Ice Princess of Bloodstone (short)

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Grunelda
Sojourner
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Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 5:01 am

Ice Princess of Bloodstone (short)

Postby Grunelda » Sat Jan 29, 2005 7:24 pm

Grunelda stood in the basin of the burned out pit that was once the orphanage of the mighty Keep of Bloodstone.

Since Arilins visit, and her untimely death Grunelda had seemed rooted to the spot. Lost in thought. Lost in trying to find some kind of emotional release for the death of her daughter at her own hands. But after 11 days of standing, unmoving - without eating, drinking sleeping or even the rise and fall of a shallow breath, Grunelda could not find any feelings other than a cold malevolence deep in her being.

As if time finally started flowing around her once more after a long and improbably stop, the frail looking human turned ever so slightly and looked out over the vast wasteland that was Bloodstone. Grunelda certainly did not feel confined by the restraint of time as she might have when she was but a emphemral mortal. Yet this view of Bloodstone seemed to come all to soon to the realms. Most of her living time on Faerun had been spent in this city Kingdom. Strong and vibrant, it was a citadel of both chaos and order. Where politics were often played out in poisonings and murder. Where the strong grew stronger on the backs of the weak. In Grunelda's experience, it was the enviroment that nutured success, intelligence and survivability. Those that did not rise, simply fell and disappeared from the ebb and tide of life. Grunelda was once, long ago a hardened survivor of Bloodstones perils and had risen to the ranks of the wealthy and elite. Some even said she was a ruthless Princess of Bloodstone, ruling from the shadows of time.

But all things end. And so did mighty Bloodstone.

Razed to a cinder by godly flame. Only the strongest of foundations were still visible. Smoldering still, years after the mayhem that took the cities life it resemebled a burning, black corpse. Nothing in the city stood taller than a young tree's hieght. If a tree still stood. The living had long ago left the landscape of ash and soot, for life always seeks life in the end.

Grunelda simply stood at it center, neither comforted or aware of her surroundings. No emotional reaction could be felt, or conjured. Only a fierce maelstrom of coldness filled her being. No warmth from her soul remained, as her soul had been given over to ancient dark forces.

No fear crept into her cold heart as a young waif extended her hand to touch the hem of Grunelda's silk and linen gown.

The female child, dirty and filthy beyond recognition was starving and desperate. "M'Lady give one some food!" it pleaded into the trailing edge of the gown. The stench of decay and the fumes of pyres clouding the smell of Grunelda's own physical decay.

And then, Grunelda felt the crystal clarity of purpose. Purpose that could only be linked to those feelings that she had traded away for immortality. Her heart drew the cold air around the pair inward, solidifying it in the magical core of her undead life. It was neither hate nor love that she felt at the sight of the young child. But a sense that the life in the child did not belong.

Did not belong in the ruins of Bloodstone, did not belong in the prescence of Grunelda, necromancer in life - Lich in death. Life did not belong.

Turning her head ever so slowly, lost in the timeline of those that do not fear the ravages of time. Grunelda turned her head to glare at the child. Instantly her cold being grew denser, pulled in the cold - the light and gravity of the world. Before releasing it as a massive magical torrent of freezing energy, directed a the filthy living thing.

The child had no time to let out a whimper or scream as Grunelda's cold being enveloped her. Encasing her in the coldness of the after life. A thin sheen of ice clung to the child as if she had been frozen from the inside out. Tiny fingernails that the child had once attempted to clean, were cracked and splitting from the cold. Small green eyes were frozen in terror, the icy casing accross thier sightless surface giving one the sense she might be alive.

"You are no more.", whispered Grunelda before striking out with a gnarled and bony hand. Shattering the icy casing around the child and with it the remains of the child. Scattering accross the pit, shards of the child made the sound of glass breaking on marble.

Speaking to no one in particular, Grunelda hissed "Let the cleansing of Bloodstone begin with the burning touch of cold."

"I shall be Princess yet again!", as the power of purpose filled her being. "Princess of the Dead, Princess of Ice which my minions shall feel condense thier souls and steal thier lives!"

Turning sharply on her heals she left to cleanse the life from her once beloved Bloodstone... and beyond.

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