Friday, July 1, 2016

Two days of Thyne

Better than Thyne

Desmond spent several hours of the moonlight scanning over the parchment found upon the deceased sorcerer’s attire.  After deciphering the note he sat pondering the meaning and implications of the scroll eventually sinking into sleep. In the wicker chair at his study, his dreams malformed to Shamus and his condescending tones and expressions.  Moments of the interaction repeated, each time the expressions increased in intensity.  The animosity built to anger with the passage of the dream loop, and was accompanied by a dark voice.  "In ashes, retribution in ashes," the draconic voice repeated over and over.

The burning light of the morning sun cast upon Desmond.  He awoke unaware of the dreamscape of the previous night with an overwhelming desire to pursue Shamus.  He tried to ignore the urges deciding to visit a local engineer to inquire about the workings of the local town elevator.  His visit was short and unsatisfying as the Dwarven Engineer shrugged him off with distain.

He became overwhelmed with the urges and soon found himself at the foothills of the Keep silently watching Shamus at his post.  Hidden in a nearby tree line he spied until Shamus retired from his post and journeyed home.  Night loomed upon the guard’s cottage.  Desmond sat in silence until whispers of a dark draconic voice enveloped him, again piercing his thoughts, “IN ASHES, RETRIBUTION IN ASHES.”  Fire leapt from fingers setting the doorstep ablaze.  The fire pirouetted across the homestead filling the sky with black smoke. 

In that moment he was shifted into his distant memories. His childhood cottage burning, and the fire crackling across the dry grass field.  He felt remorse.  Again, the draconic voice echoed through his mind, “Retribution.”  He could feel his body morph; he had become the Thynian coin master.  As he stepped out of the shadows he could see several town folk running toward the cottage.  They began to yell at him as Desmond turned and ran into the forest to hide. 

That night, at Ringo Jacks, Desmond lye in his bed awake.  The images of fire burnt through his mind.  Visions of his mother’s murder and his burning cottage plagued him as well.  His body ached with feelings of loss and remorse.  Against his better judgment he decided he would meet with the famous vampire hunter in town and query of the desolation. With the bombardment of emotions and images from the night before Desmond felt compelled to pursue answers.
Walking into Sir Ganstan’s chambers Desmond promptly regretted the decision.  Ganstan could sense his undead half and aggressively began interrogating the Dhampir.  Desmond was taken off guard and stumbled across his words.  Something compelled him to speak truth of his origins and of his past, which he had never spoken to anyone.  Sir Ganstan advanced to then accost him and beguile him by calling him an abomination.  Telling him he we need to atone for his very existence.  Desmond was stunned and speechless, he knew that he had walked into a perilous situation.  He proceeded to agree to prove himself of value to the paladin by completing a mission at Sir Ganstan’s beckon.

Desmond exited the chambers shaken and irritated.  “Atone for my existence,” he thought.  “Does a fisherman atone for the fish he kills or wolves for the hare they devour?  I am Dhampir.  The predator to the prey.  Atonement for what I am is irrational, for I am better than thy.”  

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