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littlemanpoet · 01-28-2006, 11:33 AM

"What can you tell us?" the man called Stamo asked.

Wenda's hands shook; the fire warmed her and the cup of broth took the chill out of her hands, but they could not take the cold terror out of her heart. She did not wish to think of It, for the very recalling gave It place in her mind, and sucked at the marrow of her soul. She shivered.

"I .... went .... to the village .... to the north ..." She spoke in halts and gasps, her teeth chattering. "It was daylight .... but .... quiet as death." Wenda took a sip of the hot broth. "Bodies .... lay .... in the snow .... I turned one over." Wenda stopped and gazed into the fire, transfixed except for the shivering. "His eyes .... his face .... caught .... in a frozen look .... of naked terror!" Wenda sipped from the cup of broth and swallowed convulsively. "They were all the same!"

"Peace, Wenda!" said Mara, her hand warm on her shoulder. "Peace! Speak no more of it."

Wenda shook her head violently, and her shivering stilled from the warmth of the fire; but also she willed herself to be calm enough to tell her tale aright.

"Quiet as death it had seemed, but the silence became menacing of a sudden. I looked from the face of a dead child caught in its fear. There was a man; he had come out of the hut closest to the village's inn; the chief's hut. His face was dead, his eyes black and empty; he walked toward me but his footfall made no sound. I felt I was in a nightmare. My deers saw him and fled south, taking the sledge with them. Wiser were they than I.

"'Who are you?' I cried, I know not how I found voice to speak to It. It did not answer but reached a hand out to me. At that moment, somehow I saw as an Elf sees, I guess, and before me the world changed, and the man was but a shell; the wraith in the man was cold and deadly, and sought me. I fell into a panic, for I knew if It caught me my soul would not be my own. In my panic my shifting came upon me and I fled with the fleetness of a reindeer. Had I not the gift, I would be dead this moment, and a shell for this wraith.

"It comes this way."

Undómë · 01-30-2006, 01:44 PM

‘There is a darkness in the flames . . .’ Goody’s voice followed close on to Wenda’s last words. ‘See how it creeps toward the heart of the embers.’ She looked up from her chair by the fire, turning her gaze on Wenda, and by inclusion, the tall man and the other woman who sat near her.

‘The new year is turning,’ she continued in a challenging tone. ‘How will you see the light prevail and the shadows driven back?’ Her gnarled hand reached down for a handful of holly and she threw into the glowing core of the little blaze. Flames danced and licked along the pointy leaves, consuming the reddened berries that clung to them. Rowan followed and then yew, each of them calling up the flames. Still the darkness remained.

‘What will you do?’

Nerindel · 01-30-2006, 05:33 PM

Mara stared at the dark shadows gathering within the flame, as the old woman spoke. The holly, Rowan and Yew fed the flames giving light and warmth, but did little to dispel the darkness or cold chill settling over Mara’s soul. Wenda was right it was coming she could feel it, but what could they do?

She had encountered Wraiths before, But none like the one Wenda had described. Wraiths by Nature where vile, vengeful, souls who refused to completely let go of life, they coveted it and despised with envy those who still possessed it. But always they are bound to the place of their death, praying on the unwitting wanderer or tricking with sweet voices or illusions, never did they leave their bounds to hunt souls so relentlessly, no this thing was different, darker, more dangerous!

‘What will you do?’ the old woman’s words cut through Mara’s thoughts and she looked back at the others, What will they do? She wondered, Thoughtfully studying each face in turn, trying to determine their measure.

‘What do you know of Wraiths?’ she asked wearily, she did not relish an encounter with this thing , she doubted that any of them did, but it must be done least the portent of her dream come to pass, it had never occurred to her before that those screams could very well turn out to be those of the people standing before her, but that was the nature of her gift… the future ever changeable is never clear!

As she waited their reply her dark eyes swept the room looking for the one who had once spoken those words to her. For if they where to succeed they may need the help of the one who carries Mandur’mak! …Hells Sword!

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01-28-2006, 11:33 AM	#1
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	"What can you tell us?" the man called Stamo asked. Wenda's hands shook; the fire warmed her and the cup of broth took the chill out of her hands, but they could not take the cold terror out of her heart. She did not wish to think of It, for the very recalling gave It place in her mind, and sucked at the marrow of her soul. She shivered. "I .... went .... to the village .... to the north ..." She spoke in halts and gasps, her teeth chattering. "It was daylight .... but .... quiet as death." Wenda took a sip of the hot broth. "Bodies .... lay .... in the snow .... I turned one over." Wenda stopped and gazed into the fire, transfixed except for the shivering. "His eyes .... his face .... caught .... in a frozen look .... of naked terror!" Wenda sipped from the cup of broth and swallowed convulsively. "They were all the same!" "Peace, Wenda!" said Mara, her hand warm on her shoulder. "Peace! Speak no more of it." Wenda shook her head violently, and her shivering stilled from the warmth of the fire; but also she willed herself to be calm enough to tell her tale aright. "Quiet as death it had seemed, but the silence became menacing of a sudden. I looked from the face of a dead child caught in its fear. There was a man; he had come out of the hut closest to the village's inn; the chief's hut. His face was dead, his eyes black and empty; he walked toward me but his footfall made no sound. I felt I was in a nightmare. My deers saw him and fled south, taking the sledge with them. Wiser were they than I. "'Who are you?' I cried, I know not how I found voice to speak to It. It did not answer but reached a hand out to me. At that moment, somehow I saw as an Elf sees, I guess, and before me the world changed, and the man was but a shell; the wraith in the man was cold and deadly, and sought me. I fell into a panic, for I knew if It caught me my soul would not be my own. In my panic my shifting came upon me and I fled with the fleetness of a reindeer. Had I not the gift, I would be dead this moment, and a shell for this wraith. "It comes this way."

01-30-2006, 01:44 PM	#2
Undómë Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Mar 2005 Posts: 400	‘There is a darkness in the flames . . .’ Goody’s voice followed close on to Wenda’s last words. ‘See how it creeps toward the heart of the embers.’ She looked up from her chair by the fire, turning her gaze on Wenda, and by inclusion, the tall man and the other woman who sat near her. ‘The new year is turning,’ she continued in a challenging tone. ‘How will you see the light prevail and the shadows driven back?’ Her gnarled hand reached down for a handful of holly and she threw into the glowing core of the little blaze. Flames danced and licked along the pointy leaves, consuming the reddened berries that clung to them. Rowan followed and then yew, each of them calling up the flames. Still the darkness remained. ‘What will you do?’

01-30-2006, 05:33 PM	#3
Nerindel Spirited Weaver of Fates Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: In an endless sea of dreams! Posts: 827	Mara stared at the dark shadows gathering within the flame, as the old woman spoke. The holly, Rowan and Yew fed the flames giving light and warmth, but did little to dispel the darkness or cold chill settling over Mara’s soul. Wenda was right it was coming she could feel it, but what could they do? She had encountered Wraiths before, But none like the one Wenda had described. Wraiths by Nature where vile, vengeful, souls who refused to completely let go of life, they coveted it and despised with envy those who still possessed it. But always they are bound to the place of their death, praying on the unwitting wanderer or tricking with sweet voices or illusions, never did they leave their bounds to hunt souls so relentlessly, no this thing was different, darker, more dangerous! ‘What will you do?’ the old woman’s words cut through Mara’s thoughts and she looked back at the others, What will they do? She wondered, Thoughtfully studying each face in turn, trying to determine their measure. ‘What do you know of Wraiths?’ she asked wearily, she did not relish an encounter with this thing , she doubted that any of them did, but it must be done least the portent of her dream come to pass, it had never occurred to her before that those screams could very well turn out to be those of the people standing before her, but that was the nature of her gift… the future ever changeable is never clear! As she waited their reply her dark eyes swept the room looking for the one who had once spoken those words to her. For if they where to succeed they may need the help of the one who carries Mandur’mak! …Hells Sword!