In Service of my Mistress (A Butler Quest)
- Thread starter LinkOnScepter
- Start date
- Original
ConfusedPotato
Unverified Verifier
- Location
- Australia
[X] Leave it up to your Mistress. He can stay until she can decide what to do with him.
[X] Leave it up to your Mistress. He can stay until she can decide what to do with him.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Leave it up to your Mistress. He can stay until she can decide what to do with him.
Another Story: The Draugr 2
- Location
- The Milky Way Galaxy, Presumably
Since I've posted my last omake I got one like.
One.
This is fine- no really it is. It's not.
But anyway! Here is the next instalment of the draugr- Erico
Because my muse will not leave me.
<3rd Person>
The door of the manor gently clicked shut, Erico preferred to enter in silence, less chance of interrupting his mistresses sleeping time.
He stood there in silence for a moment- in the main hall. Its massive size always left him a bit breathless, throughout his 100 years experience. Through it was rather empty, with little decorations; just a rug and some statues, at the base of the stairs in front of him. Along the walls were several bleached rectangles, as if there something once stood, yet neither the butler or mistress cared to notice them, it was upsetting; and greatly so.
Erico clapped his hands together once, and briskly walked up the stairs.
Up he went, and down the corridor, past several passageways to dusty storage rooms; despite how he dusted them nary a week ago- they built up enough grey fluff to block the door.
Erico swore that the house was haunted- and that the dead dwelled inside.
Finally he arrived to Lady Catherine's room and, unbidden, entered it. Within her chambers were just as sparse as the main hall, yet its comparatively cramped area made the contents that much more larger. Before the door stood the Lady's bed, and her snoring (that she would vehemently deny) within. Between the door and her bed was a large chest of drawers, which blocked the view so that to see Catherine, one must step closer.
Erico did so, then bent down and withdrew clean attire from the bottom drawers, he left the clothes neatly folded on a chair next to his Lady's bed. He then left the bedchambers into a door set behind the apparel-draped chair. This door led into a small bathroom.
It was as a bathroom should appear; sink, toilet and tub- with curtains and shelf's skyward (stocked to near-falling with lotions and other strange bottles; of concoctions Erico considered witchcraft). Down- next to the thin toilet roll- was a small first aid kit; Erico had demanded that Catherine learnt some manner of healing.
Erico reached up to the shelf's' and withdrew some chemicals dubbed 'Conditioner' and 'Bubble Bath', he had no idea what they did, but Catherine would usually have him fetch them from the ludicrously high boards if he did not grab them straight away, he set them on the side of the tub as he turned a tap- causing a hissing stream of water to emerge.
Catherine was soon roused by its' sound. She entered the bathroom with crusty eyes and a serious case of 'bed' hair. Catherine stepped onto a small stool- to reach the sink- and gently washed her face as the water level reached the half-way mark.
During this time Erico shoved roughly against one storeroom door, budging it a single inch, before it gave tribute as a small mound of dust. From there the door moved no further, and creaked ominously; as if it was at risk of breaking.
Erico took a small step back, and sighed- he would not get to clean it- at least by mortal means, or without breaking anything.
But then, he was not a mortal, and he had came prepared; with him was a chicken- a dead one- and a small tub of water.
He idly chewed a ripped off piece of chicken as he focused (eating always helped), behind him the water swirled- twisting and rocking the tub, well past the point of tipping over and onto the rug. Then the water leapt out of the tub and swirled inside- its inside turned inky-black and frothing furiously.
A draugr was held by will alone, and a drowned draugr held more then his corpse. The Tides itself would heed his command (yet with savagery, the sea would, and never will, let itself be tamed- even more so to one that lost to it).
The spilt liquid rushed onwards, into crannys and nooks of the store room, crushing into the grey residue- that coated everything, skimming close to all surfaces, close enough to reach out and touch it, but never touching wood or card or paint.
The Tides do not agree with solids. Or air. Or anything.
As the Tides followed Ericos' orders- to follow these paths( and no deviancy)- Erico heard things; first of cursing, then of skittering; like that of spiders scurrying, then of screaming, and last of silence.
Seemed to Erico that there was an intruder.
Was. However Erico did not worry- there won't be a corpse to bury. Plus Catherine did not like spiders, so the murder will be excused. He willed the Tides to recede, and they returned to the tub, slowly expelling black smog. The smog was the remnants of Ericos will- and the ash that built up in his leaden limbs.
Erico then swung open the door, it moved freely, behind it lay a man, who clung desperately to life on the floor- illuminated only by the light from the corridor. He was clearly suffering, as half his face has twisted and burnt- as if arson has occurred, and not the acidic Tides claiming him.
Yet to call him 'he' would be a lie, as one arm had split into 2, long, gangly, talon-tipped arms, like that of a spider; if it was dreamed by some depraved madman (having either the most arousing or most terrifying dream of his life).
The thing still clutched to life- like a mantis who caught their prey. It trembled feebly, with all three arms grating against the floor, trying to find purchase, scratching the floor into a criss-cross of thin furrows.
Ew.
Erico kicked it 'till it stopped moving, then dumped the still-smoking tub onto it when it twitched.
EW EW EW EW EW WHY.
Now there was no corpse. Or floor.
But then, the floor was an acceptable sacrifice, it was to kill a spider.
Lady Catherine Foxwell disagreed. She had- with flushed and puffed cheeks- demanded that Erico fixed it right way, however he did not anything to patch the hole with; and 'apparently' a box is 'unacceptable', neither is a tree cut down- or some large rocks.
So now Erico has been sent to town, with the intent to buy 'something' to fix it.
That might have been a mistake- who knows what he will return with? And how much fire would follow in his wake?
<>
I got to 1 k words, yay!
I think that is the most I've written for no tangible benefit, Oh well.
One.
This is fine- no really it is. It's not.
But anyway! Here is the next instalment of the draugr- Erico
Because my muse will not leave me.
<3rd Person>
The door of the manor gently clicked shut, Erico preferred to enter in silence, less chance of interrupting his mistresses sleeping time.
He stood there in silence for a moment- in the main hall. Its massive size always left him a bit breathless, throughout his 100 years experience. Through it was rather empty, with little decorations; just a rug and some statues, at the base of the stairs in front of him. Along the walls were several bleached rectangles, as if there something once stood, yet neither the butler or mistress cared to notice them, it was upsetting; and greatly so.
Erico clapped his hands together once, and briskly walked up the stairs.
Up he went, and down the corridor, past several passageways to dusty storage rooms; despite how he dusted them nary a week ago- they built up enough grey fluff to block the door.
Erico swore that the house was haunted- and that the dead dwelled inside.
Finally he arrived to Lady Catherine's room and, unbidden, entered it. Within her chambers were just as sparse as the main hall, yet its comparatively cramped area made the contents that much more larger. Before the door stood the Lady's bed, and her snoring (that she would vehemently deny) within. Between the door and her bed was a large chest of drawers, which blocked the view so that to see Catherine, one must step closer.
Erico did so, then bent down and withdrew clean attire from the bottom drawers, he left the clothes neatly folded on a chair next to his Lady's bed. He then left the bedchambers into a door set behind the apparel-draped chair. This door led into a small bathroom.
It was as a bathroom should appear; sink, toilet and tub- with curtains and shelf's skyward (stocked to near-falling with lotions and other strange bottles; of concoctions Erico considered witchcraft). Down- next to the thin toilet roll- was a small first aid kit; Erico had demanded that Catherine learnt some manner of healing.
Erico reached up to the shelf's' and withdrew some chemicals dubbed 'Conditioner' and 'Bubble Bath', he had no idea what they did, but Catherine would usually have him fetch them from the ludicrously high boards if he did not grab them straight away, he set them on the side of the tub as he turned a tap- causing a hissing stream of water to emerge.
Catherine was soon roused by its' sound. She entered the bathroom with crusty eyes and a serious case of 'bed' hair. Catherine stepped onto a small stool- to reach the sink- and gently washed her face as the water level reached the half-way mark.
During this time Erico shoved roughly against one storeroom door, budging it a single inch, before it gave tribute as a small mound of dust. From there the door moved no further, and creaked ominously; as if it was at risk of breaking.
Erico took a small step back, and sighed- he would not get to clean it- at least by mortal means, or without breaking anything.
But then, he was not a mortal, and he had came prepared; with him was a chicken- a dead one- and a small tub of water.
He idly chewed a ripped off piece of chicken as he focused (eating always helped), behind him the water swirled- twisting and rocking the tub, well past the point of tipping over and onto the rug. Then the water leapt out of the tub and swirled inside- its inside turned inky-black and frothing furiously.
A draugr was held by will alone, and a drowned draugr held more then his corpse. The Tides itself would heed his command (yet with savagery, the sea would, and never will, let itself be tamed- even more so to one that lost to it).
The spilt liquid rushed onwards, into crannys and nooks of the store room, crushing into the grey residue- that coated everything, skimming close to all surfaces, close enough to reach out and touch it, but never touching wood or card or paint.
The Tides do not agree with solids. Or air. Or anything.
As the Tides followed Ericos' orders- to follow these paths( and no deviancy)- Erico heard things; first of cursing, then of skittering; like that of spiders scurrying, then of screaming, and last of silence.
Seemed to Erico that there was an intruder.
Was. However Erico did not worry- there won't be a corpse to bury. Plus Catherine did not like spiders, so the murder will be excused. He willed the Tides to recede, and they returned to the tub, slowly expelling black smog. The smog was the remnants of Ericos will- and the ash that built up in his leaden limbs.
Erico then swung open the door, it moved freely, behind it lay a man, who clung desperately to life on the floor- illuminated only by the light from the corridor. He was clearly suffering, as half his face has twisted and burnt- as if arson has occurred, and not the acidic Tides claiming him.
Yet to call him 'he' would be a lie, as one arm had split into 2, long, gangly, talon-tipped arms, like that of a spider; if it was dreamed by some depraved madman (having either the most arousing or most terrifying dream of his life).
The thing still clutched to life- like a mantis who caught their prey. It trembled feebly, with all three arms grating against the floor, trying to find purchase, scratching the floor into a criss-cross of thin furrows.
Ew.
Erico kicked it 'till it stopped moving, then dumped the still-smoking tub onto it when it twitched.
EW EW EW EW EW WHY.
Now there was no corpse. Or floor.
But then, the floor was an acceptable sacrifice, it was to kill a spider.
Lady Catherine Foxwell disagreed. She had- with flushed and puffed cheeks- demanded that Erico fixed it right way, however he did not anything to patch the hole with; and 'apparently' a box is 'unacceptable', neither is a tree cut down- or some large rocks.
So now Erico has been sent to town, with the intent to buy 'something' to fix it.
That might have been a mistake- who knows what he will return with? And how much fire would follow in his wake?
<>
I got to 1 k words, yay!
I think that is the most I've written for no tangible benefit, Oh well.
LinkOnScepter
The One who Strangles Concepts to death
- Location
- Interwebs
Thanks for the Omakes man!
Sorry I haven't put up the new Update yet. On top of taking care of University shit, I got sick over the weekend. I'm feeling much better now and plan to Update all three of my Quest soon.
The next update for this one should be around by Sunday.
Sorry I haven't put up the new Update yet. On top of taking care of University shit, I got sick over the weekend. I'm feeling much better now and plan to Update all three of my Quest soon.
The next update for this one should be around by Sunday.