SkyGinge
Sad Shroom
Western Group
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Fantasy ~Magistone: Western IC Group~
- Thread starter SkyGinge
- Start date
SkyGinge
Sad Shroom
~Chapter One: Convergence~
Aliak in all its bustling splendour. The mountain crown, the city's natural defence, was alive with foliage; from the lilac heathers to emerald pines, the jagged, sunburnt stones and the waterfalls which flowed like liquid diamond. Inside its famous walls, the evening was buzzing with the happy vibes of life. A gaggle of children screamed in delight, their parents calling after them. The last street merchants packed up shop, still haggling the early evening crowds. Aliak was unique.
In all his travels, Lyram had found a strange habit of seeing places as people. The western fishing villages, with their stubborn old huts, their cock-eyed elders and their self-imposed seclusion: they were aged ex-soldiers. Grumpy, self-sufficient, and full of tales of the old days. Aliak, his Aliak, was a young man in his glory days.
Lyram sighed, and leant his head against his muscular arm. From the stained-glass window of his humble throne room, bare save for the peasants chair he had personally chosen, he could survey the entire city. That chair had a personality too; he remembered buying it from a desperate farmer fifteen years previously when the crops had failed. One of the legs was chipped, and the entire thing was uneven, but Lyram had never much cared for luxuries. He had decreed to live as did his people, free from the distraction of wealth.
Everything had its story. And his was about to end.
"You called, sire?" The voice of his loyal advisor, Jonveng. The man had a voice so fast it seemed like it was trying to outrun itself. He was young, for an advisor; only in his mid-twenties, but oh so smart. And the voice of the generation Lyram knew he'd never quite understand.
"Yes, I did," Lyram boomed, the words interlaced with a hefty sigh. "Jonveng, take a seat." Jonveng took a seat with the calmness of a panicked squirrel. He always overworked himself, that boy. A trait shared by the both of them.
"Jonveng, I know this will sound like a peculiar question, but honour this old man. Tell me, am I a good king?"
"Of course sire! You are loved by all, and your achievements Are matchless on their magnitude. I can think of no man better suited to sit on the throne as you do."
"I should hope I do a bit more than sit around all day like a hereditary ornament, but thank you," Lyram had not moved a muscle since the advisors entry; he may as well have been a statue, his steely blue eyes were so focussed on the outside world.
"Of course sire, my sincerest apologies sire." Jonveng's voice caught its foot on his tongue. A pause, then: "Is anything bothering you, sire?"
"Bothering, hmm? Well... no. Nothing I can't solve, anyway."
"Of course, sire, I'm sorry, sire," Jonveng hurriedly replied, his voice almost comically hoarse in his needless apologies. The adviser had served him long enough to know such apologies were unnecessary, but Lyram had also grown to know that reminding him of this fact was equally pointless.
The King's face twitched minutely, a sign a friend would have recognised as worry, rare indecision.
"Jonveng," his tone had changed, "can you do something for me? Double the castle guard tonight."
"O-of course sire!" And then, more cautiously: "Is there any particular reason for this sudden defensive reinforcement?" He leant forward inquisitively, long eyebrow quivering like a taut string.
It felt like an eternity before the King spoke again. "I hope I never have to tell you. That is all."
"Very good, sire." Jonveng rose to leave.
"Oh, and Jonveng," the king called, "You have been a most fantastic associate. I could not have wished for a more reliable young man."
"Th-thanks, sire." Surprise had a strange affect on the advisor; his normal hurriedness inverted to a more sedate exit, and he closed the door behind him to leave a happy king entranced by his kingdom alone.
~
'Twas dark, and nought but the roars of the loudest tavern-goers reached the ears of King Lyram. If, by some miracle of magic, you could have watched him in that simple throne room, you'd have wondered if he'd as much as twitched all evening, so unmoving was his countenance.
The slight creak of the door behind him. It must be the wind, Lyram told himself.
But then, no! How could the wind get into a room without an open window? Cursed if I'll be damned to a weary mis-decision, Lyram thought.
Rising to his feet, Lyram turned, summoning a marvellous orb of shimmering white between his huge hands. But upon site of the intruder, he released it, the white energy dissolving into invisibility. "It's only you," he sighed. "I thought it was-"
The figure thrust both arms forward, and the shadows of the dim room rose at his command. The King was so surprised that he did not have the chance to react when this wall of perilous shadow smashed him backwards through the castle's iconic stained-glass window.
As the king plunged in a rain of rainbow shards, white mane jostling around his wrinkled face, he was completely still. Accepting his inevitable fate.
Lyram felt his body shatter against the courtyard floor.
Darkness fell.
~Three Weeks Later...~
Man, dead. Age: mid-to-late thirties. Cause of death: plummeting from a cliff. Occupation: who gives a damn? But I'll be taking this, thank you!
"Ka-Ching," Joachim grinned, and attached his latest knife to his belt. Now, what else could this delightful specimen offer him? He threw the body onto its side. His tunic could've done with replacing, but something about the idea of wearing a tunic coated in another man's coat wasn't particularly appealing to the self-professed criminal. Ew, no thanks. As for respecting the dead? Bah! The dead could bury themselves; and besides, Joachim reasoned this fella must've been a right ignoramus to fall to his death in such a clumsy manner.
The tide lapped at the shore with its salty tongue, and the air was tinged with a homely scent. The cliffs and beaches stretched on in a crescent arc across Valia's west coast; 'quite picturesque', he imagined one of his old snobby professors would have said. Joachim was central Valian, born and bred, but the abandoned cellar which had served as his hideout for the previous two years had held this same seaside scent. The salted meat, probably; the bartender was so blind he never even noticed Joachim's redecorations. Or maybe he was just too stealthy and clever. The latter was certainly a tasty possibility; yum!
Either way, it'd been hell trying to find bodies to loot, surprisingly enough, considering it was supposed to be a freakin' apocalypse. Joachim has followed his heart and instincts as ever, and the ungrateful organ had dragged him all the way to the God-forsaken west. Where was he running to, eh?
But Joachim Crowe does not run! As if to prove his defiance, he cast his gaze out to sea and laughed at the top of his voice.
There was a crack in the foliage above the cliff, and the mighty Joachim Crowe jumped like a rabbit. Regaining his senses, he gripped a dagger and eyed the cliff face, listened intently. Silence; nought a sound but the sound of the sound. A woodland critter, most likely. Those blasted blaggards have it in for me, I swear. Content, he carefully removed his hand and turned to continue along the beach.
A dark shape shot from the foliage and landed on the beach in front of him, snarling. The shadow dog growled, stood its ground for a moment. What would the mighty Joachim Crowe do to return the challenge?
Scream like a little girl, that was what; his ear-piercing screech echoed across the shingle. Maybe this time, to his embarrassment, somebody would actually be around to hear it.
| The RP is open!It is important you read the |
| updates thread for more details on our starting objectives! @cojemo @Kyte @Quill @Epiphany @Kharmin @TheDragonMoon @grey988 |
| New Objective!A pack of shadow dogs has arrived at the cliffs near where your character was travelling! You may choose to find yourself attacked, or heard Joachim's |
| manly scream and rush into the action that way. You can fight them on the cliffs, on the beaches or in the nearby forests. But wherever you choose, you have a fight on your hands! |
@grey987
Kharmin
Moon Pie Maven
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3909f760_Stephen_50.jpg.2ec8d6e9a5d9caeab58eef53dff7e721.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="64357" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3909f760_Stephen_50.jpg.2ec8d6e9a5d9caeab58eef53dff7e721.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Stephen stood at the top of the cliff and scowled at the unending sea that stretched out before him. Another dead end. It was becoming all too common of late. Ever on the run, Stephen hadn't had anything that passed for a decent meal or decent night's sleep in some time – the Shadow King's forces literally hounding him at all hours.
Stephen had used some of his earth magic talent to drop shadow hounds into deep pits or to erect barriers tall and wide enough to gain him some time, but his limited ability sorely taxed his stamina and most recently he had resorted to actually fighting the damn things.
He was a pretty good swordsman and, in time, the shadow hounds learned not to attack him without significantly superior numbers. Still, it had been a few days since his last encounter with the most recent pack that tracked him, so Stephen had thought that he had finally ... well, out distanced them. Now, however, he was trapped against the sea and he knew that they would eventually come to collect him.
Time for a new plan, Stephen thought as he knew that standing and brooding at the sea would precisely get him nowhere. He scanned the cliff to the left and right and, with no real indication otherwise, randomly chose left.
The shriek from the shoreline below snapped him to readiness. What in the Hells? he thought as he sprinted along the top of the cliff in the direction of the panicked scream. He hadn't seen anyone else in more than a week ... well, no one alive anyway ... and the piercing shriek clearly needed some kind of help.
Stephen skidded to a halt at the top of the cliff and looked down. Another fellow was facing off against a shadow hound and by the looks of things the man was seriously outmatched. Movement caught his eye and Stephen saw two more hounds scrambling down the cliff toward their prey.
Instinctively, Stephen clambered down the cliff as he used his earth magic to alter the cliff-face to give him a quick, safe decent. As his leather boots crunched on the sandy beach, he reached over his shoulder and drew his bastard sword. "HEY!" he hollered at the hounds to get their attention from their quarry. "Over here, you bastards!" he taunted as he continued forward in a steady, unyielding pace. "I'm the one you've been tracking. Come and get me!"
@SkyGinge
Stephen had used some of his earth magic talent to drop shadow hounds into deep pits or to erect barriers tall and wide enough to gain him some time, but his limited ability sorely taxed his stamina and most recently he had resorted to actually fighting the damn things.
He was a pretty good swordsman and, in time, the shadow hounds learned not to attack him without significantly superior numbers. Still, it had been a few days since his last encounter with the most recent pack that tracked him, so Stephen had thought that he had finally ... well, out distanced them. Now, however, he was trapped against the sea and he knew that they would eventually come to collect him.
Time for a new plan, Stephen thought as he knew that standing and brooding at the sea would precisely get him nowhere. He scanned the cliff to the left and right and, with no real indication otherwise, randomly chose left.
The shriek from the shoreline below snapped him to readiness. What in the Hells? he thought as he sprinted along the top of the cliff in the direction of the panicked scream. He hadn't seen anyone else in more than a week ... well, no one alive anyway ... and the piercing shriek clearly needed some kind of help.
Stephen skidded to a halt at the top of the cliff and looked down. Another fellow was facing off against a shadow hound and by the looks of things the man was seriously outmatched. Movement caught his eye and Stephen saw two more hounds scrambling down the cliff toward their prey.
Instinctively, Stephen clambered down the cliff as he used his earth magic to alter the cliff-face to give him a quick, safe decent. As his leather boots crunched on the sandy beach, he reached over his shoulder and drew his bastard sword. "HEY!" he hollered at the hounds to get their attention from their quarry. "Over here, you bastards!" he taunted as he continued forward in a steady, unyielding pace. "I'm the one you've been tracking. Come and get me!"
@SkyGinge
Attachments
Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
Empty. Half a dozen bodies, not nearly as many fisherfolk as should be here. But otherwise empty.
"That's it then," Rue said, hitching her belt up a little, still growing accustomed to the weight of the steel longsword dragging on her side. "The last place served by the Wise Ones. There's no one left. Maybe no one left in all of Valia..."
The black-haired woman tucked her soldier's coat closed about her as she walked out of the small cove and onto the beach itself, just uphill from where the Nant Dwr joined the ocean. Rue turned grey eyes the color of the stormy sky to the west towards that western front, looking at the turbulent waters and the devastating storms all-too-common off-shore. Even the fisherfolk never left sight of land, no matter the season. There was nowhere left to go.
"Except Aliak," she murmured out-loud. "Perhaps it stood, somehow, against these monsters. There are legends of its magical academies...maybe their Magicians turned back this foe."
Rue turned back to face the fishing village hidden in its cove and, beyond it, the path she'd taken to get here. It would take weeks to get there and even the hard bread she had left for trail food wouldn't likely make it all the way there. Sooner or later, she'd need to try hunting in the empty wastes of Valia. At least she hadn't run into any-
That singular scream caught her attention, drawing Rue's grey gaze up north along the beach. Squinting, she made out the figure of a man and something else. A shadow? Like a dog? Some kind of hunting hound? That was definitely a cry of distress.
Cupping her hands over her mouth, Rue shouted "Here! Run here!" towards the distant figure. Her voice echoed out and down the beach, reverberating off of the walls of the cove as well. Then one of the huts burst open, yielding a massive dark mastiff more shadow than substance.
Eyes going wide at the sight of a monster she'd never seen, Rue's hand flashed to her waist and drew the steel sword in one fluid motion. And then she braced herself to meet the monster's charge.
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SkyGinge
Sad Shroom
Enemy Data!
Name: Shadow Dogs
Appearance: The size and shape of a wolf or large hound, but instead of wearing a familiar coat of fur, their bodies are made out of an ugly mix of dark matter, purple, black and dark blue. They have no eyes or discernible features aside from the ugly mass.
Battle Abilities: They fight using the same abilities as regular wolves; bites and scratches with their jaws and claws. Though they are fairly easy to fight alone, they travel in large packed, and so it is easy to be overwhelmed by them if surrounded. Similarly, being made entirely of dark matter, they are impervious to the effects of pain and stamina, which, when coupled with their speed, makes them good scouts.
Battle Weaknesses: Alone, they are fairly easy to dispatch with a few slices of a sword (upon defeat they dissolve into a peculiar lilac-shade of gas). It's only when approached by, say, more than six of them that you find yourself in real danger. Their battle plan is brutality and brutality alone, so you can be sure they won't try a sudden tactic other than dash and snarl. They have no particular weaknesses to certain elements of magic, but magic does effect their bodies as it would natural flesh. They are, for all intense and purposes, rabid wolves but with the added no-stamina-no-pain stuff.
The beast continued to advance, undeterred by his raw cowardice genius scare tactic. Did it not feel pity? Would it not back down from fighting a weaker foe? "You dishonourable fiend!" Joachim muttered, clutching one of his many knives, "How dare thou challengest thine to a duel without intending proper conduct! Where's your sense of honour, eh dogsbreath? Hmm? Heh?" Humourless swine, Joachim cursed, perhaps genuinely surprised that joking it to death seemed to be a non-effectual strategy.
He was just considering a Plan B when some long haired pansy turned up and made some grandiose comment about how they were tracking him all along. "Well that's fricking brilliant now isn't it, Blondey," Joachim yelled, "I suppose you're going to tell me the sun and the moon and all the twinkling little stars orbit you as well, eh? Can't you leave a man to the dignity of being hunted down?"
The shadow dog snarled and leapt at him. "Oi, shut up, you!" he shouted, and instinctively his arm swing to his belt. Almost instantly, a blade was flying towards the beast's ugly maw, and just like that, Joachim felt himself whomped by the beast's flailing carcass. He was knocked back onto the beach, a surprisingly spiky surface for how much it was enticing him to strip off and swim free. Cursing under his breath, he hauled the creature off of him and examined his handiwork. A knife, right through where he presumed its brain was. Not so bad, Joachim my lad, he smirked, tentatively removing the blade. But now it was all smeared an icky purple; it'd be a nightmare trying to wash all that off. Again.
The creature dissolved into that strange purple gas, faded into oblivion. There was something strangely satisfying about that; perhaps the lack of guilt of seeing a body felled by his own hand. He turned back to the other dogs, but they seemed to have been distracted by Blondey after all. Which, for all his complaints, was fair enough; something gave him the impression Blondey had a bit more balls than himself. Well, if he wants a grisly, dog-shaped demise then he can go ahead.
Then another cry echoed across the bay, and Joachim had to concentrate very hard to not jump like a jack-rabbit again. A female voice; Joachim grinned. When was the last time he'd seen a girl, dead or live? She'd better be a hottie, he mused, turning back to Blondey briefly. "Sorry to leave ya, buddy, but it's poor sport to disobey a lady. Good luck, and all!"
With a cheeky wave, Joachim jogged in the direction of the town, trying his best to ignore the sound of more beast leaping from the cliffs around him...
@Kharmin @Epiphany
Kharmin
Moon Pie Maven
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3963bece_Stephen_50.jpg.9784ed0beaa56096c37a14f0c25413e6.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="64614" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3963bece_Stephen_50.jpg.9784ed0beaa56096c37a14f0c25413e6.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Stephen silently cursed as the two, new hounds cut across his path. He fervently hoped that the fellow down the beach could manage the one on his own as Stephen would not be able to cover the distance in time. Focus, he told himself as the shadow beasts bounded toward him.
He came to a stop, intent to meet the enemy on his own terms rather than hurtling headlong amongst them. Experience had taught Stephen that he would easily defeat one creature on his own, but in numbers the exertion became exponentially more difficult. With a glance toward the one on his left, he cast his hand, palm down, in a short arc in front of him as he channeled his connection to his element. Beneath the charging hound, the ground immediately softened such that the animal sank almost to its chest in a mire of quicksand. It was all Stephen could afford to do as the second shadow hound was practically on top of him.
His blue eyes cut away from the hound that foundered in the soft sand and with singular resolution both man and steel deftly moved aside from the charge. As the hound skittered past, Stephen sliced down across its haunches. The satisfactory sound of bones crunching from the impact brought a slight sneer to his lips. He whipped his sword free as the hound whelped and tumbled chaotically in a heap several yards from him. It tried to stand, but its rear legs no longer responded to its efforts. Stephen took a few, long strides toward the hound as it snarled and gnashed it sizable teeth at him. A large, clawed paw swatted at Stephen as he came close to the hound's reach, but Stephen simply knocked it aside with his blade which was thirsty for more of the creature's blood. With a quick maneuver, he parried a second strike and buried the broadsword into the hound's throat. Blood curdled and bubbled out of the beast's mouth as it tried to howl at the fatal blow. Stephen wrenched his sword free and turned his back to his conquered foe, unconcerned as it disintegrated into a cloudy, purple mist.
The second hound had finally found purchase on more stable ground and charged Stephen who stood, patiently waiting for it. As before, Stephen lightly side-stepped the assault, only this time he brought his blade horizontal along the beast's side as it passed. The sharpened steel easily sliced through the hound as its momentum carried it bodily along its length. Like its comrade, the hound rolled several yards beyond Stephen where it, too, disappeared in a cloud.
Stephen's blonde hair whipped as he spun around with the maneuver and he came to a stop facing toward the one who had cried for help ... only to see the man running away.
He relaxed his tensed muscles from the combat, but kept his sword in hand. Where there were three hounds, there were certain to be more, especially with two survivors in such close proximity. With his free hand, Stephen shielded his eyes from the sun and peered toward the direction that the man was fleeing. In the distance, it appeared there was yet another person who was engaged with at least one more shadow hound.
Yep, he thought to himself as he set off at a run toward the others. Knew there'd be more.
@SkyGinge @Epiphany
He came to a stop, intent to meet the enemy on his own terms rather than hurtling headlong amongst them. Experience had taught Stephen that he would easily defeat one creature on his own, but in numbers the exertion became exponentially more difficult. With a glance toward the one on his left, he cast his hand, palm down, in a short arc in front of him as he channeled his connection to his element. Beneath the charging hound, the ground immediately softened such that the animal sank almost to its chest in a mire of quicksand. It was all Stephen could afford to do as the second shadow hound was practically on top of him.
His blue eyes cut away from the hound that foundered in the soft sand and with singular resolution both man and steel deftly moved aside from the charge. As the hound skittered past, Stephen sliced down across its haunches. The satisfactory sound of bones crunching from the impact brought a slight sneer to his lips. He whipped his sword free as the hound whelped and tumbled chaotically in a heap several yards from him. It tried to stand, but its rear legs no longer responded to its efforts. Stephen took a few, long strides toward the hound as it snarled and gnashed it sizable teeth at him. A large, clawed paw swatted at Stephen as he came close to the hound's reach, but Stephen simply knocked it aside with his blade which was thirsty for more of the creature's blood. With a quick maneuver, he parried a second strike and buried the broadsword into the hound's throat. Blood curdled and bubbled out of the beast's mouth as it tried to howl at the fatal blow. Stephen wrenched his sword free and turned his back to his conquered foe, unconcerned as it disintegrated into a cloudy, purple mist.
The second hound had finally found purchase on more stable ground and charged Stephen who stood, patiently waiting for it. As before, Stephen lightly side-stepped the assault, only this time he brought his blade horizontal along the beast's side as it passed. The sharpened steel easily sliced through the hound as its momentum carried it bodily along its length. Like its comrade, the hound rolled several yards beyond Stephen where it, too, disappeared in a cloud.
Stephen's blonde hair whipped as he spun around with the maneuver and he came to a stop facing toward the one who had cried for help ... only to see the man running away.
He relaxed his tensed muscles from the combat, but kept his sword in hand. Where there were three hounds, there were certain to be more, especially with two survivors in such close proximity. With his free hand, Stephen shielded his eyes from the sun and peered toward the direction that the man was fleeing. In the distance, it appeared there was yet another person who was engaged with at least one more shadow hound.
Yep, he thought to himself as he set off at a run toward the others. Knew there'd be more.
@SkyGinge @Epiphany
Attachments
grey987
Man of the Shadows
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c398b9ff0_ResizedVane.jpg.6bf11edd49131a9512a012d347367108.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="64734" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c398b9ff0_ResizedVane.jpg.6bf11edd49131a9512a012d347367108.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> He was close. Or at least, he felt that he had to be. Vane honestly couldn't even be sure of where he was wandering to at times; it would often seem as though he really had no set destination to bear in mind, and that he was just roaming through an endless wilderness for the sake of being able to keep his life for as long as he was feasibly able to. He was quite weary from his travels and desired for somewhere to rest for a little while, but he knew that he did not yet have that luxury. Hell, it was never really a luxury in the first place. Even if he was fully capable of defending himself- which he was- sleeping in the forests and wastelands of Valia was still a dangerous thing to do when he was currently travelling about on his lonesome, with the threat of the Dark Druids lingered ever present in the air. No one could ever suspect where or when they were going to attack, and one little moment of weakness could spell the end of any survivor who desperately tried to remain a little longer in the world.
If only there were a clearing to aid with guiding me to the village... Instead I have to keep making assumptions based on the environment around me, and not even that is really helping me. Vane's boots continued to crunch against fallen leaves and branches amidst the otherwise empty silence that had been there to accompany him for so long, step after step in one direction that he didn't even know would lead him to the place he was aiming to get to. To the best of his knowledge, there was a small residence here that went by the name of "Haern Awyr Newydd", and he'd decided to head there sometime back in order to try and determine if there were any surviving mages taking refuge there before going to the next nearest town to do the same thing. It was a tedious and exhausting process for him, but he needed a goal to focus on, so that was it. There wouldn't at all be a hope of retaking the kingdom if he couldn't even find living people in the land first, a possibility that he was beginning to believe didn't even exist anymore.
But new life was brought to that possibility when suddenly, unexpectedly, a shrill and terrified scream pierced through the air some distance in front of Vane.
What the...? That can't be. Is that really...? Even the sound of his own voice was foreign to him; to hear someone else's... It made him feel rather excited on the inside, but also cautious of what he was to find once he investigated the source of the noise. The trudging of his feet very quickly evolved into a fast jog that bordered on a sprint, cutting through trees and foliage on either side of him to get to the location of the sound. Vane's steps slowed to a stop once he reached the edge of a cliff, and in front of his line of sight appeared a seemingly empty beachside town with several huts littered along the shore. He scanned along the length of the area for a little while, until his emerald-green eyes were able to settle on a long and blond haired man who had just begun to engage with a duo of shadow hounds while a younger looking boy jogged away from them and towards the small village, clearly wanting to avoid any sort of trouble.
One person is enough of a surprise on its own... But two... Vane was soon brought out of his thoughts when he heard a guttural snarl sound off behind him, forcing him to turn around and allowing him to catch sight of the beast that stood several feet away from him. An ugly amalgamation of dark matter that came in the form of a hound and was poised to strike at any given moment. Two more of them followed in the first one's stead, and the fire magician brought his daggers out from their sheaths in preparation for the impending battle. But there actually wasn't any preparation to it; the moment Vane had brought out his weapons, the mutt at the front of the pack charged him with a bark and he only had a split second to plunge the ends of his blades into either side of the beast's throat. Even though he'd managed to do that, the animal had still managed to collide forcefully into his chest...
And send them both tumbling down the edge of the rocky cliff.
If only there were a clearing to aid with guiding me to the village... Instead I have to keep making assumptions based on the environment around me, and not even that is really helping me. Vane's boots continued to crunch against fallen leaves and branches amidst the otherwise empty silence that had been there to accompany him for so long, step after step in one direction that he didn't even know would lead him to the place he was aiming to get to. To the best of his knowledge, there was a small residence here that went by the name of "Haern Awyr Newydd", and he'd decided to head there sometime back in order to try and determine if there were any surviving mages taking refuge there before going to the next nearest town to do the same thing. It was a tedious and exhausting process for him, but he needed a goal to focus on, so that was it. There wouldn't at all be a hope of retaking the kingdom if he couldn't even find living people in the land first, a possibility that he was beginning to believe didn't even exist anymore.
But new life was brought to that possibility when suddenly, unexpectedly, a shrill and terrified scream pierced through the air some distance in front of Vane.
What the...? That can't be. Is that really...? Even the sound of his own voice was foreign to him; to hear someone else's... It made him feel rather excited on the inside, but also cautious of what he was to find once he investigated the source of the noise. The trudging of his feet very quickly evolved into a fast jog that bordered on a sprint, cutting through trees and foliage on either side of him to get to the location of the sound. Vane's steps slowed to a stop once he reached the edge of a cliff, and in front of his line of sight appeared a seemingly empty beachside town with several huts littered along the shore. He scanned along the length of the area for a little while, until his emerald-green eyes were able to settle on a long and blond haired man who had just begun to engage with a duo of shadow hounds while a younger looking boy jogged away from them and towards the small village, clearly wanting to avoid any sort of trouble.
One person is enough of a surprise on its own... But two... Vane was soon brought out of his thoughts when he heard a guttural snarl sound off behind him, forcing him to turn around and allowing him to catch sight of the beast that stood several feet away from him. An ugly amalgamation of dark matter that came in the form of a hound and was poised to strike at any given moment. Two more of them followed in the first one's stead, and the fire magician brought his daggers out from their sheaths in preparation for the impending battle. But there actually wasn't any preparation to it; the moment Vane had brought out his weapons, the mutt at the front of the pack charged him with a bark and he only had a split second to plunge the ends of his blades into either side of the beast's throat. Even though he'd managed to do that, the animal had still managed to collide forcefully into his chest...
And send them both tumbling down the edge of the rocky cliff.
Attachments
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Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
Reflex from a life she didn't remember saved Rue.
Her grey eyes had but a moment to take note of the lunging shadow dog bursting out of a nearby fishing hut before it was upon her. The noble's steel sword flicked out of its matching scabbard in one long smooth motion that ended with the blade brandished before her. Gripping the hilt in both hands, Rue turned her feet for balance out of a habit more sensed than calculated.
The slavering black and purple monster went for her throat. And her sword went down its instead.
Sheer weight knocked her backwards, toppled her to the beach. I always thought sand would be softer. Rue gasped a moment, then yelped in shock as she felt that great weight lessen...because the mysterious monster started turning into a strange, sharp-smelling gas. She scrambled for traction in the loose sand grains, desperately kicking the disintegrating monster off of her. Then Rue rolled to her feet and wiped futilely at the soldier's coat she'd scavenged from the Temple of the Wise Ones. No trace of the beast now but her skin felt unclean through the fabric. And that smell...
Rue's gaze drifted to her sword, stained an octopus-purple with the creature's blood. "Why would the blood stay and not the rest of it?" she mused aloud.
At last, reason returned as her heart settled into something approaching normal. Rue looked down the beach and spotted the man she'd shouted for running towards her. And immediately after, she spotted two more, one running after the first but the second...was he rolling down the cliffs? He had one of those monsters on him!
"Behind you!" Rue yelled, desperately pointing with her sword in the direction of the ill-fated as-yet-unknown Vane. "No, behind you!"
At which point she cursed herself for being nine kinds of fool. For, once more, her yelling drew out another shadow hound from another hut. Only this time, Rue didn't see it coming until it slammed into her full-on, jaws locking around her sword-arm and dragging the shocked, screaming woman to the ground.
Her grey eyes had but a moment to take note of the lunging shadow dog bursting out of a nearby fishing hut before it was upon her. The noble's steel sword flicked out of its matching scabbard in one long smooth motion that ended with the blade brandished before her. Gripping the hilt in both hands, Rue turned her feet for balance out of a habit more sensed than calculated.
The slavering black and purple monster went for her throat. And her sword went down its instead.
Sheer weight knocked her backwards, toppled her to the beach. I always thought sand would be softer. Rue gasped a moment, then yelped in shock as she felt that great weight lessen...because the mysterious monster started turning into a strange, sharp-smelling gas. She scrambled for traction in the loose sand grains, desperately kicking the disintegrating monster off of her. Then Rue rolled to her feet and wiped futilely at the soldier's coat she'd scavenged from the Temple of the Wise Ones. No trace of the beast now but her skin felt unclean through the fabric. And that smell...
Rue's gaze drifted to her sword, stained an octopus-purple with the creature's blood. "Why would the blood stay and not the rest of it?" she mused aloud.
At last, reason returned as her heart settled into something approaching normal. Rue looked down the beach and spotted the man she'd shouted for running towards her. And immediately after, she spotted two more, one running after the first but the second...was he rolling down the cliffs? He had one of those monsters on him!
"Behind you!" Rue yelled, desperately pointing with her sword in the direction of the ill-fated as-yet-unknown Vane. "No, behind you!"
At which point she cursed herself for being nine kinds of fool. For, once more, her yelling drew out another shadow hound from another hut. Only this time, Rue didn't see it coming until it slammed into her full-on, jaws locking around her sword-arm and dragging the shocked, screaming woman to the ground.
cojemo
2000 IQ Killjoy Detective
A small, wooden doll. As Darius sifted through the carrying pack he'd recently acquired, the previous owner long dead a few kilometers back, for some reason this doll stood out. The carefully crafted white dress it wore proudly since its moment of creation was all but marred by the mud and dirt of the road, with rips and tears prevalent around the edges. Its lone, singular arm drooped by its side as the figure stared up at him with an unwavering smile that kept on smiling despite everything that plagued her. His gaze lingered, as if taken back by a sense of nostalgia, before picking up the doll and sighing. "If only things were that easy." With an uncaring toss, the doll flung over his shoulder and plummeted towards the cold, grassy earth, his attention returning to the bag as to examine his haul.
"Shit." Darius exclaimed in frustration upon getting to the bottom of what was supposed to be an extension for his life. Instead all that it held was the nic-nacs and useless attire of an aged old lady. It was as he had suspected upon meeting its previous owner, what with her barely holding on to the thin string of life she had left, but he had still hoped that she would at least be carrying SOMETHING worth the effort. Now her life had ended for nothing, with her last breath being spent in a desperate attack to pillage Darius' own belongings. She didn't seem to have very much to loose, but she must've known that she wouldn't be able to take a healthy young man with a frontal attack. He simply shook his head and stood up. It's just the nature of the world now, all you can do is stop the evil.
Dumping the contents of the sack and slinging it over his shoulder, Darius continued onward through the thick brush of the forest, thin rays of sunlight shining through the canopy overhead. Where was he headed? No clue. For the past month he'd been wandering aimlessly, just trying to survive and figure out what had befallen the once peaceful world he inhabited. There was only so much he could do on his own, and even then solidarity almost appeared like it was the best option. Every single encounter he'd had after the attack on the academy, without fail, was either with bandits who were too bloodthirsty to reason with or those who'd just skirted by on luck with nothing to provide. Those people were the oftentimes the worst. At the very least the murderers that plagued the land offered food or weapons upon their death, but the weak may as well have been a pointless encounter. What he needed was someone who could actually hold their own, and on top of that be able to hold their blade back from wanton murder. Then again, people like that were hard to come by even before the world fell apart. It's not like the heavens were privy to handouts.
Suddenly, a shriek of horror broke the silence that pervaded him, sending him into a state of alert. The noise appeared to originate from a good distance away, but that didn't mean he was safe. Either the person was a fool and found themselves making loud, attention-grabbing noises at random, or they were in danger. Darius began thinking through the possible scenarios in his head, balancing out the pros and cons of rushing in, before suddenly the crunching of branches and the fast paced footsteps that could only be attributed to a pack of animals approached him from the opposite direction of the shout, just left of where he was. God dam it, screw my luck today! Without a moments hesitation he carefully slipped in between him and where the pack would be crossing and placed his back tightly again it.
As he held his breath tightly, the sound of running grew in magnitude until it was upon him, and with it appeared to be a group of the abominable wolves he'd grown to despise, their dark fur indicating they were not living beings. Luckily, they appeared drawn to the racket just like anything would've been, and completely missed his presence. Darius let the moment linger as the sound grew farther and farther away, until he was finally able to let out a long and deserved exhale. There was no way he could've taken on that many of those creatures, especially in the heavily condensed forest. He'd just narrowly avoided death, and from what he could tell he was as close as one could get.
However, lady luck didn't seem to have the same plans, as just when he began to feel safe, the barking of the hounds entered his eardrums as two stragglers from the pack noticed his presence and began making a beeline towards him. Using a barrage of ice seemed reckless considering the trees that'd get in the way and guard his attackers, so his next instinct was to immediately begin running as fast as he could, dodging and weaving hos way through the foliage while looking back every so often to see his pursuers hot on his trail. There was no way he could outrun them, but that wasn't his intention. All he needed was an open space or somewhere he could get the drop on them and then he'd be in the clear. It seemed he wasn't too far off from the edge of the treeline, as only after what seemed like a few seconds of running Darius emerged into plain sunlight, only to be met with the lip of a cliff extending over a beach. To many this would spell death; surely being pushed towards a fall that high with no escape can only end in one way, right? Not for Darius. Instead, he saw the best case scenario, eliciting a knowing smile from him.
Looking over his shoulder one more time to see one of the wolves right on his tail, Darius extended the palm of his hand towards the ground behind him. A steady stream of freezing air shot from his palms and created a path of slippery ice that followed neatly behind him all the way up till the edge of the cliff before he took a step to the side and turned to face his foes. The beast closest in pursuit did not stop its path as it stumbled right into Darius' trap, loosing its footing and tumbling messily to the cold rink as it continued sliding towards the cliffs end. As it attempted to bring itself back up to its feet, the shadowy monster only made the situation worse as it only managed to slide itself off the side of the cliff before it even reached where Darius stood. He didn't have time to watch the wolf fall, as the air around him immediately began to cool, with numerous large icicles forming around him. Once the second wolf emerged from the trees it was already dead, as the spears began soaring towards the creature, impaling it on the spot, causing the body to slump to the ground motionless.
Darius breathed heavily with his foe defeated but did not for a second turn his back. Instead, he carefully peered to the side where he could hear the commotion from earlier taking place. It was a mess, with people fighting left and right against the dark hounds that'd emerged from nowhere. However, what was a sight he hadn't seen yet was that they seemed to be helping each other.Now, he had no idea if they had known each other earlier, but this gave him a slight bit of hope. If these people were friendly, then maybe he could get them to join his group, and then he'd have a better chance of stopping this whole mess. However, he quickly realized that it was foolish to think of that now, as there was no way of knowing they'd even survive this healthily. He may just end up looting their lifeless carcasses if things took a turn for the worse. All he knew was that this was the safest place for him now. He wasn't going to dare risk his life for people he didn't know when there was so much danger, Instead, he would simply wait at the edge of the cliff, watching the forest exit in case any wolves decided to come be funneled towards him and into their deaths.
"Shit." Darius exclaimed in frustration upon getting to the bottom of what was supposed to be an extension for his life. Instead all that it held was the nic-nacs and useless attire of an aged old lady. It was as he had suspected upon meeting its previous owner, what with her barely holding on to the thin string of life she had left, but he had still hoped that she would at least be carrying SOMETHING worth the effort. Now her life had ended for nothing, with her last breath being spent in a desperate attack to pillage Darius' own belongings. She didn't seem to have very much to loose, but she must've known that she wouldn't be able to take a healthy young man with a frontal attack. He simply shook his head and stood up. It's just the nature of the world now, all you can do is stop the evil.
Dumping the contents of the sack and slinging it over his shoulder, Darius continued onward through the thick brush of the forest, thin rays of sunlight shining through the canopy overhead. Where was he headed? No clue. For the past month he'd been wandering aimlessly, just trying to survive and figure out what had befallen the once peaceful world he inhabited. There was only so much he could do on his own, and even then solidarity almost appeared like it was the best option. Every single encounter he'd had after the attack on the academy, without fail, was either with bandits who were too bloodthirsty to reason with or those who'd just skirted by on luck with nothing to provide. Those people were the oftentimes the worst. At the very least the murderers that plagued the land offered food or weapons upon their death, but the weak may as well have been a pointless encounter. What he needed was someone who could actually hold their own, and on top of that be able to hold their blade back from wanton murder. Then again, people like that were hard to come by even before the world fell apart. It's not like the heavens were privy to handouts.
Suddenly, a shriek of horror broke the silence that pervaded him, sending him into a state of alert. The noise appeared to originate from a good distance away, but that didn't mean he was safe. Either the person was a fool and found themselves making loud, attention-grabbing noises at random, or they were in danger. Darius began thinking through the possible scenarios in his head, balancing out the pros and cons of rushing in, before suddenly the crunching of branches and the fast paced footsteps that could only be attributed to a pack of animals approached him from the opposite direction of the shout, just left of where he was. God dam it, screw my luck today! Without a moments hesitation he carefully slipped in between him and where the pack would be crossing and placed his back tightly again it.
As he held his breath tightly, the sound of running grew in magnitude until it was upon him, and with it appeared to be a group of the abominable wolves he'd grown to despise, their dark fur indicating they were not living beings. Luckily, they appeared drawn to the racket just like anything would've been, and completely missed his presence. Darius let the moment linger as the sound grew farther and farther away, until he was finally able to let out a long and deserved exhale. There was no way he could've taken on that many of those creatures, especially in the heavily condensed forest. He'd just narrowly avoided death, and from what he could tell he was as close as one could get.
However, lady luck didn't seem to have the same plans, as just when he began to feel safe, the barking of the hounds entered his eardrums as two stragglers from the pack noticed his presence and began making a beeline towards him. Using a barrage of ice seemed reckless considering the trees that'd get in the way and guard his attackers, so his next instinct was to immediately begin running as fast as he could, dodging and weaving hos way through the foliage while looking back every so often to see his pursuers hot on his trail. There was no way he could outrun them, but that wasn't his intention. All he needed was an open space or somewhere he could get the drop on them and then he'd be in the clear. It seemed he wasn't too far off from the edge of the treeline, as only after what seemed like a few seconds of running Darius emerged into plain sunlight, only to be met with the lip of a cliff extending over a beach. To many this would spell death; surely being pushed towards a fall that high with no escape can only end in one way, right? Not for Darius. Instead, he saw the best case scenario, eliciting a knowing smile from him.
Looking over his shoulder one more time to see one of the wolves right on his tail, Darius extended the palm of his hand towards the ground behind him. A steady stream of freezing air shot from his palms and created a path of slippery ice that followed neatly behind him all the way up till the edge of the cliff before he took a step to the side and turned to face his foes. The beast closest in pursuit did not stop its path as it stumbled right into Darius' trap, loosing its footing and tumbling messily to the cold rink as it continued sliding towards the cliffs end. As it attempted to bring itself back up to its feet, the shadowy monster only made the situation worse as it only managed to slide itself off the side of the cliff before it even reached where Darius stood. He didn't have time to watch the wolf fall, as the air around him immediately began to cool, with numerous large icicles forming around him. Once the second wolf emerged from the trees it was already dead, as the spears began soaring towards the creature, impaling it on the spot, causing the body to slump to the ground motionless.
Darius breathed heavily with his foe defeated but did not for a second turn his back. Instead, he carefully peered to the side where he could hear the commotion from earlier taking place. It was a mess, with people fighting left and right against the dark hounds that'd emerged from nowhere. However, what was a sight he hadn't seen yet was that they seemed to be helping each other.Now, he had no idea if they had known each other earlier, but this gave him a slight bit of hope. If these people were friendly, then maybe he could get them to join his group, and then he'd have a better chance of stopping this whole mess. However, he quickly realized that it was foolish to think of that now, as there was no way of knowing they'd even survive this healthily. He may just end up looting their lifeless carcasses if things took a turn for the worse. All he knew was that this was the safest place for him now. He wasn't going to dare risk his life for people he didn't know when there was so much danger, Instead, he would simply wait at the edge of the cliff, watching the forest exit in case any wolves decided to come be funneled towards him and into their deaths.
Quill
Junior Member
After spending the night in a fisher hut, Jvala was making her way towards the cliffs when distant shouting attracted her attention. Thanks to her hopelessly blurry distant vision, she couldn't make sense of the commotion until she'd cautiously approached. Once she saw the dark beasts engaging several figures in combat, she expended a low amount of energy to divert the air currents around her body so her scent would not carry towards the mysterious predators.
As she came closer to investigate the disturbance, she saw one of the vicious animals leap towards a young woman with such force that they were both sent tumbling into the sand. Well, that settled it. These creatures only spelled trouble. The way it had burst out at her from out of a fishing hut almost made the impression of an ambush, and the only thing worse than a hungry feral dog was a smart hungry feral dog.
She was about to turn away and disappear into the cliffs when the wolfish beast … dissolved? At first she thought it must be her nearsightedness playing tricks on her. But she summoned a whiff of it to her nose and was taken aback by the bizarre smell. She'd never experienced anything like it before. It must be some incarnation of a nefarious magic that she had not even encountered in her most sophisticated studies. A wave of curiosity overwhelmed her. Just then, she heard a piercing shriek and realized the young woman was being dragged down by one of those slavering monstrosities.
Right. So much for that peaceful afternoon spent berry-picking she'd been looking forward to.
Jvala ran forward on her long legs, using the wind to help propel her down the hill to land in a spray of sand on the shore. Her aim assisted by wind currents, the athletic woman thwacked the shadowy hound hard on the head with her sturdy quarterstaff, causing it to loosen its grip with a harsh yelp.
@Epiphany
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Kharmin
Moon Pie Maven
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c39a2c5a5_Stephen_50.jpg.b5df44deef2a77c6f52a06a94f4116c5.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="64790" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c39a2c5a5_Stephen_50.jpg.b5df44deef2a77c6f52a06a94f4116c5.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> More of the shadow hounds appeared seemingly at random all around the area. Yeah, that's more like it, Stephen mused. The three hounds thus far vanquished were too few for the number of survivors in the small vicinity. Experience taught him that the Shadow King's forces seemed innumerable; regardless of how many he had cut down so far what the land's ruler could not accomplish with tactics, he appeared to rely on sheer numbers.
He slid to a stop in the soft sand as his attention was grabbed by another traveler who had been unceremoniously hurled from the cliff with the impact of the hound which plummeted with the man. In desperation, Stephen cast out his hand and made a fist as he summoned his talent. The ground rose up in a bizarre mimicry of his own appendage as a large hand composed of sand and silt grasped at the falling duo. The animated hand grabbed them and slowed their descent, but Stephen's lack of grace and training quickly showed as in the last dozen or so feet before they impacted the shore the 'sand hand' simply fell apart.
Dammit, Stephen swore. His attention swiveled from those amongst the dilapidated huts and the fellow who had tumbled to the ground nearby. His grip on the hilt of his sword flexed as Stephen considered his indecision.
Others entered the fray around the huts, so Stephen dug in and charged the hound that was regaining its feet where it had fallen from the cliff. He spared no moment for the fallen man as his attention was singularly focused on his opponent.
The shadow hound heard his charge and attempted to rise to meet the challenge. Saliva foamed around the creatures jowls as it struggled from the twin daggers impaled in its neck and shoulders. Stephen slowed and almost felt pity for the thing as he severed its head with a strong, overhand swing of his broadsword.
He ignored the dissipating cloud that resulted in the hound's death, plunged his sword point-down in the sand and knelt to check on his new comrade. "Sorry I couldn't quite catch you," Stephen said as he tried to make his actions less threatening. The last thing he wanted now was for this person to think that Stephen was going to rob him. "Are you hurt?"
@grey987
He slid to a stop in the soft sand as his attention was grabbed by another traveler who had been unceremoniously hurled from the cliff with the impact of the hound which plummeted with the man. In desperation, Stephen cast out his hand and made a fist as he summoned his talent. The ground rose up in a bizarre mimicry of his own appendage as a large hand composed of sand and silt grasped at the falling duo. The animated hand grabbed them and slowed their descent, but Stephen's lack of grace and training quickly showed as in the last dozen or so feet before they impacted the shore the 'sand hand' simply fell apart.
Dammit, Stephen swore. His attention swiveled from those amongst the dilapidated huts and the fellow who had tumbled to the ground nearby. His grip on the hilt of his sword flexed as Stephen considered his indecision.
Others entered the fray around the huts, so Stephen dug in and charged the hound that was regaining its feet where it had fallen from the cliff. He spared no moment for the fallen man as his attention was singularly focused on his opponent.
The shadow hound heard his charge and attempted to rise to meet the challenge. Saliva foamed around the creatures jowls as it struggled from the twin daggers impaled in its neck and shoulders. Stephen slowed and almost felt pity for the thing as he severed its head with a strong, overhand swing of his broadsword.
He ignored the dissipating cloud that resulted in the hound's death, plunged his sword point-down in the sand and knelt to check on his new comrade. "Sorry I couldn't quite catch you," Stephen said as he tried to make his actions less threatening. The last thing he wanted now was for this person to think that Stephen was going to rob him. "Are you hurt?"
@grey987
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grey987
Man of the Shadows
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c39b3df34_ResizedVane.jpg.46cf4457cbfaab1d14cdbe62544e54f1.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="64837" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c39b3df34_ResizedVane.jpg.46cf4457cbfaab1d14cdbe62544e54f1.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> For a few moments, the world became a blur to Vane's sight, and he was hardly able to expect the blows to his body from the rocky cliffside that made him grunt aloud in pain. But only for a few moments. His rough descent was quickly brought to a halt when he suddenly landed on his back against a much flatter and smoother surface, while the beast still wedged between his daggers snapped its jaws him and tried attack him, vigor still present in its movements despite the fact that there were two weapons lodged into its throat. It was painfully resilient, and it was quite a struggle to flip their positions so that he was able to pin the hound against the odd intrusion between the top and bottom of the cliff he'd just been descending down not too long ago. It was when the fire magician looked around him that he noticed the finger-like shapes protruding out from the platform he now rested on, and realized that he'd been saved by an earth mage before he could have sustained any serious injuries from his fall.
A strangled bark then reminded Vane that he still had to attend to his attacker, and he removed his daggers from the surface of the creature's exoskeleton before lifting them up and aiming their edges towards its underside. He had just managed to plunge the blades back into the hound when his 'safe haven' suddenly fell apart, and in a second they were both falling back towards the ground once more. Thankfully, the beast lasted long enough to slightly cushion his fall before evaporating into the air as a pungent-scented gas that had all of the colors that once painted the animal while it was still intact. Groaning softly, he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky as he wondered how in the name of the Gods he'd even survived that predicament. He didn't even bother to try and move despite now knowing there was an existence of other travellers here in the village that could have been foes as much as they could have been friends, lying still and staring up at the sky before he heard someone approach him and looked over to see him kneeling over his idle body.
The other man was... Pretty majestic looking, he thought humorously to himself.
"Well... I'm alive, I suppose," Vane replied, his voice a little more gruff-sounding than usual when he spoke. It truly was odd to hear himself speak, especially when it was to another person. Using his daggers to help prop himself back onto his feet, he slowly stood up and rolled his shoulders back, hearing a pop sound in his spine before he relaxed and opened his eyes to look at his now-fellow survivor. "... I'm guessing you're the one who eased my descent. My thanks to you, for that," he said with a nod, sheathing his daggers before taking a glance up at the edge of the cliff where he'd once been standing and catching sight of the other two mutts from earlier making their way down towards them, seemingly undeterred by the rocky terrain that separated them from the duo of men. It seemed like a formal acquaintance between them would have to wait for a while.
"I'll take the one on the left," Vane said simply, bringing his thumb and ring finger close together before moving his hand in a clockwise circling motion. The action generated a medium-sized fireball between his appendages that was heated up to an extreme level, and after gauging the target creature's movement for a quick few seconds, he launched the projectile toward it. The fireball seared directly into the joint that connected its leg to its torso, causing the animal to yelp and crumple underneath itself, now rolling down the cliff in a haphazard state.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly. We have to move," Vane told his new ally in a brisk manner.
@Kharmin
A strangled bark then reminded Vane that he still had to attend to his attacker, and he removed his daggers from the surface of the creature's exoskeleton before lifting them up and aiming their edges towards its underside. He had just managed to plunge the blades back into the hound when his 'safe haven' suddenly fell apart, and in a second they were both falling back towards the ground once more. Thankfully, the beast lasted long enough to slightly cushion his fall before evaporating into the air as a pungent-scented gas that had all of the colors that once painted the animal while it was still intact. Groaning softly, he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky as he wondered how in the name of the Gods he'd even survived that predicament. He didn't even bother to try and move despite now knowing there was an existence of other travellers here in the village that could have been foes as much as they could have been friends, lying still and staring up at the sky before he heard someone approach him and looked over to see him kneeling over his idle body.
The other man was... Pretty majestic looking, he thought humorously to himself.
"Well... I'm alive, I suppose," Vane replied, his voice a little more gruff-sounding than usual when he spoke. It truly was odd to hear himself speak, especially when it was to another person. Using his daggers to help prop himself back onto his feet, he slowly stood up and rolled his shoulders back, hearing a pop sound in his spine before he relaxed and opened his eyes to look at his now-fellow survivor. "... I'm guessing you're the one who eased my descent. My thanks to you, for that," he said with a nod, sheathing his daggers before taking a glance up at the edge of the cliff where he'd once been standing and catching sight of the other two mutts from earlier making their way down towards them, seemingly undeterred by the rocky terrain that separated them from the duo of men. It seemed like a formal acquaintance between them would have to wait for a while.
"I'll take the one on the left," Vane said simply, bringing his thumb and ring finger close together before moving his hand in a clockwise circling motion. The action generated a medium-sized fireball between his appendages that was heated up to an extreme level, and after gauging the target creature's movement for a quick few seconds, he launched the projectile toward it. The fireball seared directly into the joint that connected its leg to its torso, causing the animal to yelp and crumple underneath itself, now rolling down the cliff in a haphazard state.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly. We have to move," Vane told his new ally in a brisk manner.
@Kharmin
Attachments
Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
Fear turned to a sudden rage that fanned a quality of darkness inside of her. Rue felt magic at her fingertips, knew suddenly of horrible vicious things she could do to the insolent creature that dared attack her. But giving into the magic meant giving into the mind, its mindset, memories not her own, memories she didn't want. When she drew upon Dark Magic, it drew her inside of it.
Rue's dilemma ended as quickly as it'd begun. A stick of wood blurred right past her line of sight and knocked the shadow hound loose. She gasped at the flare of pain when its jaws let go.
Instinct took over. Her sword arm was damaged but there was room enough on the hilt of the steel sword for a two-handed grip. Still prone, Rue steadied her aim with her left hand and drove the sword straight into the shadow mastiff, piercing it cleanly through the chest. This time, she managed to shove its body back from collapsing on her. As it dissolved into a sickly purple mist, Rue hauled herself to her feet, panting loudly with exertion, pain and shock.
Then she gave Jvala a wan smile. "You saved my life," Rue said, still a bit stunned to actually speak to a real living person. "Now let's go save theirs-"
Rue stopped talking as swiftly as she'd started, noticing Joachim arriving. And somewhat past him, the sword-wielding Stephen joining forces with Vane, with the latter conjuring fire out of thin air. The use of magic widened Rue's storm-colored eyes. "A Mage? Mages survived?"
She stood there, clad in her soldier's coat with her sword held in her left arm as her bleeding right is cradled against her body. It's quite plain, to Jvala and Joachim at least, that she's not sure what to do next.
@Quill @SkyGinge
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SkyGinge
Sad Shroom
Something had fallen off of the cliff behind him, and of course he presumed it to be another shadow dog instead of a Vane-shaped human. For some reason, the thought amused him. Really, really amused him. A shadow dog, born into a little shadow world by big daddy Shadow King and told 'Go get'em, son!' A being purely made to scout and kill. So it runs all the way across the kingdom, one thing on its mind: 'kill-kill-kill-kill-squirrel-kill-kill'. Only to leap right off a cliff and splat itself to death. Classic!
That funny thought was quite the effective distraction from the matter at hand, but behind him, some oaf (probably Blondey) was still fighting and ruining the comedic facade he was trying to convince himself of. Couldn't they fight elsewhere, like maybe in the bottom of the sea, far far away from him and his cosy life of doing whatever the hell it was he was doing? Course not. Warriors, magicians, they're all the same. Think they have to use theirs powers like it's some kind of unwritten law. Well, what does Monseiure Joachim think to that? A load of dung, that's what!
There was a couple of less messy splats behind him. Joys, is it starting to rain? Those are some obese raindrops - quit eating the venison, clouds, and leave some for your buddy Jo, yeah? Cheers. Good one.
My, has the rain learnt how to run now? I blame the Water Mages.
Quit chasing me, running rain, and go back to the cloud thou were birthed from heathen! You hear me? Quit it! You stupid, stubborn-
Joachim spun right as the dog leapt at him. His eyes widened almost impossibly big, and he stumbled to the shingle in a flurry of floundering limbs. The dark shape of the shadow creature flitted past his face, and he scrambled further up the cliff face. Snarling, the beast turned, and with a little squeal, Joachim threw three blades, quickfire into its face. Boom! Shaka! Laka! It collapsed against the rocks, and Joachim let out a little victory whoop.
The hottie better have been watching that, he grinned. But lo and behold, had the great Joachim Crowe made a strategic error. The pattering on the rocks; another wolf. And he'd just played his triple knife combo card, and everybody knew it was boring to play the same car twice. Rolling his eyes, Joachim gritted his teeth, and then thrust an empty hand towards the dashing wolf. A, long thin shard of ice flew from his hand and impaled the best from mouth to tail like one of those hog-spits the nobles often gorged themselves on; he'd stole one of 'em once, and let me tell you, it was a mighty feast. Kebabed dark-magic-whatever-the-hell-it-was didn't seem particularly appetising though.
Any more beasties want a piece of Joachim Crowe? No? You sure? Satisfied, Joachim sifted a hand through the evaporating gas of the first dog's body to retrieve the three knives he had wasted on it. More horrible blood! Well, that's enough sacrifices for one day. That's my yang, so hottie'd better be my ying.
Sighing at his world-forsaken luck, Joachim held his head high and began to strut towards the nearby village. He wasn't too far away at all, though Hottie was too far away for him to validate her hottie-ness. He gave a cheery wave. "A very fine afternoon to you, ma'am!" Whilst behind him, slowly gaining, another pair of shadow beasts, the young rogue completely unaware...
@Quill @Epiphany
That funny thought was quite the effective distraction from the matter at hand, but behind him, some oaf (probably Blondey) was still fighting and ruining the comedic facade he was trying to convince himself of. Couldn't they fight elsewhere, like maybe in the bottom of the sea, far far away from him and his cosy life of doing whatever the hell it was he was doing? Course not. Warriors, magicians, they're all the same. Think they have to use theirs powers like it's some kind of unwritten law. Well, what does Monseiure Joachim think to that? A load of dung, that's what!
There was a couple of less messy splats behind him. Joys, is it starting to rain? Those are some obese raindrops - quit eating the venison, clouds, and leave some for your buddy Jo, yeah? Cheers. Good one.
My, has the rain learnt how to run now? I blame the Water Mages.
Quit chasing me, running rain, and go back to the cloud thou were birthed from heathen! You hear me? Quit it! You stupid, stubborn-
Joachim spun right as the dog leapt at him. His eyes widened almost impossibly big, and he stumbled to the shingle in a flurry of floundering limbs. The dark shape of the shadow creature flitted past his face, and he scrambled further up the cliff face. Snarling, the beast turned, and with a little squeal, Joachim threw three blades, quickfire into its face. Boom! Shaka! Laka! It collapsed against the rocks, and Joachim let out a little victory whoop.
The hottie better have been watching that, he grinned. But lo and behold, had the great Joachim Crowe made a strategic error. The pattering on the rocks; another wolf. And he'd just played his triple knife combo card, and everybody knew it was boring to play the same car twice. Rolling his eyes, Joachim gritted his teeth, and then thrust an empty hand towards the dashing wolf. A, long thin shard of ice flew from his hand and impaled the best from mouth to tail like one of those hog-spits the nobles often gorged themselves on; he'd stole one of 'em once, and let me tell you, it was a mighty feast. Kebabed dark-magic-whatever-the-hell-it-was didn't seem particularly appetising though.
Any more beasties want a piece of Joachim Crowe? No? You sure? Satisfied, Joachim sifted a hand through the evaporating gas of the first dog's body to retrieve the three knives he had wasted on it. More horrible blood! Well, that's enough sacrifices for one day. That's my yang, so hottie'd better be my ying.
Sighing at his world-forsaken luck, Joachim held his head high and began to strut towards the nearby village. He wasn't too far away at all, though Hottie was too far away for him to validate her hottie-ness. He gave a cheery wave. "A very fine afternoon to you, ma'am!" Whilst behind him, slowly gaining, another pair of shadow beasts, the young rogue completely unaware...
@Quill @Epiphany
Kyte
New Member
]
Silence...stillness…darkness… these are the only remaining truths of this forsaken land. The cold hearth of a once proud nation now permeates all things, from its diverse landscape, to its once bustling but now empty villages. Yet doth this old land of Valia persist, a specter unwilling to relinquish its former glory.
Yes, these truths are now the law of this forlorn realm, but to close one’s eyes shalt reveal one last truth…a revelation that while a nation may burn and its people perish, an ideology is infinitely more resilient. Yet this nation, suffocated by death and memories, has many ideologies. What is evil?...what is good?…what is righteous? After many years of searching for my own perspectives in life, I have realized that these questions fundamentally make no sense; life is only cause and effect. Evil causes good, and good gives rise to evil…and righteousness? that is subjective to the same equivalent exchange of principals.
But must all things in this world maintain equivalence? Are we destined to live as sheep, slaves to the duality of simple cause and effect? If my love of this land shall only give rise to evil, then what is my point of living?
No…I will break this cycle. Although wisdom has taught me it is impossible, there is a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path. I choose to walk this shadowed path…and resurrect this kingdom.
I am a warrior of Aliak…A son of Valia…and this is my story.”
_____________________________________________________________________________
Coming from a background of Improv theatre LARPing, in select scenes I like to insert a instrumental score which fits the current scenario. You may choose whether or not to listen while reading.
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[media]
Ten minutes earlier
Dawn’s golden rays of light began to peak through the dense assortment of pines and oak trees that made up the western Valian forest, projecting vivid hues of lavender, orange, and pink upon the white clouds which arbitrarily dispersed and conjoined throughout the blue canopy above. Scattered showers brushed across west Valia’s rugged terrain in a light drizzle, creating a surreal atmosphere of rain and sunshine. A cool wind coiled lazy paths through the branches of the pine and oak foliage. A stray leaf, making its home upon one of the great Oaks, broke off from a high branch and began to dance its way downward in tune with the breeze until it finally came to rest upon the wood roof of a long abandoned lighthouse on the outskirts of a quaint little fishing village, Haearn Awyr Newydd.
The sound of crunching leaves faded into the ambient sounds of the forest as a handsome but experienced looking man, Holland Campbell, materialized from the green shrubbery and made his way towards the lighthouse cabin.
Taking a quick glance down at a well worn parchment with a crude map scribbled on the front, Holland Smiled and folded the map and placed it back within his pack.
"Heh, and here I was beginning to think that those old fishermen I met last week gave me some false directions, I'll definitely need to thank them!" He chuckled briefly before the smile slowly dissipated from his face. "Doubt Ill ever see them again though…gods bless them."
rays of light flooded the dusty Interior of the Lighthouse cabin as Holland forced open the locked door using his weapon, a large and dangerous looking metal lance, as a fulcrum. Once inside, Holland went to work looting the house of any useful supplies, unspoiled food, or items otherwise worth selling.
It pained him, as a former captain of the Valia Royal Guard, to be reduced to actions no different than the common criminal…but staying alive was a much more potent priority than law…especially in these special circumstances where law was a long disintegrated luxury.
"Huh, Dried venison eh? Nice! and Aloe Leaves too. Not to mention the two magica potions. It looks like these old lighthouse proprietors were pretty progressive for westerners…good for them. These can easily be sold for a hefty amount of gold, considering all Valian mystic mages are either dead or MIA…"
Holland's eyes suddenly darkened as he spotted a dusty family portrait sitting on a coffee table.
"Along with the other 95 percent of Valia's populous" he muttered in distain as he reached for the picture and held it up close to his eyes." The portrait was very well drawn and depicted 3 people. The first being a strong yet humble looking fisherman with a smile underneath his thick beard. The second, A cute housewife with an Apron and mirroring her husbands smile. Between the two stood a young boy, no more than 6 or 7 years of age, sporting a huge toothy grin…Holland sat there for several moments, entranced by that smile, sorrowfully fantasizing a world where he could have seen the same smile on his own un-borne son, who had no doubt been killed along with his mother and Holland's future wife.
A sudden guttural growling noise outside the cabin walls startled Holland. Dropping the picture, he quietly made his way to the nearest window and peered outside. Through the woods he could see the dark shapes of at least five Shadow hounds making their way toward the lighthouse.
"God dammit, are you kidding me? even after all this distance they've still been tracking my scent? I thought I lost them hours ago!"
Lowering himself from the window, he braced himself for the coming fight. He had underestimated their tracking abilities, and his mistake had got him cornered.
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Kharmin
Moon Pie Maven
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a0e6bb3_Stephen_50.jpg.92505fdaa143a6b5216cc5c4f817a0bd.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="65094" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a0e6bb3_Stephen_50.jpg.92505fdaa143a6b5216cc5c4f817a0bd.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "Eased your descent is a nice way of putting it," Stephen said with a wry smirk, "but you're welcome all the same." His glance shifted to where his new ally looked as they saw the two hounds managing the cliff side.
Stephen took a defensive stance and waited for the hounds to approach. He nodded his assent at the suggestion of splitting their attacks between the two creatures. On his own, Stephen could easily manage one shadow hound. If he had been forced to take them both and also try to protect this other fellow, then things would have been ... well, much more difficult.
Fire blasted from his companion as the mage launched his volley at the hound on the left. Stephen felt some satisfaction at the creature's malady what with tumbling further down the cliff while on fire. He heard the prodding from the other man but simply stood his ground and replied in a monotone voice, "I don't do quick."
The as yet unmolested hound hit the beach and immediately charged the duo. Stephen stood defiantly as he waited, and focused on the creature's movement as it came closer. In his inner mind, the action seemed to slow down as Stephen metered the attacking hound's speed by sensing the impact of its shadow paws on the sand. In this manner, he could easily track the progression of the enemy as it came closer to them.
The hound launched itself at Stephen. Airborne, the creature had committed itself to its trajectory. Stephen dropped to a knee a little to the side of where he had been standing and thrust his sword deeply into the hound's underbelly as it soared over Stephen's shoulder. The impact and momentum might have torn the sword from the grip of one lesser trained, but Stephen's grasp held fim. The hound was almost sliced in two from its breastbone to its tail, and as it passed Stephen wrenched his sword free. He knew that the creature was dead before it impacted the ground behind them, so he didn't bother to watch as it landed in a heap and then vanished in a purple cloud.
Stephen nodded his head up the beach toward the small village where a battle seemed to be raging in earnest. "Go on," he ordered. "They need your magic help up there; I can manage this last hound on my own."
@grey987
Stephen took a defensive stance and waited for the hounds to approach. He nodded his assent at the suggestion of splitting their attacks between the two creatures. On his own, Stephen could easily manage one shadow hound. If he had been forced to take them both and also try to protect this other fellow, then things would have been ... well, much more difficult.
Fire blasted from his companion as the mage launched his volley at the hound on the left. Stephen felt some satisfaction at the creature's malady what with tumbling further down the cliff while on fire. He heard the prodding from the other man but simply stood his ground and replied in a monotone voice, "I don't do quick."
The as yet unmolested hound hit the beach and immediately charged the duo. Stephen stood defiantly as he waited, and focused on the creature's movement as it came closer. In his inner mind, the action seemed to slow down as Stephen metered the attacking hound's speed by sensing the impact of its shadow paws on the sand. In this manner, he could easily track the progression of the enemy as it came closer to them.
The hound launched itself at Stephen. Airborne, the creature had committed itself to its trajectory. Stephen dropped to a knee a little to the side of where he had been standing and thrust his sword deeply into the hound's underbelly as it soared over Stephen's shoulder. The impact and momentum might have torn the sword from the grip of one lesser trained, but Stephen's grasp held fim. The hound was almost sliced in two from its breastbone to its tail, and as it passed Stephen wrenched his sword free. He knew that the creature was dead before it impacted the ground behind them, so he didn't bother to watch as it landed in a heap and then vanished in a purple cloud.
Stephen nodded his head up the beach toward the small village where a battle seemed to be raging in earnest. "Go on," he ordered. "They need your magic help up there; I can manage this last hound on my own."
@grey987
Attachments
Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
But, of course, the young man moving to join her and her quarterstaff-wielding friend didn't notice more of the monsters coming out of nowhere to attack him from behind. With a push of effort, Rue pushed herself into a run. Her left arm kept her sword angled down towards the sand of the beach while she cradled her right awkwardly against her body. The voluminous all-weather soldier's coat she wore flapped behind her as she ran to met Joachim, revealing a mismatch of a rather nice merchant's wrap-around shirt coupled with the kind of sturdy breeches farmers usually wear.
"A fine afternoon to you too!" she cried out in answer to Joachim's greeting as she draws close. "But we're not done yet!"
Rue passed the young man by, her grey eyes briefly sweeping him from head to toe and crinkling slightly at the corners as he defied easy categorization. Then she skidded to a stop just past Joachim and swept her sword up to a guard position, joining her right arm to her left in a double-handed grip on the blade as she prepared to meet the charge of the monsters. The two men beyond, Mage and swordwielder alike, seemed to be dispatching monsters of their own so little chance of help there. But hopefully the man next to her and the woman armed with a quarterstaff behind her would, between the three of them, make short work of these shadowy creatures.
Of course, you could end the threat this instant, with a simple gesture of your hand...
The grey-eyed black-haired woman ground her teeth, ignored the thought and took a swing as the first shadow hound bounded into range.
@Quill @SkyGinge
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Kyte
New Member
As the shadow hounds winded their way closer to the old lighthouse, all ambient sounds of the forest seemed to die. Everything became still and quiet, with only a gradual crescendo from the shadowy monstrosities to fill the silence. One particular hound slowly made its way to the eastern flank of the lighthouse cabin, Its grotesque looking face cast downward as it tracked the scent of its bounty.
As it went around, it's ears twitched and shot to attention as the sudden distant scream from a woman, or perhaps a man, broke through the still silence. The hound stood for a few moments, calculating whether or not it should pursue the new noise or continue tracking Holland's scent….No, it had traveled too far to abandon its prey now. As it passed by a rotted and termite infested plank in the walls of the cabin, the hound noticed a brief shadow of movement from within the dark interior. It's head snapped toward the rotted cabin wall and its mouth curled up into a snarl as it inched its way closer to the wall.
The hound's cold nose touched the rotted plank and it inhaled deeply. its snarl intensified into what almost looked like a wicked grin…His prey was most definitely inside.
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The Shadow hound's head shot skyward as it prepared a loud series of barks in an attempt to warn the pack of their bounties location. All that escaped its lips was a shriek of shock as the rotted plank suddenly exploded into a shower of splinters and a well thrown lance flew into its skull. A second later, Holland vaulted through the hole in the wall, placed his leather boot on the creature's face, and tore his lance out.
A second hound sprinted around the corner of the building, growling loudly. Hollands lance whistled through the air in a blur as he spun to the right. As the creature leapt at him, the staff end of the lance cracked into its snout with a meaty thud and blood shot from its nose and mouth. Undeterred, the hound hit the ground, pivoted, and charged Holland once more.
Well, at least these things are predictable enough. Holland thought as he side stepped once more, twirled his lance in a single rotation, then thrusted the lance deeply into the Shadow hounds open chest, letting its forward momentum pull the blade out as it flew past him. Holland did not have much time to admire his handiwork however as three more hounds rounded the corner and more savage barking could still be heard from behind them as well…Why the hell are there so many Hounds in this one location?! Im about to get swarmed out here in the open…
With no other option, Holland dove back inside the cabin, jumped to his feet, and sprinted towards the coiling staircase leading up to the lighthouse. as Holland sprinted up the stairs, he heard a loud crash as the shadow hounds forced their way inside. The staircase leveled out briefly on the second story before continuing onto the lighthouse level. On this second story was a large oak cupboard which Holland, with effort, turned and kicked down the stairs. With a smile of satisfaction, He heard a yelp as one of the Hounds was pinned beneath its weight. His smile instantly dissipated as another hound appeared on top of the cupboard and leapt at him snarling savagely. With no room to maneuver his lance, Holland defensively guarded and fell backward onto to his back. The hound collided with the broadside of his lance, momentum carrying it forward. Holland forcefully Kicked upward into the creatures gut with both legs. The sound of shattering glass resonated through the hallway as the Shadowhound sailed out the window. Scrambling to his feet, Holland bolted to the final level as more shadowy heads materialized from the staircase.
The Lighthouse door busted open as Holland threw himself into it. He spotted a woodcutters axe and quickly grabbed it and wedged the door after slamming it shut. It wouldn't hold them for long, but it would at least buy him a little time. Turning around, his eyes caught the ocean and the small fishing Village, as well as even MORE Shadowhounds running towards the village.
"…Seriously, what the hell? This isn't a normal clean sweep. Its almost like a a god damn platoon of these things were ordered here from some reaso…."
Holland stopped mid-sentence as he spotted something on the beachfront…several dots…they looked like…HUMANS! That might explain a few things. Holland Knew that from this distance there was little chance they would hear his calls for assistance. Suddenly a loud bang emanated from the wedged lighthouse door. Whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it fast.
Turning, Holland noticed, with a sigh of relief, that the fire pit was still stocked with dry wood and kindling.
Holland quickly fumbled for his pack.
"Damn…I paid good money for this little thing, I was hoping to use this to make a campfire with wet wood…well whatever. Looks like my ass is gonna be reliant on the handy work of mystic mages yet again."
Holland produced a small red glass vile from his pack and promptly threw it into the fire pit. The glass vile shattered against wood and, within moments, the lighthouse came alive in a brilliant blue flame. Holland turned back towards the shoreline, hoping that the people down there saw the signal and pleading that they weren't Dark Druids. There were way too many Shadow wolves in the area to make an escape. All he could do was wait.
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Quill
Junior Member
Jvala was fascinated by the stinging purple mist that diffused from the dying hound's body. It smelled of trouble. It smelled of the unknown. She was hooked.
The young woman, who, Jvala thought surreptitiously, looked rather attractive, in a harrowed, wind-blown sort of way, displayed dismayingly extroverted behavior by greeting and then moving towards the idiots that had gotten her into all this trouble in the first place. She narrowed her eyes at the three men she could make out fighting off the slavering beasts – a pasty type with a vicious scar, a sturdy, competent-looking blonde fellow, and a conspicuously shorter redhead, whom she had judged to be a scatter-brained girl by his screams. One or more of them was almost certainly being tracked through these foul spectral dogs. But why? And by whom? Perhaps by helping them, she might be able to learn a thing or two about the mystery beasts.
Several more shadow-hounds launched into Jvala's sharper view, hungrily charging the dark-haired woman and the russet-haired man closest to her. Putting her judgments about the odd assortment of strangers she had run into aside for the moment, the mage concentrated on eliminating the threat while closely observing the mysterious creatures' behavior. Spinning almost too fast to see, buoyed by friendly currents of salty air, Jvala Qathor moved to cover the gray-eyed woman's back. As a shadow-hound leapt in a snarling spray of sand towards her neck, her staff shot out like lightning, snapping its back with a heavy blow. As it lay twitching before her, Jvala stabbed it in the eye with her other hand, then turned back towards her companions to assist further.
@SkyGinge @Epiphany
grey987
Man of the Shadows
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a25509e_ResizedVane.jpg.206935a73ef52a816aaaa4e87123ea35.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="65161" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a25509e_ResizedVane.jpg.206935a73ef52a816aaaa4e87123ea35.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Vane's eyes shifted over to glance quizzically at the blond-haired man beside him when he informed him that "he didn't do quick", but regardless of that he soon turned his attention back to the dark hound that now rapidly made its way towards them along the rocky sands of the beach and took two steps backward, watching and waiting to see just what exactly it was that his companion was planning on doing to take care of their lone opponent. The next few seconds that passed were tense, though in the end, his fellow warrior was able to take care of the animal with ease once it had made a more up and close approach towards him, practically tearing it into two halves of a whole before it collided against the ground and disappeared into that same oddly-colored mist. It was quite an impressive display to behold, even if it was only brief in length.
A curt nod from Vane was given in response to the other man after being told to go and assist the other travellers who were currently engaged in battle with yet another horde of the distasteful creatures, trusting that he would be able to handle himself just fine and taking off in a run towards the village on the other end of the beach. What a miracle this was... He hadn't just found one other survivor, but a whole group of them, all gathered here in this small part of Western Valia! It filled his heart with new hope that perhaps there truly was a chance of directly taking on the forces of the Dark Druids, and to reclaim their kingdom once and for all.
In time, Vane was able to make it to the others and he slowed down his pace, coming to a halt in front of the other three people present in the location. "Nice to see that you guys are joining in on all the fun," he commented, deciding to open up with a light-hearted remark to help alleviate any tension currently present between them all. And then, almost as though it were also meant to be a cue, he caught sight of another trio of dark hounds clamoring over each other to get down to the bottom of the cliff before finding solid ground, charging towards their little band at full force. Without another word, the fire magician unsheathed his daggers and flipped them in his hands, throwing them one after the other into the heads of two of the beasts and causing them to fall over and writhe along the sand, distracted by the weapons stuck between their line of sight. They hadn't been killed just yet, but that could be done a little later before they got the chance to get back up.
"Who'll have the honor for this one?" Vane inquired as the last dog in the pack continued bounding towards them whilst barking in a profusely hostile manner.
A curt nod from Vane was given in response to the other man after being told to go and assist the other travellers who were currently engaged in battle with yet another horde of the distasteful creatures, trusting that he would be able to handle himself just fine and taking off in a run towards the village on the other end of the beach. What a miracle this was... He hadn't just found one other survivor, but a whole group of them, all gathered here in this small part of Western Valia! It filled his heart with new hope that perhaps there truly was a chance of directly taking on the forces of the Dark Druids, and to reclaim their kingdom once and for all.
In time, Vane was able to make it to the others and he slowed down his pace, coming to a halt in front of the other three people present in the location. "Nice to see that you guys are joining in on all the fun," he commented, deciding to open up with a light-hearted remark to help alleviate any tension currently present between them all. And then, almost as though it were also meant to be a cue, he caught sight of another trio of dark hounds clamoring over each other to get down to the bottom of the cliff before finding solid ground, charging towards their little band at full force. Without another word, the fire magician unsheathed his daggers and flipped them in his hands, throwing them one after the other into the heads of two of the beasts and causing them to fall over and writhe along the sand, distracted by the weapons stuck between their line of sight. They hadn't been killed just yet, but that could be done a little later before they got the chance to get back up.
"Who'll have the honor for this one?" Vane inquired as the last dog in the pack continued bounding towards them whilst barking in a profusely hostile manner.
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TheDragonMoon
Ethereal Traveler
[media]
(I love music a ton and sometimes I find a track that suits the scene that I'm writing pretty good. It's up to you if you want to listen to it, but I think it gives an extra layer to your enjoyment if you do. I probably won't be doing this for every post, just whenever I feel it's appropriate.)
The ocean was beautiful, as Xaus had always remembered it. It wasn't the unique blue color or the way the seagulls screeched. No, it was the sound of the waves crashing back and forth, the water seemingly stretching into infinity. When he was growing up he remembered he traveled here a few times; spending hours staring at the waves. He never got to come here that often, being busy with things around the town. The rare occasions that there was nothing to be done, he traveled with his sister or mother. There was a serene beauty that the only the ocean held, so serene that it even calmed the turmoil within him, even if it was only by a fraction. Truly magnificent. Perhaps, that is the reason why he had wandered his way back here after the calamity. He stopped to catch his breath and watch the waves for a moment. Things hadn't been going that good for him. Was he going to die on this beach? His determination could only do so much. He had lost his horse when he narrowly escaped the shadow creatures as they burned down his village. Only a few arrows remained, and he hadn't come across any suitable stones during his trek on the beach. Xaus did have feathers from when he successfully shot down a gull a couple days back. He wasn't starving or thirsty, but he was exhausted out of his mind and he felt terribly alone. There was no long term plan for survival. He could only take it a few days at a time, clinging onto whatever life he could find.
He turned his back away from the ocean and continued his aimless wandering, hugging the edge of the towering cliff. The cold sand filled his sandals and rubbed on his feet. Knowing that his shoes was doing him more harm than good, he packed it in his knapsack, making sure that he didn't lose his bow that was attached to the outside of the bag. He picked up his pace once again, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. How long would this beach continue on for? It seemed never ending; sand, ocean, and cliff was all there ever was. He was going to die here alone, have his body eaten by gulls and become another one of the countless lives that the shadows have taken. Desperately, he tried to shake the feeling of dread from his mind. That wasn't going to help him survive. Another bad feeling came across him, but Xaus knew that this time it wasn't just him. This was the feeling that he knew could only bring one thing. Dark magic.
A growl came from behind Xaus that very moment. He turned sharply on his foot to see a wolf formed out of shadowy dark magic, tainting the area around it with the foul smell of death. He tensed up, hating that the enemy was already so close to him. The wolf launched itself at Xaus, barely giving him enough time to react. Thankfully, he had solid reflexes and was able to send a pure wave of magic into his right palm, with which he hit the the wolf's stomach, knocking it back and onto the hard cliff behind it. The beast let out a squeal of surprise as he did so. Time to finish it off. He twisted his wrists slowly and unleashed a bolt onto the wolf, feeling satisfied when he saw the thing fade into oblivion. He heard other howls in the distance, not only from behind him, but also in the direction he was heading to. Great. Going to have to fight either way. He mulled it over for a brief moment and decided to simply continue going in the same direction as before. Not that many options for him at all.
He considered picking up his pace, but he considered it pointless since he would be running to the shadow wolves one way or another. Scanning the cliff side, he couldn't make out any adequate cave among the harsh black rocks. Maybe he would come across a hut or alcove along the way. He could only hope. Xaus walked along without anything occurring for a few minutes until he heard a scream and then what seemed like sounds of intense fighting. In the distance, he could see figures battling the wolves. Other survivors? This would be the best long term survival plan ever, teaming up with other people. They could have a chance if the worked together. He felt anxious at the thought of meeting new people, wondering if they would straight out reject him. There wouldn't be a need to become friends, right? They all would share a common and simple interest that he could work with: surviving to see another day. As the wind picked up, he shivered underneath his his cloak. He wondered if there would be a woman among them.
Knowing that other people was obviously his best chance at survival, he started to run as fast as possible to them. His pack making soft thumping noises all along the way. As he got closer, he could make out their various magics: earth, ice, fire. Other people was good news, but other mages was even better. As he got closer, fat drops of rain fell, drenching everything. Xaus shivered more. When he was about fifteen feet away from the group, he pulled out his bow and notched an arrow in preparation. The group had gotten most of the pack, but there was a lone remaining one. He heard the muscular and dark haired man ask who wanted to get the last one. Xaus aimed and fired at the creature, striking it right through its shaggy head.
He looked at the people standing before him and murmured, "Looks like I got it."
SkyGinge
Sad Shroom
She echoed his greeting, and he smiled to himself. Least she ain't one of those crazy serious stoic girls who's wit (or lack thereof) is just as potent as their swordsmanship. And then she was dashing, running into his open arms. Oh, 'twas love at first sight! She's that desperate, huh? Loneliness does strange things to a women. Fortunately, your friendly neighbourhood Joachim knows the perfect antidote. He thought about calling something witty out to her, but even he knew the middle of a battlefield wasn't really the time or place for meaningful flirtation. 'sides, he was royally knackered, and that tended to mess with his wit glands.
'girl was persistent though, and she kept dashing towards him as if he were an angel in all its shining splendour. Now she was close enough, he could make out her features a little better. Whilst she didn't exactly set the hottie-o-meter ablaze, she was passable, and Joachim certainly didn't see any superior alternatives. Though that look in her eyes stings of 'Unfortunate Past Syndrome', and to hell if I'm dealing with that ruddy nonsense again. Prime enemy of lovin' everywhere, is Unfortunate Past Syndrome; you're having a nice time, and then BAM! She's only gone and dropped some great responsibility bombshell on you and now you're in a right pickle!
To his surprise, the girl ran straight past him and took up a defensive stance, where there approached the second enemy of lovin'; freakin more dogs. Joachim sighed exasperatedly. "How many ruddy dogs are there?" he exclaimed, "Can't they just find a nice big bone to chew on somewhere? And preferably not one of mine?"
Before too long, people were popping up everywhere; it was rather overwhelming to keep up with. First, a dark-skinned women (a bit too old for his hottie-o-meter) flew in faster than a condor on steroids and thwomped a dog on the head. Then a couple more lads joined in, and it seemed like every time they were about to be attack, somebody else popped up to save them. Which was perfectly fine with Joachim; he could just recline in the comfort of not having to do anything. He pulled his arms up behind his head in a leisurely stance and flashed Potential Hottie a grin. "Easy as pie, this," he said ironically, "I could fight them all off with half a fingernail."
Until finally, it seemed like all were defeated. But if Joachim had learnt anything about these creatures, it was that they had a fickle knack of springing up out of nowhere (a little like all these random geezers who'd joined them on the beach). And, sure enough, one last group of them leapt onto the shingle, a larger pack of about twenty, the main bulk of their force. The battle wasn't yet over, but if Joachim was lucky, he could get away with not fighting again!
@Epiphany @Quill @TheDragonMoon @grey987 @Kyte @Kharmin
'girl was persistent though, and she kept dashing towards him as if he were an angel in all its shining splendour. Now she was close enough, he could make out her features a little better. Whilst she didn't exactly set the hottie-o-meter ablaze, she was passable, and Joachim certainly didn't see any superior alternatives. Though that look in her eyes stings of 'Unfortunate Past Syndrome', and to hell if I'm dealing with that ruddy nonsense again. Prime enemy of lovin' everywhere, is Unfortunate Past Syndrome; you're having a nice time, and then BAM! She's only gone and dropped some great responsibility bombshell on you and now you're in a right pickle!
To his surprise, the girl ran straight past him and took up a defensive stance, where there approached the second enemy of lovin'; freakin more dogs. Joachim sighed exasperatedly. "How many ruddy dogs are there?" he exclaimed, "Can't they just find a nice big bone to chew on somewhere? And preferably not one of mine?"
Before too long, people were popping up everywhere; it was rather overwhelming to keep up with. First, a dark-skinned women (a bit too old for his hottie-o-meter) flew in faster than a condor on steroids and thwomped a dog on the head. Then a couple more lads joined in, and it seemed like every time they were about to be attack, somebody else popped up to save them. Which was perfectly fine with Joachim; he could just recline in the comfort of not having to do anything. He pulled his arms up behind his head in a leisurely stance and flashed Potential Hottie a grin. "Easy as pie, this," he said ironically, "I could fight them all off with half a fingernail."
Until finally, it seemed like all were defeated. But if Joachim had learnt anything about these creatures, it was that they had a fickle knack of springing up out of nowhere (a little like all these random geezers who'd joined them on the beach). And, sure enough, one last group of them leapt onto the shingle, a larger pack of about twenty, the main bulk of their force. The battle wasn't yet over, but if Joachim was lucky, he could get away with not fighting again!
@Epiphany @Quill @TheDragonMoon @grey987 @Kyte @Kharmin
Kharmin
Moon Pie Maven
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a6306bf_Stephen_50.jpg.392f1e9d34bff73601d14c0baec3d828.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="65327" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a6306bf_Stephen_50.jpg.392f1e9d34bff73601d14c0baec3d828.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>Stephen kept his focus trained on the injured hound as his companion made his way up the beach to the rest of the melee. The creature whimpered, but still managed to start crawling towards him. Stephen felt little sympathy for it; it wanted only to kill him and the feeling was quite mutual.
Not wanting to waste much time, Stephen approached the thing. He rotated his broad sword in circles as he twirled it in his grip. This would be the easiest kill this week but Stephen didn't revel in such thoughts. He was efficient, to the point and methodical in his manner; the antithesis of his older sister and her chaotic, uncontrolled ways. No, Stephen was definitely not like Desiree and he firmly intended to maintain that distinction.
He stood before the shadow hound and looked down at it. The fire mage's blast had charred a significant portion of the beast, but it seemed to ignore it as if pain were not relevant. Curious that, but it wouldn't stop Stephen from doing that which he must. He pulled back his arm with the sword for the killing strike, but the hound had other ideas.
Suddenly, it leapt at Stephen which caught him completely off-guard. The two crumpled to the ground in a heap and Stephen's broad sword tumbled harmlessly from his grip. He only had time to jam his left arm cross-wise in the hounds vice-like mouth. It clamped down, but could not completely close due to the location of his arm; however, the teeth in the back of its jaws were equally as impressive as the froth-dripping canines in the front.
The hound ripped at Stephen's arm as it tore its head from side to side. It was taking all of his rapidly waning strength to simply maintain the stalemate. Stephen flailed his open hand for his sword, but couldn't find it. He was forced to give up on re-acquiring his blade as he needed both hands and arms to hold the creature. With his arm in its mouth, it couldn't bring its head closer so Stephen grabbed it behind the ear with his opposite hand to keep it from yanking back and taking his arm with it. Undaunted and sensing victory, the hound continued to thrash about as it also clawed at Stephen with its unmolested paw.
Stephen touched his element and tried to conjure another fist of sand, but the incarnation fizzled out on impact and only served to douse the both of them in a small torrent of sand. He grunted at the efforts of the fight and quickly realized just how grave his situation had become.
He summoned up the remainder of his physical strength and managed to roll to the left and quickly change the situation as Stephen was now on top of the hound. He wasted no time as he grasped desperately at his element. The sand beneath the flailing combatants turned soft, like quicksand, and they immediately began to sink.
With sheer will and all of his reserve strength, Stephen maintained his position on top of the hound as it continued to thrash its head and claw at his torso; however, it's efforts were in vain as Stephen sank the two of them deeply enough into the sand so that the hound's head was completely covered. Sweat poured from Stephen's face and arms and mixed with the blood that ran freely over his body but he held firm until, at last, the hound suffocated and then disappeared from his grip.
Stephen extricated himself from his quagmire, crawled to his sword and, completely drained, collapsed on the ground to catch his breath. He fervently prayed that no other hounds would spy his prone form so that he might have at least a few moments of respite.
Not wanting to waste much time, Stephen approached the thing. He rotated his broad sword in circles as he twirled it in his grip. This would be the easiest kill this week but Stephen didn't revel in such thoughts. He was efficient, to the point and methodical in his manner; the antithesis of his older sister and her chaotic, uncontrolled ways. No, Stephen was definitely not like Desiree and he firmly intended to maintain that distinction.
He stood before the shadow hound and looked down at it. The fire mage's blast had charred a significant portion of the beast, but it seemed to ignore it as if pain were not relevant. Curious that, but it wouldn't stop Stephen from doing that which he must. He pulled back his arm with the sword for the killing strike, but the hound had other ideas.
Suddenly, it leapt at Stephen which caught him completely off-guard. The two crumpled to the ground in a heap and Stephen's broad sword tumbled harmlessly from his grip. He only had time to jam his left arm cross-wise in the hounds vice-like mouth. It clamped down, but could not completely close due to the location of his arm; however, the teeth in the back of its jaws were equally as impressive as the froth-dripping canines in the front.
The hound ripped at Stephen's arm as it tore its head from side to side. It was taking all of his rapidly waning strength to simply maintain the stalemate. Stephen flailed his open hand for his sword, but couldn't find it. He was forced to give up on re-acquiring his blade as he needed both hands and arms to hold the creature. With his arm in its mouth, it couldn't bring its head closer so Stephen grabbed it behind the ear with his opposite hand to keep it from yanking back and taking his arm with it. Undaunted and sensing victory, the hound continued to thrash about as it also clawed at Stephen with its unmolested paw.
Stephen touched his element and tried to conjure another fist of sand, but the incarnation fizzled out on impact and only served to douse the both of them in a small torrent of sand. He grunted at the efforts of the fight and quickly realized just how grave his situation had become.
He summoned up the remainder of his physical strength and managed to roll to the left and quickly change the situation as Stephen was now on top of the hound. He wasted no time as he grasped desperately at his element. The sand beneath the flailing combatants turned soft, like quicksand, and they immediately began to sink.
With sheer will and all of his reserve strength, Stephen maintained his position on top of the hound as it continued to thrash its head and claw at his torso; however, it's efforts were in vain as Stephen sank the two of them deeply enough into the sand so that the hound's head was completely covered. Sweat poured from Stephen's face and arms and mixed with the blood that ran freely over his body but he held firm until, at last, the hound suffocated and then disappeared from his grip.
Stephen extricated himself from his quagmire, crawled to his sword and, completely drained, collapsed on the ground to catch his breath. He fervently prayed that no other hounds would spy his prone form so that he might have at least a few moments of respite.
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Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
Rue watched the last shadow hound die twitching on the sands before her, back broken from Jvala's staff, and raises an eyebrow. She'd never thought of the weapon as being especially deadly but the proof clearly showed otherwise.
The arrival of the Fire Mage was welcome but the trio of shadow dogs that pursued them from the cliffs were not. When Vane's daggers slowed two of them, Rue just pivoted in place to balance for a killing thrust at the lead dog. When an arrow shot in, sinking into the shadow hound's neck and killing it on the spot, Rue actually squeaked in surprise, looking wildly for the origin of the arrow. Xaus and his bow were a welcome addition, though.
For a brief moment, Rue's grey eyes swept around her to take in the group that have formed up. One was a tall, lean woman with dusky skin, a fierce quarterstaff and a knack for saving her life (twice!). About the same height was the Fire Mage whose scarred but handsome face seemed to carry an easy humor that belied the stories of fiery tempers for those who wielded that kind of elemental magic. The archer was ridiculously tall, was he actually a foot taller than she? Amazing tattoos, though, and a great sense of timing. And, of course, there was the only person her size here; the ginger rogue whose casual complaining and dismissal of the enemy spoke of the kind of unconventional personality her mother warned her about.
Just then, Rue spotted the blonde armored warrior past the group drive a shadow dog into the sand only to collapse next to it. A moment later, the commotion of a larger nearby pack spoke of the danger. Glancing around, the grey-eyed woman noticed a nearby lighthouse for the fisherfolk of Haearn Awyr Newydd, a flame (was it really blue?) burning in its signal tower. And it all came together for her.
"You!" she said, gesturing to the tall Xaus, then to the downed Stephen "Help me get that man to the lighthouse! The rest of you!" She lifted her sword defensively in her left hand. "Get to the lighthouse. We'll make our stand there. If any of you can slow that pack down long enough for us to shelter inside, do it!"
Rue didn't wait to see what the response was from their newly met band. She just pushed herself into a sprint, racing towards the wounded blonde man. She had to save him. Too many had died already from the Shadow King's forces. From your hands too?
The arrival of the Fire Mage was welcome but the trio of shadow dogs that pursued them from the cliffs were not. When Vane's daggers slowed two of them, Rue just pivoted in place to balance for a killing thrust at the lead dog. When an arrow shot in, sinking into the shadow hound's neck and killing it on the spot, Rue actually squeaked in surprise, looking wildly for the origin of the arrow. Xaus and his bow were a welcome addition, though.
For a brief moment, Rue's grey eyes swept around her to take in the group that have formed up. One was a tall, lean woman with dusky skin, a fierce quarterstaff and a knack for saving her life (twice!). About the same height was the Fire Mage whose scarred but handsome face seemed to carry an easy humor that belied the stories of fiery tempers for those who wielded that kind of elemental magic. The archer was ridiculously tall, was he actually a foot taller than she? Amazing tattoos, though, and a great sense of timing. And, of course, there was the only person her size here; the ginger rogue whose casual complaining and dismissal of the enemy spoke of the kind of unconventional personality her mother warned her about.
Just then, Rue spotted the blonde armored warrior past the group drive a shadow dog into the sand only to collapse next to it. A moment later, the commotion of a larger nearby pack spoke of the danger. Glancing around, the grey-eyed woman noticed a nearby lighthouse for the fisherfolk of Haearn Awyr Newydd, a flame (was it really blue?) burning in its signal tower. And it all came together for her.
"You!" she said, gesturing to the tall Xaus, then to the downed Stephen "Help me get that man to the lighthouse! The rest of you!" She lifted her sword defensively in her left hand. "Get to the lighthouse. We'll make our stand there. If any of you can slow that pack down long enough for us to shelter inside, do it!"
Rue didn't wait to see what the response was from their newly met band. She just pushed herself into a sprint, racing towards the wounded blonde man. She had to save him. Too many had died already from the Shadow King's forces. From your hands too?
TheDragonMoon
Ethereal Traveler
The flash of pride he got from shooting down the hound in one shot faded quickly, him seeing there was more incoming. Where did they even come from? Was it just going to be never ending battle, wave after wave? To make matters worse, the rain came down faster than ever before, making visibility low. He raised his bow again and withdrew another arrow from his quiver in preparation. Barely making out the black and purplish blobs in the distance, he fired an arrow at what appeared to be the leader. The wind blew in a certain direction to give him the sight of the arrow a few inches away from its target. Dammit. It was difficult shooting these far distance targets. Xaus was going to load up another arrow and try to land his shot this time, but when he heard grunts of pain he turned around to see a terrific sight. He saw the blonde haired warrior only ten feet away being brutally attacked by one of the creatures. Too much movement and sand, rain, wind for Xaus to do much of anything. He grimaced as the warrior barely come out on top with a mangled arm and scratches all over his body. What should he do? The battle scene was chaotic; wolves, rain, and blood wherever he could see.
Thankfully, the pretty black haired woman got him out of his shocked state, yelling at him to get the wounded man up to the lighthouse. As she said that, Xaus looked up the towering cliffs and saw the lighthouse not too far away from them. The blue flame inside of it gave him the feeling that this was their beacon of hope. But would it really work out? There would probably be a path leading up to it, but they would never make it. It was a long climb up. The wolves were closing in and dragging a wounded person through the sand as they tried to run there could only get both of them killed. Was this lady insane? When he saw that she had already made a mad dash to the man, he knew he didn't have much of a choice. He considered it a better idea to fight here, combining their fighting skills together and worry about the man later. He sighed and sprinted to help her carry him. If they got lucky, the wouldn't be killed by wolves immediately.
He reached the man who was lying in middle of sticky red sand, doing his best to not groan from his pain. Xaus quickly put his bow on his back and then heaved the injured man up, supporting his weight on his shoulders while trying to not harm him anymore. With his height and strength, it was easier for him to do most of the work dragging the man to the lighthouse. With the thought of a wolf killing both of them, he stoically went as fast as humanly possible to the cliff. He heard more howling and growls that seemed way too close. The man wasn't the lightest with his armor, and Xaus felt a sense of despair once more as he scanned the area for a path up.
Xaus bellowed at Rue, "Do you have any idea how to get up there? We need a path! Or do you have a better idea? The wolves are going to get us any second from the noises I've been hearing."
The rain made it hard for Xaus to get a solid grip on the man. The blue glow of the lighthouse seemed tauntingly far away. And was that a snarl behind him or was it just the howling wind?
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