The portal opened before him to show a towering structure that pierced the clouds as far as his eyes could see. This ancient Keep caused a gentle stirring within his soul, as if he had been here before, but that just couldn't be. The vampiress's word could not be trusted no matter what she claimed, all vampires were not to be trusted. They are perversions of nature and go against the natural order of the world.
Redemption pulsed gently in her sheath at his right hand,warning Sylus about entering this ancient place. He would normally have heeded the wise blades's note of caution, but the weapon on his right,Retribution, offered a gentle ressonance of agreement. Rarely if ever did Retribution agree with Redemption. Something about this place put both swords on edge. And something that could bring out such a reaction in them obviously meant they didn't want him to know something. Ever since the two blades had come into his possession they had become two of his closest companions. A swordsman viewed his weapon of choice as an extention of his own being. He had learned long ago that when both blades agreed, there was trouble in the water and proceeding with caution wasn't always the best path to take. To others it may seem a perverse logic, but when you know how two people, for that is how he saw the blades at his waist, think it is easy to know when and when not to heed their words.
Booted steps echoed across the draw bridge with a hollow sound to move beneath the open portcullis. Though the ancient Keep had a feel of abandonment, there were still traces that it was in current use by someone. And according to that Rhaine woman, he was the occupant. He couldn't find a lie in the vampiress's words, he would have smelled it but his own instincts screamed at him to leave this place. Ever since being brought to Rhydin, after supposedly having been found wandering through the halls of his family's temple a raving beast, his mind seemed to be clouded by a fog when he tried to remember the last several years that appeared to have vanished from his memory.
The last he remembered, his path was taking him from Kelvar on some rediculous journey that served no other purpose than to oust him from the kingdom so that a pompous fool who would be king could manipulate the council into nothing but a bunch of paid off minions. Any time he tried to focus on something new that felt familiar, a blinding flash of light and blurred his vision as pain seared through his mind and drove Sylus to his knees.
Path stopped in the courtyard then as he paused to removed that figurine the vampiress had given him. One that she said belonged with him. The one that showed him with a silver haird elf, though beautiful beyond measure, he felt a kindred pull towards. Yet he couldn't think of who she was for the life of him. Something was definitely wrong with his memroy. It was usually perfect. No faces forgotten, all names remembered. His line of work counted on silent movements, quick sword skill, and a perfect memory.
"Who are you? And why does your image bother me so?"
Figurine replaced to the pocket of his vest it was through the giant double doors he went. Seeking that which he had somehow lost.
Redemption pulsed gently in her sheath at his right hand,warning Sylus about entering this ancient place. He would normally have heeded the wise blades's note of caution, but the weapon on his right,Retribution, offered a gentle ressonance of agreement. Rarely if ever did Retribution agree with Redemption. Something about this place put both swords on edge. And something that could bring out such a reaction in them obviously meant they didn't want him to know something. Ever since the two blades had come into his possession they had become two of his closest companions. A swordsman viewed his weapon of choice as an extention of his own being. He had learned long ago that when both blades agreed, there was trouble in the water and proceeding with caution wasn't always the best path to take. To others it may seem a perverse logic, but when you know how two people, for that is how he saw the blades at his waist, think it is easy to know when and when not to heed their words.
Booted steps echoed across the draw bridge with a hollow sound to move beneath the open portcullis. Though the ancient Keep had a feel of abandonment, there were still traces that it was in current use by someone. And according to that Rhaine woman, he was the occupant. He couldn't find a lie in the vampiress's words, he would have smelled it but his own instincts screamed at him to leave this place. Ever since being brought to Rhydin, after supposedly having been found wandering through the halls of his family's temple a raving beast, his mind seemed to be clouded by a fog when he tried to remember the last several years that appeared to have vanished from his memory.
The last he remembered, his path was taking him from Kelvar on some rediculous journey that served no other purpose than to oust him from the kingdom so that a pompous fool who would be king could manipulate the council into nothing but a bunch of paid off minions. Any time he tried to focus on something new that felt familiar, a blinding flash of light and blurred his vision as pain seared through his mind and drove Sylus to his knees.
Path stopped in the courtyard then as he paused to removed that figurine the vampiress had given him. One that she said belonged with him. The one that showed him with a silver haird elf, though beautiful beyond measure, he felt a kindred pull towards. Yet he couldn't think of who she was for the life of him. Something was definitely wrong with his memroy. It was usually perfect. No faces forgotten, all names remembered. His line of work counted on silent movements, quick sword skill, and a perfect memory.
"Who are you? And why does your image bother me so?"
Figurine replaced to the pocket of his vest it was through the giant double doors he went. Seeking that which he had somehow lost.