- Pridefall Hamlet, Revendreth..png (599.52 KiB) Viewed 2288 times
“But you are not dead, Ristikus. You still have time to... correct... some of your ways.”
Maneo, a tall and portly Venthyr stared down towards the elf as he spoke, a blended look of irritation and incredulousness curled over his features. The stocky dredger that was accompanying Ristikus spoke up, rocking forward on his toes while he talked as if to commit his small height and weight to his statement.
“An’ that’s what we’s told ‘em - but ‘e still demanded to see yas’, mi’lord!”
Ristikus glanced about the room, undeterred. His gaze fixed on a collection of blank slates, once used by so many souls to begin their long road towards atonement. That road he knew, was paved with their suffering and despair in search of some specter of forgiveness for a life of misdeeds. Now, dust hung over the slabs of rock like a delicate cloak just as it did their accompaniment of hammers and chisels. It had been some time since a new soul passed through here, he thought.
“I understand your hesitation, but despite my time still remaining amongst the living - I’m certain this is what must be done. Although I am still living, I have many sins to atone for. I come with the offerings of my allegiance in exchange for this one thing. While I will certainly commit more in my life, what’s it to you if I get a small head start on my sins that are already passed? After all, what’s a few years in comparison to an eternity?”
The Venthyr matched Ristikus’ gaze as he spoke, glancing towards the untouched slabs of stone in the corner of his chambers. He had to recognize what an unprecedented moment in time this was that they both now existed within. Not only have the souls of the dead recently ceased to enter into the plane of Revendreth, but now a mortal - a living one, at that - actually sought him out to make an early payment for the sins of his past. Maneo, inquisitive, allowed his look of irritation to slowly subside into something else. Ristikus now stared at his features, seeking an opening. He knew that this Venthyr was among the few creatures within the plane of the dead which might be capable of facilitating his request, and he was certainly the only one that hadn’t had a direct interest in killing him, yet.
Maneo approached the blank faces of stone, whipping his cloak to punctuate his approach - it’s fluttering echoing softly within the chamber. He extended a hand, carving finger-wide trails through the thin layer of dust and cobwebs that rested upon them. He the glanced over his shoulder once again at the elf.
“Your allegiance is all fine and well, Ristikus... But for a task like this, I must ask for a bit more in return.”
‘There.’ Ristikus thought, the corner of his lip almost failing him in the suppression of a grin. There was his opening in the Venthyr’s policy.
“My anima, then. I will infuse it with the very source that gives me life. Should I not properly atone for my misdeeds, my soul will be doomed to serve you in death for eternity.”
Maneo turned slowly, his eyes narrowing into focus - assessing the elf for motive, unsure. Ristikus spoke again, a sudden clear shift in tone apparent in his voice. Not one of demand, but more consistent with a warning.
“While I live, it will remain with whomever I wish. On this I won’t compromise. Upon my death however, should our terms not be met, I’ll be all yours.”
A hard stare from Ristikus returned the focus of Maneo, his heart rate picking up in anticipation of the Venthyr’s response. Bargaining reminded him of the lull that existed before combat, he thought. Perhaps, in another life, Ristikus would have made a fine trader or merchant - the exchange of offers and counter-offers resembling swordplay. While this duel would not be met with quite as sudden of an end, there was just as much at stake. More, even
Maneo quickly turned back to the stones, afraid his eagerness would be betrayed by his facial expressions. His very own soul. Surely the living could not atone for all their misdeeds in however long he had left on Azeroth, he thought; and if his life were perhaps... tragically cut short, the elf wouldn’t have a chance. He inhaled sharply, and exhaled slowly - calming himself. He reached for a slab of stone, carefully dusting it with the back of his hands. The thump of it’s weight hit the table adjacent to him, sharing its occupancy with a hammer and chisel.
“Very well, Ristikus. You, a living mortal, shall have your sin-stone. Your anima, with a smear of your own blood upon it, will be connected to the sin-stone for as long as you live.”
The air in the room suddenly adopted a distinct chill as a thick, whipping breeze entered the chambers.
“But should you die with any of these past transgressions unpaid for, Ristikus... you will know only pain in your eternity. Nothing else. And should that sin-stone be destroyed, your anima, your soul will be lost forever.”
Ristikus nodded quickly, deliberately pushing the thought of this risk out of his mind. He knew what he must do.
The Dredger, who had taken his place by the door during the exchange, now approached Ristikus once again. He beckoned the elf over to the single tablet, pulling a stool out from beneath the table and promptly hopped up on it - looking down at the series of tools. He handed Ristikus a hammer and chisel, smiling politely, cluelessly as he spoke up towards him.
“Well then, chisel away mi’lord! Ah well, a sin is a sin and a stone is a stone, as it goes. Let’s get you sorted out.”
Ristikus carefully placed the chisel’s tip to the stone, a sharp and terrible thought of the new possibilities entering his mind as a last ditch effort of his subconscious to turn back. With a quick shake of his head, he forced the thought out of his consciousness. He tapped the hammer into the chisel’s end once, and then again. Picking up rhythm, the noise began to echo ceaselessly throughout the Venthyr’s chamber. Ristikus reached into the depths of his mind, setting into stone all of the violations, atrocities, and sins of his past.
- Echoes of stone..gif (4.21 MiB) Viewed 2288 times