CCS Courier
IS OFFLINE
336
Renown
Female
Sylvan Elf
692 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Sept 27, 2023 23:23:14 GMT -5
Pressed into the earth, she can see only a little of Astrid beneath the rubble, prone and so terribly small. She isn't moving, the armor of her chestplate bowed inward from the impact. Horror hits Del like a dragon on a death-dive, a choked sob taking the wind from her lungs. A primal feeling that she cannot dream of a word for envelopes her; a maddening desperation of being pulled, suddenly in too many directions. Stay. Go. Help. From where? Go where? Again. Where again? Why again? Help. Help who?
And then, with the highest urgency of them all, a pulse through her chest as the golem's heavy footfalls shifts the ground behind her; Threat.
She rounds on the golem, its glacial hand raised high to strike her down. Whatever this feeling is, this sensation of being out of her depth and consumed by panic, Del realizes she can channel it into something. As the raised fist of the golem comes crashing down around her, Del channels it into making this terrible creature pay for what it just did to Astrid Stormstone.
It's wordless and quick. Del's hands come up to intercept the boulder-like fist-- not to stop it's momentum, but redirect it[1]. SHifting her weight and twisting her body around, Del hauls the frigid giant up and over her shoulder, throwing the golem like it weighed nothing across the crater and outside the range where it could cause further damage to Astrid. As it lays there on its back, Del is already hot on its heels[2], leaping onto the chest of the golem to drive her dross covered fists into the icy chest of the thing[3,4,5]. There is no rhyme or reason; she only knows that she must break this thing, must shatter it into a hundred, a thousand peices.
With the first blow there is a thunderous crack as her hand buries up to the wrist, cracking through the tough armored exterior of the golem. The second blow is even harder, a deeper, more penetrating strike that drives straight through the burning cold exterior and into the core of the thing, starting a crack that begins down the middle. This is followed by another punch. And another. Blood flies off her knuckles as she pulls back, the dross scattering from the ferocity of her strikes, and finally, the last blow shatters the surface of the golem, and it falls to pieces.
Her mind still singularly focused, she grabs one of the shattered pieces of the golem, whipping it as hard as she can at the Ur-Beast to force it back, draw its fire, before it can get to Astrid. Del moves quickly again to put her body between it and Astrid's prone form; she had to get moving. Get Astrid somewhere safe, to someone who could help. But there was a giant, undead, tormented creature between the two of them and freedom.
[1] Brawler Prestige IV - Reverse of Momentum [2] Cat's Grace [3] Brawler Prestige IV - Resonating Strike [4] Brawler Prestige II - Two Piece [5] Brawler Prestige III - Stunning Blows
|
|
The Tinkertons
IS OFFLINE
26/53
Renown
Dragon's Cradle
We're gonna get Zarius back.
1,872 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Oct 7, 2023 22:04:25 GMT -5
The chaos around the crater is nothing more than dull thuds rattling the ground around Astrid’s crumpled, unconscious body. With its quarry down, the Ur-Beast can accept its defeat at the hands of Del. Except while the elven woman pummels the icy golem, the Ur-Beast notices something in the crater. Sparks of electricity dance weakly off of the hammer still in Astrid’s broken grip. Then, the little arcs become more frequent until the flashes of light within the crater threaten to blind the beast for looking in that direction. More and more energy pours from the bonded weapon into the girl’s body until the lightning consumes her form entirely.
Astrid’s eyes open up, nothing more than voids of blue-white. Without a sound, she presses her hammer against the ground and stands up, phasing effortlessly through her broken armor. Her clothes and hair, also consumed by electricity, flail wildly around her like a victorious wind whipping through the valley. She is on her feet, she is reinvigorated, and she is ready to fight back. Taking her second hammer in her other hand, Astrid points her war hammer toward the Ur-Beast. Her voice echoes and warbles as she speaks.
“Whatever problem ya have with me or me clan don’t matter," she says. “Ya’ve hurt people ta try ta get ta me about somethin’ I don’t know nothin’ about. Whatever yer issue, yer gonna learn from me namesake that I ain’t just tough as stone, I've got the power a' storms in me blood.”
Lightning builds around Astrid, and while she taunts the Ur-Beast, two spectral, amorphous figures form within the lightning around her. Each stout figure has a pair of unnatural tendrils extending from their heads, and what few features that can be made out between the sparks seem to shift and never remain consistent. Neither of these spirits seem aggressive, in fact they move to protect the girl that rose from a puddle of blood.
This unforeseen turn of events has the Ur-Beast enraged. Snorts and huffs escape its nostrils. Why won’t this damn clan of traitors and thieves just die?! Its eyes focus on the two spirits manifested to protect the last remaining member of Clan Stormstorne. A cold wind suddenly buffets the forest, blasting the group with cold wind, gathering into a blizzard. This will be its last stand, its last attempt at revenge for the theft of many generations prior, and the last chance to wipe the cursed clan Stormstone from the face of Ginma’s green earth.
Spellblade - Sharing Essence [1/2 per topic] Full elemental manifestation - lightning No armor hit preventions left Spirit guardians - (8/8 hit preventions), 20ft radius aura (level 3)
|
|
CCS Courier
IS OFFLINE
336
Renown
Female
Sylvan Elf
692 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Oct 22, 2023 0:30:41 GMT -5
It is with tears streaming down her face and blood dripping from her knuckles as Del stands her ground between Astrid and the Ur-Beast with her teeth bared. It is for that moment between grief and fury that she weighs her chances of hurting this creature enough so that it cannot follow her as she spirits Astrid's prone body away to somewhere safe, or if she will be able to manage even that.
And it is in that moment when behind her, a storm stirs.
Skittering pops of static charges turn Del's head, eyes widening as she beholds the girl, suddenly a conduit of lightning, awake. Alive. Rising out of the teeming halo of energy are two spirits that rise beside Astrid as she intones grave words to the Ur-Beast, her voice far away and tinny as the scent of ozone
"Astrid...!" she breathes.
The joy of the moment is overshadowed by the direness of their situation. As the creature begins buffeting them with an icy wind, Del shifts further in front of Astrid to take the brunt, wincing with pain as the icy barbs cling to and embed themselves into her skin. Her tears burn against her cheeks, but it does not hurt so bad as it would if she was not a veritable furnace[1]. Holding fast, she focuses, looking, reaching for shadows-- they are hers to use.
From the shades of the rubble and the treeline, darkness pools at the feet of the Ur-Beast, before rising up and lashing themselves around its legs, rooting it to the spot to prevent it from moving, before diving out of the way to look back at Astrid, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end-- a sure sign of lightning about to strike nearby.
[1] Heat Gland [2] Shadow Dancer III - Shadow Binding
|
|
The Tinkertons
IS OFFLINE
26/53
Renown
Dragon's Cradle
We're gonna get Zarius back.
1,872 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Oct 29, 2023 18:23:51 GMT -5
Cold wind and snow whip at Astrid and Del, and the elven woman leaps in front of the electrically charged half-dwarf to take the brunt of it. Astrid meets Del’s eyes and gives a small nod of acknowledgment. There’s confidence, understanding, and gratefulness in the subtle movement of her head. They’re going to take this thing down together.
One of the amorphous figures drifts forward, the static energy it gives off invigorates the adventurers and at the same time oppresses the Ur-Beast. Astrid looks over at the spirit with a furrowed brow. She didn’t summon this, and it doesn’t have the same energy or appearance as Melodia. No, this is something different, yet familiar. She saw these manifest when she was fighting Ziev, when things were strange, and spacetime was out of the ordinary. They didn’t hurt her then, and she’s confident they won’t hurt her now. One of them interposes itself between Del and the Ur-Beast as wind whips at its ever-shifting form.
The Ur-Beast struggles against the tendrils of shadow that constrict its legs, bellowing in anger. Somehow the glowing blue lights in its eye sockets seem even angrier at the manifestation of the spirits and Astrid’s survival. Despite its jaw hanging by a thread of rotten flesh, its voice echoes out, carried by the wind and beating against their ears. “You thieving cowards, forsaking the power of the earth, the very dirt that birthed your people!” it roars. “Clan Stormstone deserved its banishment and destruction. Your lust for power is apparent, and if I am to be the last bastion of defense against your poisonous curse upon Charon, then so be it.”
If Del can grab its legs then it can play the same game. Rocks burst up from beneath the snow and charred vines to grab Del and Astrid’s legs. Then the air becomes still and incredibly cold as the Ur-Beast gathers the whipping snow into six frozen spears of ice that float around its person. With the dense power of magic in these spears, even heat could not melt them. Two spears each shoot at the degenerates standing before it at blistering speed. Each of the spirits flanking Astrid rush forward to intercept the spears, stopping their momentum. The ice is so cold that even the ethereal spirits start to glass over, but somehow the faceless spirits look determined to see this creature meet its end.
Astrid looks down at the earth trapping her feet and focuses her energy on shifting through the stone. Without issue, she steps free of the earthen grasp then suddenly dashes forward through the air, putting her just above the massive Ur-Beast’s head. With both hands, she slams her hammer down on the Ur-Beast’s head with such force that the bone shatters and slakes away, revealing a rotten core of viscera holding its antlers in place. It hacks up the remaining teeth and black blood that turns the snow at its feet into dark, crystalline spikes of ice. This creature may claim Astrid and her clan are a poison, but vengeance has taken its own toll on the beast.
Astrid: Full elemental manifestation - phase through objects Spirit Guardians (4/8 hit preventions) Bullet Dash (upward/forward) Anvil Smash
Ur-Beast: Earth Bind Permafrost, enhances Ice Spike(s) Stun from Anvil Smash prevents Master/Exalted skills/spells for 1 post
|
|
CCS Courier
IS OFFLINE
336
Renown
Female
Sylvan Elf
692 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Nov 24, 2023 1:41:37 GMT -5
There is much happening and that needs processing, but Del only has time for the battle in front of her, and to keep Astrid safe. The young girl is doing an incredible job of that, with the assistance and cover of the two spirits that had risen with her, shifting through the stone around them like it was naught but water. Whatever the creature's reason for attacking Astrid, clearly it could not have forseen how determined and resilient the young woman was.
Which is just as well, because if Del wasnt focused wholly on defeating the Ur-Beast, she would have died after that first volley of unmeltable spears of ice.
Rooted to the ground by the binding of earth cast by the creature, Del snarls, setting her stance wider as her arms lift. It is smooth and subtle, a turning of the momentum as the large shards are caught in Del's hands and, redirecting the momentum around herself in a fluid motion, hurling the Ur-Beast's ice attacks back at it [1]. Once. Twice[2]. Snatching the last of the three out of the air, Del jams the tip of the ice spear into the earth encompassing her legs, wincing again as the magical cold burns at her skin.[3]
The moment she's free, she darts towards the Ur-Beast to clear the distance between them, striking out with her palm at the large beast's leg [4]. There is a crack as bone strikes bone, and a pulse of magic negating energy flows through the Ur-Beast, leaving it weak, exposed, vulnerable.
And wide open for Astrid.
[1] Brawler Prestige II - Deflecting Palm [2] Unarmed Enchantment - Deflective Rune [3] Brawler Prestige I - Improvised Weapons [4] Unarmed Enchantment - Magic Blocker Rune
|
|
The Tinkertons
IS OFFLINE
26/53
Renown
Dragon's Cradle
We're gonna get Zarius back.
1,872 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Dec 3, 2023 17:51:14 GMT -5
Recovering from her last powerful strike against the beast, Astrid steps back, taking a heavy breath and collecting herself while Del takes advantage and unleashes an onslaught of fury. Del turns its own spikes against it, driving them through its stunned body and breaking through its putrid flesh. Were its legs not trapped by shadows, the Ur-Beast might stumble and fall. The force of the impacts by the spikes threaten to snap its legs off. Then, her final strike of palm to bone sends a rippling wave of weakening energy through the beast.
More viscera sputters out of its mouth. Its glowing blue eyes flicker in and out of existence, threatening to go unconscious or to leave its unlife.
And Astrid, for all her determination and anger, looks at this creature with pity on her face. For someone, anyone, anything to exist with so much hatred in their heart and a desire to kill someone who doesn’t have anything to do with whatever sleight this creature experienced… She wishes she understood.
Ice and snow gather on her while she stands motionless in front of the struggling Ur-Beast. The battered spirits stand ready on either side of her, prepared for anything the creature of vengeance tries last minute. Her calm in the storm juxtaposes the Ur-Beast’s labored breathing. The two of them watch each other, waiting for someone to say or do anything, but with its injuries, the Ur-Beast knows that its time is done.
Finally, Astrid speaks, her voice much more her own rather than the layered voices of her ancestors echoing together. “I wish we coulda come to an understandin’,” she says quietly. “I dunno what clan Stormstone did ta cause this, but… I’m sorry fer it. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is.”
Gathering the last of its strength, black viscera dripping into the snow from its mouth, the Ur-Beast glances between Astrid, the flesh of the curse, and the two spirits on either side of her. Even with the clan largely dead, it seems they aren’t actually gone. Taking a final breath, it begrudgingly says, “I am the harbinger of destruction for Clan Stormstone’s trespasses against Ginma. They are banished thieves who sought power elsewhere. I thought the bloodline destroyed after my last purge, but it seems dwarves are as resilient as their stone birthright.”
A wheezing cough escapes the beast’s maw. Its legs shake weakly and finally, it collapses, head laid in the snow. “Put an end to this old beast. If you find yourself wishing mercy, then make it swift so that I may return to the earth never to rise again.”
Astrid feels…conflicted. This creature tried its hardest and used the last of its unlife to cause so much pain to people who did nothing to deserve it. “I ain’t a curse,” she says firmly. “I ain’t a devil child. I ain’t haunted. I ain’t anythin’ but me. I’m Astrid Stormstone, daughter a’ Cantio von Lumen, best friend a’ Blue Raspberry. I got people who care about me that are me real family. I don’t know nothin’ about the history a’ me clan, but...” She lifts her hammer over her head. “This Stormstone’s gonna undo the hurt that you caused.”
And then, with all her might, she brings the hammer down on the Ur-Beast’s skull. Bone and antler shatter, black goo exploding out in all directions. The rest of the body collapses in on itself into nothing more than a rotten carcass. Around them, the snowstorm slows, the wind no longer thrashing at their hair and biting their faces. With the threat extinguished, the two faceless, shifting spirits on either side of Astrid fade wordlessly.
Astrid turns to Del. Her clothing is in tatters, her armor is crunched in the crater, and she is worn out. “Thanks…De…” Exhaustion consumes her, and the girl collapses.
|
|
CCS Courier
IS OFFLINE
336
Renown
Female
Sylvan Elf
692 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Jan 11, 2024 2:06:27 GMT -5
Del steps back, breathing heavily as adrenaline courses through her body, eyes wild with the habitual endorphins of combat, still wholly on alert and ready to launch herself again at the injured Ur-Beast if it tried anything further.
It didn't, of course. It was a sorrowful end to a creature that was meant to represent the best, most sacred parts of nature, that which resonated with her Sylvan Elf roots. To see it brought so low was uniquely disturbing... though, she did not find herself pitying the creature. In spite of the inevitable end it faced, the Ur-Beast would not be cowed.
Even as Astrid stood over the fading creature and dealt it a merciful final blow, ending the suffering it endured and that which it caused.
Del pays no mind to the viscera that spatters her clothes and skin; only the pain and regret on Astrid's face that this was necessary at all, but proud that the young girl did not shy from it. The storm begins to die down, the spirits vanishing with the tempest. As Astrid turns to Del, her expression shifts from determined resolve to deep concern. Del moves toward her. "Are you al--? Astrid!" She reaches out, catching the girl before she can hit the ground and drawing her close, protectively. "Gods damn it, please be okay..." She puts her hand near the young girl's face, to check if she is breathing-- she is.
Relief. "Okay, it's okay, I've got you," she mumbles half to herself as she shifts Astrid up into her arms. It takes a few seconds of adjusting Astrid so she was carried on Del's back, the girl's arms draped over her shoulders like a backpack-- the whole time, Del marvels at how light she is. How small.
Del pauses for a moment, swallowing down a grief that tastes like blood and bile. A child. Astrid was a child and had to endure all of this, and worse, had been dealing with similar things for some time, if the stories she had heard from the girl and from Cyran were any indication. She starts walking, a brisk pace that kept the shivers of cold and anxiety at bay, and amplified Del's natural heat that emanated from her like that of a forge to keep Astrid warm. Eventually, she finds her footing, picking up the pace as she simply starts in a direction, jogging with as light a step as she can to avoid jarring Astrid. The adrenaline would keep up so long as she kept moving.
...Now what?
She didn't want to take Astrid back to the village; they had not found any trace of the people that were taken by the Ur-Beast, for one, and for another, they had all proven they were angry at the girl for "causing" the rampage by the simple fact of her existing. So, that was out. But then, where could they go? Darkveil was at least a day or two's hard travel away, and Astrid needed medical care and a safe place as soon as possible. But where was safe?
Del furrows her brow in furious thought. Astrid said her name, while talking to the Ur-beast. Astrid Stormstone, daughter of Cantio von Lumen. She thought the name rang a bell, but could not recall from when or why it was familiar. In any case, that was a good clue, but did not point her in any particular direction. Getting to the nearest settlement and sending a letter drake was a possibility, but it might also take longer than what they had. And, was no guarantee of safety.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was Astrid's well-being and safety. She was someone's daughter, for godssake, and someone Del herself cherished. It was her job to protect this child, the way this child tried to protect so many adults. It was about time one of the grown-ups at least attempt to fulfill their duties.
An idea pops into her mind, as she feels a rush of comfort and questioning reassurance from the ring on her hand. Del pauses again, looking down for a brief moment. No, she was not capable of using magic to the extent that others were. But Cyran was. He was, as always, by her side, even when he was not there, offering this aid. The spell that he told her Eameia cast on her, when they first met.
She swallows, but does not hesitate. If ever the option was between an impossibility or a simple, effective solution, the simple solution won every time. Del did not know if this would work, but it was her only idea, and it would have to do. Drawing on the familiar, pleasantly cool energy of the ring, she pulls on the magic that connects her with Cyran, and casts a spell.[1]
Revealing the truth.
[1] Cyran's Eternity Ring - Reveal Truth
|
|
The Tinkertons
IS OFFLINE
26/53
Renown
Dragon's Cradle
We're gonna get Zarius back.
1,872 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Feb 14, 2024 19:50:15 GMT -5
“Disgustin’ devil child.”
“Go back te the Hells where ye belong.”
“Keep movin’, lest the ancestors curse ye too.”
Insults and superstitions float through the air like fallen leaves on an autumn breeze. Astrid’s subconscious plays each and every one back, but despite the harsh words, she doesn’t allow herself to be mired in them, only floating gently in the warm embrace of sleep – one of her greatest escapes. All of her injuries are healed on her physical body; some magic from her bond with her hammer always manages to keep her safe and nearly indestructible. Dwarves may not believe her true of blood, but the bond formed between hammer and child proves the opposite. Something from ancient stories she heard drifting through tavern alleys, something they never would expect a little street rat to accomplish – Well, proving them wrong has always been a motivating factor for Astrid, hasn’t it?
How many times has Astrid heard insults and slurs thrown her way? At what point did she stop caring about them? And how, despite it all, has she remained steadfast? Is it because she sees the best in people? Or to prove that she’s not what they say? Do their opinions really matter in the end if she’s managed to make something of herself? Maybe not. All that matters is clinging to the stories of heroes and becoming the kind of person that she so looked up to as a child. Who told her those stories? Were they all from tavern minstrels? Or from someone else…?
Suddenly, the sky is bright blue with sparse but puffy clouds decorating it with a pop of colorlessness. If only she could grab them and eat them. What would they taste like? In one hand, Astrid holds a stick split at the end with a rock tied between the fork. In the other, she holds the lid of a pot. Where did the lid come from? No, this isn’t a lid, it’s a shield! Her stubby fingers grip the makeshift hammer and hold it aloft to the sky. Mock sounds of thunder crashing escape her tiny mouth, and she charges at a tree with obvious marks from her perceived training regime. With how close they are to the ground, the girl can’t be very tall at all.
But there she is, in the grassy hills of a mountain valley, playing hero against the villainous tree until a voice shouts her name. Oh, it must be lunch time! With a great eagerness, Astrid charges towards a small hut of a house. Smoke rises merrily from the chimney – usually a sign that a meal is on the fire. Barely reaching the handle, Astrid bursts inside excitedly.
“There’s me good pot lid!” scolds the woman inside. The dwarven woman with blond hair pulled into twin braids that run down her back storms over and bops Astrid on the head with a wooden spoon. “I told ye not te take it.”
Somehow the bop doesn’t phase tiny Astrid. Perhaps it wasn’t enough to hurt. Still, a wave of shame washes over her as she sheepishly offers it back to her mother who snatches it with a huff.
“How come yer bringin’ sticks inside, girl? Out, take it out.”
“Ain’t a stick! It’s me hammer!” Astrid says, raising it with delight and triumph, a prideful grin plastered on her face.
A wave of annoyance crosses her mother’s face as she turns away, but Astrid is oblivious. “T’ain’t a hammer. Just a stick n’ stone. Put it back.”
Astrid pips up to argue, stomping a tiny, bare foot against the dirt and straw floor. “It is! Like the one in the book!”
Suddenly, her mother turns around to face her, stepping closer and looming over her. The light from the window does little to brighten the dark expression on her face. “What. Book?” Realizing that she has done something especially wrong, Astrid steps back, doing a poor job to hide the hammer stick behind her back, but this doesn’t deter her mother. “What book, Astrid?” She sounds angry, which only makes Astrid clam up more. “Astrid!”
Finally, Astrid breaks, pointing toward the only bedroom in the house. “Th-The one under yer bed! In the box. I saw it a-an’ I looked through it. How come ya never read me that book? It’s got lots a’ pictures in it! I liked the warrior with the big hammer!” When she looks back at her mother, all she sees in the dwarven eyes is cold fury. Suddenly, the warmth of the house and the smell of a meal fade away, and real fear strikes the small girl in the heart as the environment grows darker around her.
“That book weren’t fer you te see,” her mother says harshly. “Forget ye saw it.”
“But I don’t wanna! I wanna know more about it!” she protests, recovering some ounce of courage. “There were dwarves in there! An’ birds! Like the really big kind!”
“Forget it, Astrid!” her mother snaps, slamming the pot lid on the counter and storming past her into the room.
Despite a startled jolt racking her, Astrid turns to follow her. “Are ya gettin’ the book? Will ya tell me more about it??” She perks up when she sees the very book in her mother’s hand when the woman emerges from the room. It’s a beautiful tome, bound in leather and decorated with silver filigree. When her mother goes to the sitting area by the fireplace, Astrid excitedly follows after her, continuing to bombard her with questions. “Are we gonna read it together? I wanna know what the warrior with the hammer was doin’! He was fightin’ monsters with big antlers! Like big scary deer! What was he d–”
“Ye gods damned cursed child! I said shut it about the book!! T’ain’t nothin’ in here fer you!” Without looking at Astrid, her mother throws the book into the fire, and Astrid watches in silence as the cover curls in the heat.
…
Cursed… There’s that word again. Is she really such a cursed child?
In her periphery, she sees her mother sit at the table with her head in her hands. Maybe as a child, she didn’t understand, but now she can see that her mother is… in distress. Astrid looks down at her hands and sees them calloused and scarred – the hands she recognizes. She looks again at the table where her mother weeps, and silently, she makes her way over to her, one hand outstretched. When it makes contact with her mother’s shoulder, the scene suddenly twists and warps into a vortex of imagery that disappears completely with a flash of light.
It was never Astrid re-experiencing a memory. The outstretched hand belongs to Del, and in front of her stands a figure vaguely reminiscent of one of the spirits that manifested only a short while ago. While it is ethereal, its figure is slightly less amorphous than before. The stature is very much that of a dwarf, with wide shoulders and stout legs. But features remind one more of a Fellblood with twisting horns branch out from the forehead and follow the scalp. The face is difficult to make out individual features, but in the shifting essence, it appears to have a braided beard.
“These ain’t the answers ye came fer,” the figure says in a deep, gruff voice that echoes in the surrounding empty void. “These memories won’t do neither a’ ye no good. The clan’s past be its own, an’ that beast were the last of its demons. If she really be wantin’ answers, she’ll know where te find ‘em. Dwarves got the memory a’ the stone in their blood.”
As it extends a hand out to motion, the shape of its arm doesn’t stay consistent. At times it appears like that of a dwarf in armor, and seconds later it looks thin and gnarled like the branches of a swamp tree. “Ye’ll find what ye need there,” it says, pointing to a light in the distance.
With an almost kind and thoughtful tone, it says, “Good folks like ye care fer the girl. That’s all she needs. Don’t need te chase a past that don’t serve her. Glory’s earned, not stolen.” It looks at Del, and for a moment, it almost appears to be smiling behind the wispy beard. “Girl’s gotten more than all her ancestors combined.” Then it looks back at the light twinkling in the distance. “Get outta here.”
As if on command, the void rushes past Del and forces her into the bright light floating in the distance. The air feels lighter, brighter. And then there’s laughter echoing all around her – Astrid and Cantio’s mixing, and the scene forms into the two of them going through a checklist of Astrid’s adventuring gear in the foyer of their home.
“Have you got your gauntlets?”
“Right here, Da,” Astrid says, wiggling her already suited-up fingers at him. Cantio smiles and starts listing off a plethora of other things Astrid very clearly has equipped as if he can’t see them at all. “Okay, okay! I get it! Ya wanna be thorough!” she says, giggling.
“Of course I do. I worry about you,” Cantio says, taking a knee and smoothing Astrid’s cape across her shoulders with a somewhat melancholic smile on his face.
With a bright smile, Astrid says, “I know ya do. Ain’t nothin’ ta worry about. I’ll always come home, promise.” Then she steps into Cantio’s arms and the two of them embrace. “I’ll be back in a couple a’ days. I’m gonna go huntin’ some Clasp members with Leni!” She sees a concerned expression on Cantio’s face and laughs. “Don’t worry, ain’t no flesh golems. I think.”
“Will you really be alright doing something with the Fighter’s Guild again?” he asks, to which Astrid shrugs in return.
“Just ‘cause I ain’t part a’ the guild no more don’t mean I don’t care about findin’ Athena,” she says. “I’ll be back in one piece. Promise.” Astrid breaks into a fit of giggles again when Cantio pulls her into another hug and smothers her in affections before she finally manages to wiggle free. “Okay, okay! I’m goin’! I got a lot a’ distance ta cover! Spicy, let’s go!” Whistling quickly, her trusty hellhound pet bounds over and paces at the door, his bony tail wagging wildly. Astrid hurries over and pulls the door open. “See ya!”
Watching her go, Cantio gets to his feet, then he stops her just short of closing the door. “Oh! Your key! Do you… have the little key that gets you home quickly?”
Astrid rummages around in her bag and pulls out an intricate-looking key, presenting it to Cantio. “Always! I love this thin’!”
“Good, good. Be safe! I love you!”
“Love ya too! See ya!”
Then the door closes, and the memory fades, lingering on the image of a simple key that can get Astrid home from any door in Charon.
|
|
CCS Courier
IS OFFLINE
336
Renown
Female
Sylvan Elf
692 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 22, 2024 0:56:20 GMT -5
Magic was a foreign thing to Del; she could not use it, save for a few notable exceptions that were more ingrained in the structure of her body, or tools she could occasionally access than anything that resembled the conscious formation of a spell. She was aware that ambient magic was present within her, as it was with most things in the world, but she could not shape it to her will. She was no scholar, no wizard, no mage. The spell she knew only from her connection with Cyran, was able to tap into his ability to cast it through herself.
As such, she was wholly unprepared for the way the magic pulled Astrid's memories into her own mind as she searched for the information she needed. A flood of sight, scent, texture, taste, sound, an experience of a decade in a blink. The feeling of being cursed. The despair of being looked on by a trusted parent with disdain and aggression. There isn't even time to address the dreamlike visage of the dwarvish man, who, for the barest instant when his ghostly expression softened, she thought might have been Maruyama. It was not, for this shade had horns, but the information being absorbed so quickly had caused some overlap with her current memories.
Between one step and the next, the spell begins and ends, imparting to her a pounding migrane and blinking fresh tears of empathy down her cheeks. Her tongue, thick and heavy with dwarvish, stammers out an incomprehensible set of fragmented, half-thought sentences before her mind is able to finally catch up with her body in the physical world. Inhaling a shuddering breath, Del pauses her stride to look in the direction of where home was, with Cantio-- a name and a face she recognized now, from Sol City, months ago-- and briefly, again, down to the unconscious Astrid. Just a kid.
Just a goddamn kid.
If that was what childhood was like, then Del was glad she could not remember her own.
"Okay," muttering to herself again, sniffling, she holds Astrid close, and thinks of the nearest settlement. If she could find a door, and use Astrid's hand to open it, she could get them there quickly. That would save them the precious time needed to get Astrid the help she needed. With renewed determination, Del sets her jaw and presses forward. "Let's get you home."
|
|
The Tinkertons
IS OFFLINE
26/53
Renown
Dragon's Cradle
We're gonna get Zarius back.
1,872 POSTS & 0 LIKES
|
Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Mar 31, 2024 19:50:33 GMT -5
Despite the unconscious state of the half-dwarf, the two spirits from before linger in the destruction in the forest, their forms ever-shifting between different states of being – not quite man, not quite monster. Their glowing voids for eyes watch Del silently while she manifests the magic to find some truth about the girl in her arms. As the magic reveals knowledge to Del, one of the spirits disappears. Presumably to warn away the elf from truth unnecessary to her goals or guide her to the information she needs.
The other spirit, meanwhile, looks around the clearing. Its gaze stays fixed on the Ur-Beast’s desecrated corpse. Ichor from the skull stops pooling on the ground and poisoning the plants peeking up from beneath the skulls. Somehow, the faceless spirit seems disturbed by the undead abomination. Finally, it pulls its eyes away from the crushed skull and focuses on the war hammer left on its splattered remains. Remnant electricity sparks off of the weapon, and the spirit’s head turns to the side as it watches the last remaining arc dance along the haft and dissipate in the snow. The child wielded it with ease, as if a natural extension of herself. Something that the clan head might be proud to see in another time.
A language the spirit knows well snatches its attention, and it turns to look at Del as she murmurs borderline incoherent sentences in dwarvish. An elf who speaks the tongue of stone. The spirit is unsure what Del intends to do, but it senses no ill will from her. Instead, it can see that she aims to protect. It could feel the half-dwarf’s will to keep her safe. An interesting pair.
With Del’s wits about her, the other spirit, stouter and more broad shouldered than the one that stayed behind, reappears in the forest. The two spirits look at each other for a long time before turning their gazes back to Del and watching the elf shuffle to her feet. Neither spirit blocks Del from moving forward, though they do look to Astrid’s belongings; bits of broken armor scattered in the nucleus of the crater; a hammer of ice as tall and heavy as the girl herself; and of course, the unconscious girl in the elf’s arms. Despite the entities being faceless, their ethereal posture indicates concern.
The more stout spirit drifts over to Astrid’s belongings in the crater, wandering around as if to sift through her items. It settles over the broken satchel amongst her crumpled armor where Del could find the key from the vision revealed to her by the spell.
|
|