Posted by: regpriest | July 13, 2010

Tales for Tuesday: Lock Love!

I have played this game for nigh on 5 years now. Is it any surprise that I have a ton of alts? This is the story of my warlock Alsatia. She like… well… if Mary Poppins really had sinister intentions. But it’s not poor Aly’s fault she’s demented and evil! It runs in the family!!!

Family Traditions

“Pull the blanket tighter, Lavali.  We don’t want any limbs sticking out. Good. Cover her well. All right, let’s lift her, over the back of the horse…”
It was a most undignified position, being draped over the back-end of a horse. An old, wobbly, flatulent horse at that. But in times of trouble, one takes what one can get.
“Do you see anything? Nothing? Right then, everyone, let’s be going. We don’t want to waste the darkness.”
*********************************************************************************
When Alsatia Pendleton was 10 years old, that small nugget of selfishness that all children have began to grow into something darker. It was the beginning of her power, and when her parents first saw it, they were endlessly proud.
“Aly, I want to talk to you about what I found in your room yesterday.”
She walked into the kitchen and saw her handiwork, her offerings, laid on the kitchen table.
She couldn’t read her father’s expression. His face a placid lake on a windless day.
“Did you do this?”
“Yes”
There was no point in lying. Her mother would have found them in her chest, under her night-clothes.
“What did you summon?”
“An imp, Father.”
“What’s it called.”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t care about their names. Only what they can do for me.”
He stifled a smile. “What did it do for you?”
“I sent it to burn down the York house.”
He nodded. “I see. I see.”
The York House had burnt to the ground three weeks before, killing everyone inside.
“Did it follow your instructions without a struggle?”
“I would have it no other way.”
Her father’s restrained smile broke into a broad grin. “Your mother will be so proud. She said you had the beginnings of a true demonologist in you, and here you are.”
Alsatia allowed herself to smile, a rare treat for her face. It was so nice to be able to make your parents proud by doing something you loved.
*******************************************************************
“Where are we taking her Father?”
“Deathknell.”
“Where?”
“Deathknell. It’s an encampment of Forsaken. They take the newly risen and train them into a useful profession, so that they may be able to take care of themselves and help in the war.”
“Why are we taking her there?”
Andrew Pendleton sighed. Honestly, you had to explain everything to this one.
“Because, Lavali, we are going to bury Alsatia in the soil of Deathknell so that she may rise again and rejoin our family.”
“I don’t understand.”
He put his face in his hand, “Scorchling, please. Stop asking questions.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her feet, shuffling along the cobbles as they approached her sister’s birth place.
It took hours to dig the hole to Father’s satisfaction. First it was too shallow.
“Do you want your sister to wake up with a face full of mud?”
Then it was too deep.
“She will never claw her way out of that! Girls… really…”
Finally, it was just right.
“I suppose this is good enough.”
They couldn’t just dump her body in the hole, it had to be placed there, with reverence. Her books on her chest, a small spade to aid her release from the earth.
“Maybe we shouldn’t fill it…”
Andrew looked at his wife, “Louise, love, she needs to be encased in the foul earth of Deathknell if we want her brought back. She has her books, she has our letter. She will find us.”
She nodded, and smiled at her daughters, covered in dirt and sweat, holding shovels.
“All right, dears. You heard your father.”
And so, the three remaining daughters of Andrew and Louise Pendleton began to fill their sister’s grave while their parents watched with hopeful eyes. The girls would feel resentful, if they didn’t know their parents would be doing the same thing for them, and that Alsatia herself would be filling their grave with her trademark vigor.
The things one does for family.

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