-Feel My Bones [Soldier]-

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Timestamp: Twenty fifth day of Melora, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

There seemed to be numerous ghosts in the ruined city below, and only one lonely ghost above. A gust of northern winds hit the draconess and she flapped and twisted her wings to get them back to a normal flying position as she battled the vicious winds. When the wind subsided some, the draconess tilted the edge of her twelve foot wing span and spiraled above the city. Below her, spread out like a bloated corpse, was Archadoon. Perhaps the one city Kour'el would ever think of as home. The only city where dracons weren't grudgingly allowed entry, and where her scale brothers and sisters made up a significant portion of the population. Only the Hidden City, which she had never seen offered a more safe haven.

It seemed that time had been as cruel to the city below her as it had been to her. Licking her lips, the draconesses golden eyes gazed downward, picking out some details through the destruction. Looked like a fire or something from up here. It was enough even to make her cold heart thaw a bit. She had found acceptance and friendship here. It was possible she had lost family members here. She didn't know where Links, Aalhari or Rak was, perhaps they were safe elsewhere or perhaps they had burned up.

Her reptilian gaze shifted eastward, towards her own manor safely tucked away across the plains between Jaedaxia and Tearsfall. Perhaps her little ones were lost even more to her, she had left Zird here and fled west, ending up in Silrosia, and from there... she didn't remember. The draconess frowned, and chewed on a lip as she pondered the last few eras, ignoring the small flashes of pain where her fangs pierced the thin scales and skin.

Wiping away the black blood that swelled up with a rag wrapped hand, the draconess turned her eyes earthward once more to the destruction spread before her. It was such a waste. All the wonderfully dark, gothic buildings that had been lost. Likely when reconstruction was done, Archadoon would be as cookie cutter and boring as the rest of the empire. Remembering the people in Jaedaxia who had been cowed after the Imperial blockade and the ever winter, the draconess hissed with distaste, wondering if the people of Archadoon had lost their spirits as well after the fire.

Once more angling her wings, the emerald scaled creature headed away from the ruined city. There was nothing for her here.

[Soldier]

Gorlak was hungry. Ever sinse he had been summoned here by that accursed thing, he had been stuck on guard duty. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to hunt, rend, eat and bathe in the blood of some helpless, hapless mortal. He grumbled softly to himself as he brought a hand up to tug lightly on one of the horns that curved over his hean and down his back. He was about to curse his bad luck and pummel a lesser Imp to do his post for him when a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The horned head turned, massive golden eyes taking in sharp details even from this distance. Thick, rubery lips in a canine maw spread into an evil smile, revealing sharp, black fangs. Prey.

Thick, rubbery wings snapped out into a huge wingspan and the Demon haunched powerful legs, the muscles bunching to propel him high into the air. With a wicked grin, Gorlak banked and turned, heading toward the retreating figure. Kour, for her part, didn’t notice the Demon gliding up behind her on silent wings until a thick, powerfully clawed hand clamped tightly on her tail. A second hand gripped her tail just under the first, and whoever it was started to work his way up, growling ferally.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Lost in thought, relying on instinct and experience to make the minute changes of her wing position and body posture, Journal flew over Archadoon. Her thoughts had turned towards her manor, where her family was supposed to be. She ached to see Eoin and Linnea again, it had been so long since she had left them in Lord and Fig's care, abandoning them like she had promised never to do when they had been born already fatherless.

Likely Journal was the worst mother, but she had good reason to leave her little ones behind. Her shattered mind was unable to cope with the job of motherhood. And seeing the fear and hearing their cries her little ones uttered when she had tried to mother them as an elf had been to much. She had fled for Silrosia, leaving them in better care than she could provide. At least with Fire and Fig, the twins and Alahari would have a sensible draconic upbringing, with her they would have nothing. Weighing heavily on the draconesses diseased mind was the quiet, terrible question. Would her family recognize her, from the vibrant fun loving female she had been to the gaunt, crazed creature she had become?

She had wrestled with her thoughts the entire flight here, wondering if perhaps it would just be better to remain out of her families life, and allow them to grow up without her and her instability. Perhaps she would just watch them from afar, and be content in the fact that the twins were to young to remember her, and hopefully that any stories they were given about her were good ones, of her adventures and deeds throughout the empire.

Then her rambling, disjointed thoughts were shattered by a hand on her tail. At first she was not alarmed, this was Archadoon, she assumed it was a fellow dracon, one versed in the call who had masked his signal and was playing a playful trick on her in greeting. Then she turned and her black blood went cold in her veins at what she saw. The thing grabbing her was most definitely not a dracon. It looked like Michael did, except with wings. It also didn't look like it had friendly intentions. Kour'el was not about to become a snack for an overgrown toad from the pit though. As quickly as it had frozen, her blood exploded through her veins, as the bloodlust that was never far from the surface erupted.

Snarling as viciously as the demon was, the draconess drew her long knife and saex, and twisted in mid air, turning back to meet the monstrosity with a knife to the face. If experience had taught her anything about flying, it was that the larger the creature the hard it was to maneuver. While her own wingspan reached over twelve feet, this thing was bigger, and heavier. Likely she could dance circles around it, or loose it in a wild run through the city below. All she had to do was to get the horrid thing to release her tail.

[Soldier]

Gorlak smiled. This was the first time he had prey so feisty. She would be fun for a long time before he devoured the flesh from her bones. The Daemon dodged back from the girl’s attack, his wings snapping to catch the air as he glided, drawing a net from his Human-skin belt. His other hand drew a long-bladed knife, the blade radiating evil in such waves, Kour could literally feel it crawling up her spine. “Do you wish to play, then?” he asked in perfect Draconish, his teeth peeling back in a canine growl. He flapped his wings, moving with a gracefulness that belied his size, explaining in great, lewd detail what he planned to do with Kour’s body both before and after he killed her.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Hissing, Kour'el spiraled away from the demon, keeping burning golden eyes on the beast as he drew his weapons. A net and a dagger. The net was more dangerous to the draconess, even if the knife was an unspeakably evil object that made her teeth ache and her scales stand up on end. The emerald creature watched the hand warily, ready to dart away or slash at it if the fool threw it at her.. If she got tangled up in a net at this height, she would either die when she landed on a building or ground below, or she would become the demon's plaything if the fething thing caught her before she splattered across the ground.

Baring her teeth at him, her own weapons held defensively, the long knife held against her forearm just below the tip of her snout, and her saex used to guard her belly. As the demon detailed it's plans for her, Kour'el snorted with laughter at the creature. Her own draconi was accented, some words clipped short. However her voice was steady, with a hint of dark glee tinging it. The draconess was not afraid of this creature, it merely would provide her with a challenge, or it would end her misery once and for all.

'I've bested better than you. Besides, I don't play with lesser creatures, I just kill them. In more creative ways then you could ever dream of in your filthy pit. Try and catch me ugly." With that,Kour'el closed her wings abruptly and began falling. Twisting in the air to right herself, the draconess began to pick a flight path through the twisting rubble and streets of Archadoon.

[Soldier]

This was going to be deliscious. Tucking his leathery wings in close to his body, the Daemon dropped into a dive, rocketing fast behind her. “Run, little rabbit!” he called, snapping his wings wide as he leveled out just over the roofs of the city. Golden eyes blinked slowly as nostrils huffed, looking for the scent of his prey. Ah… There she was! With a flap of massive wings, the Daemon dropped under rooftop level and soared on, following the scent and sounds of his new toy. It was time.

A quick glance behind her told Kour’el she had left her pursuer behind, the Daemon lost in the curves of the streets. Unfortunately, she found herself in the charred ruins of the fire, noting the charred buildings and a few bloated, burned bodies still lying in the street. As she passed an alley, a large form blasted out of the darkness, smashing into the Draconess and knocking her from the air, sending her sprawling in the dust of the shattered street. Rolling and tumbling, Kour managed to keep her wings from being injured, even as she suffered cuts and bruises.

A pair of large, scaly feet landed next to her, and the Draconess spotted her persuer, the net coming to settle over her. “You’ll never run far enough!” crowed her captor, reaching down to bring a heavy fist into her eye. Kour then saw only darkness…

- = - = -

Kour awoke to find herself inside a small cell, the single door locked from the outside. The walls were solide granite, the door oak banded with iron. A tiny window let in very little light, but Kour could still see a strip of the sky. A small bench where she had been lying was the only furniture in the room. From outside came the scrape of footsteps on the stone as something approached.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

The demon was bigger and heavier, his wings were longer and wider than hers. In the air, that was a liability and Kour had no compunctions about taking advantage of it. It was either she survived, and maybe, just maybe, splat his ugly face all over the side of a building, or she would be turned into kibble for a drooling, evil demon. After she had been used for this other unspeakable lusts. Demon kibble and love slave were not in Kour'el's job descriptions.

Panting, she ducked a beam as she zipped in between the fire gutted remains of buildings, and the area's where reconstruction was going on. Eyes focused in front of her, the draconess ignored the sharp whistling the wind was producing in her frilled ears, and the tears that accompanied it. A mistake at this speed, in this type of setting, and she would end up smeared across a brick wall. However, her wings worked smoothly with the messages sent by her mind, and she was not afraid to die. The calm, cold, calculating part of her mind was sitting back, analyzing everything that rush by her at top speed, making the minute adjustments needed to keep her hurtling through the streets.

The emerald draconess twisted and turned through the streets and buildings, wings flaring, folding and flapping to keep her moving and safe. She ignored any other people or creatures on the street as she rocketed through the streets, they were beneath her notice on this suicidal jaunt through town. When last she had spared a quick glance behind her, the demon was gone. Still she plowed forward, a few more quick turns and she was out above some of the worst fire damage yet. A whiff of air told her there were dead below her, the tangy smell of cooked meat and rot leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

She was almost home free when she was slammed into from the side, the demon had taken a different route but had kept up with her. Screeching as she tumbled down and slammed into the ground. Her speed in the air was turned from a graceful retreat into a clumsy, terrible roll. She felt the skin below the blue and green scales bruise and tear open, patches of scales ripped away in her tumble, as she rolled over debris. Likely broken glass and twisted metal and other assorted things that could kill her should she roll over them the wrong way. She had tucked in her wings as soon as she had hit the ground, and was now praying that they would remain in tact. It was the only thought that was in her head, and it filled it like a shrill whine. savemywingssavemywingssavemywings

She the battered draconess finally came to a rest, she spat out a wad of black tinged spit, she had bitten her lip somewhere in the mess. She felt the slow ooze of her black demon tainted blood running down her chin, and in several other places her scales were stained black. When the demon landed near her, Kour'el looked up with one baleful golden eye. As the net settled on her, she snarled through her bloody lips. "I will kill you." Kour promised the creature before it hit her and she sank into blissful darkness.

~~*~~

Slowly the draconess awoke, lying on her side in a small dank cell. Swearing under her breath at the foul taste of dried blood in her mouth, Kour slowly sat up. Several hurts loudly made themselves known to the draconess and she hissed sharply through gritted fangs. Gingerly she stood, and spread out her wings, giving them a few flaps to see if they were damaged at all. Satisfied she was in one piece, sort of, the draconess took some time to eye her prison. The demon was not present and as far as she could tell, he hadn't done anything to her. Yet.

Even as she stood pondering her prison, the draconess heard someone or something approaching. Fire appeared in the draconess' golden eyes as the familiar comforting wash of rage filled her. It offered protection from her pain and fear. Golden eyes burning, the draconess darted behind the door. One hand patted her thigh, seeing if the beast had left her with her weapons. Even if it hadn't, Kour'el had her long, wickedly sharp talons and fangs. She was not some pampered, defenseless soft skin female. She would fight her captor until she escaped or he killed her.

Behind the door, Kour'el waited. If the thing entered her cell she would attack it and kill it. Hopefully it would be a painfully long death too. She wanted to hear her captor scream and beg for mercy.

[Soldier]

The figure who entered wasn’t the Daemon who had captured Kour’el, but a rather hideous thing that might have been alive once. A large hand whipped around with incredible speed, snatching Kour from midair by her throat and squeezing. She found herself staring at a large, gaunt Zombielike creature, its teeth clearly visible between the stretched lines of its lipless mouth. Wicked hooks, rusted chains, and a shuddrsome array of various torture implements were hanging from the creature’s few remaining strips of dead, withered flesh. Its free clawed hand eagerly gripped the coils of a well-used whip. The hand around Kour’s throat squeezed harder, red eyes boring into Kour’el’s as her vision started to go black.

“Hold!” came the voice from the door, and the hand around Kour’s throat went slack, filling the Draconess’ lungs with much-needed air. The hand opened to drop the emerald, bloody Draconess into an undignified heap at the monstrosity’s feet. The owner of the voice stepped into the Draconess’ view, revealing a Human man, no older than twenty. Thick black hair covered his head, and from head to toe, a black robe covered him. His hand held a staff tipped with a small, Humanoid skull. “Well, now. My most deepest apologies. I see you met one of my guards. Not to worry. He is being properly punished for harming you. Now… what, precisely, is your errend over my territory?”

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

To say that Kour'el was surprised when she was plucked from midair by a large, ugly undead creature was a bit of an understatement. Snarling in surprise, her hands had at first tried to pry the things hands from her throat. It proved to be stronger than her though. So the bruised female began to sink her claws into whatever bits of the creature she could reach, digging them in deep. The thing didn't seem to notice, and her struggles got weaker and weaker, until she was limp in the creatures arms and her vision began to fail. Still she glared at the creature, meeting it's stare with her own defiant one.

Dimly she heard the voice command the creature to stop and felt a new pain as she hit the floor at the undead creature's feet. Gasping and spluttering, she sucked in the life giving air, her taloned hands clutching at her throat. She glared at the new set of feet that appeared, noting that of course, it was a softskin who had imprisoned her and claimed the sky as his own. Snarling at him, she spat on his shoes and rolled away, Swiftly she gained her footing, talons held defensively in front of her, watching the human and the undead thing.

"I didn't see your name on it." Was the first words to this man that left the draconesses mouth. Her words rasped and scratched her abused throat, and she coughed a bit at the end. They were also said with as much acid as the crazed female was capable of producing, which was a fair amount. If words could kill, they would have both been melted down to mush at her feet. She was prepared to defend herself if either attacked her, just because they had taken her knives didn't mean she was weaponless.

[Soldier]

The Human chuckled softly, leaning on his staff as if he were on a nature hike instead of watching his Undead throttle an innocent in front of him. From behind his legs came a small creature, a cat, rubbing up against his legs and growling. Even in her addled state, Kour could tell the beast had been sewn together from bits and pieces of different felines, the fur falling off in places to reveal rotten meat. The Human bent and scooped the creature into his arms, his hand softly stroking the Undead head. “Well, of course my name’s not on it, you silly girl. That would mean I’d have to chisel my name on every building and road! But that doesn’t mean it’s not mine!”

A gesture to the Undead monstrosity sent it lumbering forward. The wounds Kour struck on it did nothing but match the wounds it already had. A viscous right hook sent Kour sprawling onto the stone floor. “Bring her,” the Human said curtly, and Kour had a final image of an Undead foot coming up to strike her right between the eyes. Then there was blackness.

-=-=-=-=-=-

A splash of water brought Kour awake quickly to see her two tormenters standing in front of her. The Undead thing held a dripping bucket in its twisted paw, its unseeing eyes staring right at the Draconess. The Human had finally gotten rid of his cat, and stood caressing the shriveled flesh on the Undead’s chest. “Remarkable, is he not?” he asked in a voice that held reverence and a tinge of awe. “It’s known as an Inquisitor. As you can tell by the name, I created it for one purpose. It lives to inflict pain. Think of it. The ultimate torturer.” He brought his eyes down and smiled, the smile showing a bit too much teeth for a healthy Human. “And you get to be his playmate for awhile. Oh, I do hope you last longer than his last ones… If you do, I’ll give you a prize!”

With that, he turned and left, leaving the pair alone. Kour was able to see she was in a dark room, carved out of solid granite. Her wrists were chained tightly over her head, the links bolted into the wall. Her ankles had been chained to the wall as well, giving her precious little room to maneuver. The Inquisitor turned his dead eyes to his captive and actually smiled, the tendons in his cheeks popping sickeningly. A dead hand reached to the table next to him and took hold of a heavy canvas cloth covering it. With a flourish, the cloth was thrown aside, revealing the tools of his trade.

Saws, corkscrews, knives, hooks and other, nastier items lay in neat rows. The Undead thing never bothered to clean, and each item was sticky and grimy with old blood and rust. A dessicated finger trailed lovingly down the bone handle of a nasty-looking machete, before the fingers curled around the handle of a club. Picking it up, the creature started to advance on his victim, the club held out at arms length as it came closer.

OOC: You were right, Jade. I DO feel better!

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Innocent was a subjective term when used to describe Kour'el. If she was being judged on what she had done today, she hadn't killed anyone or tried to besides the undead thing and that was in self defense. However if she was being judged on the rest of her life, Kour'el was screwed.

However she wasn't as bad off as the cat that entered the room, it looked terrible and smelled worse. She matched it's growls with snarls of her own and was glad the smelly thing hadn't tried to come play with her tail. Oddly it reminded her of her own feline companion, back safe and sound at her manor. Of course, it also reminded her of her lost family and why she had lost them and her mind closed quickly on that, a wall coming down between the past and the present.

As the first punch sent her sprawling, Kour'el spat out blood and wiped her mouth, grinning through her black blood stained teeth at the insane human, matching his insanity with her own brand of madness. "To weak to do your own dirty work I'm guessing?" The mercifully the draconess was sent from wretched alertness back into darkness.

~~*~~

She awoke hissing at the water. The undead minion held the bucket that had held the water used to bring her bake to the waking world, and Kour'el was disappointed to find herself awake once more. Apparently her suffering was not enough yet, and she would experience the hospitality of this deranged softskin and his pets before she went to curse the gods in person.

She watched the human caress and gloat about his creation with a bored look on her gaunt features. Obviously the man was also a necrophiliac who was having carnal relations with his dead thing, he seemed to love it that much. As he turned to leave, Kour'el aimed a glob of more bloody spittle at his retreating back before she turned her dark, dead eyes to the undead creature, her teeth bared in a death's head grin, matching the ghoul's own attempts at smiling.

As the creature played with it's dirty tools, likely used on other victims and when in bed with it's master, the draconess settled back, trying to move as much as she could. It wasn't the frantic struggling of a person scared for their life, it was lazy, as if she didn't care one way or another if she was able to free herself or not. Her wings and tail were pinched behind her, but she refused to moved them. If she died down here, which seemed likely, she would die with her attachment to the skies in tact and untouched. The one thing that could bring a form of clarity to her lost soul. They were scared enough with the X brands she had received long ago, she would not have them harmed further.

When the creature finally selected it's instrument of torture, Kour'el looked at the club and back at it's soulless eyes with her own mad gaze before she spat another glob of bloody saliva. This time it was aimed at the thing and after she laughed at it, taunting it on, hoping it would relieve her of her torment once and for all.

[Soldier]

The Undead monster brought its club around in a viscious swing, up between Kour’el’s legs. The Inquisitor almost seemed to be smiling as it brought the weapon back for a second strike, hitting the exact same area. There was a loud crack as Kour’el’s pelvic bone cracked, sending waves of agony through her body. A third blow landed in her lower stomach, driving the air from her lungs with a “woosh.” The foul thing then moved back, laying the club gently on the table and trailing a finger lovingly over it. The thing seemed to take its time selecting a second tool, touching each tool as if it was touching a lover. Finally, it scooped up a bone-handled knife, the blade covered with rust and dried blood.

The thing turned its dead eyes on its captive and started to advance, bringing the blade up to lick it with a dried tongue. It stopped less than a foot from the bound Draconess, a dried, mummified hand snaking up on a muscular, green-scaled, naked thigh. There was a soft moan from the dried throat, right before the other hand sunk the blade into the flesh of Kour’s thigh, the tip of the weapon scraping off the bone. He left the weapon buried in the muscle as he brought his finger up, licking the black blood from his talon as his dead eyes continued to bore into Kour. After leaving the blade inside the wound long enough, the beast reached down, grabbed it, gave it a twist and yanked it out hard. A torrent of black blood flowed down Kour’s leg, to pool on the stone floor beneath her.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Music: "Tainted Love" ~ Marilyn Manson

The gaunt draconess had continued to laugh at the first blow, in fact the blow only made her laugh harder at the undead creature. At the second blow, when she felt her bones breaking, the frequency of her laughter had changed, sliding up several octaves, toll her laughter resembled more like the whistle of a tea pot when it reached the boiling point then any form of humour. However, as she bite through her lip and arched against her restraints she was still laughing. The maniacal desperate laughter only stopped when she was struck in the belly and had the wind knocked out her her.

They would find out eventually that nothing they could do to the wretched female that would break her. Simply because in their simple minds and brutal methods there was nothing they could do to her that would do anything more than bring pain to the shell of her body. Physical pain merely served to block the memories of being having her very being shaped by outside forces into something she was not, as well as the painful memories of her children, and the pity she had seen in others eyes. Kour'el welcomed pain, it allowed her to dissociate, separating her mind from feelings that are causing anguish. Her hunger pains were the most simple way of doing this without marring her body with more scars.

By the time the thing came back, a knife in it's clawed hand this time, the draconess was giggling weakly, having regained some composure, her features stretched into a mad look of glee, as tears ran down her cheeks. Whether from the pain or from laughing to much, no one could really say. She did flinch away from the things hand on her thigh, not wanting it to touch her anywhere with it's bare hands and get filth on her scales.

When the blade sunk into her thigh, the gaunt draconess jerked, throwing back her head and howling with laughter at the thing. The twisting of the blade increased the volume of her laughter, though it trailed off as the black tainted blood ran down her leg. Finally Kour'el was left hanging from her wrists, laughing weakly, breathlessly in gasps while her crazed eyes waited, begged for the creature to continue it's ministrations.

[Soldier]

The pain intensified until finally, it stopped. Kour had lost all track of time, and she was weak in her restraints. Raising her head, she saw the Human standing in front of her, just out of reach of her talons and jaws. “Bring her!” he said cheerfully, turning and walking out the door. He didn’t even have the decensy to watch and see if the Inquisitor followed his instructions. The Inquisitor advanced and balled a fist, striking Kour across the snout with a viscious backswing, sending her into blessed darkness.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Kour awoke to find herself tied nude to a large, steel table. The wire cables holding her dug into her wrists, her ankles and around her throat. Her wings were stretched wide and spread along the large top of the table. Her head was pounding, and she could swear she felt ice inside her skull. The cackle of the mad Human told her she was right next to him, and he was enjoying something. He held her tail in his hands, stroking it like he had the Undead cat earlier, but when she awoke, he dropped it as if burned. “Aah, you’re awake,” he said cheerfully, picking up a scalpel. He trailed the blade along the bone of her arm, splitting scales and skin as he spread the skin apart, literally dissecting the Draconess while she was awake and alert.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

"Enter Sandman" ~ Metallica

Time lost all meaning for the draconess, as she hung by her wrists, suffering cuts, beatings and other forms of torture that served no purpose except to cause pain to the broken female by the undead golem. Though out the abuse, she continued to laugh, sometimes loud braying peels of mad laughter escaped her, when the pain was particularly intense, other times, she giggled like a giddy school girl when the football captain smiled her way, other times, it was a weepy breathless sort of laugh but she had created an armour of sorts with her laughter, and didn't cease, even after her stomach had began to hurt, and her throat burned from using her voice so much after living a fairly mute existence for the last two eras.

It was at one point where she was laughing weakly when she realized the pain had stopped. Lifting her heavy head she meet the human's gaze for a moment, her amber eyes burning with pain and her dark glee. Her mouth was still pulled tightly in her death head's grin and she cackled at him like an old hag, a wart on the end of her nose would as she flew across the dark sky on a broom would. Then her old friend the flesh golem returned to her side, and the draconess was actually happy to see the creature close by. Her world had shrunk down to her body, the table with his tools, and the golem. The pain, her laughter and his ugly face were the only constants in her life now.

Then her laughter was cut short as the beast beat her into unconsciousness one more.

~~*~~

When she came to, the dracone