[Mkguild] Running Wild (part 1 of ?)

[Joshua Coene]

Posted this one to the forums, but figured I'd sling it out in here as well.

Running Wild

It felt like he'd been running forever.



His feet ached.  His boots had been worn out long ago, soles worn completely
through in places and dangerously thin everywhere else.  They'd been
well-made, but that only went so far.  It certainly didn't go through
several streams, miles of difficult terrain far from anything resembling a
road or trail, at least one swamp (he'd lost count) and several mountains.  His
tunic and trousers were also torn, with numerous small holes from branches
and thickets, spots of blood marring the once fine fabric where the
scratches went deeper than just holes in his clothes.  Occasionally, larger
tears in his clothes gaped open, flapping slightly in the breeze as he ran,
his breath coming harshly to his throat.



The runner stumbled, crying out in pain as he trod on a sharp stone, feeling
it far too well through a hole in the sole of his boot.  Picking himself up
quickly, he stifled any further noises and ran on through the forest,
limping now and leaving spots of blood behind on the forest floor..  Though
he looked rather young, the man's age was impossible to determine for
certain, his almond-shaped eyes a deep gold underneath slanted brows, with a
fey cast to his features.  Dirt smudged his finely-boned face, his long
fingers scratched and bloodied, fingernails broken and worn down to nubs.  As
his long, raven-black hair blew back away from his face, it revealed the
fine points of his ears.



He stumbled for a second time, tripping over a half-hidden root and hitting
the ground hard.  He rolled, snapping off several arrowshafts protruding
from his back and drawing a strangled cry of pain from the man.  He quickly
rolled off of his back once more, scream dying down to a whimper as the
motion twisted the arrowheads still lodged in his back.  Another whimper was
dragged from him as he pushed himself back up to his feet and began running
once more.



The mad run went on for hours more, moon shining down through the trees,
sending down dappled shadows onto the ground.  Bars and patches of shadow
ran over him as he ran, highlighting his skin a brilliant white, the light
of the full moon making his skin and his eyes almost seem to glow with fire,
hair shining black$B!D(Bblood staining his shirt gleaming damply black.



As he ran, he trod on another stone, except unlike the first, this one
turned beneath his foot, pitching him down to the ground once more.  He hit
hard, his head impacting on yet another stone.  As darkness overtook him, he
just hoped that his pursuers wouldn't catch up while he was unconscious.



$B`\(B



Through the blackness, voices seemed to penetrate every once in a while.  He
wasn't sure which were real and which weren't, images swimming up at him,
and then fading as well.  Faces he knew that he couldn't possibly be seeing
now, strange faces he didn't know, past, present, and future all blending
together.



"Here!  Over here, I found something!



"God above, he looks terrible.  I think he's dead$B!D(B"



"Well, at least we know what they were chasing now."



"No, wait, he's alive!  See, he's breathing!"



"Gods!  Get a stretcher over here, we need to get him back to the Keep!"



"Don't jostle him, keep him steady!"



Hands closed about him, lifting him, and fiery daggers of pain drove through
his body, sending him spiraling down into the blackness$B!D(B



$B`\(B



"Hold him down!  He's struggling too much; I can't get the arrowheads out!"



"Can't he be unconscious for this?!?  Use a spell!"



"He's too weak already, lost too much blood!  If I magic him asleep, it's
more likely to send him back into a coma, or even kill him."



"Good gods$B!D(Bit's that bad?"



"Yes!  So quit wasting my time and hold him down!  I can't do anything to
heal the boy until the arrowheads are out."



It was almost enough to make him sit up and protest being called a boy.  He
was far out of the boyhood years$B!D(Bin fact, it was enough to make him protest.
At least until he felt the red-hot knives twist into him again.  He
screamed, voice already raw from unremembered cries, body writhing up
against several pairs of hands holding him down, grips tightening on his
arms and legs like iron.



All he could be thankful for was that the waves of the abyss closing in on
him again took the pain away with them.



$B`\(B



When he awoke, the first thing that he noticed was that he wasn't dead.  The
next was that he was in a brightly-lit room, in a bed$B!D(Ba soft bed, at that.  It
was functional, but the mattress had no lumps, and the sheets were smooth.  The
room was stone, and the window, though small and definitely an arrowslit
rather than a true window, it managed to light the room well.  Finally, he
noticed the person in the room with him, sitting near the door and reading a
book.



He had to say "person," because "man" would have been stretching the term,
and the person in the room with him certainly was not human.  He was
definitely male, his clothes and his bearing testifying to the fact, even if
the wounded man couldn't be certain from the body type.  Would a female fox
have breasts, even if she looked mostly human?  Because clearly, the person
seated next to the arrowslit-window was some sort of hybrid between the two.



Well, that at least made it clear where he was.  He'd made it to Metamor
Keep$B!D(Bor at least close enough that the Keepers had found him.  He tried to
sit up, then groaned as his head spun, dropping him back down onto the bed
with the soft thump of his body hitting the mattress once more.



Apparently that slight noise was enough to attract the attention of the fox,
whose eyes came up from the book he was reading to look over the bedridden
man.  "Oh, you're awake now, then?  Do you know where you are?"



He nodded before remembering his aching head, the wounded body part quickly
admonishing him for his foolishness, making him wince.  "Yeah$B!D(BI think so, at
least."  He cast a sideways glance at the fox.  "If this isn't Metamor Keep,
then I hit my head much harder than I thought.  Where did you find me?"



"One of the scouting patrols found a group of Lutins, looked like a raiding
party.  A strike from ambush wiped out most of them, sent the rest packing.
On the way back, they found you, out cold with that nasty lump on your head
there and three arrows in your back, one through the meat of your shoulder.
They figured it'd be better to pick you up and bring you back to the Keep
rather than leave you out in the cold."  The fox stood with a soft grunt,
the fur around his muzzle grey against the rest of his reddish orange
fur.  Maybe
he was older?  "'Course, that lends itself to several questions about you,
first of course being who you are, then what you were doing out there, in
the company of Lutins, running out of the Giantdowns as if the damned souls
from all the Midlands were chasing after you$B!D(B"  The fox's smile remained
friendly, but there was a certain tightness around his eyes that seemed to
belie that friendliness.



"Jael'anon Kawauso."  First question answered, at least.  "I was with a
caravan heading north$B!D(Bto here, actually.  Merchandise, supplies, some
medicines, the like.  We were attacked$B!D(B"  He trailed off with a groan,
putting one hand to his head.  It still hurt like bloody hell.  "I don't
know how many there were, but there were enough.  Those that they didn't
kill, they captured.  I think they slaughtered the horses and ate them.  No
clue what they did with everything else$B!D(Band I've got no clue what they
wanted with all those people.  More food, slaves, trade them with something
else, I don't know$B!D(B"  He trailed off again with a sigh.



"I escaped.  Ran away.  Didn't want to stick around to see what their plan
was.  Took the arrows in the back as I ran, but just kept running.  I
couldn't stop$B!D(Bif I stopped, they would catch up, and catch me, and they
wouldn't bother keeping around a prisoner who'd escaped once already, and it
would make a beautiful example for any other would-be escapees.  I knew that
if I just headed south, I'd come upon someone or something eventually.  If
not, I'd at least be out of the Giantdowns."  He realized he was babbling,
the story over, but words still streaming from his lips.  He was avoiding
something, he just wasn't sure what it was yet$B!D(Band when he figured it out,
his face crumpled, hands coming up to cover it.  "By the grace of all the
Gods, I just abandoned all those people$B!D(B"



The fox was sympathetic, putting a gentle hand (paw?) on Jael's arm.  "There
was nothing you could have done for them.  Don't feel guilty, there's no
point to it.  You did what you have to do to survive, to live.  You'll never
be proud of it, but there's no need to feel guilt for it."



Jael nodded slightly, though he was not really reassured.  Despite that he
knew there was nothing he could do for the rest of the people who had been
captured, he still felt as though he should have done something, at
least.  Still,
he was at least distracted from his morose thoughts as the fox began
speaking again.  "Anyway, my name is Alan Freeman.  Allow me to officially
welcome you to Metamor Keep, your new home."



"Wait, what do you mean?"  Jael's eyebrows came down, his brow furrowing
despite the fact that made his head pound a little harder.



Alan blinked.  "You've been out for nearly three weeks now.  When we brought
you in, you were at the point of death.  It was only by some miracle that
you survived that first night, and even though you lived, we weren't sure if
you were ever going to wake up.  You know you're at Metamor Keep$B!D(BI had
assumed you would have known that the curse would have settled in already."



"But$B!D(B" but that shouldn't matter to him.  He was a half-elf, despite his
attempts to hide it.  His Elven blood should have kept him protected from
Nasoj's curse, no matter how long he stayed here.  Shouldn't that have been
obvious when he didn't start changing after the first week or two?  Jael
frowned, one hand going to scratch an itch on the back of his neck...and his
almond-shaped eyes went wide in shock as he felt a patch of thick fur,
merging with his hairline at the nape of his neck.



Alan sighed softly, giving Jael's arm a gentle squeeze.  "Sorry, but no buts
about it$B!D(Byou're one of us, now.  As I said, welcome to Metamor Keep."
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://lists.integral.org/archives/mkguild/attachments/20070917/6dbf9ec6/attachment-0001.htm