01-03-2019, 03:08 AM
[align=center][table]
thes code
a
a
sheogorath
[b]and i say to myself, what a wonderful world
Flintlock had set him by a road. One that was, apparently, commonly traveled. Flintlock didn’t want him near their home, and he could understand why. He had hurt them. The man had no memory of his actions, but the residents of Flintlock certainly did. Sheogorath stared down at his lap, a dreary light filling his eyes. He deserved it. Deserved to be outcast. Tossed out.They had left him some supplies but Sheogorath was too weak to look through them.. Too weak to change out of his soiled clothing. Too weak to change his bandages, his only defense against lethal infection. Every breath was hard, every flinch, every gesture, agonizing. At least they had put him in a wheelchair. Instead of laying in the dirt, he was sitting, slumped over, in a fold-able wheelchair. One small gesture of kindness that he didn’t deserve.
Sheogorath did attempt to eat at one point. He pulled at the backpack slung around his wheelchair that contained the supplies. But it was too heavy for him. He dropped it, and due to his broken ribs, was incapable of reaching down to retrieve it. The cold mountain air lashed against his clothing, and the man couldn’t stop shivering. He wanted to cry out with the discomfort, but he couldn’t speak. He could only feel the tears that he wept.
Rustling in the bushes nearby. Was it some wild animal, come to end his suffering? A wolf? A bear? He had no defense against them. They’d tear him apart, eat him alive. Fear swelled within the man’s pounding heart as he waited for the inevitable. But instead of some ferocious predator, a young woman emerged. The first thing he noticed was the snow white rabbit in her arms. It had a harness, a leash.
“Hey.†The woman greeted awkwardly. “I’m Emma and I’m...I thought you would appreciate some help.†As she got closer, Sheogorath felt himself tense. He was vulnerable, and this woman looked nice, but in his state, he was entirely defenseless. Even the kindest of people were threats. But perhaps if she decided to come up and stab him, he would deserve it. And so much more. Sheogorath didn’t have the strength to respond.
He didn’t know what to do when Emma placed the alabaster furred bunny into his lap, and tied the leash around his wrist. Weakly, he raised his other hand, and placed it atop of the young rabbit, that sniffed at him curiously with a twitching nose. The soft fur was soothing, the warmth of the animal’s body relaxing. Sheogorath rubbed his fingers across the animal, and felt his figure loosen.
“I snuck her away. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you earlier.†Emma spoke softly. She reached into the bag he had dropped to the ground earlier, and pulled out a pouch of dried meat. “Are you hungry?†Sheogorath shook his head. He didn’t have the will to eat. “Well you’ve got to be thirsty. And you need to drink.†The woman pulled a bottle of water from the bag next, twisted open the cap, and lifted it to his chapped lips. Sheogorath didn’t drink at first. It ran down his chin when Emma tilted the bottle. But she was trying to offer him a kindness, and he didn’t want to make her feel bad for that. So he drank. The woman smiled gently.
“You must be cold.†Emma commented as he finished off the bottle. But then her eyes strayed to his bandages, and she noted their dirtiness. “Bandages need to be changed first, though.†So, the woman changed his bandages. And he still didn’t have the strength to speak. Sheogorath clung to the rabbit, already growing attached to the sense of security it offered him. A folded blanket was removed from the backpack, and draped over his battered figure. The bunny in his lap didn’t seem to mind as it was hidden away from the world.
Something sounded off with the next brush of the wind. The sound of hooves. Of wheels turning. Emma and Sheogorath glanced toward the road, though a curve through the woodland made it difficult to see very far. What they finally did see was worrying, to say the least. Two heavyset steeds, pulling a wooden wagon. But the back wasn’t filled with merchant’s goods. It was a cage, probably iron. Finally, after hours of silence, Sheogorath found the strength to speak. The man turned to Emma to say one, single word.
[b]“Run.â€Â
And she did. Sheogorath was glad.
The wagon pulled up beside him. The horses pulled to a stop. Three men jumped from the back in an instant, their sharp eyes looking him over. Calculating. Analyzing his every detail.
“This one’s no good. He’s in a wheelchair. How the hell did you even get down here? Must have had someone with him. John, check the area.†A brown haired man with a thick beard spoke first. John, Sheogorath supposed, as he was the only one who reacted, turned toward the woods behind Sheogorath, and began to climb the rocky slope, black hair tugged by a rough breeze. “You’re lucky.†The first man was speaking again. “We was looking for someone strong. But you look pretty weak to me, so I guess we’ll just leave ya to die instead.â€Â
Sheogorath didn’t object.
But then the third male, an older figure, with grey hair and a short mustache, drifted closer with cold eyes that sparked with perceptive recognition.
“The great Sheogorath. Heh.†The grey haired figure spoke, before turning back to the first male. “Looks like we got ourselves a ransom, Clide! This fellow’s a pretty high ranking official from the Badlands.â€Â
Newly named Clide let his face shift with a wicked grin. The brown haired male drew closer, raising a hand to Sheogorath’s chin, lifting his face to peer at it more closely.
“Ya know, Matt? You’re right! That is Sheogorath!†Clide laughed.
By that time, John had returned, a bit out of breath.
“Couldn’t find no one, Boss.†The figure huffed. Clide and Matt kept their attention on their newfound prey.
“No matter, we have ourselves a prize.†Matt patted the side of Sheogorath’s face before Clide spoke up.
“John, put him in the back.†John, Sheogorath realized, seemed to be the resident strong man. Well built. Well toned. The other two men unlocked the cage, and pulled the heavy door away from the frame. John plucked Sheogorath, including his wheelchair, from the earth with apparent ease, but practically tossed both him and the chair into the cage. Sheogorath spilled out of the chair and onto the wood of the wagon, wincing as his cheek was splintered. But he managed to cling to the rabbit, to prevent her from harm. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hide her from the bandits, or whatever they were, when the blanket was ripped away.
“Awww, he’s got a rabbit. How cute.†Matt spoke with venom, reaching into the cage, obviously intent on tearing the animal away. Sheogorath hugged it protectively to his chest. He had already thought up a name for her. Marshmallow. And he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt the bunny without a fight.
“No. Leave it.†That was Clide’s voice. Darker. Deeper. “It’ll keep him in line. Won’t it, boy?†Clide stared into the cage at Sheogorath, “Because if you try any funny business, we’ll kill it. Understand?â€Â
Sheogorath lowered his head with a nod. He wouldn’t speak. He couldn’t. The effort of telling Emma to flee had been enough for one day. He was glad the kind woman hadn’t been caught.
“Let’s change course. To the Badlands. We’ll ransom the boy.†Clide spoke out again. The three men climbed back into the wagon, and with a whip of the reigns, they were on their way. The only thing to remind the world of Sheogorath’s former presence, was the bag of discarded supplies on the side of the road.
[align=center]
and i see fire, blood in the breeze
[sup]AND I HOPE THAT YOU'LL REMEMBER ME