Suffering, The

The Suffering

A thread begun by Razas, a character on the Earthen Ring server, and posted on the Blizzard Earthen Ring Forums

((Another little thing that I thought might pique all yours interest. Write a scene about your character that has them go through intense suffering or pain. Doesn't have to be physical. Could be mental, or emotional. They could suffer alone. Are they willingly suffering? Why are they suffering? Be creative. Think. Get inside the mind of your character. and Enjoy the process. Here's one of mine.))

=The Suffering of Razas=

"BWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" roared the corpse as a whip cracked across it's back. "Again, again! HAHAHAHAHAHA.... Oh, it tickles! Tickles!" The human growled angrily at the corpse. His prisoner was not supposed to be LAUGHING at him. Of course, he hadn't seen much outside of Stormwind. He'd only taken the guard position recently, and had seen this.... thing swimming in the Canals, nearly buck naked, except for his shorts. Disgusting.

"Awww... cmon, one more. For the gipper? Happy happy cow moo death pie?" rambled the corpse. The guard had knocked out the corpse, odd how that sounded, he didn't really think you could knock out corpses, and dragged him to the land.

Once there, he put him into cuffs and chains, and whipped him forward to toss the abomination in the Stockades. But all he did was laugh! Infernal creature. He cracked the whip again, this time peeling off a bit of flesh from the side of the cheek. The horrible corpse cackled again, and fell down, sides heaving has it laughed and laughed.

"Tickles! Like a feather! Hee hee! You need more pie in your diet, silly human. For you cannot hurt a dwarf like that! Whar's my beer, anyway?"

Now the thing was thinking he was a dwarf? The creature was clearly mindless, or insane. The guard was thinking insane, as he went to kick the creature hard in the side. "You're no bloody dwarf, idiot. You're a freak of nature! You're dead!" He went to kick the crazy dead thing in the head, but he rolled away, still laughing hard.

"'ey now, get back here!" The guard chased after the rolling undead, chains whipping around as the guard tried to get a handle on the dead man. They were getting close to the water now...

A chain looped around the guards leg, and Razas PULLED hard, getting the guard on the ground. Razas then looped the chain again around the leg of the guard, and dove for the water, giggling insanely. "Swim time, time to swim, exercise is good for a growing boy, uh huh, yep yep, tickling is done, been 30 minutes since I last ate, I can have a snack now... yep... "

The guard screamed in terror as the weight of the chains and the dead man weighed him down in the water, as well as his own heavy armor. Soon, he was fully submerged trying is damndest to get to air, he needed air! Claws were ripping into his flesh, between the links of armor, a glimpse of horrid pale yellow eyes and a vision of teeth that would make the coral sharks of Dustwallow marsh green with envy....

That morning, two boys unpacked their fishing gear and bait, and cast their lines, idly chatting, until one spotted a school of tiny fish nibbling at something floating in the water.

"Oo, a big fish is gonna be in there, I just know it, Tommy!" "Balderdash!" "Tommy, you don't even know what that means, you just say it cause your Dad says it." "Balderdash!"

Tommy's friend sighed and cast his line, and sure enough, something heavy wieghed down his pole. "See, I told ya, I got one Tommy!" The boy reeled in quickly and was rewarded with.... a half eaten head, flesh torn away at the cheeks, the soft flesh of the eyes eaten away, jaw hanging open in a wide smile of death, tongue lolling out. The neck still dripped a mixture of blood and water. Tommy and his friend screamed, and dropped the head back in the water, throwing away their fishing poles and running for their parents home, swearing not to fish in the canals ever again....

Underneath the canals, near the sewer grate, a pair of pale yellow eyes opened, and carressed a floating arm, swollen from water. The creature took a bite, and chewed noisily in the water, grinning the entire time. "Turn the other cheek. You'll be rewarded in the after-life...." The dead thing roared with laughter, and continued on his feast....

=The Suffering of Ptesanwi=

((Aiighty, I'll bite :) I donno about intense pain, but meh, I think it is the general idea you were asking for. Oh...and it may be a bit hard to understand unless you have met Ptes IC :/))

Golden eyes graced over the blue-green waters of the ocean; the soft roar of the breaking waves echoing off the walls of the cliffs off behind her location lulled her a bit, and for a moment her chin dropped against her chest. A voice in the distance snapped her awake, however, and head turned towards the little fishing village of Shadow Prey. Ptesan-Wi couldnt tell who had called out, but whoever it was, it was quiet once more. With a soft sigh, she brought the flask to her lips and downed another mouthful of the contents with a wince.

The footfalls were almost silent, yet one of her ears flitted up and turned in the direction they came. The huntress could hear the steps hesitate for a moment, then continue forward until they halted at her side. She didnt need to look to know who it was; the earthen scent of the wilds graces this individual, and the warm, familiar odor of her mother was one she knew by heart. The slight creak of old joints and a groan announced that she was now sitting at her side. And, for a while, they sat together in silence, the alabaster femme still looking out over the water.

"You come here every yearat this time." The rough, growl of a voice spoke out and broke the silence, rumbling in the dialect Ptesan-Wi understood the easiest. "Why, my daughter?" The huntress lifted the flask once more, her ears splaying back as she swallowed.

"Ju not remembah, Mothah?" The one at her side shook her head slightly, and the huntress chuckled. "It be tha day ju led meh erelef meh in his care." Her right hand was settled on the grave at her side, and slowly her fingers gripped the dirt searchingly. Her mother opened her muzzle, then closed it thoughtfully as Ptesan looked her over with a sad smile. "Ah miss 'im, Mothah. He was gud ta meh." The dark femme nodded slowly, looking over her daughter with eyes that matched in golden tone.

"I know you do, m'dear." Nose quivered slightly, and mouth pulled into a slight grimace. "You have been drinking again." Ptes nodded and shrugged, and the worg shook her head and tsked. "You drink too much. One day, you will have to face these feelings without such a crutch." Ptesan-Wi lifted a brow and glanced at the one she had called her parent for so long.

"Ju want some?"

"...Aye." The huntress chuckled as she poured some of the contents into a cupped hand and let the black worg lap it up with a snort. "Bloody hell! This is what you drink all day?" Splyttfang shook her head and coughed a bit.

"Ah do what ah must, Mothah." Ptesan-Wi looked back to the grave at her side, and bit her lip. "Fathah woulda yelled too, but ah tink he fo'give meh."

Ptesan-Wi had known two mothersthe nameless cow who brought her into the world, and the dark worg that had taken her in when her own people had forsaken her. She remembered little of her blood mother except the words that had been screamed at her on the night of her death; liar...slanderer...

Ptesan-Wi only had known one father, however. And in her mind, she could still see him sitting by the fire, his long tusks reflecting the firelight as he hummed some nameless song to her as she watched his skinning knife do its work from his gnarled hand. The way he would pull a strand or two of his long, grey hair hack over a long ear before reaching out to pat her head lovingly. The way he would sit at her bedside when the dark faces of her past attacked her dreams, and stroke her hand till her tears ceased and sleep came once more.

...She could still see him lying face down in the pool of crimson as the Grimtotem standing over him searched his pockets.

With a soft whimper, her eyes closed, and once more the flask was brought into view. The old ache had never eased, and the scene that replayed in her head had yet to fade. It was flayed into her, like the scars on her back that could still be seen through her white fur. It had been five years, but there would forever be an echo of her loss.

A slight nudge was felt against her arm, and she turned to look at her mothers worried face.

"We should get back. Your bull will be wondering where you are at." Ptesan-Wi shrugged slightly.

"Jus' ah lil longah," the huntress mumbled. Her mouth trembled slightly, but not another sound came from her. With a huff, Ptesan-Wi curled against the grave, her eyes still out towards the seathe remains of her beloved father occupying the ground below them.