Davaran Skyfire
Sage
Joined: 10 Feb 2008
Posts: 679
Location: Sanctus, The Kingdom Of
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 Posted: Tue Oct 28, 2008 12:40 am Post subject: "A disdaneful Growl" |
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Davaran held the letter in his hand, regretting tipping the messenger, he perused it once more.
| Quote: | A Note Delivered by messenger, Written on dried human flesh and written in blood....
Davaran,
Don't let it ever be said that Honesty is not rewarded, that love not used in time of need. Time should be cherished so i am told, especially with those you care about. As i'm sure you have noticed your dearest is not at home ...
nor is she to be found in Sanctus. You should be proud of her choosing, her release will not be to painful, but then how many truly know the effects of death in the shadow realm of ghosts and spirits? On the eve of the morrow, her complete dishonesty shall be taken from her and she shall suffer the fate of the anti virtues. her lack of faith in them has condemned her, tonight she stays in the dark forest, somewhere in the maze of vines and twisted lurking shadows.....
-D-
P.s.
if you wish some authentication to this not being a prank .. i am sure Bleys The calm can authenticate this letter for you.
5th Verse , 3rd Chapter of the Voice of the Fallen Shadows
An let honesty and dishonesty be purged unto the goddess of pain and the master of Evil , for in no other virtue can all emotion be truly twisted and bring torment to the blessed. |
Davaran Skyfire growls with a near inhuman anger, looking behind him to the house Cinnamara and he had shared for years, climbing the outer stairs he caught his daughter about to step into her room, his tone alone produced a shudder of compliance from her as he spoke.
"Take your brother's to Aunt Taramir, travel quickly and together, if you do not hear word from me on the morrow, there has been trouble, I'll leave a note in your Mother's dresser drawer."
Davaran watched from his widow as they sat off, he turned to his side of the bed, running his hand down his dresser, with a quick fumbling of keys he unlocked the drawer he'd never let Cinna peer into.
Moments later he frowned as he saw the contents, several old daggers, a tanto running long ways, a few shuriken, a mask, a few small velvet bottles and two tattered books. The tools of his former trade.
In times of dire stress, Dav fell back on his Ninja training, accepting it as part of him had been what made him so successful. He kept his uniform on, this was going to be a matter of respect, there are few things one does not toy with in life, the utmost being one's kindred.
Dav slipped on his gloves, pulling them tight, taking the time to hide the daggers on his person, pouring the gunpowder into his pocket, placing two bola discreetly hidden on his belt, he secured a final shuriken and prepared to disembark, recalling what Bleys himself had said about the shrines. Lord Commander was a rank attained with the withering and death of many others, the sick game of pain became well known to Davaran as he embarked for Honor gate, recalling a set of particularly thick Oak trees that sat due east.
It was a matter of respect, he thought to himself as he stepped thought their door, the respect of Cinnamara and Davaran's wedding and time. The few hours and discomfort of his wife Davaran intended to make this "D" pay for.
A man of virtue, a reserved man who knew his limits and the limits of respect, he did not intend to hurt the man if he did not have too, but the poison that lingered on his steal, the fire that could spark at any moment, and the hands that had been taught magery and Martial combat from birth were ready enough, to dispatch an enemy, or be dispatched with his wife. |
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