On the rolling hills of Hillsbrad, one could smell the pine from the nearby forests come on the evening winds. Gnolls snorted and yelped at each other, snarling over the great mushrooms that grew from rich soil around the plantation. The creatures did not yet notice the figure, biding her time as she closed the distance. Each of her footsteps caused the grass to rustle, as did the accompanying winds. She stopped short of a gate before one of the gnolls picked up her scent and growled in both hunger and warning. The woman stared back hollowly, even as others joined in to size up the tresspasser. They turned to bicker, nip and pick at each other over who might have claim over the first cleave, first taste of fresh flesh.
The woman's hands spread wide in front of her, as if welcoming rain. Head bent low, her voice was a soft hum of strange mutters. The gnolls turned their snouts upward as a portion of the skies above seemed to invert into a great darkness, a screaming meteor of green flame hurtling down to burn the creatures where they stood. The chaos gave birth to a behemoth of stone and felfire, it's bellows echoing across the hills. With fist and foot, the Infernal pummeled it's way through the dog-men easily, like smashing toothpicks with a great fiery mallet. It's controller crept over the old fence carefully, taking little notice of the demon nor the destruction it wreaked for the matter of seconds it was set free upon the place. It was quick death however, and the chaos was soon overcome by the same unearthly quiet that the stead dwelt in. The Infernal now stood still, awaiting it's next command.
The old manor that stood was smaller than it must have been, it's remains charred beyond recognition. Vines wrapped around the fences and blanketed the long dead garden, the only real sign of life the mushrooms that were thriving on the soil. The place was familiar, on the edge of memory, like most things that might happen across her mind. The metal creak of the sign post near her caught her attention, the small bronze plate hanging from a chain on it's post. It was a flicker of color in the dreary ruin, and her fingers were quick to touch the cold surface, tracing the engraved "H" set into the battered sign. Annaliese let out a soft gasp as the sign broke from it's watch, and thumped to the earth. She stared down at the gleaming bronze piece for a moment longer. Her knees would not obey the command to kneel and pick it up.
Everything you touch turns to ash anyway. Let it alone, she told herself, the knowledge of this place slowly creeping inside of her. Looking back up to the old house, she let out a whimper at the sight of it. It was on fire. Again. The curls of flame raised up to the sky, or rather, the ghost of them, relivened in her eyes. The wraiths of horses, forever caught in the horror of the moment, ran as fast as their legs could carry them, far from the burning manor. And then…came the screams. The twin screams of children, colliding in a chorus of fear and agony. The woman curled to her feet, clapping her hands to her ears, trying to shut out the sound she knew.
"..no…no…no…" she could only whimper, breathing hard. "Not this…oh…oh gods…"
The ground quaked, searing footsteps pounding toward it's "master"---the Infernal had broken free of it's control. A fiery appendage rammed into her chest, and sent the warlock sliding across the soil, leaving a path through the twisted vines. Stunned, Annaliese reeled from the battering, her body refusing to comply with action.
Stupid girl! You'll get us killed with your moaning…WAKE UP!!
The voice screamed through her head, hers…but not hers. Her hands were ripped from her sides as they shot in front of her, shadow bolt after shadow bolt slamming into the demon. The fel fire was but a sting on her skin---there were worse pains now. In moments, the Infernal crumbled into the decrepit garden, as if a child had toppled over rapidly cooling blocks. Annaliese stood shaking, heaving breaths as she looked upon the wreckage. Weak, she fell to the soil, her mind now quiet, her thoughts her own. Her chest was tight, aching from where the Infernal hit her, actually *ached*, this sensation of pain was new--it flooded her. A small smile curled at her lips, feeling this small torment. Something was better than nothing. Annaliese looked at her hands then, the hands that shot forward of their own will--Anna certainly had not been ready to attack. She bent each finger, one at a time, ensuring that the action was hers. Looking up, the land was quiet again, no ghostly images flooding her vision. Dragging herself away from the scene, she wrapped her arms around herself at this aching pain, and stumbled over the hillside like a drunken figure in the distance. The need for soul shards, was unbelievably strong
And the need, to find Knath D'Mort.
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