Day or night, it all looked a different shade of dark in the marshlands. Live trees had given way to dead decaying stumps and twisted branches. The frogs had stopped croaking miles ago and not a single bird chirped as Kit stumbled her way through the muck.
The huntress was a mess. Disheveled and exhausted, her bloodshot eyes stared ahead vacantly as she pressed forward. Her once healthy body had become a madman’s canvas of festering death, covered head to toe in streaks of mud, a background for bright splotches of blood and putrid infection that oozed from her wounds.
Most odd was the makeshift backpack. An old potato sack was lashed to her back and a scruffy dog the size of an infant poked its head up through the drawstrings. Any observer could see that dog’s eyes had clouded over; it did not move, it did not sniff or wag its tail. It was like the pup had been frozen in time, expectantly propped up the shoulder of its human companion.
Stumbling as her feet found yet another camouflaged puddle, Kit pitched forward. Her hand was all that kept both woman and dog from sprawling face first in the disheartening muck on the marsh floor. It really made no sense for them to keep walking like this but with her judgment lost in the grip of infection and fever, the only thing left to rely on was instinct.
Don't you worry none lil buddy, were almost there.
Like an animal newly released into the wilds, it was instinct that forced her to get back up, fight the fatigue and keep moving through the long cold night. Gnarled, long dead root mere inches from her head called her attention; slowly, her bloodshot eyes followed its pointing finger to what lay beyond.
There it is Gus. Home. Kit did not question the thought, did not question where this place was or what it was. She simply knew in her gut that they had arrived at their destination.
Just ahead, a vast monstrosity loomed on the coastline. A corrupted cathedral, outlined against the fog of the sea, beautiful in all its ghastly glory. Under any normal circumstance she would have run the other way, but normal was no longer a factor. Death called her to come take her place in the afterlife and Kit would not make him wait.
Staggering legs got them as far as the jagged steps leading to the door. The warm glow coming from the cathedral’s entrance was only a stone’s throw away but she was so tired. Sinking down to a knee, she unstrapped the pup from her back and then settled into the corner.
“I think we best just stay right here Gussy.” Her voice was weak; it cracked as she held the pup in her lap, fingers stroking its head as if she had failed to notice that he was no longer alive. “Showin up all unannounced like, is just plain impolite. Death’ll come when he is good’n ready fer us.“ She told the pup before settling back with a contented sigh.
Propped up in the corner of the stairs, a soft wind cooled her fevered cheeks. Kit laid her head back, resting against the cold stone behind her like it was a feather pillow. Weary eyes slowly drifted closed. A picture of quiet repose. From the look of her, it was as if this was all normal and she was only a girl taking advantage of some summers day opportunity, a nap in the sunshine with her loyal pup by her side.
Soul had been sitting near the Cathedral door standing guard. It had been a quiet day - as usual. But nearby, he suddenly heard what sounded like...talking? Yes, talking! He sat up and looked around, trying to find the source for a minute before zeroing in on the nearby girl clambering towards the Cathedral.
Aw, crap. We've been found! He took out his dagger and jumped towards the girl, scrambling across the stones for a moment before seeing her collapse near the stairs. He switched gears - she wasn't a threat anymore. She was in trouble. Sliding to a stop, he stood in front of her, crouching down quickly. "Hey! You're not supposed to be here, y'know." He gave her a quick smile, even though she was in bad condition, and gave her a quick look over. "Doesn't matter though, you're in death's realm. Doubt you can even hear me still."
She was still alive, but barely. This reminded him of when Elise had killed him - his final moments had been much like this. Although his body had been in better condition, at the least. Giving her a slightly concerned look (although it probably didn't look that way; his visage wasn't pleasant) he reached out and picked her up. "If you can hear me, just stay calm. Aaaand oh gods you're heavier than I thought." He staggered a bit but managed to keep her in his arms, even reaching out to grab the dog's bag, keeping him steady on her stomach.
With that, he began to walk up the stairs, coming into the doorway. "Karthus! Master! Where are you? Someone needs your help!" He began staggering into the sanctuary, and if he had had any lungs, he'd probably be breathing heavily. He looked down at the girl's face. "Don't worry, the Master will make you better. Not alive...but still better. I hope." With that, he softly lay the girl and her dog on the floor.
All are equal in death; it's just that some people are more equal than others.
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 7, 2013 2:17:15 GMT -5
Karthus was cross enough with the recent death of Leviathan. Now bumbling Soul wanted his attention, drawing his attention away from both tracking down Leviathan's killers and further drawing it from his plans in Noxus? This only resulted in Karthus growing more cross. However, Soul was not one to ask for his assistance without reason. . . . Rather, Soul sounded like he actually needed help this time, and it was a situation more pressing than a wild direboar pinning him into a corner.
A chill would have swept over Kit and Soul, had they still the sense in their bodies to feel such a sensation, as a pinprick of shadowy mist began to spread behind Soul. The mist quickly grew to humanoid size before fading away and revealing Karthus within, his glowing yellow eyes flared in frustration. "Soul, what did you do no-...." The lich's agitated rasp was cut short as he saw the girl carried in Soul's arms. She seemed to be well-built in life, and also just recently dead.....and fate had brought her unto Karthus' doorstep.....? Perhaps today was not such a waste after all. Death had plans for this one.
"Thank you, Soul, for alerting me. You were wise to do so." Karthus' tone swung from angered to relatively pleasant in but a few seconds. Drawing upon the ancient magics which bound his soul eternally to Death's will, Karthus channeled a fragment of this power into the girl's recently-dead form, tying her soul to her corpse if but for a few moments. Before she could champion Death's cause, she must first sign the contract.
Kit would feel as if she were in a dream, a mote of life brought back into her deathly form....But this was just a vestige, a ghost of reality. The first thing she would notice was that she was being carried by a creature composed of orange, cold flames clad in black armor. The next thing she would realize was that this creature stood across a far more fearsome form, the very personage of Death himself - A skeletal being whose glowing yellow eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. It was the skeleton which spoke first.
"She has awoken, Soul. You need not carry her any longer." The lich rasped, before addressing Kit directly. "Welcome to the realm of the dead, young one.....Tell me, what is your name, and what brings you to this place?" The skeletal being cocked his head to the side, seeming genuinely interested in such a question.
"Hey! ...not supposed to be..." A voice, fading in and out at odd intervals barged in on her peaceful respite. Kit sighed, not bothering to open her eyes as she responded. Course I am. I got an appointment. She frowned, feeling a bit miffed that anybody would think she would just barge on in like some kinda trespasser.
"...Doubt you.. even hear me still." Course I can hear ya! I’m talkin at ya ain’t I? Geez she thought, I may be at his door but death himself would have to be more competent than this... musta sent an underling.
"If you can hear ...stay calm. Aaaand oh gods you're heavier than....” Hey now! I may not be one of those city folk twig girls but I ain’t that heavy. Kit protested as she felt her body rising. Wait, don’t ferget Gus. He’s too little to be all by his self. She felt the angel prop Gus up and breathed a relieved thank you.
"Kart..as! Mas.. Where are ... needs your help!" The angel began calling for someone, but it wasn’t death. Hey now hold on. Ya’ll are makin some kinda mistake! I know who I came to find and it ain’t nobody named Catface. She said, trying to open her eyes and put up a struggle, or at least she thought she was trying anyway. Nothing much seemed to be happening.
“Don't wo... the Master ...make you... Not alive...but still... hope." The not so angelic angel told her; of course this only made her worry more. The master? What kinda master calls himself Catface anyhow?
"Thank you, Soul, for alerting me. You were wise to do so." Master Catface had made an appearance judging by the sound of things. Kit tried once again to open her eyes, but the suckers felt like they weighed 20 pounds each. Well this is awkward. She thought with what she could only assume was a frown.
Listen Mister, you should know that “I have me an appointment to keep.” Suddenly, her own words rang her ears and like a weight had been lifted off a spring, her eyes flew open. Everything was in sharp focus. The first thing she saw was the supposed angel holding on to her, the being looked more like hellfire and brimstone then the whispy things her mother had always talked about. “Huh… I figured an angel’d look a mite different. Thank ya all the same though.” She told the being, her brow cocked up curiously as it lowered her to her feet.
The whole thing felt so surreal. Her words echoed around in her head till she was sure she hadn't really spoken at all, but at least the pain was gone. Sadly she didn't have time to ponder what was going on. Not a moment later, Catface began firing questions at her faster than a hextech rifle.
Still clinging to Gus in his tater sack, Kit turned toward the sound of his voice and the sight that greeted her made her blood run cold. Holy mother of a puppy’s uncle... It is death. Refusing to close her eyes again, Kit recovered as best she could. After taking a moment to process what he had asked, she gave him an answer. “Um… Well howdy Mister Death. Thank ya kindly fer the welcome. Names Kit.”
With a step forward she tried to act as if this was all perfectly natural. Kit shifted Gus to one arm and held her other hand out as if to shake his. “Er... well Kit Dawnstar to be exact. Pleased ta meet ya.” She hefted the bundle in her arm up a bit, “This here’s Gus. Yer gonna have to pardon the little feller for not sayin hello. He’s had a real rough week.” explaining things as the skeletal visage shook her hand.
“As fer what we're doin here I kinda figured YOU would already know. See, we weren’t gonna make it and so I thought I'd just keep walkin till we found you or till you found us. Turns out I didn’t have to go very far after that. Found ourselves here and just kinda knew we were in the right place.”
When she stopped speaking, the world suddenly seemed hollow, like she might slip away under the curious gaze of the being before her. She hugged Gus tightly to her chest she spoke up again. “Um. If it ain’t too much trouble Mr Death… or even Mr Catface if ya prefer. I was hopin ya might be inclined to maybe let me an Gus stay together? Were all the family we got anymore and... Well sir, ill need his help to find everybody after... ” Her voice died in her throat as she looked up at the skeletal visage of Death, withering till all that remained was a pained plea.
((Sorry about that little post. I'll take care of it in a bit.))
Soul had long since gotten used to Karthus's entrances, and laying Kit down, he relaxed slightly. I guess I made it in time then... As Karthus resurrected her, he looked over her quickly before responding to her comments. "Huh - wait, me? An angel?" He chuckled a bit. "I-I'm flattered, honest. But I'm not...well..." If he'd been mortal still, he likely would have blushed in confusion, but instead he settled for clearing his throat and adjusting his armor.
As she continued, he learned her name. "Kit...I'm Soul. And Catfa--I mean, Master, is called Karthus." He let a small smirk escape. I should hang onto catface just in case. "And...you're not quite as dead as you think." He paused for a bit, just letting it sink in that she was undead.
When she mentioned Gus, Soul glanced at the dead dog. "...is he Gus?" He knelt down to look at the dog a bit closer. "You certainly stuck close to him...and he to you. Karthus, if I may?" He glanced up at Karthus. "I think that...um, Gus was it? May help Kit adjust." He stood up again and bowed slightly. "Just a...favor, master, if that's acceptable."
All are equal in death; it's just that some people are more equal than others.
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 11, 2013 5:50:05 GMT -5
Karthus chuckled briefly at the girl's misjudgement, however apt it may be... "No, not Death himself...Simply a close associate. I go by the name of Karthus, as Soul has introduced me." He replied lightly. He would have smiled if he still had lips...The best he could muster was his ever-present, skeletal leer. "Well-met, Kit Dawnstar." The skeletal being shook her hand briefly, the rough bones of his right hand meeting her cold, deadened flesh. She seemed to have potential within her....Few had the ability to hold onto their life, even with a gentle nudge from Karthus' own magics, for this long.
Her story only further re-enforced Karthus' thoughts that Kit was chosen by Death. Even in their last hours, most mortals would find a Cathedral of Unlife utterly repulsive to them... The Lich uttered a brief chuckle. She would serve Death well. But, for now, she had yet to even sign the contract. After hearing both her own and Soul's last words, the Undying Lich paused a moment, then spoke carefully, his words seeming to carry a power all their own.
"I see....Kit Dawnstar, I have a proposition for you. I know more than most that few souls would willingly slip beyond Death's Door...So, therefore, I offer you a second chance at life. Time to take revenge on those who wronged you....Time to make amends with those you have wronged....Finish what has been left unfinished... The Lich made a step closer to her. "However, this is not without cost. You will serve as a champion of death eternally, and once your business is complete....You will live on to serve Death's cause. If you do not accept these terms, then you will pass beyond Death's Door as all mortals, never to return...." The deathsinger sighed, almost seeming to roll his eyes. "And yes, although it is far beyond my normal domain.....I will also raise your animal companion."
After another minute's pause to let his deal sink in, Karthus resumed speaking. "Do you accept these terms?"
Kit's decision, for better or for worse, would shape her fate forevermore.
Kit's eyes went wide in horror as the one called Soul explained it to her. The Deathsinger’s words confirmed that he was correct but there was no time to dwell on such things. With every passing minute the world seemed to fade further and further away. Reality, if that is really what this was, slipped through her fingers as if it were so much water cupped in the palm of her hand.
I ain’t done yet she thought, raging against the current like a fish struggles to swim upstream. The huntress didn't know what would happen if she let go, but her instinct to survive refused to allow it.
Then he spoke.
I have a proposition for you.
The force of his words was like a rock, anchoring her to the moment. In relief, Kit clung to every last thing he had to say, feeling like it was safe, that she had the time to consider each point in turn.
Vengeance? She didn't want it as much as she wanted justice. It weren’t right what Big D did. It weren’t right for him to get away with it neither. If he did, sure as the sun rose and set he'd do it again to someone else.
Make amends for her mistakes? Yeah, now that there's something I can sink my teeth into. If she had run away, if she had made for the city, then the pack would still be alive and none of this would have happened. But she didn’t. Oh how she wanted to make it all not true, wanted to go back and do the right thing instead of leading the pack to their deaths.
When Karthus was finished, Kit took a moment to decide. A Dawnstar didn't break their word for nothin. If she was gonna give her word to Death or the Deathsinger, Kit knew she damn well better be sure.
She hugged little Gus to her chest tightly, his cold body an ironic comfort against the guilt as she spoke. “Well, if ya think Death’d be alright with me stickin round for a bit, I aint never minded takin care of whatever needs doin, fer as long as it needs ta be done.”
With a gulp to down the fear of the unknown rising in the back of her throat, Kit gave the Deathsinger her answer. “Fer a chance to make things right…” The huntress gave Gus a kiss on the top of his matted ear and then tucked the pup into the crook of her elbow. When she looked up again, she stared Karthus in the eye, hands clenched in resolute, iron clad surety of her answer.
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 14, 2013 1:04:45 GMT -5
Karthus remained expressionless, but somehow both Kit and Soul could tell that he was smiling. Of course, the ever-present skeletal leer did not aid in making this any less creepy. "Very well." The Lich's golden eyes clouded into burning shadowy orbs as Kit suddenly found herself falling backward into blackness, her soul finally leaving her body at peace.
Karthus caught Kit's body as his spell hastened her departure. There was much that had yet to be done. "There are more souls linked to her own. She brought her pack with her into the swamps...Hunting dogs. They will sere her well when she returns from Death's Realm." Karthus carried Kit into the cathedral and laid her on her back, her visage almost peaceful in death. "Soul, fetch me my reagents. They should be in the cellar. We have a long night ahead of us... Ensure that we are not disturbed."
Soul watched as Karthus and Kit discussed the terms. There was nothing he could say, really. But as Karthus commanded him to get his reagents, he gave a small nod. "Sure thing." He began to go to the cellar door, taking one final glance at the still body of Kit and Karthus before going down the stairs.
When he was done finding all the reagents, he came back up the staircase, holding them oddly steady (for him at least). "Here you are, master. I made sure to bring up everything for resurrection." He carefully laid the boxes, jars, and scrolls besides the pair. "If you need me, I'll be standing guard." He took his weapons out, sword in one hand and knife in the other, and moved to the gateway to the Cathedral, looking far more terrifying than he actually was.
All are equal in death; it's just that some people are more equal than others.
{For readers sake, the introspective afterlife sequence can be viewed here.} Kit did not wake up as much as she grew conscious of her surroundings.
Everything was unnaturally silent, cloaked in luminescent shades of blue and grey. A world covered in fog. She couldn't feel even a breath of wind and yet the mist stirred restlessly around her. Where’n creation am I?
Kit spun around in a slow circle. This endless place of cold and fog seemed to extend for as far as the eye could see, as if it had no end, no beginning and offered no hope. Should she walk? Should she stay put? There were no landmarks to gauge her location by, no sun, no stars. It was as if they, along with everything else had suddenly ceased to exist. Everything was gone. That is, everything except for the mist. The stuff seemed to breathe and move as if it had a life of all its own.
This wasn't right, where was Gus? They were supposed to be brought back not stuck in limbo, or maybe death just didn't want them championing his cause after all.
Hesitantly Kit reached out and brushed a fingertip sized line through the haze. In the blink of an eye, her vision became enveloped by a memory. In her mind’s eye she was still a small child, a vision from what felt like a lifetime ago. So long ago in fact that she had forgotten it had ever happened to begin with.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The embers of the fire glow bright, it is long past bedtime for the child sized Kit but she sits at her father’s feet, begging for one last story. “Have I ever told you the story of the hunt?” Father asks her.
Little Kit giggles. “Daddy we hunt all da time.”
“No little one, not that kind of hunt. This hunt is why we thank death for our kills; it is why we show mercy to sickly pups and lame horses by releasing them into the afterlife. It is why, when death is close, we wait and embrace him as a friend.”
The fire pops and crackles' as her father continues. “They say that a place exists between life and death for those who run. There, they are hunted like beasts and sent to pay death his due.”
The tiny girl gasps but father reassures her. “There is a way to escape the wild hunt they say. If you can run till dawn you live to fight another day. But you and I have nothing to worry about little dove. We do not run from death, not for fear of the wild hunt being called down upon us. We do not run because we are hunters and no self respecting hunter would run away like prey.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The image of father and daughter faded away, leaving only the ever present fog. Kit had no idea why the memory had sprung to mind but it did not bode well.
Perhaps, Death and Karthus were not on the same page. Maybe Death thought she was running away. It would explain why she was here. But if that were true, shouldn’t someone be chasing her by now?
A child’s voice, her voice began to echo through the mist. The sing song tone eerily coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.
“Tick tock goes the clock.
Hands move round the dial.
The huntsman's call will pull you in
To run an endless mile”
A shiver ran up her spine at the childhood nursery rhyme, it was the last straw. I aint runnin from shit! Her fear quickly gave way to rage at the whole damn situation. “Alright that’s just about enough bluster outta you!” She told the mist, gesturing angrily at it as though it had better behave or else. “Now cut the crap! If yer gonna come out and get me then get er done! …And you best gimme back my dog while yer at it!”
Flinging her arms through the wisps of fog, she began to move forward. Alternating between shouting at the fog to come and get it and whistling for the pup. “GUS!” She yelled, pausing to listen for anything that may be coming. “…GUSSY GUS!” Was that a yip? The sound came once more; it was most defiantly a yip. There was hope!
Kit couldn't see a thing so she called out again, louder, trusting the hound in him to find her. “GUS! Comere ya rascal!” A wisp of fog began to condense at her feet, curling into itself until it looked exactly as the pup would have looked were he made transparent. Kit’s brow furrowed as she eyeballed the specter. Just another damn trick. Shoulda expected it. She thought as her heart sank.
Falling to her knees in defeat she turned away from the psudo pup, but just like the real Gus, the little guy wouldn't leave her alone. He bounced around her playfully, barking and yipping, wagging his tail like he used to when they were all alone in the swamp and she needed a pick me up.
“Cut it out, ya ain’t real.” She growled, batting a hand at the foggy being. Kit expected her fingers to go right through it but to her surprise, they connected solidly. It yelped and hopped away, tail tucked between his legs, shaking just like a real pup might.
Kit looked down at her hand in shock, then back to the spectral pup. “Gussy?” The pup whimpered in response and instantly she felt like the guiltiest criminal who ever lived. She’d never hit a critter in anger in her whole life. “Aw crap Gus, I didn’t mean it. You ok?” She bit her lip and offered her palm, holding it out to the frightened little one. After a moment he crept back over.
Now, time was a relative thing in a place like this but after what felt like an hour or so, ghostly Gus was right as rain and Kit had herself a theory about the situation they were in. Maybe pops had been right about being the hunters and not the hunted. It would explain why she wasn't getting chased around but if that was true, then they needed to find a way out and quick.
If the legend of the wild hunt was more than a child’s story and she really was the hunter and not the prey, then who knew what would happen if she and Gus were still trapped inside come dawn.
Now Gus hadn't been trained up proper but his nose was all she had. “Alright little guy, we gotta find home.” She told him, holding him up to the level of her eyes like he was a week old again. “Now I know you got it in ya. Yer ma was one of the best.” She told him as he went to licking her eyelids. With a chuckle Kit set him down by her feet and in a commanding tone told him, “Seek!”
The spectral pup didn't move an inch. He just looked up at her, tail wagging back and forth like this was a new game. “Right then, well it was worth a shot.” Kit told him with a sigh. They didn't have time to train him proper. If her theory was right then it was still night time but the lighter it got the worse off it’d be for them both.
Suddenly, an idea hit her. “Hey Gussy!” The pup looked up again, his whole butt wiggling in excitement at her tone of voice. “Where’s mama? Find mama Gussy!” It was a game they used to play with the pups when they started getting big enough to explore and Gus had been no exception.
The pup gave a yip and then went bounding off into the mist. Kit chased after him, struggling to make out his form midst the fog. “Gus?” She came to a halt and listened. The answering yip was far, but unlike every other damn sound in this place, she knew deep down in her gut which direction it came from. “Good boy Gussy!” She hollered back to him as she started running again. “Good boy! That’s it, go find mama.”
~~~~~~~~ Soon, to Kits surprise the pup’s excited yips were returned by a deeper adult bark. Yip, bark, yip, bark. The deep answering bark came closer and closer till another form seemed to draw itself out of the mist. “Kari?” She skidded to a halt at the sight of the full grown hound. As a ghost of her former self, Kari looked quite a bit bigger, if such a thing were possible. Moreover she looked relieved as she sniffed her pup and then came to rest at her pack leaders side.
“Well I’ll be…“ Kit whispered in awe as she pulled her fingers through Kari’s translucent white fur. Now we’re getting somewhere. “Alright darlin, I reckon we’ve all had about enough of this place. How bout we get on outta here?” Kari barked in response, her muscles tensing in readiness.
Kit didn’t know if it would work, ‘a way out’ was not exactly like hunting game but it was all they had and so she was more than happy to oblige the waiting dog with the usual command. “Seek!” Kari barked once and then dashed off, Gus at her heels.
Her heart soaring, Kit threw caution to the wind and ran headlong after them. She didn't have to know where they were going. The hunt for a way out was a hunt no different than any other, the dogs knew best and it was her job to trust em and keep up.
Fire burned in her veins, the old thrill. Kit ran faster and faster as the sky grew lighter, a horizon was becoming clear, like a real sunrise. The mist blew around her but in the distance; she could just make out shapes that reminded her of being in the marsh. Kari was right on point, they were getting close now.
Kit’s pace slowed down just a bit so she could study her surroundings and then something curious reached her ears. She could hear several yips and barks, all of them at once. “KARI COME!” She yelled, slowing down to a jog.
One by one they appeared. First Kari and following after, each of her pups. They’d grown up some from the look of em. It seemed dominance in the pack dictated size in this place because each pup seemed to have grown both in size and age according to their former rank. It would seem strange but no stranger than anything else that had happened.
Kit came to a full stop and excitedly knelt down to greet them. They were back! All of em!
It seemed that Karthus had made good on his promise to give her a chance to right the wrongs she’d done. At least he had when it came to Kari and her pups anyway. Laughing and hugging them all again, her heart was as light as the sky.
The sky!
~~~~~~~~ Kit immediately cursed under her breath and leapt to her feet, scanning the foggy surroundings. Now was not the time to panic but it was nearly dawn, they had to move now.
“HUP” She yelled to the pack, the sound jarring them all into following as she made a mad dash for the ghost of the temple which lay far off in the distance.
There was no time! They weren't going to make it before sun up!
Kit paused and grabbed up Gus, leaving the dogs who could keep up to run along with her. “HUP HUP” She pushed them to run faster and faster still until the terrain became nothing more than a blur.
The temple grounds were nearly solid as they made it to the stairs. Kit bolted up and paused at the entrance to push the littlest ones inside. “Kari, kennel in... NOW!”
The dog balked but then jumped right at her, the rest of the pack following just behind. Kit curled away and braced herself for the impact but just as the giant hound would have connected, the sun in all its horrible glory lit up the stones on the floor.
Dawn had come and just like that, Kit’s world dissolved in a brilliant flash of white.
It was indeed dawn outside when Kit’s eyes flew open, heart racing in a state of panic as she bolted upright. “Where are they!?!” She demanded of no one in particular as her eyes darted around the room.
Not finding who she expected to find, her eyes then fixed on the Deathsinger. “Mr. Karthus.” Kit got to her feet, fists clenched as though she was about to do battle, though her aggression did not seem directed at him. “Mr. Karthus you gotta send me back to wherever I just was.”
The huntress was pale, but thought she felt none the worse for wear as she spun around again to look for the missing hounds and stumbled over her own two feet. Throwing her arms out for balance she held still till she was sure she wouldn't fall flat on her face.
“That ain’t right… can’t feel my feet.” She mumbled, taking a moment to glare angrily down at the appendages. When she really focused on it, she couldn't feel much of anything actually. Not the pain from twisting herself up like that or even the swift pounding of her heart, which should have come with the rush of panic she was experiencing.
“But that ain’t the point... Please Boss; tell me they ain’t gone fer good.” Kit looked up to the lich, her blood shot eyes pleading with him to make it alright.
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 15, 2013 0:27:38 GMT -5
All through the night, Karthus worked his fell magics upon Kit's deceased body. The magic circle, drawn in chalk made from the bones of the living, resonated with arcane power as seven black candles placed along the circle's edge produced an unholy reddish glow within the Cathedral. Karthus tossed into the circle a pinch of salt mingled with the ashes of a blooming daylilly before uttering a brief arcane phrase and returning to the crate of reagents. Several hours passed like this, the Deathsinger tossing various reagents within the circle, reading from specifically enchanted scrolls which fed their magic into the ritual, and chanting words of an ancient tongue as he channeled in his own personal power. Finally, there was but one last component remaining: Karthus held out a small pebble, a disk of black onyx roughly an inch in diameter and inscribed with the Rune of Death, the Eihwaz. The runestone levitated out of Karthus' palm and hovered over Kit's corpse, the air vibrating with magic as Karthus uttered the four remaining phrases of the incantation.
In a flash of dark energy, the runestone shattered as the spell was completed and necrotic power rushed into Kit's deceased form, binding to her flesh and preparing a place for her soul. Moments later she sat straight up, demanding that she be returned to wherever she previously was, and asking desperately if 'they' had been taken from her. "Do not strain yourself. You have but just returned from the realm beyond Death's Door....Although your body is now much more durable than it once was, you still have your limits. As far as 'They' go, and I can only presume you mean your....Pets....You brought them with you into Death's Realm, and they followed shortly behind when you returned."
With this, Kit's spectral hounds coalesced from the residual mist of the ritual, sitting just outside of the ring of candles which formed what was left of the magic circle. They seemed pleased to see their master, but hesitant to cross the bone-chalk ring. "They will serve you well, Huntress....But, for now, you have much to learn, and very little time in which you must learn it. There is always the chance that such powerful magics may attract the attention of outsiders... But I can only assume you have questions of your own." Karthus stated.
Soul watched Karthus patiently over his shoulder while he did his work, not moving from his position in the doorway. Most of his attention was on the marsh; he knew that it was unlikely someone would find them, but that didn't mean he was any less wary. He could only assume how difficult the ceremony was.
However, when he heard Karthus shout 'Eihwaz' and the shatter of the stone, he turned around, sheathing his dagger but keeping Levathian's blade out. Soon, he saw Kit sit up quickly, followed by some words between the two. He was going to stay in his spot when he saw all of a sudden a pack of spectral hounds surround Kit. His flames brightened slightly as if they were remembering something, and forgetting all doubts, he turned around and sheathed his sword calmly, walking towards the pack.
He stood not far behind Karthus, smiling slightly as he looked around at Kit and the pack. He thought for a moment, trying to find something to say that sounded more respectful. "Uh...so the ceremony was...um...successful? Yea, that's the word." He sat on the ground, crossing his legs and watching. "Glad it worked. I know that with you, it always does, sir, but that doesn't stop a guy from worrying."
All are equal in death; it's just that some people are more equal than others.
Safe. Every last one of them made it back safe and sound.
Relief washed over her and with it, a wave of vertigo. The boss wasn't kidding when he said she was not quite right just yet. Taking slow careful steps she exited the circle and crouched down. The pack immediately moved to her side, each hound jumping and eager for attention. “They aren't just pets Boss, their family. More’n that though, they are as good as any weapon in a fight an they can track like no human ever could. They’ll do ya proud you mark my words.”
Kit tried to ruffle Kari’s fur but her hand passed right through like the dog wasn't even there at all. This caused some confusion for both dog and master. “Guess it doesn't work the same way here does it?" Kari answered with a hollow echoing bark. The hounds would still do Karthus proud, just maybe not with fang and claw.
Kit could see Soul standing just behind the dogs; his fiery form seemed to brighten with a glimmer of hope. Now she couldn't put her finger on why but it seemed a lonely place to be way over there. “Wanna come say hello?” She asked him “It’s alright if ya do, they won’t hurt ya none, not even if they could.” She offered him a lopsided reassuring smile before turning back to Karthus.
A serious note darkened her expression as she spoke. “If you’ll pardon my sayin so, there's no time like the present for learning boss, 'specially if we may have some friends comin by to say hello.” Slowly, she curled up till she could stand tall without wavering. The dogs fell silent, ears perked; listening even though they couldn't understand the words. Now of course the huntress had a million questions floating around in her head, but after her display earlier, less was more.
“As for questions, I only got one that matters.” Red eyes flicked upward and a dark grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.
The Harvester made his way through the thick marsh outside of Demacia, the screaming of a dying soul had caught his attention and he was there to collect. He knew that the marsh was hostile territory, but he didn't fear the Deathsinger. They both worked for death, one way or another.
As the sounds of the dying soul got louder, Alasdair increased his pace, flying through the trees, up and below branches until he heard voices. That's odd, he couldn't feel the presence of more living around. The soul's screaming faded just as Alasdair got close enough. But there was still time, he could still convince the mortal to join the Ruined King instead of the Deathsinger.
Alasdair noticed three people, or beings rather. The Deathsinger, some poor being with a sword and the being he was after. As she stood up Alasdair stopped at the tree line. His glowing trim on his armor would have given away his position if they were looking at him. Luckily for him they weren't.
Appearing like a fog, the Harvester left the safety of the tree line and approached the group. "Hello, Deathsinger. It's been a while, has it not? We see you are the one who took the soul from us." With that said he moved closer to the group and entered a shadow. His glowing trim gave away his position right before it disappeared.
"And here we have Soul, one of your youngest minions." The Harvester appeared in a shadow behind Soul and circled around him once before moving into the shadow and disappearing again.
This time he reappeared closer to Kit, "And here we have you." He circled around her and stopped in front of her. "We wish to make a deal with you, one that the Deathsinger would only dream of being able to do."
"The Ruined King can give you the powers of a god." His six eyes blinked once before looking up at the Deathsinger. "Unlike Death's guard dog."
Last Edit: Dec 15, 2013 17:34:07 GMT -5 by Alasdair
Soul nodded when Kit offered to let him near. "Sure! I think I liked dogs...yes, I did!" He smiled slightly and walked forwards, squatting besides the dogs and offering his hand to them. "Well aren't you all great! Heh!"
However, when Alasdair appeared, his guise became one less pleasant. He stood up as quickly as he could without falling, his hand instantly springing to the hilt of his sword. However, in his haste, he had difficulty un sheathing it, instead grumbling and taking out his dagger.
Directing his sidearm at the intruder, Soul tried to swallow his fear. "Hey! You're not welcome here, so get on out!" He motioned to the door with his dagger. "And just because I'm a young one doesn't mean you get to...uh, what's the word..." He paused before looking up again. "Oh yea! Ridicule me!"
He heard Alasdair make an offer to Kit; to make her a godlike being under The Ruined King. He turned his head to her, a worried expression visible even in the fire. "Kit, don't do it. I've seen what he does to souls; it's not pretty. To him, you'd just be some cast-aside reagent for a spell." He turned back to Alasdair. "A soul shouldn't be thrown around like a bargaining chip!"
All are equal in death; it's just that some people are more equal than others.
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