12-22-2005, 07:34 AM
((This is a very short snippet of a story from a character that -very few- of you have met yet...but it has been itching to get out for awhile now. This is not from either Men'ka or Zarraema's perspectives.
Keep in mind, this is only the very beginnings of the story, I can't quite manage to put pen-to-paper on the rest of it, yet. Enjoy! -poZema))
Hoarse, tortured screams halted abruptly and echoed through the room where a young orc woman lay bound to a table. Her bold vows not to let her captors hear her cry out had long been forgotten. What was once a strong body lay broken and bleeding, surrounded by vials of various chemicals, powders, and magical talismans. Tears, blood, and some vile blue liquid dripped from her eyes as she weakly pulled at the bindings, waiting for her life to finally end.
She had long-since lost hope that the spirits would hear her pleas and release her to her end. She knew the orc who had her, knew that those that entered his âââ¬ÃÅcareâââ‰â¢ were never seen again; used in deadly experiments, or sacrificed to the demons for some base purpose.
Strangely enough, her shrieks of pain had not signaled the end of her life. Cold-hot pain seared through her as the delicate skin at the base of her throat had been flayed opened. Her tormented mind could not fathom why she could no longer scream as the copper tang of blood filled her mouth. Breathing became a whole new agony as she fought to keep her senses. The orc hovering over her spoke, but her hazy mind could not conceive of what the words meantâââ¬Ã¦ and then, nothing.
Ages or mere moments passed as she lay there, waiting for death to come; time meant nothing as her life slowly flowed away though the numerous incisions that crossed her flesh. She wasnâââ‰â¢t sure if sheâââ‰â¢d lost consciousness or if her tormentor had tired of his work for the moment, but somehow, she knew she was alone.
For the first time in her life, she felt abandoned by the spirits sheâââ‰â¢d learned to trust. It briefly crossed her mind that despair may be part of whatever sacrifice the demon lords demanded but she did not care any longer and stopped her struggling as she prepared for death to take her.
Through the cloud of her pain and hopelessness, she imagined that she heard voicesâââ¬Ã¦
ââ∠âIs she dead?âââ¬Ã
Keep in mind, this is only the very beginnings of the story, I can't quite manage to put pen-to-paper on the rest of it, yet. Enjoy! -poZema))
Hoarse, tortured screams halted abruptly and echoed through the room where a young orc woman lay bound to a table. Her bold vows not to let her captors hear her cry out had long been forgotten. What was once a strong body lay broken and bleeding, surrounded by vials of various chemicals, powders, and magical talismans. Tears, blood, and some vile blue liquid dripped from her eyes as she weakly pulled at the bindings, waiting for her life to finally end.
She had long-since lost hope that the spirits would hear her pleas and release her to her end. She knew the orc who had her, knew that those that entered his âââ¬ÃÅcareâââ‰â¢ were never seen again; used in deadly experiments, or sacrificed to the demons for some base purpose.
Strangely enough, her shrieks of pain had not signaled the end of her life. Cold-hot pain seared through her as the delicate skin at the base of her throat had been flayed opened. Her tormented mind could not fathom why she could no longer scream as the copper tang of blood filled her mouth. Breathing became a whole new agony as she fought to keep her senses. The orc hovering over her spoke, but her hazy mind could not conceive of what the words meantâââ¬Ã¦ and then, nothing.
Ages or mere moments passed as she lay there, waiting for death to come; time meant nothing as her life slowly flowed away though the numerous incisions that crossed her flesh. She wasnâââ‰â¢t sure if sheâââ‰â¢d lost consciousness or if her tormentor had tired of his work for the moment, but somehow, she knew she was alone.
For the first time in her life, she felt abandoned by the spirits sheâââ‰â¢d learned to trust. It briefly crossed her mind that despair may be part of whatever sacrifice the demon lords demanded but she did not care any longer and stopped her struggling as she prepared for death to take her.
Through the cloud of her pain and hopelessness, she imagined that she heard voicesâââ¬Ã¦
ââ∠âIs she dead?âââ¬Ã
...then again, my 'villan' has been absent for awhile 
))