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Quenching the Madame's thirst (Artifact Quest)

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@King


THE MADAME LINDA LINDA3b74111f32beabd91a28955f1f9fd478.png


There was the woman, standing, waiting patiently for people that were unsure to come. If this was another time, another life then those people, her loyal subordinates, all would have come running to her, their leader and master, with their adorable tails wagging in joy. But not now, not here, not ever.

Was it wrong then for her to expect that much from them? Even after all these years that she had disappeared? They all thought she was dead but now the truth has come to light and she had survived Shawnee. She lived but at what cost? The cartel was gone, the Mistress dead forever. Now she’s living a new name, a new life and yet here she is asking help for the friends and family she had once left. Woe the poor woman.

But somewhere in this desert lies that forbidden item that the woman desired. She would stoop low even to an unimaginable level, so long as she can claim that object as her own. It was, of course, an artifact whose myths and stories are bigger than legends. The woman who calls herself the Madame, she will claim for herself. No matter the cost.

For now, however, the woman lies in wait, the sandy breeze slowly blasting her figure with its coarse particles. Yet her eyes were ever focused on the horizon. Watching. Waiting. Until the cherished moment has arrived.

But not yet. Not now. Soon.

Perhaps.

@Rin @vielle

Edited by Thotification

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KHAKINA "KHAKI" KHATUN

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The little girl had heard the call but has no real reason to believe it. She was dubious of the message and truth be told such things were subject   for suspicion. All the little girl remembered was that one day, there came a note telling her to come to the Velhetian desert and signed with the name Mistress. The little girl had no idea where it came from nor how it got inside her home but one thing is clear- that woman is calling for her, most likely asking for help.

However, the little girl did not believe such a ludicrous thing at first. But as the days past, her mind slowly changed. It was such a stupid thing but the girl was struck with nostalgia. On the days that came by, the memories of that certain woman resurfaced from the deep confines of her little mind. Like a flood they all gushed forth into her very being, filling her very soul with every single memory that she and that woman shared. It had even brought her to tears. Those nights were long and hard for her, as her tiny figure shivered under the covers, eyes red and raw from all that sobbing and crying. There was the pain of course, mostly because the woman had kept her resurrection hidden even from the little girl, who was one of the woman’s closest friend. Then, there was the relief for finally knowing that the woman had been alive all along and not the ghost which had plagued her in the past. Even with all this, she was happy.

Her steps were heavy yet her shoulders were unburdened as she held her head high. She will soon catch up to that woman even if she had to cross the whole desert. She will meet the Mistress no matter the cost.

Edited by Thotification

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THE MADAME LINDA LINDA


Khaki. Oh, gods, it is actually Khakina. Do my eyes deceive me?Related image

Her eyes lit up as she saw the first person to arrive. Just as she had expected it was that little girl. The Madame remembered that little thing even from way back. That girl used to hold the Madame when she was but a little baby. That girl was like an aunt to her. When the Madame grew up the girl had filled the role of an elder sister. When the Madame had reached early adulthood that girl is now her younger sister. By the time the Madame became the Mistress that girl turned into her loyal subordinate. Now that she's no longer the Mistress but just a regular plain old civilian, that girl Khakina is her friend and a dear one at that.

It really is Khakina. Oh, how she has grown. She's so pretty and adorable now. I don't know what to say anymore.

"Well hello, there little Khaki. Missed me?"

As the girl drew closer the Madame greeted with a solemn nod. Was there a need for words between old friends? Just seeing one in person would probably be enough for the Madame. She gestured to follow and motioned to move on.

That's it Khakina, follow me and don't ask questions. It will be best for both of us.

But it seemed the little girl called Khakina had another idea in mind. What she did next would surprise the Madame.

Edited by Thotification

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KHAKINA "KHAKI" KHATUN  46151153_1466112800186298_4201700014247145540_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com


Khakina Khatun found it strange, peculiar even. The woman that appeared before her was someone who looked entirely different. The woman had  the same hair color and probably style, and the skin was so similar to the Mistress' last look, the most recent one before the Mistress perished at Shawnee. But the face, oh the face.

It's not her! I'm so stupid. The letter got my hopes up for a second.

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. Serves her right for not thinking through. She should have expected someone would pose as the Mistress and trick her into coming. The ghost of the Mistress had been keeping her company for a while but that too seemed to fade every once in a while. While the notion was rather comforting but Khaki knew the truth. That specter was nothing more than a shallow representation of the Mistress that lived within her. One could even say it was but a memory and the only thing that is keeping it alive was Khaki's inability to move on and live a life without the Mistress at her side. It seemed like a sad thing but it is the truth. Khaki could not let go. But time did help her and within months she could no longer hear the Mistress' words screaming in her head. That apparition, that memory was now gone, perhaps forever. Except that this new apparition is right there right in front of her very eyes. So real to the touch.

"Well hello, there little Khaki. Missed me?"

When the woman spoke, Khaki felt the tears welling in her eyes. The sound of that voice. The manner in which the apparition spoke. That cadence in her speech. The way that woman's face creased and grimaced with each and every word. That was definitely the Mistress. Even when the woman turned her back on Khaki, the little girl did not let the opportunity pass. She ran towards the woman, her little feet leaving tiny footprints on the desert sand. Prints that was easily blown away and scattered by the hot desert breeze. Yet, the imprint of the Mistress that still lived within Khakina's heart will never cease to exist, will never falter. So the little girl leaped into the air and hugged the Mistress from behind.

"Middy. I missed you so much. I thought you were really dead. I saw you die at Shawnee. I saw....." and her sputtering voice turned into tiny sobs. 

Edited by Thotification

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INTERLUDE


And so the two old friends just stood hugging each other, both under the intense gaze of the desert sun. They heat was long forgotten, replaced by the warmth that these two shared and that fuzzy warm feeling that welled within their hearts and burst forth into a dazzling array of sentiments and nostalgia with spread to every nook and cranny figures. 

As their emotions finally run dry, the moment dying down, the two finally let each other go. They looked into each other's eyes with stupid grins on their faces. The two both shared the same opinion that no matter how their friend's appearance may have changed, but the friendship inside will never change. Then they both laughed at that idea and how ironic it is.

One must not forget that these two individuals were once dangerous criminals within the Terrenus government. They were part of a much larger organization, a terrorist group that once spread terror and destruction within that continent. How such a heartwarming scene can be easily spoiled by just the sudden input of knowledge and proper context. It still was actually cheesy to be precise.

But enough of that personal stuff as it is time for business, The Madame once more resumes walking forward with measured steps, her eyes fixed upon that horizon. Khaki trailed after the woman she knew was the Mistress but not the Mistress anymore. While they walked the Madame took the time to explain her quest for the legendary artifact, the blade called Baeoi.

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SERRAIDA “SERA” MAVAJOlatest?cb=20161207012555


Madness. Insanity. Rage. These are the things that had once describe this terror incarnate, this monster in a female human’s skin. But what the world does not know that she was not the horror they all knew, they expected but was more of the cliché’ jaded woman whose heart was just like glass, broken and shattered into many tiny splinters and jagged pieces. There was no fury within her, no anger building, no rage swelling within that bountiful chest of hers. None of that existed, only grief and sorrow. Sadness and depression had plagued this poor semblance of a woman. And the cause was but a simple, singular thing- the death of her mistress.

That singular event, that fateful scene, that sordid memory. That untimely and anti-climactic demise of the one person she looked up to. That was all it took to plunge this poor thing to an ever-spiraling cycle of depression and guilt and sorrow. After that gruesome and rather depressing news, she was a wreck, a hollow being reminiscent of the one glorious version of hers, the Paragon of Insanity. She was no longer the same woman after that time.

Yet here she was, trudging against the hot desert sand with only one goal in mind. On her clutched fist was a letter that told a secret. The secret was too shocking that even she can only give it disbelief. That is why she was here on this sweltering heat, this desiccated land. She needed to confirm it with her very eyes. Must confirm if the Mistress is actually alive. 

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 MANA NAHI 3de82b16f5e2b0062a58383bcecd0df3.jpg 


She was once the killer, the murderer that everyone feared and begrudgingly accepted. Her exploits were far beyond what any sane mortal man had accomplished. Her expertise in medicine and the human anatomy was better described as both astronomical, century-breaking and lastly rather graphic. So was the tale of this poor little seamstress whose life had turned for the worse and never for the better.

Let one hail back to the beginning of her story, to the days when she was but a wee babe. Well, when she was but a fledgling assistant to a tailor. She was young, innocent, naive. Wide-eyed she studied the all she can about tailoring and sewing and knitting and stitching and threading and so on and so forth. But there was more to it than that. Before she worked with clothing, she had started with men.

Yes, her deepest darkest secret was one she had buried deep within her past, a past she would rather not reminisce. It was one she had truly regretted and wished she could wipe away but was too scared to do so. While her mother was tending clothes, her father was in the war, stitching back the torn and cut flesh of many a wounded and dying soldier. There she had learned the tricks of the trade of a surgeon and from there, her fascination with the human body began.

No expected that she would become the killer she is now nor did they wish it to be. It all happened so naturally. But then came that woman who saved her from that forbidden path. It was the woman she would once more meet within this blazing wastes, this unholy desert. The Mistress was waiting and she her loyal servant had heard the summons.

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Silent. The spear was walking towards the group as it seemed she was needed for a mission. And so she came. 

Her hands slipped into her coat pockets of the black heart mirror cloak as the one known as Esben Djinn Valentina was here. You could feel her presence even if she was miles away. 

And now, among the group, Esben was here. That smile on her face. 

"Let the party begin." Esben chuckled.

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Interlude


With the pleasantries and memory recollection and self-introductions finally over, the group lead by the Madame would take the first step in their long and arduous journey. Their packs are full of ration and bare necessities but who can say that everything will work perfectly? Who knows, the whole party might be heading for a trap.

 

But this is the desert after all and their first objective would be to find shade or a place to hide under. The Madame knew the dangers of traveling under the hot desert sun and also the problems with traveling at night. But she had already made a decision. The team would hole up in the first rock they can find and wait for sundown. When the bright sunlight is no longer melting the living daylights out of everyone present then the whole party shall commence their expedition.

 

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The Madame takes the lead, followed by the others. There’s the bubbly Khaki at on her side and then the two lovey-dovey birds Sera and Esben at the back.

The procession seemed to be slowing down as the sweltering heat keeps getting worse by the second. Everyone should feel it, the stickiness of their sweat, the wetness of their clothing, the intense heat that seemed to bypass what meager protection their shabby clothes could offer.

This is the unforgiving land, and it will kill them all without a second thought before the Madame could reach her desired artifact.

The Madame would look back to the others, “Hurry! We must pick up the pace before the sandstorm hits us in the middle of nowhere! We must get to cover soon!”


 

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Esben was one who experienced heat a lot. She had been in the Sol-Morwenna desert plenty of times. And the heat didn't bother her. She had said nothing as they walked. This desert was the same as the one back home, just not blue sands. She sighed softly.

Sandstorms? I've never seen one before. Is it bad?

Esben wondered how far they were from the safest spot. She hadn't seen sandstorms because the deserts in her land didn't oxcur much like a normal desert. Looking to the others, she wondered if they could find something before it hit.

Any ideas Sera?

She asked the woman walking beside her. This place was foreign to the spear.

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paladin_of_sun_and_stars__sun_by_ketunhanska_db0qwqw-fullview.pngrami, of the cult of power


 

A few paces in front of the group, the sands stirred, the sifting dunes disturbed by a force from below the earth. It did not take long before a golden-haired man emerged, dark skin gleaming with strange runes, shimmering in the hot sun. A bright grin spread across his lips as he beheld the women advancing in his direction.

“Greetings, Madame!” He bowed low, hands flying out in a flourish as he introduced himself to the group. “I am Rami, and I am here at the Commander’s behest.” His lunar mark gleamed from where it sat upon his brow, marking him as one of the Cult.

The Madame narrowed her eyes. “I see. Lilith still has me tagged. But she’s an old friend so I’ll welcome any help.”

Rami grinned, his eyes twinkling with manic glee. “Wonderful, wonderful! I shall be of most advantageous service to you all.” And with that, he fell into place, marching at the rear end of the group.

 


 

Edited by vielle

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THE PRETTY PARAGON


Khaki saunters to the back of the group casually taking peeks at the queer newcomer. She wonders where did this thing come from and how the hell did it manage to track the Mistress. Should Khaki kill this thing before it breeds? But Khaki was a kind little girl, just as she was pretty. She wouldn’t hurt another soul, unless she has the right justification. For now she would watch. Closely

Peering at Rami, Khaki began her query, “I don’t recall someone like you from the Cult? You did not acknowledge my presence as well. Are you daft?

The man turned towards her with a mildly curious look. “Ah—forgive me, miss! I do not recall someone like you either.” He peered closely at Khaki, gaze considering. “I am a member of the Cult branch stationed in Genesaris; I am guessing you are from Terrenus?”

The little girl raised a dainty eyebrow. “I’m from everywhere, actually. And I don’t have a branch. I just happen to meet Lilith outside a cave then boom! Pretty Paragon for life.”


 

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ESBEN AND SERA


Sera shrugs at Esben’s query. “Well, not that. Much actually. But I’ve been through different kind of storms but the worst part is always the part where I get seperated from my allies. Quite the bummer but life sucks anyways.”

Esben sighed. She shook her head as she watched the others. Quiet, the spear became lost in her thoughts. Lost in the puzzlement of sandstorms. Walking with this group, she didn't know much about them. Not even Sera. It made her silent, wary yet still traveled with them.

I see. Well, then we should hurry and find shelter before one hits no? Don't want to be hit by one right?

Sera turns towards Esben, her face kind of apologetic, “Hey, I’m sorry that we have to suffer this desert, but worry not. We’ll be back home in no time.”

Don't worry about it. I'm sure things will work out. Let’s just get to the task at hand.


 

Edited by Thotification

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paladin_of_sun_and_stars__sun_by_ketunhanska_db0qwqw-fullview.pngrami, of the cult of power


 

Something was brewing on the horizon, and Rami’s turquoise gaze narrowed once he had caught a glimpse of it.

“Madame! There is a sandstorm up ahead!” He squinted as if wondering whether the cloudy mass in the distance was the very phenomenon he mentioned or not. “Maybe we should—”

The Madame shrugged. “Eh. We all see sand here. But just to be safe.” She looked back and eyes grew larger. “So, uh...start running, everyone?”

Rami was already jogging at a leisurely pace. “That is a good idea, Madame! We do not want to get swallowed by a sandstorm, no siree!” He watched as the group began to break into a run, moving across the dunes with great speed.

Then Khaki screamed beside the man while preparing to dash forward: “Get that sand away from my adorable face!”

 


Edited by vielle

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