Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20160815191145/@comment-5543592-20160816225346

Psychomantis108 wrote: Agatha fell forward, with an 'oof', collapsing on top of Jude as the healing spell cut out, along with her consciousness.

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Talin looked at the cleaver beforel ooking upwards.

"Would be great if we had a mage who could do a telekenesis spell." Talin sighed. (Sorry, wiki didn't show me any of you guys posted aside from Emma)

A khajiit stood over Agatha's unconscious form. He lifted her up onto his shoulder, saying nothing, and walked out, leaving Jude where he lay.

"Are you guys freaking serious?" Scire asked. "That's insane.  Don't cut your hand off."

He looked at them both. "Really?  We're doing this?"

“What’s the matter, Dark Knight?”   Daireg’s voice suddenly echoed throughout the room, coming from somewhere nearby now, but unclear exactly where. She'd found him at last, or at least was very close.

Lightning crackled outside, lighting up the room, outlining ancient, dust covered furniture that dotted the floor, which Miri would find herself bumping into in the darkness. The building groaned as the volcano shook, giving one the sense of unseen things moving around them.

“No witty comeback?”

Two magelights popped to life across the room with a click each as they hung in the air, each suspended at outside ends of a wall.

“No threat?”

A line of magelights popped up all over, along the floor, and along the top end of the wall. The combined light of them all revealed a stage. The background was that of a peaceful green meadow, masterfully painted. A lone Khajiit stood in the stage’s center, his eyes a dull sheen, head bowed. He was dressed in a plain gray clothes and wore an apron, which was splattered with dark stains.

Somewhere in the theater, a chair creaked as Daireg leaned forward to watch with intent. “Then I’ll provide the narration."

“This is Be’kow. He will be the actor. You might like him, you have lot in common. Including idiocy. And foolishness. Be’kow is not intelligent, but he is loyal, and an exceptionally talented fighter. He was trained from birth to fight, instead of being taught to speak, so that he might anticipate battle as a language of its own.”

Be’kow reached down to his feet and picked up a title card that read:

A Play Starring Jude and the Torture Utensils

“And he’s very good at hurting people.”

Somewhere, Daireg cracked his knuckles.

“I’ll begin with how I peeled back the layers of the boy’s mind.”

Be’kow walked to the side of the stage and pulled two props out of the dark: a wicked looking knife in one hand and two pairs of calipers in the other. Wires extended down from the grips of the calipers.

“Oh, he bravely tried to fight it at first.”

He set them down on the ground where his title card had been, and then reached back out into the dark, before pulling a stretcher onto the scene. Agatha was on it, held down by leather straps, and had been hastily dressed for the play. Her hair had been doused in red paint, and her cheeks had been painted blue. A pained expression had been drawn on her unconscious face using charcoal, but she seemed otherwise unharmed.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You would’ve been proud to see him so strong…”

<p class="MsoNormal">Be’kow attached a caliper pair to each side of the stretcher, and then reached out and roughly grabbed the doll. He began to shake it violently, miming electrocution. Then he picked up the knife and mimed cutting motions first over the doll’s body, then its face. He made a goofy expression as he did it, as if to display mock enjoyment.

<p class="MsoNormal">“But all too soon the serums and the shocks took their toll, and the dear lad began to share such secrets with me.”   Daireg’s tone grew smug and husky. She could feel his eyes on her. “Secrets that are mine alone to know… Mericydia.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s true, Miri!”   Daireg continued. “I know everything. And kind of like the child who peeks at his name day presents, I must admit, it’s sadly anti-climactic.”   He admitted in a somber tone. ”Beneath all the dynamism and sword-swings, you’re just a little girl in a play-suit, crying out for mommy and daddy.”   He intoned mockingly.

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’d be funny, if it weren’t so pathetic!”   He shouted down to her.

<p class="MsoNormal">He pursed his lips and considered for a moment.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, what the hell. I’ll laugh anyway.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Daireg threw his head back and gave a delighted laugh, demonstrating just how much contempt he had for Miri, but also revealing his location: an easily reachable box seat high up on the wall of the theater.