Post by Eldrin/Vai on Feb 10, 2016 22:53:25 GMT -6
Shortly before our Heroes found Solace...
Eldrin. Eldrin. Eldrin. EldrineldrineldrineldrineldrineldrinELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRIN! And so on...
Thus was the mind of the poor, utterly demented soul who meandered down the streets of Kakariko on this fine, sunny summer day. He probably held the esteemed distinction of being the only freak odd enough to be swathed in a jet black cloak, in the middle of such a nice day. It was necessary however. He had to hide. Had to hide. Hide. Hide from Eldrin. Hide until the time was right. The thief was a fool. Thieves could be many things, but foolish? No, no, no, no, no... foolish was a fatal mistake. This thief had stolen the wrong body... the wrong life...
He stole Ranza Siskin.
That fucking scum. He had taken everything from Ranza. His body. His life. His friends. His mentor. Even his cousin. Images of his best friend Kadina flashed through his mind, the plucky lass was always up to some antics. Nothing illegal, of course... dear Kadina would never stoop to such scandal! And of course, there were his beloved, the love of his life... his wife Iona. The sweetest, kindest, and most beautiful woman he knew. His friends, Argoth and his son Max, Torak the butcher (who owned the local deli, of course), Faro (a trusted advisor to the king), and many others. They were all gone. All taken. All corrupted. It was Eldrin's fault. It was all Eldrin's fault.
The thief didn't even use his name properly! Ranza Siskin, of the great House Siskin. The were nobles in the Sheikah culture of old. Ranza was, of course, the head of his house. His cousin Azrael had join the clergy of the Golden Goddesses, and his priesthood removed him of the rights of the eldest male Siskin.
No matter...
No, no, no, no matter...
He would have his revenge. In time. In time...
For now, though, he would return to the home of his ancestors, to the village of the ancient Sheikah. These people, who stopped and stared at his looming figure, at the wicked scythe that he dragged behind him in the dirt, they were not Sheikah. They were just like Eldrin. They had stolen this village from his people... from his family... from him! He could contain himself no longer. He purge this village of its sins. His birthright was sick... infected with thieves... and he was the medicine. The rage was boiling up from his rotting throat. His gold and scarlet eyes glared out from beneath the cloak, catching the first foolish thief in the eye.
Ranza moved so fast that the cloak around him shred instantly, the pieces that remained intact fluttered to the ground in flames. Ranza was upon the thief before he knew what was happening. He grabbed the man's upper and lower jaws in either hand, and tore them clear of eachother. The man fell, half decapitated, to his knees. Somewhere behind him, a woman shrieked in horror. Before the noise had even fully exited her throat, Ranza turned and retrieved his discarded scythe, and she was severed in two before she even saw him turn. As he bisected corpse spilled onto the dirty floor, Ranza threw himself through the air with such force, that the air around him peeled little strips of skin from his face. He crashed into another witness, grasping the thief's head as he impacted. The puddle that his head became ended up at the bottom of an elbow deep crater. Ranza pulled his hand out of this depth and licked off what gore remained on his hand. It was as he did this, his shredded face alight with the embers of his regeneration, that he saw the last witness standing at the end of the street.
Ranza spat the blood and brains in his mouth into the dirt. "Tastes like thief... foul, rotten meat. But, you... How do you taste?" He spoke with a certain sort of glee, like that of a small child on his birthday. His lips stretched much too far, to reveal two rows of crooked, rotting teeth. He flicked his scythe with enough force to create a small shockwave in the dirt below, splattering the ground with the blood that had been dripping from the blade.
Eldrin. Eldrin. Eldrin. EldrineldrineldrineldrineldrineldrinELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRINELDRIN! And so on...
Thus was the mind of the poor, utterly demented soul who meandered down the streets of Kakariko on this fine, sunny summer day. He probably held the esteemed distinction of being the only freak odd enough to be swathed in a jet black cloak, in the middle of such a nice day. It was necessary however. He had to hide. Had to hide. Hide. Hide from Eldrin. Hide until the time was right. The thief was a fool. Thieves could be many things, but foolish? No, no, no, no, no... foolish was a fatal mistake. This thief had stolen the wrong body... the wrong life...
He stole Ranza Siskin.
That fucking scum. He had taken everything from Ranza. His body. His life. His friends. His mentor. Even his cousin. Images of his best friend Kadina flashed through his mind, the plucky lass was always up to some antics. Nothing illegal, of course... dear Kadina would never stoop to such scandal! And of course, there were his beloved, the love of his life... his wife Iona. The sweetest, kindest, and most beautiful woman he knew. His friends, Argoth and his son Max, Torak the butcher (who owned the local deli, of course), Faro (a trusted advisor to the king), and many others. They were all gone. All taken. All corrupted. It was Eldrin's fault. It was all Eldrin's fault.
The thief didn't even use his name properly! Ranza Siskin, of the great House Siskin. The were nobles in the Sheikah culture of old. Ranza was, of course, the head of his house. His cousin Azrael had join the clergy of the Golden Goddesses, and his priesthood removed him of the rights of the eldest male Siskin.
No matter...
No, no, no, no matter...
He would have his revenge. In time. In time...
For now, though, he would return to the home of his ancestors, to the village of the ancient Sheikah. These people, who stopped and stared at his looming figure, at the wicked scythe that he dragged behind him in the dirt, they were not Sheikah. They were just like Eldrin. They had stolen this village from his people... from his family... from him! He could contain himself no longer. He purge this village of its sins. His birthright was sick... infected with thieves... and he was the medicine. The rage was boiling up from his rotting throat. His gold and scarlet eyes glared out from beneath the cloak, catching the first foolish thief in the eye.
Ranza moved so fast that the cloak around him shred instantly, the pieces that remained intact fluttered to the ground in flames. Ranza was upon the thief before he knew what was happening. He grabbed the man's upper and lower jaws in either hand, and tore them clear of eachother. The man fell, half decapitated, to his knees. Somewhere behind him, a woman shrieked in horror. Before the noise had even fully exited her throat, Ranza turned and retrieved his discarded scythe, and she was severed in two before she even saw him turn. As he bisected corpse spilled onto the dirty floor, Ranza threw himself through the air with such force, that the air around him peeled little strips of skin from his face. He crashed into another witness, grasping the thief's head as he impacted. The puddle that his head became ended up at the bottom of an elbow deep crater. Ranza pulled his hand out of this depth and licked off what gore remained on his hand. It was as he did this, his shredded face alight with the embers of his regeneration, that he saw the last witness standing at the end of the street.
Ranza spat the blood and brains in his mouth into the dirt. "Tastes like thief... foul, rotten meat. But, you... How do you taste?" He spoke with a certain sort of glee, like that of a small child on his birthday. His lips stretched much too far, to reveal two rows of crooked, rotting teeth. He flicked his scythe with enough force to create a small shockwave in the dirt below, splattering the ground with the blood that had been dripping from the blade.