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RE: The Hallows Inn

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1/30/2015 22:49:13   
Zephyrial
Member

Kenet faced off against the Nazha, blood pumping like an active volcano. "The Wanderer." the Nazha exclaimed with a death-rattle voice. It knew him? But ho- He did not get the opportunity to speculate, for the creature lunged with its saw-toothed blade with renewed aggression. For a few moments they sparred, the Nazha seeming to move twice as swiftly as before. Then, the monster's attention seemed to falter... and Kenet heard a new voice issue forth from behind him.

"Anchor the Wanderer, anchor him now!"

The injured Nazha leapt back, placing some feet between itself and Kenet. Preparing to pursue, Kenet drew back his fist... only to find it immobilised. With a violent jerk, his arms were wrenched outwards and there imprisoned, giving him the stance of a man preparing to be torn apart by wild horses. Horrified, he looked to his right, and then to his left, beholding the hellish portals from which the chains that bound him issued. With hateful grins, the Nazha he had fought - and the one which had come to his aid - circled him hungrily, one arm outstretched and crackling with dark energies. Kenet railed against the chains with all his terrible might, but the chains, extending as they did into an unknown realm, never slackened their tension in response. In vain he tried to draw his arms together, to strike the chains and break them, but the could not. Long, deadly blades appeared in the off-hands of the Nazha, and they advanced on him, seeking to impale him like a helpless beast.

I can't defeat them... and nobody will come to my aid...

Despair filled him. As he awaited death he looked about him, observing the progress of his allies' battles. He looked on with amazement as Marcelline pierced the accursed skull of one of the beasts, reducing him to a handful of ash that dissipated on the breeze. They are mortal, then... He witnessed Lock fleeing from the scene, and becoming trapped in his haste to escape. That dishonourable rogue... I should never have trusted him. And he looked on with alarm as the Nazha's commander - Toren seemingly out of the picture - pierced the defences of the inn and carried off the girl, Lily, screaming in terror. So we could not even complete our mission... He hung his head.


Then, from nowhere, he heard a furious roar from his flank, and the faint whirring of metal through air. A throwing knife passed just inches from his head, and he suddenly felt the pressure on his right arm disappear. Spinning around, he saw that one of his allies - the killer with the sunken face - had come to his rescue, engaging the wounded Nazha and drawing his ire. Kenet turned his attention to the second Nazha, which, seemingly taken by surprise by its brother's actions, gazed back into his eyes with sudden realisation. Roaring, Kenet brought his right arm over his head and onto the chains that bound his left, crushing them flat with a single blow as if they were made of tin. As he prepared to wrench them off completely and rush at the Nazha, however, the portal abruptly closed, and the creature robbed him of his pleasure with a hasty yet acrobatic retreat. Leaping over the tall wall in a single bound, it pursued its fleeing master, but not before uttering a final challenge to its opponent.

"This isn't the last time we'll see each other, Wanderer!"

"But the next time shall be, Nazha!" Kenet cried out in response, shaking his fist at the creature as it disappeared from view. The battle was now winding down. The final Nazha would retreat, or be defeated by his comrades.

But Kenet would not be denied.

The cut on his back pulsed painfully, and he once again felt the red mist rise before his eyes. With long strides and murderous intent, he crossed the gap between himself and the one-armed Nazha, drawing up behind it as it focused on the mage. Reaching out, he grasped the top of its head in his palm... and squeezed. With a strangled cry, the Nazha's skull imploded at his touch like a rotten melon, spilling dark and horrifically pestiferous fluids onto Kenet's skin and down onto the ground, where they mingled with the mud and smoked quietly. Releasing his grip on the Nazha, he allowed it to slump into the ground at his feet, where its body hissed, writhed, and gradually decayed into nothing. The brutality of the kill tempered his bloodlust, and he suddenly relaxed, bending over and breathing deeply and rapidly until the adrenaline rush passed. Fixing his gaze on the mage whose glory he had stolen, he offered a breathless apology.

"Sorry, killer. But I owed him death. Come, we must purge the rest of these creatures."

< Message edited by Zephyrial -- 1/30/2015 22:54:10 >
Post #: 126
1/31/2015 14:28:32   
Bastet
Member

Symphony had spent the pause they had earned by escaping Frail’s grasp recovering the energies they had spent summoning the knight. They were still largely disappointed they couldn’t prevent the Nazha from taking Lily, and sat in the desolate alley they had warned Kitsondra from.

They watched as Gorst killed himself out of spite towards the vampire, but their guitar still sat idly at their side. Attempting to fight any longer would tax the spirit’s energy greatly, and magic had the potential to be just as dangerous for the wielder as it was for the target. The defeated Nazha laughed maniacally, probably at his own misery, but it didn’t quite sound like the laugh of a being who had faced defeat. Symphony knew why that was well enough: the one they had tried to protect was being carried away at that very moment.

Whatever possessed the decaying Nazha’s cloak seemed to want to take revenge against the one that had killed their wearer, and ensnared Kitsondra’s whole body. The hold seemed tight enough that Kitsondra couldn’t breathe, but it crumbled away just as Gorst had. With a final laugh, the dark spawn was no more. Symphony was, at the very least, glad that they had the chance to prove that the Nazha weren’t immortal.
They also came to respect the vampire as a creature of great power, considering the scale of magic they had employed on the battlefield against the Nazha.

Symphony finally relaxed and leaned their back against a house’s damaged wall, thinking that the Nazha’s attack was over. They were mistaken though, from the Inn emerged the one who had fought them, seemingly enraged by the fact that his comrade had been slain by the combined efforts of Blackwater’s defenders. He raced towards Kitsondra possessed by anger beyond all saving, although he probably wasn’t going to be able to hold his own against two… or three.

Something sparked in the bard when they saw Frail, probably because their disappointment transformed into anger. They just couldn’t bear to see that one particular Nazha after all that had been done to try and protect Lily, especially when all others had retreated. The bard didn’t care if the Nazha had an ally to avenge and, for the first time since they had came to be, were animated by a purely murderous intent.
Once again, Symphony stood and took up their guitar. Their fingers moved to compose a sonata that the spirit had never heard, as if they had a will of their own.

It didn’t matter though, Symphony just wanted to see Frail dead.

They walked out of the alley and moved themselves to the Nazha’s side just as they began sparring against Sera, though still keeping their distance until they felt the unknown spell was ready. Symphony strummed their guitar as if a demon had taken their body, the grace of their previous songs completely gone.

Sera couldn’t possibly defeat the Nazha by herself, but she wasn’t going to stand alone for much longer. Symphony instinctively positioned themselves to the side of the dueling duo, realizing what effect the spell would’ve had just before it fired.

“Die.”

The bard had spoken with an almost malevolent voice, far from the one they usually used. They braced their guitar and pointed it towards Frail, and they just didn’t care if he was going to predict their movements. They would hunt the dark spawn back to the forest whence it came.

An extremely intense jet of flames shot off from the guitar’s tip, aimed towards the Nazha, and Symphony hoped Sera would have the reflexes to move out of the way in time. They felt their very own vital energy being pulled into the guitar, and a hefty amount of it at that, but incinerating the dark creature took priority.
The spell was by no means one that the bard could use regularly, as they completely depleted their magical reserves after a few seconds of maintaining the jet of fire. Symphony thought they had probably damaged themselves as much as they had damaged the Nazha, but they couldn’t stay and observe the results of their new spell.

The bard interrupted the spell, their instrument magically intact, coughed up some blood and fell to the ground. The smell of something burning entered Symphony’s nostrils as they drifted into a heavy sleep.
Post #: 127
2/1/2015 13:11:00   
Draycos777
Member

"You want me to use magic, vampire!?"

Kitsondra stood motionless as Gorst started to laugh, and still as his body started to fade. As the cloak the Nazha wear tighten around her leg and then her body squeezed, she kept motionless a side from a cough. Kitsondra stood still, still processing the fact the the Nazha was now gone. It had escaped her grasp, but not in the was she had expected or had wanted. Kitsondra gritted her teeth in order to keep from shouting in frustration.

"OI! WHO SAID YOU COULD RUN AWAY! I THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE UNDEFEATABLE, IS THAT IT! WAS THIS JUST A WASTE OF TIM- iie, calm down Kitsondra if you get to angry you might expose yourself. The stupid idiot had little more then called out to Symphony and Sera that you were a vampire, don't make it look like it was right. Cool your head."

Kitsondra took a deep breath, and hung her head. Blocking out all other sounds as she exhaled. The adrenaline finally leaving her system, she began to think normally once more. While Kitsondra was still angry about the recent turn of events she could calmly asset her current situation. In the direction of the Inn, she heard someone scream 'No' which was followed by the clacking of steel. Kitsondra turned around to she Symphony roast the Nazha fighting Sera. The Nazha had already used magic to blast a hole in the side of the Inn, so Kitsondra doubted that it had any magic left to heal itself. Sera should be able to finish the thing, but she could still convert her spell to help the youngin. With an enraged, flaming Nazha on her, Sera wouldn't be able to shake her off this time.

"Element of Wind and Earth, heed my call!"

Pressing the palm of her left hand on Sera's back, Kitsondra let her magic flow from her to the girl as she spoke.

"The condition is the one that I touch, let them appear many before thy enemies!"

With a strong gust of wind, two more Seras appeared, one on either side of the original one.

"These are the same as before, only weaker. You should be able to finish him off by yourself but just in case here's some help. Use them wisely." After whispering in Sera's ear, Kitsondra turned to the spirit that had passed out. Lifting her up by the collar in her right hand and graping her guitar in the other, Kitsondra made her way to the Inn.

"Your much heavier then I thought you'd be for a spirit. Your also full of surprises. I thought you were going to run away like all the others. Hmm, did I misjudge you?"

In the destroyed bar, Kitsondra placed the sleeping spirit with the others that were hiding from the attack. After noticing that Sloan was hurt, Kitsondra left to rejoin the fight.

Surveying the area, Kitsondra noticed that some of the Nazha had fled the fight to join their Master. She also noticed a strong trail of swampy smell leading out of the town. Looking around for the source, Kitsondra soon noticed the blood trail leading in the same direction as the Master Nazha.

"Well, well. Maybe it isn't our lost after all Gorst...."

Continuing to look around Kitsondra saw that once again, Marcelline had gotten herself in another situation. By helping that Witch hunter no less. Kitsondra sighed.

"Well even if she does act distant and to a higher stander then most, she still can leave someone behind." Kitsondra smiled. "Whether she knows it or know, she quite the kind-hearted girl."

Making a B-line straight towards the Nazha attacking Marcelline. Shooting another blast of compressed magic at the Nazha's face, Kitsondra stopped next to the girl. Turning to look at the witch-hunter she smiled.

"Don't worry, you can sit this one out. Besides, someone who can't shoot a fireball with out falling over would just get in the way. Even Marcelline can accomplish that."

Turning toward the Nazha, Kitsondra used another blast to counter it's incoming sword. "Who do you think you are? Do you realize who's apprentice your trying to kill? If not, then I will have to educate you."

Pointing towards the Nazha's sword, Kitsondra cast another illusion. "Disappear." The Nazha's sword slowly began to fade away until nothing was there.

"So, how do you plan on fighting me without a sword?" She then turned toward the girl. "Ah, Marcelline. Could you be a dear and let me borrow your parasol for a brief moment?"
AQ  Post #: 128
2/1/2015 15:15:02   
black knight 1234567
Member

Things were looking grim for Sorlan. The repulsive being slowly made its way over. tightening its grip around its blade. Maybe he couldn't see through the pitch black cloak of the hood, but the body language said it all. This unearthly being was in a state of triumph.
But Sorlan wouldn't give up so easy, just when the creature was within arms reach he stretched out his arm in an attempt to stab the creature straight through the gut, but with lightning fast reflexes they locked blades once more, only for the Nazha's position of leverage to come into play as it kneed the bounty hunter straight in the face, knocking him back unto his back, his obsidian black armor making a ''thud'' against the rain.

And the sight greeting him as he looked above was the sharp edged blade aimed straight at his chest.
Dozens of thoughts and memories ran through Therin's head as he spit out a bit of blood, no doubt a result of the previous assault, only to utter a few words.
''Well, this is it old boy...''


And the next thing he felt was blood. But not his blood, no. It was obsidian black and thick, with a disgusting odre, more so than any other creature the monster slayer had pursued before. He looked above, only to find that church girl running a blade straight through the skull of the Nazha. The sound of the cracking of bones or whatever hideous composition the monster hid under there was heard by Sorlan, he quickly rolled to the side during the creatures outburst of rage to make a grab for is blade, that is until Kitsondra decided to pay a visit.

Don't worry, you can sit this one out. Besides, someone who can't shoot a fireball with out falling over would just get in the way. Even Marcelline can accomplish that.
Rage ran through Therin's blood. He was being made a mockery off once again, and he would not have it. He held his blade tightly in his hand, the grip shaking from the sheer focus of anger being poured unto the blade as it turned into flame, but not any flame. It was dark red with streaks of black, almost as if it was personification of his rage. It seems the crafty information broker had cast another one of her illusions as the creature seems to be in state of disarray, and that was the opportunity Sorlan needed. He ran and ran, his blade aimed directly at the creatures shoulder, it was only mere seconds before that very same cracking noise was heard, only this time it wasn't a puny knife.

He twisted the blade further, the Nazha letting out noises of anguish and pain as he proceeded to run his blade through its arm, cutting it off completely while simultaneously the flames spread across the pitch black cloak, but he would not stop there. In a frenzy of madness, he kept slashing and hacking at the creature, from all angles. A stab in the back, followed by running the blade through the creatures waist before cutting off its other arm and slashing it twice across the chest and finally, hacking its head completely off.

The Nazha was no more, Sorlan stood victorious over the remains of his enemy as he gasped for air, almost tripping once more before he regained his allignment, the flame of his sword slowly extinguishing bit my bit before he made direct eye contact with the vampire.

''Consider this a learning experience and a foreshadowing of your untimely demise, blood sucker.''
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 129
2/1/2015 16:37:01   
Master K
Member

Marcelline had herself locked in combat with the zealous Nazha. She was doing fine on her own, but could not land a hit, exchanging missing blows. Within the instant, Kitsondra had swooped in to save the day. With a smirk, she had turned to the hunter on the ground to tell him he could sit out, if he even couldn't so much as shoot a fireball without falling over. Marcelline, as meek as she appeared, could even do that, apparently. Nevermind the fact that she took down one of the Nazha with some backup. She was pleased to hear Kitsondra acknowledge her apprenticeship to her. Marcelline was about to offer up her umbrella, until the hunter rose to his feet, enraged, and brutalized the Nazha opponent.

"I can't seem to tell who's more inhuman." Marcelline thought, watching the spectacle.

After the hunter finished, he turned to Kitsondra to deliver a threat, clear as day.
"Consider this a learning experience and a foreshadowing of your untimely demise, blood sucker."

"I'd rather that blasphemous Nazha to have survived their scuffle."

Marcelline smiled faintly and laughed slightly. A highly inappropriate reaction to someone who could easily follow through with his threats, as well. He already bashed down a door to the inn. He's made it clear that he's a threat to someone like Marcelline. Whether or not she was worth his time was another question. However, the fact that he was picking a fight with Kitsondra was enough to ensure that he was an enemy. However, Marcelline treated it like any other meeting.

"Kyrie eleison." She said to Sorlan. She had somewhat of a sarcastic sting in her polite tone. Whether or not he understood what it meant, she intended it near sarcastically. She held her hands to her chest, as if in prayer. "You should reserve thine blade for something that's truly problematic. Perhaps another malicious door?" With that comment, she laughed. She was really throwing herself to the lions, but her words spoke truth, even if it would come back to haunt her.

She then turned to Kitsondra. "If you still need to use my umbrella, feel free to take it."
She suddenly sank back into her more reserved mannerisms.

"We have more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the girl. Do we give chase?" She said.
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 130
2/1/2015 20:36:12   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta watched the arrow on its flight, the shaft winging skyward. It was a good shot. The hunter knew it was a good shot, as though the arrow was guided by the hand of providence itself. Her teeth flashed in a wolfish grin as the projectile bit into its target, lodging itself in the flying Nazha’s stomach, missing Lily by only a few inches. The darkspawn, with even more disdain than the other Nazha had shown for their injuries, plucked the arrow out with a gout of blood, snapping it and casting the pieces away in disgust.

The half-elf closed her eyes, letting out a slow exhalation as the darkspawn standing above her burst apart, becoming a swarm of hellish screeching bats that beat their way skyward, flying after his bleeding master. Blue eyes opened a moment later, the smile fading from Marietta’s face. She rose slowly, gathering her things together and checking to ensure her gear was intact. Several of the arrows in her quiver had broken as a result of her unusual and forced transit, but her bow was intact, and everything else was in place.

Turning, the hunter surveyed the scene with a quick sweep of her eyes, taking in the battles as the remaining darkspawn fled or were dispatched. The guards had suffered terribly, and those she could see were either down and unmoving, or nursing wounds. She nodded once, to herself, since there was no one else nearby, arriving at the only decision she could under the circumstances. Pivoting, the half-elf moved towards the still open gate, and the trail she had seen forming, only to halt at the sound of a voice behind her.

“Marietta, wait!” Drex hurried up to her, clutching a long oak staff in his hands. “You’re alright, thank goodness. Where are you going?”

Marietta frowned slightly, smoothing the expression away after a moment with years of practice. “You shouldn’t be here, Drex. You’re a carpenter, not a guard.”

“Well,” he frowned himself, glancing around. “we might need a few more guards after this…” The man shook his head, looking back at the hunter and refusing to be distracted. “Where are you going?”

The half-elf sighed, her voice soft. “They took the girl, Drex. I’m going to follow them.”

“Marietta, that… that thing was flying.”

“It was also bleeding, Drex,” Marietta returned gently, “I can follow the trail.”

“That’s insane. You saw what these things did, what they’re capable of. You can’t go out there alone!”

The hunter looked back towards the town for a moment. “There’s no time to waste, Drex, and if not me then who?”

“Let me come with you then.”

Marietta looked at the carpenter, putting a gentle smile on her face. “You’re a good man, Drex, but this is beyond you. Go home to your wife.”

He scowled, stamping a foot irritably. “And what about you? Suppose you find them, then what? You’ll be alone out there, outnumbered, with no one to help you!”

“When I find them, I’ll come back. Someone needs to track them to their lair, find out what they are intending to do. I can’t wait for the others to sort themselves out. I’m ready now, and the trail is cooling as we speak. If you have to do something, find Sloan and tell him what happened here. He’ll know what to do.”

Drex bit his lip, looking from the half-elf to the distant inn, and back again. “Marietta, please, this isn’t your job.”

“But it is, Drex, it is. I’m a Sentinel, and this is what I am.” Without waiting for a reply, Marietta turned and trotted out the gate, eyes flicking over the ground and picking up the trail from the blood she had seen cascading from the darkspawn’s wound.

She was a Sentinel, as she had told the Nazha, the last standing against the Night. Her hand lifted, outlining the form of the pendant beneath her clothing. The title would hold no meaning to anyone here in Blackwater, even Kitsondra with all her knowledge and contacts. There had only ever been five of them, five children with mad dreams of honor and glory.

Ten years ago there had been a darkness, an inn, a little girl. Now, her closest friends mouldered in their graves, and she still heard their voices, calling out for vengeance, reminding her of her duty. Dead, they lingered on in her heart, and it was her heart that whispered to her that this was right, that this was what must be. Marietta loped through the woods, sharp eyes flashing over the foliage, only marginally hindered by the dark.

Ten years ago they had failed, and there had been only defeat, only death and horror and flight. She had stripped away all the extraneous material of her life, and rebuilt a foundation of steel upon the ruins of everything she had known, tempered by suffering and an encounter with a blackness that still stained her soul. Now there was another inn, another little girl. Whatever the personal cost to herself might be, Marietta intended to pay it. It was no less than what she owed her dearest friends, those she had loved so long ago.

Drawing an arrow, Marietta set it upon the string and kept moving along the faint trail, memories of the past bubbling up unbidden. There was blood, so much blood, and a woman’s soft whisper. “I would bear a thousand wounds, and die ten thousand deaths if each would buy the safety of an innocent life.”
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 131
2/2/2015 15:43:07   
Bastet
Member

Symphony’s sleep, even if they were now safe from danger thanks to Kitsondra, wasn’t peaceful. Someone was probably taking care of them, but the spirit felt as if they were trapped in their own mind. That, and the last time they had slept they were still completely human in nature. It also surely couldn’t have been a natural sleep, as the spirit hadn’t felt the need to rest since they had come to be.

Their mind was still intact, and they were able to think. Even if their body was momentarily neutralized, the spirit was conscious of what had happened to them.

Am I dead? Did I just kill myself to ensure that blasted Nazha’s demise?

Suddendly, Symphony found themselves surrounded by darkness. They had their body back, but everything around them was black. They could only see themselves. The bard knew that they weren’t alone, as they felt an unknown presence.

“You’re far from dead, spirit.”

In front of Symphony appeared a humanoid figure barely distinguishable from the background, its features mostly hidden. The musician was amused, yet confused by this scene: they were curious to learn what was happening to them. Its voice was distorted, and something long hung slightly above its hip, probably a sword.

The figure spoke again, without letting the spirit reply.

“I am the one who has been calling to you. You should recognize my signature well enough, considering how sensitive to magic you are.”

Symphony took a moment to examine the figure, and found their presence to be identical to the one they felt before engaging the Nazha. After all the battling that had been going on, the previous morning felt like a memory of a time long gone.

“Remember me now? Good. I want you to find me.”

The bard was momentarily dumbfound at this statement; they were still exhausted by the battle against the dark spawn. For the first time since they had woken in what seemed to be their own mind, they spoke to the figure.

“Who are you though? Why are you calling to me? How would I even get to you in the first place, I only barely know the direction to follow.”

The figure chuckled sarcastically before speaking once again.

“Answers to the first two questions will be your prize when you reach me, Symphony. As for how to find me, I’ve made my trail strong enough to follow once you leave Blackwater and enter the inner forest. From there, you’ll know where to go. Now wake up, we’re done chatting.”

As soon as the figure disappeared, Symphony woke up from their slumber. Someone had put them down by the fireplace and covered their body with a thin blanket. A few people noticed that the spirit had opened their eyes, but they were still worried that the fight wasn’t yet over. That, and Sloan had been injured.
The musician stayed where they had been left, thinking over the figure’s words.
Would it have been a trail worth following?
Post #: 132
2/2/2015 16:58:44   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 This just wasn't Sera's day.

She had to stand in defense of someone she strongly disliked not once, but twice. And if these Nazha weren't difficult enough to fight, she had to dodge fireballs from allies that didn't seem to have any idea how to not aim at the people they were fighting with. She had barely managed to dodge the brunt of that attack and was rewarded for her pains by the stench of burnt hair and singed armor.

Then when she had to focus too strongly on dodging the Nazha's attacks, though the task was made easier by the fireball, the broker came up behind her and did something. The 'something' was easy enough to figure out when two more of her appeared.

"Does she think I'm so incompetent with a blade that I can't handle a weakened enemy?" The anger that came with that thought was enough to give her a nice boost of speed and strength. One strike. Two. Dodge. Dodge. There! A quick stab and the Nazha, already nearly killed from the bard's attack, fell to her blade.

Looking around, the others were managing to finish off their opponents. The strange one who had invaded her personal space earlier killed one rather brutally. And the man who was after Kitsondra's bounty savagely brought down another.

She wasn't sure how to find where the Nazha that took the girl went so she started to head into the inn when movement caught her eye. The elf, or was she a half-elf? was leaving the town. Curious, she walked that direction, not expecting to find anything and pleasantly surprised at the black trail. A black trail that was identical to the black substance coating her blade from her stabbing of the Nazha. It was wounded. It could be tracked with this. And years of bounty hunting had given Sera a vast amount of experience at following a trail.

Marietta was competent. Sera knew that and wasn't going to insult her skills by assuming her aid was needed. But an extra pair of eyes and a ready blade couldn't hurt, either. The bow user hadn't left long ago, it wouldn't be difficult to catch up.

It had been as easy as Sera had thought to catch the woman. Not wanting to startle her, she quietly cleared her throat to let the woman know she wasn't alone.

"These Nazha are dangerous. I wouldn't want to track them alone any more than I'd let another do so. Perhaps I can help."
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 133
2/3/2015 23:00:54   
Tdub
Member

"The trick is to get 'em alone."

Lock sighed. He had heard this at least a hundred times, with a good twenty of those being in the past half hour. His father always got like this when he had taken down something good to eat, and wolf meat was always one of his favorites. Personally, Lock found the taste disgusting, but he had learned a long time ago to never be picky and never express dissatisfaction. His father's excitement continued to bubble out in the form of repetitive conversation.

"When they're alone, they're hard to take down, but much easier than if they were with a pack. Y'know what? I think it must be a subconcious thing. Like, they want to prove themselves alone so badly, since they spend all their lives working with others, that they fail. I dunno. There's gotta be some reason."


The blade drifted closer and closer to Lock, and the young man knew it was the end. In the history books, he would have liked to be remembered as a hero, a brave casualty who died so that others may fight on. He wanted to be seen as an inspiration, an example and a martyr who proved what happens when one gets caught up in a commercial life. None of this was true.

Death had always terrified Lock. As free-spirited as his father had been, he never fully shared his optimism and embracing of death. To his father, death had seemed the ultimate goal, the journey's end. To Lock, it was the monster to escape, the adversary to conquer. He had never really thought about how he might die. He knew it was naïve of him, and yet, having lived his entire life surviving the Darkwald, he never truly believed the forest could bring itself to kill him. He was its adopted child, and a small part of his mind believed he could hide from death there forever. And so, faced with death now, Lock was completely terrified.

Kinda funny. You survive your entire life in the demon woods and you die the very day you spend more than an hour in civilization. Lock could imagine his father saying that. Always trying to find the humor in everything. This isn't funny, old man. I'm going to die.

I'm going to die. The Nazha was nearing, now only moments away from striking the fatal blow. The last few seconds seemed to take eons as the evil figure crept closer and closer....

And thwn stopped. The Nazha looked away. Lock's instincts kicked in. No time to see what had distracted the creature, only time to act. Castor was several feet behind the Nazha, but still Lock dove forward, scurrying to his fallen blade while switiching Pollux to his right hand. The distraction only diverted the wretched creature's attention for a moment. Turning back, it saw its quarry scrambling for his weapon, and brought its foot down on the passing left hand of the human.

"Augh!" The cry was loud, for Lock distinctly heard a snap within his hand. Quickly, he drove Pollux into the Nazha's leg. Disgusting, rancid blood poured from the room as the demon screeched, lifting its leg. Ignoring the pain, Lock left Pollux embedded as he closed the distance between himself and Castor. He grabbed the blade and and stood, turning to see that the Nazha was directly behind him, raising its blade.

There was no time to think, or to reason through his preposterous idea. Instead of the obvious swing or stab with his knife, Lock threw his entire body forward, knocking the Nazha off balance. The combination of surprise and the knife embedded in its leg overwhelmed the creature, sending both it and its attacker over the edge of the gate and into the city. There were perhaps ten feet from the top to the bottom, and every one seemed to take an eternity to pass.

Ten. Nine. Eight. The Nazha recovered from its surprise, reaching at Lock's throat.

Seven. Six. Five. Lock fought back, attempting to angle the fall.

Four. Three. Two. The creature's hands closed around Lock's throat as the man stuggled to angle the fall exactly where he wanted it....

One.
Post #: 134
2/4/2015 15:09:13   
Draycos777
Member

Kitsondra's plan work like a charm. Almost to well actually. Sorlan reacted to Kitsondra's taunt just as she had hoped, and cut the Nazha to shreds in his fury.

After striking down the Nazha, the winded Witch-hunter turned to Kitsondra, almost tripping over his own two feet, and looked her in the eye. ''Consider this a learning experience and a foreshadowing of your untimely demise, blood sucker.'' If he was trying to sound threatening, it would have been better if he wasn't gasping for air at the moment.

"Ugh, what is with everyone today and trying to scream to the world that I'm a vampire." She glanced at Marcelline. The girl didn't seem to have noticed and was more focused on the recent threat. "Thank goodness for my luck today."

"Kyrie eleison." The girl said as she put up her facade again, putting up her hands in a prayer-like fashion. "You should reserve thine blade for something that's truly problematic. Perhaps another malicious door?"

It took a lot for Kitsondra to keep a straight face. The girl had wit for her age, that was for sure. After her sarcastic remark, Marcelline turned to Kitsondra. "If you still need to use my umbrella, feel free to take it." Returning to her usual tone of voice, she questioned what their next move should be as Kitsondra studied her Parasol. "We have more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the girl. Do we give chase?"

Taking in the length, size and the tip's point, Kitsondra nodded her head memorizing it. "Not bad workmanship surprisingly." Kitsondra mumbled to herself, seemingly ignoring the question as she swung it a few times.

Satisfied, Kitsondra placed the tip of the parasol into the ground and answered the girl's question. "No, not by ourselves at least. What we should do is help free up our allies and then head there, going out alone is the same as having a death wish." Kitsondra noticed Marietta walking into the forest, and Sera following after, out in the distance. "Or at least that's the wisest course of action, however, it seems one foolish girl thought differently. What is she thinking? She can't sense magic so if the blood trail drys she'll be lost. Not only that be the only one she is following is the leader, if the others are waiting in the forest for followers she'll be an easy target."

Kitsondra sighed and shook her head. "Aren't Elves suppose to be wise? Why is this one acting like a possessed fool? And what is Sera doing? Being aware of a potential attack should be second to none in her line of work. Does she really believe that they've fit to face off against an ambush after the fighting they just did?"

"Well first things are first. Can you round help everyone that is free and bring them here for me please? I'll get started on a spell that will help us prevent an ambush will we give chase."

Kitsondra turned to the Witch-hunter. "As for you. If you are going to threaten somebody's life, then you should at least do it when you can back up that claim. We both know that you used to much of your magic with that last attack. Do you plan on attacking me with just your sword?" Kitsondra chuckled. "We both know how that turned out. As it stands I could take your life with just this parasol." Kitsondra looked down at the umbrella. The Witch-hunter was about to say something with his sword drawn when Kitsondra reacted. Flicking the tip she had stuck in the ground, a dust cloud of dirt shot straight for the man's face. Side-stepping out of the way from a possible sword swing, spun around and hit the hunter in the back of the head with the umbrella's body. Using her current momentum, she got behind the Witch-hunter and pressed the pointed tip to the back of his neck.

"Let me be frank with you. I hate your kind. You think that just because you've killed some high-ranking monsters that your untouchable and every magical being should fear you. I bet you no different either. You fell so easily to my trick that neither Marcelline or I had to lift a finger to kill the Nazha. You did it all on your own and wasted all of your magic in the process, along with your second chance of killing me tonight. Do you honestly believe that you should have the gall of threatening me right now? As of right now, Lilly, the girl is in danger and Toren is nowhere to be found, therefore, the contract that you placed upon yourself is still in affect. I suggest you decide who your enemy is right now."

Taking the pointed tip off the hunter neck, Kitsondra gave the parasol back to Marcelline. "Thank you, now go and find the others and be a forceful as you see fit in bring them here. We don't have much time left."

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 2/4/2015 15:10:14 >
AQ  Post #: 135
2/4/2015 21:36:11   
Zephyrial
Member

The battle was over. All the Nazha had either fled, or had been slain by the group. But it was a Pyrrhic victory, for the girl, Lily, had been carried off to Hell, and her protector was nowhere to be found.

The stench of the Nazha's blood offended Kenet, and he was suddenly seized with a desire to be clean. He looked down at himself, at his unnatural pallor... it was impossible that anybody had missed it. There was no point in hiding anymore. So as soon as he had confirmed that the Nazha had indeed been purged from the town, he made a beeline for the Stone River, ignoring all else. Tearing off all but his underclothes, he plunged bodily into its cool waters. There he remained for a while, allowing the gore of battle and the years of accumulated dirt and grime to vanish from his body. He also felt the weight of those years lessen a little - a peculiar feeling, for he was by all accounts in great peril, and was no closer to finding the truth about his past than he had been the day he awoke on that prison ship. Despite these obstacles, the water soothed him. When he was done, he lurched out of the water and shook himself off, before making his way to the nearest house and rapping on the door.

I suppose it's time to test how people will react to me... if the homeowner tries to kill me, I suppose I shall have to go naked.

After a beat, it creaked open a little, and the wary eyes of a middle-aged man glared at him from the crack. Kenet smiled, and spoke politely but confidently. "Hello sir! You needn't worry, the monsters have left the town. Pray, do you have any old clothes you might spare? My own were ruined in the fight."

The gentleman seemed somewhat disbelieving of his assertion that the town was free of monsters - most sensibly so, given Kenet's own appearance, and the presence of several other most unusual folk among the group - and for a moment his eyes flashed with the desire to attack. On balance, however, the man seemed to decide that at the very least, it was better not to insult the creature at his door. "Wait here", came the gruff reply, and a few seconds later a parcel of clothes were thrust through the open door, which was then hastily closed.

Kenet thanked the man, but he was almost certainly ignored. With a slight sigh, he turned away from the door and examined his gift. He felt somewhat guilty, for these clothes were most assuredly not old rags, but were in fact very fine. A shirt of rich green linen, corduroy trousers, and a leather jerkin comprised the outfit, with accompanying undergarments. Donning his new clothes, he retrieved his belt and washed the grime from his old boots, restoring them to an acceptable quality once again. Fully adorned, he looked quite grand, far more so than a traveller should. However, this new look only amplified his unearthly qualities. His exposed face and hands, shorn of their disguise, now displayed his peculiar colouring unabashedly - it shone a pale silver-green, as if forged from an alloy of unpolished silver and jade. He cut an alien figure... but at the very least, he now smelt far, far better.

I haven't felt this clean in a decade! It feels... good. Perhaps it's time to give up on the whole 'Wanderer' disguise, and continue my search without shame, out in the light?

First things first.

He wandered warily over to where the others were beginning to congregate. Two of their number, more specifically the two huntresses, had already left the town and began forging a foolhardy path into the undergrowth. Three - the information broker, Kitsondra, the witch, Marcelline, and the hot-headed hunter with a grudge against doors - were standing around in the centre of town, presumably deciding whether or not to follow them. Just as Kenet was approaching, however, Kitsondra and the hunter suddenly launched into a violent confrontation, the former wielding Marcelline's umbrella like a schoolteacher's ruler. He rushed forward, though not in time to reach the trio before the violet-haired devil came out on top. As she dispatched Marcelline to recover the dispersed heroes, Kenet drew up to the group, placatory hand outstretched.

"Peace, friends," he called out evenly, "Now is not the time for infighting. Any differences we have can wait until after we find the girl." He turned towards Kitsondra and gave her an expectant look. "That is the plan, right?"

< Message edited by Zephyrial -- 2/4/2015 21:39:07 >
Post #: 136
2/5/2015 23:50:31   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 The splashes of blood moved off the trail, and Marietta was, perforce, required to leave the beaten earth track behind. Like everyone who lived in the Darkwald, she had heard the admonishments not to leave the established trails. There were… things in the forest, things strange and alien to civilized thoughts and climes, things that crept and crawled, and mused darkly in the remote places of the forest. The hunter was aware of those things, and had even seen one or two on her expeditions. She respected the forest, acknowledged the dangers that it contained, and continued on in the face of that danger. It was not bravado, however, simply an application of appropriate cautions and careful study that contributed to her continued survival..

Stepping lightly over a dead fall, the half-elf paused. Her keen hearing picked up the sound of someone approaching from behind her, someone from the direction of Blackwater. Frowning slightly, she readied herself to sternly order Drex back to the relative safety of the city.

Those words died unspoken as the person behind her cleared their throat, and Marietta turned, recognizing the woman approaching her as Sera, the bounty hunter. The hunter was only passingly familiar with the woman. They had seen one another once or twice at the inn, but Sera came and went nearly as often as Marietta herself did, and the half-elf could not clearly recall any major interaction or conversation with the woman, only a few trifling words spoken in passing.

The hunter considered Sera as the woman spoke, cool blue eyes unreadable in the dimness of the dusky forest. So far as Marietta knew, the bounty hunter was human. That assumption implied certain things, regarding Sera’s utility to the task at hand. Still, the girl had no time for them to spend arguing with one another, and thus Marietta skipped the argument entirely, moving on to what was more important to the girl, and their chances. “As you wish. My eyes and ears are better than yours. Stay behind me, move carefully, and tie down your equipment so it does not rattle. We move fast and quiet. Should we find the darkspawn, we learn what we can of them, their lair, and their goals, then we return and fetch the others. We will take the girl back if we have a chance, but it may be better to draw back and let them rest thinking themselves secure.”

Turning, the half-elf started forward again without waiting for a response from the bounty hunter, her eyes flicking over the foliage and picking up the trail of blood again with only moderate difficulty. Sera’s presence was a boon, in a way. The bounty hunter was no doubt a better duelist than Marietta was, and while two were twice as easy to detect as one, having Sera along could be advantageous. Marietta could send the bounty hunter back to Blackwater to report their findings, and remain to keep an eye on the Nazha.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 137
2/8/2015 11:25:21   
TJByrum
Member

Several Months Ago...

"I've simply named it 'Nazha Sickness'." Toric reached over to his side and pulled a pile of notes from his satchel. "Here, this is a pretty detailed report, as written by Keeper Skars, as well as a sample of the catalyst."

Toren held his hands out and allowed his ally to place the pile of crumpled and bent papers in his hands, gripping them so that the wind might not steal them from his possession. Three individuals: two warriors and a child, were walking down the southern road and heading out of Asgeir. "If I find the time, I'll be sure to give it a quick look-over."

"Of course," replied Toric, halting in place and causing the other two individuals to do so. "Skars tells me it affects mind, body, and spirit. It's a sickly infection brought on by contact with the Nazha, and seems to worsen if the Nazha actually made direct contact - whether with blade, magic, or mere touch. Skars attempted to cure one of our kind - the first Keeper who had fought them - but was unable to save him. In the second encounter we had two injuries, and while one died, Skars was able to save the other. It was a mixture of some practical healing substances I think, and the catalyst, though I'm sure Skars included a more detailed description within the notes. The illness, it produces pain, nausea, sickness, among other symptoms, some of them physically visible."

Toren nodded his head and the trio remained quiet for a moment. "So I assume this is where we part ways?"

"Indeed, friend. Take good care of Lily, she's all that I have left in this world."

Toren bowed slightly, "absolutely, Toric, I shall look after her as if she was my own, even if it brings me my death. But what about you? What will you be doing exactly, if you don't mind me asking?"

Toric grinned, sighing as he was forced to once again skirt around the truth. "I... I still have some work to finish. A day of reckoning is coming, and I must make sure my people are prepared for it. These Nazha... they're nothing but a thorn in the grand scheme of things. I know the task I give you is great, but if you fail, speak the words: vol amar, Sidonis."

Toren nodded in acceptance, remembering the phrase with all his mental might. "Alright then, Lily are you ready to go?"

The young girl stood in silence, obviously not wanting to leave her father. Toric bent down and hugged the girl in his strong arms and she replied back with her own hug, tears streaming down her face. What she had experienced already, what she was about to experience - it was something a young child should ever experience. "I... I don't want to go..."

"It'll be okay, baby girl, I promise." Toric ran his fingers down her cheek, "don't worry, we'll see each other again - I promise. Toren, he... he'll take good care of you Lily. This is the only way I know you'll be safe."

With a final hug, Lily took Toren's outstretched hand and the two departed, heading south out of Asgeir... in the direction of the Darkwald.



Current day...

"Vol amar... Sidonis..." Toren let out a final breath... and was transported into another realm. Stripped naked of all his possessions, the warrior found himself falling through an endless abyss of darkness. Was he blind or was there merely no light? He reached out but there was nothing to grab! A sudden burst of red flame-like energy appeared before him, illuminating the darkness but revealing nothing in sight. In the middle of the crimson aura appeared the face of a twisted, ancient being.

Speaking in a voice more fierce than any Nazha, the great being announced "So another mortal yet enters my fold..." it paused for a moment as its expression grew into one of curiosity. Once again its deep, dark voice boomed throughout the abyss. "But not any mortal... this one is Nazha! It spoke in such a way that Nazha brought it disgust. Hate was fueled into the word, almost as if it meant for the sound waves to explode in rage and anger.

"I have renounced that title," Toren called out to the great beastly being.

"Indeed... the die is cast then, you're forever bound by flame and blood as my disciple. Now, go forth Toren of Asgeir, and defeat the Nazha you once called brothers!"

The haze of red disappeared within itself, drawing into a ball of crimson fire before blinking out of the existence. The abyss seemed to fade away as Toren reappeared within the physical world, back into his armor and clothing. He could observe the split made in his cloak and armor where the Master's sword had unsuccessfully 'injured' him. He arose with new-found strength, looking around and observing his surroundings. The Master was off the distance, Lily in his clutches, while the other Nazha were in haste after him. Two of his allies had already given chase, following what appeared to be some sort of blood trail. The others congregated at the town's northern gates.

Toren walked with haste towards the meeting point, looking at his allies. When they looked upon him they noticed a large difference: his muscles pulsed with a dark energy, his eyes had turned blood-red, and his skin had all but faded into a color reminiscent of snow, a stark contrast against his long black hair. But more fearsome than anything else were the two small horns that seemed to slightly protrude from his forehead.

"I'm pretty sure Marietta and Sera are going to need help," he said in a malevolent voice. The demonic hybrid known as Toren turned his back on the group and headed off in the direction of the two huntresses.

< Message edited by TJByrum -- 2/8/2015 11:27:27 >
DF AQW  Post #: 138
2/9/2015 5:41:05   
blankmaskara
Member

Franklin watched raptly, his eyes shining a malicious scarlet as a pair of blades pierced through air, heading straight for the Nazha. However, before they could meet their target, with a flick of the eyes and a quick leap, they skittered onto the stony path, silent.

"You were saying?"

With a wide smile and a look filled with bloodlust, the Nazha spiralled through the air and let the edge of its blade descend onto Franklin, the teeth of the sword promising nothing but a violent end for the cripple.

And this was exactly what he wanted.

Grasping his staff firmly, Franklin swung his weapon in a savage, brutish manner, intending for wood to clash against serrated bone while his hand burst into a flame of black and crimson red. He could see it now. A war of weapons, with wood and bone-infused steel bashing against each other, blow for blow as knives, balls of flame, and with all sorts of demonic spells being thrown out in order for one to gain some advantage over the other. This was what he desired. A bloody duel between just them two, with no outsiders or intruders of the sort. Just them, with only one victor to reign over the other's ravaged carcass at the end of it all.

To think that someone would dash such a simple hope so soon.

Like a jarring voice awakening someone from a pleasurable dream, a grimy hand of a color akin to that of rusted copper reached out and clutched the Nazha's head fiercely. Then, before its sword could even touch the wooden stave, its head popped open like a watermelon, decaying flesh and putrid liquids bursting out from all sides. The hand then slackened, and the body slumped onto the floor, deathly still. A smoke started to erupt, and the carcass started to fizzle and fade from existence, until there was nothing left.

Just like the remains of a broken dream. Nothing to see, to hear, nor to smell to remind one of the loss. Only the fleeting moment that would soon be forgotten.

"What the--"

"Sorry, killer. But I owed him death. Come, we must purge the rest of these creatures."

Before Franklin could continue his exclamation, the strange man left, uttering not another word.

Then the mage started to fume.

HOW DARE THIS MAN?! What right did he have to interrupt such a duel?! Owe it death? Franklin spat on the ground. He had no right to slay the fiend in the name of some petty venegance when a duel was at hand. If anything, that fool ought to have looked for something else to pour his rage unto. For such a misdeed, he thought the man to owe him a favor, and if he didn't pay him back, then..

He'd have to collect the debt himself.

Mind simmering in an uncontrolled stew of rage and hate, Franklin's eyes traced the man's eyes as he changed his attire, taking into keen notice the strange discoloration present throughout his skin.

Well, that's something I wouldn't mind cutting into, he remarked.

Just then, a group of voices, although barely audible, found their way into his ear. They conversed regarding something about grouping up and heading into the forest to chase down what remained of the Nazha. It was far too dangerous to go in alone... Or at least so they thought.
The interceder--Kenet, wasn't it?--joined the group and volunteered his help just then, his voice grating Franklin's ears. Although, as much as it pained him to hear his voice, it wasn't such a bad idea to join such a group. There was safety in numbers after all.

Not that he had any intention of lending a hand to them if ever they needed it. Kenet, most especially.

At that moment, the cripple limped off towards the group, a bit of anger left in his eyes over the incident. With a stern, unwavering voice, he then said (with more than a second-long stare shot at Kenet),

"Well excuse me if I may, but I'd like to join in on this expedition. I'm willing to lend my aid on this particular matter. As long as nobody bursts into a duel between me and some fiend without me calling for it, that is. I'd like to keep the battle private and not have to trouble you with other matters when I can, after all."

< Message edited by blankmaskara -- 2/9/2015 5:47:27 >
Post #: 139
2/14/2015 12:15:40   
TJByrum
Member

The darkness of the forest was soothing to Raze. Eyes closed, the powerful Nazha could feel the magic coursing through the ancient Darkwald; it was ripe with magical power, but would only bend to those who could control it. Failure to harness this power correctly could destroy the wielder, but Raze had ample knowledge to not tamper with such power... not yet. It could very well give him the ability to confront and overtake his own leader, the so-called 'Master'; if his sources were correct, he may even be able to destroy his one true master: Wraith.

He stood just feet away from the altar that sat in the middle of a clearing. The altar itself was just as old an ancient as the trees that surrounded it, and was once used as a focal point for magical energies. Whoever had built the shrine, there intention seemed to be fixated on the idea of focusing the Darkwald's power in a central location. Perhaps they had once tried to harness that power; perhaps they succeeded, or perhaps they were destroyed. Regardless, they had been lost in the annals of history.

The altar was made of stone, hexagonal in shape, and its stone foundation elevated it approximately four feet off the forest floor, roughly eight feet across. On each point, six in total, there were archways which extended from the side of the altar and curled back around so that the point was leaned in towards the center, but point up to the sky. At one side there was a few steps, which is where Raze stood.

Raze's meditation was broken when the sound of a scampering individual broke the eerie silence of the wood. Scrambling out was none other than Ugrul, lapdog of the Master. "Raze! Raze! The Master and the others are inside of the town, I'd expect them to be here soon with the girl within a moment's notice!"

Raze slowly opened his eyes, annoyed at the sudden abruptness of Ugrul. "Very well then, keep watch and do not let anyone near who should not be here. I will prepare the ritual."

Ugurl nodded his head and turned to clamber back into thw od, keeping cover and listening out for anyone unusual sounds. Any intruders who would approach could not hope to bypass the Nazha's focused hearing, not even the most light-footed elf.

Raze himself brought both hands up and began to feed off of the energies in the forest. It accumulated in the palms of his hands and purple, lightning-like orbs began to form, slowly expanding until they were the size of his hands. In a flash Raze sent both orbs hurling to the altar, encasing the ancient outcropping in powerful dark energy. The activated structure began to hum with the power, its stone taking on a purple hue before focusing on each point of the six spikes. Within moments the spikes cast its own purple energies in the center of the altar; the combined power formed an orb of dark matter, levitating in the center of the altar. It took some focus but Raze was powerful enough to withstand the physical and mental fortitude required to maintain the phenomenon.

A loud screech sounded throughout the air as the Master descended into the forest, his clawed hands clutching the young girl, one of them covering her mouth. His dark wings shrunk until they were gone completely, and his dark robes waved in the light breeze. He shoved Lily forward and then brought up his foot to kick her even farther, causing her to land on her hands and knees before Raze. Raze responded by activating two powerful spells: one to bind her legs and arms, and another to bind her mouth. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Let's get on with this, Raze, I don't want to stay here anymore than we need to," the Master urged him. A swarm of bats landed in the clearing as well before materializing into a single being: Sakolmir. [b] "I'm surprised to see you here, Sakolmir. I didn't think you'd hold out against those odds," the Master mocked.

"Save it! Just finish this, I've had enough of the urchins who live here! Besides, at least I did last! I don't think Gorst, Frail, Wretch, Pharaoh, Lamentor, Jagger, or Orpheus were as lucky. Ripper should be on his way."

The Master shook his head, "those losses will not matter soon. Out lord is about to return..."

The discussion was stopped appropriately, as Raze's concentration had expanded the purple orb so much that it encompassed the entire altar. It then flattened into a disc-like opening... a portal! Stepping out of the portal was none other than the all-powerful lord of the Nazha: Wraith. As tall as a giant, as powerful as a demi-god, and wearing armor that seemed to forged from the very pits of hell itself, the great being emanated with unbelievable magic. His obsidian armor, outlined with a pulsing crimson red, hid his true figure. The three Nazha in the clearing bowed down on their knees, while the bound and frightened Lily looked on with horror.

"You have done well in your mission, even if it has been delayed!" Wraith took a single step off forward before raising his hand and casting his magic, causing Lily to rise in the air and come closer to him. "And now, an untainted virgin of the Valgard blood is mine! Soon, we shall be victorious!"

Hopefully someone could get there in time...
DF AQW  Post #: 140
2/16/2015 19:14:40   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 “As you wish. My eyes and ears are better than yours. Stay behind me, move carefully, and tie down your equipment so it does not rattle. We move fast and quiet. Should we find the darkspawn, we learn what we can of them, their lair, and their goals, then we return and fetch the others. We will take the girl back if we have a chance, but it may be better to draw back and let them rest thinking themselves secure.”

Sera quirked a brow at the command from the half-Elf. This wasn't her first time tracking someone, and her equipment had already been tied down.

But perhaps being tied down to be unheard by humans wasn't enough? Marietta's ears being better than hers was a given, after all. Perhaps the Nazha had similar senses. Readjusting the ties, she secured them more tightly than she typically did without argument, not wanting to argue anymore than the ranger did. It was a waste of time. And Sera hated wasting time. The tighter knots would be slightly more difficult to undo later, but that was a problem for later.

She took a brief moment to make sure that she could still draw her weapons quickly if needed, grateful yet again that she had spent the extra money to find sheaths for her blades that were near silent. She could draw her blades without the sharp ring that accompanied most swords being drawn. Weapons secure, she nodded at Marietta.

"Ready when you are," she said quietly, barely able to hear herself but confident that the woman's better hearing would pick up her words easily. A small part of her was almost looking forward to this. It had been a long time since she'd tracked a bounty down with another at her side. That part of her was quickly killed. This was a temporary alliance for convenience of both of them as well as Sera's refusal to simply let someone she was working with go alone into danger and the strong possibility of dying. It reflected poorly on her when allies died. Made her look sloppy.

She wasn't thrilled about being put in the position of follower, but she had offered her aid to the ranger, not the other way around. And it was more likely than she cared to admit that she wouldn't be able to follow the blood trail as well as Marietta. She could swallow her pride and follow the woman's lead for the sake of the job.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 141
2/17/2015 21:33:46   
Draycos777
Member

Although Toren's new appearance came as quite an eye-turner, however, he didn't give the group much time to speak on the subject.

"I'm pretty sure Marietta and Sera are going to need help,"

Saying these words to the group that had offered their help in fighting the Nazha, he turned and walked towards the forest in the direction of the half-elf and bounty hunter.

Kitsondra raised an eye-brow to the back of the former Nazha, suppressing a smile.

"Kahaha! Looks like my intuition was correct. This will be interesting!"

Closing her eyes, Kitsondra took in the smells of magic in the forest. Removing the smell of those nearby her, as well as the new sooty smell coming off of Toren, which caused her nose to curl at a little, Kitsondra closed in on the magic of the Nazha. A new one had magic so vast that it hit Kitsondra's mind in waves. At the same time, the magic of the forest was being drained as well.

I see so that must be their so-called 'Nazha Lord' huh? Though I must say, using the magic of the forest is a little unstable even if it is a large enough power source to bring forth such a creature.

Well first things are first, and Kitsondra's top priorities were the protection of her less then battle-harden apprentice. While the girl was indeed witty, Kitsondra knew that wit could only go so far in this next fight. Second was to remove the one who was casting the ritual that was keeping open what ever brought their newest enemy here. Lastly, Kitsondra needed to save the girl as she said she would. Turning to the others, she let them know,of her decision on the matter at hand.

"Seeing as how most of us are here now, I believe that it is best that we move now. The Nazha have already begun their ritual and every second we waste here gives them another second to finish the reason they attacked us to begin with."

She omitted the part about the large power in the forest. Better if she didn't scary them. Kitsondra then turned to Marcelline and spoke then a voice only she would hear.

"It'll be best if you stay behind me. I doubt that any of the others can sense magic not to mention the 'other' might be around these parts." The 'other' was, of course, referring to Istarelle's Demon.

Turning to the forest, Kitsondra waited for the girl to follow behind, then walked towards the immense source of damp magic. However, her path was slightly different. Inside the forest was a non-combatant. obviously a look out then, Kitsondra was going to take out their eyes before attacking.

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 2/18/2015 21:02:46 >
AQ  Post #: 142
2/18/2015 19:26:34   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta caught the faint sound of Sera’s reply, and nodded before continuing along the trail of blood. She was somewhat gratified that the bounty hunter had not wasted valuable time with arguing. The half-elf wanted to concentrate upon the trail, such as it was, and it was not getting any fresher with the passage of the time.

It was not an easy trail to follow. The blood had fallen from the sky, scattering itself over a wide area. Marietta was an adept tracker, but there are few situations that call for following a thin trail of blood drops through a forest in the dead of night, especially with a lack of other markers to go by. There were no footprints, no broken sticks or overturned stones to mark the passage, just dots of black brackish blood widely distributed over leaves and stems.

The hunter moved as fast as she dared, though it was likely slower than either of them wanted. Out in the forest somewhere, the girl was being held by those monsters. Perhaps it was luck, or skill, some divine mercy on the part of whatever god was watching, or some combination of the three, but Marietta led Sera deeper into the forest, and followed the trail true.

She came to a halt suddenly, lifting a hand both to forestall any questions Sera might have had, as well as to get the bounty hunter to stop. The half-elf closed her eyes, focusing on her hearing. Marietta thought she had heard something, a voice, faint with the distance. For a long moment the hunter held her place, still as a statue. Yes, yes, there was a voice, voices actually. She could just pick up the cadence of several different speakers.

Blue eyes opened slowly, glancing in Sera’s direction. Marietta tilted her head towards the voices, pointing at her ear, unsure if the bounty hunter could hear them. Her eyes flicked away, scanning the forest slowly, sweeping through the low hanging boughs as well. It was quiet in the forest, but for the faint, distant murmur of voices. There was not a sound of wildlife to be heard. That was unsurprising to the half-elf. Whatever the darkspawn were, Marietta had no doubt that anything natural would flee before the aura of rot and horror that surrounded them. In the silence there would be less aural cover available for them to use to shield approach.

Shifting carefully, the hunter sidled over to Sera, placing her lips a hairsbreadth from the other woman’s ear. “There is a sentry ahead, somewhere.” Marietta had no proof of this, just a feeling. It would be foolish not to have a lookout, and the Nazha did not strike the hunter as being fools. Arrogant, yes, and prideful, but not foolish. “We continue, slowly. If we are spotted, we hit them hard and fast, and then break for the town.”

The half-elf drew back, checking the arrow on her string for a moment, and then starting forward again, placing each foot with deliberate care as her eyes swept the trees. If there was a sentry, he would be above the forest floor where he could get a better view of the avenues of approach. For her part, Marietta had no intention of running, despite her words to Sera. If they were spotted… Marietta knew that she had no hope of defeating any of the darkspawn alone, much less all of them at once. If it came to it, she would hold them off as best she could while Sera escaped, or trade herself for the girl.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 143
2/19/2015 17:25:43   
TJByrum
Member

While dangerous, it was at least somewhat fortunate for both Marietta and Sera to arrive earlier than the others. Their excellence in stealthy approaches allowed them to close in on Ugrul, who was acting as sentry for Raze's ritual. Ripper had taken an alternate route apparently, and had not yet arrived in the area on his steed. As both huntresses hid beneath the dark canopy, under the cover of nightfall, they would no doubt hear and see the deformed Nazha prowling the grounds.

Ugrul limped around, standing only four feet due to his hunched position. His head was cocked forward, and his arms shook as he held them ahead of him. He made a clicking noise with his tongue and lips, mimicking echolocation. "I smell you," he taunted to the two women, climbing over a fallen log. "You're here... and you stink of filthy nobility..."

Through sheer caution, the two huntresses may make some sort of move on Ugurl and finish him off together... that is, if Ripper did not arrive atop his mighty steed soon.



The demonized warrior who was Toren charged through the forest, clawing the branches and brush out of his way. Caution and stealth was nothing to him - not here and not now. Marietta and Sera had followed the Master's blood trail, and given their training they were the best ones for any sort of stealthy approach. The element of surprise would be a worthy ally in what was to come. Toren didn't bother to look back and see if anyone was following, he merely made his way directly to the Master's location via his magical residue left behind.

That's when he began to take in his new abilities. Everything was... stronger! Not only his physical traits, but his very mind, sight, hearing, and smell! It was such a gift... but at what cost? What did he owe the Dark Lord, Sidonis? He cursed Toric in the back of his mind for not revealing more of this mission, but dismissed it and pressed on.

Finally Toren erupted into the forest clearing, capturing the attention of Raze, Sakolmir, and the Master. But at the top of the ancient altar stood another being, and one Toren wished would not show up: Wraith, his former master.

"Toren!" The great being called out in a fearsome, deep, and horrific voice that pierced the soul, turning his attention away from Lily and focusing entirely on the 'traitor'. "I was wondering if you'd ever show your face again! Where has your cowardice kept you this time, I wonder?" Ignoring Lily for now, Wraith began to empower the Master and Sakolmir with reserved energies form beyond the void.

For a moment Lily would be safe. Toren had the attention of Wraith, now he just needed to subdue him with the others help, and rescue Lily in the process. Fortunately, Wraith only existed in a metaphysical form, so if Raze could be preoccupied the spell that bound Lily and kept Wraith in this plane of existence may break. Chances were Wraith may not even be able to move in for an attack. The Nazha did not hesitate to move into position as the Master and Sakolmir moved to defend Raze, strengthened by the aura of Wraith.

Bringing up his own sword, which had to been mutilated beyond recognition by Sidonis' dark power, Toren charged forward and began fighting the two Nazha alone. He hoped the others would arrive soon, and he would hope the timely surprise attack by Marietta and Sera could give them an edge.
DF AQW  Post #: 144
2/21/2015 11:58:38   
Draycos777
Member

Walking through the forest at a brisk pace, with Marcelline in tow, Kitsondra disregarded stealth for speed. Some might have called it foolhardy, however, Kitsondra believed it was the right choice of action. If it was the Nazha, then surely their lookout would have some kind of magic to detect enemies even if they were as quiet as a fallen leaf. Stopping to find out where everyone was one more, Kitsondra realized that she was just one moment to late. Marietta and Sera were already beginning to engage the lookout, while Toren was fighting at the ritual site. She also noticed that a certain annoying witch-hunter was following her and Marcelline.

Kitsondra sighed and told the girl beside her the change in plan. "It seems as though Marietta and Sera have gotten to the Nazha's lookout before us, so we shall help Toren in saving Lily. By which I mean we shall take down the ritual that the Nazha are preforming. Is Toren distracts the enemy from the front, we shall come around from behind."

After saying such, Kitsondra held her right hand out, slightly in front of her, and used a spell. [Summon Familiar], a spell only capable to pure-blood noble vampires. She herself was only capable of using it once she obtained noble rank and went through an old vampiric ritual. Each noble family has their own familiar and Kitsondra's was a shadow fox. Although it is a fox, one could easily mistake it for a wolf due to it's size. It's fur was pitch black and burned around the edge of it's tail and feet like fire, while it's eyes were a cat-like yellow.

"Stay hidden and wait for the opportunity to strike."

Understanding it's master's thoughts and receiving the order, the fox melted into the shadows of the forest, thus showing the young girl one of Kitsondra's many secrets to collecting information. After this the group of two, plus one straggler made their way around the back of Toren's fight.



As The Master and Sakolmir fended off Toren's attacks from Raze, the Nazha continued with the ritual. Maybe it was because he didn't need to focus on the spell so much now so he could pay attention to his natural foresight, or maybe it was the Nazha Lord's power warning him. Either way, Raze could feel a slight sensation on the back of his neck telling him to move. Paying it heed, Raze moved away from his current spot just in time, as he saw a claw, no, a guantlet'd hand fading through the darkness of the forest and tearing it's way to him just missing it's mark.

"Hoh? To dodge that while maintaining that spell... maybe your foresight is better than the others?"

Crimson eyes sudden greeted Raze as the figure of a woman between twenty to twenty-five slowly came into view. Next to her was a young girl in a nun outfit. The woman spoke once more, a confident smile, one that could rival the Nazha, spread on her face.

"I sense that you are the strongest here when it comes to magic. A shame really. I would have loved to test your strength, but unfortunately I don't have the time right now, and since you would rather kill yourselves off then be captured theres only one outcome that can come from this fight." A tinge of bitterness colored Kitsondra voice when she mentioned Gorst's death, but quickly disappeared.

"Let's end this quickly, so I can save the girl, shall we?"
AQ  Post #: 145
2/22/2015 12:08:44   
black knight 1234567
Member

"As for you. If you are going to threaten somebody's life, then you should at least do it when you can back up that claim. We both know that you used to much of your magic with that last attack. Do you plan on attacking me with just your sword?" "We both know how that turned out. As it stands I could take your life with just this parasol."

The smack talking hunter was about to reply when a cloud of dust was thrown in his direction, quickly he held his hand up to block the sand, but it wasn't long that he felt the blunt side of an umbrella hit against his neck, the blunt force forced him unto the ground, before the bluntness was replaced with the sharp, pointed tip.

"Let me be frank with you. I hate your kind. You think that just because you've killed some high-ranking monsters that your untouchable and every magical being should fear you. I bet you no different either. You fell so easily to my trick that neither Marcelline or I had to lift a finger to kill the Nazha. You did it all on your own and wasted all of your magic in the process, along with your second chance of killing me tonight. Do you honestly believe that you should have the gall of threatening me right now? As of right now, Lilly, the girl is in danger and Toren is nowhere to be found, therefore, the contract that you placed upon yourself is still in affect. I suggest you decide who your enemy is right now."
The vampire was steeped in anger and it was obvious, but Sorlan wouldn't hold back.

''That's an awful lot of projection, if you ask me.''
''What is it with you freaks of nature? there is a reason you're hunted down. You're a threat to everything you touch, most of you are failures, a shame to your society and thus you hide behind your thirst for blood and fangs. But you know the funny part? I don't really care. I'm just the middle men, I bring your head so some prancy noble can hang it by the door and I receive a big wad of cash for it. Every movement you make I study, all of it will be used against you the day I push a stake in your heart.''
Sorlan slowly rose up to his feet, before turning around to face the vampire slayer, he lightly pushed the umbrella aside as he looked towards the entrance to Blackwater.

''But you are right about one thing. I am still in contract and we need to eliminate the dark forces that brew here.''
But the two women paid him little to no acknowledgement as they made their way towards the forest, and after regaining his strength Sorlan intended to follow them aswell. He kept a good distance away and instead of opting for their pace, he decided to keep a lower profile and carefully traverse the forest, making slight dash from tree to tree, they finally arrived upon the ritual site the Nazha were using. He decided to climb upon the nearest tree to survey the scene, leaning against the gap he was inside. He saw Kitsondra unleash another burst of magic, this time pulling a canine from thin air, as she sent it on its way. Now the grand picture was laid infront of him. There he was, Toren fighting a hellish looking creature of sorts. His armor black and crimson red, almost as if it was formed from molten fire and lava, while a spell was being amassed by another Nazha, the information broker and the school girl made their way towards the encampment, most likely planning on confronting the darkspawn.

While the vampire was of considerable power and rank, and the girl was resourceful herself, three Nazha were too much to handle for anyone.
He swiftly made his way down as he rushed to the scene, sword drawn out, coldly he stated:
''Take care of the conjurer of dark, i'll distract the other two.'' he started circling his enemies.....

< Message edited by black knight 1234567 -- 2/24/2015 10:06:30 >
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 146
2/25/2015 18:49:05   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Marietta held still, taking but the shallowest of breaths. Just a little behind her and to the side, Sera waited. The hunter was surprised, hearing someone or something approaching through the undergrowth. Surely the darkspawn had a sentry in the trees. Even if they did not, whoever was moving vaguely in their direction was no skill woodsman. The crashing through the undergrowth attested to that. Was the approaching Nazha a distraction?

The half-elf, try as she might, could see no other sentry or watcher. Perhaps the darkspawn were simply that confident, or perhaps they were stretched for personnel after the fight in town, for all that it had, from what Marietta saw, been going to their favor. She thought swiftly, and then shifted next to Sera again. “Hold here, count to thirty, and then move towards him. I’ll circle. Let him spot you, and move to engage. I will put him down before he can call out.”

She drew back, inclining her head to the bounty hunter silently, and then slipping away. The hunter stalked to the left, placing each foot with care, while her fingers lightly clasped the bow and arrow in her hands. While moving, the half-elf kept a slow count in her head, hoping that Sera would keep her own count at a similar pace. There had been no time for that talk though, and Marietta grimaced slightly as the darkspawn’s voice slipped tauntingly through the trees.

For her part, the hunter made to answer, trusting that Sera, who had so far shown herself agreeable to Marietta’s orders, would execute her part. The half-elf reached thirty and stopped, leaving her bow down, the arrow not fully drawn. The creaking of the stave would give away her position to the Nazha, and she wanted to give the beast as little warning as possible before she fired.

In the distance, her keen ears picked up the sounds of combat. Perhaps the others had come. If so, it was quicker than she had reckoned, and there might yet be hope. Hope was such a fragile bloom… Marietta pushed the thought aside, focusing on the matter at hand.

Now it was time for Sera to do her part.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 147
2/25/2015 19:48:11   
  Gingkage
Wolf Rider


 “Hold here, count to thirty, and then move towards him. I’ll circle. Let him spot you, and move to engage. I will put him down before he can call out.”

Sera didn't have time to so much as nod in acknowledgment of Marietta's plan before the half-elf was moving.

One.

Shift your stance. Thirty seconds is a long time, and at the same time nothing at all.

Two.

Balance is better, now one more ready to fight as well as avoid being hit. She tracked the ranger with her eyes as she kept up a slow and steady timer.

Five.

A hand dropped down to the hilt of her sword. She was down on throwing knives and didn't want to use them in a place like this with such low visibility. Slowly, she drew her sword, blade making not even a whisper of sound as she did.

Fifteen.

Nearly there. Sera tensed, ready to move.

Twenty-five.

Nearly time. Hold a moment longer. Don't rise to that thing's taunts. The count isn't over yet.

Twenty-eight.

Breath in.

Twenty-nine.

Breath out.

Thirty.

Sera's eyes found her target and she moved, not bothering with a battle cry of any sort, barely keeping in mind to keep an eye out for Marietta and whatever offense she would land as well. Her mind was fully on the dance she had engaged in.

This one was a brute. Stronger than the others. But she was faster, and lighter on her feet. Left. Left again. Right. Duck and come up thrusting. Back! The movements were automatic, being made almost before Sera was able to realize she had even moved.

She had played her part. Now it was the ranger's move.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 148
2/26/2015 19:16:39   
TJByrum
Member

Raze's concentration was disturbed by the sudden attack made by the Queen of Illusions. She then taunted Raze into a fight, but he resisted. Raze was intelligent, and would not fall easily. He would not be taunted. Nevertheless, he invited the confrontation if it came to it. Kit's undead blood would make for a fine ingredient. Raze allowed one hand to keep Wraith and his dimensional portal open and used his other to produce a magical barrier around his person that would not only deflect attacks made by his enemies, but drain them of their magical ability.



Sparks lit the darkness as Toren deflected the blows of the Nazha. Every ounce of strength in his body slammed down on their blades, but it could not break their defenses - not with the Wraith Lord himself here. But that's when Toren caught sight of Sorlan's sudden arrival. His allies had stayed true to their word and was here to help! Sorlan circled around the Master and Sakolmir, and as long as Toren could keep them occupied perhaps Sorlan could make a surprise attack on them - or take the opportunity to retrieve Lily.



Ugrul drew closer and closer to the huntresses locations, but failed to acknowledge the movements of Marietta. He listened and caught a faint sound made by the elf's light scampering. But Marietta would be the least of his problems, as Sera had suddenly exposed herself and charged right for Ugrul. Ugrul slid his fist into a make-shift gauntlet strung on his robe, gripping the handle inside. The gauntlet covered his entire fist and was adorned with wicked spikes he could use to puncture his opponents with. Then again, Ugrul wasn't meant for combat; the gauntlet was only a distraction, or a 'plan B'.

Ripper, however, was meant for combat. Drawing closer on his black steed, Ugrul would try to fend off the huntresses until Ripper arrived and take them on himself.
DF AQW  Post #: 149
2/28/2015 13:02:01   
Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer


 Unfamiliarity with one’s companions was an archer’s bane. Marietta had fought and trained with her friends for years, had known them even longer. More than how they moved and fought, she had known how they thought, the ways in which their minds had moved, how they understood the world and the space they occupied. With… No, her mind shied away from that thought, as it had so many times before. Now was not the time, and those memories cut too deeply.

What mattered was that she had once put an arrow through a bandit’s eye at thirty paces, an exquisitely timed shot that had threaded between two of her friends, passing within a handspan of one’s outstretched arm. There had been some luck in the shot, yes, but more than that there had been knowledge, a careful study over the course of long hours of training and camaraderie that combined with instinct to render an impossible feat a stunning reality.

The half-elf knew little of Sera. They had talked once or twice, but never spent a great deal of time in one another’s company. As such, the hunter had precious little on which to make her judgments: a handful of words, and a careful gaze as the bounty hunter moved to engage the darkspawn.

It was reckless to fire into a melee. Every archer knew that, and even with the Sentinels Marietta had done it rarely, preferring to pick off and harass targets at the edge of a fight. How much more reckless then, to do so when all she had seen of Sera’s fighting style was a few swift moves, when all the half-elf had to go on were a paucity of words backed with the best assumptions she could make?

But perhaps recklessness was precisely what was called for in this situation. The Nazha had proven themselves capable of foreseeing and defeating conventional attacks and tactics, as though they could predict the future. Yet, could they truly see what was to come, or was it simply that the darkspawn, old and malevolent as they were, had simply seen so much that they found it an easy task to guess what their opponents would do? That seemed more likely to Marietta, than that the darkspawn had such power that even the future was laid bare to them. If that was the case, there would have been no battle at the village, for the Nazha could simply have seen what was to come and taken the girl before Toren had made it to Blackwater, or slaughtered the defenders before a defense could even be countenanced.

Yes, perhaps a bit of recklessness was called for. It was a foolish move, and because of that the Nazha might not be prepared for it. The hunter drew, her bow’s creak lost in the clatter of arms as Sera engaged the darkspawn. Marietta held, held…

And there it was, a chance. The bounty hunter thrust, the Nazha rocking back to avoid it. There was no time for thought, and the half-elf fired by instinct, shaft leaping from the string, bound for the darkspawn’s throat.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 150
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