Monday, November 19, 2012

The Message

Character: Dorei "Twyce" Losom
Game: The Secret World

"So, now it's come to this."

Twyce opened her eyes at hearing the voice. Lorton stood in front of her, his head tilted to one side. He looked taller than usual and Twyce soon realized why. She was no longer tied to the chair, but on the floor, though her wrists and ankles were still bound. Quickly, she pushed herself back against the wall, as far away from Lorton as possible.  If there was one thing she had learned between in her times of consciousness- it was that this man was someone she wanted to stay far away from, especially when that woman, Sibley wasn't present.

He laughed at her actions, a smirk crossing his features. "I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted. Do I really scare you that much?"

She didn't respond. She wouldn't incite him if she could help it. Hopefully her silence would persuade him to leave faster.

"You know, Dorei." He said, crouching down so they were nearly eye level. "You really should answer when I speak to you. After all, you're stuck here now. It would do well to get on my good side."

His words, "stuck here now" caught her attention, but she forced her expression to remain neutral. What the hell did he mean by that? Had Tenji refused to cooperate, told them to keep her? The very thought caused beads of sweat to break out on her forehead. That couldn't be true though. He wouldn't do that to her, she refused to believe it.

Lorton smiled. "Oh, so that caught your attention did it? Well, it's true. There is no 'rescuing' in your future. I will be deciding your fate, on behalf of the Templars."

Twyce's thoughts began to race. Lying or not, this didn't bode well for her. He wasn't pressing for information now, like he had been before, so something had to have changed. But what? Tenji saying screw it? Or had the Templars decided letting her go would be too much of a risk? Regardless of the factors at play, it really did boil down to one inevitable fact. She was at this lunatics mercy. It had always been that way, but something in his voice told Twyce that now it was much more serious.

"So, that being said." He stood back up. "I now have a decision to make. Obviously killing you is one option. I do realize the difficulty of that with your...unique situation, but it's not impossible. What are your thoughts on the matter?"

He waited, but she remained silent. He could kill her for all she cared, it certainly was one of the more attractive options out of the current possibilities.

"Still no reply." Lorton said and shook his head, looking regretful. "Perhaps you can't hear me."

He reached down and grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking her upwards. To alleviate the pain from his grasp, she stood up, but it did little to help. The weeks of little food and water had wrecked havoc on her body, make it difficult to keep upright. Her legs were shaking under the weight of her own body.

"I said, 'what are your thoughts on me killing you?' I expect an answer."

She glared at him, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Stubbornness," Lorton said, in an almost wistful tone. "I'd hope you realized now is not the time for such antics."

His grip tightened, causing her head to tilt backwards. "Perhaps I need to remind you of the situation. You're only hope here is for me to take pity on you. You are not a damsel in distress, no one is coming to save you. There will be no daring escape. You are alone. Now, once again, would you like to die?"

"I'm not going to play your sick game." She finally spat. "Do what you want."

He laughed. "Aren't we big and tough? All of this and you are still showing your claws, I suppose I should be impressed."

Twyce tried to look away from him, but he kept her head still, giving it another forcible yank.

"It's a shame to waste so much spirit..." He looked her over, his free hand running a finger along her cheek. "You just need to be tempered is all."

"Go to hell." She spit in his face.

Lorton wiped at the saliva dripping down his cheek, his expression unreadable. Letting out a small sigh, he shook his head. "Well, that wasn't very smart, was it?"

Before she could react, he grabbed her jaw, his fingers forcing their way into her mouth. Twyce gagged and instinctively tried to close her mouth, but Lorton stopped her with his newly established grasp. The pain was considerable, the tendons in her jaw stretching well past their normal limits under the weight of his hand.

"I could break your jaw you know." He said. "I wonder how quick you'd be with your smart ass responses then. One quick tug, and no more talking."

On the word tug, he gave her chin a violent jerk, causing her to cry out in a mixture of both pain and fear. His other hand was still gripping the back of her head, preventing her from moving. Slowly, but surely, she felt him applying more and more pressure to her jaw. The sides of her mouth began to crack, the action too much for the parched state of her lips. Despite her every effort to stop it, a single tear slid out of the corner of her eye.

Lorton's gaze narrowed, his voice cold. "Getting the message now?"

All she could do was to attempt a nod, which ended up being nothing more than a slight twitch of her head.

"Good. Now, apologize."

Twyce stared at him, unsure of how he expected her to form words. Seeing the hesitation, he gave another jerk to her chin. This time, a distinctive 'pop' could be heard. White hot pain shot through her jaw, like a knife embedding itself into the bone. She let out a choked gasp, her legs buckling.

"I'm waiting."

She wasted no time. Twyce responded with a garbled 'sorry,' the word barely recognizable.

Lorton nodded approvingly. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

He finally released her, his hand sliding out of her mouth and letting go of her hair. She crumpled to the floor, one hand cupping her chin tenderly. Pain radiated across her jaw, a persistent throbbing present. She kept her head to the ground and trying to calm her breathing. He hadn't broken her jaw, but she was pretty sure he had dislocated it. She could close her mouth, but her bite felt off

"I think we learned something about each other today." He said. "Along with a valuable lesson for you."

A soft knocking sounded. Twyce heard Lorton walk over to the door and pull it open.

"Sibley, welcome back."

Twyce glanced up. The woman. The one who looked so much like her sister. She took an awkward step into the room, her hands crossed against her chest.

"What happened here?"

"Dorei and I are bonding." He replied. "She's come to realize that manners are of utmost importance."

Something indiscernible flashed across Sibley's face, but Twyce couldn't tell if it was disgust or fear.

"You have a message for her, don't you?" Lorton asked. He looked over at Twyce. "Sibley just came back from meeting with your friend, Tenji."

It was hard not to show the surprise on her face. Still holding onto her chin, Twyce finally sat up. A message from Tenji and they were telling her about it? It could only be bad news then.

Sibley looked at him in surprise. "Lorton, I don't think it's necess--"

"Just tell her what he said."

She sighed, shaking her head. "He asked if you knew where his green jacket is?"

Twyce scoffed. She couldn't help it. His stupid jacket? Out of all the messages he could have sent, he asked that? Was it some sort of code she was missing? At this point, she didn't care. What did it matter, Lorton had it very clear she wasn't going anywhere. The reminder of the conversation caused her to wince. Lorton's gaze never left Twyce, and had she been paying more attention she might have noticed the light that changed in his eye.

"No response?" He continued to stare at her.

"No." She mumbled, trying to keep her jaw movement minimal.

"Speak clearer, we can't hear you."

There was just a hint of edge to his voice, but Twyce recognized it immediately.

"I said no, I don't have a response." Each word caused a fresh wave of pain to wash over her.

"Excellent. Sibley, when you see the Dragon again, you have your message." Lorton nodded. Clapping his hands together he smiled broadly. "I think today has been very productive."

Sibley remained silent, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Giving Twyce one final look, she left the room.

Lorton continued to smile. "We had a rough start today Dorei, but I think you picked it all up rather quickly. We will continue tomorrow."

He was waiting. Twyce nodded numbly, unsure of what else to do, just wanting to get rid of him. For once, luck was on her side. Lorton turned and left, leaving her alone once again.

Monday, November 5, 2012


Character: Taeniel Lenneth
Game: Guild Wars 2

Taeniel was leaving the same way she had arrived -- in the middle of the night.

In the darkness of her room, she stuffed what few items she had brought into her satchel. A few shirts, some pants and socks, undergarments. Nothing fancy or frivolous. Her cloak was hanging on the back of the door, where it had been left to dry, her boots underneath it. On the bed lay two weapons, a worn sword and bow. The sword hadn't been worn by her hand, but purchased like that. It's used condition helping lower the price. The same went for the bow. Taeniel held the hope that when they day came for her to wield those weapons, her attacker would take notice of their battle-worn appearance and attribute it to her. Not true of course, she'd barely knew how to use them. She'd been lucky so far, avoiding any outright attacks on the roads when she traveled.

Packing took her only a few minutes. There was only one final thing to get before she left. The item that had started this whole nightmare. Dropping to her knees, Taeniel reached under the bed, her hands reappearing with a small wooden jewelry box. A gift from her mother on her 20th birthday. How long ago that seemed now. Despite her earlier urgency, Taeniel found herself sitting on the bed. She lifted up her left arm and shook it, which caused a delicate silver bracelet to slide down her wrist. Attached to the bracelet was key, something most people would mistake for a charm. Taeniel unclasped the chain and placed the key into the jewelry box's lock. The lid popped open with ease, a gentle melody filling the silence. It's contents stared up at her. A neat stack of white papers, nearly eligible handwriting scrawled across them. Her father's writing. He never was one for neatness, always in a rush to get his ideas out.

Taeniel sighed, one finger running across the edge of the papers. Of course she had read them. Or rather, tried to read them. The terminology her father used was foreign to her. From what she gathered it was a recipe of some sorts, or maybe directions. But it made no absolutely no sense, and he was no longer around to explain it. All Taeniel was sure of, was that he had wanted her to protect those papers with her life. After all, they had cost him his and her mothers.

She tried not to think about that night. The flames that licked the ceiling, her father covered in blood, him pushing the papers at her. Eight long months since that had happened, and everything Taeniel had known had changed forever. She'd been on the move ever since. His dying words had been brief, but her father had made it abundantly clear that she had to keep moving, that those papers couldn't end up in his killers hands. Whoever they were, she was still uncertain. Truth be told, she tried not to think about it much anymore. All it did was cause more confusion and heart ache. Her father had been a damn doctor after all, what could he have possibly done or known to warrant all this chaos and violence? To cause her to have to be on the move constantly.

Sighing again, Taeniel closed the lid of the jewelry box and removed her bracelet, placing it back on her wrist. She stood up and shoved the box into the satchel, pushing it deep down amongst the clothes. She had arrived at this inn five weeks ago and stayed much longer than she had intended. A human living in a Norn village was sure to draw attention that she didn't need.

She placed some money on the dresser counter. It was more than enough to cover her bill and pulled on her cloak and boats. Grabbing her weapons and satchel,  Taeniel paused in the doorway giving the room one last glance. She wasn't looking forward to getting back on the road, especially out here. Her cloak wasn't very efficient at protecting her from the snow. But there was no other choice. After all, staying in one place no doubt meant certain death.

Quietly, she opened the door and slipped out into the frigid night.