Return to Nanthalion (for Carthad)

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Return to Nanthalion (for Carthad)

Postby Lysabeth on Wed Aug 04, 2010 1:01 am

Digits swept through hair the color of cornsilk, drawing it back from her features as she rode in the back of the wagon. This trip home had not been a delightful one - never before had she had to reduce herself to whoring to find a way home, had there been something said that had poisoned those coming to Nanthalion about her? Either way, she had no idea, and had lowered herself to pleasuring the man currently controlling the reigns of the horse that pulled the wagon. She had him drop her off at the edges of town, as she did not want him knowing where she lived.

She walked from her home, after changing and cleaning herself up to rid herself from the dust of travel, to the Cave of Dwindling Light. Eyes sliding closed as she stepped foot into the expanse of the Temple, stepped foot into the line of sight of those scuttling, scurrying spiders. The curvy human female would cast her gaze upwards, finding those spiders she knew to be his - her voice rising upwards, calling to them, beckoning them closer to her. "Tell him I have returned..." The words pouring from cherry hued tiers, as she would begin moving ever deeper into the heart of the Temple.
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Re: Return to Nanthalion (for Carthad)

Postby xmastersethx on Wed Aug 04, 2010 5:01 pm

Carthad rested within the depths of the temple, sweat running down his brow as he'd channel still more of the malevolent magic that had been discovered for him at Umbara, the necessary enchantments to ensure that those captured for the festivities he had planned would indeed stay trapped there. Of course the fact that he was doing all this enchanting on his own was terribly taxing...and his body shuddered lightly with the exhaustion of finishing up yet another manacle. Perhaps he should contact the SS, sub contract out the production of some of these items...afterall, Umbara had helped with the research. Then again he didn't know how Myra would react when she learned the purpose of the items....but mehrials were mehrials.

His little beasties alerted him, the long dead spiders with bloated abdomens pumping the necromantic embalming fluid he home brewed to keep them together, sending the signals that there was an interloper. Not quite, a prodigal priestess more accurate. One whom he'd shared much with in early times, then who'd attemted to betray him, her usurpation punished. Since that schism she'd come and gone, their connection less strong than it had been before...despite certain confessions. Still, she'd hear the whisper of his message spell in her ear, as if spoken from the shadows around her. "My sanctuary"
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