[[lots of new members, so reposting and going to work on her story this week while i am gone as i have been lazy lately]]
She was dead. For the first time in years of lying under the earth she knew this to be her state. But… how did she get here? Why now was she so aware of her current status?
“Child…” The word was only a whisper in her mind in a language she did not know, yet understood as if she spoke it her whole life. A shadowed face appeared before her in the darkness. An elf? “Tell me child… What do you desire?”
Desire? She tried to think. But she could remember nothing. Desire… Then she saw his face. He was a young man, not much older than her, handsome and strong. She struggled to remember his name. She remembered loving him. Remembered how his lips felt the first time she tried to kiss him. Her body pressed against his.
“Yes,” said the elf. “Your love.”
My love… Yes. Her small village had remained untouched by the war although some had left to fight against the legion. Isolated from the torment around them. Her mother did not approve of her love. Once she had caught her sneaking into his room. Her mother had beaten her. “You lascivious child! The gods have cursed me with such a beast!”
One day her younger sister had caught her sneaking into his room. Her sister started to cry out to their mother. She reached out with her hands and wrapped them around the girl’s neck, silencing her. She only meant to keep her quiet. But she held on too long. She was hanged in the village square the next morning.
“What is your name, child?”
“My name…? I am… Lascivious.”
“That is what your mother called you.”
“Yes.”
"A 'beast' she called you."
"Yes."
“Come to me, child,” the elf whispered seductively in her mind. “Come to me and I will reunite you with your lover. Swear your service to me and I will allow you to reap revenge on your people for the injustice they struck upon you. Be the blade wielded by the hand of my will and I will call you ‘daughter.’”
Her eyes, so long devoid of all fluid, welled up dropping tears down her dust cheeks.
“Mother…” Lascivious stirred. Her joints screamed out in pain, but it was brief and forgotten as she clawed her way up. “I will! I will!”
“I will!” she screamed as she burst through to the surface. She spit dirt and grass out of her mouth as she crawled out of the ground. She stood up on shaky feet brushing her hair and stumbling forward toward a figure she could see in the night. It turned to look at her as she approached.
“Ah! A fresh recruit! About time you got up! Now ge ---“ Lascivious’ fist hit him square in the teeth, sending him reeling to the ground.
“Ha! A fighter that one is! Don’t worry bag of bones, Mordo. I’ll take it from here.”
The old corpse spit out a tooth. “And welcome to her you are, Stern.”
“I am the Blade of Sylvanas,” Lascivious said to the Forsaken, a massive male-looking creature with wide shoulders and strong arms.
“Sure ye are, lass. Come with me. I’ll start ye on yer trainin’. What’s yer name, lass?’
“I am Lascivious.”
“Lascivious is it?” He stopped walking and looked at her. “So what is it you’re looking for, Lascivious?”
She paused next to him as the memories of her love came flooding through her mind, filling what had been empty for so long. She wasn’t sure where to look, but she knew he was out there waiting for her to return. The Dark Lady had promised. She smiled wickedly at the warrior.
“My brother.”
Lascivious - Rebirth
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Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious rose from the body and placed the corpse’s bloody heart in her canvas bag. Wiping the blood from her mouth, she looked around the meadow admiring the devastation. All around her members of the horde - some known, some unknown – checked the bodies of the humans making sure they were dead. It had been a disappointing battle. Several ran leaving their comrades behind to fend for themselves and of those that stayed very few were skilled with the weapons they carried.
“Ha! I found this one hiding in the bushes!” called out a large orc dragging an older man from the woods. He lifted his sword and was about to strike him.
“Wait!” Lascivious walked up to the quiver human. The orc hesitated and opened his mouth as if to protest, but stayed his blade. She bent down and looked into the man’s eyes. “I know you…”
A piece of her childhood came back to her. She was eleven. She yearned for the affection of her brother. But he was too busy with the other girls of the village to play with his little sister. He was too old for tea and hide-n-seek. She saw how he was with the other girls of the village. They all admired him. He was one of the few handsome boys in the village.
The man said he could teach her to be like them. He said he could show her how men wanted to be pleased… But it didn’t matter. It was not what her brother wanted. Maybe he was just afraid. After all had not her mother beaten her repeatedly? The day she was hanged she looked at the man standing out there in the gathering, waiting for him to speak up to defend her. But he did not say anything. He turned away from her and started talking to one of the other younger girls of the village.
Lascivious caressed his cheek with clawed fingers. “Ah yesss…. I remember you. Tell Broknog to come here.”
The old man shuddered under her touch. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Harmo- ?!”
“Shhhh. Don’t speak.” She could smell the fear oozing from his pours. She found the scent intoxicating. “You remember me do you? That is good dog for I remember you.” She grabbed the thinning hair on the back of his head. “I remember your lessons. I remember your betrayal.”
“What is it deadie?” asked a gruff old goblin, scratching his hairless chin with an old wrinkled fingers.
“Ask him if he knows where my brother is.”
The old goblin shrugged and muttered in a language vaguely familiar to Lascivious’ ears. The man trembled as he answered Broknog’s question.
“He seems too,” the goblin told her. “He be blathering a lot. I think he pissed himself. The horde gathered around the pathetic human began to laugh.
“Tell him he will deliver a message for me.”
The man looked relieved and nodded vigorously when Broknog spoke to him.
Lascivious rose. “Watch him. Give him something to write with. I’ll find his horse.”
Sammuel was sitting by the fire when the rider-less horse walked into camp. The men were already on edge for their hunting party had not yet returned.
“Sam,” one the men said. “Isn’t that Breck’s horse?”
Sammuel jumped to his feet and went to the horse. It had some minor sc#@!&s, but nothing serious. Some flies buzzed around its saddlebag. When he opened it the sightless, empty sockets of Breck looked back at him. A crumpled piece of parchment was stuffed into his mouth. Behind him one of the younger men vomited.
He wasn’t fond of the old man. He had always thought him to be… disingenuous, but he was the last remnants from his old home. Loyalty to the community had kept Breck in his service.
He carefully pulled out the paper and opened it.
My dearest Sammuel,
Oh, how I have missed you my brother. I have thought about you often since my return to the living. Have you thought of me all these long years? You must have. I know it pained you that day I was murdered. But be assured brother, I shall take vengeance upon those who strived to keep us apart and deny us of our love.
Be of cheer for soon I shall seek you out and we shall be together for all eternity. The Dark Lady has promised this and will consecrate our love with her blessing. Until then, be wary of our enemies for they will surely try to turn you against me as they did before. Even death could not break our bond, nor will their jealous scheming.
Until we meet again, my love.
Yours forever.
- Lascivious
“Ha! I found this one hiding in the bushes!” called out a large orc dragging an older man from the woods. He lifted his sword and was about to strike him.
“Wait!” Lascivious walked up to the quiver human. The orc hesitated and opened his mouth as if to protest, but stayed his blade. She bent down and looked into the man’s eyes. “I know you…”
A piece of her childhood came back to her. She was eleven. She yearned for the affection of her brother. But he was too busy with the other girls of the village to play with his little sister. He was too old for tea and hide-n-seek. She saw how he was with the other girls of the village. They all admired him. He was one of the few handsome boys in the village.
The man said he could teach her to be like them. He said he could show her how men wanted to be pleased… But it didn’t matter. It was not what her brother wanted. Maybe he was just afraid. After all had not her mother beaten her repeatedly? The day she was hanged she looked at the man standing out there in the gathering, waiting for him to speak up to defend her. But he did not say anything. He turned away from her and started talking to one of the other younger girls of the village.
Lascivious caressed his cheek with clawed fingers. “Ah yesss…. I remember you. Tell Broknog to come here.”
The old man shuddered under her touch. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Harmo- ?!”
“Shhhh. Don’t speak.” She could smell the fear oozing from his pours. She found the scent intoxicating. “You remember me do you? That is good dog for I remember you.” She grabbed the thinning hair on the back of his head. “I remember your lessons. I remember your betrayal.”
“What is it deadie?” asked a gruff old goblin, scratching his hairless chin with an old wrinkled fingers.
“Ask him if he knows where my brother is.”
The old goblin shrugged and muttered in a language vaguely familiar to Lascivious’ ears. The man trembled as he answered Broknog’s question.
“He seems too,” the goblin told her. “He be blathering a lot. I think he pissed himself. The horde gathered around the pathetic human began to laugh.
“Tell him he will deliver a message for me.”
The man looked relieved and nodded vigorously when Broknog spoke to him.
Lascivious rose. “Watch him. Give him something to write with. I’ll find his horse.”
Sammuel was sitting by the fire when the rider-less horse walked into camp. The men were already on edge for their hunting party had not yet returned.
“Sam,” one the men said. “Isn’t that Breck’s horse?”
Sammuel jumped to his feet and went to the horse. It had some minor sc#@!&s, but nothing serious. Some flies buzzed around its saddlebag. When he opened it the sightless, empty sockets of Breck looked back at him. A crumpled piece of parchment was stuffed into his mouth. Behind him one of the younger men vomited.
He wasn’t fond of the old man. He had always thought him to be… disingenuous, but he was the last remnants from his old home. Loyalty to the community had kept Breck in his service.
He carefully pulled out the paper and opened it.
My dearest Sammuel,
Oh, how I have missed you my brother. I have thought about you often since my return to the living. Have you thought of me all these long years? You must have. I know it pained you that day I was murdered. But be assured brother, I shall take vengeance upon those who strived to keep us apart and deny us of our love.
Be of cheer for soon I shall seek you out and we shall be together for all eternity. The Dark Lady has promised this and will consecrate our love with her blessing. Until then, be wary of our enemies for they will surely try to turn you against me as they did before. Even death could not break our bond, nor will their jealous scheming.
Until we meet again, my love.
Yours forever.
- Lascivious
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Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
A bright light caught Lascivious' attention. She looked up from the gnome she was scalping - Snowfeather would enjoy the pink hair - and looked skyward.
A falling star. Slashing across the sky like a sword.
"Make a wish, Harmony."
The voice was her mother's. They sat on the hill above the village. She could not remember her mother's name but the details of her face came flashing back to her. Her dark hair, much like her own. Her crooked smile and gray eyes. She was not old, but a hard life in the rural hills had bent her back grayed her hair. Harmony was ten years old that day. Still innocent and uncorrupted by the people of her village. Little did she know in a few short years she would be murdered. Harmony made to speak but her mom held a finger to her lips.
"Shhhh. You're not suppose to tell."
"But I want to tell, mother," Lascivious spoke aloud into the darkness as the light in the sky began to fade. "I wish to devour your heart, mother. I wish to collect the souls of your people and deliver them to my queen. I wish for there to be a time when the word 'human' is spoken in legend and mythology, whose existence time has erased."
Lascivious tucked the pink hair under her belt - it would make a fine gift for the Coddler - and chuckled under her breath as she sheathed her dagger. Ah yes, it had been a productive night indeed. Turning away from the road she disappeared into the blackened woods.
A falling star. Slashing across the sky like a sword.
"Make a wish, Harmony."
The voice was her mother's. They sat on the hill above the village. She could not remember her mother's name but the details of her face came flashing back to her. Her dark hair, much like her own. Her crooked smile and gray eyes. She was not old, but a hard life in the rural hills had bent her back grayed her hair. Harmony was ten years old that day. Still innocent and uncorrupted by the people of her village. Little did she know in a few short years she would be murdered. Harmony made to speak but her mom held a finger to her lips.
"Shhhh. You're not suppose to tell."
"But I want to tell, mother," Lascivious spoke aloud into the darkness as the light in the sky began to fade. "I wish to devour your heart, mother. I wish to collect the souls of your people and deliver them to my queen. I wish for there to be a time when the word 'human' is spoken in legend and mythology, whose existence time has erased."
Lascivious tucked the pink hair under her belt - it would make a fine gift for the Coddler - and chuckled under her breath as she sheathed her dagger. Ah yes, it had been a productive night indeed. Turning away from the road she disappeared into the blackened woods.
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Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious sat on the ledge of the waterfall watching the cascading water as it fell on the rocks below. Even from this height she could feel the cooling effect of the misty spray returning to ledge. The sun beat down on her, but it did nothing to warm the chill in her heart. The place reminded her of the last time she had seen her father. Brogan... Was that his name? Brogan. It felt right as she whispered it.
He had returned home for a short visit during the war. His company was passing near and he had been given a day to see his family. After a brief hello to the children, her mother took him aside and spoke to him at length. When he came back, he took her by the hand and led her up into the hills where waters fell. She had always been his favorite and she was happy this had not changed in his absence. His hair was a little grayer and he had a scar on his forehead, but he still smiled the same. When they arrived at the falls he surprised her by speaking of the nature of boys and girls. What behavior was acceptable and what was not. He was kind, but he seemed very clear her behavior toward her brother fell under what was unacceptable.
What’s this? she thought. This is mother's doing! Anger flared in her. If anyone understood, she thought it would be father. She longed to tell him about Breck and his tutelage. How the old man told her how that was the kind of attention young men wanted. But he made her promise not to tell. He said young men liked girls who did the things he showed her, but not ones who had done them before. Sammuel would not understand. She was almost thirteen. Nearly a woman, he had told her. Soon she would be ready. Why is everyone against us? Why doesn't anyone want to understand?
"Do you understand what I am saying, Harmony?"
Huh? What was he saying? She shook herself and looked up into his kindly green eyes. "Yes, father. I understand."
"Good." He smiled and patted her knee. "Let's get back. I don't have much time and I liked to say hello to everyone before I go!"
They stood up and as Brogan turned on his heel a rock slipped from under his foot. Having seen too much action the last several year to be a man of panic, he calmly reached out for the branch of a sapling growing near their resting spot on the ledge. Harmony did know what brought the thought to her mind. Nor what caused her to put the thought in motion. She reached out and pushed the limb. Her strength was not great. It only moved a couple inches. But it was enough. Her father fingertips brushed against the leaves of the limb now just out of his grasp.
She would never forget the look on his face. The shock. The horror of betrayal as he disappeared over the ledge. He struck the rock several times before hitting the bottom and bouncing into the water, his broken body being swept downstream toward the ocean. She stood in stunned silence for a moment before suddenly collapsing into tears. It was dark when she finally mustered the strength to come home.
"Where is your father!" her mother asked worriedly. "Why have you been gone so long!"
"I - I am sorry, mother."
"What? What wrong? What's happened!?"
She looked at Sammuel. She could see the worry in his eyes. She did not want to disappoint him. She knew how eager he was to spend time with Brogan.
"We- we were coming back and one of the officers came riding up. He said they had to leave immediately and father had to go."
There were cries of disappointment and unfairness for several moments before their mother hushed them.
"It's ok. It's ok," she consoled them. "At least we got to see him for a bit and know that he's safe. Now off to bed, the lot of you! Lot's of chores to do in the mornin'!"
Harmony lay in bed staring at the wall. No sleep would come for when she closed her eyes all she could see were her father's own horrified eyes staring back at her.
He had returned home for a short visit during the war. His company was passing near and he had been given a day to see his family. After a brief hello to the children, her mother took him aside and spoke to him at length. When he came back, he took her by the hand and led her up into the hills where waters fell. She had always been his favorite and she was happy this had not changed in his absence. His hair was a little grayer and he had a scar on his forehead, but he still smiled the same. When they arrived at the falls he surprised her by speaking of the nature of boys and girls. What behavior was acceptable and what was not. He was kind, but he seemed very clear her behavior toward her brother fell under what was unacceptable.
What’s this? she thought. This is mother's doing! Anger flared in her. If anyone understood, she thought it would be father. She longed to tell him about Breck and his tutelage. How the old man told her how that was the kind of attention young men wanted. But he made her promise not to tell. He said young men liked girls who did the things he showed her, but not ones who had done them before. Sammuel would not understand. She was almost thirteen. Nearly a woman, he had told her. Soon she would be ready. Why is everyone against us? Why doesn't anyone want to understand?
"Do you understand what I am saying, Harmony?"
Huh? What was he saying? She shook herself and looked up into his kindly green eyes. "Yes, father. I understand."
"Good." He smiled and patted her knee. "Let's get back. I don't have much time and I liked to say hello to everyone before I go!"
They stood up and as Brogan turned on his heel a rock slipped from under his foot. Having seen too much action the last several year to be a man of panic, he calmly reached out for the branch of a sapling growing near their resting spot on the ledge. Harmony did know what brought the thought to her mind. Nor what caused her to put the thought in motion. She reached out and pushed the limb. Her strength was not great. It only moved a couple inches. But it was enough. Her father fingertips brushed against the leaves of the limb now just out of his grasp.
She would never forget the look on his face. The shock. The horror of betrayal as he disappeared over the ledge. He struck the rock several times before hitting the bottom and bouncing into the water, his broken body being swept downstream toward the ocean. She stood in stunned silence for a moment before suddenly collapsing into tears. It was dark when she finally mustered the strength to come home.
"Where is your father!" her mother asked worriedly. "Why have you been gone so long!"
"I - I am sorry, mother."
"What? What wrong? What's happened!?"
She looked at Sammuel. She could see the worry in his eyes. She did not want to disappoint him. She knew how eager he was to spend time with Brogan.
"We- we were coming back and one of the officers came riding up. He said they had to leave immediately and father had to go."
There were cries of disappointment and unfairness for several moments before their mother hushed them.
"It's ok. It's ok," she consoled them. "At least we got to see him for a bit and know that he's safe. Now off to bed, the lot of you! Lot's of chores to do in the mornin'!"
Harmony lay in bed staring at the wall. No sleep would come for when she closed her eyes all she could see were her father's own horrified eyes staring back at her.
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Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
The Plaguelands.
Even to her undead eyes the place was forsaken. By the Alliance and Horde, Elune, the Earthmother and whatever other gods any felt like praying to. Only the mindless dead and remnants of scourge wandered its withering grounds.
It was here in these dying hill she discovered her home. Burned and gutted, unrecognizable from its former state.
Much like me, Lascivious thought to herself. “What happened here?”
“Burning Legion,” said the old goblin, Broknog. “Overran everything. Killed and converted everything that moved. If the plague didn’t get ya, they made sure you got got, if ya take my meaning.”
A small ruined shack caught Lascivious’ attention. Only two sides were left, the roof and door gone. But littering the area around it were dozens of dead animal. Especially rodent and birds. She reigned in Sam and dismounted. Inside the shack were several burst bags of grain. There had been many more, but the local animal had devoured them over the years. And now they lay dead. She lifted a hand full of moldy grain and let it drop slowly from her finger.
“Not good grain.”
“What?”
“The grain. It’s not good,” Broknog repeated.
“Yes. I know.” She remembered that night. She didn’t want to eat but her mother made her. She was very young. Her sister was still in diapers. Sammuel and their father, Brogan, were away on a hunting trip. It took several days for the village to realize the grain was no good. They locked it in the shed to keep the animals from getting to it. Several people who ate the grain… well, they acted a bit funny, but not Harmony. She had been fine. Brushing her hands she mounted back up and headed into the ruins. They had always been isolated from the going-ons of the world around them. But even the villages remoteness could not keep them hidden from the eyes of the scourge. The grain was one reason her father had decided to enlist.
Stopping front of one of the building, she dismounted and stepped onto the black rubble. She paused looking around.
“What is it, deadie?”
“My home.” She ran a tongue over her dried lips. Home. Walking around the ruined building, she kicked about through the cinders until something caught her eye. A book. Lascivious bent and retrieved it with clawed fingers. The back cover was missing along with many pages. Most were burned, the edges torn and ragged. What few words were visible she could not read. Her mind struggled to penetrate the mysterious code, a code she once knew but had been erased from her memory. She didn’t need to read it to know what it was.
Her diary.
Lascivious thought about handing it to Broknog to translate, but something stayed her hand. Instead she tucked it into her saddlebag and mounted Sam once again. When she had learned the location of the village she had come to reap revenge on her murderers. But instead found her revenge stolen from her. Still… Sammuel survived. Maybe there were others who escaped the scourge. For now she would continue her search.
Unlike the scourge, she would not be merciful.
Even to her undead eyes the place was forsaken. By the Alliance and Horde, Elune, the Earthmother and whatever other gods any felt like praying to. Only the mindless dead and remnants of scourge wandered its withering grounds.
It was here in these dying hill she discovered her home. Burned and gutted, unrecognizable from its former state.
Much like me, Lascivious thought to herself. “What happened here?”
“Burning Legion,” said the old goblin, Broknog. “Overran everything. Killed and converted everything that moved. If the plague didn’t get ya, they made sure you got got, if ya take my meaning.”
A small ruined shack caught Lascivious’ attention. Only two sides were left, the roof and door gone. But littering the area around it were dozens of dead animal. Especially rodent and birds. She reigned in Sam and dismounted. Inside the shack were several burst bags of grain. There had been many more, but the local animal had devoured them over the years. And now they lay dead. She lifted a hand full of moldy grain and let it drop slowly from her finger.
“Not good grain.”
“What?”
“The grain. It’s not good,” Broknog repeated.
“Yes. I know.” She remembered that night. She didn’t want to eat but her mother made her. She was very young. Her sister was still in diapers. Sammuel and their father, Brogan, were away on a hunting trip. It took several days for the village to realize the grain was no good. They locked it in the shed to keep the animals from getting to it. Several people who ate the grain… well, they acted a bit funny, but not Harmony. She had been fine. Brushing her hands she mounted back up and headed into the ruins. They had always been isolated from the going-ons of the world around them. But even the villages remoteness could not keep them hidden from the eyes of the scourge. The grain was one reason her father had decided to enlist.
Stopping front of one of the building, she dismounted and stepped onto the black rubble. She paused looking around.
“What is it, deadie?”
“My home.” She ran a tongue over her dried lips. Home. Walking around the ruined building, she kicked about through the cinders until something caught her eye. A book. Lascivious bent and retrieved it with clawed fingers. The back cover was missing along with many pages. Most were burned, the edges torn and ragged. What few words were visible she could not read. Her mind struggled to penetrate the mysterious code, a code she once knew but had been erased from her memory. She didn’t need to read it to know what it was.
Her diary.
Lascivious thought about handing it to Broknog to translate, but something stayed her hand. Instead she tucked it into her saddlebag and mounted Sam once again. When she had learned the location of the village she had come to reap revenge on her murderers. But instead found her revenge stolen from her. Still… Sammuel survived. Maybe there were others who escaped the scourge. For now she would continue her search.
Unlike the scourge, she would not be merciful.
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Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious lifted the blade from the bucket of water next to the Undercity forge and held it out in front of her eyeing it’s steaming edge. The blade was unpolished and still in need of finishing touches, but she could tell already it would be her finest creation. It would be several more hours before she finished and attached the shaft.
A few short years ago, she would never have been able to lift such a blade, but the strength of the Dark Lady coursed through her muscles allowing her to hold the weapon deftly in one hand. Although she had acquired the ability to make the finest axes, polearms were her first love. And nothing less would do for this weapon. For this blade was not meant for her enemies. It was meant for her, Sammuel. Her brother and love.
Despite the interference of the Blades of Lordearon and several near misses in her search, a reckoning was coming. She could feel it in her bones. She could hear it in the fluttering of her Forsaken heart. The time for half measures was over. She would find Sammuel. She would free him from his prison of life. Together they would bask in the terrible love of the Dark Lady and lay waste to the humans who had betrayed them.
A few short years ago, she would never have been able to lift such a blade, but the strength of the Dark Lady coursed through her muscles allowing her to hold the weapon deftly in one hand. Although she had acquired the ability to make the finest axes, polearms were her first love. And nothing less would do for this weapon. For this blade was not meant for her enemies. It was meant for her, Sammuel. Her brother and love.
Despite the interference of the Blades of Lordearon and several near misses in her search, a reckoning was coming. She could feel it in her bones. She could hear it in the fluttering of her Forsaken heart. The time for half measures was over. She would find Sammuel. She would free him from his prison of life. Together they would bask in the terrible love of the Dark Lady and lay waste to the humans who had betrayed them.
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Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious sat upon the back of Sam patting his bony neck as they made their way through the Bulkwark from the rotting plaguelands. Inside her saddle bag she could hear the murmuring of the Grim speaking. But one was most incessant above all others. Even though she could not understand his words, she knew the accent belonged to the only troll to bother her so insistently on this hated communicator. With a sigh she pulled out her stone.
“What is it, Reg?”
“How fast can you get to da Un’ercity?” he asked.
“Fairly quickly, but I have some other things to do right now.”
“Oh. Den I guess we just let yer Bruddah go.”
Lascivious jerked Sam’s reigns and pulled him to a sudden stop. She didn’t notice the look of irritation he flashed at her.
“What?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Your bruddah, Sammuel. We catch him poking’ around’ da sewers.”
“I’ll be there shortly.”
She kicked Sam’s flanks and with another annoyed glance at his rider he sped toward the Undercity. The closer she came to the city the more her undead heart fluttered. She uncounted Sam and made her way nervously to the elevator. Her movements had become those of a mindless zombie. By the time she reached the Apothecary her feet felt like leaden weights. She felt like the weight of her armor would crush her to the ground.
Then she saw him. Despite the bruises on his face, he stood tall and wide. His hair was black and long. The thick dark hair of his beard was neatly trimmed and starting to show some premature gray. She noted with some satisfaction the Grim around him had their share of bruises as well.
She approached slowly. She had longed for this moment and now that is was here… for the first time in a long time she felt fear. How would he react when he saw her? Was this all just a dream?
“Sammuel,” she whispered.
His eyes widened a bit when he saw her and recognition settled in. He seemed hesitant. As if he was glad to see her and repulsed at the same time. There was a great sadness in his eyes. She reached out and gently put her hand on his shoulder. He did not flinch. She could feel the unyielding flesh under her hand. Unable to contain herself any longer, she wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. Gods, he had grown so tall during her absence. After a moment she felt Sammuel’s arms move hesitantly up and down. Then she felt his arms wrap around her.
“Are you alright Harmony?”
Harmony looked up and Sammuel wiped the tears away from her eyes. He bent down and kissed the bruise forming on her forehead. His face was youthful and his strong jaw was shaved close. Oh how she loved him! She wiped her nose on her sleeve and nodded.
“Who did it?” he asked.
“It was Jerrod.”
He nodded and kissed her forehead again. Letting go of her, he made his way to the town well where several village boys had gathered. All but two moved away when they saw him coming.
“What do you want, runt?” asked the larger one, a full head taller than Sammuel. The boy next to him laughed.
“I want to know if you’ve run out of boys to bully since you have now taken to throwing stones at little girls, Jerrod.”
Jerrod let out laugh then suddenly swung a fist toward Sam’s head. He ducked easily and struck his foot out toward the other boy who had begun moving in on him. Sam’s foot hit him firmly in his chest and he toppled over the edge of the well, tangle in the ropes and hanging helplessly from the edge. Jerrod tried to press his advantage but a punch to the groin stopped him cold. Another kick to the knee felled the big youth.
Sam pushed him over onto his back. “Touch my sister again and I’ll make sure you can’t use that hand again.”
Thank you, Sam. You know you are going to get into trouble for this."
"He's had it coming for a while." Sammuel put his arm around her and smiled. "Besides, I'm your big brother. I am suppose to protect you. Come on, let's go home. I think I owe you a tea party."
Lascivious felt his arms drop from her as he knelt on the ground before her. He let out a tired sigh and his eyes began to moisten as he bent his head. Lascivious ran her hand through his hair and wiped the wetness from his eyes. She bent down and kissed his bruised forehead.
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... mmuel1.jpg
“Do not despair, my love,” she whispered to him. “I know you are tired. But you are safe now. No one will hurt you here.” She lifted his head up and looked into his eyes as she slid her blade from its sheath. “It is time, Sammuel.”
With a quick movement she slashed the blade across his throat and the blood sprayed her armor. His eyes became wide in surprise and fear and she knelt down hugging him close to her as his life spilled from him.
“Shhhh… it will be over soon, love. Soon you will be free. Free from the wretched Blades who imprisoned you. Free from Alliance dogs who tried to keep me from you. Free from lies and betrayal. I will protect you as you did me. I am your big sister now my love.”
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... mmuel3.jpg
Lascivious sat there holding him for several minutes after he stopped breathing. Finally, she heard the clearing of a throat.
“Sorry, Lasc,” said Hektar, the big shaman. “But what now?” Reluctantly she released Sammuel and lay him back on the floor. She stroked his hair lovingly.
“What now?” She stood and lifted Sammuel into her arms. “Now we take him to the Dark Lady. Sammuel is a mighty warrior. She will fulfill her promise to me as I have mine to her. Thank you friends.”
She nodded to the Grim present and turned away from the Apothecary carrying her brother to his first meeting with his new queen.
“What is it, Reg?”
“How fast can you get to da Un’ercity?” he asked.
“Fairly quickly, but I have some other things to do right now.”
“Oh. Den I guess we just let yer Bruddah go.”
Lascivious jerked Sam’s reigns and pulled him to a sudden stop. She didn’t notice the look of irritation he flashed at her.
“What?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Your bruddah, Sammuel. We catch him poking’ around’ da sewers.”
“I’ll be there shortly.”
She kicked Sam’s flanks and with another annoyed glance at his rider he sped toward the Undercity. The closer she came to the city the more her undead heart fluttered. She uncounted Sam and made her way nervously to the elevator. Her movements had become those of a mindless zombie. By the time she reached the Apothecary her feet felt like leaden weights. She felt like the weight of her armor would crush her to the ground.
Then she saw him. Despite the bruises on his face, he stood tall and wide. His hair was black and long. The thick dark hair of his beard was neatly trimmed and starting to show some premature gray. She noted with some satisfaction the Grim around him had their share of bruises as well.
She approached slowly. She had longed for this moment and now that is was here… for the first time in a long time she felt fear. How would he react when he saw her? Was this all just a dream?
“Sammuel,” she whispered.
His eyes widened a bit when he saw her and recognition settled in. He seemed hesitant. As if he was glad to see her and repulsed at the same time. There was a great sadness in his eyes. She reached out and gently put her hand on his shoulder. He did not flinch. She could feel the unyielding flesh under her hand. Unable to contain herself any longer, she wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. Gods, he had grown so tall during her absence. After a moment she felt Sammuel’s arms move hesitantly up and down. Then she felt his arms wrap around her.
“Are you alright Harmony?”
Harmony looked up and Sammuel wiped the tears away from her eyes. He bent down and kissed the bruise forming on her forehead. His face was youthful and his strong jaw was shaved close. Oh how she loved him! She wiped her nose on her sleeve and nodded.
“Who did it?” he asked.
“It was Jerrod.”
He nodded and kissed her forehead again. Letting go of her, he made his way to the town well where several village boys had gathered. All but two moved away when they saw him coming.
“What do you want, runt?” asked the larger one, a full head taller than Sammuel. The boy next to him laughed.
“I want to know if you’ve run out of boys to bully since you have now taken to throwing stones at little girls, Jerrod.”
Jerrod let out laugh then suddenly swung a fist toward Sam’s head. He ducked easily and struck his foot out toward the other boy who had begun moving in on him. Sam’s foot hit him firmly in his chest and he toppled over the edge of the well, tangle in the ropes and hanging helplessly from the edge. Jerrod tried to press his advantage but a punch to the groin stopped him cold. Another kick to the knee felled the big youth.
Sam pushed him over onto his back. “Touch my sister again and I’ll make sure you can’t use that hand again.”
Thank you, Sam. You know you are going to get into trouble for this."
"He's had it coming for a while." Sammuel put his arm around her and smiled. "Besides, I'm your big brother. I am suppose to protect you. Come on, let's go home. I think I owe you a tea party."
Lascivious felt his arms drop from her as he knelt on the ground before her. He let out a tired sigh and his eyes began to moisten as he bent his head. Lascivious ran her hand through his hair and wiped the wetness from his eyes. She bent down and kissed his bruised forehead.
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... mmuel1.jpg
“Do not despair, my love,” she whispered to him. “I know you are tired. But you are safe now. No one will hurt you here.” She lifted his head up and looked into his eyes as she slid her blade from its sheath. “It is time, Sammuel.”
With a quick movement she slashed the blade across his throat and the blood sprayed her armor. His eyes became wide in surprise and fear and she knelt down hugging him close to her as his life spilled from him.
“Shhhh… it will be over soon, love. Soon you will be free. Free from the wretched Blades who imprisoned you. Free from Alliance dogs who tried to keep me from you. Free from lies and betrayal. I will protect you as you did me. I am your big sister now my love.”
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... mmuel3.jpg
Lascivious sat there holding him for several minutes after he stopped breathing. Finally, she heard the clearing of a throat.
“Sorry, Lasc,” said Hektar, the big shaman. “But what now?” Reluctantly she released Sammuel and lay him back on the floor. She stroked his hair lovingly.
“What now?” She stood and lifted Sammuel into her arms. “Now we take him to the Dark Lady. Sammuel is a mighty warrior. She will fulfill her promise to me as I have mine to her. Thank you friends.”
She nodded to the Grim present and turned away from the Apothecary carrying her brother to his first meeting with his new queen.
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Keeper Of Lore
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- Posts: 1749
Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious sat on her mount, Sam, outside Brill listening to the buzz of the Zepplins. Broknog the goblin walked slowly up to her.
For nearly a year Broknog had been her translator and assisted her in tracking down the remaining members of her village. A gruff, old goblin with a pinched face, Broknog was not cheap. But he was good and reliable, a trait Lascivious felt was uncommon among the race.
He pulled a small stack of bound papers out of his bag and held it out. Something in his eyes made Lascivious hesitate before taking it. There was a sadness in his eyes, a look of pity that made her want to lop off the hand holding the papers.
Instead she took the papers and tossed him a small purse. The goblin caught it deftly but did not look at. Lascivious had never seen him accept payment without counting it. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze but could not look away from his eyes.
"Goodbye, deadie," Broknog said finally, turning away and walking toward the zepplin tower.
Lascivious glowered at his back for a moment, then pulled Sam's reigns around. Spurring him on toward Undercity, she tried to put the goblin's actions out of her head.
For nearly a year Broknog had been her translator and assisted her in tracking down the remaining members of her village. A gruff, old goblin with a pinched face, Broknog was not cheap. But he was good and reliable, a trait Lascivious felt was uncommon among the race.
He pulled a small stack of bound papers out of his bag and held it out. Something in his eyes made Lascivious hesitate before taking it. There was a sadness in his eyes, a look of pity that made her want to lop off the hand holding the papers.
Instead she took the papers and tossed him a small purse. The goblin caught it deftly but did not look at. Lascivious had never seen him accept payment without counting it. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze but could not look away from his eyes.
"Goodbye, deadie," Broknog said finally, turning away and walking toward the zepplin tower.
Lascivious glowered at his back for a moment, then pulled Sam's reigns around. Spurring him on toward Undercity, she tried to put the goblin's actions out of her head.
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Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious sat in the bed in Gallow's End with her feet pulled up, arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees.
Across from her sat Broknog's translation of what remained of her diary. She had faced many foes since rising from the dead and had done so with out fear knowing the Dark Lady's will fueled her strength. But this was different.
Lascivious shook her head. "You're being stupid," she berated herself. "It's everything you ever wanted. Proof of your betrayal."
Slowly she moved from the bed to the table. Sitting down carefully she turned the valve on the lantern, jumping a little as the flame leaped up with a small sputter.
Touching the binding carefully, she gently ran her fingers over the entire cover before opening it. Silently, she began to read.
Across from her sat Broknog's translation of what remained of her diary. She had faced many foes since rising from the dead and had done so with out fear knowing the Dark Lady's will fueled her strength. But this was different.
Lascivious shook her head. "You're being stupid," she berated herself. "It's everything you ever wanted. Proof of your betrayal."
Slowly she moved from the bed to the table. Sitting down carefully she turned the valve on the lantern, jumping a little as the flame leaped up with a small sputter.
Touching the binding carefully, she gently ran her fingers over the entire cover before opening it. Silently, she began to read.
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Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Lascivious - Rebirth
Lascivious, Irredeemable of the Grim, stood in the center of Deathknell nervously observing the Grim gathering about her. She had been selected as an Irredeemable because of her lust for killing and uncompromising hate for the Grim’s enemies, not for her public speaking ability.
The words she must speak this day would be the hardest.
Most of The Grim looked at her nervously, wondering why she had called them together. For nearly a year she had played the part of the heavy. First for the necromancer, Maledictus, and then for the wizard, Grainger, who took the mantle of Steward after the priest’s departure. If Lascivious was speaking to you, it was probably your last moments in the Grim, if not of your life. They looked as if they were assembling for an execution.
And so they were.
She looked at her brother, Sammuel, standing near the front. He smiled at her lovingly and she returned his smile with a small, sad one of her own. His face faltered for a moment, but she nodded at him in assurance and his grin returned. She wanted to go to him and kiss him and feel his arms around her, protecting her from harm like he did when they were human. But she couldn’t. She didn’t deserve his protection.
“Grim,” the warrior began speaking and those present immediately quieted down. “Welcome to Deathknell. There are many of you who have not been to or even heard of it. It is where all Foresaken begin their training to serve the Dark Lady. It is where I took up the blade in her service and where I first spoke to the necromancer, Maledictus, who offered me a home among the Grim with no judgment – something humans would never do.”
There were murmurs of agreement and nodding of head among many of the Grim who remembered the early days.
“But it was not an easy journey.”
Lascivious turned, motioning the Grim to follow her. She introduced them to her first instructor, Dannal Stern, and then led them to the walls leaving Deathknell.
“It was here I entered the village.” She spoke softly. “I finally knew where I was going. What my purpose was. To serve the will of the Dark Lady and in exchange she would give me love without conditions and reunite me with Sammuel.”
Lascivious stared blankly at the arching stone over the path as though contemplating some bittersweet memory. After a time, the others around her started shifting nervously until she shook herself from her reverie. Silently she turned and walked to toward the Undercity. She walked in silence, looking neither left nor right, he eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
The Group with her stopped in front of the Undercity, expecting her to do so was well. It took them a moment to realize the tiny warrior was continuing her silent march. Once they did so, they hurried to catch up to her, shuffling along behind her as she continued her silent journey.
They reached the Bulwark and once again the Grim began to slow, thinking about resting. They were used to having their mounts with them and this walk was becoming taxing. And indeed, Lascivious had planned on stopping here to tell them of the skewering she nearly received from the guards the night she stumbled into their midst, unable to speak, her mind clouded from years of disuse. But they recognized her for what she was. One of their own and had let her pass. None made an attempt to help her. If she were strong, she would survive her journey.
They were right. She was strong.
They were wrong. She was not one of them.
She kept moving, afraid if she stopped she would fail in her purpose and her resolve would crumple. The uncomfortable silence was broken occasionally by questioning murmurs, but the back of Lascivious offered no answers and the other Irredeemable just shrugged at their questions. Only the Steward walked on without question or complaint as they marched deeper into the plaguelands.
“Let them sweat,” the warrior thought to herself. The discomfort they suffered now in the heat of the mid day sun was nothing compared to what she had endured on her first journey. Finally she came to a spot in the road she recognized and stopped.
“Here.” She looked around, thinking of the day she crawled out of the brush, beaten and bleeding. “I thought I was going to die, again, on this very spot. How I survived to get here I do not remember. But I wanted it to be my final resting place.
“But I couldn’t. At the time I didn’t know what kept me going. What forced me to my feet and kept me moving. I cursed and blessed it in the same breath with every step.” Lascivious gazed into the thick dying trees bordering the road. “I know now. It was the Dark Lady’s will and I was bound to it by the promise I made.”
Without another word she walked off the path and headed purposefully up the wooded slope. The sun was nearly setting when they arrived at the burned out village. An unholy fire had swept over the place. Little more than the foundations remained. She stopped at tall charred pole ticking above barely recognizable remains of some sort of collapsed flooring.
“This is where they hung me.” The weariness of the Grim could not prevent outbursts of shock hearing her words. Some of them already new this, but many had not. Sammuel cursed and spat on the ground. Lascivious’ voice dropped to a low whisper and she stared at what remained of the gallows pole as if she could see her small twitching form still hanging there. “Fourteen. So many dreams yet to be dreamt.”
Harmony struggled to breathe. The rope was tight, but her body was light enough that it did not constrict her throat fully. It was slow work, but it was succeeding nonetheless. Her feet kicked in a futile search for solid ground.
On the ground below her Sammuel was struggling to get to his feet. The strong boy had debilitated two grown men in his effort to save his sister when they had dragged her from her from her hiding place at Breck’s to the gallows. It took four men to hold him in place in the dirt and even then they struggled to do so.
“It’s not her fault! Leave her alone! She couldn’t help it!”
Her mother stood near their house crying. One arm hugged her stomach and the other hand was covering her face. She trembled and fell to her knees looking away from her daughter’s bulging, accusing eyes.
Her graying vision sought out any face in the crowd she thought would help her. She saw Breck standing in the back his face expressionless. She looked at him with pleading eyes. He had mentored her. He had taught her all the things she needed to know to win Sammuel’s heart. Certainly he would help her. But he didn’t. He turned away to the girl next to. Lilly. The same age as Harmony was when Breck began teaching her. Lilly was crying and Breck put an arm around her, whispering to her comfortingly. It was then that moment Harmony realized how they had found her. Breck told her to hide in his shed. He had locked the door behind her so no one could get in. The next time it opened it was opened by the angry mob. They didn’t break it down. They opened it with the key.
She couldn’t feel her feet and she no longer had the strength to move them. Nor could she see the crowd. But she could hear them. Cheering her death. Exalting in her suffering.
“Remember me,” she told them silently as the last breath of air she had the strength to breathe left her body. “I will remember you.”
Lascivious let out a sigh and turned away from the remnants of the gallows. She walked out of the village and down a sloping hill with a little used game trail, the subdued Grim following silently now behind her. She stopped near a water fall where the path split going up the hill.
“This path goes to the top of the water fall,” she told them. “There my father would often take me. We would throw rocks over the ledge and he would tell me stories of great kingdoms with handsome princes and beautiful princesses. And this way… leads to my unmarked grave.”
The warrior pulled a bound sheathe of papers from her satchel and turned to face the Grim. She looked every one of them in the eye. Some met her gaze unafraid. Some stirred uncomfortably under the Irredeemable’s emotionless gaze. Lastly she looked at Sammuel who stood there with his arms folded looking back with narrowed eyes. He knew her too well. She was up to something. Lascivious struggled to maintain a stoic face. It took all her willpower not to run into his arms and beg for his forgiveness. She held the papers balanced on the palm of one hand and placed her other hand on top of it.
“This is a translation of what remains of my diary found under the boards of what used to be my home,” she explained. “Here I sought the proof of my betrayal. And so I found it.” There were murmurs of approval and congratulations spreading through the crowd.
“And I am guilty.” All sound immediately ceased and Sammuel uncrossed his arms standing straighter. Lascivious threw the papers to the ground. “I was not the one betrayed. My own hand condemns me.”
“Love, what are you saying?” Sammuel asked her.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” For the first time her will broke. Her body shook as if her armor was suddenly too heavy for her to bear. “I did eat the grain that was locked away. I did kill our sister – choked the life from her with these hands to keep her from speaking against me. And father… he did not get recalled back to his regiment. I watched him plunge from the falls to the rocks below and I rolled his body into the river and I was glad because he wanted to keep me from you.”
Sammuel shook his head. “No! I don’t believe it! I was… I saw…” He shook his head again as if trying to throw off some invisible blindfold veiling the past from him.
Lascivious slowly removed her dirk from it’s sheathe. The same weapon she had used to bring Sammuel to her queen.
“For as long as I have been Grim it has been my duty to find the treasonous and weak within our ranks,” she said backing slowly toward the edge of the river. “Many have suffered my wrath, but never did I realize how deep corruption ran in the Grim - into the ranks of the Irredeemable themselves. My heart holds the corruption of all humans and no one – not even those I love – is safe from my weakness. I am a betrayer and I do not suffer betrayers to live.”
Lascivious plunged the dirk into her heart. Shock ran shot throughout the ranks and even Sammuel was stunned into inaction. The ichor which served as her blood spurted over her hands and onto the ground as she tumbled back into the river.
The last thing she heard as the river carried her away were the wails of her love and brother, Sammuel.
The words she must speak this day would be the hardest.
Most of The Grim looked at her nervously, wondering why she had called them together. For nearly a year she had played the part of the heavy. First for the necromancer, Maledictus, and then for the wizard, Grainger, who took the mantle of Steward after the priest’s departure. If Lascivious was speaking to you, it was probably your last moments in the Grim, if not of your life. They looked as if they were assembling for an execution.
And so they were.
She looked at her brother, Sammuel, standing near the front. He smiled at her lovingly and she returned his smile with a small, sad one of her own. His face faltered for a moment, but she nodded at him in assurance and his grin returned. She wanted to go to him and kiss him and feel his arms around her, protecting her from harm like he did when they were human. But she couldn’t. She didn’t deserve his protection.
“Grim,” the warrior began speaking and those present immediately quieted down. “Welcome to Deathknell. There are many of you who have not been to or even heard of it. It is where all Foresaken begin their training to serve the Dark Lady. It is where I took up the blade in her service and where I first spoke to the necromancer, Maledictus, who offered me a home among the Grim with no judgment – something humans would never do.”
There were murmurs of agreement and nodding of head among many of the Grim who remembered the early days.
“But it was not an easy journey.”
Lascivious turned, motioning the Grim to follow her. She introduced them to her first instructor, Dannal Stern, and then led them to the walls leaving Deathknell.
“It was here I entered the village.” She spoke softly. “I finally knew where I was going. What my purpose was. To serve the will of the Dark Lady and in exchange she would give me love without conditions and reunite me with Sammuel.”
Lascivious stared blankly at the arching stone over the path as though contemplating some bittersweet memory. After a time, the others around her started shifting nervously until she shook herself from her reverie. Silently she turned and walked to toward the Undercity. She walked in silence, looking neither left nor right, he eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
The Group with her stopped in front of the Undercity, expecting her to do so was well. It took them a moment to realize the tiny warrior was continuing her silent march. Once they did so, they hurried to catch up to her, shuffling along behind her as she continued her silent journey.
They reached the Bulwark and once again the Grim began to slow, thinking about resting. They were used to having their mounts with them and this walk was becoming taxing. And indeed, Lascivious had planned on stopping here to tell them of the skewering she nearly received from the guards the night she stumbled into their midst, unable to speak, her mind clouded from years of disuse. But they recognized her for what she was. One of their own and had let her pass. None made an attempt to help her. If she were strong, she would survive her journey.
They were right. She was strong.
They were wrong. She was not one of them.
She kept moving, afraid if she stopped she would fail in her purpose and her resolve would crumple. The uncomfortable silence was broken occasionally by questioning murmurs, but the back of Lascivious offered no answers and the other Irredeemable just shrugged at their questions. Only the Steward walked on without question or complaint as they marched deeper into the plaguelands.
“Let them sweat,” the warrior thought to herself. The discomfort they suffered now in the heat of the mid day sun was nothing compared to what she had endured on her first journey. Finally she came to a spot in the road she recognized and stopped.
“Here.” She looked around, thinking of the day she crawled out of the brush, beaten and bleeding. “I thought I was going to die, again, on this very spot. How I survived to get here I do not remember. But I wanted it to be my final resting place.
“But I couldn’t. At the time I didn’t know what kept me going. What forced me to my feet and kept me moving. I cursed and blessed it in the same breath with every step.” Lascivious gazed into the thick dying trees bordering the road. “I know now. It was the Dark Lady’s will and I was bound to it by the promise I made.”
Without another word she walked off the path and headed purposefully up the wooded slope. The sun was nearly setting when they arrived at the burned out village. An unholy fire had swept over the place. Little more than the foundations remained. She stopped at tall charred pole ticking above barely recognizable remains of some sort of collapsed flooring.
“This is where they hung me.” The weariness of the Grim could not prevent outbursts of shock hearing her words. Some of them already new this, but many had not. Sammuel cursed and spat on the ground. Lascivious’ voice dropped to a low whisper and she stared at what remained of the gallows pole as if she could see her small twitching form still hanging there. “Fourteen. So many dreams yet to be dreamt.”
Harmony struggled to breathe. The rope was tight, but her body was light enough that it did not constrict her throat fully. It was slow work, but it was succeeding nonetheless. Her feet kicked in a futile search for solid ground.
On the ground below her Sammuel was struggling to get to his feet. The strong boy had debilitated two grown men in his effort to save his sister when they had dragged her from her from her hiding place at Breck’s to the gallows. It took four men to hold him in place in the dirt and even then they struggled to do so.
“It’s not her fault! Leave her alone! She couldn’t help it!”
Her mother stood near their house crying. One arm hugged her stomach and the other hand was covering her face. She trembled and fell to her knees looking away from her daughter’s bulging, accusing eyes.
Her graying vision sought out any face in the crowd she thought would help her. She saw Breck standing in the back his face expressionless. She looked at him with pleading eyes. He had mentored her. He had taught her all the things she needed to know to win Sammuel’s heart. Certainly he would help her. But he didn’t. He turned away to the girl next to. Lilly. The same age as Harmony was when Breck began teaching her. Lilly was crying and Breck put an arm around her, whispering to her comfortingly. It was then that moment Harmony realized how they had found her. Breck told her to hide in his shed. He had locked the door behind her so no one could get in. The next time it opened it was opened by the angry mob. They didn’t break it down. They opened it with the key.
She couldn’t feel her feet and she no longer had the strength to move them. Nor could she see the crowd. But she could hear them. Cheering her death. Exalting in her suffering.
“Remember me,” she told them silently as the last breath of air she had the strength to breathe left her body. “I will remember you.”
Lascivious let out a sigh and turned away from the remnants of the gallows. She walked out of the village and down a sloping hill with a little used game trail, the subdued Grim following silently now behind her. She stopped near a water fall where the path split going up the hill.
“This path goes to the top of the water fall,” she told them. “There my father would often take me. We would throw rocks over the ledge and he would tell me stories of great kingdoms with handsome princes and beautiful princesses. And this way… leads to my unmarked grave.”
The warrior pulled a bound sheathe of papers from her satchel and turned to face the Grim. She looked every one of them in the eye. Some met her gaze unafraid. Some stirred uncomfortably under the Irredeemable’s emotionless gaze. Lastly she looked at Sammuel who stood there with his arms folded looking back with narrowed eyes. He knew her too well. She was up to something. Lascivious struggled to maintain a stoic face. It took all her willpower not to run into his arms and beg for his forgiveness. She held the papers balanced on the palm of one hand and placed her other hand on top of it.
“This is a translation of what remains of my diary found under the boards of what used to be my home,” she explained. “Here I sought the proof of my betrayal. And so I found it.” There were murmurs of approval and congratulations spreading through the crowd.
“And I am guilty.” All sound immediately ceased and Sammuel uncrossed his arms standing straighter. Lascivious threw the papers to the ground. “I was not the one betrayed. My own hand condemns me.”
“Love, what are you saying?” Sammuel asked her.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” For the first time her will broke. Her body shook as if her armor was suddenly too heavy for her to bear. “I did eat the grain that was locked away. I did kill our sister – choked the life from her with these hands to keep her from speaking against me. And father… he did not get recalled back to his regiment. I watched him plunge from the falls to the rocks below and I rolled his body into the river and I was glad because he wanted to keep me from you.”
Sammuel shook his head. “No! I don’t believe it! I was… I saw…” He shook his head again as if trying to throw off some invisible blindfold veiling the past from him.
Lascivious slowly removed her dirk from it’s sheathe. The same weapon she had used to bring Sammuel to her queen.
“For as long as I have been Grim it has been my duty to find the treasonous and weak within our ranks,” she said backing slowly toward the edge of the river. “Many have suffered my wrath, but never did I realize how deep corruption ran in the Grim - into the ranks of the Irredeemable themselves. My heart holds the corruption of all humans and no one – not even those I love – is safe from my weakness. I am a betrayer and I do not suffer betrayers to live.”
Lascivious plunged the dirk into her heart. Shock ran shot throughout the ranks and even Sammuel was stunned into inaction. The ichor which served as her blood spurted over her hands and onto the ground as she tumbled back into the river.
The last thing she heard as the river carried her away were the wails of her love and brother, Sammuel.