The door to the tiny inn
room banged open as Kerryann strode in, a sour look on her face. With
one of her plate armored boots she kicked it closed behind her, sealing
off the rest of the Pig and Whistle and leaving her in a relatively
calm, quiet place. Looking about her room, the death knight noted that
nothing was out of place and nodded to herself in satisfaction; no one
had attempted to go through her scant possessions while she was gone.
The room had little in it; a bed, a vanity with a chair, a dresser for her clothes and just enough space to stand in. It wasn't meant for visitors, and she paid enough coin to ensure that there were none even if there were any who would want to visit her. Other than the furnishings, the room contained little else; there was little to show the personality of the person living there. It was just as Kerryann preferred; there was nothing left of the person who occupied the room anymore.
Or was there?
The woman scowled, reaching back to unstrap her runeblade. She set it beside the bed, not bothering to store it somewhere out of reach; if someone wanted to come into the room and attempt to snatch it up in an effort to assault her it would be their own fault when the blade burned them to death with its magic. As her hand left the blade, Kerryann sighed, feeling a weight lift from her. Holding the cursed steel or having it close to her body was a never-ending agony, one of the many prices she paid for the power she wielded. Still, it was good to set it down now and then, it allowed her time to think.
The scowl on her face deepened as she began to unstrap pieces of her plate armor, letting them fall to the floor with thunderous crashes. Her conversation with the elf that called herself Florinai had been more disturbing than she'd thought. Each piece of armor joined the pile as she thought about it, the straps coming undone almost by themselves as her hands removed them by memory, her gaze distant. When the last piece had joined the pile of steel, she stripped off the padding beneath it, allowing herself to walk free in her undergarments for a time.
Disarmed and armored, the woman appeared more natural, her body not vastly different than it had been before she became what she was. She walked over to the vanity, slipping down into the small seat there and reaching to a box resting on the vanity's shelf. She took out one of the gnomish lighters she usually kept around and lit a cigarette, letting the smoke pour out of her mouth as she stared at herself in the mirror.
Cold blue eyes met her gaze, staring back. The eyes of the dead, of a ghoulish creature. She grinned, watching the creature that she'd become grin back at her. "The elf didn't know what she was talking about, did she? Are you really a person, alive? I don't think so. That was something you gave up to gain so much more."
The reflection said nothing back to her, as expected. She blew more smoke towards it, frowning, "Even so, you messed up today Ker. You don't let them see, don't let them know things about you. Especially not one of the people you're seeking, not someone who is part of your work. That was sloppy my dear. Very sloppy. She learned your name without a word. She guessed it from the inscription. You should have killed her."
The blue orbs stared back at her, offering no answer to the question that stirred in her mind. She spoke it aloud, "So why didn't you?"
Why hadn't she tried to kill Florinai? It wasn't like she hadn't killed other elves before. It wasn't like she even really needed the elf around, and she was far too perceptive. And annoying. That was the real issue wasn't it? Florinai had figured things out too quickly, had asked irritating questions. Had suggested that she was more than simply the walking dead.
And yet, she didn't. And now she was talking to herself in the mirror. Ever since she'd found that grave marker things had seemed to be going downhill.
A loud rapping on the door interrupted Kerryann's train of thought and made her jump. A voice shouted through the thick wood panel, "Hey! Are you smoking in there again? I told you, I didn't rent you that room so you could ruin the place! Put it out or get the fel out! I'm not going to tell you again!"
The death knight rolled her eyes, pressing the lit end of her cigarette into the wood of the vanity to put it out. With a sigh she rose from her chair, leaving the image and its unanswerable questions behind. She walked over to the bed, lying down in it and staring at the ceiling. As she'd told Florinai, she didn't sleep anymore; she hadn't slept for years now. It was something she gave up a long time ago. Another price she paid for power, for her ambition.
As she lay there, looking up at nothing, her hands went to her neck, taking a small locket up and into her field of view. She opened it, looking at the image inside; a man and a woman and a young girl. The image had been placed there with magic, formed from a spell when she was much younger and given to her as a gift, a little piece of her past stored around her neck.
"Maybe the elf was right. Sometimes forgetting is not such a good idea. There are always lessons to learn from the dead. Even if they don't want to teach them or care anymore."
She stared at the little girl in the image for a time before gently closing the locket and letting it drop. She lay there for a time, saying nothing and simply letting the necromantic energies that sustained her regenerate her and flow through her body. It was unusual for her to encounter anyone who could tolerate her presence even for a short period of time, much less to have someone asking her such odd questions and putting strange thoughts in her mind.
The elf Florinai would require some watching it seemed. The entire bunch of them. Whatever had attracted the Twilight's Hammer to them had to be important. Powerful.
Power that she could use in the future to further her own goals.
The room had little in it; a bed, a vanity with a chair, a dresser for her clothes and just enough space to stand in. It wasn't meant for visitors, and she paid enough coin to ensure that there were none even if there were any who would want to visit her. Other than the furnishings, the room contained little else; there was little to show the personality of the person living there. It was just as Kerryann preferred; there was nothing left of the person who occupied the room anymore.
Or was there?
The woman scowled, reaching back to unstrap her runeblade. She set it beside the bed, not bothering to store it somewhere out of reach; if someone wanted to come into the room and attempt to snatch it up in an effort to assault her it would be their own fault when the blade burned them to death with its magic. As her hand left the blade, Kerryann sighed, feeling a weight lift from her. Holding the cursed steel or having it close to her body was a never-ending agony, one of the many prices she paid for the power she wielded. Still, it was good to set it down now and then, it allowed her time to think.
The scowl on her face deepened as she began to unstrap pieces of her plate armor, letting them fall to the floor with thunderous crashes. Her conversation with the elf that called herself Florinai had been more disturbing than she'd thought. Each piece of armor joined the pile as she thought about it, the straps coming undone almost by themselves as her hands removed them by memory, her gaze distant. When the last piece had joined the pile of steel, she stripped off the padding beneath it, allowing herself to walk free in her undergarments for a time.
Disarmed and armored, the woman appeared more natural, her body not vastly different than it had been before she became what she was. She walked over to the vanity, slipping down into the small seat there and reaching to a box resting on the vanity's shelf. She took out one of the gnomish lighters she usually kept around and lit a cigarette, letting the smoke pour out of her mouth as she stared at herself in the mirror.
Cold blue eyes met her gaze, staring back. The eyes of the dead, of a ghoulish creature. She grinned, watching the creature that she'd become grin back at her. "The elf didn't know what she was talking about, did she? Are you really a person, alive? I don't think so. That was something you gave up to gain so much more."
The reflection said nothing back to her, as expected. She blew more smoke towards it, frowning, "Even so, you messed up today Ker. You don't let them see, don't let them know things about you. Especially not one of the people you're seeking, not someone who is part of your work. That was sloppy my dear. Very sloppy. She learned your name without a word. She guessed it from the inscription. You should have killed her."
The blue orbs stared back at her, offering no answer to the question that stirred in her mind. She spoke it aloud, "So why didn't you?"
Why hadn't she tried to kill Florinai? It wasn't like she hadn't killed other elves before. It wasn't like she even really needed the elf around, and she was far too perceptive. And annoying. That was the real issue wasn't it? Florinai had figured things out too quickly, had asked irritating questions. Had suggested that she was more than simply the walking dead.
And yet, she didn't. And now she was talking to herself in the mirror. Ever since she'd found that grave marker things had seemed to be going downhill.
A loud rapping on the door interrupted Kerryann's train of thought and made her jump. A voice shouted through the thick wood panel, "Hey! Are you smoking in there again? I told you, I didn't rent you that room so you could ruin the place! Put it out or get the fel out! I'm not going to tell you again!"
The death knight rolled her eyes, pressing the lit end of her cigarette into the wood of the vanity to put it out. With a sigh she rose from her chair, leaving the image and its unanswerable questions behind. She walked over to the bed, lying down in it and staring at the ceiling. As she'd told Florinai, she didn't sleep anymore; she hadn't slept for years now. It was something she gave up a long time ago. Another price she paid for power, for her ambition.
As she lay there, looking up at nothing, her hands went to her neck, taking a small locket up and into her field of view. She opened it, looking at the image inside; a man and a woman and a young girl. The image had been placed there with magic, formed from a spell when she was much younger and given to her as a gift, a little piece of her past stored around her neck.
"Maybe the elf was right. Sometimes forgetting is not such a good idea. There are always lessons to learn from the dead. Even if they don't want to teach them or care anymore."
She stared at the little girl in the image for a time before gently closing the locket and letting it drop. She lay there for a time, saying nothing and simply letting the necromantic energies that sustained her regenerate her and flow through her body. It was unusual for her to encounter anyone who could tolerate her presence even for a short period of time, much less to have someone asking her such odd questions and putting strange thoughts in her mind.
The elf Florinai would require some watching it seemed. The entire bunch of them. Whatever had attracted the Twilight's Hammer to them had to be important. Powerful.
Power that she could use in the future to further her own goals.
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