Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: cedint22@acs.ucalgary.ca (cedint22) Subject: [Jiri]: FFD ptIII- The Hunger That Shan't be Stayed... Message-ID: Date: Sat, 4 Dec 1993 20:12:10 GMT Keywords: Cain, Soulstar, Kalhad, Storm, Lady Death, Black Aria [admin]: This is a reposting of Flight From Darkness part III, first posted last April during the Great Storm, as told by Kalhad the Blackk. The wind howled in fierce fury, and almost, it seemed, in triumph. The Black Ship of Lady Death clove brutishly through the darkened waves, gathering a speed of unholy magnitude as it bore down upon the ship of sea-doomed men. The Lady herself stood at the bow, smiling upon all that She had wrought. Long black tresses She had, hair that was so full and beautiful it was almost alive. And Her lips- so full, so hungry. Of Her eyes most cannot speak, for to look into the eyes of the Lady of Death is to bare your soul to Her. I, though, know those eyes. I know them well. Of the deepest black are they, and bright in a dark sort of way. They _shine_ darkness, just as the blue eyes of the Soulstar's captain shine bright. It is those eyes, those doorways to the Nine Realms of Hell... [Is she not beautiful, little bird? She is my lady, my love...] The Lady curled her lips into a evil smile, and an equally hungry tongue ran along them as She did. Her captain was making up for his previous mistakes, the Soulstar now being caught between Her ship, and Her beast. A melodious laugh escaped Her as She watched the men scramble across the deck of their ship, as if there was something that they could do. ******** A scream escaped Magarth's lips as he saw the huge black shape rise up out of the sea in front of them. The shrill call was actually an order, but even had it been distinguishable it would not have been obeyed, for the other sailors at the bow were also as terrified as the second mate was. It took a crucial moment for him to get over his initial panic and call again for the spinnaker to be pulled in. He knew that a quick turn would be necessary, and it would be disaster to come about with the parachute like sail still flying. It would simply tangle up in the riggings and with the other sails as it collapsed. The men manning it began to frantically obey, trying to pull it in, their eyes now on the work, and not the monster. The black sail began to come down. Cain looked briefly at it, witnessing the silver star emblazoned upon it fall from the glorious position it had flown at moments before. The Soulstar falling, he thought. That was the most evil of omens... He tore his dark thoughts away from the spinnaker sail and thrust them towards darker subjects. A huge black shape had begun to rise up from the deep, straight in their path. There would be time enough to come about once. That monster better not move fast. The black haired man tried to get a better view of what it was that rose in there path. Even as the sail came down, the dripping black water began to fall from the sea risen shape. No, he thought, not just water, water and kelp. Cain knew fear when he looked upon the horror before him. He knew then what it was to be afraid. The beast that rose up was terrible indeed to behold. Fully as high as the ships' mast it rose from the water. Under the black weed and kelp it was a deep dark blue, with a green underbelly. Cain couldn't decide if it looked more like a snake or a dragon. Or something completely different. The creature of the deep had two baleful red eyes that glowed in the halflight of the storm. It's maw was even more fearsome, for many long fangs did it hold, each as long as a man's arm, but much thicker around. Two, no three, rows of these teeth did it have. Here was a beast that could bite a ship in twain. And I tell you now, that is exactly what it had done many a time in the past. This was a beast that should not be. Cain hollered the order to come about just as the spinnaker sail was hauled in. Skip and the Helmsman laboured with the tiller, trying to turn the wheel as fast as they could. Even with both men working on it, it was taking too long. Cain quickly lent his strength to theirs, and the combined might was enough to turn the rudder sharply through the thick sea below. The men held fast to the wheel, not letting up for an instant. As the ship turned past the turning point, Taylor shouted "Helms a lee!" and the sailors frantically pulled at the riggings and sheets as the sails caught the wind from their new angle to it. Even as the new tack set, the beast howled in rage and slowly turned to head the Soulstar off. "We'll not outrun them both Cain!" Skip shouted over the noise of beast and storm. "We must choose the lesser of the two evils." "I know Skip, but I don't think that there is much choice for us. Whoever, or whatever, is controlling this unholy storm sent this evil ship after us, and now has called up a daemon of the deop. They never intended to give us a choice in the matter. Our hand is forced." The captains' blue eyes took on a fierce glint as he took a long careful look at the ship now closing the distance between them. They were the cold and calculating eyes of a killer, of an assassin. After his mental calculations were complete, Cain turned back to Skip, a fierce and evil grin splitting his hard face. "Skip, they force our hand, but we'll not go along with their plan." "We won't, captain?" Old Skip was puzzled, for he could see no way out of their predicament. "No, old friend. We won't. See now, the daemon seeks to head us off again. If it were left to it, we'd be clinging to splintered wood right now. Whatever master keeps such pets has this one on a tight leash. They want us, Skip. The Black Ship wants us. Well, they shall have us, but not as they want us! We're going to board them." Skip nearly choked on his tongue. "B-b-board them, captain? Surely you can't actually mean.." "Yes I mean it Skip," Cain interrupted. "They won't expect us to take the initiative and attack them. Hell, when did the merchantman ever turn round and attack the pirates? We've got no other option but to die- and we may not even have a choice in that matter. But if we're to die this day, we do it on our own terms." Skip felt the fierce pride that so often came up when his captain was concerned. Never did Cain back down. Never was he afraid to face death. And never did he like to accept life on it's own ground. They would die alright. But they would put up one hell of a fight. Skip turned, his face beaming, and called to the sailors that even now made ready to fire on the beast. They were wheeling the cannon that Cain had designed into position on the starboard side to fire on the seademon. They were puzzled by his order, but moved the long strange gun to the bow anyway. It fit easily into the metal grooves set in the deck, and was lowered into them with an audible click. The wheels folded up neatly to the sides of the guns' base, and they swivelled it around to face the fore. They didn't load it with an iron cannonball, but with strange steel shards that Cain called 'shrapanal' or something like that. Once the gun was in place, the Soulstar did the unconceivable. The Lady had watched them wheel their gun into place, laughing at their futile attempt to kill Her fiend. Its' life was nothing, once its' purpose was fulfilled- and it would be soon, for there were only a few two hundreds of meters separating the ships now. She was becoming very excited now, for soon She would feed and satisfy her wild lusts. She felt the heartbeats of every man aboard the other ship now, and they pulsed through Her, giving Her the feeling of having Her own heart for a fleeting moment. Oh, but She would have her fill today. As She stood on the deck of Her flagship, The Black Aria, She searched carefully for the life-feel of the one She sought. Ah, there it was- unmistakable, with its' fire and its' vibrance. It was always pleasing to find a death dealer that was so... alive. She was pleased when Her greatest servants were like that- it was so much more pleasurable to take one of them. They fought until the very end, and even as She took them, they still defied. She had no doubts that Her current quarry would put up such a fight. Ah, there he was. She could see him now upon the deck of the Soulstar. Clad in black breeches, shirt and cloak, as was appropriate. Even as She smiled once more in anticipation, the mortal surprised Her again. The Soulstar prepared to turn again. But where to? There was nowhere to go... The Lady of Death howled in rage at Her ships captain, even as She smiled inwardly, for the humans' ship was turning to face them! Oh but the wonders of wonders. Mortals never ceased to surprise Her. When it seemed that they were left no choices, they always found a way to take their destinies into their own hands. Their destinies they could take, She laughed, but not their fates. Their fates were Hers to mold. Oh, but this would be pleasing. And pleasure was what She sought... Cain took his sword from the young sailor who had fetched it and strapped the sword belt round his waist. His hand gripped the pommel until his knuckles were white as the Soulstar came round completely to face the Black Aria. He studied the other ship carefully. There was less than a kilometer between them now, and this distance closed quickly as both ships hurtled cross the waves at each other, the one still on a starboard broad reach, the others' tack now a port beam reach. The black ship did indeed have a huge tear in her mainsail. The other sails too were tattered and torn with age, yet they still all caught the wind somehow. The ship was completely black. It wasn't painted so, Cain knew. It _was_ black- its wood, its bones, its very soul. Even the sails and riggings were of that colour. It was strange- Cain dressed always in black, but the black of the other ship was not just in its' colour, but its' very nature. Cain gasped aloud, a chill hand running up his spine as the crew of the other ship became visible. They were not men. This did not surprise him, for he knew at first glance that the ship was evil. But they were far more so than he had imagined. Skeletal wraiths scrambled over the riggings. Animated corpses scurried across the deck. The spinal remains of long dead sailors sailed that ship of death. A figure in a black cloak and hood climbed up onto the poop deck to stand beside a large behemoth manning the wheel. Another corpseman stood there as well, obviously the captain by the looks of his tattered hat and cape. The hooded figure seemed to look right at Cain, and even though he could see no face, he knew that eyes long dead, nor ever alive, locked with his own blue orbs. The Lady laughed a casual and almost carefree sound, if not for the malevolent undertones, as She locked her prey with Her black eyes. Even as the deer freezes when seeing the wolf's eyes, Cain was rooted to the spot upon where he stood. He tried to call an order, but his lips moved not and no sound escaped him. He tried to turn away, but his muscles would not obey his mind. The hooded figure tore at his vision even more than the black flag flying above had earlier. He screamed inside his head, straining to gain control of his body. A dim part of his mind registered a concerned query from someone. Skip. It was Skip. His heart thudded dully in his ears. His breath seemed laboured and ragged. Cain saw long black tresses blow out from under the hood of the dark one. It is the Lady of Death upon the seas. She has come for me. How he knew this, Cain could not fathom. But he had known so earlier, when the storm was first sighted. When he had said the She would ride the black waves of the storm, he could not have possibly known how right he had been. Where the knowledge came from would never be known, and it mattered not. All that mattered was her... NO! Cain strained hard against the unseen eyes that held him. I will not fall so easily, his mind screamed at his tormentor. I will not be your toy. With a finally audible cry, Cain tore his eyes away from the gaze even as Old Skip stood in front of him and began to shake him by the shoulders. "I'm... I'm all right Skip. What happened?" "You sure Cain? You went all funny like. It was as if you were frozen." Skip was feeling relief flood back into him as Cain regained his composure. "There was something there Skip. Something with eyes that burned right through me, into me..." Cain shook his head once more to clear it, then risked another glance at the black ship, careful not to look at the aft end and the figure in black that he knew was there. The two ships were only five hundred meters apart. He saw no cannons on the other ships deck, only the swarming skeletal wraiths. Quickly he directed his attention to his gunner. At his nod, the man turned and called his orders. A moment later, the cannon shook and spit out its steely breath. Chunks and shards of metal torn into the other ship, shredding sail and sailors alike. As they turned to reload, Cain held up a hand as all on board gasped in horror. The corpses that had fallen stood up again, some missing arms and legs, others cut nearly in half. Before astonished mortal eyes, the legion of the dead began to heal itself, new limbs sprouting, and new corpses growing from the severed limbs. Cain quickly gave the order to load with 'ball, and the gunnery crew lowered the angle of the long cannon, now aiming for the hull of the black ship. They had forsaken this a moment ago because of the danger of having the other ship list in front of them. They had to take that risk now, for the shrapnel hadn't done what it was supposed to do. Another shout, and the cannon fired again, hitting the other ship high up on the hull. Black wood splintered well above the water line as the missile hit right below the rail at the bow. The men scrambled to readjust the angle and reload for one more shot. They ships were less that three hundred meters apart now. Once more the silver dragon spit its' steel breath, another 'ball hurtling towards the oncoming ship. This one struck lower down, and further along the port side. The small hole it made was low enough that water began to flow in as the ship hit the crests of the higher waves. The crew of the 'Star cheered as they prepared for one more shot. Would they have enough time? Two hundred meters now. One hundred and fifty. The angle was ready. The deck of the other ship was filling steadily with more corpsefoe as they came up from below or down from the rigging. One hundred meters. Taylor gritted his teeth as he saw the thick black ropes being brought to the fore of the skeletal crowds. Some of them even readied crude bows. There wasn't much time left... A crashing boom as the dragon spit forth another bolt. Time seemed to slow as the cannonball flew from the mouth of the cannon and on to it's target. It was a little high, as the ships continued to close. Wood and flesh splintered as the deadly steel ball crashed over the railing of the ship and struck the center of the deck, right at the base of the mast. Several of the wraiths that had been in the missiles direct path did not stand up this time. There was not enough left of them to regrow. The mast creaked, then shook as a huge crack began to run up its length. The missed shot had actually done more good than harm. The mast of the black ship began to splinter and break, and slowly swayed back and forth as the relentless wind continued to tear into it, heedless of its' weakened and damaged state. The Black Aria was crippled, for it could not move without a mast to support its' sails, no matter how well they worked in their torn condition. Yet as the deck of the black ship began to crack, a jolting thud rocked the Soulstar. Men flew headlong and barrels below strained and broke their lashings as the sleek vessel shuddered to a grinding halt. Amid cries of surprise and shock, new sounds of horror sprung up as the first sailors saw the forgotten sea daemon. The scaly monster had gripped the 'Star in four massive arms. Claws sunk deep into the wood, locking into the sides of the ship. Even as Cain's ship slowed to a rough unnatural stop in the creatures grasp, the Black Ship of Lady Death also slowed as its' mast began to topple. Strangely, it toppled not with the wind, but in the opposite direction that the wind should have blown it. An unseen hand guided the mast to fall directly in the path of the Soulstar. Only fifty meters now separated the two ships. The black ship moved on as it quickly lost speed, and the 'Star inched forward at only a fraction of its' previous speed. The blue and green beast let go of the Soulstar with one arm and held it out to brace his mistress's ship. The mast fell lazily, not at all worried, as the Soulstar slid forward through the waves. Her crew looked on in helpless horror as the ship moved into the path of the toppling mast. Sailors scrambled across the decks to get out of the way of the black mast. With a resounding crash that was loud even above the howling storm the mast connected with the deck of the Soulstar, crushing the railings on either side of the deck, the evil black sigill flying now above the waves on the far side of the 'Star, where the masts top extended. Cain swore an unholy oath as he rushed down to meet Taylor on the deck. The monster now held both ships side by side, and they both shook one final mighty shake as they were locked in together in the grip of the hideous behemoth of the deep. As the men struggled to their feet, so too did the Legion of Death on the other ship, now but twenty feet away, and alongside. Black ropes began to fly across the gap and grappling hooks took seat in the railings of Cain's ship. The black clad captain drew the sword of the Kaladh'ran and readied to face the corpse foe that even now began to soundlessly flow across the bridge made by their ship's mast. The men of the doomed ship drew their swords and advanced to meet the onslaught with grim looks upon their faces. The only sounds that could be heard were those made by the wind and waves. Ropes and timbers creaked and moaned. Even the great seabeast had fallen silent. Of a sudden, the sailors began to scream their battle cry as one, but still the undead army held its' oath of silence as the first of them swarmed over onto the deck of the Soulstar. ****************************************************************** "I see that I have caught your interest, little bird. Would you like to hear more? Hehehehe... It matters not what you would like, for I will tell you the tale anyway. But it amuses me to ask you. Do you see? Do you see how futile mortal existence can be? When the Lady sets out to satisfy Her lust, and I tell you that lust is great, men shall fall and men shall die. She will reap Her harvest from the fields of the earth, and cut men down with Her great reap. No mortal hand can stay the Hand of Death." The mist seems to pour back up, and the scene dissolves. Kalhad the Blackk gathers the mist up into his blackened hands again, playing with it for a moment, then sending it to snake back round the mind, and the throat. Malevolence incarnate is his dark voice. "Oh sweetest darkest Lady of Death, Give unto me thy icy breath. Let me taste thy lips so cold, Of mine soul thou doss take hold. Squeeze me tighter in thy grip, And hie thee now to Cain's doomed ship." Fingers of mist, twining and circling. Tightening round the mind, taking root in the now pure soul. Probing, questing, searching, the tendrils of mist feel through the mind until they find what they seek. Now, they have it. The sweet lips kiss softly, caressing and teasing. Then suddenly, they are gone, and the snakes of mist are biting the soul, injecting their dark venom through fangs of Night. Slowly, ever so slowly, the body shudders as the poison of the Dark begins to taint the soul. "Funny what you hear, when you're sitting in the dark." --Kalhad the Blackk, Master of Mists and Walker of the Dark. Dani Treutler. -- Dani Treutler Kyhra on FurryMuck. Cain at alt.pub.havens-rest Jiriku at alt.pub.dragons-inn cedint22@acs.ucalgary.ca or cedint22@educ.ucalgary.ca "Cows make milk." - Jake