I'm almost tempted to carry on with yesterday's Mejaran story with this prompt, but it feels unfair to expect people to hunt through multiple posts to find all the details :) So we'll just wander back to some guys who are a bit lost....
Volatile The bar was the only one in Narol and was normally quiet, almost sedate. The walls were dark with ancient nicotine and smoke stains and the floor, though cleaned daily, was sticky underfoot. The tables and chairs were dark wood, possibly as old as the building and were unsteady to varying degrees. There was a smell of boiled cabbage competing with the rather more fragrant roasted meat aroma, though if you went too close to the back door the latrine smell started to take over. The soldiers had bought dark beer and sat together at a table in front of the unlit fireplace. Jakov was smoking; his packet was already only two-thirds full. Next to him Szymon was spinning a coin on its edge, the steady thrub-thrub-thrub a background to their muted conversation. Kacper leaned back, draped over his chair like a jacket abandoned at the end of an evening, and watched the few other patrons who watched him back. "They'll find us," said Szymon, his eyes only on the coin as it spun. "They're dead," said Jakov. "We watched them die, remember? Dead men cast no spells." He crossed himself, a reflexive reaction that he wasn't even aware he was doing. "We've seen dead men walk," said Szymon. "Who knows what else they might do?" "They were old fools," said Kacper. He jerked upright, and the beer slopped in the glasses on the table, but just avoided spilling. "They were stupid, stupid old men. They deserved to die." He shoved his hands into his pockets, glared at his companions, and then sagged back into his chair. "Kac has a point," said Jakov. "They were old men. Their time had come." His left hand started to cross himself again, but he caught himself and stopped. "We're gone, and they don't know where we are. We're safe." Silence grew amongst them, and the coin that Szymon was spinning fell over and rested on the table. He picked it up and span it again, while Jakov drank his beer, and then tapped another cigarette out of the packet. "Grace," said Kacper, staring at the ceiling.
The mages bent forward, compelled by an outside power, and each rested both hands on the stone Witness in front of them. Immediately, for each, a voice started whispering in the back of their mind, reminding them that they were dead, they were useless, they were worthless, that their only purpose now was to channel someone else's power. It was enervating, and had they not already been dead it would have drained their will to live. As zombies though, they bore the onslaught stoically, and exercised their wills to bend the Power. And as they did, the yellow light of Carcosa spread out from the circle of stones.
[Volatile inspired the description of Kacper's behaviour, just in case you're wondering how the prompt worked today :)]
Greg - yeah, I should probably tag yesterday's prompt with Mejaran as well, just so it's easier to find later on, should the need arise.
Thank you for bringing us back to these three. I can't recall if you've named them before or not. I enjoyed the way you brought each of them to life here.
Though I'm not sure what the mages are doing is going to end well for... anybody.
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I'm almost tempted to carry on with yesterday's Mejaran story with this prompt, but it feels unfair to expect people to hunt through multiple posts to find all the details :) So we'll just wander back to some guys who are a bit lost....
Volatile
The bar was the only one in Narol and was normally quiet, almost sedate. The walls were dark with ancient nicotine and smoke stains and the floor, though cleaned daily, was sticky underfoot. The tables and chairs were dark wood, possibly as old as the building and were unsteady to varying degrees. There was a smell of boiled cabbage competing with the rather more fragrant roasted meat aroma, though if you went too close to the back door the latrine smell started to take over.
The soldiers had bought dark beer and sat together at a table in front of the unlit fireplace. Jakov was smoking; his packet was already only two-thirds full. Next to him Szymon was spinning a coin on its edge, the steady thrub-thrub-thrub a background to their muted conversation. Kacper leaned back, draped over his chair like a jacket abandoned at the end of an evening, and watched the few other patrons who watched him back.
"They'll find us," said Szymon, his eyes only on the coin as it spun.
"They're dead," said Jakov. "We watched them die, remember? Dead men cast no spells." He crossed himself, a reflexive reaction that he wasn't even aware he was doing.
"We've seen dead men walk," said Szymon. "Who knows what else they might do?"
"They were old fools," said Kacper. He jerked upright, and the beer slopped in the glasses on the table, but just avoided spilling. "They were stupid, stupid old men. They deserved to die." He shoved his hands into his pockets, glared at his companions, and then sagged back into his chair.
"Kac has a point," said Jakov. "They were old men. Their time had come." His left hand started to cross himself again, but he caught himself and stopped. "We're gone, and they don't know where we are. We're safe."
Silence grew amongst them, and the coin that Szymon was spinning fell over and rested on the table. He picked it up and span it again, while Jakov drank his beer, and then tapped another cigarette out of the packet.
"Grace," said Kacper, staring at the ceiling.
The mages bent forward, compelled by an outside power, and each rested both hands on the stone Witness in front of them. Immediately, for each, a voice started whispering in the back of their mind, reminding them that they were dead, they were useless, they were worthless, that their only purpose now was to channel someone else's power. It was enervating, and had they not already been dead it would have drained their will to live. As zombies though, they bore the onslaught stoically, and exercised their wills to bend the Power. And as they did, the yellow light of Carcosa spread out from the circle of stones.
[Volatile inspired the description of Kacper's behaviour, just in case you're wondering how the prompt worked today :)]
Greg - yeah, I should probably tag yesterday's prompt with Mejaran as well, just so it's easier to find later on, should the need arise.
Thank you for bringing us back to these three. I can't recall if you've named them before or not. I enjoyed the way you brought each of them to life here.
Though I'm not sure what the mages are doing is going to end well for... anybody.
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