The Forshadow

Elisabeth Carson sat on the floor of the small holding cell, her back against the bars of the door. Her auburn hair was in disarray, her mascara was smeared down her cheeks and little remained of the lipstick she had once applied, though you could see it was a peachy shade. Normally she would have quite a full, friendly face with gentle features, but right now it looked like all wrinkles and bags. Elisabeth had physically aged in a dramatic fashion.

She finally moved after two hours of absolute stillness, because she suddenly had the feeling of being watched. When she slowly and deliberately tilted up her head, her eyes locked with the grim spectre she had been cursing at until she had broken. He had suddenly appeared on the bench in the cell and was looking at her with glowing red eyes that reflected a deep sadness. She looked back down again, not feeling like acknowledging this thing. Besides, she could see his deep black clothing even if she closed her eyes, down to the cursed cape the thing wore.

A whisper emanated from the spectre, then another and another, until the flurry of whispers turned into words:
"I regret this deeply, you must know this. Your logic was sound and clear, however your emotions got the better of you. I hoped when you put out the message to meet me, my sources would be wrong as to how you would react. So I set up the meeting in a place where you could control the situation, agent Carson. Yet your reaction warranted the last 48 hours, however much I regret it".

48 hours earlier

Agent Carson turned on her audio equipment and instantly was flooded by the chatter. The snipers and field agents had been up here for hours, securing the location from every possible vantage point. She knew they were getting impatient, but nothing could be left to chance. As soon as she had done that, agent Edwards and Delaney did the same. She'd brought them for their muscle and imposing figure, but they did listen to orders well. She spoke into the microphone on her shirt collar:
"Okay boys, we're at T minus 4, so break it up. Still nothing?"
The snipers all confirmed the roof was still clear and the feel against reported all the exits and entries around the building were still secure. If he was going to show up, he was truly a miracle worker. But that was the working theory anyway.

She waited three more minutes and then opened the little roof access door.
"I see you, agent Carson. Keeping you in my sights. Still no movement, but if he somehow shows up, we've got him covered".
Elisabeth and her two cohorts walked to the middle of the roof, which was pretty much clear and flat, except for two air vents a few meters apart. The last minute passed in complete silence, except for the soft breeze picking up now and again. Then, as she was looking at her watch and saw the dial jump to noon, the chatter came through:
 "We've got movement between the vents. Yes, it looks like it's him. The Cloaked Raven is on the building! How'd he get there? Is everyone still up?"

The voices in Elisabeth ears launched into a debate who was to blame, but she just looked at the cloaked figure that approached. The whispers started to come in over her audio equipment, forming sentences slowly and deliberately:
"You said you'd come alone, but then again I didn't expect you to. Now, I have simple proof of my innocence. I did not kill ambassador Ying". Elisabeth just nodded as the whispers stopped.
"Sure, and I'd love to hear it. Just come down with us and we'll talk about it at the bureau".
"That was not part of the arrangement, agent Carson. I could come here to tell my side and you would listen"
"Listen, you're an admitted murderer. Did you really think we'd have a pleasant conversation on a rooftop? I'm taking you in. You'll have your chance to tell your story, just not as a free man"
"I'm warning you, agent Carson. Do not break your word to me any further or the next 48 hours will be worse then anything you ever experienced"
"Threatening a federal agent is not the wisest of strategies"
"Neither is breaking your word to the worlds greatest assassin"

A few seconds passed in quiet. Just now Elisabeth noticed that the constant noise of her backup had stopped coming into her ear, replaced instead with complete silence. She quickly drew her gun from its holster, to which the other agents quickly followed suit. She pointed it at the Cloaked Raven and yelled:
"What'cha do, you scumbag?"
"Will you break your word?"
"Tell me what you did or I'll shoot you"
"Very well. I'll see you in precisely 48 hours".

Suddenly the figure became whir of cloak and movement. All three agents fired their weapons, but somehow their shots rebounded. A white streak of light flew forth from the dark creature, hitting agent Delaney. Elisabeth had no time to look around, but she heard a grunt and then something heavy fall over. Edwards stopped firing as well. Whatever happened to Delaney also happened to Edwards, as another white streak flew forth. Then Elisabeth ran out of shells. She knew replacing them would be useless and sure enough, a white line hit her. It flew right into her skin with a little sting, after which a white web appeared on her skin. Shortly after she lost conciousness.

Now

Finally Elisabeth looked up at the creature, after it had recounted all that had happened. Her voice was broken, yet clear:
"You think you're right to do all that? In the hours after we met, people suddenly found connections to the mob, my house was foreclosed, my car was impounded, my kids put in foster-care... All this because you had some lame excuse to how you hadn't killed Ying? You had written your name in his blood on the scene of the crime and yet you wanted to play this game with me, because I lied? You surely are the most horrid creature on the world". The Cloaked Raven looked away and then at her once again and spoke:
"You know who I am. I'm the Cloaked Raven and I'm the worlds greatest assassin. You know and admit that I am this". Elisabeth didn't dignify this with an answer. So the Raven continued:
"And why am I the greatest assassin in the world? Who have I killed? Besides ambassador Ying, name one victim".

Elisabeth didn't want to humour this creature, but against her own will she started to think of the rumours about the Cloaked Raven. How he was the greatest assassin, that he did the job good, fast and effectively. She knew a lot about him, but she couldn't name a single victim. That's why he was the greatest assassin. He didn't leave a single trace. And then it dawned on her... it'd been a frame job. It was as clear as day. He could've framed himself, but then his reputation would be a lot less impressive. She shook her thoughts away and looked towards the assassin, but he was gone. How he'd disappeared, she didn't know.

Suddenly the door behind her opened. It was Chief Withaker, the man who'd put her here after the string of mysterious mob connects and shady payments had shown up. He looked completely dreadful and full of guild. When he spoke, her voice was even more broken than Elisabeth's had been.
"We've cleared your name. About a half hour ago one of the techs found evidence that the facts had been fabricated. We're just done double checking it. I'm so sorry, Elisabeth..."
"You were just doing your job, John. And so was I. It wasn't you who put me in here, it was him"
"The Cloaked Raven? He fabricated all this? You have any proof?"
"I have a confession and that's all I need for now. I'll hunt him down like the dog he is"
"Well, we'll add it to the count of murder once we catch him"

She'd explain to him later that the Raven was innocent of that particular charge. Right now Elisabeth just rose and walked out of her cell with powerful angry strides. The Raven was still an outlaw vigilante who'd need to be put down, especially after what he did to her. She would make sure he would pay!

Earl of Kentonshire (1)

This story is old. I was trying to improve writing, but I noticed that if I wrote something I liked, I got so caught up in it I lost track of the story myself. So I decided to write something that wasn't a page turner for me personally. It's a horrid romance novel. I haven't gotten much further than this, and I probably never will, but the blog needs some padding.

The rain descended over the lands of Kentonshire, coating the traitorous roads through the marshes with another layer of slick mud. The drenched mare beneath her strained its muscles to try to maintain a grip, all the while following the black stallion on the road before it. Mary brushed some wet blonde locks from her face, causing even more drops to run down her corset. It really didn’t matter to her, she was cold and drenched to the bone already, so a few more drops wouldn’t matter. It might even ease the strain from the corset that was on far too tight.

Hugh had insisted on her wearing this corset, and she knew exactly why, but she was in no position to oppose him or any plans he made. Since he was named the earl of Wendington, he had become insufferably arrogant and power hungry, even when they had been much closer in the past. Now her brother wanted to expand his power, and his friend Richard was perfect for that. Mary had never liked the plan and Hugh had taken note of this, and now he could catch two birds with one stone. She could hardly breathe, which was keeping her calm and meek, and it made her bosom look much more ample.

The girl would not have been surprised if she had been presented to Richard in just a corset, but luckily her brother had understood at least some comfort was required with women. Even though the third horse behind them was loaded with frivolous dresses she would’ve never picked out herself, she was allowed to wear leather pants, chaps and boots to make the trip at least somewhat comfortable. The cloak she wore offered some protection to dreaded weather,  but the light fabric was meant more for style then comfort.

Her bare chest was cold and numb, as were her hands and face, since they were exposed to the cold drops, but since the rain had started when they were only an hour away from Kenton, her brother had seen no need to change. Sadly the weather had changed the visibility of the road, and they had turned back several times from a seemingly good path that ended in a lake or bog. For three hours she had to endure the rain, but she did so with pride, even if it was just because she had little else she could do.

When they crossed the next knoll Hugh let out a small cry of joy, which was just enough when it reached Mary to get her out of her contemplations. The town of Kenton and its small keep lay in a valley, much deeper than the marches, but a clever drainage system of moats kept it dry. The three horses rode into the village, while Mary gave her brown mare a pat on the shoulder, causing the horse let out a content whinny. Since no-one tried to best this weather, Hugh and his sister rode though the large keep doors unto a dreary looking square unopposed.

When she saw the man standing in front of the double doors to the great halls, she lost what little breath she had. He was tall and slender, but muscled from working regularly. He wore a white shirt, that was obviously as drenched as their clothes, showing her the shadows of a few muscles she didn’t know men had. His oak brown hair stuck to the sides of his shaven face, which she studied in great detail. What she noted was that one of his eyebrows had a little scar across it, making it look like it was split in two. He had a square jaw line and his lips seemed fine lines, though they were obviously pale from the cold. By the time she wanted to study his brown eyes, she was once again disrupted from her thoughts by the voice of her brother.

“Will, good to see you! I take it Richard is in his study?”, said Hugh, although his tone of voice didn’t really match the enthusiasm of what he said. Panic struck Mary’s heart, because Hugh had named the man Will, which was not the man she came here to marry. She felt sad and dreary once more, although she hoped that Richard was at least a man like Will. She understood that Will was one of the servants here, because that was the tone of voice her brother had used.

Will indicated that Richard was indeed in the study, then stepped forward to help Mary off the horse. While Hugh slid off the horse with great ease, Mary was about to snip at Will that she could very well get off herself, but when he grasped her hand a warm shiver stopped her from speaking. She felt his warmth even through their drenched clothes as he slipped an arm around her waist and she was calmly lifted down. She pretended to stumble a bit, just so that she could lean forward and take in his scent. As she did so, her bosom accidentally graced his arm. He recoiled in shock, making her lose her balance instead of smelling this man. She quickly fell to the drenched soil, coating her with a thick layer of mud.

The Dark Visitor

I get plagued with random scenes in my head sometimes. There's a bigger story, but it's pretty much not writeable, but this scene sparked the inspiration for this blog.

The heavy wooden gates fell backwards onto the courtyard. As soon as the dust settled a creature stepped on top of the wood and strode forwards. Even though the courtyard was filled with guardsmen, the only sound came from a spotted grey mare standing at the start of the drawbridge behind the figure. The thing was shaped as a man, but was clearly not one. It wore robes that were not just black, but seemed to suck up the light instead. It seemed to wear boots, a tunic and pants of the same material. His gloves disguised what could be hands, but the pointed tips suggested that what was hidden were claws, as if the fact that the creature had just pushed down the gate without effort wasn't enough of a clue. The real give-away however was that in the shadow beneath the cap of the robes two red eyes lid up.

As the thing stepped off the other side of the fallen gate the guardsmen finally came in motion. They formed a wide circle and trained crossbows at the thing. They however did not fire. The red eyes flicked left and right, taking in every man. When the creature reached the centre of the circle of men, and the last ones closed in behind him, he finally stopped. Then a whisper started to come from the creature and quickly more whispers were added. After a few seconds it became one sound, as if all the whispers were added unto each other to form a full sentence:

"I come for Baron Stormraven"

The whispers died away, only to be replaced by whispers made by the men on the courtyard. It was promptly stopped as a door across from the gate opened and a pale, blonde man stepped out and walked towards the circle. Baron Stormraven's appearance was described in many poems, although the described 'fair' skin seemed a sickly white and his blonde locks were actually more like bleached straw. His vibrant blue tabard and the thick fur lining on top of his burgundy cloak were intended to make him look great and imposing, but they just made the contrast bigger. The Baron took up place amongst his men in the circle and looked at the thing. He called out:

"What brings you here, foul creature? Yonder mare belongs to my Sheriff. The punishment for stealing from my men is death". A short silence followed, until the first whisper formed from the creature. They formed words once again.

"The mare was ridden by a man who came to a village. His men started pillaging, until I stepped upon the square. I said I had claimed that village and that they should turn and leave. The man denied me and ordered his fellows to kill me. They hesitated, for they saw me for what I am. The Sheriff however did not. He rode his horse towards me, his sword drawn. So I claimed him as well". The creature reached inside its robes and drew something from them, which it threw at the feet of the Baron. Before that object had stopped rolling, the Baron had already seen it was the Sheriff's head.

"Who are you, that you dare claim my villages and men, dark figment?". The Baron's face was twisted in anger, as he drew his sword with a deadly hiss.

"I am what you claim I am. I am the Beast, I am the Dark One... I am Death and now I have come for you". The Baron slightly paled at this claim, however his stood his ground valiantly.

"Death does not claim the living until it is their time. Why, grim spectre, is it my time? I am in good health and my men are loyal, my enemies tremble in distant corners. You have no right to be here", the Baron spat.

"Your men, loyal? It is time to claim you, because of the fear your men showed. When the Sheriff had fallen, I had told them to leave again. However, they remained where they were, even with the one who ordered them around dead. There was something they feared more then this pillaging Sheriff. When I finally drew an answer from their lips, it was your name they spoke, Baron Stormraven. They were afraid of what you visit upon them if they fail. They fear that you will bring them to me.

"They say that things form to how they are used. The floor will show scrapes of the chairs that are moved upon it, taking their form. A sword will form more to the hand of its wielder, clothes will fit better with time. And so too is it with me. You have wielded me in the name of Justice, even if it was a false one, so Justice have I become. And now I am to visit this Justice upon YOU".

With this last loud whisper, the creature pointed to the Baron. As the echoes died away, the courtyard once again became silent.