ThePandaDirector
04-18-2010, 08:17 PM
I've only just started Malifaux, still waiting for my stuff to arrive. Just thought I'd right a story while I waited (haven't written in quite a while). Thought this up today, so here's the first (and possibly only) part.
The night was cold. Kurt could barely see his own steaming breath for the fog that clung to his shivering form. The shroud, the colour of moonlight, blocked out the lights of the not so distant capital of advancement.
But he didn't need to see to know that the warmth of the city was beyond his reach, with nature acting as a barrier. Out here on the outskirts of the dead kingdom, the breath of tragic ghosts extinguished the warmth in men's hearts. Those who wandered the mossy ruins and overgrown shanty towns, existed only to stand as a testament for the endurance of the human condition. Kurt himself arrived only two years ago, after loosing everything in a bad business adventure. Now he was king of his very own castle, left to wander its conquered battlements and desecrated halls.
Kurt rubbed his hands and breathed on them. He loitered around the open courtyard, muttering curses under his breath.
Then a clatter of metal caught his ear. He turned sharply in the rough direction.
Nothing.
“Oi who's there?”
The eerie silence was only broken by a distant, echoing sound of something dripping.
“Come out you vagabond!”
Kurt drew his pocket razor blade and swung it so it whistled tunelessly in the air.
The dripping sound grew louder, followed by the odd echoing clatter of metal.
Kurt strained his eyes to see. But no form took shape. His heart began to beat in time with the more frequent dripping sound. He no longer knew if he was shaking of cold or fright.
“I don't want any trouble..”
Then suddenly, less than five metres from him, a small creature crept towards him.
It was short, with thin, gangly limbs jutting out a potted body. It wore furs and large metal studded leather boots, and carried a knarled spear. It's face was twisted into a snarl, with beady black eyes glaring glaring down a long pointy nose that loomed over a maw of needle teeth. Its bald head was crowned in what appeared to be a pointy red hat, made of cloth.
But it was dripping. Thick droplets of dark crimson splattered on the ground as it shuffled forward, leaving a splattered trail behind it. Where the blood was flowing from and how it held its form boggled Kurt's fear-gripped mind.
Then instinct took over. He ran.
Across the courtyard, through the cracked entrance to the West Tower and up the spiral staircase to the battlements. It was only when he paused for breath that he realised his folly.
“Hah... haa...help!!” he cried tragically. The creature was in the doorway now, shuffling towards him. He could hear the clatter of its arms, the curse in its breath and the terrible dripping sound over his own pleading breaths.
A form moved silently up the North Tower.
The creature lowered its spear, it's lean legs poised to leap forward.
A ghost clung to the shadows, observing, eyes fixed on the beast.
Blood began to trickle down the monster's face, which triggered a gurgling howl.
Kurt was crying now. He had also lightly soiled himself. Though his life ended when Aribeth left him, he thought that despite the hardships he had fought - and lost - he would live on, holding onto the warmth of a better tomorrow.
But there was no warmth in this land, only the bitter cold of a bitter nature.
The creature, now sure of its catch, leapt onto the battlement wall.
Kurt dropped his razor blade and held his hands over his chest. He rubbed his wedding ring religiously as he began to accept his fate.
The silent guest held his vigil.
The beast lunged forward. Kurt screamed.
The spear impaled Kurt through his lung, as the creature's gaping maw dug into his shoulder.
With the creature now lodged in its victim, the figure stepped into the twilight.
Dressed in a long blue coat, a wide rimmed cowboy hat and a spine of books, linked by rope, running down his back, his swift moving form caused a ripple in the fog. The creature noticed him in the corner of its eye, only to see a large barrelled rifle swing up and take decisive aim.
The creature tried to evade, but it's spear was caught in its last victim. It gave out a cry.
Then the gun gave out a crack and all was silent once more.
Kurt lay on the ground, choking on the blood that flooded his lungs. The beast lay sprawled on the ground, its bloody cap melting away from the smoking hole in its forehead.
The hunter moved towards Kurt, leaning down close.
Kurt gurgled.
“Who... are.. you?” The man replied in a grave, authoritative tone.
“There's no time to explain.” he drew a small photo from his coat; depicting a young girl with red hair. “Does she look familiar, have you seen her?”
Kurt's hearing had been replaced with the the dying thump of his pulse.
“Do you recognise her?” His voice seemed inpatient, tainted with emotion.
“.... I never had childre...”
Kurt's vision began to blur. The last thing he saw was the innocent smile of the red haired girl.
“Dammit”
The man put the photo back in his pocket and stood over the two bodies for a respectful moment.
He began to make his way when a voice called from the ethereal air.
“Nicholas...”
The man turned. He called out to the lingering night.
“I did as instructed.”
“Why did you let the beast feast before death? Why not save the human?”
“He was a decoy, kept the Redcap stationary, nothing more.” he moved towards the exit, before adding coolly. “You pay me to hunt corruption in nature, not to save those ignorant of their own innocence.”
He strode into the mist, towards the unseen expanse of the city, leaving the dead castle under the rule of its dead king.
The night was cold. Kurt could barely see his own steaming breath for the fog that clung to his shivering form. The shroud, the colour of moonlight, blocked out the lights of the not so distant capital of advancement.
But he didn't need to see to know that the warmth of the city was beyond his reach, with nature acting as a barrier. Out here on the outskirts of the dead kingdom, the breath of tragic ghosts extinguished the warmth in men's hearts. Those who wandered the mossy ruins and overgrown shanty towns, existed only to stand as a testament for the endurance of the human condition. Kurt himself arrived only two years ago, after loosing everything in a bad business adventure. Now he was king of his very own castle, left to wander its conquered battlements and desecrated halls.
Kurt rubbed his hands and breathed on them. He loitered around the open courtyard, muttering curses under his breath.
Then a clatter of metal caught his ear. He turned sharply in the rough direction.
Nothing.
“Oi who's there?”
The eerie silence was only broken by a distant, echoing sound of something dripping.
“Come out you vagabond!”
Kurt drew his pocket razor blade and swung it so it whistled tunelessly in the air.
The dripping sound grew louder, followed by the odd echoing clatter of metal.
Kurt strained his eyes to see. But no form took shape. His heart began to beat in time with the more frequent dripping sound. He no longer knew if he was shaking of cold or fright.
“I don't want any trouble..”
Then suddenly, less than five metres from him, a small creature crept towards him.
It was short, with thin, gangly limbs jutting out a potted body. It wore furs and large metal studded leather boots, and carried a knarled spear. It's face was twisted into a snarl, with beady black eyes glaring glaring down a long pointy nose that loomed over a maw of needle teeth. Its bald head was crowned in what appeared to be a pointy red hat, made of cloth.
But it was dripping. Thick droplets of dark crimson splattered on the ground as it shuffled forward, leaving a splattered trail behind it. Where the blood was flowing from and how it held its form boggled Kurt's fear-gripped mind.
Then instinct took over. He ran.
Across the courtyard, through the cracked entrance to the West Tower and up the spiral staircase to the battlements. It was only when he paused for breath that he realised his folly.
“Hah... haa...help!!” he cried tragically. The creature was in the doorway now, shuffling towards him. He could hear the clatter of its arms, the curse in its breath and the terrible dripping sound over his own pleading breaths.
A form moved silently up the North Tower.
The creature lowered its spear, it's lean legs poised to leap forward.
A ghost clung to the shadows, observing, eyes fixed on the beast.
Blood began to trickle down the monster's face, which triggered a gurgling howl.
Kurt was crying now. He had also lightly soiled himself. Though his life ended when Aribeth left him, he thought that despite the hardships he had fought - and lost - he would live on, holding onto the warmth of a better tomorrow.
But there was no warmth in this land, only the bitter cold of a bitter nature.
The creature, now sure of its catch, leapt onto the battlement wall.
Kurt dropped his razor blade and held his hands over his chest. He rubbed his wedding ring religiously as he began to accept his fate.
The silent guest held his vigil.
The beast lunged forward. Kurt screamed.
The spear impaled Kurt through his lung, as the creature's gaping maw dug into his shoulder.
With the creature now lodged in its victim, the figure stepped into the twilight.
Dressed in a long blue coat, a wide rimmed cowboy hat and a spine of books, linked by rope, running down his back, his swift moving form caused a ripple in the fog. The creature noticed him in the corner of its eye, only to see a large barrelled rifle swing up and take decisive aim.
The creature tried to evade, but it's spear was caught in its last victim. It gave out a cry.
Then the gun gave out a crack and all was silent once more.
Kurt lay on the ground, choking on the blood that flooded his lungs. The beast lay sprawled on the ground, its bloody cap melting away from the smoking hole in its forehead.
The hunter moved towards Kurt, leaning down close.
Kurt gurgled.
“Who... are.. you?” The man replied in a grave, authoritative tone.
“There's no time to explain.” he drew a small photo from his coat; depicting a young girl with red hair. “Does she look familiar, have you seen her?”
Kurt's hearing had been replaced with the the dying thump of his pulse.
“Do you recognise her?” His voice seemed inpatient, tainted with emotion.
“.... I never had childre...”
Kurt's vision began to blur. The last thing he saw was the innocent smile of the red haired girl.
“Dammit”
The man put the photo back in his pocket and stood over the two bodies for a respectful moment.
He began to make his way when a voice called from the ethereal air.
“Nicholas...”
The man turned. He called out to the lingering night.
“I did as instructed.”
“Why did you let the beast feast before death? Why not save the human?”
“He was a decoy, kept the Redcap stationary, nothing more.” he moved towards the exit, before adding coolly. “You pay me to hunt corruption in nature, not to save those ignorant of their own innocence.”
He strode into the mist, towards the unseen expanse of the city, leaving the dead castle under the rule of its dead king.