• Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
  • Posts: 3885 (1.14 / day)
  • VMs: 17
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:


User has no status, yet


User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Any room for an old hand to come back?
<Snipped quote by Rtron>
Been awhile since I've seen you around, old friend, how've you been?

So far so good. Computer went down for a bit, College got busy and then this pandemic hit. Still got a job though, since I'm an 'essential worker' (read: walmart worker) so not to terrible.

How's it been going for you?
I'm very interested.

There! Just the slightest hint of something moving around him. Irawhaki whirled around, water splashing, as he caught another flickering movement in the corner of his eye. She was gone in an instant, leaving nothing for him to see but the emptiness of the tide pool. She was fast. He muttered a curse in frustration, idly rubbing the jewel hanging from his neck. This was taking too long. It had taken her this long to even get desperate enough to risk showing herself, any longer and the sun would begin to rise.

When it did, the tide pool would disappear, and she with it, and he would have to return tomorrow night. She had a connection to the night, a powerful one. The chill was beginning to seep into his bones and exhaustion was pulling at his eyelids. It was tiring, keeping himself ready throughout the night when she wouldn't even give him a reason to be ready.

He needed to get to her quickly, but how? She had been evading him all night and wouldn't answer to any of his calls, be they mundane or magical. He was beginning to be tempted to summon allies from the afterlife and drag her out. So that he could finally deal with he-

The distraction was all that she needed. One moment Irawhaki was distracted by his frustrations. The next, she hit him with all the force of a wave. The sorcerer only barely got his hands up in time, sliding backwards in the pool as his hands clasped around the disturbingly soft flesh of her wrists. Long claws scraped his neck, barely held back.

As she screamed, a vision overtook him.

A young girl giggled as two boys showed off, competing for her affection.

One was the chief's son, destined to rule the tribe. Arrogant, and it showed in his nature.

The other the son of a fisherman, with a warm heart and pretty smile.

Irawhaki gasped as he came back into reality, throwing the spirit back. His neck stung, an unsettling reminder of how quickly he had come to experiencing death once again. She snarled at him, hatred and rage emanating from her bloated body, dripping with sea water and crawling with crustaceans. The strength of her enmity gave him pause. She would not go as willingly as some had. He held out his hands, placating. "Spirit, I am Irawhaki. Speaker of the Dead. I feel the rage in you. Let me hel-" She howled and threw herself at him again as the sound made him instinctively cover his ears.

This time he was not fast enough to stop her attack and he screamed as her claws pierced his shoulders. She slammed him into the ground, the cold water of the tide pool enveloping his head as he was thrown into another vision.

She had made her decision.

The chief's son offered a life of luxury, but not of happiness.

He was not happy when she told him of her choice, but she had expected that.

What she hadn't expected was the flash of rage that gleamed in his eyes, gone so quickly that she wasn't sure if she had imagined it.

Cold water filled Irawhaki's lungs as he instinctively inhaled as the vision faded. The spirits claws were still deep in his shoulders, keeping him under the water. He could just hear her terrible howling as she pushed, trying to make him suffer for the evils of another.

Unfortunately for her, he no longer needed to breathe.

Irawhaki reached up, flailing with his hands until he found her face. Gripping as tightly as he could, screaming again as she sank her rotten teeth into his thumb, he pushed with all the might he possessed. With the grotesque feeling of flesh and bone giving beneath his fingers, he threw the spirit off of him. Blood began to pour from his wounds as the claws were ripped from his shoulders. He climbed to his feet, vomiting up seawater and the dead gods only knew what else.

He looked up at the sound of snapping and wailing. The spirit was putting herself back together, hands clasped to her face, getting ready for another assault. Not this time. Irawhaki summoned his waning strength and charged into the spirit. Another vision overtook him as they crashed into the ground.

She was by herself, far from the village. It was quiet here, and beautiful at night.

She sang softly to herself, preparing for a bath in the warm tide pool.

The splashing of someone approaching caught her attention.

It was the chief's son. She smiled and greeted him as he approached, face cast in shadow.

She began to feel uneasy as he got closer. Something was wrong.

Too late she tried to back up, and he was upon her.

Hands like stone around her throat, grasping squeezing.

He was ranting, raving, she couldn't make out the words.

Stars in her vision as he slammed her head into a nearby rock.

Agonizing pain and hot blood pouring down her head.

She tried scream for help but no one answered.

She had come her for it's isolation.

Warm water filling her lungs as he held her underwater.

Death came.

But not the peace that should have with it.

Rage. Rage and hatred filled her as her soul left her body.

She watched. And her rage grew.

The village moved on.

Believed his lies about her death.

Allowed him to become chief.

He would pay. They would pay. She would ensure it.

Irawhaki returned, still struggling with the spirit. He had to shout to be heard over her unearthly screaming. "I can bring you justice! I can bring him to justice! You know he's still alive! I can do, what you and they could not! I can bring you peace! Rest spirit! Rest and allow me to bring you the justice you seek, and the peace you deserve." With each of his words he began to push his magical might into her. Purifying the corruption in her incorporeal body. Quieting the rage at her core.

As he did, her body began to change and shift. Transforming from a bloated corpse with rotting fangs and claws to a young woman. Beautiful and serene, smiling softly as a soft light infused her.

Carefully, Irawhaki let go. She smiled expectantly at him, eyes darting towards the village. He waved a weary hand, leaning back against a rock. "Yes, yes. A moment. I need to regain my energy. That was...tiring."

She shrugged apologetically.

@BCTheEntity The Golden Spears are finished and ready for review.

© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet