Fantasy Ris'Saliance Aior (IC)

[RemnantsOfShadows]

Lothie was extremely taken aback when all of a sudden the Horingmar just started spouting off various things. She felt embarassed by his statements, a tad violated, though she guessed he clearly wouldn't know why, a tad insulted, confused by multiple changes in topics, and exhausted by the time he had finished recounting his life story. She had looked around and had spotted that Ascelin and Imrae, who she still thought looked familiar, had glanced at her briefly, noting Zerath as well, and she didn't even see Sebastian at that point. Then she tried to focus back on the orc that hadn't stopped speaking. She had to admit that his history was impressive, but she had not planned for an introduction to turn into his history and a brief lesson on Orcish society and history. She was left speechless and blushing badly by the time it was all over. She didn't know what to do. One of the few conversations she had had outside of her village had gone completely haywire after she thought she was doing the right thing by mimicking him. 'note to self,never mimic Horingmar again, and ask someone else about orcish culture before doing much of anything in his presence, or maybe just try to avoid him. Certainly he can be nice, Zerath said so, but he does not understand other races at all and more socialization would be required to deal with his insensitivity, even though is was probably on accident' she mentally noted. She wasn't sure what to do, how was she to follow that? Lothie opened her mouth as though to say something, but nothing came out so she shut it again.

After a few seconds she quickly said, "I'm sorry I won't bother you again and I didn't mean to offend you if I did, and well, I just, I'm gonna go now" as she quickly remounted Snowflake and attempted to calmly and quickly return to her spot beside Ascelin near the back of the group. Not only did she feel all of the emotions listed above, but she felt additionally embarrassed for essentially fleeing from the orc. She was certain that she was still blushing like crazy and she felt as though she was rude as well, even though there was no reason for her to believe she was. Her horse quickly came to match the pace of Ascelin's horse and she didn't say a word.

Following a silence that lasted multiple minutes, she spoke quietly, somewhat to herself, and somewhat with a hope that Ascelin just might hear her, but that could also end badly. It was simpler when she could just talk to her mom or friends that she had had for years. "Was... Was he right with everything he said about me? Did I do something wrong or is there something wrong with me?" she voiced in a very faint tone. She looked down at her hands as she held the Snowflake's reins loosely. She wasn't sure how she would deal with any answer Ascelin offered, if he even heard her. She sighed quietly, earning a slight whinny from Snowflake as if the horse was trying to cheer her up.

@Aelia Kalasiin Ashes to Ashes ThatGuyWithSouvlaki

 

[Literary Revenant]

The Fun Stuff is Below!

Blizzards and People. Sebastian​

Wind and snow attacked the group. Vicious biting winds of frost and snow battered the Vaskoliir, small ice crystals cutting Sebastian's face; The Blizzard had arrived. The Vaskoliir stopped at a small village that rested on the base of the mountain, about 6 days North of the Tired Tavern. There, the horses were stabled, leaving them to endure the final stretch of their journey on foot. With the winds blowing so hard, it made the silver cloak, which Lothie had loaned him, invaluable. His own jacket was protecting Coridelia from the bitter wind, yet although it was thicker, made of heavier cloth, this cloak was warmer. Maybe it was the woman's touch, providing warmth, but all that Sebastian cared about was his body not freezing. Being a Revenant made him death resistant. However, with winds as cold as an Ice Dragon's breath, Sebastian would rather not risk death by Blizzard.

"Come on everyone! We are only a few hours away! Press onward, we are almost there!" Sebastian yelled, his own voice quieted by the raging voice of the wind.

It was as if the wind taunted him, flaunting its power over him and over all its hands enveloped. A cold embrace only comparable to death, or heartache. Even for Sebastian, this storm was cold, bitter cold. He had begun to worry about Coridelia, her flower eyes would freeze in this weather, but Karasu... That man did not have a jacket of his own, he must've been freezing! Signaling for Horingmar to lead briefly, Sebastian slowed his pace to match Coridelia. Reaching into the pouch that rested on his belt, Sebastian pulled out a small vial of his own concoction. A mixture of Val'Shathok Alcohol, Alveric Oil, Herbs of Joten, and Water from the Spire in Dara'Okarthel. Normally this would create an explosion when combined with a heating agent, like fire or in his normal case blood, but when shaken vigorously, the mixture would create heat.

"Coridelia, take this." Sebastian said just loud enough to be heard over the wind. He gently took her hand, and placed the vial in her hands. "Shake this vial for about a minute. Once opened the water inside should release steam while the mixture emits heat. That should keep you and little 'myo man' from wilting and freezing. After you shake it, open it carefully, the mixture is still volatile and may boil over."

Heeding his warning, Coridelia shook the mixture while keeping little Collie clutched tightly. A slight whistling sound came from a tiny imperfection in the Vial, steam rushing out as if she were boiling a tiny teapot. Satisfied that she would survive until they arrived at the fortress, Sebastian turned his attention to the younger man, Karasu. He kept his arms close to his body, shivering slightly. The ward on his body had been draining his arcane energy and locking it within his heart, preventing it from being used. That loss of energy meant Karasu would have less energy for his own bodily functions.

"You look miserable, I'd offer you a jacket, but mine has already been loaned. Stand still, I know what to do...” Sebastian hid his hand behind his back as he conjured a releasing spell. Purple Arcane glowed in his hands. However, in order to properly apply the Solvent, a large amount of kinetic force had to be used. In other words he had to hit Karasu again... With some mercy Sebastian struck the poor boy again, releasing Karasu from that ward. Karasu had the breath knocked out of him, and that blow would likely hurt for a while. Still the prospect of a full recovery was appealing, he was only collected to be his best, and that ward would’ve prevented that.

Our New Home is Broken! Mixed.​

Finally the Fortress was within view. It was old, heavily worn, and had obvious wounds from wars past. Yet it told a story of great vigilance. Resting on a cliff of memory, forever watching over the northern borders of Joten. Winter had definitely left her mark, causing some windows to crack under the frozen winds. Snow had piled on the towers but it was nothing some good ol’ cleaning couldn’t do to fix that. A short hour passed and they arrived at the gates. The aged wood smelled of faded tobacco, that meant it was from the forests of Brexen, where the Tobacco Guilds practiced their trade. Sebastian stopped by the Gates, no one was manning the fort so opening the door would require an inhuman amount of strength. Luckily, they had one such source of strength, in the form of a giant green, funny, somewhat insensitive orc Warmonger: Horingmar Oruguun!

“Place looks dead. This supposed to be our sanctuary? Looks like stone coffin.” Horingmar said. Sebastian agreed, nodding his head.

“This is the Fortress, my memory is perfect in all things regarding Frostburne. Perhaps our sponsor, The Count, is daft?” Sebastian answered. Zerath put her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, a soft, slightly forced smile, that was very firm and reassuring.

“I promise boys, this is the place but the Count was delayed in his arrival so we won’t be receiving our support for a day or so. We were lucky to get this, even the King wasn’t willing to share Joten’s assets with a hated part of society. Horingmar can you open the door for us?” Horingmar smiled brightly, his hideous fanglike teeth being more scary than friendly.

“Door will fall by my hand!”

Horingmar took position at the door. He placed his War Axe beside him on the snow dusted ground. Horingmar then placed his hands on the door, using his massive strength to push on the door.
“Grrrraaaaaaaaa-AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

His huge muscles were tense, his veins bulged, sounds of cracking wood soon echoed. Sebastian watched in awe as the door actually began to budge inwards, opening! That gate would’ve required a full team of men to open, and one lone odd was opening it with ease. The courtyard was within sight, just a few more moments and...

Evil Infestation! Mixed (Sorta Violent).​

Suddenly a horrific screeching sound thundered around them, heard over the storm and Horingmar’s own yelling.

“What in Melonax is that?!” Zerath screamed in horror.

As Horingmar opened the gate, a huge ghastly, horrifying creature with huge gaping jaws filled with daggerlike teeth. It had multiple arms with knife hands sharp enough to cleave flesh with immense ease. It’s entire body was spiky, demonic. This creature dwarfed Horingmar, standing far taller than him. The Orc Warmonger was shocked, scared even. Unheard of! But then again... wouldn’t you be scared of something like this?!

This creature was a demonic entity known as a Shade. A Shade eats magic to gain power, but they were limited to the Dark Realm of Khaoloras. In order to manifest in the Physical Realm of Vian, a Mage had to have been possessed, and if that was the case, it made sense why the Fortress was abandoned.

Horingmar saw the Shade, sweat trickling down his face. For the first time he was scared, but he was not going to simply stand still and allow the monster to challenge him or the Vaskoliir. He grabbed the Wrayehr Sahn, ready to charge at the enemy. Sebastian knew that was a foolish move, and he tried to warn his friend.

“Horingmar! Don’t charge! It will...”

“Laak’Krogaan! For Ris’Salience Aior!!!” Horingmar then charged at the Shade at full speed. His footsteps heavy and thunderous. Yet the air grew deathly still as the Shade made a simple flick of a wrist, conjuring Onyx Energy to blast the charging orc. First it hit his face, chipping a tooth, then it struck the orc in the lower gut stopping him in his tracks. For the first time since the war, Horingmar felt actually threatened. “Kahah!!!” He coughed. The Shade then proceeded to lift the orc in the air, the black magic grasping him with strange tendrils which resembled the arms of an Pilos. (Octopus.) “Impossible!!!”

The Orc was then thrown through the Fortress walls, stone crumbling and bricks flying through the air. It was like lightning struck the fort, the sound was deafening. Sebastian conjured a barrier to protect the Vaskoliir. A stray brick almost struck Zerath, but Sebastian managed to strike it from the air with a simple Kinetic Whip. Horingmar landed by Zerath, his Axe falling down the cliff. Purely appalled, Zerath turned to Sebastian, hoping he knew what was happening.

“Ramirov, What is that thing?!? And WHAT IS IT DOING IN THE FORT?!?” Zerath screamed deliriously.

“A Shade. A Demon That has taken the body of a Mage to wreak havoc on this world. They often settle in places with high Arcane concentration! This Fort was a ley station for Apprentices when I was in the Emporium, so it makes sense that it is here. And one more thing...” Sebastian answered, speaking quickly and nervously. “They devour souls and Magic, as Vaskoliir, we would all make tasty treats for it...”

“What does that mean?!”

As Zerath spoke, the Shade walked forward, it’s fingers twitching. Left... right... left... right... each step was horrifyingly ominous. The Onyx Energy surrounded it, draining the warmth from the air, making it even colder than before.

“It means we must run, without a Templar or a Paladin, defeating that creature...” in that brief moment when Sebastian tried to explain their next move, the Shade brought down a rain of fire, literal Hell Fire! Black and red flame so evil, all that touch it are cursed forever. Sebastian barely had enough time to push Zerath out of the way, saving her from immense pain and suffering. She landed in soft snow, so she wasn’t hurt, but now she couldn’t directly help Sebastian. He himself wasn’t hurt, However, now he himself was trapped, with a Shade, without a Holy Relic to protect himself, there was no other option. The Shade showed some form of hideous smile, taunting Sebastian. He must have been it’s target, as a powerful Mage he would be a great prize... If that were the case, Sebastian wouldn’t go down without a fight!

“Zerath! Protect the Vaskoliir! I am going to take this monster down!” Sebastian commanded, his voice both angry and caring.

“Wha? What are you going to do?!” Zerath asked frantically.

“What I do best. Collecting.” He answered. He knew normal magic would do no good here, that Shade would just devour it, and seeing how it completely dominated Horingmar, brute force wouldn’t work either, so he needed to use a different weapon.

The White Flame of Dragon Fire, one of Sebastian's most powerful weapons. Perhaps it was the most powerful, for it drew it's power directly from the Dragon's Blood that flows in his veins, and the Celen'Dara that shared his soul... Such a weapon would only be used in the most dire of situations. Surrounding Sebastian was Chaos. Zerath desperately defended the Vaskoliir from the great enemy before them, Horingmar lie unconscious in front of the aged wooden gates of the Fortress, leaving only him to destroy this being. But to resort to the White Flame so early... To fight such a powerful enemy, it almost seemed like they were framed, targeted. Secluded from the masses so that the Vaskoliir would be eradicated.

Sebastian looked down upon the grey cloak that Lothie had given him, but it too had been stained by his blood. Faint smells of Voralian flowers brushed him, rejuvenating his half soul. A pity that it too had been marked with his cursed blood. Taking it in his left hand, Sebastian folded it gently and placed Lothie’s cloak by a large tree, perhaps when this battle was over he would clean and purify it before it to Lothie. This tree, the same tree where Coridelia tripped, dropping his own jacket. It rested half shaken on a fallen branch. The familiar faint blue of Janet’s Templars soothes him, so he took it and pulled each arm through. Such heaviness from the Neyii wool, the broken wards from the Magic Emporium, finally it was the hidden Dragon Scale armor gifted to him by Saras’Tehrixe, Harbinger of Dara’Okarthel, after he had defeated the great Dragon in an honorable duel of Magical Willpower. It was then when he had been deemed Harbinger of the Clan Ramir, the lost Clan. Not long after, he swore fealty to Zerath to defend the Vaskoliir.

Sebastian had no choice, he had to do this, or his friends would die, the Vaskoliir would die, he would die, Lothie would die.... Using his blood as a catalyst for the flame, Sebastian's body erupted in Flame, glowing orange and red. His enemy roared ferociously with a voice that shook mountains. Sebastian returned this challenge with a powerful roar of his own.

“Come On then you Demonic F***! Let me show you a magic you cannot devour!” Sebastian challenged. Zerath, watching from the background, tended to Horingmar, who had been knocked unconscious by the monster. Her eyes lit up in fear once she saw what Sebastian was doing, this horrifying magic, that which only those who have been kissed by death could endure. If this was happening now, he could die. He would die.

“Sebastian! You can’t! The White Flame will kill you!!! DONT DO IT!!!!” Zerath screamed, desperately begging her young friend to stop.

Ignoring his comrades words, Sebastian continued, the flame fully enveloping him. His heart ... slowing. His breath shallow. Death taking him, releasing his life to the control of the Revenant within... Only under this state could he use the White Flame, for it is the only time when Valezeil could reveal her power.

"... Linalis Ezdrinyir, Shiias Ezdrinyir... Ramirov, my darling. I am at your command.” An angelic voice said, quietly, lovingly, like how a mother comforts her child.

"I understand... my mother spirit, if I am to die, then let me die for my friends,” Sebastian said, images of the Vaskoliir flashing before his eyes. “for Zerath, Horingmar, the Nathrien, Ascelin, Karasu... Flower Child, and Lothuialil Calithil. Heh, Lothie, it seems like I may never get to see you smile ...” One final tear ran down Sebastian’s cheek, his heart stopped beating. The flames that enveloped him shone with a pure holy white energy, a flame that wasn’t burning, but was instead purifying. A Flame designed to purge darkness. Sebastian aimed his Dragon Staff at the Shade that threatened his friends. “Valezeil...... FEIAREX!!!!!!!!!"

The White Flame swirled out of his body, completely incinerating the Shade, leaving it unable to move, only scream. Each second where Sebastian had cast this spell, he felt his soul draining, his consciousness slipping ever so slightly. His vision tunneling, focused solely on the Shade.

“I, Sebastian Xelon Ramirov, Harbinger of Ramir, and Collector of Ris’Salience Aior, hereby condemn you! Be burned in holy Dragon Fire!” For a long ten seconds the creature burned, until its legs collapsed beneath it, causing it to fall into the snow, limp and lifeless. Sebastian was exhausted, once the last bit of energy flowed out from him, he felt his heart beat, Valezeil had returned his body to normal, somewhat. A hangover would be expected, very expected. But the Shade stood lifeless, it’s Hellfire gone, and the Fortress was safe enough for the Vaskoliir to settle.

Even in Death, One can Die. (Violent, light gore)Mixed.​

It was Karasu who first peeked his head through the broken wall, he was clearly shocked, appalled, if not downright dumbfounded. Finding such a unique spectacle was rarely found, whether in fancy gardens or glorious battlefields. Sebastian simply sat down and rested his body for a few moments, allowed to recover from yet another battle. Horingmar had regained consciousness, and had started rambling about his War Axe hiding nearby. Against Zerath’s wishes he had stumbled around trying to find it.

Zerath reappeared, obviously shaken and angered by the transpiring events. Sebastian looked at her, smiling beneath his mask. However, she returned his friendliness with a firm slap to his masked face. She used her armored hand to prevent pain, and the blow was enough to cause some severe pain.

“How dare you use the White Flame! If you’d have died, We would have lost our greatest sorcerer, and I would’ve lost a great friend. Your like a son to me, can you imagine what that loss would’ve been like?”

“I can’t imagine it’s much worse than losing your favorite toy. That’s all I am really, just a toy of destruction. My life is broken and ultimately forfeit...”

And yet another surprise... the Shade hadn’t truly fallen, not even the White Flame was enough to completely destroy this enemy. The Shade stabbed Sebastian in the back, it’s hand just missing his heart, but puncturing his lung instead. Sebastian coughed up precious lung blood, small bubbles in the blood proved it. Screaming in pain, Sebastian desperately clutched at the Shade trying to free himself, but the Shade twisted its hand, critically wounding the young Revenant.

“Sebastian!!!!!” Zerath panicked, The Shade was pulling Sebastian closer to it, soon he would be devoured by the creature, unless it could be stopped. But how?! Without a holy relic it would be impossible to kill the Shade! Zerath didn’t have anything from Joten, what could she do?! Every moment she spent thinking, Sebastian grew closer to death, one that he wouldn’t return from. Then she remembered, the gift she had for Imrae, it was not a relic from Joten, but it was indeed considered holy by those who followed the Alveric faith. Reaching into her purse once again, Zerath removed the box, opening it to reveal a metal shard. A piece of Elzaniel’s sword, Felver. She clutched it, the sharp edge still sharp enough to draw blood, her blood; just as it had done in the war. Making a final desperate charge, Zerath aimed the small shard at the Shade, just as it was about to finish Sebastian off with a blow to the heart. Thrusting the blade into the Shade, piercing it’s heart. Howling, screeching, the Shade threw the wounded Sebastian away before it exploded in a flash of white light. Shielding her eyes, Zerath had destroyed the Demon permanently, once the light faded, only the small shard remained where the Shade stood.

Why would The Count give her this Fortress? Could he have known about the Shade? Was this some scheme made by The Count to kill the Vaskoliir before they could realize their potential? Thinking of that made her remember Sebastian! The force of being thrown had caused his mask to fly off, it landing beside him. He himself had been tossed to the eastern wall, beside a portcullis. Blood pooled out of him like a fountain, the liquid life oozing out, leaving the young man barely breathing. He coughed up more blood, it wouldn’t be long before he death would again take him. Tears flooding from her face, Zerath ran to her fallen brother, the young man she saw as a son. Sebastian glanced at her , his eyes glossy and almost blank.

“H-Hey Zerath... Looks like I... wasn’t strong enough.” Sebastian wheezed.

“ ... This ... is all my fault. I brought us here, it is my fault you are here. You are in pain because of me, it’s not fair!” Zerath sobbed.

“No... I chose this path. It’s only... fair... Just make sure the Vaskoliir are ... safe... I am going to ... take a nap...” Sebastian said, closing his eyes.

Finally, Sebastian the Masked Revenant succumbed to his pain, losing his consciousness. Horingmar has returned, his Axe in hand. When he saw Sebastian, he couldn’t believe what he saw; The Masked Revenant beaten, possibly even dead.

“Breyehl Nohr Ramirov? Ishta Zerath? What happened here?” Zerath placed Sebastian’s mask back on his face, keeping his identity protected.

“His job...” Zerath said quietly. Facing the Vaskoliir, Zerath prepared for an announcement. She fought back tears, but she stayed strong. With a stoic heart, she spoke.

“My friends and fellow Vaskoliir, we are finally here at the Fortress. Although the last ... leg of the journey was not what I had planned, we are here. We know start our mission to better ourselves and the world, but all missions have casualties. Our Collector, Sebastian Ramirov, was injured by the beast. As of right now he has lost consciousness, and may not recover. But we cannot dwell on that, we must advance. Me and Horingmar shall make sure the Fortress is save. When we are done, boys shall settle in the West Wing, and Girls in the East Tower. Within the coming weeks, our sponsor shall arrive and give us our dues. Until then, make yourselves at home.”

Her speech was passionate, yet simple, complex and direct. Tears flowed down her face, but she hid them with her hands; brushing away her tears with a flower embroidered handkerchief. Horingmar grabbed his axe and started walking towards the fort, but Zerath stopped him. Her eyes didn’t meet his, but Horingmar knew she was emotionally exhausted. He looked at her, seeing that her eyes were fixed on Sebastian. Without speaking, Horingmar turned and picked the dying Revenant up with great ease. Zerath led him into the Fortress, using a small light crystal to keep the darkness at bay.

Zerath knew Sebastian needed a quiet spot where he could recover. Somewhere the Vaskoliir would not dare to go. The dungeon would make a good enough spot, as long as no one ever entered or disturbed him.

“We aren’t here to fight castle monsters, are we?” Horingmar asked.

“Figured that out?” Zerath mused. “We need to hide him, give him time to recover, if he can. Until then, we will not be taking anymore collections. We don’t have a Collector anymore.” Zerath said, opening the cell to a fairly comfortable looking cell. Horingmar instinctively placed Sebastian on the straw bed, with Zerath placing the Dragon Staff on his chest. “You fool... Why didn’t you listen to me?!” Zerath sobbed, collapsing on Sebastian’s shoulder. He was cold but still breathing, barely.

“Ishta Zerath, Why do you scream?” Horingmar asked. Zerath glanced at Horingmar, her blue eyes Icy and fierce, even frightening.

“That Shade was not there by accident. It had to be a setup, someone wants us dead, and I want to know why.”

READ ME AFTER YOU FINISH!​

This is a long post, so feel free to only use pieces of it for future replies. We are going to do a timejump, after your initial reply, we are automatically (meaning I am not going to write it) jump to 3 weeks after the Shade incident. The Fortress wall will be repaired along with the gate. Any wounds your character might have suffered will have healed. Caravans of people will have arrived, staff, soldiers, along with couriers who will have delivered any important personal items for volunteers, and bare essentials for the Collected. Our next scene will be much shorter, but production on that will wait until I finish some other projects.

Ashes to Ashes Chiba A Wild Kitsune ThatGuyWithSouvlaki RemnantsOfShadows

 

[RemnantsOfShadows]

Lothuialil Calithil​

Lothie stayed quiet for the duration of the travel to the fortress. The snow didn't bother her much, she was used to cold winters, and her cloak was fairly warm so she wasn't too cold. She wondered idly how the others were fairing. She observed Sebastian interacting with Cordelia and Karasu before she focused on the trail ahead. The crunching of the snow under her boots was a calming sound to her as they made their trek up the mountain. She stayed near the back of the group as they left the horses in a town. She disliked having to leave the horse behind after traveling for about a week with it. She didn't focus on that as they walked on. When they reached the fortress, it wasn't quite what she had been expecting. She hadn't exactly been expecting a fancy castle, but she hadn't been expecting a decrepit fortress that had fallen into disrepair either. She looked on as Horingmar pushed the doors open, in awe at just how strong the orc was. Her awe changed to horror shortly after when some strange creature pushed through the doors.

Lothie had seen tribal war before, had been through it with some neighboring tribes, and a little more brutally with other kingdoms, bore some scars from it, but had not been in any sort of conflict that could prepare her for something that monstrous. She was frozen stiff, barely registering that there was a shield around her and the others. She watched Horingmar be thrown through the air as if he was just a doll being tossed away. Her gaze then focused on Sebastian and alternated between him and Zerath. She could barely hear what they were saying over the howling wind and the echoing footsteps of the "Shade," as Sebastian had identified it. At the sight of it and its power, Lothie instinctively activated a ward of protection, even though she was behind a shield, as she had become used to doing as a moon elf during times of conflict. That had perhaps been the only thing about her that her tribe had almost appreciated her for. She was unsure what she was supposed to do. After seeing Horingmar so easily defeated, self doubt filled her. That feeling soon became overshadowed by some innate feeling of being greatly unsettled when Sebastian started to use some strange magic. It was the nature of her magic that she was in tune with the magic energy around her and something about the magic he was using caused some distress as the magic energy seemed especially charged. She had never seen the magic before, but based off of Zerath's actions, she was sure it was dangerous. When Sebastian attacked, she was again in awe about the actions of those before her.

When the magic faded away and Lothie felt the magic energy in the air was in less of a frenzy, Lothie escaped her stupor and watched Zerath approach Sebastian. Lothie was in alarm at Sebastian's state and was even more alarmed when Zerath striked him. She took a step forward, but thought better of intervening when she overheard the concerns that Zerath voiced. She started to calm down as the terror seemed over, but then the cursed monster seemed to roar back to life. Lothie could only watch as even more blood stained the snow around Sebastian and Zerath slayed the beast for sure. Lothie felt so helpless, unsure of what to do. As Zerath spoke, the thought that filled her mind was 'How can she be so calm, Sebastian could die soon.' She stayed outside a little longer when the others started heading inside. She walked over to the cloak that Sebastian had folded and set by the tree. It was stained with blood, but she wasn't concerned with that. 'Why did he bother folding it? Why did he almost get himself killed? Why was that creature here? Why are we here?!' Lothie had no answers for her thoughts.

Lothie was unsure of what to do. She picked up the discarded cloak and finally stepped foot into the fortress. She looked around and saw no sign of the three leaders, but she could hear faint voices, which she followed. She was very stealthy, given her nature and where she lived, so she was near silent. She paused at the top of the stairs and listened to Zerath and Horingmar converse. She was shocked by Zerath's word about someone wanting them all dead. She was used to the thought, most of her village had plainly expressed that her death would be welcome, but she worried about the others. She didn't know them well, but she worried none the less, her thoughts wandering to each of them briefly before her thought settled back to those at the bottom of the stairs. She wanted to walk down the stairs, wanted to ask questions, wanted to make sure they were okay... wanted to make sure that Sebastian would be okay. Lothie contemplated her actions at the top of the stairs. She didn't want to bother anyone. She was sure she was useless anyway. She knew some healing magic and had some elven healing salves, but she was sure her superiors would laugh at her for thinking those would help, they probably had more experience and better ways of healing. Instead, she set the folded cloak on the top step and sighed ever so softly. As she stood up, she started to slowly and silently make her way back down the hallway.

 

[Ashes to Ashes]

Traveling had been harsh to say the least. Traveling for days on end had left Ascelin a great deal more comfortable on horseback, though he somehow still felt that burdening a beast, regardless of its massive strength, seemed a tad unnatural. His horse, however, felt differently, remaining majestic and proud in its steps, never faltering.

Every time they dismounted, Ascelin would take the time to speak with the animal, running his fingers through its mane and patting its nose whilst whispering quiet words of encouragement. The horse, meanwhile, seemed calm, rested and, above all else, strong. “I will call you my friend, horse, despite our short time together. I will care for you as best I can.”

He heard some whispering behind him and turned, seeing the collected staring at him as though he were doing something strange. Perhaps he was, but it mattered little. All living things are deserving of respect and should always be treated with kindness. It was what he had based his life thus far on and he would continue to do so.

***

On the sixth day of their travels, the horse, which Ascelin had called Constance, was stabled along with the others and the young warrior took the time to do so personally, despite the call for haste. Inexpertly he fed the animal and cleaned it as best he could before making certain that there was ample feed and a good blanket to cover its steaming body.

One of the stablehands walked up to the young man and what he had come to see as his horse. “We’ll take good care of her, sir. Don’t you fret about a thing.”

“Yes, I know. But there’s something to be said for the first horse, isn’t there? I learnt to ride horseback on this one. It is… strenuous to say the least,” replied Ascelin conversationally.

“I don’t know nothing about that, sir,” said the stablehand. “All I know is, I didn’t learn to ride from no animal. I had myself an instructor, good one too. Taught me all I know. You saying you learnt to ride just by sitting on the animal?”

“Not quite. I had someone who was kind enough to lend a helping hand and more than a few helping words. I am grateful for them.”

The stablehand scratched his scruffy haired head for a moment before saying, “Sounds to me like you should be thanking her then, seeing as you’re done thanking the horse?” With this, the youngster motioned for Ascelin to move out of the way so they could get to work.

As Ascelin squeezed himself out of the stable, he found the group already waiting impatiently on him. He apologized for his tardiness and joined the others quickly, picking up his pack and hoisting it onto his back with a final thought to his horse who had carried it for him so far.

As the group started walking, he quickly found Lothie and matched pace with the shorter woman. “Thank you for your words of advice, Lothie, they were much appreciated and most helpful.”

***

The snow crunched heavily underfoot as Ascelin’s heavy booted feet made their way through the ever mounting frozen bits of cold. He made sure that those around him could keep up while at the same time keeping the leaders in his sight, loathe to lose them in the storm. From time to time he would reach out to those around him, only to be impressed by their resilience as they trudged on stubbornly.

He saw how Sebastian helped out the collected and smiled. Even the mage of great power, who hid his emotions behind a mask, had a heart.

Then they arrived. The sight was awe inspiring, but not as much as seeing Horingmar push open the doors on his own. The orc’s massive strength was an inspiration to say the least. For a fleeting moment, Ascelin looked at his hands which, though huge by human standards, were but children’s hands compared to Horingmar’s. Would his strength be sufficient to aid those he now called companions? He had little time to contemplate his moment of self-doubt, however, as a shout from the front alerted him to imminent danger. With great strides, he moved forward, only to find himself blocked by Zerath who had placed herself between themselves and the danger, whatever it was.

Then he saw it. Whatever it was, it was dark, huge and powerful. He saw Horingmar laying on the ground and he felt his anger surge. This monster was far beyond him, but it would not stop him from trying. With a roar he pushed towards the door, only to be caught in the blast of Sebastian erupting into the hottest flame Ascelin had ever felt. Searing him, singing the hairs of his beard, it flung the massive warrior back, outside into the snow, where the white stuff melted quickly. With a groan, he got up in time to see a flame of white engulf the monster, faintly heard Zerath shouting before he managed to get his feet under him.

He was unsteady and leaned on a handy wall, still staring at the scene playing out before his eyes, completely unable to help. He saw Zerath slap Sebastian and knew the mage was being berated. He saw Karasu look into the building and Horingmar blunder about with a look of annoyance on his face. No doubt, some kind of honor was injured and needed to be repaired.

As he rested and checked his body for burns, Ascelin looked at the smoking remnants of the monster Sebastian had defeated with what seeming ease. And it moved. Before he could get a word out, the monstrosity struck, bringing down Sebastian with a face that could only be described as gleeful.

The scene that followed left him in awe. Bleeding from her hand, Zerath struck the creature a lethal blow without any hesitation, killing it and leaving their new home safe once more. After her speech and the two leaders taking away the fallen Sebastian, Ascelin moved to the west wing, as directed by Zerath.

As he unpacked and replayed the events in his head he made a decision. He would learn what he needed to learn to grow stronger. He would learn to heal his companions. He would learn magic, no matter how long it would take. As soon as he got a chance, he would speak with Zerath about the possibilities.

 

[RemnantsOfShadows]

Lothuialil Calithil​

Lothie continued down the hallway until she made it back to the main hallway. She felt a little hollow inside while her self doubt ate away at her. She changed her course to go to the Eastern tower. She noticed that the other girls had settled near the bottom of the tower, so she went up higher, a story below the top, she liked her privacy. She opened the door, which hesitated before opening and disturbing a lot of dust, causing Lothie to cough a lot. When the dust settled, the first thing she did was open the window to try to make the room less stuffy. After she did that, she set her things on the floor by the door, shedding her thick cloak as well. She went to investigate a few side doors, finding a bathroom and a closet. The closet held a few cleaning supplies, namely a broom and duster. She quickly pulled those out and made quick work of cleaning her room.

After cleaning up a bit, Lothie took a moment to stand back and look around her room. She went through the dresser and found bed linens, actually dust free. 'Well at least the bedding is clean' she thought after examining it. After making the bed, she returned to her bags and pulled out a blanket her mother had given her to take. Her eyes showed more sadness as she took a moment to look at the blanket before setting it on her bed as well. She stepped back to the doorway and looked around the room. It was rather big, bigger than the room she had at home, and although the furnishing were old and dated, they were still beautiful to her. They reminded her a little bit of paintings that her mother and grandmother had shown her of her great grandparents in their estate. After a few seconds of thought, she sighed. 'I don't deserve this. I'm useless, I didn't do a thing when it came down to a fight. What right do I have to be here?' she questioned herself. She was tense and on edge. She stepped over to her window and looked outside, seeing the courtyard. "I need to release some pent up energy." She muttered. She put her cloak back on and grabbed her bow and quiver. She grabbed the key off of the desk that she had noticed and left and locked her room door. She desended the stairs quickly, but quietly, not wanting to disturb the others who might be resting.

Lothie quickly made her way through a few halls, almost getting lost, then she found her way to the courtyard. She took a deep breath and let the cold air calm her. The blizzard had turned to a light flurry. Her hood was left down so snowflakes temporarily nestled in her hair and shown like gems. She looked around and then headed to a somewhat secluded area of the courtyard after taking ample time to check and make sure that no strange and terrifying monsters were around. When she made it to a secluded section near a clump of trees, she stood still for a moment. At first, it seemed like she was doing nothing, but then a few black targets started to appear on the surrounding trees. It was an illusion, but it gave her something to focus on. She notched an arrow in her bow, took a deep breath, then let some of her tension release with the arrow's release, hitting one of the black targets slightly to the right of the center. She continued shooting her arrows then retrieving them, gradually losing her sense of time. The more she shot, the more accurate she was, soon in a cycle of bullseyes, but she kept going, still trying to improve, trying to prove to herself that she could be valuable in some way, trying to forget the feelings that ate away at her. Each release of an arrow released a little tension, a little self doubt, and a little anger and sadness that she felt, so she kept continuing her process.

 

[Ashes to Ashes]

Ascelin stood in an archway near the courtyard, breathing in deeply from the cold air, filling his lungs to capacity, fully experiencing the sting of the coldness within his body. He was within himself, cross-legged, allowing the experiences of the journey to find their place within him. The feeling of complete helplessness the young warrior felt would become the foundation of growth rather than the anchor that held him in place. His lack of strength and inability to aid those around him, regardless of the situation, would be all that he needed to build upon that foundation in his mind.

But what he needed now, was a teacher.

He had heard tales of magic, but never before seen its awesome power. Now that he had seen it, and experienced firsthand the destruction that it may bring, he knew he needed to become more than just another fist. More than just another weapon. More than, perhaps, he was able to become, but that was hardly a reason not to do it anyway.

He knew what he needed to learn. In years past, there had been a mage in the employ of the underground cages, just to quickly patch people up between bouts. He had seen flesh knit itself together at speeds that were both impressive and, to him, wholly unnatural. All the same, it worked, and he would gladly set aside his misgivings with all of magic to be of greater assistance to those he would have to depend upon.

Then he saw her walk, the girl he had called little, what seemed not too long ago. She was walking into the courtyard, snow settling lightly in her hair and melting away into shimmering nothingness. He looked at her as she walked by, enjoying the view and remembering how, only days ago, she had laughed at the snow settling in his beard and smiled at the memory.

She seemed… distraught, which was hardly strange, considering all that had happened. In a flash, he remembered the vile monster in their midst and brought a massive hand to his face, shaking it free of a memory he would have rather not had. Time, he knew, would heal those wounds. Perhaps not fully, but he would grow stronger from it, seeing as he had not died.

Ascelin had grown up in danger for most of his life and was forced to literally fight for his life. Because of this he had decided that staying alive meant growing, and that not dying meant staying alive. In short, that which does not kill you makes you stronger.

He heard a thud, shaking him from his reverie, then another, followed by one more in quick succession. He stood up, stretching himself fully before taking his first steps towards where the noise was coming from. It was time to train, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

And there stood Lothie, hood down, notching and releasing arrows one after another flawlessly. He had no clue how long he stood there, silently observing her anger being broken down, arrow by arrow before he walked up to her. He had brought some of his staves, all weighted differently for practice and he threw them down in the courtyard to startle the young woman from her practice.

“If you would be so inclined, Lothie, I would enjoy having someone to spar with.” He thought for a moment before adding, “it would, perhaps, help us both work through this… unpleasant memory.”

He grabbed a staff and held it to his eye, inspecting it keenly. “I am a simple man, Lothie. I know combat, it is what I was raised for and what I have practiced for years. It is what I use to get through whatever it is that is bothering me, and it is what I use to grow stronger. Today, it is the former. I want to work through it all and then, when all has settled, find a way to get hands like the healer from my cages.”

As he stood the staff at his side and faced the young woman he ended with, “I would ask you to help me take those first steps. Would you?”

RemnantsOfShadows

 

[RemnantsOfShadows]

Lothuialil Calithil​

Lothie broke from a trance that she seemed to be in when she heard a loud crash in the courtyard. She instinctively turned and pointed her arrow at the possible target, her senses still heightened. When she saw it was Ascelin and that he had just dropped his training equipment, she quickly lowered her bow and listened to what he had to say then she contemplated an answer. A spar would help her train and perhaps forget about some recent events, if only briefly. However, she looked over to the pile of staves and was quiet for a moment. She didn't know how good of a sparring partner she could actually be. Sword like weapons had not really been her forte, she had stuck with daggers since she was young, and had never practiced with something that wasn't lethal since she was 7. Additionally, she didn't know about the weight balance of the staves or what would suit her. She looked from the pile of staves to Ascelin.

"I would like to help you, but I am afraid that I might not be a good sparring partner. I am unaccustomed to fighting with your weapons. Would a person similar to your skill level not be more suited to assist you?" she asked quietly. She would like to spar, but did not want Ascelin to waste his time. She would not be much of a match for him. They were roughly the same height, but he was clearly more built then her. While she was slim and nimble, he had huge muscles and was probably more likely to charge head first into a fight with brute strength if he wanted to. She was a little nervous as well. Her combat style was more distance or stealth, not attacking head on with a sword, so she would surely be beaten easily. She went and got her arrows from the trees they were stuck in before returning to Ascelin to wait for a response.

Ashes to Ashes

 

[Ashes to Ashes]

Ascelin listened to Lothie's statement. Her remark about her level of skill was fair and, to be frank, Ascelin had not expected her to be able to match him. He said as much, but added to his statement. "This is not about who wins or who loses, Lothie. I've found that something as simple as striking with all your might has a rather soothing effect on the troubled mind. I see you doing as much with your bow. I would merely ask that you try with one of my staves. I have a light one here for you, though its flexibility is quite unique. Think of it as close combat fighting with your bow, have you ever done that?”

While he spoke, Ascelin picked up the staff he had mentioned. It was incredibly light, but, he knew it stung like a whip and handed it to Lothie, who inexpertly gave the staff a few confused waves through the air.

The young warrior grabbed a much heavier staff for himself, his favorite. It was rigid, but flexible enough to take and deflect blows while parts of it were shod in steel, easily capable of intercepting swords and other weapons that might otherwise be capable of slicing through wood.

“I tend to stay fluid while fighting with a staff but, because I am quite large, I am accustomed to fighting strength with strength rather than fluidity. Now, come, despite your words giving away your lack of experience, you will need some. Recent experiences have taught me that the knowledge that we have now is not enough to survive in this world. It grows ever stranger, and so we must adapt.”

The massive warrior smiled as he adopted a basic defensive stance, holding the staff diagonally in front of him, giving him the option to react in simple blocks from head to ankle. “Hold your staff as you may have seen a sword held, leaving a little space at the bottom. Now, feel free to strike me as you want, hold nothing back.”

The smile trickled from his face slowly as he settled into his stance with practiced ease. His hands slid into perfect position without even thinking about it. Should Lothie be so inclined, she could strike at him until her strength was spent and, aside from some minor bruises, he would remain unscathed. His hope was that she would be able to break through her insecurities and realize that anyone and everyone had the potential to be a wonderful combatant, but at the very least, he wished for her to feel just a little bit better. With a final roll of his shoulders and the smile now fully gone from his face he said, “Come, strike me down, if you can.”

RemnantsOfShadows

 

[RemnantsOfShadows]

Lothuialil Calithil​

Lothie held the staff she had been given carefully. She had used a sword in combat before, but never often. She almost didn't like that it had such a high flexibility, it jarred her because of her previous experiences with other weapons. She took a few swings that had no real coordination. She took a moment to find its fulcrum because she knew that would help her keep a hold of the staff. Before doing anything else, she took off her cloak and set it on a rock under a tree. It was fine to wear when attacking from a distance, but she was sure it would inhibit her if she needed to move quickly so close to an opponent. The cold didn't really bother her much, and she was sure she wouldn't be very cold after the spar started. After setting her cloak on the rock, she returned to her spot standing in front of Ascelin and readied her staff. She based her stance off of Ascelin's when he got into a defensive position, but tweaked it so it would work better with her and her style of fighting.

"Okay, I'll try." she muttered. She took a moment to clear her mind. She was sure that after she got acclimated a little, she could use her senses and attunement with her surroundings to help her fight, but starting off what probably going to be the hardest part. She tried to think of a more common way to strike and then just tried her best to spar with Ascelin. She didn't strike as hard as he did, but she used her strength in evasiveness to avoid terrible hits. She was happy that he wasn't holding back everything, she would rather the spar be realistic. She was certainly glad that he wasn't going all out. She was sure if that happened it would not end well for her. She would need much more practice with a staff before she could even think of fighting at such a high caliber with one. She also focused simply on what she was doing, tuning out magic. She couldn't neglect her heightened senses that came from her affiliation with her people and her magic, but she refused to use any of her magical abilities in the fight. She wanted to focus on the spar itself, much more simply then analyzing it in another way too.

Lothie spent most of the spar parrying and dodging, only striking when she thought she had a chance. She knew that their goal was not to injure eachother, so neither of them took any strong direct hits that would injure them. By the end of the spar, she stepped backwards from Ascelin and looked to him. She was breathing heavily, her hair was disheveled, and she was sure she had snow in her boots, but she would be okay. She had a few bruises, but nothing that wouldn't go away after a day or two. She had enjoyed the battle. Sometimes it helped to feel the impact of a weapon in her grasp, rather than to send it flying and not really feel the force that it hits the target with. With her few hours of shooting practice and a half hour of sparring, she was exhausted, but much of her tension was gone. She had a faint smile on her face for a moment when the fight ended, but that soon faded as she turned to grab her cloak. As soon as she had stopped moving, the wind and cold had made her extremely cold when combined with the fact that she was sweating as well. She quickly wrapped her cloak around her, hoping that she would keep her body heat and not get sick from the cold. She then returned to Ascelin and handed him his staff.

"Thank you for asking me to spar. It was quite fun and very good training." Lothie said. She hoped that she had done okay. She was sure that she had managed to hit him a few times, but she was sure that most of those were either glancing blows or hits that she had not hit him hard at all. He seemed largely unaffected. "So, how did I do?" she asked.

 

[Ashes to Ashes]

"You are very welcome, Lothie. I am glad I could be of service, however marginal it may have been," said Ascelin kindly. "You did quite well, for someone who does not have much experience in melee combat. I was pleased to see your actual growth in skill, even as the spar progressed. It was impressive."

Taking the staff from Lothie, Ascelin couldn't help but smile, almost like a proud brother would. The girl had worked hard, getting a few strikes in. He would never admit it, but she had performed far better than he had in his first bout. Even so, it would take hard work to grow in strength and skill, though the warrior doubted that she had real interest in such an avenue of learning. This was mostly about letting off some steam, after all.

The girl was slippery, fast on her feet and a deft hand at subtlety. Ascelin wondered where that tendency came from. Perhaps in the time to come they would have more chances to speak with one another, to become friends rather than sparring partners, though in Ascelin's experience, that was as solid a foundation as anything.

As he cleared away the staves, Ascelin couldn't help but notice how quiet the courtyard was, how... tranquil. He sat down heavily, once more assuming his favorite manner of sitting, cross-legged and drank some water from a canteen he had brought along with him while offering another to Lothie.

"What do you think we should do next, Lothie? What do we do now?" said Ascelin with a note of uncertainty.

 

[RemnantsOfShadows]

Lothuialil Calithil​

Lothie had not expected Ascelin to be so casual after the spar. He was being friendly. Friendliness wasn't frequently directed at her by many people, so she was taken a bit off guard. She was happy at the same time. Maybe Ascelin would be willing to be her friend. He was kind to her and it would be nice to have a partner to train with if nothing else. She was not very used to just open conversation with someone she had not known for at the very least a few months. She was also not used to compliments on her skills, or in general, at all, so she stuttered out a quiet "t-thank you." After a few moments of thought, she sat across from him quietly, barely rustling the leaves under the snow. She pulled out her own canteen, but acknowledged his offer of his spare with a small thankful nod of the head. When he asked her what they should do next after a few peaceful minutes, she couldn't help but wonder if he meant in the immediate future or if he meant what they should do to prepare themselves for what would lie ahead of them. She decided to answer with a mixture of answers that combined both senses of the question.

"Well... we continue to train over time, hone our skills, and learn new ones. One person can never solve all the problems, but one person's actions as a part of a larger cause can make all the difference." she stated quietly then answered the question in a more immediate sense. "For now," she said then stood up and slung her quiver over her shoulder, "I'm going to find a place to clean myself up a bit and then get some rest. I don't know what we'll be doing tomorrow, but I'm sure being rested will help deal with it. Besides, it was quite a trip to get here, and quite an exciting day." she responded. She offered a small, faint smile as she looked down at him. "Thank you again for the spar, and I wish you a pleasant night's rest." she said then walked off back towards the fortress.

When Lothie made it back to the fortress, she dropped her supplies off in her room and grabbed her bag and headed out to find some sort of bathroom. They had traveled awhile without stopping and she had just sparred, so she was very much looking forward to a bath. At the bottom of the tower was what was most likely the women's bath. She entered and saw that there was a clean bathing chamber, but no water in the tubs. Lothie sighed and tried to figure out what to do. She looked around and saw a well pump. She was unsure if it would be functioning or clean, but she tried it anyway. Much to her surprise, the water seemed clear and clean. 'Well, it seems like they at least took care of the old plumbing.' she thought as she started to fill a tub one bucket at a time with the bucket that was left by the spicket.

Another thought entered her mind while she did so that wasn't so pleasant. She started to figure that if someone had been maintaining the fortress plumbing, or at least had checked on it before their arrival to make sure at least something as basic as water was working, they surely would have seen the shade or been kept away by the shade. That only played more to the conversation that she had overheard between Zerath and Horingmar. Someone must have planted a Shade there for the purpose of attacking them specifically. If it had been there since the fortress was abandoned, the water system would not have worked at all.

Lothie pushed her negative thoughts away as the tub was filled. The water was freezing cold, so she tried to think of any of the fire magic that she had learned or been taught. Combat magic types weren't really her strong point. She did think of one type of fire magic that she had at least used a few times, so she used it on the tub to heat up the water. She had to jump away as she nearly burned herself because she didn't have full control of the flames, but luckily she was quickly able to prevent anything from getting out of hand.

Once the flames and the water temperature were taken care of, everything else went normally .Once Lothie had returned to her room, she was very tired, but when she laid down, she tossed and turned for awhile. Eventually she fell asleep, but her sleep was very restless as bad dreams and thoughts played out in her subconscious mind.

Ashes to Ashes Literary Revenant