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Lo'el Watching the scene unfold with one eye open, the faun cowers on the ground with with his head clutched in his hands. He closes his eyes as the dragon descends only to reopen them as his ears catch no sounds of screaming and only those of the beast taking to the skies once more. "Is it gone?" he says, coming to stand again and searching the sky around them wildly. "I had never heard of dragons to be so unpredictable, what do you suppose made it change it's mind?" He simply sighs and attempts to catch his breath whilst brushing some clinging corn stalks from his fur. His journal and quills are soon drawn from his bag as he decides to make some quick notes while the experience was still terrifyingly fresh in his mind. quote:~ An encounter with a large black dragon shortly north of the city of Noah. "Perhaps I will be able to provide some truths to these speculations and fabrications when time allows." he says as he writes, tensing his hand to stop it from shaking as he scribbles down the words. "Although I doubt researching dragons will be a particularly safe experience." He stows the journal away and re-gathers his equipment that was dropped in the chaos. "As much as I would like to have the woods to cover us, Sir Martin, I believe that we must follow the road at least to this fork in order to track our foes. And even if we were to take shelter amongst the trees, the woods may hold dangers of their own. Sadly I see no other choice then to simply carry on." He leans slightly on his staff as he continues to collect himself, his eyes and ears fixed on the skies to the north.
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Apr 10, 2012 10:15
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Isit The elf nods at Lo'el and Martin's words. Cover would be good. Anything was better than that dragon at this point. "Let's double time it to those tracks, and pray they head to the woods. Otherwise, as you both said, we're sitting ducks if that beast comes back."
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Apr 10, 2012 16:23
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Martin de Mignolet Spending a moment to recall the map, Martin sighs. "Hmph...yes, I suppose you're right, given the terrain. It's not really all that good for us right now, is it?" He stares off into the distance for a brief moment, almost unconsciously tapping his chin with the fingers of his right hand in an ever-changing rhythm. Finally: "Alright. If we're going to go, let's go now!"
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Apr 10, 2012 20:23
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Lo'el He hefts the spear and staff in his hands and takes one last deep breath to steady his nerves. "Yes." he says after a moment. "Let us move on and find these tracks as quickly as possible. It would be unwise to linger for too long encase the beast decides to return." With that said, he takes lead again and quickens his pace slightly as he continues on through the cornfield, keeping a close eye on the nearby road for the coming fork. If any luck still remained with them, there would be some centaur tracks waiting for them ahead.
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Apr 10, 2012 20:31
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Lette Lette picked herself up and brushed off her garments. At some point her mad dash found her face down in a small ditch. It was quite a bit better an outcome than any she had envisaged. In another small, auspicious twist of fate, the gale-force winds the dragon had generated flattened the corn where they had been gathered; finding her pack was no great effort. "Gla-" her first attempt to speak came out as a barely audible squeak. She cleared her throat. "Glad you're all okay. Even you, Fenton," she cooed, patting the mule on the nose. Addressing the group again, Lette tried in vain to keep the quiver out of her voice. "Let's load him back up, on the quick." She offered Alec a wan smile as he did the same. "Never been so eager to get clear of open lands."
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Apr 11, 2012 04:09
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Isit The elf raises an eyebrow at Lette. "Fenton?" With a faint smile, she checks the mule over. "Yes, well plains are terrible to hide in, and I prefer to stay hidden. A little easier to detect an ambush, but the enemy can usually see you as well as you can see them. Especially if they are a dragon." Giving a rueful laugh, she hitches up her backpack. "In one battle, my detachment was sent to scout enemy lines in cover like this. Nearly a full three days of crawling in the mud wasted when one of us was spotted by a wizard flying overhead. Sent a nasty fireball down that killed half a dozen men. Smelled awful, and the rest of us had to play dead, or lay hidden until he moved on. Singed all my hair off too." Coughing, she shakes her head. "Lets get going. Don't want a repeat of that."
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Apr 11, 2012 04:18
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Lo'el "Fenton. What prompted you to give him that name, Miss Lette?" He slows to give the mule a pat as he passes it and then turns his head to Isit. "You were part of an army Lady Isit? Fascinating. How long for? I hope you do not mind me asking about it, I am told it can be an uncomfortable topic to discuss. Although, it would be nice to hear more tales of them from those who were there, instead of reading about them in books." He scratches his tail with the tip of his staff absent-mindedly as he casts another weary eye to the sky. "The herd's collection of books from beyond our woods is not very extensive at all sadly."
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Apr 11, 2012 21:08
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After a few sheepish minutes checking around to be sure all the packs and possessions have been found, the group is- albeit a little more cautiously, and with half an eye to the blue sky above- back on its way. Fenton seems largely content to plod on at his own pace, with little interest in speeding up or slowing down based on the whims of anyone prodding or coaxing him along. Under the mule's lead, then, the party settles into a mile-eating, time-killing pace as they travel through the fields of grain that once fed a majority of the Empire. The trail, when they find it, is an obvious one; the centaurs trod along the side of the road in the softer dirt right at the edge of the cropland. Along with hoofprints, there's enough cornstalks with traces of horsehair or blood on them that in Alec's expert opinion the trail could be followed by any random city-dwelling child without being too particularly taxed. That being the case, and knowing that the trail largely followed the road, the party was free to linger a ways away from exposure while darting back to the path occasionally to check and be sure that they were still following the centaurs' trail. Morning becomes noon, and afternoon evening, and still the rolling plains unfold. The sun just touches the horizon when the road's fork comes into view- and, just as the city guards said, the easy to follow trail simply stopped abruptly right at the widening of the road that marked the divergence of roads to the northwest (towards Kat's hometown that the refugees had fled form) and northeast (in the rough direction of the mountains, and somewhat nearer the forest Lord Roland had mentioned as a monster hideout.) Impossible to tell- at least in the failing light- what direction their quarry had gone to, there seems little choice but to make rudimentary camp near the fork and pick the trail back up come dawn.
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Apr 12, 2012 00:32
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Isit The elf stares at Lo'el for a moment before shrugging. "Perhaps later." With that, she concentrates on her work before she and the rest head out. Some time later, the group comes to a halt, as the elf glares at the the setting sun. "This will have to do. No sense tracking at night. Let's see about getting a little more off the path, and finding a likely spot. No fires I think, between the smoke, and the chance of setting this entire place on fire, it's best not to chance it. And we should keep as quiet as we can, noise carries around here." Fussing with her pack, she starts to search for her kit. "Maybe not tents either, unless it threatens to rain. And we should take turns with watches as well. I'll set up snares, maybe we can catch something, and chance making a very small, and very banked fire in the morning." Survival Plains 13, Tracking 13 Setting snares, looking for a decent spot to camp that wont flood if rained on.
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Apr 12, 2012 03:04
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Martin de Mignolet "We have got food, if we're worried about noise from hunting," replies Martin softly. "It will not be too fun to eat, I would guess, but we will not need a fire either." Late in the day, and with some cover for their trek, he was in much better spirits, and his voice was upbeat. More to the point, after the dragon incident he was less worried about other possible dangers; some things could not be planned for, so why worry too much? Things would work out in the end. "It may be best if I take the first watch. I am sure we have established I awake slowly, so it might be best this way."
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Apr 12, 2012 03:53
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Isit "Trips like this are what travel rations are for, unfortunately. I even got a few of those dreadful biscuits I had in the army. Not good eating, but it'll do." Pausing, she considers the matter of watches. "Let's spread ourselves out between the young ones. I'll go third, and Lette or Lo'el can go second."
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Apr 12, 2012 04:01
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Dolan After the long walk, Dolan shrugs out of his pack and unceremoniously dumps it on the ground. He unrolls his blanket and then sits on it, opening his logbook and flipping through the pages. "I should have mentioned this earlier," he says quietly without looking up. "It's my own failing that I did not." he turns his gaze up to Lette and Alec, taking them both in. "No magic. Not yet. To the right people, that can be visible from miles off as easily as any fire. We know the centaurs had a magic user with them, and until I know the extent of his abilities we need to be cautious." Leaving it at that, he goes back to his book. quote:34 kernång, 2412 He slips the pencil back in between the pages and turns to some of the earlier pages. None of them mention dragons, but that's no surprise. It would take far too much digging to find anything like that, if it even existed. Besides, by his own admonition he can't check tonight. He closes his book, quietly eats his rations, and tries to sleep. He had something to do, assuming he had a moment uninterrupted this time.
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Apr 12, 2012 06:09
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Lo'el After moving a good distance from the path with the others, he places his bag down on the ground along with his weapons before unrolling his blanket. The large, handwoven blanket had been one of the few gifts given to him when he had left the herd and it was already showing signs of wear and tear from it's numerous uses on the road so far. He takes a seat and moves his bag into a suitable pillow position before whispering to the others. "I will be happy with keeping watch at night, the cold winds will not bother me as much. With so little around us, I am sure that my ears will pick out anything close before it becomes aware of us." The faun then eats his own saved food, trying to peek at Dolan's open book when he thinks the dwarf is not looking, curious to see what the man was writing about so much. Perhaps he was writing stories of his own. The look of concentration on the dwarf's face deters him from asking though, and as Dolan turns to sleep, the faun decides to do the same. "I shall get some sleep now then" he whispers, letting his ears fall to block out the sounds around him. "Wake me when you are ready." He closes his eyes and lets himself drift off. The day had been long, tiring and possibly the most frightening one to date. Sleep would be a welcome respite.
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Apr 12, 2012 10:37
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Lette Lette shrugs in response to questions about the mule's name. "It just seemed to fit. Like I said, a name is important. Makes things significant. Long-lived livestock — cows and such — we'd always name them. Maybe some folks believe differently, but I know from growing up: named ones stayed healthier longer. Happier, too." As they settle into camp, Lette follows the lead of several of her comrades, pulling out her journal and making her briefest entry yet, detailing the encounter with the dragon. In place of an elaborate description, she takes charcoal and sets to work on a rudimentary sketch of the beast, pouring the scene from her memory as best she is able before sleep can begin its work of chipping away at it. In time, she had been taught, the line between dreams and a memories can blur. That's what makes history into mythology. Her ma's da's cousin — according to the family lore — was some kind of scholar who may have suggested that dreams not only muck up the truth of history but, in fact, shape it. Almost like the distant past has no existence independent from dreams. Her ma had said that you'd have to live in a university to cook up a fool notion like that. As others drift off to slumber, Lette continues to sketch. Too focused to sleep just yet, she peers over her notebook and addresses Martin: "Guess we're up first, then." Here's how I'm piecing the schedule together so far, based on what's been said here (and a little IRC clarification): pre:| 1st | 2nd | 3rd Alec | Sleep | Watch | Sleep Dolan | Sleep | Sleep | Watch Isit | Sleep | Sleep | Watch Lette | Watch | Sleep | Sleep Lo'el | Sleep | Watch | Sleep Martin | Watch | Sleep | Sleep Possible relevant stats: Per 13, Survival (plains 13, woodlands 12), Camouflage 12, Traps 11 (I also have rope!) Aeolius fucked around with this message at 16:56 on Apr 12, 2012 |
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Apr 12, 2012 11:17
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Alec Cherusci Alec watches very satisfied as the water skin instantly fills full of water. Having already cast the spell, he nods to Dolan, Son of Gepidi "Yes, this cloak is too hot for a day like this, I will ration the water carefully." Stowing the cloak on the mule, Alec enjoys the fresh air against his hot skin, it was going to be a pleasant walk, though he is not relaxed. His eyes searched the sky and fields as if another dragon would appear at any moment. Alec continued along the way, assuring the others that he was fine. The Frost Wurms had come upon the end of the Age of Darkness, and they had been very ruthless, targeting the outlying farms and cattle. For the town of Cheruscisten, it meant that someone would starve against the onslaught of the Jötunn, the Frost Giants. They could be killed, but many Warriors died trying to stay their insatiable hunger. With a grim determination, he was very aware that the Wurms tended to hunt in the same area time after time, and thus kept one eye on the fields and another in the sky. These Black Wurms were strange, the very sweet woodsy scent had overcome him as the Wurm passed over, something he had never smelled before. It was clear there was something different about this Wurm, Alec did not know what, yet. He spent much of the journey in quiet contemplation watching the fields and skies so the slow march of the day. With a bit of startle, Alec says "Look at this trial, a lad of a few summers could follow it! I wonder why." He let the words trail off, it seemed very odd that the trail be so clearly marked, unless they were expecting them. This could be bad, but there was no way to tell without just moving forward. When they finally reached the fork in the road at dusk, the trail suddenly vanished, giving Alec a strange feeling that he felt before. Why would the trail so suddenly disappear? if they were so wounded to make such a ruckus before why stop now. Alec cast aside the suspicions and instead focused on the task at hand. "Camping now would make sense, though without a fire we might attract many Beasts looking for meat. I will take the Second Night Watch." With that, Alec carefully lowers his pack to the ground and gathers his tent from the mule. He would use the packed tent to prop some of the bedding he would gather to give him a place to sit. First Alec checks slowly for any animal burrows or insect mounts moving the corn husks with his spear. Satisfied with his spot he starts gathering what he can giving his bedding some extra padding and camouflage. Alec takes a quick bite to eat and finishes the rations with a mouthful of water. The cured meat and hard bread go down rather harshly, but fill his stomach adequately. While eating he lines up his equipment as he always does to make sure should he need to grab them they will be within arms reach. "I will see you this early morrow." Alec lays down in bed and slowly goes to sleep in the darkening dusk. using Camo (10) on my bed and pack stuffs, to try to avoid getting ganked, Survival(woodlands) 10 to set everything up if needed.
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Apr 12, 2012 16:35
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The group makes their nighttime preparations, and quickly after a hard day of work following their trail the fatigue is such that those lucky enough to sleep first are out cold in seconds. Martin and Lette, however much they may wish they can join them, are forced to remain awake as the sun slips below the horizon and brings night to the plains. Soon enough, the stars come out, seemingly so numerous and brilliant that there shouldn't be any problem reading by their light... but only a thin crescent moon to the south gives any light at all, and that paltry. There'd be no way at all to see anyone sneaking up on them; sound and smell it would have to be, all the while trying to keep their weary minds from falling asleep in turn. A difficult job, and thankless- though those who have the other watches are sure enough to have their own issues with trying to wake and remain awake for their own. Still, the cool air does feel pleasant after a warm, sweaty day; Fenton contents himself with chewing a few more cornstalks down to nubs and then bedding down himself not very far from his temporary human masters. Once the nonchalant mule is asleep, there's few other noises to liven the sensory deprivation, as none seem to come to behead the party in their sleep. Faint birdsong from the trail provides if anything a useful jolt to the ears to remind them to be paying attention. The few lonely birds trill a few deep lines of song before falling silent to tend to their own sleep, leaving Martin and Lette once more alone at night. --- Isit comes to amidst a sight she's seen and heard about many times. It is the part of war that makes veterans laugh at young, eager turks- the aftermath. A full moon shines down, providing enough illumination of a field whose grass seems red from all the bloodshed for the elf to be able to easily see the bodies strewn around with various open wounds. There is no life on this field. It's been abandoned to the dead, with even the dying no longer present. In the distance, a lone hill gleams- metal arms and armor so thickly strewn that the entire hill seems to have been plated in steel, glimmering in the moonlight like a horrible and terrifying jewel. None of the bodies stir. It's a desolate scene, and the archer is abandoned and alone inside it. It feels real, more real than all but the worst of the nightmares she's used to- but nothing comes out to threaten her, or even feels... wrong. There's a placid peace about the battlefield, not the frenetic tension of a trap to be sprung. Instead, it's all calm in a way that would be soothing were it not for the smells of early decay spread all around. There was a battle here, and by the size of the remnants it was either Isit's dream conjuring some fantastic speculation or the battle that ended the Empire in a few hours of brother-on-brother massacre. It could be no other in history. The stillness, then, is broken by a single low, reedy moan from the ground behind Isit. --- The other three, Dolan, Lo'el, and Alec, are roused to wakefulness by a breeze- but when they stand, that they're not where they used to be is apparent. The full moon hangs overhead, but all the colors of the cornfield and world are washed out into shades of gray; the world seems flatter, almost as though it were a painting that stretched around them with all the figures merely cutouts arranged in space rather than solid objects. The two who remained awake to watch are no longer present, nor is Isit anywhere to be found. The air's bitterly cold, far more than it should be, made worse by the nudity of Alec and Lo'el as even the faintest breeze bites its way into their flesh. Dolan, however... from the neck down, covering all his arms, legs, and extremities, is swathed in what seems to be a formless pink mist that just barely obscures and shields the flesh beneath; small fingers of mist extend up his neck to his jawline, but no further. The dwarf, for his own part, feels none of the cold the others do; rather he is completely comfortable in the strange landscape. Far off, a single wolf howls.
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Apr 13, 2012 02:14
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Isit The ruin of battle was familiar to her, and indeed, this one didn't raise a chill as much as a sense of familiarity. It was almost comfortable. Probably a dream, but perhaps she had come to after the fight, somehow miraculously spared. But the quiet disturbed her. That was out of place. There should be screaming, and faint movement, at the very least. Not to mention the surge of scavengers after a good battle. Usually the littlest squires and helpers, along with the walking wounded would be picking through this place, occasionally stopping to slit the neck of a man dying badly. Lost in her thoughts for a moment, she startles, spins around, and leaps back a few feet upon hearing the moan. Stooping down slightly, she looks about, dearly wishing she had a living companion about. "loving hell, is someone alive?"
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Apr 13, 2012 02:27
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Dolan Dolan stirs slowly as he is woken for his watch, having a bit of difficulty believing that it was already time. He had not dreamt, not in the least, which even normally would be quite strange, but especially with the presence. The thought of that presence brings him wholly awake. Or whatever "awake" passes for. It had kidnapped him again, brought him somewhere he did not immediately recognize, and left him naked but for a thin cloud surrounding his body. Movement causes him to turn, hands raised and ready to fight. The sight of the others is not what he expected. Cautiously, he approaches them, seeing that they too have been stripped of arms and armaments, and left even without some misty covering. "Faun, northman, get up." He looks around, taking in the strange landscape again. This was certainly not the same realm they had gone to sleep in. "I think there may be a problem."
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Apr 13, 2012 02:38
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Isit's response is another low, weak moan; behind her, as she turns, there's a man with mortal wounds laying on the ground. There's a vicious cut across his face, ruining an eye, and another matching wound across his belly; that he hasn't bled out yet is a small miracle, given how much blood's around him there can't be much left inside the body. He stares with his one good eye at Isit, gaze clouded with pain. He tries to speak, but instead can only gurgle. Overhead, crows begin to circle, finally getting in line for their share of the spoils.
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Apr 13, 2012 02:42
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Isit Kneeling down, Isit reaches for her dagger. She knew what had to be done, and had done it before. Still, she never forgot a one, and they often played starring roles in her nightmare. Letting the man die on his own might help with the nightmares, but wouldn't be right. As if right had anything to do with a dying soldier. Stroking the cheek that isn't torn up, she whispers to the man. "Hush now, close your eyes and rest. Everything will be fine, just rest now." She would wait for the man to close his eyes before slitting his neck. Luckily for him, she had practice.
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Apr 13, 2012 02:56
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Lette The fading light forced her to surrender her efforts, barely half finished. She folded her journal, felt around for her pack, and replaced it. The susurrus of her comrades' sleeping breaths gradually blended in with the other faint noises of the night. Distant birdsong, sparse cricket chirps, the breeze through the flora; it was all one continuous song — one she associated with bedsheets, perhaps the instrument whose absence was felt most acutely. Her gaze gradually drifted up to the endless sea of stars, glittering like bubbles in the deep that somehow catch light too faint for the naked eye and transform, exalt it; delicate and elusive, but still as brilliant as any gem. And there, among them, were the familiar shapes and patterns that she had seen so many nights before. The heavens had a certain comforting fixity to them; no matter how significant the events befalling those lowly creatures of the land, they remain impassive, carrying on their celestial course, set in motion by nothing she could guess at. "Hey," she whispers. "Mr. de Mignolet, are you still awake?" She squinted, barely able to see his eyes from across their tiny encampment. "Good summer sky tonight. Hardly a cloud." She turned back to the sky, idly tracing constellations she recognized with her fingertip.
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Apr 13, 2012 03:14
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Alec Cherusci His eyes opened to the cold flatness of this strange place, far from the warm Halls of his home. Without a moment hesitation he reaches for his weapon that is no longer there, and curses in his coarse lyrical tongue. He looks around starting to shiver slightly but not complaining, he was not immune to the cold nor did he seek it, but he was rather familiar with it. Alec finally shrugged and got to his feet unashamed. "Something is not right here, no?" Starting to shiver Alec looks around, practical first for something to use as clothing, he notices that Lor'El shares his same fate but with the benefit of having fur to cover his lower half, and at least a modicum of decency. "Where are the others, any sign of them? If we were moved here, the host could at least provide for their guest properly." If this was an invitation somewhere, Alec hoped that it did not come at the price of his companions lives... except maybe the mule, the mule was too useless against the Wurm, it could have gotten them killed.
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Apr 13, 2012 03:17
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Isit, knowing that she had a duty to administer the final mercy to a fellow soldier, soothes the grievously wounded man into a stupor. He's not bleeding anymore, despite having multiple wounds gaping- were it not for the fact that he was still somehow breathing, the elf would swear the man already dead. One of the crows flutters down, landing just out of arm's reach and staring at Isit with large, knowing eyes. The elf draws her blade across the wounded man's throat- but no blood comes from his warm flesh, and instead only draws a weak keening from his ravaged lungs. A flutter, a sudden sensation of warmth, and then with the loud bustle of flapping wings another crow lands on Isit's shoulder. Good instinct. A young, female voice tersely notes, words forming in Isit's head. But not enough, not in this realm. You can't just use a physical blade to release a suffering spirit. His body is gone- the spirit is simply lingering. Release him- but use your mind, not your hands.
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Apr 13, 2012 03:23
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Dolan "I have not seen them," Dolan answers. He looks around again, still seeing nothing that indicates where they might be, or which direction they came from. Of course, it was very likely that they didn't come here from any particular direction. Grumbling, he kneels in the dirt and begins to Draw, then stops. If this were a dream, a Seeker rune would do nothing. It could even have a completely different effect than he expected here. Runic research had always depended on the constancy of the world they were in. Here, where the rules were different... He wipes out the rune, then stands. "We probably shouldn't stay in one place too long. It sounds like we might have predators roaming around."
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Apr 13, 2012 03:31
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Alec Cherusci Alec shrugs and simply says "If we are being hunted then getting lost will only make us fall into their wolfen traps. It would be better to either hide or fight." With a chatter of his teeth he continues, "Besides without some covering, I will not make it more than a day if I am lucky." There is very little here that is good, if they are being hunted Alec thought, we are the easiest prey. If not, simply a neglectful host? If so, Alec would gladly pay for his clothes and meal with a song. He doubted anyone here would know the true way to greet a traveler into their home. Axe-man fucked around with this message at 03:41 on Apr 13, 2012 |
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Apr 13, 2012 03:39
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Isit She starts at the bird, torn between the suffering man, and the novelty of a bird talking to hoer. The creature clearly knew what it was talking about, because the soldier wouldn't die, and was just in worse pain. She opens her mouth to speak, but shakes her head. Time she took talking would just prolong the man's suffering. Gripping her dagger, she stares at the man, imagining a knife cutting his soul free from it's flesh, free from the blood around him, and free from the battlefield. Imagining the ties severing, she grips the weapon tighter still. "Go now....please... It will stop."
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Apr 13, 2012 03:41
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Another crow flaps down, landing on Isit's other shoulder with a soft caw. That's right. Focus. The voice urges. Here, in this world, your will's a sharper knife than anything you brought with you. Learn to use it. This poor soul didn't. The last few words carried a trace of sadness, as one of the crows half-flapped its wings as it tried to keep balance on the shifting soldier. Isit bore down and focused; trying to visualize what she was doing, she cut again with the knife- but this time, the blade passes uselessly through the flesh. Instead, the elf can feel something snag on something deeper, inside the man; he jerks at the touch. Pushing, seeing the cords cut in her mind before it actually happens, Isit severs the spirit from the mortally wounded body. There's a breath, and the wounded soldier sags; for an instant Isit can feel the spirit streaming past her face and bringing all her nerves to tingling as though brushed with a light feather. Congratulations. The voice observes, as another pair of crows flutter down to land on the dead man's chest. You've just killed someone for the first time. My condolences.
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Apr 13, 2012 04:46
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Isit Hands shaking, Isit sits back and stares at the man for a moment. He had been dead already, and suffered here for years. Likely would have driven her mad. Probably had driven him out of his mind a while ago. Wiping her knife out of habit, she puts it away, and remains quiet for a moment more before speaking. "What do you mean? I've killed dozens before, why would a ghost be different.....wait, did I just snuff him out entirely? Is that it?" Craning her neck, she looks from bird to bird. Biting her lip, she shudders, the situation having become quite clearer. Dream or not, she knew very well the sort of reach the dead could have. "Are you Vuoksi then?" NoControl fucked around with this message at 06:19 on Apr 13, 2012 |
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Apr 13, 2012 05:08
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Martin de Mignolet After a moment, Martin finally responds softly. "Hm? Yes, I am awake, m'lady. Just...listening." Were there more light, it would be obvious that he was staring off into the distance quite blankly. "Not that there is much to listen to," he noted dryly. There was something comforting about the quiet, at any rate - it meant that there was nothing to worry about at the moment, and if there was nothing to worry about then everything was well. He didn't like hiding out here in the middle of nowhere; much easier to be inconspicuous and not have to worry where there were more people around. Here, he felt exposed and without refuge if things went sour. As outwardly as he tried to show himself as in control - especially when there was battle - he felt out of control here. There was only waiting and silence. Martin remains wordless for a moment or two more. Then: "It is a splendid night. Cool, and a good sky like you said. But..." In the near-darkness, it is almost possible to see him gesture as he struggles for words. "Everything just seems...odd, here. Maybe it's just been a long day and I am ill at ease. This whole place sets me so, though. Whole world does, really. The world was simpler when I was younger - I knew who to set my blade against and why. Today? Dragons. Bloody hell," he grumbled quietly in closing.
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Apr 13, 2012 06:12
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Lo'el The faun stirs on the ground before the bitter wind and Dolan's words to rise cause him to begrudgingly stand up. The sensation that something is off becomes all too apparent as he stares around the grey, flat and unknown land that he finds himself in. "W-what is this?" he says, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he blinks in a hope that the land would somehow set itself back to normal. "Is this magic or something far more sinister?" He scrambles for a weapon that is no longer there and then spins around, thankful to see Dolan and Alec with him despite their strange clothing, or lack thereof. The strange pink mist covering Dolan is a more then welcome distraction from Alec's shame, his own cheeks burning red in embarrassment for the northerner. His own lack of armor and clothing is surprising but not much of a problem. The herd walked around in as much during the warmer seasons, but a blanket or cape to keep the current cold winds off his flesh would be welcome. "The others are not here? What a bizarre land. I suppose we must be dreaming, or something close to it. Sir Dolan, what is that..thing..enveloping you? Maybe-" His worried ramblings are cut short as his ears catch the wolf's howl in the distance. "Did you hear that? A wolf, seems far off though. Perhaps we should move on and see if there is a reason for our being here." Shivering slightly, he unties the knot keeping his long, scruffy hair tied back and lets it fall. It was not much, but at least it would keep his head and shoulders slightly warmer. Taking a small risk, the faun cups his hands over his mouth and calls out in a voice not much louder then his usual one; "Hello? If anyone is out there, please make yourself known to us."
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Apr 13, 2012 10:39
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The birds burst into brief snatches of song again as Lette and Martin converse in hushed tones. Perhaps for the same reasons- or perhaps just mimicing the other sounds they can barely hear. The cool stars shine down, and the moon casts just enough light to see Alec start to shiver in the nighttime chill despite his bedding. Clear night- no sign of the clouds that had loomed the prior morning, or of the storm they'd threatened, but the weather was a fickle thing on the plains. Hard to be sure what it would do even without a capricious god directing it. There's a very, very faint howl of a wolf in the far distance- miles and miles away, nowhere near close enough to be worried. --- Not quite-. The voice adds, before another half dozen birds swirl down from the sky, landing on the deceased's corpse. There's an instant of disorientation, as Isit's stomach tries to turn ninety degrees inside her body, and then standing on the other side of the dead man is a young woman, around Lette's age; black hair, eyes dark enough brown to look back, and a pair of giant crow's wings folding behind her back. "But yes, I'm Vuoksi. Pleased to meet you- Isit, is it?" The goddess gives a very small chuckle at the tired joke, but doesn't have any twinkle of pleasure in her eyes as she does. She reaches down and straightens the fairly plain brown cloth tunic and trousers, looking around the battlefield. "All you ever did was damage people's bodies beyond repair. What you did right then was to actually kill someone instead of simply summoning me to do it for you. Few do it, and most who do aren't particularly pleasant people. Now... what are you doing here? I was called here by this man, though I wasted a few seconds looking over the actual battlefield over in the waking world." From the tone of her voice, a few seconds' delay was both unusual and irritating. "Not many people die on this side after this last year. Unusual to find someone else in a dying man's dream, though- did you know him?" --- The wolf howls again, closer this time. Still only one throat, though. That seems to be the only response the faun receives, until overhead a pearly colored translucent dragon glides with barely-flapping wings a few dozen yards overhead. It's looking at them- and certainly appears to be the same dragon that had stalked them earlier in the day. A rustle of hoofbeats comes from behind them, approaches closer... and fades out before reaching them. The corn doesn't rustle, even when there's a breeze, adding to the unnatural feel of this place; the ground is hard, not soft like dirt. There aren't any stars, the field looks the same in all directions, there's no smell- no smells at all. The more the dreamers' senses adjust, the more alien and half-formed the dream seems.
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Apr 13, 2012 15:09
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Lo'el He jumps slightly as the wolf howls again, sounding closer then it had moments before. A look of confusion with a hint of fear is etched into his face as he starts rubbing his arms to keep warm. "The corn does not move, nor can I feel a breeze. How is it so bitter cold?" He twists quickly and backs up a few paces as the sound of beating hooves approaches, the lack of any bodies to accompany the sound adds further to his confusion before the approaching sound disappears completely. "It seems we are being teased or tested. Either way, we should seek to leave this place somehow" A flicker of movement from the corner of his eye causes a startled intake of breath. "Is that the dragon from before?" His eyes drift upwards to the sky to follow the familiar flying beast, thankfully it seemed more content to keep to the skies for now, despite it's lingering gaze on them. "A wolf, a dragon and invisible hoofed-beasts. Even if we are to move on, I would suspect that these phantoms, if they can be called such things, will simply follow us." The young faun gives a worried look to his companions for any sign of guidance. "As far as I can see, we are simply at the mercy of whatever being sought to bring us here."
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Apr 13, 2012 15:47
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Alec Cherusci Alec shakes his head, "Well, I guess calling for them has not shown them to appear." He looks up and sees the Wurm dropping to his combat stance, his hand pulls over his scarred arms and chest and reaches for his weapon and... there is nothing there but a small scar from a wolf. "Skítur, Lor'El and Dolan, it appears we die in this strange prison... mostly naked. It has been an honor fighting with you." He looks around and looks to find himself some clothing or something to at least give him some warmth. He listens to Lor'El and nods "Yes, there is something strange with these stalks of corn. I wonder if they would do as proper clothing as it is very cold to be standing out like this." Alec appears unconcerned with that Wurm nor the approaching wolfs, if he was going to die, he would at least die comfortably and warm instead of cold and frightened. Alec tries to grab the cornstalk, as fake as the world around him was becoming, it might as well serve some purpose while it was there. Alas he did not see any weapons nearby. Alec keeps an eye out for any sharp sturdy sticks, hoping that one would be near. Axe-man fucked around with this message at 16:51 on Apr 13, 2012 |
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Apr 13, 2012 16:24
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Dolan "It's nothing of my doing," Dolan answers in regards to his pink cloud. It was most likely the doing of the Presence. The rest of this, though, it doesn't seem like what the Presence did before. What he remembered before had been so vivid and so real, whereas this seemed only half-formed. He'd had barely any will, any time to react before the Presence spoke and he was whisked awake again. If this was the Presence's work, something had changed, something had gone wrong. He turns, again and again at the sound of the wolf, then the hoof beats, then the dragon, each time turning to face a new foe from all directions. If this is what the Turns dictated, then so be it. "An honor," he repeats back to the northman, kneeling down and Drawing again. Attempting Stone Missile, dumping 4-1 FP into it if successful
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Apr 13, 2012 16:34
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Lette The girl looks back down, nodding sympathetically in response to Martin's reminiscence. "I know what you mean," she whispers in reply. "My family was... everything. Even farms came and went, but..." The final few words are barely audible, and after this Lette falls silent for a time. On seeing Alec shudder, Lette reaches into her pack and procures her own blanket, gently adding it to the northerner's own covers. He'd be finished with it just as she would have need of it, anyway. She hesitates at the sound of the distant wolf, then finishes pulling them up to his bearded chin. "Hear that? Wolves' howls are unique, though it's sometimes hard to tell. Listen for others. If the next one you hear sounds the same as that one, it could be lone." A miserable condition, to be sure. If it weren't almost certainly set in its feral ways — to say nothing of the ravenous and desperate state of most lone wolves — she might be tempted to try to bring it into the fold of their newfound camaraderie; gods know, making new friends has proved no small comfort to her. When silence sets back in, she returns to the stars. "The summer dragon is out, tonight," she offers, pointing to an array of stars closer to the horizon. "Do you smell cinnamon?" she jokes. Aeolius fucked around with this message at 18:33 on Apr 13, 2012 |
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Apr 13, 2012 16:35
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Isit "Isit will do, she is who I am now." Pausing, she examines the goddess with a cautious eye. She would have been terrified by the others, but this one was one of the few she cared to pray to, besides the bear mother. Shaking her head, she looks at the man. "I am not sure what I'm doing here. Was planning on having nice, normal nightmares, like usual." Folding the dead man's hands over his chest, Isit wipes the blood off of his face with a bit of cloth. Perhaps she did know him, but the army had been so large. "Sorry If I inconvenienced you. I might know him if he was in the army, but there were so many people that sometimes the faces blur together." Or she remembered her friends with the faces of men she had slain. "Why did he linger?"
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Apr 13, 2012 17:39
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Martin de Mignolet He laughs a bit in spite of himself - more of a chuckle, really - a bit of the stress melting away. "Ha, thankfully not," comments Martin softly, but with a bit more good cheer than before. For a brief time he remains without sound again, listening; and it wasn't the wolves he was trying to hear, but footsteps or a rustling that wasn't from the wind. Neither of those came - at least for now. As long as that stayed true his friends at least could rest easily, he supposed, being oblivious as he was to the current plight of his dreaming compatriots. His own rest, he thought, would likely come more fitfully. "I don't know much about wildlife, really. Enough to get by on my own but it seems most everyone here knows more than me. I was always more about people, I guess - how they act, how to fool people when you need to, how to get what you want or need to get or make them do what you need them to. Great fun and very useful, except out here." If the light were better, his dismissive shrug might have been more impactful, but here it was probably not even visible. "I suppose we ought not to be too worried though. This sort of stuff is the difficult part - marching, following the trail, waiting in the middle of nowhere and hoping nothing bad happens. Once we get where we're going things will be a lot more straightforward, I do really believe that."
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Apr 13, 2012 19:12
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Lette She listens in silence. "Fool people? Why is that something you'd have to learn? You don't strike me as a scoundrel." ...Which, she recognizes, could also mean he's excellent at it. "I can't help but take the other view, I suppose. I really enjoyed my time in the city, but the rest of it — the fighting, the intrigue — worries me. This part? This is comfortable. This part I know." She paused to listen to their surroundings again, tracing more constellations. "Look," she whispers after a time, pointing again. "The next-to-highest point on the Dragon of Summer is part of the Dry Path, which is not a constellation, but I don't remember word for it. Across the Dry Path is Philo, carrying his two jars. Water and... something with a v. Oh! Vitriol." She wasn't totally sure what that was; just a vague impression it was something alchemists argued about. "So, where did you live that was so apart from the wilds? You must have had stars, at least?" Aeolius fucked around with this message at 21:01 on Apr 13, 2012 |
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Apr 13, 2012 20:57
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As Dolan begins trying to cast the familiar spell, all the apparitions seem to pause in their tracks, looking at him. It's rather creepy; the dragon, in midair, isn't bothering to flap its wings but is still suspended in midair above the trio. The pink mist around him grows thicker, and the familiar touch of heat suffuses his background... but abruptly, Dolan can hear the voice speaking with more urgency than it ever has, "NO! DON'T!" She sounds... panicked, and speaking (or thinking) so loudly the other two can hear at the very edges of their perception a faint female voice. It's just too late, though- Dolan can feel the stones, more real than any of the bizarre dreamscape, collecting in his grasp and ready to be hurled at the foes besetting him. The apparitions, for their own part, keep their total and undivided attention on the dwarf. Alec makes further discoveries about how real the dream world is; the cornstalks he grabs tear off smoothly with almost no effort, but have no weight or heft to them. They're almost like shadows of the true things back in the waking world. Stone Missile successfully cast and ready for use. --- "You didn't?" Vuoksi raises her eyebrows. "Interesting. Were you... here?" With a sweep of her arm, she encompasses the entire battlefield. "You know, some of my sisters called this my finest hour. My biggest triumph." She snorts, and ruffles her wings. "I call it a damned waste, if you want to know my opinion. All these dead people, and for what? An empire that was already doomed." The goddess shakes her head. "But anyway, don't worry. It's rare enough that I get to meet anyone for more than, well, a few seconds while I'm on duty that I don't begrudge it. This man-" she pauses, cocking her head and staring off into nothing. "He... was caught by a pack of... the proper word is, I think, scavengers. Weak spirits, hardly any power to them, but they formed a group and hounded him through nightmares until they were able to sap enough energy to persuade him he was dying. When that happened, his mind cast out for some familiar scene he could rationalize dying in, and-" she nods to the ground. "Here he died. He didn't linger very long. A minute, perhaps, after the spirits were through... feeding." Vuoksi wrinkles her nose as she pronounces the last word like a particularly noxious smell. "Keep that in mind, though. In this half of the world, willpower and belief is everything. If you can be persuaded you're hurt, or dying, you are. Fights here go to the most stubborn, as often as not, or at least the more experienced with these rules. And dying on this side is usually much more unpleasant than in the waking world. But now that you're here... I really should be off, but... you're sure you have no connection to this man?" --- As if to confirm Lette's words, a similar howl rings out in the far distance to the west. Alec doesn't stop shivering when the blanket goes over him, but does half curl in on himself to preserve a little more bodily warmth. A slight breeze rustles the corn stalks, and draws another spate of birdsong... oddly, seemign to come from the road where the trail left off.
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Apr 14, 2012 00:30
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Alec Cheruci He turns his head toward Dolan, and says "Who was that, I thought I could hear a woman" shrugging Alec takes the stalk of corn in his hands and finds it odd. This couldn't be happening, it was like realizing that you were dreaming while dreaming. Alec looks at the stalk of corn in his hand and waves it around, looking at it he simply says "This is some sort of trick. Enough of this, Come out and face us!" Alec seems sure of himself as he says "Dolan, you need not cast your magic, there is no real danger here... yet. All of this is fake it has to be it makes no sense." Alec throws the odd cornstalk to the ground in front of Dolan and Lor'El. Alec shouts into the distance "Come out and show yourselves, We will honorably talk." Alec tries to disbelieve the illusion of this place and communicate with whoever is trying to do this. Will 10
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Apr 14, 2012 01:22
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