Farhaven

Chapter One - Awakening Soren groaned in pain as he suddenly jerked awake. He immediately wished he hadn’t, not that his wishes had ever done him much good, as he caught just below his temple on the annoyingly hard and pointy corner of his bedstead. He downgraded what had been a manly groan to a manly whimper as he curled back up, his head pounding and his eyes, which he instantly regretted trying to use, feeling as if they had half a beach worth of sand stuffed behind them. He swore, and knowing himself, suspected he had stupidly chosen the more rocky half of the beach to take from if the grit he rubbed away as he tried to press his face into oblivion was anything to go by. 'He's awake Amos.' Father Tully called seemingly as loudly as he could into the hall, the sound reverberating around the room and stabbing the inside of Soren's head as if a full cavalry charge was stampeding past him. 'Relax Soren, you are safe,' The kindly old priest shouted, or at least that is what Soren could have sworn he was doing as he tottered over to him with a small bowl. A neat trick that Soren thought, shouting so loudly without breaking that infuriating smile. 'This will help'. Soren immediately regretted putting so much mental power into figuring out Tully’s impressive ventriloquism. Oh shit no it won't. Before experience could tempt Soren to vocalise the thought the old man stepped in close and tilted his head back to pour the bowls rancid contents down his throat, the grip holding his jaw open oddly firm when compared to his soft words though all too familiar. Soren tried to struggle but he had let the old man get too close, his efforts to push him away were as weak as not just any day old kitten’s, but one that had been unfortunate enough to have aforementioned cavalry go over it first. Soren mentally added in a couple of angry fire magi into his predicament, the ringing in his head had more of that certain explosive rhythm to it now that he had a spare moment of true helplessness to really mull it over. Soren choked and spluttered, the only sensible thing he could bring himself to do. It gave him an unwelcomed chance to savour every flavour, the oily, surely impossibly bitter, liquid that went down first was only slightly less foul when compared to the soggy chunks hidden at the bottom of the bowl that followed. Soren was glad, though certainly less than thankful, he at least hadn't tried to verbally object this time and risk inhaling any of what what he could swear tasted suspiciously more poisonous than usual.'That's a good lad.' Tully said with that one particular mocking smile as he quickly stepped clear of any retributory flailing that he knew was coming. Soren did his best but with Tully out of the much preferred physical reach he resorted to a wave of threats that would have made a sailor proud just as his father, unfortunately not a sailor, stepped into the room. ‘Thank you for watching over the boy Tully,’ Amos said to the old priest and cutting off Soren’s tirade midway through him explaining what Tully should do to his mother. ‘I am only half glad to see his tongue still works this time however.’‘Not to worry, not to worry,’ The priest said with a twinkle in his eye that Soren could have sworn was a momentary manifestation of the most pure evil. ‘The new agent is a little slower indeed but should have greater strength than usual in the long run, do a little more damage but it should also release more.’ Soren considered his options and immediately abandoned his first plan of committing to tell Tully about the specifics when his tongue refused to move. He got out a gargled. ‘Dun’t yeu fu.’ Before his mouth stopped all together and he moved onto the next option. He was flexible like that, always telling himself that if at first you don’t succeed try everything else, preferably in order of least to most stupid. Getting hung up on the specifics of what went wrong always just tends to leave less time for plan B through to Z. Unfortunately plan B didn’t last much longer than plan A had with Soren only making two steps toward the iron poker next to the fireplace before his legs gave way and he crashed to the floor. ‘Did you use more Nightshade this time? Amos asked Tully as if they were sipping tea at a cafe and his son wasn’t still clawing his way across the floor with his legs no longer moving. ‘I thought he would at least get a hold of it this time around.’ ‘Only a little,’ Tully sighed. ‘He has bulked up a bit since last time so I was able to get a little more into him without it getting out of control. It is fantastic at what it does but I’m getting old Amos, don’t quite heal up quite like I used to.’‘I know old friend and thank you for your help, it is appreciated as always. Amos sighed. ‘Let’s get started.’ Soren abandoned another half dozen plans in the moments between his fingers desperately straining for the poker and his body refusing to move a muscle. It was a shame really some of them would actually considered genius if he could actually pull them off though jumping through the window onto a speeding horse did seem a little farfetched at the moment. Gentle hands rolled him from his stomach and onto his back and he saw Tully take a moment to make sure he didn’t choke on his own tongue this time. That was nice for Hell incarnate. Sharp stabbing pains began to erupt in his stomach, joining the ones already present most everywhere else. He tried to hunch onto it, to push it down, bundling it into himself till he wouldn’t be able to feel anymore but he couldn’t move. He tried to scream but nothing but froth and the iron hint of blood escaped his lips. Firm hands gripped either side of his head and lifted it a little from the of the floor. ‘It’s about as bad as you expected Amos.’ Tully muttered, flinching back reflexively and letting Soren’s head bounce off the wooden floorboards with a dull thunk before he could get a better grip. Soren didn’t even notice in the agony that was consuming him, the world was a blur and he skipped all the way to plan Z and began to pray for God to kill him. He added a caveat this time and thought about how to calculate just how much God would have to be bribed to consider striking down one his own holy, if not wholly devout, men.