DDO Olympics Storytelling: Round 1

Lord Ravensworth edged deeper into the Hanging Forest.It proved distasteful to him. The sight of so many bodies suspended in the air, dangling from the trees like leaves, sickened him. Still, after last night, it was best not to take any chances. Gren, for all his other traits, carried with him a deep-rooted fear of the dead. Lord Ravensworth used to tease him about the superstition. He smiled at the memory. Then he frowned. He and Gren had known each other for years, even before the Great Rapture. What could have made him behave so oddly last night? True, Gren could become a beast when drunk. But even so, something had felt sinister about how determined he was to make Lord Ravensworth stay. And Cardin.... Lord Ravensworth pushed the thought aside. He'd always excelled at solitude. Having two older brothers in a Lord's estate will do that. His father had only started trying to correct that after their unfortunate deaths, but by then, it was far too late. "No wonder you're no real son of mine," growled Lord Ravensworth senior. "You have no will to power." Lord Ravensworth shook the memory away. He'd taken great pleasure in burning his father's copy of Beyond Good and Evil following his death. Even in the daytime, the Hanging Forest retained an aura of darkness. The trees were tall, thick, and strong, more than capable of blocking out sunlight. Supposing one enjoyed darkness, it was a fitting place to die. The Hanging Forest was the abyss of humanity colored by the night. Here there was no logic, no reason, no philosophy. There was only the physical presence of darkness and the hatred it nourished for the outside world.And he was either brave or foolish enough to venture into it. The Hanging Forest was, in a word, huge. It spread from the outside of town past Gren's cabin and even further into the horizon. Branches snapped underfoot like human spines. The silence weighed heavily on Lord Ravensworth, nearly as oppressive as his father had been. Only the occasional creak of a body turning on a rope or the rustle of feathers as scavengers took flight disrupted the stillness. The minutes took eternities to pass. Lord Ravensworth hadn't made much progress. He could still discern Gren's cabin, the sole beacon of civilization. Was Cardin sprawled on the ground in there, dead, fresher than any of the corpses staring in silent judgment? Suddenly a figure appeared from the cabin. Lord Ravensworth wrapped his cloak around his body, blending with the shadows. It wouldn't fool anyone up close, but the cabin was fairly far away. He recognized the figure as Gren. "NATHAIR!" Gren bellowed. "WHERE ARE YOU?" He glanced around, but Lord Ravensworth remained motionless. Motion draws the eye like chum draws sharks. Cardin emerged from the cabin next, and Lord Ravensworth's heart leaped. The boy was alive! A strong urge to run over to him gripped Lord Ravensworth, but he fought it back. "CARDIN!" Gren had yet to stop screaming. "WHERE DID HE GO?" Cardin's response, spoken at a normal volume, proved inaudible to Lord Ravensworth. Gren laughed and clapped Cardin on the shoulder. Then the two set off in the direction of the beach. Lord Ravensworth smirked. Well done, Cardin! He was throwing Gren off the scent. Lord Ravensworth just hoped Cardin could keep up the act. So long as he could outwit Gren, he'd remain alive. The feeling of being watched draped across Lord Ravensworth. He glanced over his shoulder. The only person around hung about ten feet off the ground. He appeared to have climbed up to a sturdy branch, wrapped the rope around it, and jumped. His neck hung at an unnatural angle, but he had not yet been hanging long enough for it to snap. His clothes - or, rather, the rags that remained of them - were filthy and torn. One eye was missing from its socket and, to Lord Ravensworth, it looked like a black hole. The longer he stared at it, the more images flashed through his mind. Perhaps the man had had rich brown hair, like his half-brother Arthur or blonde hair like Maria. Lord Ravensworth averted his gaze. For the rest of his trek through the Hanging Forest, he kept his head down. With Gren gone, he didn't have to penetrate the forest's depths. So he stuck to the outskirts, slipping from tree to tree until the cabin was well behind him. Only then did he return to the path. The air seemed cleaner, untainted by death. The Hanging Forest remained on his left, but it held no power in the light. The sun reigned overhead, blissfully ignorant of the decaying earth below. Nature, perhaps, was the cruellest mistress. The bones of men bleached under the sun to feed her cavernous maw, yet she remained bound to her stoic indifference. Lord Ravensworth, not for the first time, contemplated death. He would never hang himself, as he had always considered it coarse. Besides, it was a painful, slow way to go, and while Lord Ravensworth knew he might have deserved such a death, he certainly didn't wish for it. Though did that really make a difference? With the world as it was, there were very few men who deserved an honorable death. Lord Ravensworth didn't delude himself into thinking he was one of them. Cardin, perhaps. Maria, if she were still around. Oh, how he missed Maria! The wind running through his hair might have been her gentle fingers. The warmth might not flow from the sun at all but from her smile. He'd bought the lighthouse for her. "So the whole world can see you shine," he had said. She'd smacked him playfully. "Romantic sap." Then she'd kissed him. He could almost feel the touch of her lips now, warm and soft, the only solaces in an uncaring world. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ The first time they met occurred during the period of the sun's death. The sea glittered a robust orange. Lord Ravensworth observed it in silence. How could water hold so much magic? It seemed that the answers to all questions lay hidden in the water's depths, in a darkness more absolute than the Hanging Forest, in a domain where man was little more than a shrimp. Lost in those thoughts, Lord Ravensworth stepped backward and collided with someone jogging along the beach. Caught by surprise, he toppled over, and the person landed on him. He looked into her sea-green eyes. "Are you okay?""Watch where you're going," she said. She freed herself and stood him, extending a hand to help him. "Sorry," he muttered, taking the offered hand. She pulled him up with ease. "I didn't notice you." "Men always notice me." She smiled. "Are you flirting with me?""Perhaps." She lifted a finger to her lips. "My name's Maria." "Nathair.""Nathair! Ooh. What are you, from a fantasy book or something? Oh, now I've made you blush. I'm sorry." "No, it's just - well, you're never finding out my last name now." She blinked. "That's not fair." "You started it." "Hmm." She studied him. Nathair admired her posture. It felt a bit like he was being examined by an artist. "Smith?""What?" "Your last name. Is it Smith?" "No." Nathair concealed his grin. If only his last name was so ordinary. If only he belonged to a family that ordinary. "Bill?""Whose last name is Bill?""I knew a guy once. I've known people with plenty of strange last names.""What was the strangest?""Imabench." "BS." She shook her head. "It's true! He was bullied like hell in middle school." "And my last name is Ravensworth.""Is it really?" Nathair's grin faded. He wanted to tell this woman the truth. He wanted to tell her everything. Why? He'd never felt that way about anyone before. He'd always hid things from people, from his father. Why was this Maria any different? Maria had taken his silence as a yes."Oh my God!" She doubled over, laughing. "That's brilliant!" Nathair watched her in surprise."Do you really think so?" "Of course! Ravensworth! I love it! Maria Ravensworth.""Whoa. Let's not get too hasty. We just met - by you falling on top of me, I might add. I wasn't prepared for that, by the way. If I had been, you'd have never knocked me over." A fierce grin settled over Maria's face."Challenge accepted." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ A shout pulled Lord Ravensworth back into the present. A little ways ahead, he could discern a banner rising above a hill. The image etched across it depicted a woman with angel wings folded across her body. She held a flaming sword which, as evidenced by the fiery streaks in the background, had been put to use. Several men's bodies decorated the bottom of the banner. Even without words, Lord Ravensworth knew at once who owned it. The Virgin Church. Quickly, Lord Ravensworth dived off the path. He crept back toward the Hanging Forest, taking care to keep as low to the ground as possible. Once the procession reached the top of the hill, they would doubtlessly spot him if he ran. He moved as rapidly as he could. The edge of the Hanging Forest was only feet away now. He could make it! The banner reached the top of the hill just as Lord Ravensworth reached the safety of the trees. Once again, he immersed himself into his cloak and watched the procession as it gradually drew nearer. There were about twenty men, all wearing the gray-and-scarlet robes of the Virgin Church, save for the leader, whose robes were black. They all wore masks to conceal their faces. The procession stopped near Lord Ravensworth. His heart nearly exploded out of his chest when the leader turned toward his hiding spot. "Come out, stranger!" Lord Ravensworth froze. The leader's voice was deep and commanding, and it reminded Lord Ravensworth of his father. "Come out and shuffle off this mortal coil! Come out, that we may free you from suffering and send you to meet the Lord! Come out and enter the darkness!" Lord Ravensworth ran.