A Week of Bad Luck

(( This is an OOC story, so no meta-gaming, not that I really expect anyone to xD Just trying out mah writing skeeelz. Sweeney also hereby declares he is cool, and that he'll likely get rather annoyed and confront anyone who meta-games knowing of his return from an untimely demise. Peace. ))
I sat outside the Blue Recluse, as usually. Due to the fact my bag was stolen yesterday, the spellbook and my tailoring equipment was all gone, leaving me without anything to do. I had taken a look at the Command Centre earlier, Shanura wasn't there, and the most of the other guards have never seemed very... Friendly, so I'd rather stay here and wait. I suppose that I could've trained on aiming and firing the new flintlock I bought, due to the events that occured yesterday I decided to get one with the little amount of money I had left. Rudely enough, the thugs not only stole my hobby, they stole my -job-, I couldn't get any money if I couldn't even sell clothes anymore. I, most likely, would have to ask for a few loans.
I was just about to leave the table, given up on any friendly face would appear before I felt an unsuspected hand placed on my shoulder, my heart skipping a beat before I quickly turned my head, eyeing a man in a dark hood and cloak, his shoulders looking quite broad, but what caught my eyes was the glowing eyes from the hood, like a radioactive item.
Even though I could not see his face, he looked more than frightening. I shrugged my shoulder, trying to shrug his hand off me, but he only clenched his fingers tighter, it almost hurt a bit.
"Having a pleasant night, are you?", his voice was sinister, sophisticated, deep and grumbly.
The fact that he kept his grip of my shoulder made him seem quite more intimidating.
"Let go of my shoulder! - Who do you think you are?", I tried to hide that I was frightened by putting on my frown, and what people claim to be 'attitude'.
"You'll see." he said, and suddenly a type of shadow energy, smokey in texture engulfed both him and I entirely. I gasped at the shock, and flailed as I had the sensation of being squeezed through a narrow pipe. I couldn't make sense of the dark things I could see.
Just a second later I found myself in a dark room, quite small. I peered around with an expression of unease, broken furniture on the ground. The only that light up the room somewhat was the moon from outside of the window behind me. The dark man was standing in front of me.
"Lillian North.", he began.
I turned my gaze in his direction as he said my name.
"You may remember over a year ago, I attempted to sway you into the Dark Arts.", he continued.
Correction, -Sweeney Rasmussen- continued. A slight fury grew inside of me, as usual. Just being near him makes me angry, or maybe more threatened, but it was a bit more frightening knowing it was him, my attitude growing a bit due to that fact that I was scared, my mind refusing to make me to seem weak, yet it usually fails. My gaze followed Sweeney warily as he walked past me, the floor creaking underneath his feet before he paused at the window. The window having a few cracks in it, but no missing pieces however, but it sure didn't look stable. He looked out the window as he spoke.
"Remember, Lillian?" He insisted casually.
"... Maybe", I didn't want to give a direct answer, I didn't want to cooperate with -him-.
"Hm... I remember you parents...", he began in that dispicable, well-mannered tone he maintains frequently.
He just had to go there... He -has- to scratch up old wounds, and it's obviously not enough, then he has to pour salt into them.
"They pleaded for me to spare your brother... I killed him in front of them, he squealed like a girl. Do you remember -now-, Miss North?", he turned to me.
I could notice how he attempted provoke me - It worked. I nodded briefly as I pulled out my new flintlock, just as I was about to take aim he pulled out his wand with ridiculous speed, pointing it at me. His reactions were that of a wildcat's, and he had his wand at my chest before I even had my pistol at his shin, so I gritted my teeth resentfully and lowered my weapon.
"Now now, Lillian. Do behave yourself.", he said, "Fire it at the floor. I don't need you picking up that gun when I'm not looking."
I did what I was told. I fired the flintlock, with a few complications as I'm not too skilled, at the floor. He raised his head slightly, likely rolling his eyes under his hood: unimpressed.
"I have enough problems -without- you already! Wh-", I was interrupted.
Sweeney fired a curse from his wand. I yelped as I fell over, bracing myself on the floor. Everywhere, my nervous system felt prickly and stung - As if I were being stabbed with needles. He twisted the wand slightly, the whole spell having an uncomfortable noise, the pain began getting more intense, I let out a loud scream in agony. My eyes watering, I stiffly moved my lower arm over my face in a protective way. The pain was almost unbearable.
"I know you're here, intruder. I'll give you say... Ten seconds to leave this town and I won't end your life.", he said.
I, neither, understood what he meant by that, confused as I was, I kept crying on the floor.
"Bah, can't get anything done without complications.", Sweeney muttered impatiently.
He knelt down to me, seized me by my hair. I kept sobbing as he forced me back onto his chest, moving the wand poking at my neck, I shut my eyes to prevent more tears. Hostage-like, he dragged me with him.
"We have an intruder.", he said as he moved me to the next room. His earlier sentence made a bit more sense.
"Hi...", I heard a female voice, she sounded afraid, I didn't blame her. I didn't dare open my eyes.
"Evening.", Sweeney greeted politely.
"I'm not interrupting anythin' am I?"
"I'll give you say, five seconds to get running, and I won't kill you."
"I'm goin', I'm goin'...", she said as I opened my eyes slowly, kept them a bit squinted.
Saw a female in a bit of a lighter burgundy coloured hood, I didn't see much of her face, but I noticed her peering a me briefly before turning her gaze back at Sweeney.
"Hurry it up then.", Sweeney said, aimed his wand towards the female, she sprinted towards the staircase as he sent a spell towards her, I don't think she was hit.
Sweeney continued to hustle me with him to the room we was in earlier.
Sweeney walked me over to the window, taking a grip of both of my shoulders before placing his foot on my back, pushing me into the window. I gasped as I, almost completely, shattered the glass with my body. I fell out the window with a loud scream.
I landed upon lots of shattered glass, surprisingly alive and without any broken bones, or bigger injuries. I had received lots of small cuts, and a few bigger. I had begun crying again, keeping my gaze downwards.
"Follow me.", I heard Sweeney's voice say again.
How he got down here so fast? I have no idea, not sure if I really gave one, either. I was shaking with the mixture of cold and warmth, the cold from outside, Duskwood apparently, and the warmth from the blood slowly escaping my wounds. I sobbed as I pressed my palms to the ground, pushing myself up.
"FOLLOW ME, WENCH!", he shouted.
I jerked my head back slightly in a cower-ish manor as he yelled, I sobbed as I felt a disturbing pain from my guts, looking down seeing a, quite large, piece of glass stuck in my flesh, not a too deep wound, but I ripped it out before covering the wound with my palm.
"Let us see where your, supposed, 'witch' sister is, then.", Sweeney continued.
Once again, he had to scratch up another wound. I felt that I wasn't in the right state to even argue with Sweeney about that, mainly because, of course, Sweeney most likely knows she wasn't a cultist. I slowly halted after him into what seemed to be a cemetery, we passed quite a lot of tombstones.
"The witch section...", he said, turning to a 'Tombstone', which really would just be looking improvised.
The tombstone was out of wood, looking far too cheap for being a tombstone of my sister, in my opinion. Sweeney leaned in slightly towards it.
"Here lies Ranya North, died a witch and burnt; May purity find her in the afterlife.", he read.
I lowered my head, as I hoped she was alright in the afterlife too. Hopefully she was with mother, father, and brother.
"... I was there at the burning, were you? 'Twas a large crowd...", he said.
Once again, he mocked me, just pouring salt into my open wound. My eyes watered up slightly again, I raised my one fist to my face, wiping off the blood from a little cut on my cheek before turning my gaze to Sweeney, trying hard to cover it up with attitude, failing somewhat.
"I was...", I sighed. "Why do you just... Scratch up old wounds?", I said without thinking clearly.
"Ever heard of the term 'sadist'?", Sweeney replied.
At least he's not denying it, but it's far from a good reason to hurt another. He paced over to me.
"There you go then.", he said before lowering his voice. "Here's a bit of dark magic for you."
Sweeney pointed the wand at the grave, the grave explodes in a burst of shadow energy. I widened my eyes, dropped my jaw unintentionally. The corpse of Ranya arised into the air, placed in the position of a crucified.
"STOP THAT! She deserves to rest in peace! Not walking around as a mindless ghoul to a -cultist-!", I burst out, hysterically about, as I couldn't do anything about it myself.
The corpse of Ranya drifts forward, her head tilted slightly.
"Liiillian...", it whispered before exploding,
Terrified as I was, I cowered my arm before my face.
"Do you want to kill me, Lillian?", Sweeney leaned in from my side, whispering. "Do you desire to slit my throat and grimace as the puddle of blood grows?"
No matter how much that statement would be true, I decided to not speak my mind, not too clearly.
"You doesn't deserve to be alive, hence people trying to execute you.", I said with a bit of insecurity.
"They deserve to be slaves, they waste their lives.", Sweeney stated before changing subject. "Let us see how your powers have progressed. You know how to duel, I presume, yes?".
I nodded as an answer.
"... First, we draw our magical magnifiers, if any. For you, your staff, for I; my wand.", he said as he drew his wand in a slow motion.
"I was just recently thrown out a window! Do you really think I'm in state to be dueling?", I shouted.
"No. No I don't.", he said carelessly. "Draw! YOUR WEAPON, -WENCH-!".
I frowned at his lack of sympathy, but not the least surprised, taking a grip of my staff.
"And next, we bow.", he said as he bowed.
I felt it somewhat suppressing to bow before him, as the fact; I have no respect for him, and I will never.
"Finally, take your stance.", he said as he placed his right foot forward, and his left foot a bit sideways.
He extended his left arm behind him, keeping his right arm pointed towards me.
I couldn't really claim I had any specific fighting stance, so I just picked something that would seem easy.
I placed the butt of the staff in the dirt, holding my right hand onto it, keeping my left hand at about shoulder height in front of me, I would begin letting it grow flames.
He twitched the wand slightly, a shadow blast flying towards me, five times the normal size. Its' tail with is pale green in colour, the shadow part resembles a skull, barely noticeable.
I stumbles back as I'm not quick enough to avoid it, luckily I was able to stay on my feet.
I braced myself slightly for a few seconds before returning to my 'Normal' battle stance, shoving the flames growing on my hand towards Sweeney's feet.
He whips his wand, dispersing the fire bolt.
Before I know it, a flurry of shadows comes flying. I extends my arm, creating a brief shield of Arcane, which would break quite instantly after getting hit by the shadowbolts.
Sweeney stamps his foot forwards instantly after the shield getting hit. I get hit by a massive shockwave of shadow-magic, flying.
Sweeney teleports himself to me as I lie down on the ground, looking up towards him before he would strike me with the same curse as earlier, the stinging in my nervous system.
I burst out a scream as I braced myself on the ground.
"Say your parents were -cowards-, Lillian, say they were pathetic, say they deserved what they got, that's the only thing that'll make the pain stop, pathetic fool!", Sweeney shouted, his wand arm shaking lightly as he twists the wand - The pain of the curse getting more intense.
I gritted my teeth, a small attempt on grabbing Sweeney's ankles before my hands would burst out in flames. My arms were moving stiffly, shaking due to the problems in my nervous system. Sweeney looked down at me, stepping back slowly, mockingly. He intensifies the curse. I let out a loud cry of pain, tears flowing from my eyes.
"... Say it, North, SAY THE WORDS, THAT'LL MAKE IT STOP!", he shout as he whips his hand out, shadow-smoke spewing from his palm, forming into a very smooth images of my family, yelling abusively at me. I gulped before speaking.
"They-... They were c-cowards.", I spoke with a hoarse voice of crying, trying to ignore the images.
"Pathetic, wastes of -SPACE-, WOULDN'T YOU AGREE?!", he continued.
The way he was talking down on the people who raised me was horrible. They weren't just people who had me a place to stay. They loved me, no matter what, they fed me, taught me, they -raised- me. They -cared-. I shut my eyes, covering my eyes with my palm, crying.
"LOOK, SEE FOR YOURSELF!", Sweeney shouted.
I didn't remove my hands, I refused to.
"... Say it, say they were pathetic.", he said.
The pain being far too much for me to handle, I wouldn't be too far from beginning to beg, but I refused to go that low, not for him.
"They were pathetic...", I lowered my voice, opening my eyes a slight bit.
My family's forms rotate shapelessly, re-living the moments of their death. Starting with my parents and my brother, he's sobbing on the rug, cringes. My parents are on their knees, stroking my brother in a comforting way; begging, looking up at where Sweeney would be.
They watch warily as Sweeney supposedly moves about in the room, my father slowly grabs a kitchen knife, running forward, but in a flash of green light, he flies back; dead. The form disperses into shadow energy once again.
My mother screams, shaking her head as she cries, my brother grabbing onto her robe, crying also, begging for their lives. The scene brought me to tears. I knew the 'story' from what I heard from Sweeney, and I had seen the remains of the 'crime scene', but re-living the moment was awful, as if I was there; Unable to do anything about it.
My brother stands up emotionlessly, turning towards me. His head turns back as his throat splits open, spewing 'blood' all over me like a fountain. I could do nothing but lie on the ground and watch, the curse almost numbing me; Well, I wish. I was crying rather hysterically, not caring if it was seen anymore. My mother was sobbing pathetically as the form of my brother disperses, she then appears to be tied to a pole.
A miniature figure of my old farm is what my mother forms into; it stands calmly. Then, the windows shatter as nimbuses of flame spew out, the scream of my mother sounds distant, then the figure disperses. I shut my eyes to prevent the crying, trying to get the fact that it was only figures.
"Admit that they died... Like animals. As they lived; so are such people, close minded and submissive.", Sweeney said.
I kept quiet, sobbing.
"ADMIT IT!", he seemed to be losing patience.
"They may have been... Cowards and... Pathetic... But they were better people than you could ever be...", a lot of insecurity was showing in my voice, but I felt it was moment to speak my mind.
Sweeney let out a long, drawn-out sigh before relinquishes the curse.
"... To you, to you.", he said.
I opened my eyes, a bit of 'hope' growing that, I, actually had gotten the slightest sense into him until I placed my palms on the ground, preparing to stand up.
"... But for the sheer cheek of that statement...", he continued, moving his wand across me, a flash of fire that pierces through my skin harmlessly.
I fall back to the ground again as I feel how my blood begins to boil. -Boil-, like getting struck by boiling hot water, bathing in it, having it -INSIDE- of your veins, unable to escape it. I let out a loud cry of pain before continuing to squeal, squirming on the ground.
"This is how pyromancers -were- to use their energy.", he says, before towering up over me, smirking. "Was it worth it, showing cheek? ... Could've kept silent, and this wouldn't have happened. But I feel that imbeciles such as yourself always have to have their way..."
I keep squealing and squirming. After a few seconds he sighs, lifts the curse.
"Now, you can either attempt to attack me or leave this place.", he begins. "What do you choose?".
I pressed my palms to the ground, pushing myself up, dusting my robe off arrogantly.
"I'd rather... Not waste my time on cultists.", I said.
Almost instantly after I said that, Sweeney dashes forward, clenching his fingers around my jaw, pulling my head forward, I getting alarmed as he does so.
"-I- am no cultist.", he claims.
"You use shadow magic, it's good enough for the Guards.", I said.
See; there's a reason why I'm quiet, when I get to speak my mind I get in trouble.
"Zathoros uses shadow magic.", he said.
Once again, he -had- to rip up another wound, which barely even been healed. I frown at the mention of Zathoros. He -had- to bring him into this, someone I miss, quite a lot, someone who cared. Someone I'm forced to stay away from. Someone I cried for... And someone I'm too selfish to even try to contact again.
"You're nothing more than a hypocrite, which are one of the things I hate most on this world...", he said.
"... I'm not a hypocrite... It doesn't matter anyway...", I denied.
"Zathoros has tortured many men and women, he has killed many who have stood in his path and would continue to do so; He is sadistic, he enjoys his work. He aims to destroy many lives, villages, and societies. We are quite alike.", he said.
'We are quite alike', once I heard him say that, rage grew. Instantly and angrily I swatted Sweeney's hand away from my face. How could he even say that?
"-Yet- you're willing to have dinner with him... Hug him... Kiss him... Be bedded with him... He even corrupts his own child. Ask yourself; why the bloody Nether are you with him?", he continued.
I was a bit speechless for a few seconds, I wanted to say something clever to protect myself, I -have- a good reason why I was with him, I just don't know the words for it yet.
"... Well? No answer? I didn't -think- so.", he said.
I was thinking as quickly as possible for an answer to not looking completely stupid, for once.
"I don't believe you!", I shout.
"Do you not?", he questioned.
"... He never seemed like that type of person. You two are -NOT- alike!", I continued.
"Hm...", uttered Sweeney.
"And what about Phil?", I asked, staying quiet for a second. "She was a priest of -Light-, and she was able to -marry- him, so I do not believe you!"
I felt guilt once I thought of Phil, I feel like I betrayed her. She was my closest friend, but also married to Zathoros.
Once she 'died', she had her daughter in her arms, Raven. I felt like I had responsibility to return Raven to her father, but hence I never met Zathoros before it happened, I had no idea what he looked like.
I took care of Raven for a few months until Zathoros caught me carrying her around Stormwind, instantly 'interrogating' me, wondering why I was carrying his child. I handed Raven, who just was a baby, over to him, and told him what happened to Phil.
Zathoros sulked away and it took a few months until we met again. And we got a bit close.
I'd blame it on we both being quite depressed, and just needed -someone- at that moment. But Phil is... As good as dead, even Zathoros didn't believe it was much hope on her coming back, and he should be more devoted into getting her back than anyone.
Sweeney moves his palm towards my head, I step back as I swats his hand to the side again. Not risking to be struck by another curse.
"... Scarlet was turned from the Light, and she was too weak to deal with the Darkness. She was driven insane, and was, ultimately; Killed, by another cultist. Her soul is either lost or in Zathoros' possession.", he spoke as he kept trying to place his palm onto my forehead.
I kept swatting it away before he seized me by the shoulder, succeeding to place his palm on my forehead. Numerous of memories of Zathoros' crimes, people he had killed, people he had tortured, the various meetings with cultists was shown before me. My expression fading, my eyes dim.
"It don't even matter... I have nothing to do with him anymore...", I uttered.
The Guards knew of Zathoros' crimes, and of my relationship with him. A SI:7 agent interrogated me some week ago, saying that unless I cut off all connection to him, I'd be executed.
"At least he -has- something good in him. You're just evil right through.", I said, a bit 'fading', expressionless voice
"No, Zathoros was too weak to act on the power he was given...", he said. "And why he loved you is a mystery."
Just a brief smile as I heard it, as if I was having doubts on it. Knowing that someone cares means a lot to me... Maybe a bit too much.
"He married Scarlet because he is a masochist, he wanted to suffer right through, as well as her to suffer. That's why she turned.", he continued. "Evil is a matter of opinion.", he places his fingertips on his chest for a brief moment. "I? I am a predator, a very intelligent one. I pick my targets, like paladins do, we're both predators, we simply differ. My methods, you do not agree with. What I do? No. But my future plans? To give humanity wisdom..."
"If you methods include murdering innocent people and children; It's not a good method.", I said.
"Ah, that was one I killed out of enjoyment. Now I kill for the betterment of the future, not the degradement.".
"'Enjoyment'? That's just even worse!".
"I also kill people I do not trust, or eavesdroppers, snitches, or people of rather...", his gaze trailing off to the side. "... Despicable persuasion. Such as now, for instance."
He reaches for his wand, pointing it at a figure standing beside a tree; an old man, a grave digger by the looks of it. I followed his gaze before I'd widen my eyes as Sweeney fires a lightning bolt, green in colour. It sends the grave digger flying backwards, dead when he hits the ground.
"This curse separates the soul from the body, as well as the life force, resulting in painless, instantaneous death.", he turns to me for a second.
I let out a sigh.
"Return to Stormwind.", he commands before getting engulfed in shadow energy, vanishes. I nod once before peering around, heading off from the cemetery. My gaze returned to looking dim and faded.
Returning to Stormwind with my bad luck...
(( Don't kill me for my grammar mistakes D: I tried fixing them at least O_o For some reason I keep thinking "Doesn't" is in the past... /Facepalm ))
Category:Texts