MunaZaldrizoti 5766 Share Posted March 1 Spoiler The eyes of Milena vas Ruthern were held tightly shut, focused upon nothing but the sound of her own breath. For two days since her encounter with Sir Mikolaj, she had spent hours of her time locked away within the Weeping Tower of Morteskvan, attempting to divine the future as he had instructed. For the youngest grandchild of Duke Viktor, achieving this was imperative to her future success. She held herself to a higher standard, failure was no option even at such a tender age. As a chilly wind whistled through the stone-carved windows lining her bedchamber, she thought of nothing but conjuring forth some sort of image. A sign or portent of things to come. Inhale, Exhale. Inhale, Exhale. Inhale…Exhale. Her nose wrinkled in frustration. Nothing but darkness was beheld behind those closed eyelids. Her fingers curled into fists atop her lap, jaw tensing. Her will would command that vision to reveal itself. Inhale, Exhale. Inhale, Exhale. Inhale… ◆ ◆ ◆ An eruption of images blurred that darkness, breaking that induced silence and filling her mind’s eye. Flashes of red and gold, black and gray A castle shrouded in snow, looming tall against the backdrop of the mountainside. Soldiers, garbed in chainmail and helms, stomped through several courtyards, muddied and battered. A great hall, glowing under the light of torches and sconces lining the walls. Despite that warmth, a chill still persisted. Milena observed from one end of that chamber a man, wounded and kneeling before the great dais ahead. Atop it, a blackened seat wrought from that same rock comprising the foundation of that mighty fortress. Her lips parted, to call out to him, to ask what was going on…but no words broke through that veil. She was beyond him, a witness. A looming figure emerged, a woman whose face was obscured in shadow. She was richly garbed in red and black, proud in her gait as she stepped before that intimidating throne. Slowly she descended, step by step, until she arrived before the kneeling man. He lifted his head…but seemed not to fear her. Milena could not see his face either. Shrrrrrrk! The sound of steel rang out, the fastest movement Milena had seen, as it emerged from within the woman’s sleeve. The squelch of blood made her breath catch in her throat, drops of the man’s ichor falling to the floor like hastened snowflakes. He gurgled and choked…and died there, before his killer. The woman’s bodice was stained now, a reminder of her deed, but she seemed little bothered. The red lady stepped over his corpse…and seemed to look at her audience, that lone viewer intruding within her hall. That hidden blade was lifted…pointed directly at Milena. ◆ ◆ ◆ The youth was jolted back to her reality, as if waking from a nightmare. She gasped for what air she could find, a pale palm splaying against her chest. With the belief this would be some form of mystical experience, it was nothing less than a distant, but potential reality. The image of that slaying was imprinted in her mind. The Oracle would know of this divination. Milena knew it would not be her last. Spoiler (Do not metagame this post unless it is told to you in roleplay, this is solely for narrative purposes) Just some vision-posting for my little ghost girl! Thanks to @Demavendfor jump-starting what will hopefully be a really interesting story arc! 22 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
GMRO 5275 Share Posted March 1 Ser Rickard stared at his youngest child with suspicion. “Visions of death and destruction are never a good omen.” He commented dryly. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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