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 Posted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 11:10 am
 Mosenth was still in the tomb when the mummy returned.
He had just picked up the book and stashed it away when her hoof falls told him of something drawing close. Something very light, as he could barely hear the sounds they made. But it was kicking rocks and insects out of the way, so that helped Mosenth to prepare for what was coming towards him. The air was blowing into the opened door, bringing with it the dry smell of shriveled skin.
The mummy returned.
There was nothing else that smell could mean. No living flesh could ever smell so dry. Just the scent of it made his throat clench in thirst. Did the dead still require satisfaction for dry throats? With no moisture in the mummy's body, it must be hell to speak. He hoped it didn't require a translator. He wasn't in the mood to life his days as a beaten around slave as the mummy's way of getting its desires known.
Provided it didn't kill him on the spot.
Knowing his eyes wouldn't hide him, Mosenth waited in the middle of the first room, keeping his side with the bulging book facing the darkness of the rest of the tomb.
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Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2013 8:46 pm
 Nefertari knew her tomb had been disturbed before she even entered it. It was no surprise to her, though it didn't mean she need be happy about it. It was her own fault for leaving it wide open after she left, too eager to check out the new world she had awoken in.
Regardless...It was rude to walk uninvited into someone's final resting place. Like walking into their living area and touching their things while the owner slept just feet away. No respect. Human or Star. And judging by the tracks outside the doorway, this one was a Star. And had been the only tracks to grace the doorway in a long time. Strange. She guessed, since the doorway was wide open, most raiders figured the tomb was already looted and continued on to better prospects. Why waste time searching a likely empty tomb for scraps when you could find a fully intact one?
Quietly, as a dried out corpse will, Nefertari stalked silently into the gloom of the tomb. Her tomb, as destroyed as it was. It was still hers. Not a scrap of her jewels remained. Not a bead sized chunk of her gold left. But it was still hers and he had no right. No right!
"If you came to rob me," she began, speaking in her dried out voice, her eyes glowing brighter than his, "you are too late. So if you don't wish to be covered in more red markings, I would leave. Right. Now." At the last two words, she stepped closer, inching her neck out and spitting out the words. If she had saliva to spit, that is.
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Posted: Mon Mar 25, 2013 8:42 pm
Knowing it was best to keep silent, Mosenth's body barely quivered as the mummy moved closer. It was a skill he had picked up early in his life. No matter how afraid you might feel, never show it. Or you risked opening yourself up to the enemy too much. It was especially important with this one, it having the skill to intimidate him so easily. One couldn't be sure if the magic that brought it to life had also given it great power.
Whether it was a he or she Mosenth couldn't be sure. The body was so dry as to be that of anyone. And the voice, when it spoke, was so scratchy it could have been either masculine or feminine before death. The anger, as well, could be either gender. The stallion had grown up learning not to underestimate either sex. A mare could be just as dangerous as a stallion. Just as angry. Just as vengeful. Perhaps more so, depending on the herd she had grown up in. In general, in his trials, if one sex was dominate over the other, it was stallion over mare more often than the other way around.
All Mosenth allowed himself to do was blink as the undead inched closer to spit the words back at him. That was predictable, but no less scary knowing its wishes of him.
What could he say to make it accept his presence here? There were no clues whatsoever who this mummy had been. Except for maybe...
Yellow gaze narrowing, Mosenth's pupils lowered to the creature's chin. Hadn't he read about this somewhere? Of course. That was only worn by royalty. And not just any royalty. The Kings. The Emperors. The Leaders. Or whatever the devil they were called in this mummy's civilization.
He almost smiled, how easy this would be.
"Your Majesty," he bowed, hoping this would appeal to the beast. It usually did with royalty. How vain they were.
"I ask you, don't cast me out of your presence so quickly. I am your servant."
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Posted: Thu Mar 28, 2013 7:58 pm
Nefertari had to admit. She was a little stunned at the show the stallion put on. In his place most would have retired to the back wall as far away from her as possible. She had to admit, even she would have. She had seen her own reflection in the lakes and rivers she had passed on her travels. The glowing red eyes. The flaking, dried body covered in gashes and soiled bandages. She was a sight from a scary story told around the campfire. Or the creature of the darkness to scare foals from wandering too far. There had even been that dead stallion she had intimidated. One of her own undead kind.
Yet this one didn't move. Didn't even seem to tremble. At least not what was in view from the light of their glowing eyes. His knees could be knocking together silently for all she knew. She was not looking down. She wouldn't take her eyes off him while he stood suspiciously in her tomb with a saddlebag on his back.
It was thus that the mare snorted, backing up a few steps to look him over. Though he had horns she had never seen before, he certainly wasn't an Algeidi. Or if he had Algeidi blood, it was very, very faint. But of this she doubted. He just didn't have the look about him.
Whatever he was, he was strange. In behavior and appearance. Smaller than her and appearing to be of the same weight even in her undead form, he intrigued her nonetheless. She had not met someone who was so outwardly unaffected by her misfortune.
Not since Morrigan, anyway.
Nefertari moved as if she was going to circle him, but stopped after a few steps. She continued to size him up while he stood there quietly, watching her. Finally, she said, "My servant? You do not seem neither dead nor familiar to me. Or is it you wish to offer yourself to me? How strange. What exactly could you offer me?"
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Posted: Mon Apr 01, 2013 2:09 pm
Mosenth knew he was treading on thin ice that was getting thinner by the second. He had to make his offer quickly and as convincingly as possible if he was going to survive the encounter. He could see the undead getting more and more impatient with him, the reds of her eyes glowing brighter and brighter.
Always the optimist, the Acturus stallion couldn't help seeing this as an advantage. At least he would always know when was the good time to approach her from now on.
Here he gave another bow. It couldn't hurt.
"Someone such as yourself must always have a personal servant. I am well versed in different languages, both written and spoken. And, though I may be small, you would find me useful if talents such as cunning and thievery is required."
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Posted: Mon Apr 01, 2013 2:19 pm
It couldn't be said whether she was pleased or not. Nefertari, truthfully, felt neither. While he was right about her needing a servant of her own, she wasn't just going to trust a strange stallion who had previously broke into her tomb. To steal her treasures, no doubt. That her tomb had been opened long before he even arrived here was beyond the point.
"Alright," was her response. Lifting her head, she regarded him with slight curiosity, wondering how much help this stallion would be. Or if he would just hinder her. She didn't have to think about it to know Morrigan wouldn't be happy with the arrangement, but that didn't matter. Morrigan would have to deal. Males were not a danger to Nefertari, so why should she fear to have one around her? If this one proved to be as dishonest as he looked, she would simply kill him. Being undead meant she didn't sleep.
Just like being dried didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.
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