Driven By Hate - A Druchii Blog

Ladies and gentlemen, druchii and goblins, ravens and orcs, you are cordially invited to peruse..



A collection of tales chronicling the exploits of Raucir Lustingclaw and the ill-favoured House Sathar.



So basically, I've been writing a lot lately, and what with the spotlight the other week and the positive and constructive feedback I've received for my posted Druchii Tales on The Grey Kabal's forum, I've decided to open up a seperate blog for the whole thing.

Obviously Raucir's tales are the focus of the collection (every aspiring writer should be considered an egomaniac), though I'll be posting the occasional Bonus Story when I have the spark to actually write something interesting. I'm also intending to Write On Demand at some later stage, once I'm more confident.

Thanks to all of House Sathar for their warm welcome, their ongoing perseverance in Warhammer Online and their help and advice on my writing.

As a final note, I'd like to point out that right now Driven By Hate is a work in progress which needs a lot of tweaking, and that I'm beginning by posting one (maybe two) excerpts a week so as to help my run up at giving this writing shit a serious shot.

Read on! \m/

Od.

"Vault Secure!"

So Fallout 3 then.

I've been playing this every now and then. I ain't impressed. It isn't nearly as much fun as a good game of WAR - there's no-one around to fight!



It's a fucking wasteland! There's nothing out there but ruined buildings, tumbleweeds, radiation and the occasional rabid dog or robot! Where's my damned horse?! WHY CAN'T I SPRINT!?

WHY IS STEALTH IMPOSSIBLE!?

Only joking. I got my copy for free, so I'm not really angry about anything.

But I would like a horse..

It's a pretty game, isn't it? But as usual, my first reaction to the well-detailed environments and rolling tumbleweeds, perfectly-drawn hairs on the character's face and expressive feautres, was, 'Shiny. Like a high-tech Oblivion.', and let's be honest, that's what it is. It FEELS like Oblivion. When you move, when you fight, when you talk to characters, when you ride your horse OH WAIT YOU CAN'T DO THAT I FORGOT.

Not that I'm bitter about it or anything.

The problem with such massive, immersive games like Fallout 3 (or as I've taken to calling it, the F3 Virus), is that there's so. Much. TALKING. And so many f-ers to talk to! Oh sure, 'not if you avoid the main quests', you might say. But that's why I'm here! I play games because they have STORIES behind them. I wanna know who's gonna blow up the world, who's gonna kill everything, who's gonna save them and above all, how many guns am I allowed? I don't WANT to spend twenty hours just wandering around and occasionally killing things because there's nothing else to do. I want interaction, drama, fast-paced action and a flowing storyline! Not Travel-Dungeon-Kill-Loot-Sell-Repeat! If I wanted THAT shit I could just go and play Warcraft.

Being an incredibly indecisive person given to sudden, irrational mood swings, I don't get on with it because I never fall into any of the accepted types. Fallout comes with a nice array of playstyles, just like Oblivion, but like every game I've ever played, what it comes down to is that if you don't have the opportunity to pick a dedicated class (ie rogue, fighter, wizard etc, blah blah blah yakkety shmakkety), it can be extremely difficult to try and stick with one.

For example, by nature I prefer to keep in the shadows, wait for my moment and stab people repeatedly in the neck. If I work out that I can't do this, like in Fallout 3 where EVERY LITTLE NOISE attracts the attention of every fucker from Thunderdome and beyond, or the fact that every single enemy has TELESCOPIC SUPER VISION like Superman and shit, thus rendering sniper rifles pointless, then my other playstyle is to play tactically. Adjust my approach to suit the situation.

But because one is forced to semi-specialise, this isn't a viable option. In an ideal world I would either take the stealthy approach, which consists of, as mentioned, repeated stabbing, and silenced pistols, sniper rifles and the occasional grenade ("Fraggle out!"), or the pyromaniac approach, which consists of burning everything to a cinder until there's nothing left but a pile of ashes and me with a happy smile and singed eyebrows. Fallout relies on your persistence, patience and ability to pick up useless crap everywhere you go.

That's right. Useless crap. The problem here is, what's useful and what isn't? I saw packs of cigarettes lying around and my first thought was 'Prisoners trade for cigarettes, why shouldn't post-nuke nutjobs?' so I grabbed a few packs. I grabbed cans of food, big knives, anything that could be used as a weapon, scavenged every single piece of armour I could find, and passed over the pressure cooker ("Wtf? What is this shit, 'Cooking Mama'? Where are the GUNS!") and railspikes, completely unaware that these very components can lead to some of the nicer weapons later on.



I SHOULD love this game. It's beautiful, graphics-wise. It's smooth, the gameplay can be immersive and gripping (except when you're zerged by six raiders because OOPS you trod on a tin can!), the voices are (mostly) well-done, the scripting is just fine and the dialogue is spot-on as far as I'm concerned. The VATS system is epic win.

But I just can't get into it. I've decided to give up on it for now. I much prefer the epic battles of WAR and the camaraderie of my allies. Plus, I'm MORE than happy to be labelled a squishy ranged DPS and not be able to stealth or anything else, because I have meatshie- allies to do that for me. I get to focus on mass destruction and saying cool stuff. AND I HAVE A FUCKING HORSE.

WAR CALLS!

Od.

"Are you doing something wicked?"

It is to sigh.

I told myself I wouldn't do this, for so many reasons, but here's the second chunk of Odwyn's story.

I can't believe I gave in to writing this bloody thing..

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Water pattered down onto the broad brim of Odwyn's hat.

He stood beneath a massive tree atop a mud-slicked hill, leaning on his staff and glaring out at the bad weather.
'You used to love the rain,' said his companion, sat against the tree trunk and wrapping a longbow in a well-used oilskin. His blonde hair and forest colours contrasted with the sorcerer's dark robes. Odwyn sighed, turning his one good eye on the ranger.
'It felt cleansing, years ago. Now it just makes me miserable.'
He huffed impatiently, striding over to the ranger and looking about.
'Where has she gotten to now?' he asked aloud, peering into the trees. His companion looked up from his task, and tilted his head to one side. The sorcerer held a hand over his eye and smiled.
~Ah, there you are. Come on back now, dear.~ he sent. A buzzing noise came into hearing from the woods behind the massive tree, and a large beetle swooped from the shadows. It flew across to the sorcerer, landing cautiously on the tip of his staff and buzzing its wings once or twice.
'Poor thing,' Odwyn said with a smile, 'you're soaked. Allow me.'
He focused his mind on the staff, causing several of the runes to glow faintly. The drops of moisture on his familiar's back turned slowly to steam, and it gave a contented buzz before hopping to his shoulder. The blonde ranger stood up, watching Odwyn carefully. Sean Greensun hadn't seen his friend for nearly four years, and had already noted the disturbing changes in his appearance and manner. For one, there was the eye. In their adventuring days Odwyn had possessed two sharp, darting black eyes that took in everything with an air of cold calculation. One remained, but as a dull, black orb that swung lazily onto whatever the sorcerer looked at. Sean had still to find out what happened to the other, which was covered by a ragged scrap of cloth completely out of keeping with Odwyn's meticulous dress sense.
'You're staring,' said the sorcerer, frowning.
'Sorry,' Sean replied with an embarassed smile, 'I can't help it. We haven't heard from you in so long. Now you're back, it's..' he trailed off.
'Different,' said the sorcerer, returning his friend's smile. 'I know,' he said, walking over to the trunk of the giant tree and leaning his staff against it. He dropped to his haunches and the blue beetle buzzed upward to rest on a branch hanging over the two travellers. The tree dominated the hill, great branches extending a good fifteen feet outward and providing thick cover from the rain. It stood at the edge of the forgotten forest that Sean called home.
The dark, verdant environment was well known throughout the region, both for its beauty and for the tales of its terrible guardians; a monstrous dragon from ancient times, who sent his ruthless agent of death out amongst the eaves and shadows to murder honest hunters while they gathered food for their families. The stories said that the last thing many travellers heard was the whoosh of an arrow and the mocking laughter of the golden-haired killer that stalked the woods.
Odwyn knew better. He had met Sean for the first time while travelling through the forest on his way to Icewind Dale, when the ranger had dropped from shadows at the edge of his campfire and offered to share a brace of rabbits he had caught. After talking for an age, it turned out that Sean merely kept away the worst of the poachers, and took for himself only what he needed. As to the tales of a dragon residing somewhere within the dark confines of the forest, Greensun had never been able to elaborate.
Odwyn sighed, leaning back against the tree beside the ranger.
'It is complicated, Sean. Once I get to Neverwinter, you will understand.'
'Neverwinter,' said the ranger with a frown, 'is a stinking, despicable hive of thugs.'
His companion blinked with his one eye, before cracking a smile reminiscent of the old Odwyn.
'Your love of cities hasn't grown any, then,' he said with a short laugh. 'Have you even set foot out of your forest since last I saw you?'
'Only when absolutely necessary.'
'You've become a hermit, Sean, skulking in your forest and grumbling over outsiders!'
'I might say the same of you,' Sean replied, unable to stop himself grinning at his friend, 'we haven't heard from you in what, four years?'
'Five,' Odwyn said, raising a hand to confirm it with his fingers.
'Unbelievable. Odwyn Stadt, the recluse. Odwyn "The Sorcerer That Never Shuts Up" Stadt, Daniel used to say.'
'Daniel? Hah, I haven't even thought of him in years,' said the sorcerer, rubbing at his chin with one gloved hand. 'Where is he now?'
'Oh, knifing people in the dark alleys of Waterdeep, no doubt. He always did love picking on spellcasters.'
'I remember,' said Odwyn, recalling some of the practical jokes the rogue had played on him in the past. He removed his hat, placing it on the ground to reveal his closely-shaved black hair. He sat back, drawing his knees up and folding his arms atop them. The rain continued around them, and Sean took the opportunity to set out a few small water skins with funnels set in their necks. The sorcerer watched Sean work, and reflected on what he instinctively thought of as 'the old days'.
Years ago, before he'd consulted the devil Khadys; before he'd lost his eye; before he'd had his heart broken; before he'd fallen in love, he had been a wandering sorcerer. Meeting up with the band of adventurers had been a huge event in his life. Sean, Nila the half-elven paladin, who Odwyn had despised on sight, Daniel Walker and.. her..
The sorcerer curled his lip in a sudden sneer and reached out for his staff, which thrummed gently in response. He shifted into a cross-legged position and laid the staff out across his lap.
'More meditation?' asked the ranger.
'Clairvoyance,' said Odwyn sharply, closing his eye and playing his hands over the runes of his staff like he was playing a musical instrument.
'I tire of this rain, so I'm searching for a quicker route to Neverwinter.'
'This is the fastest route,' said Sean with a frown, 'believe me, I know.'
'Yes, yes,' snapped the sorcerer, his bitter personality rising after the thoughts of his old flame, 'but your method is slow. Now let me concentrate.'
'Alright,' said Sean reproachfully, and moved off to stopper the waterskins.

Odwyn drew himself up, hands flitting across the staff's surface. His vision, dark within his closed eye, slowly began to change. A gentle light moved in on his peripheral vision, white turning grey, and the constant patter of the rain became visual: the grey light shifted, thinner streaks appearing in it. A darkened patch appeared at the height of his vision, rounding out and splitting until it became the leaves of the tree above him. The centre of his vision pulled away sharply, stretching along and down, taking on the verdant shade of the long grass that covered the hill and curving into smaller hillocks and mounds, with a sharp spattering of colour to represent the few flowers that grew nearby. Taking a long, deep breath, Odwyn slowly turned his head. The vision followed after a split-second delay. A frown crossed the sorcerer's features and he tightened his mental grip on the spell. He felt his hands come to a halt over two particular runes, and the vision's focus suddenly sharpened, bringing detail to the picture. He could see the tiny movements of raindrops hitting blades of grass, the dark speck in the sky that indicated the only bird foolish enough to brave the weather, and even the insects crawling over the leaves of the tree atop the hill a league from where he sat. He allowed himself a satisfied smile, and moved on to his task. The vision swept forward suddenly, hugging the tips of grass blades and skimming through the air like a low-flying falcon. He followed the dirt path that led away from the bottom of the hill, looping around and into a shallow valley. It passed tall trees, foraging creatures and travellers moving so slow as to be standing still. The dirt path solidified, became a paved road, marked by milestones and signs pointing to roads that branched away. There in the distance was the dark shadow of Neverwinter, and a bitter smile hovered on the sorcerer's face. He had located the destination at least. Now to find a faster mode of travel.The vision spun violently, snapping onto the road again with a focus and speed that would have sickened the hardiest of travellers. It sped along, back past the paved road, past the motionless pilgrims and roaming merchants, past the tall trees, and finally past the hill where Odwyn sat. He noted his own presence at the edge of the vision, an almost pitch-black space beneath the massive tree. He took no notice of the strange representation, instead speeding onward. The dirt path continued along a track lined with wildflowers, with the trees of the forest thinning out and becoming sparse. Rocks and boulders began to appear at the sides of the path, and Odwyn noted the looming presence of cliffs in the distance. The rain had stopped.
A great caravan train appeared, and the sorcerer called the vision to a sudden halt, swinging upward to focus on the lead wagon. A woman sat at the reins, dark blonde hair shot with streaks more gold than grey. Her well-worn travelling leathers and focused expression told the sorcerer all he needed to know. She was experienced, and most definitely in charge here. He swept his vision across the rest of the caravan as an afterthought. Children scampered between the wagons, frozen compared to the speed granted by Odwyn's Clairvoyance. A train of beasts followed on, between two heavier-looking, armoured wagons. A real caravan community, thought the sorcerer, sweeping his sight back to the lead wagon. He watched the caravan's leader as she rode, slowing his vision down to a more familiar pace. She watched the road, gaze dancing back and forth as they passed larger rocks and mounds, on the lookout for any possibility of ambush. He moved his vision closer still, until it hovered scant inches away from her face. She was not old, though her face bore a few laughter lines and possessed a thin, severe mouth. She had a proud bearing, intense blue eyes and, Odwyn noted, a vicious dagger strapped to her thigh. No stranger to violence, and utterly confident in her management of the convoy. Yes, this would make for fine transport.

'Odwyn? Odwyn, are you alright?' asked Sean, resting a gloved hand on the sorcerer's shoulder. Odwyn's one eye snapped open, and for a moment Sean didn't recognise what he saw there. Then a lazy smile crossed his friend's face, and the sorcerer nodded.
'Better than alright, Sean. A caravan train approaches.'
Sean stared for a second before turning to look out at the rain.
'I see nothing.'
'No, no. It won't be here for a few hours, but it will definitely enable us to reach Neverwinter sooner.'
The ranger frowned thoughtfully, and turned to indicate the light under the tree. He'd somehow found enough dry wood to start a fire. The scent of cooking meat reached the sorcerer's nose and his stomach rumbled with hunger. Odwyn hauled himself to his feet, moving over to the fire. Keke buzzed down to land on his back before scurrying up to his shoulder and clicking her mandibles as he reseated himself.
'Oh good, we were just getting hungry,' he said, eyeing the sizzling rabbit flesh with a smirk, 'it's just a shame that you still can't cook to save your life.'
Sean frowned, jabbing at the flames with a long stick.
'You should be thankful. If I wasn't here, what would you be eating tonight? Dirt, that's what,' he replied. Odwyn picked up a strip of the rabbit, tearing it in half and passing the larger piece to his familiar. The blue beetle buzzed up into the tree with her dinner.
'What an odd little beast,' said Sean. He sliced another strip of flesh from the fire and leaned back onto his haunches.
'You know, in all the years we travelled together, I never asked of her origins. Some day you'll have to tell me about it.'
The sorcerer finished his first piece and swallowed, resting his staff on his lap. He helped himself to another slice of rabbit.
'Well, we've got a few hours,' he said, 'what would you like to know?'

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Hope that wasn't too hard on the eyes! Right, I could blog about a whole bunch of stuff now, but I feel strangely dull, so I'm just going to carry on looking at lolcats and sketching.

TTFN!

Love, Odsox

"Like anything worth writing, it came inexplicably and without method."

Yeah, I'm never going to get tired of that quote. It's Kay Eiffel (character) from Stranger Than Fiction, number five on my Top Five All-Time Favourite Movies. Anyway, here's something I wrote today. It's D&D-oriented and details my Neverwinter Nights character's reasons for heading to the cold city and enrolling in the Academy there. LOOK OUT NON-NERDS!

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Odwyn tightened his grip on his staff, watching the rift open with one narrowed black eye. The swirling purple vortex grew into a tall oval shape, spilling tiny lights and a thin mist that
clung to the edges of the summoning circle, outlining the cylindrical confinement. The light reflected from his robe, highlighting the gilt silver edging against dark, red leather. The spell
had gone perfectly, as he'd expected; the small frown he wore merely a result of the theatrics insisted upon by the creature he'd decided to summon. He inspected the runes laid out around
the circle with a practiced eye. Not a single rune or sigil out of place, as usual. He looked up at the rift, which had begun to twist and now resembled a spiralling cloud of lights that seemed to be taking a more familiar shape. The cloud swept up suddenly, breaking from its spiral, and began to pour down, filling out a figure from the feet first like some expertly crafted hourglass pouring sand made from stars. Odwyn let a small, vain smile cross his lips and ran over the binding incantations in his mind, bringing his memory of the control and punishment spells to the fore. The purple light glowed faintly now, and an obviously female figure stood within it. Tendrils of a darker colour stretched out from the back of its bowed head, spreading out and becoming a long, thick mass of hair curled into ringlets of a style popular in Waterdeep. As the more intimate details of the figure's skin began to appear, a simple shift of fabric in purple so dark as to be almost black slipped into being, coiling slowly up and around the figure like a protective lover. Its face lifted to the air, and a narrow nose appeared above full, red lips curved in a smile. Two tiny points of light came into being on its face, expanding into softly glowing eyes of a solid, crystal white.
'Ah, Odwyn. So good to see you again,' purred the apparition, tucking a lock of purple hair behind its ear with a perfectly-manicured finger. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile, and she lowered her eyelashes, looking at the sorcerer coyly. He frowned again, and raised a hand, making a claw gesture.
'None of your games, Khadys, I haven't the time.'
The summoning made a pretty pout, folding her arms petulantly.
'But Odwyn, don't you enjoy our games? Why else would you summon me?'
The sorcerer sighed, and snapped his fingers. A clicking noise answered him from the darkness beneath a workbench. A huge blue beetle came scurrying across the tiled floor and leapt to his shoulder, wings buzzing furiously. The horned insect tilted its head back and forth, eyeing the captive woman. It inclined its head toward its master. The sorcerer smiled and ran a beringed finger gently over the beetle's carapace.
'I know she doesn't look like much, dear Keke, but she does have the answers we seek,' he said quietly, adding ~Watch her carefully. Mind her tricks,~ through his familiar's mental link. The apparition appeared put out by this display of affection, and casually allowed her shift to slip an inch or two down one shoulder. Her captor returned his attention to the being in the circle. Her purple skin reflected the light of Odwyn's candle-lit workroom in a distracting way, highlighting the smoothness of her skin and the gentle curves that trailed off beneath her shift. She flicked her head lightly, and the subtle glimmer of -
Odwyn yelped suddenly as Keke bit down on his ear, and shook the familiar free with a snarl. He raised his hand in a violent gesture, then realised what had happened.
~Thank you, Keke,~ he sent. The beetle settled back onto his shoulder and the sorcerer's scowl became a smile as he turned the punishment spell against his captive. The effect was instantaneous. Lightning crackled across her purple body, tearing an ear-splitting shriek from those full lips. The luxurious hair which draped across her shoulders paled to a matt white, becoming coarse, sharp and straight as it crept back from her forehead to reveal two dark horns. Her white eyes became an electric blue, glinting with malice. As the simple shift she wore fell away to reveal a more muscular, red-skinned body, far darker in tone than the one she had worn, Odwyn grinned in triumph, and spoke in tones of command.
'Khadys Tal'Ratha Orin'vesh'tak Y'lrahtep, I bind you by the runes of blood, the runes of fire, and the sigil of law.'
A darkness seemed to fall upon the room as the sorcerer spoke.
'My will is greater than yours, my faith is greater than yours and my power will forever be a sun to your mere spark.'
Odwyn loomed suddenly, the darkness rising behind him like a vengeful shadow.
'Answer my questions truthfully and without deceit, lest your being be torn asunder by my wrath and the runes which bind you here,' he finished, snapping his hand around in a lashing
gesture. The summoning's body went horribly rigid with this last motion and as another shriek split the air a pair of leathery, eldritch wings exploded from her back, convulsing madly. Odwyn reigned in his power, and watched the succubus with an impassioned black eye. The devil shuddered, and ran her black talons through the coarse hair atop her skull, her wings folding back into repose with only the occasional twitch.
'Ooh, you aren't playing around at all, are you,' she asked, batting her eyes at the sorcerer and licking her lips.
'No need to get hasty,' she added as Odwyn curled his hand into a claw once more, 'I'll tell you what you want to know.'
'About time,' he growled, tapping his staff against the tiled floor. He drew himself up to his full height, fixing his one eye on the devil in the circle.
'You know how much I despise resorting to such formality. Still, if you insist,' he continued, clearing his throat, 'Khadys Y'lrahtep, I charge you to tell me the whereabouts of -'
'Neverwinter,' interjected the succubus, causing Odwyn to blink and falter mid-sentence. The sorcerer narrowed his eye again, and tapped his staff against the floor. Khadys raised a hand
in supplication and tilted her hips, wearing a patient smile.
'I swear by the sigil of law that binds me to this place that the one whom you seek may be found in the city of Neverwinter, hidden from your sight but clear to mine.'
'How may I find her?' asked the sorceror, his fingers playing anxiously across the runes of his staff. The succubus' pointed teeth came into view with her smile. She dropped one hand to her hip and rested the other against her chest, closing her eyes and tilting her face downward.
'You will find her among the people of Neverwinter. She will reveal herself to you when the time is right.'
The gravitas in her voice made the sorcerer frown. He tugged at his beard thoughtfully, staring past the succubus at the map of Faerhun on the far wall. Neverwinter was a long way away,
he thought to himself, already thinking of ways to make the travelling spell simpler and more efficient. Perhaps he could enlist Khadys' aid the journey. The succubus had proved her
resourcefulness in the past, and there was always the possibility of a cold night, when her infernal warmth could help him pass the nights in comfort, if not -Keke wrenched at his ear again, buzzing furiously. Odwyn swore loudly as the familiar spun out of his way and levelled his staff at the summoning circle. As the first syllables of the punishment cantrip left his mouth, leaving tiny lacerations on his lips that bled down his chin, he faltered. Where the succubus had been, the woman he sought now stood, surrounded by the gently thrumming runes he had painted. She was tall, with curled, jaw-length hair of a deep, autumnal red. She wore scaled armour of silver and gold over a leather tunic and breeches of a darker red than her hair. A weighty hammer hung at her left hip while a thick tome marked with the sigil of Kossuth, the Lord of Flames, hung at her right, attached by a pitted metal chain. Her green eyes were filled with a sorrow that pierced the sorcerer's heart.
'Odwyn,' she said, her voice quiet and pained, 'why are you doing this? What has changed so much that you would hurt me this way?'
A shiver of sadness passed through him until Keke buzzed up to his face, looping around his head. So quickly his familiar reminded him that this was just another of Khadys' tricks, faithful
creature that she was. Odwyn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and tightening his grip on the rune-covered staff. He shook himself, and looked again at the image of his former lover.
She raised a hand to the barrier between them, but seemed to hesitate.
'Is this how she appears now?' the sorcerer asked, tilting his staff toward the circle.
'Odwyn, I don't know what you mean. Are you well?' asked the image, and the look of concern on its face finally snapped him back to his task. This could never be her. The staff blazed suddenly, and a coil of light extended around the circle, blades of blue energy extending from the band of light.
'Drop the charade now, Khadys. I grow tired of it, and you would do well to test my patience no longer.' The blades sliced into the cylindrical prison, and a sudden sneer appeared on the
face of the red-haired woman.
'Fine, fine,' came the voice of the succubus, and the scaled armour melted away, revealing Khadys' naked red form once again.
'You have grown serious, Odwyn. It doesn't suit you,' said the devil, a disappointed frown crossing her face for a scant moment.
'I have told you what you wish to know, now unless you want to play, let me go. I have other souls to enrapture,' she added with a smile, her pointed tongue tracing her upper lip. The sorcerer frowned once more as he ceased his spell, the blue blades dissipating like fine mist. The succubus flexed her wings within the confines of the summoning circle, anticipation apparent on her face. Odwyn nodded, and began the banishment spell. He spoke in a guttural language, his eye closed in concentration. Keke flitted around the circle, watching the devil with her multifaceted eyes. The runes around the circle slowly began to smoke and disappear, each one making a little fut! sound as it vanished. Before long, the stern, solid sigil of law was all that remained holding the succubus in place. As Odwyn began the final incantation it broke down into several squares, each breaking into smaller squares until they were gone from sight. The purple rift tore into being behind her and Khadys threw her captor one last glance as she stepped into it, curving her lips in a teasing smile.
'Oh, and Odwyn?'
The sorcerer looked up carefully, his staff set in an offensive position, ready to counter any tricks the succubus might decide to play.
'What?' he asked acidly, preparing a lightning bolt.
Khadys fixed him with her cruel blue eyes.
'She still loves you.'
The rift snapped closed, vanishing from sight as the bolt of elemental force crashed into the brick wall where it had been. The sorcerer heaved a breath, relaxing his grip on the staff. Keke
buzzed about his head curiously, before swooping around and diving onto her perch in the bookcase. She watched her master, clicking to herself as she settled into the elven skull that
served as her nest. Odwyn straightened up, sending his staff to its hook in the darkest corner of the room. He contemplated clearing the few singe marks from the floor and repairing the
damage to his far wall, but could not tear his thoughts from the journey that lay ahead. He moved to his desk, and sat down in the high-backed wooden chair. The clawed feet of the seat
trotted toward the desk until he was in a comfortable position. As the sorcerer pored over the piles of parchment and paper scattered over his desk, he snapped his fingers idly. Keke
buzzed across the room to alight on his shoulder. Odwyn tilted his head slightly, frowning in concentration.
'Hm? We're going to Neverwinter, my dear,' he said, one finger tracing the outline of a teleportation spell in a great blue tome. The beetle crept down his arm, hopping onto the book and angling its head up at its master. The one-eyed sorcerer blinked, then a satisfied smile stole onto his face.
'To find my true love, of course,' he said with a chuckle.
Keke's wings buzzed shortly. Odwyn lowered one beringed hand to the table, relishing the tickling sensation as his familiar stepped onto his palm. He ran a finger across her wing casing with a smile and lifted her back onto his shoulder. As he spread a scroll out onto the desk, weighing it down with two small metal figurines resembling toy soldiers, the beetle buzzed at him once more.
'Oh,' said the sorcerer, a contented gleam coming into his eye, 'We're going to kill her.'

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There you go, that wasn't so difficult now, was it?

Thanks for taking the time to read through that jumble of fiction, I hope it didn't take up too much of your time. :) There were a few songs I listened to during the writing, I may as well list 'em.

Billy Talent - The Ex
Billy Talent - Line & Sinker
Paramore - Misery Business
Porcupine Tree - What Happens Now?
Ivy - Worry About You
Offspring - Gone Away

I listened to a few more of course, it didn't take me twenty minutes to throw this together. xD

Oh, as a side note, isn't it annoying as HELL when you're in the loo and some bastard just shoves on the door without even looking at the vacancy bar? I've never left a door unlocked, but it still pisses me off that these idiots just attempt to barge in without even checking the occupied/vacant bar.

Love, Odsox.