NOT Malorn
Certifiable
Joined: 03 Nov 2004
Posts: 1920
Location: Everywhere
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 Posted: Thu Nov 30, 2006 1:21 am Post subject: Deliverance *Posted for Malorn* |
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Paranoia, fear, dejection; they were getting too wise and Enselno simply could not get everything right, and no longer held that desire. Already too many mistakes were made, and he was becoming too bold in slinking from character. Something was more than surely noticed, and no manner or quantity of cover-up was going to right a slip, a lapse in judgment. He had revealed too much of his true self, too much of Malorn, he knew.
It was time to change once again, and everything for it was perfectly in order.
The time finally, however, came as a complete surprise to Malorn. He expected, synonymous to his command, something public, and it was not until the arrival of a package at the meeting of Sanctus did he become suspicious… and ecstatic.
Preparing himself for the worst, if his request had been taken too literally., he hoped all would go for the better. An odd thrill set over him, one he was all too familiar with, as he began to pry the crate open in front of the gathered crowd.
The lid was displaced and noxious gasses filled his eyes and mouth, as miniscule darts filled with a paralyzing agent hurtled through the air, burying themselves inconspicuously into his torso. Violently, a subsequent explosion sent Malorn to his back and a deep coma, in all cognizance of the Sanctians, never to awake again.
They scrambled madly, in chaos, desperately searching for an escape, and answer.
Now they had felt his desperation at their cold, indifferent gazes towards him. All along knowing, in all likeliness, and never revealing their suspicions to himself. The joke was on them. Had he been able to laugh, he would have allowed burst forth a most boisterous, and elated guffaw. A deed was done.
***
An event then, which Malorn has been the subject of far too many times to record, occurred to pass him on into the spirit world.
His body was lain under a shallow layer of earth, ready to be expelled the very instant he awakened. A few mourners paid their respects and wishes, to walk in virtue.
And the world retreated for a time.
His thoughts stilled and fell away. Heartbeats slowed to one per minute, and he breathed nothing. Stasis weakened him, to be sure, though it would keep him from death for the time he would remain motionless.
Finally the tingling of his nervous activity returned.
He climbed forth from his grave and set off towards Blackrock Keep.
He took a piece of paper and quill and tacked a short letter to the floor. It read simply…
| Quote: | Much obliged,
I’ll be in touch |
…and was not signed.
The only thing left to do was create his character.
Jovrick Svnyr, he decided, was a reader of all things. He was born to a wealthy aristocrat and studied at the Lycaeum. He learned quickly the ways of life and people. He reads them almost as well as books. Well versed and thrilled to traverse the pages of hundreds of books. A simply grandiloquent man. He is to know of healing, the methods to go about, and is a jack-of-all-trades. He is not a very warlike individual, though the occult fascinates him… particularly the cultism surrounding the Cabalists of Zog. He would know more of them… firsthand.
A taller fellow, about 5‘ 10“, with an athletic build, although slightly scrawny, no more than 130 lbs, Jovrick has a gentle face. Spectacles adorn his eye region, and a soft brow accompanies. His eyes are pale hazel with a slightly, and disgustingly, yellow hue. A small beard protrudes from his chin, the only sign of facial hair, and his long redish-brown hair hangs flatly around his head. His belt holds an assortment of potions and a small sheath, with a dagger for protection.
Everything was for the better. |
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