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If you could, draw a pale looking man, with empty bleeding eye sockets and a wide grin, and clawlike hands.  He should have three spider-leg-like appendages breaking through the top of his head, carrying him above the ground.  Basically like my original character from The Orchestra, except older and more dead.

The Cloak of Crow

 

Part I

 

     Alone, with nothing but the ruins of the place he once lived. Isolated, with nothing but the bleak sea surrounding him. Detached, with nothing but the company of himself and the spirits of the dead that laid beneath him. This was the life of Jonathan Crow.

 

     Fort Tenòche was quite a bustling town. Merchants and hunters sailing the sea found this place to be a safe-haven from the violent waters and unpredictable weather. It was located in the middle of the ocean, a midpoint between the cities of Anton and Drell. It’s high, thick walls protected it from any unwanted visitors and the old lighthouse guided them into the port so they can rest and sell their goods. This is where Jonathan lived. Jonathan had a pretty normal childhood; mocking the strange men that entered the fort, stealing various trinkets from vendors in the market, curiously peeking through the window at the bar to see the things all the grown-ups did, all parts of a normal kid’s life in Fort Tenòche. Sure, he got in trouble sometimes and got a beating for it, but he always had his parents if he was in any real danger.

 

Edited by CloakofCrow
  • Like 1

This isn't so much a story as it is a hypothetical situation, as it doesn't really have an end, but whatever. #YOLO

​(Disclaimer: This "story" won't make much sense unless you've read Shadowfall: Blade of Souls. Also Bael, Violet, and Will belong to Will, not me. dnt sue meh plz kthnxbie)

 

     White lay sleeplessly in the rind of light penetrating the darkness of the cave. They had decided to take a rest, her and her companions, before venturing further into the cavern. If Bael's confidence was anything to go by, they would have quite a fight ahead of them. But she couldn't sleep. How could she sleep when she needed to practice? She had no real control over her abilities, they just seemed to stop and work whenever they pleased. So far they had been fortunate they worked to a degree in battle, but it was only  a matter of time before their luck ran out. She couldn't let any one else die if she could help it. She wouldn't make the same mistake that cost Violet her life.

     Violet.

     The image of Violet's head lying on the floor in a pool of blood briefly flashed in front of her eyes. She flinched and shook her head, desperately trying to divert her thoughts. Practice. She needed to practice.

     Quietly as to not wake any of her sleeping companions, she gathered up a few torches and lit one of them before venturing out. She happened upon a small cluster of stalagmites and stalactites, out of sight of the temporary camp and any sort of lurking creature. She laid her torch on the ground before setting to work on attempting to coat the stalagmites in ice, accompanied by nothing but an eerie silence. 

     For a while, everything went unchanged, until the sound of slow, scraping footsteps broke the silence and her concentration. White stopped her practice and looked over her shoulder, the footsteps stopping as she did. She simply dismissed it as one of her companions groggily searching for her and when back to what she was going as the footsteps started again. They would find her eventually. As the footsteps came closer and closer, slowly growing louder, she became less and less convinced it was of her companions shuffling around half asleep.

     "Hello?" She called out to the darkness around her. There was no response. 

     Now on guard, she managed to craft a small dagger out of ice and turned to face the direction of the steps. They finally stopped outside her flickering ring of torchlight, leaving a long space of agonizing silence.

     "...Wh...Whi...Whi-ite..."

     Her eyes widened in shock and the dagger fell out of her grasp, shattering on the floor. It couldn't be. It couldn't be her. The voice was strained and cracked, but all too recognizable. White started backing away only to run into a stalagmite, in complete terror of what she thought was in the shadows. The figure stepped into the light, confirming her fears. It was Violet.

     Violet's skin was pain and starting to rot, a stench accompanying it. Her face was still frozen in the same look of terror, and her head had been sewed on in a crude and grotesque, bits of neck flesh torn. The front of her clothes were stained maroon from her own dried blood, and her saber hung loosely from her sickly pain fingers. She just stood there, almost as if to let White take it all in. 

     Violet's decapitated head. The pure darkness before her near death. Will's demon form rife with wrath. Violet's body in a pool of blood. These images flashed in her mind as White stared, paralyzed against the stone. Her heart pounded so hard her whole body felt it as it rung in her ears. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She couldn't look away.

     Will slowly awoke, taking the time to yawn and stretch before sitting up and looking around the fire light.

     "Alright everyone, time to wake up. We have to-wait, where's White?"

     That's when he heard her scream. 

     Wasting no time, Will lit a torch and ran out in the scream's direction with the others close behind. When they got there White was slumped against a stalagmite, unconscious but visibly unharmed, and Violet's saber lying not to far from her.

Part II

 

     Jonathan had a healthy relationship with his parents and older brother. After a good day of fooling around, there was always dinner on the table for him. He admired his father and brother very much and he always aspired to be just like them. His brother, Alan, worked with his father most of the time at the docks. Carrying crates to and from the ships. At night, his father worked at a local bar and his brother occasionally worked the lighthouse shift. Very rarely, his brother let him accompany him at the lighthouse. This was Jonathan’s favorite thing to do because he was able to see all the ships and watch as they followed the light his brother controlled.

     One rainy night, he snuck out to see if his brother was doing ok up in the lighthouse. He climbed all the way up the spiraling staircase to the top and finally saw his brother. “Alan?” Jonathan said in a small voice.

    His brother turned his head in surprise upon seeing the soaking wet little Jonathan and quickly threw a cigarette off the ledge, “Jonathan? What are you doing here? Surely mother didn’t let you go outside in this weather!” Jonathan stared at the ground nervously, “I snuck out to see if you were ok.” Alan studied Jonathan begrudgingly, picking him up and setting him down on a bench so he could see the ocean. “You should not have, but thank you for caring about me.” The rain started pouring harder and Jonathan gazed wearily at the sky.

     “It’s raining harder,” Jonathan stated.

    “Yup,” His brother remarked.

 

     “Do you think it’ll get worse?”

     “I hope not.”

Edited by CloakofCrow
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