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Skeledracona [P, Siln]
Topic Started: Sun Jul 16, 2017 2:03 pm (375 Views)
Dusker
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"No, because the peacock didn't like the tea. I really thought they would get along well." Tighe said, looking up at the sky ahead of him. It was clear of Cascadian airships, at least for the time being. Perhaps the hour before the sun rose was simply a prime time of darkness to sneak down the path with his newly-acquired possessions. Most of the pieces were there, and he managed to get a few extra loaded up that he could use elsewhere, but as long as he could get away with them then he had no complaints.

His left hand held loosely onto the reins connected to his shrouded beasts. Three were equine, the drapings for them easy to acquire. Their hooves clapped softly against the dirt path that they traversed down, lightening the pull for the fourth, and the largest beast. The fourth one, the leader in front of the other three, was definitely not a horse. It held itself like a large snub-nosed bear with tusks, its steps upon the ground falling with heavy padding thuds. The creatures pulling matched the lone rider upon its seat, hooded well and his appearance obscured by shadows. His right hand was draped across his lap, the task of guiding these creatures forward hardly a difficult one.

There were three wagons connected to one another, what they carried was simply too big for a single wagon on a single trip, and the more that Tighe risked life and limb between Cascadia and the others all scrambling for the prize, the greater the chance that he would ultimately lose everything and have merely wasted his time. It was far easier to kill a few smugglers and hitch their wagons to one another. Going downhill, making turns, and of course stopping were a few definite problems with the idea, but the cloaked man had friends in the wagons to help him make sure that everything stayed moving well.

Cascadia and their self-righteous do-gooders would appreciate Duskwalker's new possessions almost less than the dragons, but if they cared so much about their bones then perhaps they should have actually attempted to guard them. It was only a matter of time given the grafting market before people began looking to the legendary creatures bones for ideas. Shave them down and you could get many peoples worth of new limbs, sell them for an incredible markup, and retire early just by knowing how to swap one limb with another.

"No, no, that was when I was still spinning. You remember the caws. No-no, the caws. The caws. The caws. The caws. . ." Tighe repeated the words for a while, always with the same inflection, droning forth but never losing his tone. It was level, repeated, lost within his mind and to the silence of the trees. No crickets, no cicadas, no unbearable heat, but in the distance birds were beginning to stir from their branches and make good on attempts to wake the others up. Once he got to the main road, nobody would question what he was pulling. There were so many odd traders that questioning a lone man and his creatures would be more trouble than it was worth. He could get home and get to work after that.
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Silnimare
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Silnimare had never been this way, at least that she could recall. She had been asked to look into what was going on with Cascadia and the dragon bones. She was not surprised to find that it was greed against restraint and preservation. That seemed to be the route the stories always went every time there was a rare or valuable resource. Someone would want to take all they could, and others would want to keep it pristine. Personally, Silnimare preferred a more moderate approach, but that was above her pay grade, as it were. She had made good time on her journey, owing to the fact that sleep was a thing of the past for her. Still, it seemed that she had not arrived before everyone, as there were numerous tracks leading towards the dragon graveyard. Silnimare understood the value of the bones, but she also saw it as disrespectful and reckless desecration. Rather than rush after the smugglers, she simply decided to stay and wait. Whoever went this way, unless they could fly with their cargo, would have to return the same way.

She stood, unbreathing and steady, in the middle of the road. She pulled the violin to her cheek, and began to play. Her red hair and now-white dress flapped in the wind, the leather corset-style chest plate helping to mitigate it somewhat, but still she stood, playing her melody. A slight smile curled her lips, as she once more plied a craft that she had neglected all too often lately. Her elegantly patterned blindfold hid her eyes, although nasty scars still peeked around the edges. A strange tattoo of an eye adorned her forehead, and a tattoo of a sea dragon wrapped around her right arm, seeming to flash in the light as she played the bow across the strings.

Her echolocation picked up on an approaching cart, or carts, as it were, coming from the draconic graveyard. It seemed to be several carts hooked up together, with three horses and some creature pulling them. She continued to stand her ground, not saying a word as she played, waiting for the other to make the first move. She had the reflexes, if it came to it, if the newcomer was a mite twitchy, cast-first, ask-later type. She centered herself in her music, her body eerily still as she played, an aura of holy power and undeath rolled off of her in a strange mixture.
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Dusker
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". . . The caws. The caws. The caws. The caws. Oh, my cockles are humming to the croaking of a dwarf." The droning of the hooded man came to an abrupt end as something rung out on the faint pre-morning breeze. It began as faint past his words, but it was unmistakable as he continued forth down the path. At first his eyes scanned the sky for any shadows in the dark pouring light onto the world below in a search for humble travelers, but the sound was coming from far lower, "What? No! It's. . . Oh, I suppose you're right."

Not in the sky but instead on the path was a shadowy figure, glowing like a ghost with a white dress. It glowed in other ways, too, a type rare outside of a very particular area of the world, or at least a very particular area of Imythess. It was the appearance of unlivingness, a distinct glow not of any servant or simple abandoned undead but a very particular kind. Blasphemous creature, pseudo-immortality through necromancy, will and mana turned inwards to constantly piece the body back together, but it was not true immortality, living immortality. It was a corpse, strong-willed, stubborn, refusing to rot in the ground, no pulse to its veins, no breath to its lungs, no shudder to the cold, no quiver to the heat, no exhaustion in the run. Yet it was mixed with holy power, a faint touch of life from a highplanar of the Celestial variety. This was a particularly more potent combination, as if those other kind were a failed alchemical solution and this one was mixed to perfection. It was actually quite alluring like a glowing mushroom.

"Did I spin at the Deep?" The necromancer asked, unsure of why such a phenomenon was so out of place. He could always tell what was real from what was fake by the flow of the mana filtered through the bodies. There was definitely a person in the road before him like a lost bard.

"The sun sure is cold today!" Tighe called out to the figure ahead of his beasts with a voice practically echoing off of itself as he gave an enthusiastic wave with the right sleeve of his cloak. It was in his path, but neither he nor his beasts paid mind to such a minor thing. It was alone, perhaps confused and playing a dirge of direction. It would move or become trampled, or perhaps even decide to hitch a ride to proper directions. He did not care which, and actually having such a thing accompanying him even for a time could be nice.
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Silnimare
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Silnimare smiled, although she did not immediately cease her music, nor turn her head to face the necromancer. He made some passing remark about the weather, and confusion, which Sil supposed was to be expected. She wasn't, after all, the most humdrum of people. She pondered her options, as this person was literally carting off bones, but his abilities were unknown, and he had some sort of beast in front of the horses. Time, perhaps, to gather some intel.

She finally lowered her violin, putting in the sleeve on her back as they drew closer, and asked, "I don't suppose you could give a blind traveler a lift? These roads are strange these days."

She smiled slightly, her tone cordial. She couldn't be sure what was going on, but she had her theories. That, however, would depend on the next few minutes, and the stranger.
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Dusker
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"Wait-- no, yes?! Why would you say that?! Just a ghost under the spotlight. No, no, no, YES!" Dusker doubled over forward after the player spoke, his head feeling like it was spinning as he clutched onto his arm, but the beasts ahead showed no concern for was was going on with the driver, nor for the woman before them. They had their job to do, and so they would do it, with or without anybody at least until they decided to do something else. The necromancer sat back up with a half-laughing sound, calling out into the night at the stranger on the path, "I'll see what you can't see if you ride next to me! Hurry, hurry, hurry! The sun is going to get angry if you keep it waiting!"

He slapped the seat beside him with a few deep thuds. Not skeletal before him, questionably spectral, not wrapped in bandages, seeming unlike a warrior, and most likely unlike himself, this was something with potential, somebody who had enough of a connection with death to subvert it but without a sight of death lurking on the horizon. A ghost or a blasphemous thing. Maybe something else, maybe one of those people from across the water, but they always seemed like social people not to be found alone. When she got on, he would give her room, but stare at her. Could she tell that he was staring or not, he wondered. He rocked a little from side to side, happy to have a new friend to commune with rather than the whispers in his brain.

"Flowing in the wind in a bedsheet. How did you DIE?!" He asked bluntly, getting a good look at the sight of death beside him. It was definitely what he considered a conversation starter.
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Silnimare
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Silnimare was slightly taken aback by the stranger's unusual speech. She had never been asked about her death, and she wasn't entirely sure how to answer, much less, how to bring up the subject of the bones.

"Well, um... I died when a blade of ice pierced my chest, and tore my lungs and heart in two, filling the wound with chunks of broken bones from my ribs. But then I suppose few people have a pleasant death, especially those of us that still walk. If I may question in return, what's the story with the bones back there? There's an awful lot of them."
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Dusker
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"Shh, they're sleeping. Being alive for so long took a lot out of them. You have to be careful when waking them up or else they'll SNAP!" Dusker laughed following his punctuation, finding nothing off about the stranger knowing about the bones that he was pulling along, "Waking them up on the wrong side of breathing can make them grumpy, you should know that. They could get so hungry without a stomach."

As for what she said about her death, it definitely sounded interesting to him. He was actually hoping that the death had something to do with the way that she looked, but alas it seemed that she might have been an oddity of death far longer than he had known her for, "A cold-blooded taste of pain accompanied by the song of freeing marrow! It sounds wonderful."
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Silnimare
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Silnimare laughed.

"I'm not so sure about the 'wonderful' part, as the way to that end was painful and slow. In the end, though, willpower is an amazing thing."

She turned, and fixed her blind gaze upon the cart, lost in thought for a moment.

"I have to say, seems like an awful lot of dragon bones for one necromancer's usage. I would hazard a guess that this is more of business venture, of sorts?"

Her expression was blank. One of the perks of being undead, as well as a disciplined Seer of the Mind, she could hide her emotions much easier than most.
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Dusker
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"A slow dance to the rhythm of a crackling song lit to the cold glow of swimming agony resonating in your soul." The hooded madman swayed gently with his sing-songy words, humming slightly to accentuate it as he grabbed his arm with the right in a tight grip, but the voices in his head warned him against that. They sung a chorus of dissuasion and he released his armor from the sleeved grip his mighty right with a sharp inhale.

If he was an arm shorter before he woke the bones up, then he could not do it properly or quite as fast. It was tempting to indulge himself in that old familiar sting, but he had to stay focused on what shreds of reality he definitely recognized. They needed their friend up and awake and they would prefer their friend awake sooner rather than later.

"No singing and dancing now, though. Somebody's going to set the moon on fire again." He whimpered slightly and shook his head with sharp gestures before settling his empty gaze upon the blinded corpse that looked like it had been graced by the bird-peoples' influence. He gripped his right arm with his left hand tightly, his eyes sharpening as he learned towards the corpse beside him, "I'm doing this for my close friend. He wants me to meet one of his brothers, but we have to wake them up first."
Edited by Dusker, Wed Sep 20, 2017 1:08 am.
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Silnimare
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Silnimare hesitated, unsure of her motivations after this revelation. If it was a dragon requesting the bones of their fallen kin, would that still be against the natural order of things? She was somewhat uncomfortable with the brazen mention of such gross necromancy, but she could help but wonder, was there really any wrongdoing being committed here?

"So if I am to understand you correctly, another dragon is requesting that you animate these bones for a meeting of sorts?"
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Dusker
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"A dragon? No dag-gone drag-on dragging on any longer. My friend's brother needs to wake up so I can meet him, but if he wakes up wrong then he'll get grumpy and hungry." Dusker said, laughing at the idea of a silly little dragon being woken up so that it could breathe its morning breath at unsuspecting victims and stink up the days. What he had to wake up was something else entirely, something far more grand, and those unused and discarded things were just prime clothes as a nice gift for the world's new guest, "I need to wake him up just right. If he's hungry and grumpy, well. . . well, well, well, we spin away or else the tomatoes ripen. The power of Will can only get so far, not when mine, my friend, and his bother all are anxious to wake him up and show him this dirt and stone and water and so much more."

Dusker paused, completely tuning out the world for a moment. His head tilted within its hood to look down at his disproportionate right arm. It was silent but he could hear it clear as day, telling him that there was no way for a stranger to understand, that if somebody wanted answers then the only way was to see if they were as stable as he was.

"Shhh, my friend wants to meet you." Dusker chuckled, raising his right hand high into the air and shaking the cloth of it, fingers working beneath it to crawl its way into open air from the stuffy trappings of keeping others minds at ease. It resembled an arm only in the vaguest sense of the word.

The arm was pitch black yet shined in the moonlight despite its coarse and rough surface, covered with ridged spikes of varying sizes, a limb that seemed like thousands of smaller tendrils had grown from the shoulder to make a cohesive structure that just recently becoming covered and connected with an almost chitinous skin over the thicker bunches. It had digits at the end, three grasping clawed and spiked fingers and three short tentacles all of which writhed impatiently. By the standards of a five-digit hand, the middle and ring fingers were tentacles with another on the opposite side of the hand from the thumb. Protruding from the outside of the forearm was a hemispheric bulge surrounded by an array of larger spikes with a line running across it as if it were meant to open. On the top of the hand and the outside of the bicep just above the elbow were clear orbs, almost mistakable to the sighted as craters in set in the flesh which closed over them occasionally. Over the shoulder, or perhaps it may have even been the shoulder, was unmistakably a closed mouth lined with grey spikes as teeth meant specifically for gnashing.

"Dead woman, this is Lzhacthau." Dusker introduced the arm as he lowered it.
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Silnimare
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If Silnimare had not been undead, she might have blanched at the sight before her. This limb was a monstrosity, and coming from a creature such as herself, that's saying something.

"Yeeeeaaaah, that's an interesting... friend you have there."

Her augmented senses were blaring every possible alarm that this thing was not natural or good news. She continued, her expression calm, but her voice was somewhat shaky.

"I can't say that I approve. Unfortunately, I haven't been honest with you, completely. I came here to investigate the theft of dragon bones, and I cannot justify this. I hope you forgive me."


Her skin became slick and moist like water, and a thin frost revealed itself on her pale skin. She calmly slipped her hands into the steel gloves than hung from her hip, her intentions beginning to become clear.
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Dusker
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"Oh no, you're melting. Has the moon caught aflame so soon or have the angels and the devils in your casket gotten too frisky?" Dusker wondered as he noted the frost and the slick water on her pale flesh. She grabbed for some steel gloves that hung from her waist, and though the man beneath the hood was confused and still, Lzhacthau had already done this as a test of this one's resolve.

Oh, whatever her intentions were, they did not align with Lzhacthau's plans. The teeth upon its shoulder parted for a guttural and furious sound. The monstrous arm pivoted about as the bulge in its forearm parted its double sets of eyelids to glare at her with a gaze it knew she could not perceive fully. The arm, not the man, cast a spell upon this corpse to halt its movements for a moment. In that moment, Lzhacthau would strike, extending quickly through the blind woman and towards the ground, a blade of grey bone-like substance protruded from the palm of the hand to impale her to the earth.

It neither expected nor wanted to end her, but rather to nullify her as a problem to intercede its plans. Even something like her should not be able to withstand such proximity to its farplanar presence for long.

"What? What? What? What have you done? What are you doing?" Dusker called out in a panic as the arm dragged him after its lunge, retracting him closer to the newly-appointed obstacle.

ooc
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Silnimare
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Silnimare heard the guttural proclamation of the parasite, it began to pivot towards her, and she felt the magic reach out to her, finding no purchase on her celestial-blessed frame. She flipped herself backwards, holding to the top of the back of the seat, her metal-clad fingers cracking the wood slightly, and she uttered a spell,

"Water, bear me hence."

She felt a blast of water propel her into the sky, before looking down and realized. The bone had caught her leg, which had severed on the thigh.

Well, crap. I was planning on using that. Oh, well, it'll come back sooner or later.

Two wings that looked as though they were made of diamonds sprung from her back, keeping her aloft, about twenty-five feet above this strange abomination. She held her hands up, and the clouds became thicker and darker as she concentrated, holy energy suffusing her magic. Rain began to fall from the sky, capable of burning foes like acid, reflecting their spells back upon them, and causing them to dwell on past misdeeds with regret.

It took a bit out of the semi-angelic spell-fist, but clearly her opponent was not messing around. Still, she was wary, and trying to make sure she could outlast this stranger.


OOC
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Dusker
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The rain may have burned, but neither the madman nor the arm felt the sting of it. His gaze rose to follow the corpse that flew high into the sky on wings of crystallized being while the arm grumbled furiously while gripping the leg it had managed to capture.

"What?" Dusker had to check again to see what was being muttered, to know the thoughts of his arm. He was scared and confused, but the words made sense to him.

"Oh, that would be sickening." He realized, and turned to leap back into his seat on the lead wagon. There could be no time to waste if this was what he had to deal with. The light of the sky was completely gone to the darkness up above, but it would not deter him. If anything, it gave him more hope that he would not have to worry about the sky burning above.

The reigns to the leading beasts cracked like whips at the behest of his natural arm and he spat nonsense in their direction to urge them to move faster than their prior pace. Little by little their speed picked up before they were clamboring forth at the influence of the lumbering leader that used its impressive might for most of the weight. From beneath the cloak of one of the following beasts, flames peeked out, trailing and illuminating the ground, but not quite setting anything aflame

There was no time to play with the blind woman. The friend needed to be awoken properly, and it was simply too much to fit through a gate. Everything needed to go properly or else it may very well turn grumpy upon knowing its form was so improper.
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