got down there and stood over her, he had no idea what had to be done. She didn't appear to be choking, and nothing was over her mouth. He crouched down next to her to get a closer look. "Well, it's obvious you can't breathe, but not why," he murmured thoughtfully, half to himself and half to the woman. He needed to do something and fast, since she looked as though she were dying, but he didn't know what he could do.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 11, 2006 12:56:42 GMT -5
While the stranger came beside her, she met his eyes with her own, worrying for her health as it seemed to continue to atrophy. If it were to end now, all because of a piece of clothing she was expected to wear and foolish choices, she'd damn herself.
Though, apparent, she had not been very physically active as of late. She had been inside a library reading and studying strange magics for so much time she had lost count of the days.
She could here his voice, though it seemed metallic, ringing off the insides of her head, the blink of her eyes acting to contrast her vision. She had only fainted once before, which was after being stuck heavily at her face. This encounter was nearly terrifying, this stranger could harm her farther.
Her knee, weakening, flinched, her moved, and the heel of her heightened shoe pushing instinctively backwards, falling down the step, though with luck, landing firmly on the one below.
"Those books, my energy, those books..stole my engergy..." her voice murmured, admitting those evil tome's power.
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 13:34:19 GMT -5
The books? What books? Aleph couldn't see any books right now. And even if he could, what did books have to do with her inability to breathe? Her answer made no sense. And if she couldn't help him figure out why she couldn't breathe, he couldn't do anything to help her. "Look, miss, I can see that you're having trouble breathing. Unless there's some invisible books on your chest weighing your lungs down, I don't see what books have to do with that. So unless you can tell me what exactly is keeping you from breathing, I can't help you," he told her. He likely came off a bit harsher than he meant to, but there wasn't really much time to waste in being kind ans courteous. If she was offended, tough.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 11, 2006 13:44:54 GMT -5
While hearing his words, she began to shake her head. The began to shun herself for expecting this man to understand her. He didn't seem like someone who would know such about evil books either.
"No.." she whispered between his last sentence and the one previous. "The books...in the library..." she paused to grasp air into her lungs. "They steal energy. Evil..."
It came so clear her addiction to the book with the hideous and demonic creature's face on its cover was not ordinary, it had been cursed. She had been above those stairs before, though not as weak. She always felt men could never understand the pain of wearing a corset, how it was a trial to learn how to breathe in them. A grand mixture for demise.
Her pale hand touched the laced up material, constricting her already thin body, now nearly emaciated from her personal neglect. She huffed a breath, she would never loosen the clothing in front of a man, she was too proud, much too proud for her own well being.
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 13:58:15 GMT -5
Why was she still muttering about books? They may have stolen her energy, but they hadn't stolen her breath, had they? Right now, he considered her lack of ability to breathe a greater threat to her well-being than some random evil book in some library somewhere. When she moved her hand, he looked down at it. She'd moved it so it was touching her corset. Was that supposed to be a clue? Was her corset too tight? If it was, he could try to help her with it, but until he was sure, he wasn't touching the thing. It would be most inappropriate, and would likely get him hurt.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 11, 2006 14:06:49 GMT -5
Collapsing slowly to her knees, she sat herself softly onto the stair, her back against the railing, staring up at the stranger. Her eyes closed for a moment, relaxing herself, as she did, a red flash infiltrated behind her eyes, she grew the opposite of the average fainting symptoms, her skin chilling with a breeze filling the room.
Upon opening her eyes, the disembodied moan of a soul unseen stretched its unworldly vox across the citadel. She turned her attention back to the man, his voice could not have made that sound, or had the book been diseasing her mind like worms crawling inside her brain, crazing her mad to believe she hears such things.
Realization struck her, literally across the face, a light slap was evidently heard against her cheek, and the flesh turned a light rose color. The books cursed guardians wanting never for eyes to read its pages, striking the one who has dared to look.
"They follow me..." she announced with a whispering tone, dripping of distress
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 14:25:06 GMT -5
When he heard the moan, Aleph's head whipped around. There was no one in here but them, right? Them and the ghosts, apparantly. He heard a slapping noise and turned back to the woman. There was a red mark on her face, as though she had been slapped. And her words were extremely cryptic, and creepy. This place was starting to spook Aleph. He pulled out a bottle of holy water and poured it in a circle around them. A rather shaky circle, as his hands were trembling. Then he pulled out the rosary and started saying Our Fathers. "Pater Noster, qui in caelus est, sanctus tu nomen est..." His voice fell as he continued the prayer. Hopefully that would help keep the ghosts at bay until he finished dealing with the woman, who he was starting to suspect was crazy.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 11, 2006 14:34:31 GMT -5
Beginning to laugh, she listened to his words, and watched him pray. With her hand still against the tight corset, and her other now at her throat, her breaths calming, she looked at him more sternly.
"Why dost thou pray, Sir? Is thou a holy man?" she asked him with a strange, mocking smile, "They art stronger than words." her voice roaming through the citadel, reverberating off of the walls.
Born into magic by blood and teaching, she knew much about the dead, and what they could do...and want. She had angered them by reading a book they felt was their own. Many possibilities came through her thoughts and explanations, although these days she barley had sympathy for people, it would be rude to have this man involved with her trouble...unless he was useful. With a sigh, she wheezed more breaths and spoke again,
"Perhaps they doth not know, they hath died." She added, her voice showing annoyance to the thought.
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 14:49:19 GMT -5
"...Tui regnum et potens et gloria est..." Aleph looked up when the woman interrupted his prayer. "No, I am not a holy man," he said, "but what other defense have I against the dead?" The answer was none, of course. He really should have brought a cleric. Or else he should have dragged along that priest from whom whe got the holy water.. Either one of those would be useful right now; the cleric for his talents, the priest just to bash over the head if the holy water didn't work. "If they don't know they're dead, how do we convince them of that fact?" he asked. It wasn't too hard to convince a living person that they were dead. When they looked down and saw his sword in their belly, they generally came to that conclusion on their own. But his sword would have no effect on ghosts. And he wasn't eloquent enough to try convincing them verbally.
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Post by DEMIGODDESS on Aug 11, 2006 14:58:22 GMT -5
With a groan and desperate throw of her neck to the side, her head looking downward, she let loose her throat, resting the hand on the stair.
"The books art cursed. Because I was born with magic gifts, they know just how to make me read such a book. Though others made me, the book hath old magics inside it's pages, never to be read again, I disturbed the book's secrets." The confession was sincere and strong, though she looked not at the man, and listened to another, yet more loud groan.
"They will take my energy so they can be stronger...Everything is so..difficult, I hath trouble with walking even long distances and..." Her hand which laid on the stone, she brought up to her chest as she spoke so quickly to loose a steady pace of breathing. "........They hate holy ones and holy prayers." she managed to tell him, warning him as if she felt the dead would kill her.
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Post by Aleph il'Aranroth on Aug 11, 2006 15:07:33 GMT -5
They hated what? Holy prayers? Why didn't she mention this sooner? As in, when he'd just started the prayer. Great. Now the ghosts were going to come after him and he had no defense against them! He was tempted to run away now and leave the woman to her fate. His sense of honor prevented that, though. "So if you know so much about them, why don't you know how to get rid of them?" he asked somewhat desperately. If he was completely ineffective against the ghosts, he had to hope that she could do something. He looked around, and couldn't see anything, even though he could hear the moans. If she hadn't come in, he likely would have made it through the citadel without any trouble.
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