Author Topic: The World of Azmodal  (Read 2701 times)

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Re: The World of Azmodal
« Reply #45 on: September 10, 2016, 05:52:12 pm »
Pace was pulled forcibly to his feet at the end of catch pole around his neck. "Look what's happened to you now." whispered the greyed old husk walking to his right. "You're going to be chained in a cell for sure this time. They'll put an iron on your neck and you'll struggle against it until your eyes bulge and you neck bleeds from the work of your nails scrabbling to pry it loose." Pace thrashed wildly, trying to get away from that speaker of ill portent. "GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU'RE DEAD! JUST LEAVE ME BE! THE DEAD SHOULDN'T INTERFERE WITH THE LIVING!" The outburst shocked and confused his captors, and for a moment Pace didn't feel the guards grip slip on the handle of the catch pole. When he felt it strike the ground though, he realized what had happened and seized the advantage. "What do you think you will accomplish? They will hunt you to the ends of the earth. If not them, then some other. Where will you go?" Pace found the spirit and bolted for it. He would kill two birds with one stone. To his captors, it simply looked like he was running wildly to the woods on the right in a desperate attempt to escape their custody. To Pace though, his charge took him straight through through the grim apparition, dissipating it for the time being. There would be another, sooner rather than later. "Get the mad man!" Pace felt someone grab for the pole. For an instant, he saw the young face of the guard making the attempt at restraining him and in the next instant it's place was taken up by Paces foot, a spray of blood as the guard nose broke, and the agony of kicking something you really shouldn't. "Gah! Order in the line! You men, get these prisoners under control! Someone grab that damn prisoner!" Chaos had erupted on the trail. The other prisoners were trying to take advantage of the commotion Pace had caused and seemed to be doing a fair job of fighting back even with bound hands. "Bah! Men! Draw blades! Get this gods damned line back in order, even if it means cutting down every last convict." With that in mind, Pace dove for the tree line.

It was some time before he stopped running, and when he did it was no work of his. The catch pole was still around his neck and he was forced to stop as the crook at the other end of the handle caught on something and the rope tightened around his neck, laying him flat on his back. Hard to breath like this, It brought him back to the moment though. He lay still and listened. There was no sound of men in pursuit, just the song of bird and insects. The whispering of the wind and the dull drone of the forest. The voices hadn't come back yet either, so there was also that to be thankful for. He pushed against the ground with his feet, pushing his head up past his end of the pole. With that done, he could loosen the noose with his hands. His captors had left him his belongings, what little he had, and their search had been poor enough to allow him to retain ownership of his knife. With a bit of difficulty, his bindings were soon off as well. He sat for a time more in the area enjoying the quiet and thinking on what had got him into this situation. As usual, it was the voices. Just a bit of fruit was all he wanted, but the voices had come back at exactly the wrong moment. He thought he had been caught and ran. When he realized what had happened, he went back to try again. His strange behavior on the first try had set him apart from the fruit stands usual clientele though, and when he came back the stands proprietor made sure to keep a close eye on him. "Should have just gone to a different stand..." He said aloud. "You have worse things to worry about." Pace rolled his eyes. The peace and quiet didn't last long. "Just go away. How long must I put up with you lot harassing me?" He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there. The voices. He wished just once, that he could meet a ghost that didn't want to menace him. Just once would be nice. "You're a murderer." Pace covered his ears, little good he knew it would do. The voices were repeating that word. "Murderer." over and over again, working it up to a chorus "Murderer, murderer, murderer" He couldn't take it anymore. "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! STICK THE GRAVE DIRT BACK IN YOUR MOUTHS AND SHUT THE HELL UP!" The forest fell silent. Even the birds had gone quiet at that.

In the deafening silence, Pace heard a branch snap and spun to see someone emerging from the trees opposite the direction he had fled. "Hello?"
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