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| Of Moonlight and Mushrooms [p]; For Shirine & Luna. =D | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Fri Sep 4, 2015 2:24 am (417 Views) | |
| Volare | Fri Sep 4, 2015 2:24 am Post #1 |
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The distant peals of thunder were almost imperceptible even to the ears of the elves and fae that dwelt within the Norwood today. A storm had brewed overnight on the Debon Plains and was in full swing just a few miles outside of Kellen but it wouldn’t reach the Norwood until late tonight, most likely. Human ears certainly would not have heard the storm from here, so it was no wonder that Volare could barely hear the occasional bit of thunder in the distance. She wasn’t focused on the distant storm at the moment, anyway. It was just after an early lunch and the mid-afternoon sunlight was filtering pleasantly through the treetops. The druids were still being fought by the elves and locals alike, as well as those they hired to help them (or to do their dirty work for them), but Shirine and Volare had apparently been one of the parties that had done some serious damage to the druids’ plans for aggressive expansion. Volare had learned that the creature she described to the elves was called a Beholder; it was a very dangerous wielder of elemental magic that unleashed devastating “beams” or “rays” consisting of various types of elemental magic. But the druidic experiments that had led to it having the body it had been growing out of (or that had been growing out of it) had apparently allowed it to assimilate (that is, absorb) many of the elves and travelers that had gone that deep into the Calmonah Woods. Now that it was dead, the path had been cleared for other parties to strike out against the druids more easily. It hadn’t been the only such monster, apparently; but killing it meant that there was one less monster to deal with. The elves had also apparently been charmed into helping the druids at first; then the druids had begun using the Beholder creature as a powerful focus in order to control the elves. With the blowback from the Beholder creature’s death temporarily stunning the druidic masters of the creature, the elves were resisting now and the fight was being taken directly to the heart of the problem. That left Volare and Shirine to begin dealing with their own issues once more. First and foremost, they had a druid to meet. But they were also seeking a good place for Shirine to bite Volare (which sounded a lot worse than it actually was - supposedly). In three nights’ time, the moon would be at its fullest. They needed clearing from within which they could easily observe the moon in all its glory, thus concentrating the moonlight upon that spot. Not only that, but they needed a place isolated enough to avoid detection until the process had ended; Volare didn’t know how long the process would take, only that it would be painful and she would have little control. Shirine would help her, of course, but that might not be enough for her to completely make it through the process unscathed. The full force of such a potent moon would be extremely powerful, she had been told, with regard to such things. Volare was also looking for a Fairy Ring in particular, a grouping of stones planted deep under the ground that rose high enough to be visible. Fairy Rings were among the most ancient and powerful of fae magic. They were the stuff of legend, the kinds of things that could make or break a fight. They had been used to great advantage when fighting the human invaders back in Gwyllion. The few here who knew of them didn’t believe they actually existed; the tales said that they were supposed to bring good fortune to those who stumbled upon them and were favored by the ones who had created the Fairy Rings in the first place. But that was only the barest fragment of what they were capable of. Fairy Rings weren’t comprised of normal stones. Although not visible above-ground, mostly-forgotten fae runes were carved into many places across most of the surface of each stone. Those runes easily sensed when fae inhabited the rings and quickly became a powerful focal point for even the most basic of their magic, turning a simple spark into a massive fire-ball or a small spell to create water into a waist-deep flood. Of course, even this was only the uncontrolled latent nature of a Fairy Ring. In truth, the few modern fae who had learned to truly utilize Fairy Rings to their fullest capacity hadn’t even scratched the surface of their abilities or the full scope of their power. It was the older fae who often discovered them and manipulated the soil in order to grow special mushrooms from the surface of the stones, and it was these mushrooms that Volare was seeking. Bright and colourful, more-so than any other mushroom in the wild, the mushrooms were large and edible; but to eat them was taboo - to even harm them in the slightest - was an extreme taboo of the fae. To touch them was frowned upon unless you were the one who had grown the mushrooms, as such a thing required a fae to put a portion of xirself into the stones; it was like touching someone in a place they didn’t want to be touched. But for the one who’d planted them, touching those mushrooms was like touching the very essence of fae magic in and of itself. It was a massive boost in power and durability, and it could turn even a weak fae into a veritable living fortress. Just being within the bounds of a Fairy Ring was enough for any fae to feel like a goddess. It was a very euphoric experience. If Volare could find an isolated Fairy Ring from within which she could clearly see the full moon, it was possible that she’d have access to even greater power than Shirine. Whether she’d actually be able to tap into that kind of power and control it, of course, was another matter entirely. The mushrooms would be the only immediately visible part of the Fairy Ring but that’s all that was needed. The mushrooms would take in the moonlight, amplify it, and release spores that would be drawn to Volare because of her fae blood. At least, that’s what the fae believed. But the exact effects of “moonshrooming”, as this process was called, were unknown. Hopefully, the process would be extremely positive. Unfortunately, Volare wasn’t having much luck. There just didn’t seem to be a lot of “perfect” spots in the Norwood. Oh, there were a lot of open spots, but they were all in places that were easy to get to and often stumbled upon. Some of the places that she and Shirine had found thus far were gathering places for the elves as well; that definitely wasn’t safe, especially if there were moon elves in the area. She sighed now as she determined that yet another potential spot was not at all what they were looking for. She didn’t have her hood up today, which meant that her fancy “do” - which Shirine seemed to like copying, if yesterday’s events were any indication - was in plain sight. She was wearing the hood, of course; the scarf-ends of it trailed down her back, flanking the braids. She just didn’t have it concealing her features at the moment. She turned her eyes to those of Shirine with a look that said exactly what she was thinking: Another dead end. OOC
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Fri Sep 4, 2015 4:13 am Post #2 |
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Shirine walked through the forest with a decently large pack on her back. It looked a little large on her as she was in her elven form, but with her abilities she had enhanced a few muscles subtly so as the pack was no real bother. It held supplies for at least a few days which saved on the need to try hunt or scavenge food while away from the villages. She had expected it to be hard to find a good place. She had instincts that drew her to various open spots, but more often than not there had been evidence of others having traveled there more than once. Still the forest was big and they had several days to find a nice secluded spot. Still she could smell the air and storm was certainly coming. She could almost hear it at times. She had managed to get her wardrobe outfit to behave today and wore a forest green cloak with a hood as well as simple brown pants and a grey green blouse. The hood was down for the moment as well. While she was mostly in her elven form her nose had shifted to a more feline form so that she could scent the air and hopefully find what they were looking for. She had no idea what the mushrooms Volare mentioned were like or what they smelled like for that matter. Still if there was such a thing it would be an out of the way place and she could find that by the presence or absence of scents. This partial shifting she was doing was still a bit knew as she really hadn't experimented much with such things before, but since her time with Volare in the elven village she had been curious to see how well she could control it. It turned out she was pretty good. Shirine had not sensed anything for quite a while and her mind had started to wander. She found her gaze drifting towards Volare more often than not. She had developed some... well strong feelings for the fey, but even though she had been brave to give a kiss on the cheek earlier she felt to shy to do it again. Sigh she had to focus on other things... darn Volar had a cute butt.... bad Shirine focus. While berating her own inner thoughts she scented something on the air. It was hard to place what it was at first the air was already a little damp from the coming storm. Still her instinct said they should check it out. She spoke up to Volare, "Volare hold up a bit I think I smell something. I can't quite place it, but it is different. Probably not what we are looking for, but my instinct says we should check it out." She pointed in the direction the scent was coming from. She was now sure she would have missed it if the storm hadn't shifted the winds a bit. She wondered what they might find over there. OOC
Edited by Shirine, Fri Sep 4, 2015 4:14 am.
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| Luna Moore | Sat Sep 5, 2015 2:05 am Post #3 |
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Mana flickered in the air like lightning bugs, here and then gone. The clearing was a scarred mass, a mess that looked like nothing so much as a tornado had ripped through it, except that this particular tornado had burned at its core. The clearing had been, before, a great deal smaller than it was now. But now....the grasses and low groudn cover had been scoured away, ashes drifting on the wind as the heat radiating from the ground slowly cooled. Trees had been toppled, and then split, shattered, broken, incinerated as they fell. Even now, smoke still rose from many of the broken boles, hinting at the fury that had gripped them not very long ago. Above it all, the heavy feel of an incoming storm, a blessing in disguise as many small fires still licked through the remnants of the woodlands around her. It would arrive soon and, she feared, possibly spin out of control as had everything else in her life of late. Little more than a threat to everything around her, and she knew it. And she didn't care. Luna sat in a hollowed out part of the meadow, the ground scorched black and stained with white and grey ashes that had once been plants. Spasms still racked her frame as she lay there, curled into a ball but with her eyes wide opn, hands pressed to her forehead. As if they could stop what was happening, as if she had any control over the wild power that coursed through her even now. And, for many, it was probably as well that she had little control at the moment, for she would like nothing so much as to lash out at someone, anyone. Lash out in anger, frustration, hopelessness. These were the emotions that dominated her, and had since she left the Debon plains, since she had arrived in that place from locations unknown. This was all different, once! The walls rose high, and our enemies.... Luna winced. Another voice, another fabrication of her mind. They were alien, unwelcome...and had only begun with the breaking of her flesh and blood, an event that she could still not clearly remember. Only one thing of that fell event had surfaced with enough raw certainty that she could clutch and hold onto it like a piece of driftwood in the middle of a heavingt sea. The Great Lord. Avanth, the destroyer....the man who had fouled her body, soul, spirit - whatever you wished to call it - with his undying, unclean hand. And for this man, she burned with hatred that was becoming all consuming. Among the host of problems that had come about because of whatever it was that had happened, was her sudden lack of caring. She only desired one thing. She pushed aside the errant thought, ignoring the rising babble of unintelligible voices that came with it, and slowly sat up. She felt a trickle of wetness on her chin, and wiped the blood that had began to run from her nose away into the ashes. She cast her dark eyes around the clearing, unsure of what she expected to find - certainly not the devastation that was all too evident. She didn't remember doing it, but that was not surprising anymore either. Her head was full of holes, gaping blank spots where pieces of her life should have been. Filling those holes were...other things. She shuddered at the thought of it. Luna looked skyward and saw the outriding clouds of the storm scudding across the sky. She could feel each individual flash of lightning much further towards the heart of the storm, every current of wind and air, the thermals, the rain. The presence of this singular storm was of great comfort to her, or perhaps it was just the familiarity that was of comfort. An unsuitable replacement for the few friends she had eschewed since her fall, a poor substitute for interaction. It was all she could take though, for she did not trust anyone anymore, or rather only trusted one or two people. The rest...all of them could be his hidden hands. K'rull, or this beast called the Lord, either way it didn't matter. She paused as a drop of rain, far ahead of the storm, landed on her upturned face, watering down the thinning trail of blood. She could...feel something. Others, approaching - she cringed inwardly, seeking a place of refuge in the immediate surroundings and finding none. Everything had been blasted, torn apart by wild sorcery, and she had been at the heart of that unthinking maelstrom, the unleashing of which was going to lead to...an encounter. A mixture of fear, self-loathing, and anger boiled through her as she settled against the ground, and attempted to make herself small. If they approached...well, hopefully it wouldn't come to killing. Hopefully. |
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| Volare | Sat Sep 5, 2015 3:12 am Post #4 |
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She looked to Shirine when the elven maid mentioned smelling something. With her weretigress nose, she could certainly smell things that were much further away than Volare could detect. She nodded and rested one hand upon the newly reforged blade at her right hip. Despite her exhaustion after yesterday’s events, she’d been unable to sleep for more than a couple of hours last night; apparently, one of the best local elven weapon smiths often had trouble sleeping as well. She’d sought him out to see about drawing the poison out of the Ivyn-Leaf Blade she’d recovered in the Calmonah Woods while fighting the druids. The smith had been successful in that venture - to an extent. Although he hadn’t been able to draw all of the poison out of the blade for coating the weapon, he’d somehow managed to accomplish something even more unique: he’d actually given her Star Blade a poisoned edge. It had taken several hours to figure out how to reforge the Star Blade and add in the poison on a permanent basis, but he was considered one of the best local weapon smiths for a reason. He had called the newly reforged blade Ivyn’s Ire, and Volare couldn’t deny that it was a fitting moniker. She did not draw the green-edged blade of black just yet, the glowing white stars upon the flat sides of the blade thus remaining hidden for the time being. But she kept her hand there just in case it was needed. It seemed that it was often needed of late, and some small part of her - perhaps more than just a small part, even - yearned to draw it. She moved quickly in the direction that Shirine had indicated as a result. Whatever subconsciously drove her, the only thing on her conscious mind at the moment was determining the nature of the potential threat that the forest now faced. It seemed she had become some kind of protector of the woodlands, whether she had intended to or not. First there had been initial fight against the druids - a method by which to clear her thoughts and sate her growing bloodlust. She had only wanted to relieve her anger, and a quest had been perfect for that…partially, at least. She didn’t think the anger would ever completely leave her. But then she had gone in with Shirine to finish the job, and the conflict was still raging on - this time without Shirine or Volare, but still. And now she was heading in the direction of something odd that might or might not be a threat to the woods or to them - or both. It was rather intriguing. Also, there was the matter of the birds’ involvement in yesterday’s fight to consider. That had perhaps been the oddest thing she had yet seen since coming to Imythess. In fact, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen anything like that since the war back in Gwyllion. But to do that of their own volition? To interfere like that, with no call from any fae or elf? It was truly the oddest of circumstances indeed. And that one bird in particular, the silverish-feathered one that she’d now seen twice…the visions that it had given her the second time… No, she couldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t think about what she had pondered last night, either, while she idly waited for her sword to be finished. Her relationship with Shirine was growing into something more than friendship. It was definitive now, not merely hinting. That kiss on the cheek…she didn’t blush at the moment but it did make her cheeks feel warm. She glanced at Shirine, who was moving in the same direction but some distance away. She had mixed feelings about it. She was at once both embarrassed and pleased. Yes, she had truly changed since coming to Imythess… But no. She couldn’t think about that, either. Her mind had to be “all business”, as the Imythessian merchants were fond of saying, if she was to survive out here. She had learned that the hard way with Shirine by her side, and not just once. She was comfortable out here, traipsing through the woods as she was, the Norwood’s natural beauty and the feeling of nature itself embracing her and enclosing her more like a favorite blanket than a set of walls. She loved this place already, and she had only been here a short time. So perhaps it was just as natural to want to protect it, to keep the peace within it. But she also had to be alert to her surroundings, aware of what dangerous might be faced. The roads were apparently no safer than Calmonah at the present moment, from what she’d learned in the village; but at least on the roads, there weren’t monsters derived from a druid’s worst nightmares roaming about, trying to “absorb people” (as the innkeeper had so aptly called it when the monster was described to him by a survivor; that survivor, by the way, was no longer mentally or emotionally stable). So she had to expect the unexpected here, and not in a good way. She thus wasn’t surprised when she started to smell smoke in the distance. That smell soon became almost overwhelming. She carefully raised her hood to protect her as a result, thus concealing all but her eyes as she was often apt to do these days. Once more, she placed a hand upon the pommel of Ivyn’s Ire. She moved forward at a cautious pace until she began to hear the crackling of flames, at which point she hastened her steps. The source of the noise grew louder as she trotted forward and was quickly discovered: a massive, blackened log engulfed in flames. Much of the ends had already turned to ash but if the fire spread, it would easily take the rest of the Norwood with it. Looking around quickly, she spotted broadleaves high above. They would be perfect. She drew a deep breath and concentrated, focusing what was left of her mana. This was far more difficult than it should have been; she’d never had to focus much before the humans had launched their attack on Gwyllion. But with the severance of her wings came the severance of the source of her power as well, and Imythessian magic was far different than the natural magic of Gwyllion beside. It took everything she had just to cast simple Cantrips now, and she was trying for something just a little more complex. She finally managed to draw forth what she wished: a barrel’s worth of water that cascaded down from the leaves above. When she was done, she breathed a little heavier than usual. She watched the water splash upon the log below, putting out some of the flames and spreading throughout the holes in the log. That wouldn’t completely solve the problem but she didn’t have the power to cast multiple spells in rapid succession anymore. She turned to Shirine to see what else could be done, as the water she’d created would only solve part of the problem. OOC
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Sat Sep 5, 2015 5:09 pm Post #5 |
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Shirine could see the burning around the field. She could smell it clearer now and wondered what had caused it. A lightning strike seemed most likely, but she wasn't sure. Though she also smelled the scent of another person mixed among the smoke. Were they the cause or a victim? She hated how unsettling the unknown could be. She watched as Volare poured water down clearing a path through the flames. A burning log still stood in their way she knew how to take care of this though. She transformed fully. Her clothes did not shift too much, but had become as tight as a catsuit. She decided to try and fix that latter. She had mostly been focusing on creating some decently thick leather gloves. Not armor level, but good enough. She first took her Nodachi and cleaved the log in half using the length to give her a bit of distance. She had been right that it was weak as it crumbled in half at the blow cinders spraying out into the wind. They were already being extinguished in the stormy air. She then sheathed her sword and then lifted and pushed one then the other half of the burning log out of the way. When she was done she had clearly burned her hands a little, but they were healing fast. Shirine putting a slightly painful grip on her Katana entered what was now a burnt out clearing. It smelt or felt of magic if one could smell or feel magic. She approached cautiously as her gaze fell on a huddled figure. The person looked ... scared? confused? no she wasn't sure and things like this had been an act before. She decided to call out before approaching. Give this person a chance to be friendly. She hopped this didn't bite her in the rear for trying to be nice to the person in the center of ... well whatever had caused this damage. "Hello there do you need help? We don't mean any harm." She tried her best to sound friendly. Of course the fact that she had three sheathed swords and a buckler on her arm probably screamed warrior. Not to mention being a tiger person. She supposed she probably looked intimidating. Volare was probably just behind her too. |
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| Luna Moore | Mon Sep 7, 2015 2:36 am Post #6 |
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She flinched at the words as she had flinched at the sound of the fire-eaten log collapsing, and tried to huddle down even further. She did not look up, not to begin with, to see who or what it was that had found her here, in the middle of nowhere. When she finally did, she almost recoiled. It was....humanoid, of that she was certain. But human? Surely not. They came over the walls, you know, a voice whispered in the back of her head. It had seemingly no connection with what was going on in the here and now. She tried, and failed to push it aside. They looked innocuous enough, until they got close - and then it was fangs and claws, and blood. So much blood... Be quiet! Her words were a hoarse shout that echoed in the clearing even as the storm finally saw fit to grace them with its presence. Thunder rolled low across the woodlands, and the air grew a little darker as the thicker clouds rolled in ahead of the main front. Fat, cold drops of rain began to patter down into the still smoldering wreckage. It wouldn't be long before it was a downpour. Luna stood up, then, and backed away on legs that were still shaking. Her eyes were red-rimmed and distraught, her face the pallid color of a ghost and dirty beside. Her hair was a tangled mess of reddish-brown that hung in lank, knotted strands down her back and obscured part of her face. She was short - very short - and wearing a dress that was dirty but in far better repair than she herself seemed to be in. It was stained with mud, dirt, leaves, and blood. Not all of that blood was her own. Stay...stay back! You aren't going to touch me, either! Stay back! Her words carried raw emotions, emotion that had been rubbed with salt and left raw and bleeding. Hysteria, of a certain level, fear, and anger. So much anger. It was anger without an object to focus it on, for she lacked the memories to know whom or what to blame for her sorry state. Raw sorcery flickered around her, in and out of existence. It looked like nothing so much as fireflies dancing in the air, except it held a hint of menace that a firfly couldn't even envy, let alone mimic. I...I don't know who you are, or what, but just go! Go around, go away. Be quiet, damn you, I don't care about the confluence! Go and babble to someone else...no, I... She reached up, and took hold of a handful of hair with each hand, and yanked savagely on them. A blood-stained tear rolled from the corner of one eye. Be...be quiet... A harsh whisper. Edited by Luna Moore, Mon Sep 7, 2015 2:36 am.
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| Volare | Sat Sep 12, 2015 4:50 pm Post #7 |
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As Shirine cleared away the burning debris, the acrid smell of the smoke became almost too much. It was potent, that stench of fire and brimstone, but she shook it off as best she could. As soon as she had gotten past the worst of the smoke and the flames, her hood helping her in this, she saw it: a generous supply of mana dancing about, bits and pieces of it floating on the air like ash flying upon the wind. They almost resembled embers, as though they were merely the remnants of some powerful spell. The forest itself had certainly suffered. She could see it now clearly: blackened soil, scorched trees pushed back as though from some sort of massive tailwind, undergrowth completely gone… And in the centre of it all stood a woman now shouting in her obviously maddened state - a human woman. She didn’t think. She didn’t speak. Her eyes hardened, becoming cold and filling with hatred as she drew Ivyn’s Ire from its wardrobe outfit-wrought scabbard. The green-tinged blade of black shimmered in the haze and the light put out by small, nearby fires; but the glowing white stars outshone it all. She held before her, knees slightly bent, ready to attack at a moment’s notice if this human dared try anything. She had seen what humans could do with their words, which were almost always empty. Even here, in Imythess, humans apparently often said things that they did not mean. She had seen it many times in Taras, as observant as she was, and she would not become the prey of this fell creature if she could avoid it. She had grown much in the short time that she had been here. Perhaps it was her training with a sword. Perhaps it was her experiences underground or the rage she had unleashed upon the druids. Perhaps it was simply the anticipation of the growth in power that would allow her to seek vengeance against those who had wronged her, regardless of what that elven elder had said. Whatever it was, she was tougher and stronger than she had been since the war in Gwyllion, and it showed. She would not be taken easily, and if the time came, she would strike this woman down with great prejudice. OOC
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Sat Sep 12, 2015 5:35 pm Post #8 |
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Shirine listened and the words softened her a bit. She could hear the desperation in that voice. It reminded her of her self during her escape from the drow a little. Her mind and body had been a mess so little had made sense. This person had been through something bad and was scarred out of her wits. Volare came up giving off a clear killing intent. Of course this person looked like a human... great the scarred desperate and maybe crazy mage just had to be human. She really had to work with Volare on this anger issue at some point. There trully was simply too many humans for that sort of vengence to be reasonable... eh vengence was not resonable though.... oh forget it. Step one try to calm down the mage and Volare before this escalated into something both would regret. Shirine shifted into her elven form putting a hand on Volare as if to hold her back. She also spoke softly to Volare, "Easy there you don't want to scare mages on a hair trigger. Especially if you don't know what they are capable of. Also she reminds me of when I escaped from the drow and anyone who went through anything close to that deserves at least a small attempt to help them." She hopped Volare would not do anything rash. She crouched down to try and seem less threatening and be more at eye level for the crouching woman. "Easy there my name is Shirine and this is Volare. We won't touch you if you don't want us too. I even promise to leave if you really insist on it. Though you look in bad shape there. I went through something terrible myself and it may not be the same problems as you, but pain is pain. I really truly would like to help if I can. Is that okay with you miss?" Shirine could be surprisingly convincing at times. She was generally blunt and honest. Right then her voice also had a sort of motherly tone right then. It was not always a side that showed up, but she really did care. She hopped the poor woman would listen to her words. If not they could back up and leave. She really disliked fighting mages. Especially unpredictable ones. She was tough and Volare was pretty good at fighting, but it only took one mistake to get really hurt in this line of work. Crazy mages were often one of those mistakes. |
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| Luna Moore | Sat Sep 12, 2015 7:45 pm Post #9 |
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She didn't see the tigress approach, closed in upon herself as she was. She continued to yank her hair, as if the pain could drive the voices that haunted her from her head. It was unfortunate, then, that there was already so much pain wracking her thin frame that a little hair pulling barely amounted to a drop in the bucket. The voices themselves hurt. They were a thunder in her skull, an confused proliferation of words that one and all held no meaning. She didn't think, if she could sift through that cacophony, she could understand what any of them were saying...which didn't matter, because a hundred different voices were speaking in unison, their words, thoughts, and motives at odds with one another. A whimper escaped her....and then they vanished, as quickly as that. Luna had fallen forward, lying on the ground curled in a fetal position. A final defense against what had already managed to push its way beyond her barriers, beyond her defenses...such a pathetic attempt. But then, she had become a pathetic creature, hadn't she? Some could weather the most atrocious of storms and come out the other side smelling of roses. Luna, however, had failed. Fragments of what the tigress - who was no an elven woman - spun back around, as if being recalled. Luna didn't understand how she could have heard the woman, what with all the other babbling voices - which no one but myself can hear, I might add! - but she had managed it. She heard the words....and almost rejected them. She began to laugh, then, a blood curdling sound that went on for a few moments before devolving into a fit of harsh, wet coughing. Rocking back onto her haunches, she hacked hard enough that spots flickered in front of her eyes, and then spat a mouthful of bloody snot into the scorched earth. You know nothing...whatever you are! Elf? Tiger? Something else? The girls thoughts spun wildly. And in that moment, a supremely clear image arrived to her, cold knowledge that had been burned from her memory. A brief flicker, no more, and then gone. He flayed my soul! Tore my spirit to ribbons, and then desecrated my flesh with his foul touch! You don't know! Don't know! A sob escaped her, cutting off her wild words. She looked up, then, dark eyes focusing on the were-tiger, eyes filled with misery of sudden recollection, of pain endured. That slowly changed, as memory faded away. What am I doing here? Who- Her words stopped, cold. Her gaze - red rimmed, haunted - shifted to the fae standing near the were-tiger. Senses, innate to at least half of her blood-line, could detect faint traces of the magical nature of that creture. No name was forthcoming, though - nothing to identify her as. Different, then, from the tigress. Eyes that gleamed like chips of ice even as she drew her blade, and Luna's blood turned to ice, despite the fever-burn of acid running through them. Her own eyes locked on Volare's, then. She could read in those eyes the desire writ plain - violent intent, anger, hatred. Murder. Power seemed to swell around Luna, power that exceeded any mere human's hope of control. With that sudden surge, fresh pain tore through her, and even though she was already on her haunches, she seemed to stagger against the brutality of it. Mother...mother would know of you, whatever you are. Alas...she is not here... Her eyes, windows of exhaustion, darted between the two women arrayed before her. One, offering compassion and a balm for her shattered psyche. The other, offering death. Power swirled, a dark threat that couldn't be seen, but could surely be felt. |
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| Volare | Sun Sep 13, 2015 7:06 pm Post #10 |
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A sneer swept across her features then, one not merely painted upon her lips but written upon every inch of her face. In a way, she had become the very thing she now loathed. They had made her the very thing she now loathed…no…no, not completely. She cared nothing for progress. She was a creature of nature, a child of Chaon, not some worthless human pup deigning to think herself above everyone else. But humans…humans were nasty, filthy, disgusting creatures who cared nothing for those around them. Maddened or not, this woman was nothing to her but a target. Shirine could sense this, it seemed, and she was trying to alleviate the situation. Had she been in a better state of mind at the moment, Volare would have appreciated that fully. But she wasn’t in a better state of mind, and she sharply bit back her aggressive retort as the huddled upon the ground spoke. Volare shifted her shoulders, as though shrugging out of something. She could feel the dark mana herein, twisted and foul, like something a human would have taken from a fae and tainted. They tainted everything they touched! It all turned to death! Well, now she would be nature’s dark knight. She would be the physical embodiment of death, of nature’s wrath. ”She’s human”, Volare spat in her usual Elvish. ”She deserves whatever she got!” But part of her, she almost had to admit - if only to herself - recognized what was happening to this poor woman. She buried that part of herself - or tried to, anyway. But it remained, pricking her like a thorn in the back of her mind. She had experienced what this woman seemed to now be experiencing, both physically and mentally. Her emotions had been the play-thing of humans and drow, and while she had come to distrust drow because of that, humans she had come to see as a plague upon Chaon itself. She kept these thoughts silent. She wasn’t about to show mercy to a sanity-forsaken human. |
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Tue Sep 15, 2015 11:18 pm Post #11 |
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Shirine listened and felt a deep sorrow for this woan. Her pain was deep and fresh. So much like her own dark memories. She had had years to be able to controll her feelings. Intially she had just wanted to lsh out and did try afew times she remmbered. She had jusf been too weak to do so. Her healer had been patient and earned her trust by the time she was well enough to move. Still Iit had takwn so much time until she even trusted people a little. One of the many reasons her relationship with Colare was slow waz because she was afraid on some level. Volare new that pain too, but was still blinded by vengence it seemed. That was alright, but she would stand up for the poor woman. Plus her instincts felt something in the air. This woman was either powerful or not entirely human or both. She spoke in elvish, "VOLARE! Calm down please. You trust me right and my insticts say not to fight this one if we can help it. Can you not feel the air? I am not even sure she is human or maybe just part human. Even if she is there are many types of humans and few are the same. Some good some bad many in the middle. If this one did not harm your people I doubt she deserves your vengence. All I can really know right now is I see her in pain that is terribly deep. You undersrand that sort of pain and so do I. At least give this one a chance. Lower your blade." Shirine hopped that Volare would lower her blade and calm down. She hopped it did not harm their relationship, but Volare could not fight all of human kind. There was just too many. She had had to come to terms with not being able to murder every drow her self. Too much risk and not possible given she was one person . Though in the drow case she had yet to meet even one drow with any scrap of good in them. On the other hand she had a few human friends, so she knew there was good in humans. Shirine turned to Luna try to calm her down as well. Speakong common again, "Easy just try to calm down. I may not know your exact pain, but I was a prisoner in my own body once. Experimented on and my mind and body twisted into something perverse. The pain is unimanginable and twist your inside. Never really goes away either... I escaped and now am doing better. My companion lost her home and people and even a part of herself to human invaders, so she also knows pain. Hers is still fresh much like yours so please forgive her anger. If you are not human or not fully human it may help telling her so. I wish to help and deep down my companion is a good person too. So please let me help you or at the very least tell me your name?" Shirone wanted to hugf the poor woman and comfort her. It hurt seeing deep scars like this so frwsh, but she had to wait until this woman calmed down and let her come close. Forcing it would just end badly. Shirine could smell the storm getting closer. She hopped to calm down both women near her and get them moving soon. She would rather like to stay ahead of the worst of that storm. They might even need to find shelter. The winds were already getting pretty strong ..... |
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| Luna Moore | Thu Sep 17, 2015 1:50 am Post #12 |
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Her eyes darted from one to the other, a mixture of confusion, fear, and growing anger reflected in those dark orbs. Volare's words were falling on deaf ears as, time and again, Luna's eyes returned to the blade in her hands. The thundering pain that radiated through every bit and piece of her increased a notch, and a whimper escaped her - a whimper born of sorcery, for she had no voice of her own. Power swirled around her, laden with fury and fear. I forgive her nothing! She would raise a blade against me, as he has already done time and again! Why can't you leave me alone? Must you hound me to the end of my days, K'rull? Her words were a rasp, her brow beaded with sweat that had begun to run down her forehead. Blood still leaked from her nose, a manifestation of the stress she was putting on a body already rife with wounds that could never heal, or at least never heal properly. She bled mana now, as if that part of her that was Sidhe had taken horrific damage. There was nothing she could do about it, and those wounds perforce created new and dangerous permutations to her abilities. Her eyes and head snapped to the weretiger. When she spoke, her voice held odd harmonics to it. I am half-blooded. In between, neither one or the other - forever shunned for nonconformity. My mother was Sidhe, my father human. Does that satisfy? Did you need to know that so you could cast your designs about me like so many others have tried to do? Plays for my blood and body, for the ancient aspects of sorcery contained therein? I don't know what has happened to you, but one of you has bared a blade upon me, and you are not the first - merely the most recent in a long list. With each word, that insistent beat in the back of her skull grew, until it was almost too much to bear. And then, suddenly, all of that power seemed to...snap. And then vanish. The halo of sorcery surrounding her winked out, and in the plce of assailing pain, an emptiness that was too profound to define slammed into her. Her eyes bulged, her mouth open but without words or sounds issuing forth. A moment later, her eyes rolled up into her head, and she dropped like a marionette with the strings cut. |
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| Volare | Thu Oct 1, 2015 4:29 pm Post #13 |
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She did not trust this woman - how could she?! But she trusted Shirine. That, at least, got her thinking clearly enough to lower her blade. She hesitated before doing so only gradually, until the sword rested at her side; she did not sheath it or loosen her grip but she had come out of her crouch and was at least trying to exhibit some semblance of non-violent intent. She wasn’t entirely certain it was working. The woman’s words were only half-caught by Volare. The fae had picked up a little Common here and there but not enough to hold a conversation. She certainly didn’t recognize the word “Sidhe” but “human” was an obvious one. That almost made her raise her blade again…almost. But she caught “blood” and “body” as well, and she wondered what that meant. She glanced at Shirine, hoping for a translation, but none had time to come - for at that moment, the magic surrounding her flashed like a bomb and winked out of existence. Volare was on her rear end in an instant, startled by the sudden flash of magic. It took her a moment to get back on her feet, at which point her blade was up again immediately. But the woman, it seemed, had collapsed. If it wasn’t some sort of defense mechanism, perhaps something else had happened to her. If it had been her decision, Volare would have left the woman here to die. But it was not her decision, and some small part of her knew that this woman had suffered horribly. She had caught the word “soul” earlier and wondered now whether she hadn’t undergone the same treatment that she had suffered under first the humans and then the drow. It didn’t matter now. She was unconscious. ”What do we do with her now?” she inquired of Shirine. |
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Thu Oct 1, 2015 11:48 pm Post #14 |
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Shirine was glad that Volare lowered her blade. Lisetening to the firl she knew she was half of another race calded sidhe. She did not know the term. Shirine saddly did know about people playing with your mind and body. Her famoky had powerful magic Iin their blood line too. No she undersrood this woman far too well. Then it seemed the woman lost control. Shirine was already nealing and a little more perpared than Volard so she was not effected by he flash that much. She had see this to lesser degrees on mages. A magical overload or burn out. This woman was quite strong... probably a mage of some sort. Of perhaps that was a trait of his Sidhe race. Volare had a simpld question and the answer was simple enough. "Not a lot of choice left. I can't just leave her there when she clearly is in pain and needs help. Like i needed help years ago. So I guess I will carry her and we should find shelter from the storm. Keep an eye out for any good spots. It would be best if we could find a cave where we could start a fire or maybe a large tree hollow. I will carry her for now. Just hope she won't wake up and freak put again." Determine Shirine shifted into her hybrid form and picked up the girl on the ground. Know the area a bit from old bandit hunts as a mercenary she expected to find shelter with in the hour. If there was jo interuption it would In fact it took about forty five minutes to find a large tree with a hollow. It was barely large enough for the three of them a small circle of rocks in which Shirine started a small fire. She had kept some logs wraped in water proof skins in her supplies. It was not much, but hopefully it could be made to last. Shirine also shifted to elf as soon as she put Luna down. She also got out a little food hoping that an offered meal might help the girl (Luna) calm down whwen she woke up. If Luna woke up along the way them Shirine would deal with it the best she could, but would be willing to put Luna down if asked. |
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8:19 AM Jul 11

