Fantasy CLOSED The Final Game: A Story of Selenia

IC: Mieli Hartsson
Location: Outside the Kharbhatharb Mithril Mine/Reborn Volcano, Kazamy and Paia border

Mieli tried not to think about what the literal blazes happened. His life just got uprooted and he was not plunged to this horrible place… the dreaded above ground. Though these occurrences were not unheard of among the dwarves, it was not as if you could anticipate these things. Especially when you have thought that the volcano was a dead one.

There was something amiss…

Or simply they had been wrong.

Either option did not bode well for him and his people. But that was another matter. Now the drow situation would take precedence, given that his people were very vulnerable to a potential attack.

Especially since they seem to be on a murder spree. Mieli steeled himself, his grip on the hilt of his axe tightened. Trying to filter all distractions, distractions like his agoraphobia… Breathe, focus… Kill the Drows, check the area then come back to help. Easy peasy...

TAG: @darthbernael

IC: Branka

Branka glared at Samhain “I will get you next time!” he pointed his index finger at him, then wiped his mouth and the beard. Then shifted his focus back on the table, trying to think of a course of action. That Samhain blowing his people. Will teach him!

He mostly ignored the newcomer and took a swig of the beer and grimaced “So what do I need to wager so that my guy will find and kill those Drows?”

TAG: @Sinrebirth @darthbernael @Corellian_Outrider @galactic-vagabond422 @Ktala @Shadowsun @greyjedi125 @Adalia-Durron @Kurisan

 

A most enjoyable combo with our awesome GM, @darthbernael
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IC: Xenos Jehuty
Rising to the Challenge

Everything else became muted as Xenos set his mind to deal with the harpies.

With his eyes, he perceived their movements, their rate of motion along with their relative sizes. He'd learned well from his mother; that some harpies had the ability to enthrall with song. That’s why he emitted the dissonant note, as it would thwart any such attempts.

As before, Xenos’ physiology responded to his need, as inherent strength coursed through his veins. In truth, it wasn't something he did consciously most of the time. Taking a leap, he cleared the longboat, then ran up the side of the ship, as normally as any youth would a set of stairs- it was a feat he considered ‘normal’.

Xenos had already spied the canopy of weaved ropes and sought to exploit the clever maneuver. After leaping unto the deck and rebounding off a mast, the dark haired warrior found himself atop the rope canopy, brandishing both of his blades.

No, he didn't find this foothold to be strange or odd. A canopy made of rope was just another kind of surface, after all.

Xenos shifted his weight, testing the strength of his surroundings, and found it more than satisfying. Inside a heartbeat, a harpy was swooping down at him, talons extended. Without the slightest hesitation, Xenos launched himself skyward after bounding off a rope and slashed as he rose, slicing open the harpy fully, then flipping in place and severing her head with a swift chop.

'Fast and Fatal', that was his unspoken motto.

Even before the dead harpy’s corpse hit the makeshift canopy, a second harpy was diving straight for Xenos. The warrior twisted in mid-air and adopted a defensive fetal-position as he fell downward, tactically intercepting the extended talons with his greaves, which left him free to sunder the harpy with his blades.

Xenos bounced up after landing on his back and shoved the second dead harpy using the momentum of his bounce. That’s when he smelled the foul stench of necrotic magic. Indeed, different types of magic had different scents, but most men were completely unable to perceive it.

Motion caught his attention then, and he beheld a horrifying sight. The dead harpies were rising once again to unlife. It wasn't a mystery, that creatures raised to undeath gained prowess in their ability to bring death - but at least these two would not be enthralling anyone, of that he was pretty sure.

Xenos stayed low and made a flourish with his blades as he regarded the new, deadlier threat.

“If there’s a holy priest down below, now would be a good time to make your presence known!” He shouted to those down on the deck level, his eyes never leaving the harpies. Xenos doubted such a man would be found on this ship, but he asked just the same. Blessed phials of healing had quite the violent reaction when applied to the undead. Xenos hoped for a chance to demonstrate.

Xenos remained focused and battle ready, even as the sailor handed him the satchel which contained the priestly vials. Only five in total. He’d have to use them as tactically and sparingly as possible, for there could be wounded after the battle.

The brave sailor that had assisted him was snatched by one of the harpies, who sought to carry him off to his death. Xenos reacted with incredible tactical speed, as he kept alert for any attacks on his person, even as he removed a single bluish vial from the satchel. He could feel the salve pulsing inside his hand and knew that it had been blessed, as he had hoped.

Inwardly he thanked the gods for the winds that caused the fleeing harpy to struggle in her flight. It allowed him to throw the vial with incredible accuracy at his target. Xenos threw the vial with additional strength with a purpose. The vial would explode on contact, the ensuing spray hopefully healing the sailor from any sustained wounds and causing the harpy to disintegrate.

He silently prayed the sailor had been released over water.

Despite his alertness and defensive movements, Xenos felt a sudden slash rake his naked back. It felt as if he’d been scourged with a red-hot barbed whip, but he was conditioned to resist such levels of pain. The warrior rolled forward, just in time to avoid the second strike, which whistled through the air on the spot he’d been occupying. As he rolled, Xenos nimbly took a second vial and doused the blade he had on hand with the blessed healing liquid.

Though it would seem a waste, he reasoned that killing an undead harpy now meant more living sailors later.

As he rebounded, Xenos flipped upwards from an inverted position, slashing diagonally, fully intent on bisecting the undead harpy from hip to shoulder. The grievous wound was simply a delaying tactic, as he expected the blessed unction to undo the very evil that sustained and reanimated that which was no longer living.

In single combat, he knew he had the advantage. However, despite the winds, he could hear the plethora of harpies that had begun to surround the ship.

The harpy that had been carrying the crewmember off shrieked in a disappearing fury as the vial hit. The sailor’s own shriek cut off as he hit the water, luckily feet first, although even with the healing he may end up with a turned or broken ankle from the impact.

A sound came to Xenos’s ears and a moment later, the Captain appeared, a crossbow slung over a shoulder, a quiver of quills at his hip. The cutlass he’d drawn earlier was held in a practiced grip in his right hand. His shirt was slightly open, a gold chain visible. Turning so his back was to Xenos, “I may not have your speed but two is always better than one.”

He pressed his hand to his chest once more, eyes closing for a second. Opening them he yelled up at the circling creatures, “Come get some! You will not take my ship!”

Standing behind Xenos, the mercenary may miss a slight shimmer that came over Rian for a moment but most likely he wouldn’t miss the shimmer that crossed the ship. What was revealed, for only a heartbeat, could possibly cause concern. In Rian’s place for that fraction of a moment was still a human shape but looked like a long drowned man. The shimmer that crossed the ship gave it, and the crew, a similar appearance, as though a ship that had been pulled from the depths, crew and all.

A solid nod was given to the Captain. It was good to fight alongside another man at arms, especially after losing his comrades. That, or at least the Captain respected mercenaries just enough to fight with one during a pinch. In the end, it didn't matter why he did it.

Xenos was ready to take on the horde of harpies, then something happened.

He smelled magic, then saw something in-between the blink of his eyes. The magical shimmer had encompassed the ship, revealing something different, then disappeared from perception.

"Captain....is there something I should know?"

Rian chuckled. “The Contemptuous is the flagship of the HRH fleet. She, and we, just happen to be more than that. We have sailed the seas for many a long year, the original Contemptuous was lost, with all hands, a decade ago.” he replied as the harpies seemed confused by the wave of magic so were circling.

“We took their place before the loss was known and have served with distinction since. The hands come and go as their service is completed, their debt paid. But there is always fresh crew waiting to board. You will be returned to Oriaburg and none will be the wiser. Think of it in these terms, you have been given aid, by the Divine, so you may serve whatever purpose awaits you.” His eyes glinted, suggesting he knew more of what lay in store for Xenos than he had yet said.

Gazing up at the harpies, “Ah well, their purpose is done, for you, at least.” His voice seemed to change for a moment, the razor sharpness in it at odds with the cultured voice he normally spoke with, “This one is under His Grace, for the nonce, depart for other prey.”

The harpies shrieked, several beginning dives toward the ship but being cut off by others. Rian pointed toward the shore, “There, take your fill.” And then turned toward Xenos, his voice returned to normal, “No one would believe you if you tell what you have seen, and you would lose what temporary Grace of his you have seemed to receive.”

Xenos waited until the harpies had gone before turning back to the Captain.

He had to admit, he was surprised at how they had been commanded away, but was in no position to question an end that was to their benefit.

The story of the Contemptuous was quite intriguing and piqued the young warrior's curiosity. Xeno's mother had regaled him as a child with many many tales of both the Marvelous and the Dreadful, underscoring the constant duality that permeated the world. To be part of such events, even in a small scale, was a great honor.

"I am in your debt, Captain." Xenos confessed with a nod, then sheathed his weapons.

"I wish to know who favors me, that I may pay the appropriate tribute." He declared, now handing back the priestly satchel with the remaining vials. He could feel the pain on his back subsiding already, though the gash would still be present. With enough time and rest, it would be gone. There would be no point in wasting a single precious vial, now that he was no longer in combat.

"I return these to you. Thank you...and have no worries, it matters only that I believe.Your secret is safe."

A small smirk appeared on his face then, as the battle focus was once again dialed down.

"So, what exactly does the King want with me?" he asked conversationally, hoping to get an inkling of what awaited him back at the capital.

Rian took the satchel back from Xenos, smiling. Gesturing, the two men made their way down the netting to the deck. When they arrived, he turned back to Xenos, “You may pay tribute to he who rules, who watches over us all.” While not a direct answer, it was enough that the man would know who he spoke about.

He gestured to one of the crew and shortly a member of the mess appeared with two goblets. He offered one to Xenos and took the second, sipping from it. “This tidal wave, it seems to have been just the start.” he began as a response to the question. “Some seers have given description of things to come and have seen several beings set to oppose it. I was given the order to seek you soon after the King’s seer had a vision so it seems likely that you are one of those that has been seen.”

He sipped again, “Given what I saw of your abilities I’d say you were already blessed by another God or Goddess.”

Concerning the question of tribute, there was a moment Xenos would have assumed the captain referenced Cayden of the Seas, but something told him that was not the case, given the unique condition he shared with his crew.

He would have to give that matter further thought, as it was only right to offer tribute to a benefactor, especially on elf divine origin.

As it was, the young warrior easily accepted the goblet he was offered and sipped from it, much as the captain had. He was a guest aboard a ship and would follow suit in the manner of his host. As he continued to listen, he couldn’t help but to note the potency and zest derived from the libation.

Mmmm. It tasted so much better than anything he had had before, and was nearly distracting…but not quite.

“The King’s Seer?” He wondered aloud.

Xenos knew of visions, oracles and auguries, but never imagined that one would ever involve him. The only way to learn more about this mystery was to go to the source, thus, he settled the matter in his mind. He would see the King and his Seer.

Not missing a beat, Xenos took another swing of the goblet before answering the captain regarding his origins.

“My mother, well, the woman who raised me as my mother, was both beautiful and wise, if not a bit overprotective. She told me my birth-mother had disappeared shortly after I was born and seemed consumed by grief. There is much speculation as to who my real father might be, but I’ve learned to honor them both regardless, thanks to the woman who raised me.”

The words had been spoken with a bit more edge than he had originally intended. Another hearty, and much needed gulp followed the end of that statement.

“So whether blessed or cursed, I make the most of the lot I’ve been given.” Which was a sentiment the captain could likely understand.

“Cheers.”

Xenos raised his goblet and toasted the captain. They had prevailed together against the harpies and had a journey ahead of them.

“So, what of the other captain…?” the mercenary warrior inquired after a moment. “I’m afraid I left half of my gear with him.” He said with a shrug, then gestured to his bare upper torso.

Rian chuckled, “We can find you something in the meantime but,” he glanced to the shore, where Seamus stiffened for a moment in the battle, nodded, then returned to the fight, “as much of your gear as possible will be returned. I cannot guarantee how soon, but it will.”

His eyes followed the flight of the harpies, as they wheeled and dove on the pirate’s ship, coordinated attacks from several directions at once. “The other Captain, well that depends on how swiftly he drives off the bird-women. If it is soon, we will be able to get them off the beach, if not...I must return you as ordered. And then his fate is in the Gods hands.”

One of the passing crew caught the Captain’s attention. “Sir, netting is coming down, prepared for your orders, cast off or assist the pirate.”

Rian’s eyebrow rose, as he’d mostly avoided using that term with Xenos around but it was true. “Hold position for now but have the rigging set for immediate departure.” he responded before turning back to Xenos. “Your captive is in the brig, when you’re ready to interrogate him.”

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IC: Ma’at
Realm of the gods

Her emotions she kept in balance as much as possible, while succeeding on remaining placid in her demeanor, at least for the moment. What was Anubis playing at? She didn’t like him meddling in the affairs of her champion. Then again, this was the god that presided over death; so very unlike Isha who at least respected the Balance of the Cycle.

It was becoming clear to her why Huitzilopotchi initiated such a terrible game. He was weakest during ‘Peace Time’ and his worshipers faltered in this Age of Ennui. Still, the destruction of Selenia and all who lived upon her was not the answer to that problem.

And now Anubis was attempting to manipulate events to steal her champion from her.

Ma’at met the Jackal headed god's gaze with equal confidence.

“I know he can handle it.” she retorted . “His mother thought him well.”

Ma’at spoke boldly, but within herself, there was a spark of worry despite her words. Freedom of choice was the real continuous test all beings faced. The real challenges came when the choices were few and nuanced and the game was just getting started. Mortals in general were fickle creatures, yet full of hope and possibility. Getting the right champions to come together was going to take some real maneuvering from all the gods who wished to win the game in favor of Selenia.

Anubis’ real intent was hard to read.

Fate always followed her own rules.

Samhain would remain enigmatic as ever.

Morrigan was a wild card.

Mystra, Isha, Enya, Branka, Cayden. They drew strength from the land and its peoples, as did Ma’at. It was no coincidence that Huitzil threatened them all with his actions…his Game.

The other gods had to find a way to coordinate and rob the Dark Ones of their advantage.

“We can handle it. We always do.” Ma’at found herself adding, though not clarifying exactly what she meant.

Before turning back to the board, Ma’at took up the wine goblet, but did not imbibe. She merely made small circular motions and caused the sweet bourbon within to slosh rhythmically.

She grew silent and let her eyes regard the champions.

Xenos was out of danger for the moment. It was now a waiting game to see what this King had in mind.

Sarathai might soon need assistance, but first the elf had some critical choices to make.

Nissa was in conference with a powerful Elven Mage, so she would have to wait for results.

It did look as if Malagath could need a hand, but she did not wish to be premature. The debt she owed him would be paid, at the right time.

Ma’at allowed herself a small sigh.

Branka was mistakenly blaming Samhain for the misfortunes his champion had to currently endure. Did he conveniently forget how this all started? Well, that didn’t matter now. Helping Mieli was the best way to get the Dwarven Paragon onboard, as it were. Of course, the manner in which to do that would require some timing and finesse.

The Drow Elf was gaining too much momentum and needed to be slowed.

The Dragon however; dealing with dragons was never a simple thing.

As she gazed upon the board and studied it in order to glean the best course of action, with her free hand, the goddess of balance produce a lustrous Winged Golden Sphinx figurine. She held it just so, especially for Huitzil to see it.

It was a token she intended to play, specifically to block and counter the use of Huitzil’s ‘Thoth’ token.

Two can play that game.


Tag: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth, @Shadowsun, @Ktala, @Kurisan, @galactic-vagabond422, @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral, @Adalia-Durron

 

Sarathai (combo with @darthbernael )
The Woodlands, border of Tu and Long



Sarathai hurried through the devastated forest, her heart breaking anew upon each wrecked glade that she came upon. The laments of the dryads and the fairies filled her heart and made her weep.

There was that foul presence, too, lurking just beyond her perception, radiating malice toward her. She tried to ignore it, focusing on her mission. But it mocked her, deepening her despair for the fate of the forest.

‘Little elf, how will you save the world when you cannot even save your people from the wolves?’ its voice hissed in her mind. She shook her head furiously to banish the thought.

For a while, it went away, which made her all the more wary.

O, but the familiar paths had been washed away! Sarathai’s sense of orientation was profoundly disturbed by the catastrophe – the channels of magic that ran beneath her feet were corrupted and unfamiliar. Everything smelt differently.

A path opened and she followed it, but was that fear or intuition that guided her? She halted abruptly, her senses in the dimensions of magic tingling with warning. Her malicious shadow had returned, and was stalking her again. She had been misdirected – she! A Wood Elf! Where was he herding her and why?

She closed her eyes and listened. What was that whispering on the wind?

One howl sounded, others following. Beside the howls, very few sounds carried on the winds. Very few creatures still remained in the woods, save the creatures that had managed to hold their own on the trees as the wave passed. And now they were fleeing again, images of enormous wolven creatures in armor filling their minds.

The sky began to fill with fell clouds, red-bellied. The rain that fell from them was hot and thick. The sounds of thunder began to echo in the air and the cracks of lightning that filled the sky was a blood red as it approached her. And then she saw that the lightning was being directed as a bolt fell from the sky, exploding a small badger in one second.

In the aftermath of the bolt, her vision began to return. As it cleared it became immediately apparent that she was no longer alone. Along the trail, both for and after, were dark tall beings. Another flash of lightning revealed them to be Canim; wolven creatures, in full armor, teeth bared, paws filled with jagged swords.

“Little elf, death or capture, which is it?” came as a low growl from the one closest to her.

Sarathai gasped, recognising the Canim - gigantic beastmen that each towered head and shoulders above her. She bit back her fear and pulled out her dagger. The weapon was tiny compared to their great bludgeoning blades, but she ignored their mocking and met their eyes with a defiant glare. The hot rain ran down her face and bare shoulders.

“Return to your lands and leave me be, or you will regret it...”

A shadow detached itself from the trees, stepping out into the ruddy light from the clouds. The paw-feet and snout poking from the robes let it be recognized as Canim but the robes themselves told what he was, that and the red glow where one hand was dipped into the bag at his waist, a Ritualist. The robe itself was almost as horrible as the aura of death and blood that radiated from him, it looked to be made from a mix of human and elven skins.

Sarathai's defiance faltered as the Canim shaman showed himself. Her nostrils flared at the stench of dried blood and death, all the more pungent in the rain. She was wary of the beastman spellcaster, knowing their chaotic powers could match her own.

He shook his snout, the hood falling back, revealing cold, emotionless eyes. His gaze raked hers before turning to the one who had spoken to her. “This one...she’s been marked.” He shivered for a moment, an odd touch of fear seemed to flow from him in that moment, “One of Them is watching over her.”

The flat expression returned to his face, as it turned back toward her. Even so, he spoke to the squad leader, “Injured, slightly broken is fine, as long as He allows. Take your time but she is to be brought to the encampment.”

He turned, eyes focusing into the distance. Then, oddly, he knelt, bowing his head, then stood, pulling his hood back over his head, and disappeared into the woods once more.

Sarathai blinked as he withdrew. He seemed to have sensed the shadowy fiend that stalked her. That was odd; the shaman said the creature was watching over her? Had she misunderstood their dialect?

She had little time to consider this further, as the Ritualist gave his order to growling wolfmen that surrounded her. They crept closer, closing the circle, evil intent in their glowing eyes.

Sarathai decided that waiting for them to make the first move might be her undoing - if they all attacked at once, they would surely overwhelm her.

She sang out to the brambles at one side of the glade, just beyond the aggressors there. At her call, the thorns grew into dagger-long darts and spat at the backs of the Canim warriors. Their armour would protect some of them, she knew, and the thick matted fur that covered their hides would render some of the spikes useless. Her hope was the distraction would turn their heads long enough for her to make a dash for escape...

As the squad closed on Sarathai, their excitement was almost palpable. Not just any elf they were here to take but one of import. Hungry grins crossed lupine faces as the circle closed.

Suddenly yips and yelps began sounding from the pack, thorns and brambles getting through on several of the squad, past their armor and fur. Bodies shifted and two of those on the right of the line spread out, a gap, narrow but there. The squad leader saw it the instant it happened and growled out a command, “Close the line…”

Sarathai dashed for the gap the moment it opened, spreading her legs into an agile sprint. The rain cascaded from her hair and legs, spattering from the earth as she passed.

She did not think she could outrun the massive lupine creatures, but completely surrounded she had stood no chance. If she could keep moving and maybe repel small groups of them at a time, she might just make it. And she was in her own terrain - albeit damaged and suffering of the effects of the tidal wave. The magic of the trees was weakened, but it was still there.

Her heart pounded with fear. Slightly broken is fine, their shaman had instructed. She had no doubt they would enjoy inflicting this condition upon her if they caught her...

The moment she began to move the squad leader growled, “Stop her…” The two closest reached for her but her speed meant that all they caught were snatches at her slippery wet arms as she blew by them. Noses sniffing the air to keep her scent fresh, howls rose behind her and the Canim took off in leaping strides.

As she ran she would catch glimpses of yellow eyes in the trees, Fishes was pacing her easily, a sense of laughter emanating from him. He was enjoying this chase as much as the Canim behind her. Sarathai skipped over gnarled roots and ducked under lashing tree branches. The trail was obliterated by the sea anyway, so she headed off the path and through the glades. She dodged between trunks, as agile as a goshawk.

But she could not shake them. The howling chased her, filling her heart with dread. The supernatural fiend seemed to be all round her, too, enjoying the hunt and her distress.

The closest Canim was several paces behind as the chase began and several hundred paces down the trail she felt a buffet against her legs as he caught up, deliberately hitting her trailing calf, attempting to spin her and disrupt her smooth motion. The scent of wet dog began to catch up as the wind shifted, now coming from behind her and she knew the two she’d run past were catching up again after that first attempt. She felt the blow against the back of her legs, skidding her off balance on the wet ground.

She used the momentum to turn the fall into a graceful pirouette, turning to face her attackers as she slid to her knees. As her hands touched the ground, she dug her fingers into the loam and invoked Siodh Silverhyl, the Mistress of the Marsh. The magic flowed through the sodden earth, and the waters welled up suddenly.

Her two would-be captors would find themselves suddenly waist deep in a sucking morass. But the fen was not enough to snare any others.

Sarathai skipped to her feet again, and again resumed her desperate flight.

The two lead Canim howled as they were sucked into the ground. The sounds warned the others of the treacherous footing and as the rest of the squad caught up, two of them tossed ropes over tree branches and then looped them for the first two to pull themselves free. The rest of the squad loped through the wood, almost as at home in it as she was.

A growl from the squad leader and two of the eight remaining Canim split off, disappearing off to both sides of the woods as they ran. It would quickly become apparent that they were working to flank her from both sides as she’d catch glimpses of the massive creatures darting around the trees nearby. Several whistling noises alerted her to the fact that the Canim had small, spring loaded, wrist crossbows. Not very effective at more than about ten paces but still, high speed slivers of steel being shot at someone would be enough to cause them to move faster or possibly miss their step.

A whisper reached her mind, Fishes taunting her, ‘Better run faster, little elf, or those Canim will get tired of trying to catch you alive…’

Sarathai began to tire. The constant fear and hounding, the mocking of Fishes, began to take its toll upon her.

She was sure that fiend was also sapping her energy, leeching through some invisible magical tendril he had coiled about her. Even the warm rain that soaked her body seemed to weigh her down. The fizzing darts were woefully inaccurate at present, but as they got closer...

Enough!

Sarathai knew she could not shake this pursuit. They were playing the long game, tiring her out so that she would be too exhausted to put up a fight when they finally cornered her. She could not evade nor hide from them - they had her scent.

She needed to change the situation. She needed help. She cast about, trying to recognise where she was in the wrecked woods. Fear turned to panic as she realised there were no elders in this part of the forest - far from the Deepwood and so close to Long.

No, wait, there was Neihbeam, by the brook. He was cantankerous and almost always unhelpful, but he liked Sarathai on his good days.

She turned a corner and pushed herself to the limit, sprinting for the glade. The ugly clouds above bled the colour from everything, casting a shadow over the land. She felt the power of Isha's life magic retreating into the soil; awaiting the return of Spring before it would appear in green shoots again. She prayed Neihbeam was still awake and that his roots ran deep enough.

And then she was where she needed to be, rustling through the draping long beards of the ancient willow. Here it was dry, shielded from the rain. Already she was whispering to the old one, beseeching his aid - gently, for Neihbeam did not take kindly to commands or urgency.

Sarathai sang, her voice light and ephemeral, drifting between the curtains of willow leaves. Any Canim that entered this place would have a very nasty surprise.

The Canim knew of these ancient places and as the she-elf burst into the glade that housed the ancient willow, they slowed in pursuit, spreading out to cover as many points of the compass as possible. The two that had been trapped in the morass made their way to join the others and there were a series of yips and snapping barks as they demanded to attack and punish the elf.

The squad leader tired of their complaints and decided to demonstrate why they stayed away from the great tree. The backhand lifted one of the whiners from his feet and into the foliage. The branches reacted instantly, coiling and trapping the wolfman. In seconds he was strangling, hanging in the air, even as he attempted to claw and rend the encircling wiry branches. Coughing barks of laughter sounded from around the glade.

The squad leader gazed through the thick foliage, seeing her near the trunk, “You can only wait it out here for so long, little elf, before you need food. We can wait that long, or longer.”

Well... he is right, Sarathai scowled. They had shown enough intelligence not to charge in after her and meet their doom. All she had succeeded in doing was trapping herself.

She paced around the trunk, thinking furiously. It was better to be still rather than trying to think while running at full speed, but the deadly peril was still exhausting. She kept catching glimpses of them, daring to poke their noses at the edge of the dangling branches to sniff her out.

She could not stay here forever. Sooner or later they would realise that Neihbeam was falling asleep again... or that fire would repel his branches. She also sensed the fiend lurking, just beyond her perception. The foul stink seemed to always to sap her energy and confuse her thoughts.

Sarathai listened as intently as a wildcat stalking prey through the undergrowth, clutching her dagger to her chest, waiting for a sign that one of the sentries had fallen asleep or lost concentration. And she whispered a last, desperate plea to Neihbeam, for one more gift...



Meanwhile, the trees at the edge of the glade swayed for a moment, as though shrinking away from something. What walked into the clearing was a tall Canim, dark furred but that was hard to tell as it wore a robe over its armor. If one did not take a second look they would make the assumption that it was another, more senior Ritualist to the one that had told the squad to hunt her, not kill her. That was, unless they saw his eyes. Some Canim did indeed have yellow eyes but these eyes were a molten gold color.

The eyes looked up into the tree, humor in them. The squad leader came up to the ‘Ritualist’, “Do we truly need your magic to get her out of the tree?”

The Ritualist looked down at the smaller Canim. “I was the one who told your pack to cross the frontier. And yet you cannot trap the one being I would keep alive, because she is needed.”

He lifted his head again, seeking her out among the branches. Between the two of them he knew she would know exactly who he was. “Little elf, you have a choice. Take your chances that they can be distracted, starve in that tree as he sleeps again, or you can go where I was guiding you, in my company.”

A dark smile crossed his face “Let me help you…” His eyes blazed and suddenly Neihbeam began to shudder, the ancient willow fighting the magic being pressed upon him. The branches swayed and shook, groans of wood creaking filling the air. The Canim around it looked on with odd expressions on their faces. The battle went on for several minutes until Neilbeam began to settle down, calming and his presence receding.

“Now you only have two options, little elf.”

Sarathai reeled as she felt Neihbeam slip into slumber. She had only just finished the gift that he had so generously given.

Her eyes narrowed and she shouted out to the entity, "Why should I trust you to take me safely from this place?"

Fishes, as yes it was he, laughed, a barking sound coming from that muzzle. “You stand in opposition to my Master’s plan, yet he desires the game to last. So while I will make your life ultimately miserable, it also means I need to keep you from random ‘accidents’,” The Canim squad froze for a second before every pair of eyes took on the same golden tone as the supposed Ritualist. “…which this packlet of Canim had planned after the chase.”

He concentrated again and the squad’s eyes returned to normal, little whines filling the clearing. The squad continued their circling of the tree but kept their distance from the Ritualist now.

Sarathai prepared herself within the disguising curtains of the great willow. She knew the being had somehow induced the old man Neihbeam to sleep once more. That was powerful magic indeed. If the Canim discovered her sanctuary would no longer protect her...

She crept out, slowly, cautiously, toward the being. The draping willow leaves still obscured her partially, and she did not speak.

Then, at the last moment, she revealed that she had a short, flexible javelin. Old Man Neihbeam had given a little of his own flesh and the Treesinger had shaped it with her voice. Now it glowed with emerald magical energy.

"Not good enough," Sarathai said, flinging the missile directly at the fiend.

Fishes smiled as the javelin left her hand. He had been expecting the young elf to have something up her sleeve. The bolt crossed the distance and exploded in a green flash of energy. Just before impact, he shimmered and a shrieking falcon shot skyward. As it did, the magical stench diminished, although Sarathai would not realize that was because the Naagloshii could hide it, at will.

The Canim looked around, blinking, temporarily blinded by the magic.

Sarathai took her chance, sprinting once more for the gap in the line. She was through in an instant. This time she splashed across the nearby brook, skipping along so quickly she seemed almost to walk on the water. When she had put sufficient distance between herself and the Canim, she crossed to the bank and resumed her flight on land, hoping she had done enough to put them off her scent.

Her brow furrowed as she ran. She had to succeed. She had to get to the coast, to a boat. Isha had set her on this path, and she had made a vow...



Tag: @greyjedi125 @Sinrebirth, @Shadowsun, @Ktala, @galactic-vagabond422, @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral, @Adalia-Durron
.

 

IC: Ma’at
Realm of the gods



She watched, taken in by the scene, by the very flow of favor, seen and unseen.

The Canim Warriors, The Ritualist and the Foul Messenger. They conspired to bring an end to Isha’s chosen champion.

Ma’at watched her run, watched her draw on the ebbing powers of the forest as she fought on bravely, despite the odds.

Sarathai managed to find temporary solace in the embrace of the ancient Neihbeam, but that too was fouled. Ma’at felt herself frowning, but managed to compose herself.

But all was not lost.

A glint of hope did appear. Neihbeam had lent his strength to Sarathai, and the wood elf’s singing even reached Ma’at’s ears.

The Emerald Javelin was an answer given form. Life would not go quietly.

Nor would it fight alone.

Once again Sarathai ran, her motions empowered by her will to survive.

Ma’hat sighed in relief.

The goddess of balance sent her breath to enhance the wood elf’s speed. No Canim would catch her now. What’s more, Sarathai would kick-up dust, in quantities that would confound Canim senses so she would not be tracked.

Above them, angry red clouds roiled bursting with energy.

Ma’at flicked a pinky.

Thunder boomed and red lightning flashed as it descended near the Canim. Their armor was a natural attractant for lightning, while wood and earth were not. If the Canim chased after the fleeing elf, they would certainly have to contend with the very possibility of a lighting storm bursting over their heads. They would risk being electrocuted on the spot.

Wind, thunder, lightning, ash. These were all brought about by events set in motion. Yet, even during such catastrophes, balance had to be maintained.

Ma’at brought the wine cup close and enjoyed the aroma for the moment, even as she watched Sarathai make her escape.


Tag: @Kurisan, @darthbernael, @Shadowsun, @Sinrebirth, @Ktala, @galactic-vagabond422, @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral, @Adalia-Durron

 

IC: Nyruel Guldor

To say Nyruel was ecstatic at the recent turn of events would be a gross understatement, in truth, he could barely contain himself. To be given command over these beasts, he could not believe how quickly it all happened, the troops he now had at his beck and call, it was exquisite. His thoughts drifted to events of the previous day, that of the voice, it was unmistakable Anubis, it had to be, what other divine being would congratulate him? Perhaps the one Falcons served although Nyruel felt that was unlikely. No, it had to Anubis. Which mean he was watching him, for how long? The mere thought of it brought the drow delight.

“Well, little drow, it seems you may just get a chance to see how your new friends do against the elves very soon. A friend of mine just let me know he is guiding someone this way, and has riled up the Canim patrols on the border.

His attention then turned to Falcons, he contemplated the statement for a brief moment before replying to the creature.

"Is it the wood elf champion?"

Falcons chuckled, “Knowing him, he would not have reached out to me unless he had found his target and his was this wood elf.”

He paused for a moment, tilting his head to the side once more, another laugh coming out of his snout, before looking back at Nyruel, “If Drasag has not told you, there was what appeared to be a ritualist that stirred up the patrols on the border, causing them to have already crossed it, before we arrived. That too was him.”

His eyes glinted, “With luck, one of those patrols will run into her shortly. Otherwise, I do know he is herding her toward us and you and she may meet very soon.”

Nyruel leaned on his staff, feeling the magics dwelling within, he smiled fondly on the memory of its creation, a private ritual he conjured in commemoration of Anubis. He opened his mouth to speak, not looking at Falcons as he did.

"Excellent I look forward to it"

He tilted his head, thinking for a moment.

"Perhaps it would be wise if we had the Canim invade Man Caelora sooner rather than later, if we capitulate the government quickly we can use the Drow forces as our own."

He turned to survey his surroundings breathing in contemplation.

"Although it would be foolish to spread our forces too thin" he muttered more thinking out loud absently to himself than anything else.

Falcons smiled thinly, this one had been wisely chosen. “Smart move. The Canim are plenty but causing discord by removing the priestesses will already cause a void that can be exploited further once word of such an alliance you have made become more well known.”

He reached out, letting his senses travel, jumping from Canim to Canim as he moved closer to the border. There was some excitement as a ritualist entered a patrol house. He stuck closely as that Canim spoke to a patrol area commander. What he heard made him smile and return back to his body.

“It may be wise to move up to the border directly, I just was privy to a report at one of the border facilities. It seems a squad ran into a female elf, your little elf friend. And are now in pursuit.”

Nyruel smiled thinly at this news, he picked up his staff, banging it once to create a red disc beneath his feet. It then floated a few feet in the air, as he turned to Falcons.

"Let's go then, my feathered friend."

A dark smile and Falcons shed the guise of a Canim ritualist, returning to that of the large falcon. A deep-throated shriek emerged and they exited the building. At speed they crossed the kilometers, the duo now becoming known, especially as a pair of Canim from Drasag’s original squad were loping alongside the disc as it flew over the ground.

Much of the earth was torn up now, from the masses of troops headed toward the border. They caught up to various formations, growling, barking cheers coming from hundreds of throats as they passed. The border approached quickly, and a small townlet hove into view. Falcons winged toward the largest building in the town and at the door, he shimmered for a second and the ritualist form was back. When Nyruel stopped, Falcons turned to him, “The one in the armor with a red pauldron on the left side. That is the commander, the one who just received the report.”

Nyruel nodded, waving the disc away as he landed on the ground. He moved toward the commander, Nyruel's eyes locking with his instantly, not a tinge of fear dwelling within them.

"I trust you know who I am?"

Without giving a second for the beast to speak Nyruel continued.

"Where did you see the wood elf?"

The border commander saluted, fist over heart, “Commander, yes.”

He turned to the ritualist that was, even now trying to crawl up the wall behind him, eyes wide and locked on Falcons. A barked command and the other slunk to his side, “This ritualist was present when the patrol found her. They were ten kilometers inside the border of Tu when he saw her himself. He warned them that the orders were to capture, not kill her before he returned here.”

He looked at the ritualist as though to command him to speak, without saying so.

The ritualist shivered as he looked at Falcons again before speaking, “I did, yes. And when I was leaving I heard the sounds of pursuit so they could be even deeper into Tu now. I do not have a definitive location because I returned to report.”

The drow remained firm, a small smile creaking onto his face at the salute. Nyruel then turned to Falcons.

"Yes why are we keeping the little wood elf alive, would it not serve our goals better if we just killed her?"

The question was out of practicality but also the awful sensation of thinking about having to work with a wood elf, even if it was pretend.

Falcons eyes flared a deeper gold as his smile unnerved the ritualist even more. Turning his snout slightly he looked at Nyruel, “Do you believe you are the only one chosen of the Gods? You have an advantage, you may say, that both your patron and one even more powerful are supporting you. But he that is above does not wish the others to believe it is rigged, therefore he lets the champions wander the world, trying to counter his Destructor.”

His head cocked, turned and looked at the guard by the door. “You may wish to open that before a large bird knocks it down…”

Before the guard could move, the door blew inward and a falcon that looked very similar to Falcons in that form appeared. It flared and in its place stood another massive ritualist, likewise with golden eyes. “Falcons.” It growled, humor in its voice.

Falcons grinned, “Fishes.”

Nyruel, felt a small tinge of being unnerved by Falcons, although he did not openly state it. So it is against the rules, so be it, we can do it the hard way. He thought inwardly to himself. The drow then turned his attention to the newcomer, so this must be Falcons associate, how most intriguing, he wondered absently to himself how strong these being truly were.

He tiled his head, taking in the creature before speaking.

"A pleasure to meet you Fishes, I trust you know where the wood elf is?"

The second, golden eyed, ritualist smiled at the true ritualist, enjoying as he squirmed before turning to Nyruel. “You must be our new little friend. Oh yes, I know exactly where she is. The real question is, how do we play this so that you seem another champion aiding the current order of Selenia.”

Falcons chuckled, “I do have ideas there. But I too am interested to see what the Drow has as ideas.”

The drow smiled at this, thinking to himself, for a moment before speaking.

"This has been something I've been considering over the course of the past day, and yes, one main issue that comes to mind is the history between our people, I suspect no matter what we do she will attempt to attack me."

He paused in thought, his eyes gazed downward as if solving a complex puzzle.

"Best if I go alone, along with Falcons, perhaps again you can be used as 'verification' as it were. Unless of course, you have any other suggestions?"

A look passed between Falcons and Fishes before both turned their looks on Nyruel. “That works, to a degree.”

The gaze of both naagloshii turned predatory. “But, do you think that she would be more inclined to trust you, to take you in, if you come with one of us in tow, when she could surely catch our ‘scent’?”

Falcons stepped forward, almost looming over the drow with the height of a Canim. “Or would she want to do so more if you appeared that you were being pursued by a pack of Canim, being driven on by one of us?” he asked, in a very soft tone.

He stroked his chin, thinking for a moment. Seems he made an assumption that was not the case.

"So she does not trust you Fishes? Very well, that makes sense to me, trust built through my actions rather than my words."

Fishes snorted, as Falcons stepped back a pace, chuckling. Fishes spoke, “She doesn’t have your good sense, immediately saw me as a threat to the elves and many other of the races. So no, she does not trust me or see me as any type of ally.”

Nyruel chuckled, tilting his head.

"Well she isn't wrong the wood elves will burn to ash, come show me the way"

Falcons turned to the Border Commander, "Nyruel has the two Canim that accompanied him, we need a squad that you would consider the most expendable of your troops, to follow the orders of me, through those two."

The Canim behind the desk nodded, calling out to one of the guards posted on either side of the burst door, sending one to retrieve the squad. Falcons turned his gaze on the ritualist, "Boo!" then chuckled as the Canim once again attempted to climb the wall.

Turning, he and Fishes led Nyruel out of the building, where the two from Drasag's squad were waiting. Behind them, ten more Canim were lined up. The fists of all twelve bounced against their chest plates in salute when the trio exited.

Falcons smile was predatory once more. A thought drifted to Nyruel 'Once this meeting is done the chase will begin and feel free to use your magics, when we get close, to kill any of that squad provided, save the two from Drasag's squad.'

"Very well" spoke the drow elf, conjuring his signature red disc beneath him that elevated a few feet in the air, no doubt the Canim would be amazed by this small display of power.

"You are to chase me down my Canim friends, once we intercept the wood elf I will make a show as if I were fighting you. For all tense and purposes try and kill me."

He knew of course even if these beasts really did try to kill him he could dispatch them all for they were no match for him, he was blessed by the gods, watched over by none other than Anubis himself, how could these beings even possibly compare.

"Run little drow..." spoke Falcons, Nyruel's eyes glinting in response, with that he whizzed off the Canim in pursuit, off to collide paths with the wood elf known as Sarathai.

TAG: @darthbernael

---

IC: Anubis

“I know he can handle it.” Ma'at retorted. “His mother thought him well.”

The jackal god barked a rare laugh in return. His gaze cast downward to view how Xenos was faring against the harpies, quite well it seemed good, he would make a worthy opponent for Nyruel. He then cast his attention to his own champion for a brief moment, noting his progress before turning his attention to the wood elf, assisted by none other than Ma'at. The jackal god let out another laugh, Ma'at and her obsession with 'balance'. Of course, the balance could mean a whole host of different things to different people.

To Huitzilopotchi, it meant the upheaving of the natural order and the realignment of the mortal races, one could argue it meant the balance between those that sought to change the world in this grand upheaval and those that choose to keep it the way it was, but Anubis cared not for this balance, in truth he cared little for if the mortal races all ceased to exist, although he supposed that would mean there was no more life to draw from. In any case, whoever won there would still always be life and death, just who
was alive and who was dead would all be that changed, and to Anubis it did not matter who was alive and who was dead, only that Nyurel 'win'. But there was one balance he did care about, the balance of the game, he would not make it too easy for Nyruel to win, nor would he allow the task to be impossible, if he was to win he must earn his right to win.

"Xenos makes a worthy champion" intoned Anubis, his thoughts still cast in regards to the wood elf.

"I do hope Sarathai will not be requiring the assistance of Ma'at for the entire game." A joke from the jackal god, it would be clear that he was in a good mood, but then his demeanor turned more serious.

"I trust you will not interfere when Nyruel and the wood elf meet Ma'at, rest assured if he makes any attempt on her life, which it would appear he will not, I will personally intervene."

The steely eyes met with Ma'at before casting towards Isha, they would know his words to be true for the jackal god did not lie, only speak in half-truths.

Tag: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 , @Ktala, @Kurisan, @galactic-vagabond422, @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral, @Adalia-Durron

 

Isha
The Realm of the Gods



Isha watched with increasing dismay as the game unfolded. A tear rolled down one cheek at the senseless destruction of the forest. So much life taken... She felt the pain in her stomach as her manna was commensurately diminished.

Her champion quickly became beset on all sides by hostile pieces, closing in to trap her. But a single avenue of escape still remained.

Run, Sarathai, run! she willed her little elf on.

Sarathai became trapped, in the temporary sanctuary of Neihbeam - an Ancient that Isha had nurtured from seedling. Isha gently gathered the tear on her cheek using the tip of her finger, and touched it to the tree. Her green magic manifested through the grumpy old spirit, to indirectly gift Sarathai with the javelin.

The distraction bought Sarathai only a moment. Isha held her breath, preparing to make her roll. Would she be eliminated from the game so early?

Then Ma'at offered her assistance, a breath of balance to give her fleeing champion more speed, and a threat of lightning to deter the aggressive wolfmen.

The dice were cast, and Isha sighed. Sarathai was free for a little longer. The goddess of Life inclined her head in heartfelt thanks to Ma'at, while Anubis complained loudly. He joked, but Isha knew he was growing impatient to capture her piece.



She felt her old adversary's stare upon her and turned slowly, to face the confident smile.

Anubis had outmanoeuvred her, again. Nyruel had surprised her. Isha had chosen Sarathai for her compassion and appeal, so that she may gather friends. Her boast seemed very hollow now - the Drow champion had proved her wrong; he had amassed an army in a very short space of time, while Sarathai remained alone.

And despite her slipping through the trap this turn, Sarathai was surely going to be intercepted by Nyruel now. Anubis had her only playing piece almost within his grasp.

Isha addressed Huitzilopotchi. "If Sarathai can resist Nyruel, I wish for a boat, so that she may leave the shores of Eosucera. What must I wager?"

Tag: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 , @Ktala, @Shadowsun , @galactic-vagabond422, @Corellian_Outrider, @TheAdmiral, @Adalia-Durron

 

Cayden Cailean
Realm of the gods

“Our champions are paired by fate, might we add more to the elements to blow away the harpies?" He peered at the map. "Where should we push little Malagath and Xenos? Towards? Away from?”

Cayden had been mulling over this question, this though. It was in everyone's best interest to get the Champions together Huitzilopochtli, Morrigan, and Fate be damned. This was no game and they knew it. The accidental god wasn't going to stand for any of this. Though he knew that this was a tight rope he was walking. And in his day Cayden could keep his balance even when three sheets to the wind.

Then Isha made her request...a boat, if her champion could escape...a smile played across Cayden's face.

"Well Samhain, my friend, I believe we have our destination. A breeze to the south should be enough to do it. And if some of our other fine members could make it worth poor Mal's while I'm sure we can get a not just a boat, but a ship to dear Sarathai." There was a part of Cayden that hurt doing this to his champion, turning him into just a piece on the board. He would make it up to the brigand, one day. A few casks of rum, a free pass to travel the seas once this mess is over. He would make it right, but the world needed to be saved first.

TAG: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @Kurisan

 

~OOC~ Special thanks to @darthbernael for this joint post!

~IC~ Sagitar
Location - Woodlands - South of Steammouth - Preilia

Sagitar glanced down to the two men on the branches below and then back to the majestic Roc.
“If you seek to eat them, I advise against it. They’ve been bickering the whole way and could possibly disagree with your stomach.”

A sense of amusement radiated from the giant bird, "Yes, flying on an upset stomach is almost as bad as on an empty one."

One large eye gazed at him again, "Human, the little robin did not pass along your name, its mind too preoccupied on food. I am Primeclaw, Patriarch of my roost. The Robin stated you needed travel, escape from this flood."

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Primeclaw.” Sagitar bowed as best he could while keeping his balance. “I am Sagitar, an envoy from the University of Edocaster. The Robin’s statements are correct. A tidal surge and landslide has disrupted my journey to Oriaburg and I fear this is not an isolated incident.”

The head turned and the other eye now gazed at him, "A pleasure, Sagitar, your name is known among the roosts. You are correct, this is not isolated, the entire surface of Selenia was affected. Beyond what you spoke of one volcano here on Klemea, at the top of the Spine, has erupted and the dormant volcano under the Kharbhatharb mine has as well."

His wings spread, rebalancing, before his head lowered close to Sagitar once more, "There is chaos upon Eosucera, but the worst effects seem to be occurring in Qedraerhiel on Tiocreron. The shining city is in ruins, the forests on fire, Drow plundering their way across the nation, and lava pouring out of the passes and across the land."

Sagitar’s brow furrowed as he took in what Primeclaw had related. “Selenia is under assault from all sides.” He shook his head sadly. “Given the severity of the conditions, Qedraerhiel may require my presence the most.”

Primeclaw nodded, the boughs shaking at the movement. "Qedraerheil it is then." His head rose suddenly, sharp gaze turning to the south, the entire tree shaking this time.

His head whipped back, ducking down so his thick ruff of feathered neck was by Sagitar, ignoring the shaking, "Swiftly, wizard, up onto my neck, something soars this way, something dark. Let us away to the Elves. The two men will be safe from what comes, it wants you."

Sagitar carefully climbed up onto Primeclaw and hugged his neck gently.

“You have my gratitude, Primeclaw.” He whispered.

Primeclaw spread his wings widely, "You needed aid and I am the best suited, Sagitar." he replied before the was a jolt as he swept his wings downward and lifted from the tree. Several more jolts followed as he gained altitude.

Soon the ride smoothed out as he caught an eastward flowing thermal. Around, above, and below, evidence was plenty of the destruction that had been wrought. The forest was devastated, the mountains likewise, the waters were still receding. Even at a mid altitude there was some ash in the sky. Behind there was a plume spreading it's darkness from the heart of one volcano and the dark, boiling clouds of the second were racing westward now.

Primeclaw moved from one thermal to the next as he flew, crossing the Howling Isle in seconds. They passed north of Shelrior Holm but the new flatness of that island was visible, the soil ripped from it muddying the waters around it for kilometers. They made landfall of Tiocreron and Primeclaw began to descend.

The cracked and broken crystals of E'Mathalas soon hove into view, their northern side having taken on a reddish hue from the reborn volcano to the north. He spoke again, "I will land by that giant golden tree in the center. I believe the Council meets in it's boughs. I will wait to see if you need my aid again, Sagitar."

Elves and little creatures scattered as his legs extended, claws scraping over the tiles of the city, before he came to a halt, large wings whipping up a wind. Lowering his head so that Sagitar could dismount, he turned his head slightly to watch, "Good luck wizard and as I said, I will be here when you are done."

Once Sagitar’s boots touched the ground, he turned and bowed again to the Roc. “Thank you, my friend.” He straightened up and smiled. “May fate smile upon us all.”

He turned to the great golden mallorn tree and adjusted his belt as he walked, unfastening his staff from it. He used the staff as a walking stick, the base clopped on the ground with each step as he approached the bough with haste.

TAG: @darthbernael

 

(A combo post between @darthbernael and myself)

Malagath "The Black"

The pirate sat back on the beach downing more and more rum letting it ease the pain in his arm. It was a long process watching people other than him and his crew touching his ship. It wasn't as if he had much choice in the matter, his crew was battered and bruised and would take time for them to do all the work. If someone else was willing to do the work for them and wasn't going to kill them, he'd take it.

"Easy lads." Malagath called out to his crew that was still milling about picking up the pieces, those that could. "Let's let them do the work." As the Coxswain came closer Mal nodded his head. "It would be most unkind of me to reject your assistance in this matter…" He looked with an arched eye brow at the flag and wood in the other man's hand. The pirate was no stranger to setting limbs or even cutting them off should the moment call for it. "One moment…" He said holding up the bottle of rum. Taking a long drag from the bottle he nodded to the doctor giving his assent to set the broken limb.

Even with all the alcohol in his body it still hurt a lot. A strangled groan left his throat as he downed yet more of the amber liquid. He didn't have time to recover as ear piercing shreeks reached his ears. Lovely just what this day needed, harpies…

"Don't need to be told twice." He said to the coxswain drawing a hand crossbow and drawing down on one of the bird women. "Arm yer selves lads, I don't particularly want to be on the menu for the Feathered Nest." He called out to his crew letting off his bolt and drawing his boarding ax.

Seamus smiled as the man’s hands filled with the small crossbow, pirate he may be but at least he could get the job done. He led the crewmen from the Contemptuous toward the other ship, the chains hanging free for the moment, as they battled the harpies. As he closed he felt something and knew where it was coming from. An image formed in his mind, of some sort of gear, on the ship, and the hint/order that he have the men retrieve it. He knew who it was from and he nodded, so that that man would know.

He and his men swarmed up the side of the ship and into the rigging, swinging their cutlasses at the flying bird-women. He left the pirates to follow their captain’s orders but sent his men among them to assist. Coming back down from the rigging, he encountered the captain again. “As long as we can keep them off the ship I can get a small crew back in the boats and drag you free.”

"We'll do what he can." Mal said burying his ax into the skull of one of the harpies. "Gather 'round the Bow lads. Give the regulars a chance to pull us free." With a wide swing he clipped another schreeking monster pushing them back. If he had a moment he might of looked to where the merc he saved from the water was. But there wasn't time for that, he had to save his ship. The pirates were forming a ragged battle line hacking down the attackers with whatever they could get their hands on, boarding pikes, axes, crossbows or cutlasses. A monster dove at him only to be taken down by two arrows to their chest he recognized the fletching Sea Hawk feathers, those were Corydon's arrows. A small smirk came to his lips as he battered another beast away.

With a quick look over his shoulder he checked on the other crew's progress, a slight miscalculation and another hybrid swooped down on him jaws open. There wasn't time to swing so he did the only thing he could. Shove his splinted arm into their mouth and let their teeth bury into the Elven oak that made up his ship. The bottom teeth still dug into his arm but the wood kept them from fully ripping his arm off. With a heave he pulled the monster in closer slamming his ax into their back and watching them go limp.

"How we going!" He called out over his shoulder.

Seamus nodded and his crew swarmed over the side, headed to the longboats. Another message came to him eliciting another nod. A whistle and two of the crew recovered the gear from the pirate’s longboat. They joined the others and the Contemptuous’s boats set out, chains rising out of the water, attached to their sterns.

A deep groaning came from the hull of the ship behind them, the rowers straining as they pulled. No progress was made at first and then there was a sharp Pop and the boats skipped forward a few paces. Getting into a rhythm, they pulled for all they were worth, making headway meter by meter. He could hear the sounds of battle behind him and encouraged the rowers, “Pull you dogs, get this thing off the sand!”

Hearing the shout from the ship’s captain, he looked back, calling up, “Halfway down the beach, the highest water is touching the bow. Five more minutes and we’ll have you free.”

The ship was starting to move, finally, Mal's arm was beginning to tire blood rolled down his other arm that was now throbbing in pain. But he wasn't going to give up, there would be no giving up. This was his ship his freedom, and he wouldn't give up a single shred of it. A few crewmen were carried off but he kept fighting. With a swing of his axe he clipping the wings of a harpie before slamming his heel down on their neck crushing their throat. A strangled croak came from under his foot, there was no time not with more monsters flooding in.

"Keep it up you bastards, we're almost free." They were falling back as the ship was pulled closer and closer to the sea. In the back of Mal's mind he worried about having enough crew to continue. They'd lost a few in the wave, and a few more to these monsters. He would need more crew undoubtedly, maybe he could start with that man, the one he saved.

The crews pulled and pulled, the longboats slipping forward. And then the water began to assist as the hull of the ship, or perhaps part of it was the magic woven into an elven ship, and the boats began to glide forward.

They pulled until Seamus looked back and the ship was fully in the water. Turning back, he had them stroke a dozen lengths further, pulling it deep enough to allow it to maneuver on its own. He looked up at the side of the Contemptuous and had an idea. Before they rowed back to release the chains, he had the boats curve their path and pull the other vessel closer to theirs, as he noticed the harpies were no longer circling the Contemptuous.

As the other vessel closed they must have come within a defined boundary around his ship as the harpies broke off their attacks. He signaled and the longboats reversed their strokes and pulled closer to the pirate vessel. Looking up, “You’re free and looks like those bird ladies are leaving. Toss down the chains and we’ll call it square.”

With a woop the crew swarmed back over the deck quickly moving to survey the damage, the ship's carpenter barking out orders to get the repairs started. Mal wiped the edge of his ax along a bit of canvas that had fallen down cleaning his blade. As the other man called up he moved to the fore of the ship looking down.

"That man, the dark haired one in the armor, I'd like him returned to me...He's one of ours."

Seamus glanced up at the man, a smile touching the corner of his lip as the chains fell into the water. “I do believe he has a prisoner and my guess is he and Cap’n are busy having a talk with that one. But I’m sure that can be discussed. If you, and a second if it makes you feel better, wish to come across I’ll let the Cap’n know.” he said before the crew pulled over to the Contemptuous and he swarmed up a rope ladder that had been thrown down, landing on the deck.

Mal looked to Corydon, his first mate and shook his head.

"I don't what to have risked all this for nothing." Malagath said.

"It's just one man." Corydon countered.

"A man we could use," Mal looked around surveying the damage and injured crew.

"He's not like us Mal, he's a good man."

"We're good men too. Just in a different way." Corydon just furrowed his brow. "I'll give him a chance, besides he gave his word he would return...does he seem like the kind of man to go back on his word?" Another sly smile played across his lips. The first mate ran a hand through his long blonde hair.

"You'll be the death of us."

"Not today though." The captain gave his mate a slap on the back. "Now tell the lads to load the cannons but play nice." He whispered, "We have an uneasy peace, but I want to be ready if it goes south." With another smile he looked across at the other ship. "We'll take you up on that offer. Permission to come aboard?" He called out across to the other ship.

Seamus smiled, a fey light playing across his eyes as he did. "Permission granted."

Turning to a pair of deckhands, "Drop the ramp so they may cross."

Turning away from the pirates for a moment his hand rose to his chest, a lump there under his sea leathers. Touching it, the crew stiffened, not at once so as to make it less obvious, then in the same way nodded.

"Welcome to the...Contemptuous, gentlemen."

"Pleasure to be aboard." The pirate said adjusting his straw hat and stepping across. He looked to his crew with a winning smile. They would be alright. They would always be alright, he was lucky. And if luck wasn't on his side, he had a broadside of dwarven cannons ready to blow them straight to the otherside.

Seamus smiled again, stepping closer to the man, "Coxswain O'Hallan, Chief of the Contemptuous for Cap'n Contmial." he stated, hand reaching out to clasp in a grip. His eyes still had a touch of the glint from a moment before in them as he did so.

"Malagath," The pirate said taking the hand though he noticed that glint, and beside him Corydon flexed his hand a little. "Captain of the Freedom's Bow."

"Corydon, first mate." The Half Elf introduced himself. A fine elven blade was at his hip and his longbow on his back ready for unpleasantness. With the look in O'Hallan's eyes part of him knew to prepare for it.

Mal on the other hand just kept smiling.

Seamus simply continued smiling, releasing his grip from Malagath's holding it out for Croydon to shake. When they grasped, it could almost be forgiven if the first mate noticed that the hand he grasped was, for a moment cold and clammy, almost a touch slimy, before it returned to the normal feel of palm to palm.

Releasing the grasp, Seamus gestured toward the aft of the boat, "We can wait in the briefing room, I'm sure Cap'n will be up in a few minutes."

"I don't see why not." Mal said walking towards the aft, Corydon rubbed his hand feeling something slightly off. His eyes started looking around doing a count of the men around. Mal just kept smiling but he could feel Cory's wheels turning, that was never a good sign. But, if something was up, it was more important to get that man off this ship.

Seamus opened the door, the lanterns inside flaring to life as he did. He ushered the two men in, then took a seat next to the head of the table. An orderly entered, beckoned over, Seamus whispered in his ear and the man disappeared. Looking at the other two, "Take a seat, Cap'n will be here in a minute. That or the orderly will escort you to him."

Mal happily took a chair pouring a bit of brandy into a glass and taking a drink, still trying to numb the pain in his arm. Corydon remained standing his arms crossed and his eyes constantly scanning.

TAG: @darthbernael @greyjedi125

Cayden Cailean
Realm of the Gods

Watching all of this Cayden's eye twitched. He didn't like what he was seeing.

"I'd suggest getting our boys out of there before too long..."

TAG: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125

 

OOC: A combo with the wonderful Darth Bernael

Nissa Taneefoot
E’mthalas, Qedraerhiel

Nissa looked around as they landed. The destruction was ... intensive. Rubble, bodies everyplace. The sounds of things hurt and dying. Water, this far away, from the ocean, but Nissa could see the area was full of seaweed, algae and other sea life laying about. “Biggun, ken ye feel the big pointies?” the sprite asked quietly.

"Someone is here." she answered softly. There were buildings still standing. Someone had to have survived. She stepped carefully around the bits of broken crystal from the tall towers as she stepped about, the sprites looking about.

The male sprite darted back and forth, attempting to find anything living, keening cries as all that seemed to be left were the dead. “The hurties all gone, husks of big pointies all left.” he said sadly, the other sprites crowding around, comforting him.

Nissa was about to speak when a sound drew their attention. All the other sprites zipped around behind her, trying to hide, as Nissa stood fast as she spied flashes of light. And soon the flashes identified themselves as a single elf stepped into view. She did not see Nissa and the others at first, as she was busy. With outstretched arms, she lifted both bodies and rubble. The rubble went back to the structures from where they had come, mending back in place. And as the woman walked, Nissa could see many wagons, into which the bodies went into. Most powerful magic indeed.

The elf finished the grisly work in the immediate area then turned toward Nissa and her little crew. Nodding, “Fair folk, you being here means this is not just an attack upon the Sidhe. I am Arienn Thramihle, sorceress of the Council. Why have you come? What dangers have you faced?” she asked, voice fluid and melodic.

Nissa gave the woman a nod of her head and a bow.

"Lady Thramihle. I am Nissa, a servant of Mystra. I came because I was bearing a warning from the woods. They told of “the restless gods. That the Goddess rarely walks their paths, here or in any other wood.” Nissa shuddered. They whispered that I come here to warn could feel the change within the forest, as darkness seemed to slowly consume the area. "They showed me the way here, and with the help of the weaver, I made my way here. But as I did, I was hit with the wind that shrieked from the heavens. But no storms or clouds were in the sky." Nissa looked behind her at the sprites before looking back at the Elf sorceress once more. "The sprites told me that they saw the big waters roar in, a new volcano sprang into being, the grounds shook as if the gods had slammed their fist into the lands, and then the forest exploded in fires. I gathered them and we came here as quickly as we could."

Nissa looked around. "I have never heard of the waters reaching this far before. Do you know what meaning there is behind this?

Arienn gazed at the fairy, her initial thought had been correct, especially with the sprites that huddled behind her. She listened as the little one described what she’d witnessed, endured, and had been told. “You are blessed, indeed, Nissa, as a servant of Mystra.”

She glanced around at the chaos of the city, “When this first occurred the mystics tried to discern what we had done to earn the wrath of the gods. They were met by an almost blank wall of grey, as though the gods are unwilling to answer.”

“Several patrols were sent but with the raging chaos, none have responded yet, perhaps due to the damage, or they were washed away. And now you tell me a volcano has erupted. Yet more devastation to come.” she said, wearily.

Reaching up to her chest, she touched a pendant hanging there, for a moment, eyes unfocused. Shaking her head, as though to banish the exhaustion, she looked at Nissa once more. “Walk with me, and I will bring you to the Council so you may share your experience. Your little retinue may accompany you.”



As they began moving deeper into the city, the destruction was becoming less obvious, the elven sorcerers and mages already hard at work putting the shattered pieces back together, reclaiming those lost, and aiding those injured. “I fear the gods have grown weary of the world as it is, Nissa, that something even more terrible is to come. And that if we cannot prove that our Selenia must be saved it will be wiped clean.”

As the elf sorcerer told her of what the mystic had gotten, or rather not gotten in response, Nissa pursed her lips, wondering what it could all mean. War is one thing. But how does one go about saving not only their homes but their entire life as they knew it? The elf spoke up then.

“Walk with me, and I will bring you to the Council so you may share your experience. Your little retinue may accompany you.”

Nissa looked back at the others huddled behind her, giving them a small wink. Then she turned back to look at Arienn Thramihle. "I will walk with you, and speak to your council. If it can be of help, I will." As she turned to follow the elf, she noticed the medallion the woman wore. Nissa then looked around the city as they walked. It was amazing how fast they had already begun with their repairs. Would the forests be so lucky? So, were the gods truly tired of things, and this was only the beginning. If it was, Nissa couldn't see Mystra being involved. But the others, the gods of war... that was another thing. With a sigh, she continued to walk, following Arienn to whatever place they were moving towards.

They walked, in silence, through the rubble and rebuilding. With all that had already occurred and the emotions of grief, loss, and pain that washed through the air it was hard to formulate words, to think upon what had happened. The sprites stayed huddled by Nissa, not entirely comfortable in the city of elves, used to the open spaces and forest where they could hide when much larger beings came forth.

After a short walk, Arienn led them to an open square, centered by a mallorn, giant, spreading, golden leaves reflecting the muted light of the day. She led the procession up flowing stairs, into the boughs of the tree, flight after flight. The stairs finally came to an end and she led them into a central open area, under the canopy of the tree, just above the massive trunk. The homes of the elven nobility ringed the open space and in the center of that area was a circle of thrones, eleven now occupied.

“Lords, Ladies, I present to you Nissa of the Fair Folk, chosen of Mystra. She witnessed the destruction after receiving a message from her Goddess.” Arienn bowed to the others then glided around the circle, occupying the last chair of the Council. One hand raised, ushering Nissa into the circle of thrones, “Please, tell the Council what you know.”

Nissa had never been before an entire counsel of the high elven counsel before. Her wings flutter slightly, as she pulled them back, giving plenty of cover for the sprites behind her. She then stepped out to the center of the area that Arienn had gestured towards. She stood tall, remembering that she was in service of Mystra. She remembered that she needed to speak in high tongue, so she bowed her head slightly.

"Lords and ladies of the council. I am Nissa Taneefoot, and I come from the forests with warnings most dire." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I serve mother Mystra. I came because while I was in the lower forest, I was given a warning from the woods. They told me a tale of 'the restless gods'. That the Goddess rarely walks their paths, here or in any other wood. I could feel a change within the woods. The trees whispered that I come here to warn you, and ask for your boon, as darkness seemed to slowly be consuming the area. "They showed me the way here, and with the help of the weaver, and my companions, I made my way here. The woods whispered of war with the dark one below. That many a tree had been cleared and burned, far more than normal." Nissa shook her head.

"But as I did, I was hit with wind that shrieked from the heavens. But no storms or clouds were in the sky." Nissa sighed softly. "The sprites told me that they saw the big waters roar in, and I saw a new volcano sprang into being, a column of flame and ash rising to the heavens. Parts of it began to collapse, rushing down the slopes of Kharbhatharb. Death clouds of smoke and ash filling the skies. Fire rock flows. The forest suddenly shook as if the gods had slammed their fists into the lands, and then the forest exploded in fires. After that, I gathered them and we came here as quickly as we could."

Nissa gestured with her hands. "I know not of both events are connected. But the fact that I was warned of one, but not of the other events is rather disconcerting."

With that Nissa grew quiet once more, as she waited to hear the words of the council.


TAG: @darthbernael

 

OOC: An epic combo with @Kurisan, @Adalia-Durron and the one and only @darthbernael

IC: Sarathai, Nyruel, and Zinna
The Woodlands, border of Tu and Long

The red disc of magical energy that had kept Nyruel from floating in the air winked out of existence, he rolled down onto the ground spinning a few times before getting up and dusting himself off. With his staff he banged it once, two dark red mists forming either side of him, creatures summoned from the underworld to serve his own bidding.

They were large dark-skinned jackal warriors, bred by Anubis for his own ends. One held an oversized khopesh, the other a spear. In unison, they snarled charging toward the Canim and Falcons ready to do their master's bidding.




Their strength of undeath would prove to be a ferocious assault against the Canim, Nyurel, turned away from Sarathai so she could not see, smirked at the sight of these magnificent creatures and at the prospect of what he could do if one of the Canim died.

Nyruel then whipped round to view Sarathai, his face in mock fear, faking it as best he could, trying to convey a sense of the urgency of the situation.

"Wood Elf! Help me!"




Sarathai gazed at the horror that had been brought to her beloved woods; the cleared plain of blackened stumps. From the recent hot rains, humid curtains of mist rose, suffused with the heart-wrenching stench of burning and cut wood.

In the distance, something caught her keen elven eyes. A dark figure atop a red shimmering disc. That looks like sorcery. Her heart jolted at the ogre-like figures that loped behind the figure; the huge, muscular forms of more Canim!

She was about to turn and flee once more, when more details caught her attention. A golden-eyed shaman was amongst the beastmen. Like the one that stalked me, she remembered.

Sarathai held her ground, curious to see what would become of this unexpected confrontation. As she did so, one final detail she could not fail to notice: They were coming right at her.

The figure zoomed toward her and she felt her stomach knot with recognition. He was one of the cruel slavers, a Drow. He leapt and rolled theatrically from his magical transport, then conjured two huge gladiators of his own.

Sarathai drew back a step at the sight of these golems; she had not witnessed the like before, but they smelled of evil, forbidden magic. The jackal-headed goliaths proceeded to rip apart the chasing Canim in an awesome display of prowess, deepening Sarathai's disquiet.

Yet her insatiable curiosity continued to root her to the spot.

And then, the final inexplicable climax to this strange montage... The Drow turned and yelled at her, "Wood Elf! Help me!"

Sarathai scowled back at the dark stranger. Only several days earlier his kind had attempted to capture and enslave and torture her. She had no intention of aiding one of the hated soulless ones.

But... she dared not turn her back either. He was a sorcerer... and powerful by her reckoning of this opening display. What did he want with her?

She surveyed the stranger with a suspicious glare, witnessing his conjured creations destroying the pursuers.

"You seem to be doing just fine on your own, slaver..." she retorted.

Nyruel whipped round to gaze into Sarathai's face, he suppressed the urge to attack her, such utter stupidity, it displeased the drow, her kind the wood elves, so fickle, so attached to their precious nature. He managed to resist this anger, renewing his focus on the task at hand. He of course recognized her face from the images Falcons flashed into his mind, she was indeed the one he was looking for.

"You would not help your fellow Champion of the Gods?"

He did not know her name, and she would no doubt wonder how he knew she was a champion, he would be able to give an explanation later, but now was not the time, the seed would be planted in her mind, all that remained was to coax it to bloom.

A tremendous roar then resonated through the sky as Nyruel turned his gaze to the skies, his mind immediately made the connection, one of the champions was a dragon, could it be?

Falcons laughed, a harsh, discordant sound as the undead jackal warriors tore into the Canim. They approached him as he heard the roar in the air and he laughed further, Fishes was doing his job very well indeed. A sickly greenish-yellow flash flew from him, breaking into pieces, each hitting a newly dead Canim and two more hitting the foreheads of the undead warriors. He stood still, looking over at Sarathai and Nyruel. “Champions of Selenia, you say. Well, your toys are now mine.”

He stepped out of the way of what was occurring behind him. As he did, the newly undead Canim stood, eyes blazing the same yellow as his eyes. Roars followed as the already undead fought his magics before they growled and turned toward the one that raised them their eyes now a blazing yellow as well.

Looking at his puppets, “Kill them both, earn your rewards.” he simply said before the group charged the elf and drow.

Sarathai scowled, recognising the golden-eyed fiend as of the same unnatural origin as the being that had followed and tormented her in the woods. It seemed this Drow had picked up his own stalker, and now she was threatened by its minions, too!

She glanced at the dark elf. He had declared that he was a "fellow champion of the gods."

That did not make sense. He was certainly no servant of Isha. But Isha had said there were others, others who may know of the threat to the world. The memory of the Goddess's words came to the elf then, One is suspected, One is all but unknown, Eight there are, all that stand before the Fall.

She shook her head in disbelief. Whichever god this soulless one served, Sarathai wanted nothing to do with him. The great roar rolled across the heavens, making her heart quail. The fallen Canim rose again, reanimated by necromantic magic, and even the Drow's own golems turned to threaten them both.

Sarathai turned to flee. She was not sure that she could outrun the Canim, or the jackal-beings. But she did not need to.

She only needed to outrun the Drow...

Zinnia knew her quarry, knew her destination and was gliding on a thermal when she heard the roar. Diving down slowly to peer beneath the cloud cover she noted a red dragon, circling her destination and letting out an awful sound. Zinnia found such acts primitive and unnecessary. Flying over said beast she lowered herself to be in the light of the sun, making it difficult for those looking up to see her as she descended into the forest, landing lightly in a small clearing. Bringing her wings inward she listened and could hear the distant footfalls of the young elven woman coming her way. A slight smile touched her golden lips as she closed her large eyes and concentrated.

In a flurry of golden mist and sparkle, Zinnia used her best skill, transforming herself into a figure the elf would relate too, one she’d sympathize with. Breathing deeply as she lowered her now arms and opening her golden eyes, she lowered herself to a nearby tree, to rest against it. The last part of her plan, she allowed tears to fall.



The drow could not believe what he was seeing, it only confirmed his suspicions of the wood elf kind, their fickleness, their impulsiveness, and utter stupidity. Oh by the gods did he really have to work with this thing?

His attention then turned to the recently undead Canim, he frowned, he had particularly wanted to raise one of them to be under his undead servitude, no matter they would just simply have to die twice. He waved his free hand, a wall of red ether spikes formed in front of him, he then flicked his finger in the direction of the Canim, the spikes flying forward, prepared and able to rip through the undead beasts.

Fishes had seen Zinnia dive and disappear beneath the canopy. He circled the field then, to add to the chaos currently ongoing and how it would bring the champions together, he dove toward where the dragon had gone down. He saw a small, green figure huddled under a tree, crying. ‘So that’s where she went..’ he thought before a smile creased the face of the red dragon form he wore. Circling again, he roared, flame jetting forth from his mouth, setting fire to the trees on either side of the path, around and including the upper canopy of the one she was huddled under.

Falcons received a message from Fishes, a thought, that told him of what the other naagloshii’s plan was, which caused him to sigh, ‘Showoff’ he thought before he sent the undead warriors after both the drow and elf. The red shards, he decided, were a nice touch from the drow as they ripped through the massive warriors. Several fell as they took too much damage to continue but others continued forward, weapons batting at the shards, several stuck into areas that still allowed movement. The already undead but now controlled jackal-headed warriors howled and swung their weapons, batting the shards aside with ease before leaping into a faster, loping run after the two ‘champions’.

Sarathai darted along pathways between the damaged trees, her heart pounding once again with the terror of pursuit.

Above her head, trees caught fire from some unseen force. Sarathai cried out, hearing the screams of the elders.

She could not tarry long, sensing the Drow and the Canim on her heels. But she spent a moment to invoke the Sapphire Geyser, crouching to her hands and knees and singing to the currents of life magic beneath the loam. There was much water here already, and she funnelled it upwards.

The spouts opened in the ground and gushed up into powerful fountains, dousing the trees and putting out the flames.

Sarathai skipped between the geysers, again on her way.

Soon she came to a glade she did not recognise, and there was one of the treewives, weeping. Sarathai halted before the forest spirit, staring curiously. She thought she knew all the dryads of Tu - but this one...?

"Treesister," she called. "This place is unsafe, enemies approach. Mighty Adanhu still stands strong and he can take you in. There is a fairy there in need of healing, also."

The Treesinger looked over her shoulder. Would she need to stand and fight here?

Zinnia kept the façade up, "The trees, they cry, they suffer." She leaned her small body back against the tree, she need to draw more into her snare.

The drow smirked as red shards ripped through the great beasts, confirming what he already knew these beasts were no match for his splendor. His gaze turned to the wood elf, who seemed to be conversing with a dryad? How peculiar, still he had no time to investigate their newfound guest, he needed the elfling on his side.

His attention snapped back to the Canim one of them came crashing down onto him, Nyruel's hand spread out reflexively a red ether shield blocking the attack.

"The Canim are the ones that are destroying the forest..." The Canim slammed down again, Nyruel grunted, the weight draining down on him, the sweat flowing down from his brow.

"Would you not help another living being that requires your aid?" Such weakness, part of him died as he said it, but he knew he would have to swallow his pride, mask it, for the time being, this wood elf was a fickle one.

The Canim kept up their assault on Nyruel, even as one of the survivors, as well as the two undead jackal warriors slipped past, headed for Sarathai and the ‘dryad’. The Canim of those three, pulled the shards that had embedded in him out and threw them with great force, aimed at the elf and the tree the dryad was huddled against.

Falcons hung back, letting occasional bolts of lightning lance down from the clouds, exploding around the trio, laughing. “Champions, really? How are you to save the world if you cannot escape my toys?”

Fishes soared above, having overheard the statement that Sarathai had made to Zinnia. His head swung back and forth, seeking. A smile formed on his draconic lips as he saw the giant of the forest that had to be the ancient tree the wood elf had mentioned. Reaching out, he directed a pair of Canim squads in that direction before flying a circular pattern around the tree, outside the range of it’s magics, raining fire down around it.

Sarathai whirled as she sensed the approach of others. She spotted the Drow, and the Canim, and her eyes narrowed.

"Asrai o nildur. Druchii* ehn kuru..." she spoke to the dryad in the ancient tongue. Hide your form, Sister. Outsiders approach.

The soulless one - the one that claimed to be a Champion - called to her again, beseeching her aid. This confused Sarathai. This is not normal behaviour for the slavers...

But she could not consider this further as several of his pursuers rounded him and menaced her instead. One of the jackal-headed golems extracted red glowing darts that had pierced its own body and hurled them at her and the tree behind her.

These were constructs of magic, and Sarathai drew upon the currents of the same running beneath her feet. She conjured flowers of emerald energy to intercept and dispel their charge in small pops of light.

Around and above the young mage, a ring of fire ignited in the leafy treetops again. Sarathai gasped. It was all too much to deal with at once. She could not abandon the treewife or the glade to this destruction. She wanted to summon the sapphire geyser once more, but she had a more immediate peril to face.

The jackal beings were almost upon her.

She drew her dagger and prepared to fight for her life.

Nyruel grimaced his precious Jackal Warriors under the will of another. He was the patron of the undead, he would! No he resisted urge, he would look more authentic if he simply killed them rather than battle for their souls.

He banged his staff the magical red wall staying up in place, with his free hand he conjured a large red magical spear, far too large to be wielded by any normal-sized mortal.


His fingers snapped in the direction of the jackal warriors, flying to skewer their heads from their bodies. He whipped back round his attention on the Canim around him, he flicked his fingers again and the wall became a sphere, engulfing him within it, he then grunted slamming his staff once more as the sphere expanded in all directions now decorated with large, sharp spikes. Once it dissipated he dropped to one knee, panting heavily his stunt greatly draining his magical energies.

In her guise, Zinnia was acutely aware of the events unfolding around her, if she wanted to gain their trust, now was the time to gain it. Closing her golden eyes and drawing on her magical abilities, she willed the tree to whip its massive branch around, successfully colliding it with the three jackals like creatures. When she opened her eyes, she saw them flying in the direction of the red whipping spear. A smile touched her lips as it collided with the neck of one beast, the chest of the second and the spine of the third. They fell to the ground twitching and screaming for a moment or two, but nothing more. They were dead. She hoped this would earn their trust.

Falcons watched as the 'dryad' managed to down the jackal warriors and Nyruel was putting paid to the Canim he'd set on him. The situation seemed to be coming under control but it never hurt to aid things. He let his presence and the psychic stench that was usually emitted by his kind fade as he faded into the trees. A couple moments later there was a sickly green glow that came from both sides of the path a short way down it from where they had come running. The ground shook, trees sways and garbled roaring filled the air.

Then they appeared. A pair of clay and, what had to be, living wood twelve-foot tall golems. Eerie green light, similar to that that had flared a moment before came from cracks in the clay as well as the eyes. On their foreheads there were sigils in an Outsider tongue that if read would show that the commands fed to the golems were the destruction of the Selenian Champions. Both turned and saw the trio, the roars coming once more as they lurched forward.

Sarathai was becoming increasingly desperate and confused. The tree behind her came under the sway of magic, and swung out its great branches, viciously hurling away the jackal beings. This made them fly into the crimson missiles of the Drow. The creatures of death, died.

For a moment, it was just Sarathai and the soulless one. He seemed intent on talking to her rather than trying to kill her. That was... strange, but she could not deal with it right now.

No longer in danger from the Canim, she took her chance, falling to her knees and plunging her hands to the soft loam again. She called upon the Sapphire Geyser and again conjured great fountains of water to rise up and douse the flames that were eating away at the crowns of the trees surrounding the glade.

She rose, trembling from the power of the magical currents that had thundered through her, and listened. A distant sigh whispered on the breeze through the woods. Adanhu is in pain! she realised.

She bit her lip and looked again at the Drow. Whatever he had to say would have to wait. But as she agonised over whether she should leave him for the dryad to deal with, another sound caught her attention. The ground shook with mighty footsteps.

She looked up and her heart quailed. Great golems of mud and driftwood, taller than trees, stomped toward them. They were constructed and powered with magic - the sickly green glow emanating from the writhing sigils on their foreheads telling of their purpose; Destruction of the Champions.

Sarathai's spells were varied and of spectacular effect, but did not tend toward the directly destructive. However, she did have a weapon she used often to thwart and enrage enemy sorcerers; that power of the dispel - to undo hostile magic.

She weaved her hands in circles and whispered, her enchanted voice filling the air as she sought to unravel the magical bonds that held together the clay giants now stomping toward her...

With the Canim dead and Falcons fading away Nyruel turned his attention to Sarathai, he thought how easy it would be to eliminate her at this moment, and how desperately he wanted to, but he knew he could not, to do so would be to incur the wrath of the gods. He contemplated for a moment which god would be this elf's champion. Most likely one of nature or life, something in that vein.

"Focus on the forest wood elf, I'll take of these would-be destructors"

A knock on his staff and the Canim he had just slain rose, their eyes turning a glazed red, even if their bodies were not whole they would still be able to serve their new master. Any broken limbs seemed to repair themselves, healing of undeath.



The drow pointed his fingers toward the twin pair of golems a single word emitting from his mouth.

"Kill"

He then whipped round to the elf, his head tilting in interest.

"Life and Death are two parts of the same coin are they not wood elf?

He paused contemplating for a brief moment, acting cooled and relaxed as the undead Canim charged into Golems, Nyruel seemingly unconcerned about the situation.

"I assume you suffered the same vision as I, a warning of the coming calamity"

Zinnia in her guise turned to see the Golems, massive creatures with no mind and orders to destroy. If she were in her regular form, this would be child's play, in fact her own offspring would make short work of them. Her children, she hoped they were being taken care of. The sooner this was done the better, then she'd be back with them. She closed her golden eyes again and imagined the makings of the Golems, wood, that would work to fit her disguise. She lifted her hand and held it out to the monsters as they strode their way before making a fist. Suddenly, from within, the behemoths began to explode as she used her magic to crush the wood within them. Unable to show surprise, or react, they continued to lumber forward on the one minded sole mission. Each step was getting harder as the wood inside them turned to splinters. She collapsed against the tree, a ruse, this was no hard work for Zinnia but

The golems, between the attack by Nyreul and the dryad form of Zinnia, collapsed into shards, the magics animating them hissed and snapped before disappearing into the forest itself. Trees swayed, creaking, whispers sounded from around the trio. The fluttering of tiny wings sounded from the trail toward Adanhu. And then a fairy came zipping up the trail.

Leeta came to a halt before Sarathai, “I just got away, don’t approach the Old Man of the Forest, my healer. He is surrounded, hounded by the Canim and...something evil. He will survive but even now they begin to suspect you will not approach.”

Her ears twitched and she sniffed the air. Suddenly she spun, turning toward the ‘dryad’ huddled under the tree. Her eyes went wide and then she flitted through the air, hiding behind Sarathai’s shoulder. “That...that’s no treewife, Lady Elf..” she whined. Her eyes darted to Nyruel, then back to Sarathai. “Now I understand the Old Man..he said you and a dark one needed to make for the coast. Big boats come for you.”

She turned her focus back to Zinnia, “But Lady, hurry, get away from that, it means you no good.”

They knew.

It mattered little now. Drawing a deep breath she allowed the magic to swirl around her golden form and in a haze of gold transformed back into her magnificent form. Pulling her head up to its full height she allowed her lips to peel back to bare her sparkling teeth. "You have been fooled, now you will die." Drawing a deep breath, she allowed the fire and heat to form in her chest before letting it loose on the forest around her.



The golems collapsed through the combined efforts of Nyruel and Sarathai... and something else.

She turned and regarded the Drow. Her nose wrinkled and she scowled.

"You stink of death magic. Why are you so desperate to talk to me? And who is your friend that pretends to be a dryad?"

Sarathai knew every forest spirit in Tu as well as her own reflection, and with equal familiarity the way that every tree moved. The strange magic unleashed on the golem had confirmed her suspicions.

Leeta appeared and gave her the warning about Adanhu, then quailed at the smell of the thing at the tree behind them. Even a fairy could sense it. Sarathai cocked her head to one side in a "You see?" expression at the Drow.

Then the being behind them revealed itself in all its terrible glory.

Sarathai's jaw dropped open. She could not believe it. A dragon! One of the most revered creatures of the world, even more ancient than the Treekin! They still exist!

She did not have time to process the great honour that had just been bestowed upon her, for the dragon was wrathful. It blasted fire from its inner inferno at them.

Sarathai dropped to her knees and called on the sapphire geyser once more. This time she conjured an enchanted shield-dome of water to protect her from the awesome power of the dragon, praying that its fury would settle...

The drow narrowed his eyes in confusion. Did she even listen? Was this wood elf deaf?

"I do not know this dryad anymore than you do" he replied, he was baffled as to how to respond any further, the wood elf was being nonsensical he was not sure how to respond, such a silly and fickle creature would not understand a well structured logical reason for them joining as allies. If this one was indeed as foolish as she seemed Nyruel saw no reason to act covertly and infiltrate as a champion, she would lead herself to her own demise.

He gazed up at the dragon immediately he recognized it to be one of the champions as he had been gifted visions on what each of them looked like.

He tilted his head in further confusion, fooled? Fooled by what? Ah yes, by the fact she had disguised herself as a dryad. Nyruel shook his head the situation had gotten out of hand and if the wood elf did not trust him at this point he saw no reason to press onward.

"If you are so foolish as to not trust me little wood elf then so be it, you will be the architect of your own destruction., but when Selenia falls know it will be your fault for not placing your faith in me, this forest is doomed but Selenia can still be saved"

In banged his staff creating his signature red disc, he hovered turning in the opposite direction to head for the coast.

TAG: @Kurisan @Adalia-Durron @darthbernael

*Druchii can also refer to those-without-light, unnatural, and is used as a reference to the Drow.

---

IC: Andrissa

Andrissa lifted her goblet to her lips, her dark eyes sparkled as she smiled before taking an elegant sip. She had nothing to say, yet.

---

IC: Anubis

Anubis chuckled to himself as he saw the events unfold, oh he had not had this much fun in centuries. His expression quickly turned to that of a frown as he glanced over to Huitzilopochtli.

"Your minions dare resurrect my Jackal Warriors from the dead without permission and without worship?"

He snarled as he turned over to Isha, his mood greatly soured.

"Your champion is indeed quite a fickle one, imagine if Nyruel indeed was trying to help her, she would be doomed. Perhaps it does not matter what she does, or maybe, just maybe she can change Nyruel's fate"

TAG: @Kurisan @darthbernael @Everyone else

 

(OOC: A combo Post between @darthbernael @greyjedi125 and myself)

Malagath, Xenos, Captain Rain, and Seamus O’Hallan
HRH Contemptuous

Malagath had kept quiet as the chief spoke about strength in numbers. He'd just met this crew, met this man, he wasn't about to jump directly into a partnership with them. Especially not when his first mate was being a little reserved, well more reserved than usual.

"Oh, and I've been sailing since I was a small boy." Mal said as they started to move below decks. "Don't worry about our crew, they'll wait for us..." It was not a complete truth there was a time limit, Mal just didn't know it. As they walked Corydon moved close to Mal.

"Don't like this Mal, and I don't like moving deeper into his ship."

"If you don't like it, then what must our new friend be facing?"

With another fearless smile Mal followed below decks, rubbing one of the medallions on his person...

Xenos remained quiet for the most part as he observed the proceedings, mostly because he was waging a balancing act within himself. Giving free reign to his vengeful emotions would accomplish little here, so he had to manage them. His reason dictated that he needed information. That was the only way he would likely understand why?

In his mind, the Captain’s eerie blue glow of his eyes could only work to his advantage, if the prisoner was not used to such things, then again, even if he was.

The young warrior leveled a steely gaze as their captive was roused with ice cold water.

Naturally, the trick worked like a charm.

Captan Rian asked if he’d liked the honor of the first question. Xenos nodded slowly, even as he noticed the expression of the man he had saved from drowning in order to extract information from him.

Xenos stepped forward in plain view before the prisoner. His scowling glare spoke of the anger he held inside himself, even as his tone chilled bones.

“You and your men slew my sellsword brothers. You ambushed us, as only cowards desperate for coins would, and in much greater numbers." A brief pause to shake his head at the memory. "So many of you with your fancy swords and armor.”

Slowly Xenos began to pace, his gaze fixed on the prisoner, his lips curled in a snarl of distaste.

“Now, I got to thinking. That’s a lot of coin being spent, which means you have a sponsor and a spy, for none knew the route we were taking.” He accused with a controlled measure of vehemence.

Xenos stopped his pacing, then hunched down before the man.

“There’s only one way you walk out of here alive, and that is to answer our questions truthfully.”

There was a pause, so the man could take a moment to get his lies in order. Xenos reached back and produced one of his blades with the spiked hand guards.

“Answer me this question then: Who is paying you?”

The sharp blade came forward, the tip slowly touching the floorboard, at which point Xenos began to make tiny cuts on the surface, showing exactly how sharp his blade was.

It was then that he noticed Malagath, to whom he offered a solid nod of his head, yet his expression did not soften.

He then looked at the man straight in the eyes.

“Well, tell me. I did save your life, so don’t be so ungrateful.”

The prisoner’s eyes were wide, as though he was barely hearing what Xenos was saying. His eyes kept darting past Xenos, toward Rian. He licked his lips for a moment, eyes taking in the blade cutting at the decking. They widened again as the tiny cuts seemed to disappear shortly after they were made.

Looking back up, “Uhhh, thank...thank you, I think. Wh...who is that?” He asked with a shaking hand rising, finger outstretched toward Rian.

The Captain of the Contemptuous chuckled, leaning back against a rib of his ship, in the shadows again, only minimal pinpricks of blue where his eyes looked upon the man behind the bars.

"Well, my friend." Mal said walking up and wrapping an arm around the mercenary's shoulders, pulling Xenos close. "He's the captain of the ship you currently find yourself residing in. Though I'm sure that if you tell my other friend here." He said giving Xenos a hardy squeeze. "What he wants to know, I'm sure we can get you out of there, or at least some better accommodations."

The prisoner shrunk back against the hull of the ship, as far as he could get from Rian. And then shrieked again when the Coxswain entered the brig. For a moment, in the shadow, the large man seemed to hulk even further, to swell into a large creature. When he stopped next to the Captain, he seemed his normal shape and size, although his eyes had a fell light to them, similar to the Captain’s.

“They….they’re not...human.” he stammered.

He tried to pull himself together, swiveled his gaze from Rian and Seamus, to Xenos and Malagath. “We were told he and his men would be there. A tall being, dark skinned, with a chest full of gold told us that if we brought him their heads we’d get part. But if we brought his…” he held up a shaking hand toward Xenos “we’d get the whole chest.”

“But he told us to hurry, that something was coming to retrieve him. And now,” his eyes darted back, in terror, to the now smiling duo of Rian and Seamus, “I know what he meant.”

First, the King sent a summons for him, and now this craven killer claimed that someone else was after him? Xenos did not believe in coincidences. There was something hidden in all this. If Captain Rian wanted him dead or in chains, he had no doubt they could well manage that, so clearly that was not the case. On the other hand, his fellow sellswords had been slaughtered for no discernible reason...at least none that he knew, yet. This fool had answers and he would either spill the secrets, or his guts.

"This...dark being...the one that offered you the chest of gold." Xenos intoned darkly, as he took a step closer. The blade he held spun once in a smooth flourish, whistling as it cut the air.

"What is his name?"

The blade flourished once again in his hand, even as he drew closer still.

The prisoner licked his lips, eyes darting to the blade then to the four glittering, icy blue eyes glowing in the shadows, and then back to the blade and Xenos. He hesitated for a moment, the swaying of the blade almost hypnotic.

“Guldor Zauviir, he said his name was Guldor, drow underpriest of the Spider Goddess, from Askar.” he slowly got out as he watched the blade move. He sobbed again as he saw Rian and Seamus share a look and then turn back to him.

Seamus stumped forward, “Witch of a Goddess, always stealing our bounty. Positive he said that, little man?”

"I hope you're not referring to me..." Xenos, possibly for the first time in a long time, took a stab at satire, before returning his baleful gaze at the prisoner, blade flourishing again.

"Answer the question." He commanded.

In the back of his mind, he resolved to explain things to Malagath, but this had to be done first. Why would an underpriest of the Spider Goddess wish him and his men dead? It was no secret that the drow detested topsiders, those who dwelled above, but they hardly ever got involved in their affairs, unless there was something in it for them.

Mal looked back to his first mate as the interrogation continued, as the Captain and his chief changed and began to make Mal's hair stand up on the back of his neck. The pit in his stomach was growing by the minute quickly overcoming the floaty feeling of the rum still in his system.

"I think friend." He said pulling Xenos close once again. "I think he's said all he needs to and I feel a breeze coming...we should go to catch it..." He wanted to get out, to escape. He'd spent far too long on this ship that wasn't his. It was time to get moving and he wasn't leaving without his new crewmate.

Rian chuckled, the medallion on his chest glowed for a moment, “I believe our friend wishes to know why he was pursued and his men slaughtered first. Do not worry, little pirate, you’ve earned service here but your bill has not yet come due.” He paused, touching the medallion, then looked back to the pirate and his charge, “Besides, yes the winds are blowing, both our vessels are caught in them, Someone wants us in a specific place.”

The prisoner, forgotten for a moment howled as the medallion glowed. Seamus growled back and the man flinched then slumped. “Yes, it was a drow, he said we was to stop him, preferably by killing him,” he pointed to Xenos then to Rian, “before he met him. The…”he tried to find a word that didn’t make him cringe, “Captain, we was told, had to take the mercenary somewhere important.”

Indeed, there was a lot to consider here, maybe more than he had anticipated. Captain Rian was far more than just a Captain, and from his words, he seemed to have plans for the prisoner once they were finished interrogating him: which meant Xenos would have to spare his misbegotten life. Truth be told, he owed the Captain much.

Both Captains in fact.

Which also meant complications for himself - which was something he would have to resolve at some point.

Strangely enough, the prisoner seemed to know about the King’s letter way before Xenos ever learned about it himself, which meant the drow was very well informed. Could there be a drow spy in the palace?

Dark eyebrows were suddelny raised at the possibility.

If this was true…

A deft movement from the young sellsword and the blade was back in its sheath.

“Guldor Zauviir…” Xenos repeated, using the prisoner’s inflection and pronunciation of the name, as if trying to divine purpose just by speaking it.

“I’m not done with you yet….!” He declared with undisguised vehemence at the bound prisoner, before turning to the others and speaking in a calmer tone.

“I think I need some fresh air.” He announced, before giving a respectful nod to both Malagath and Rian, then making his way up the stairs. There was much he needed to consider and he needed some breathing room to do so.

"Well, I think I could use some sea air myself." Malagath said following behind Xenos holding his broken arm close to his chest. Corydon moved with his captain. The pair of pirates flanked the mercenary, Corydon kept his head on a swivel constantly watching. Malagath kept himself smiling and swaying around like the drunk that he was.

TAG: @darthbernael @greyjedi125

 

IC: Isha
The Realm of the Gods

Isha turned and glared at Anubis. "Such arrogance... Your sorcerer truly thought he could simply declare himself a champion... and with nothing else, no other explanation at all, Sarathai would just fall into rapture at his feet? I told you she is no fool."

She frowned at Andrissa. "And you... such skulking and hiding does not befit so wondrous and magnificent a creature as Zinnia."

Isha paused, wondering about the many evils done to the beautiful forest. It had been painful to witness, but had the distractions actually helped her champion? Fleeing and fighting the Canim and putting out the fires had kept Sarathai suitably focused instead of listening to the insidious treachery of the others.

She let go off the table, suddenly realising she had been gripping it so hard her knuckles had turned white. Despite her strong words, she was secretly relieved neither Nyruel nor Zinnia had attempted to take Sarathai by force - for surely they would have succeeded.

Though her wager was unspoken, all around the table would have known that if Sarathai had failed to escape these two, Isha would have had to forfeit her turn indefinitely until the right dice roll had come up again.

Ah yes, the wager...

Isha picked up her crystal glass and gently touched several droplets of the clear water to her forest and Adanhu, dousing the flames that devoured them.

Then she turned to Huitzilopochtli and smiled charmingly, but with triumph in her eyes.

"You owe me a boat..."

@darthbernael @Adalia-Durron @Shadowsun

 

IC: Anubis
The Realm of the Gods

Anubis barked in annoyance. His eyes locking onto Isha's.

"What? Nyruel was quite logical, the mere fact that he knew what a champion was and that she was one too, any mortal with half a brain would be able to deduce he had some connection to the gods, not to mention he brought up the vision she had and talked of the coming calamity, but she paid no heed to this, completely ignoring him. You say she was no fool but she has proven to be nothing but a fool, the fickle nature of the wood elves is infuriating I can certainly understand Nyruel's frustration,"

Anubis leaned back in his chair stewing in annoyance, first Huitzilopochtli was stepping outside his bounds, and now this nonsense with the wood elf. He closed and opened his hand into a fist.

"Isha, subtlety is clearly lost on you and this wood elf, if you want to win Sarathai's going to have convince Nyruel to join your side, you should know all too well that I want is to win, but what that is I do not care. Sarathai can change what winning looks like for myself and Nyruel, but she cannot do that if they split off from one another"

He tilted his head, what he said was not a trick or scheme, Isha would know this. Anubis was above such things, deception was not his style, he wanted the game to be a challenge and Nyruel was indeed gaining a lot of steam, if Sarathai was not there to put him in check he could run away with a win, something, perhaps ironically, Anubis did not want to happen, while he did indeed want to end up winning, he would prefer a hard-fought game where he lost then a runaway victory.

TAG: @Kurisan @darthbernael @ anyone else that wants to deal with a very annoyed Anubis...

 

Cayden Cailean
Realm of the Gods

Cayden couldn't help the smile on his face watching the interplay between life and death. There was a slight chuckle as he looked to Ma'at a slight waggle to his brow as he took a long sip from his cup.

"It seems my friend," He said to the god of death, "That your little one needs to learn the finer points of persuasion. Mal can be an excellent teacher when properly motivated..." Finishing the drink he snapped his fingers and the cup filled again, this time with rum. "We seem to be heading that way and I think our little mercenary of Justice would like some questions answered..." Another deep smile. "Now I'm not saying that should let himself be captured...but with say three strong wills aligned against him, one very motivated to get answers, and a tricksy brigand with a silver tongue, I'd say the odds could shift a bit." He took another sip. "Now all we need to do is get that parasite off of my boy's ship..." He shivered again looking down at the Freedom's Bow and the floating coffin next to it...

TAG: @Shadowsun @Kurisan @greyjedi125

 

IC: Anubis

The jackal god gave another bark, he did not care for Cayden but in this case, he knew he was right, Nyurel had messed up, but that did not make the little wood elf any less of an annoyance. His attention then turned to the ship, Anubis contemplated to himself, perhaps the best play was for Nyurel to simply ignore the other champions for now and let his little Canim army spread rampant, taking over the Southern Drow nation would be a huge boon, but that would just be a minor victory and while the increased army would certainly help, preventing the champions from defeating the destructor was a more important goal. Still, he did not know exactly how Nyurel was supposed to do that as powerful as the Drow Warlock was he could not defeat the combined might of the other champions. What was Huitzilopochtli aiming for Nyruel to do exactly infiltrating as their fake ally.

The god of death looked to Cayden, less annoyed than before but still clearly agitated.

"Perhaps you are right drunken god, Nyruel could certainly learn a thing or two about the art of persuasion that one is rather logic-driven"

His hand flexed, reaching into his pocket to play with one of the jackal-headed playing pieces, a not so subtle hint that he wanted to place it on the board. His attention then shifted, his tone softening as he looked forward to the future.

"I do look forward to Xenos meeting up with Nyruel dear Ma'at I think there is a lot they can learn from one another."

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @greyjedi125 @Kurisan @darthbernael @ anyone else

 

OOC: A fun combo between me and @darthbernael ! Thank you for your patience!

IC: Mieli Hartsson
Border of Qedraerhiel and Paia

Mieli grimaced at the destruction that the drow had wrought on these people. These monsters needed to be punished, unlucky for them was the fact that he was having a really, really bad day and was itching for a fight to blow off some steam.

Seeing the cute little fairies tormenting a drow broke his heart a bit. The fairy folks were usually cheery and friendly, seeing them turned into savages was really tragic. "I was sent to stop any drow I see..." he tried to keep his voice calm "I am sorry I was too late..." he looked at the fairy, then averted his gaze "My people are having another problem." Mieli gestured back with his thumb at the volcano. "So, it is only me."

The small fairy warrior almost seemed to hang in the air for a moment before a warbling cry left it’s throat. The fairies around the drow began speeding around her until it appeared she had a corona of light racing around.

The fairy flew close, “You are here now, dwarf, that is what matters. We stopped this one but there was a warband, twenty of them and we could not stop them all.”

He sniffed the air and his eyes widened as he caught the scent of burning woods and rock, the lava approaching. “This one said there are several warbands and they plan on laying siege to E’Mathalas when they have gathered enough troops.”

Mieli felt sorry for the fairy, he could commiserate, but that should be done later. "You should get to safety." he suggested "Is there any other village where you could go, that is out of the lava's way?" he tilted his head "I will deal with the drows."

The fairy looked at his compatriots, still swirling around the drow. “Are there any villages still left?” he asked. The circle of fairies began closing around the drow and it began to shriek as little blades began slicing it all over its body.

He glanced back at Mieli, “Destroy the drow, dwarf, they threaten us all.” He said, grief, anger, and pain all warring in his expression.

"I am sorry, but from what I have seen the drows had sought a lot of destruction, but I haven't been out for long, so there are maybe some that have survived." he tried to be cautious about it, he did not want to break their little hearts further "I will avenge your people, you get somewhere safe!"

The little warrior whistled, the halo of other fairies ceased moving, flying higher into the air. “They’ll go searching for survivors and other villages but I have nothing left, my family here was the last of my relations.” He nodded to the largest of the fairies that had been harassing the drow and it led the others away into the woods. “But I know the trails and woods better even than a Ranger so I’ll stick with you.”

"I thank you noble warrior." Mieli smiled "I accept your offer to help." he looked around then back at the fairy "How should I call you? My name is Mieli Hartsson."

The little fairy almost seemed to puff up at the compliment. The glow around him shone brighter as he lifted up to Mieli’s eye height. “I am Aodh Jesterrose, pleasure to meet you Mieli.”

He turned, as the drow began to stir, groaning, "And what do we do with that?" he asked.

"A pleasure, though I wish it was under better circumstances." he said rather gravely "We should interrogate him first, see if he would tell where his brethren are."

The drow had begun to crawl away as they’d spoken but the little fairy noticed as Mieli spoke. He swooped over, “Halt knave, you have much to answer for…” he threatened, his tiny sword in hand, tip resting against the drow’s nose. The dark elf growled reaching up to swat away the tiny warrior as Mieli approached.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you boyo..." Mieli growled as he stepped on the drow's back "Now, talk! How many are you? And where I can find your kin to pay them a visit?"

The drow growled, then whined in pain as the broad foot of the dwarf planted firmly on their back. It tried to squirm but the weight behind the leg kept it from getting too far. Finally, it’s strength having mostly been spent trying to defend against the fairies, it sighed, “Raiding band...two companies, about 200, plus wagons.” it muttered.

And then smiled, “Two companies, of a division of the raiding force of our land that’s come down here. The end’s coming stinking dwarf, and we’re going to make sure we’re in the good graces of those who rise. Can you kill 10 thousand of us?” It began to laugh, the wounds making it a wracking coughing laugh, but it seemed to believe that there was nothing that could stop it’s people.

Mieli tried not to roll his eyes "Are you sure you had 200 drows?" he tilted his head "Weren't they 20?" he chuckled. Though he shelved the information in his mind, after all the drow might be telling the truth.

The drow laughed again, a trail of blood dribbling from the corner of it’s mouth as it did. “20, 200, who cares, you’re one dwarf, cannot kill us all, and we’re the least of what’s to come.” It’s eyes darted and it’s ears twisted for a moment before it glanced back at the unusual duo of fairy and dwarf. “Besides, you may want to run, it sounds like my friends are returning.”

Mieli frowned for a moment then turned towards the fairy “Get everyone to safety. I will buy you time to evacuate.” then focused back on the drow “20 or 200 you are still going to die by my blade.” he smirked darkly.

TAG: @darthbernael

Branka

Branka seemed to be sidelined, that was fine with him, as long as he could find a proper angle against his opponents. So far he was focused on keeping Mieli alive and in the game. Right now he was not in position to strike. He needed to defeat the drows and make sure they won’t be able to attack his people for now.

Also a potential alliance with the fairies might be beneficial. Though the little guys and gals were not a power to be reckoned with, it was better to have them on his side.

“I ask again, what do I need to wager for my guy’s victory over the drows?” he asked in an irritated voice.

TAG:
@darthbernael @Kurisan @Adalia-Durron @greyjedi125 @galactic-vagabond422 @Sinrebirth @Corellian_Outrider @Shadowsun