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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Aug 4, 2023 10:05:53 GMT -5
"Trust yer gut, girl."
Grumble, grumble... This is stupid... This won't work....
"Yer soundin' like an old woman now..."
His accent was foreign to her ears, the raspy voice filled with a gravitas that hit a place of familiarity she couldn’t put her finger on. Foreign, and yet familiar. The smell of tobacco coming from him clashed strongly with the delicate notes of jasmine on her end. Sometimes she could barely see him, his figure still waxing and waning as his connection to the world of the living got stronger by the minute. But the scent of tobacco and cognac announced his presence unfailingly.
Not that he should be there, mind you. He was dead.
Kamille was in a foul mood - she woke up like that, plagued by a feeling of restlessness that led her to change the place her house had buried its butt very early in the morning. Then she got out to finish a task she had suddenly set her mind on, stomping around the forest until she found the place Kalaf had been sleeping. The giant drake didn’t pay much attention to her when she asked for his help. The sun wasn’t high enough for her to pester him for non-emergencies, so Kalaf stuck his gigantic head under his wings and promptly ignored her... Even when she climbed on his back to reach a tree right above him.
"Why don't ya call that golem you'd been working on?"
"Because I'm still working on it."
"What exactly are ya doin' by the way?"
"I'm... trying... to find a way... to scry the forest whenever I need..."
"Ah...! And this came all of a sudden because....?"
That was a good question. It was not only that, but the very sudden appearance of the man felt quite ominous. It brought some unwanted attention towards her, specially from the Golden Consortium. Kamille finished tying what appeared to be a simple, small bow of glass near the trunk of the tree, filling it up with some water from a canteen on her waist.
"I'm not sure...."
"Yer not a good liar....."
Humpf...
Rarely ever security measures came out of the blue, not after some bandits she assumed to have been from the Clasp tried to attack her at her own house. Whispers of some strange wanderers around Moonveil Forest left her on edge, specially when she wasn’t able to locate them. That, coupled with a few stinky eyes during a meeting at the Golden Consortium, and a rather recent altercation with a group that belonged to the Dial Fractum, was probably what prompted Kamille to act. She was starting to feel like she was at Court again, and as much visibility she gained... the foes started to pile up. She'd be lucky if most of them were as upfront as the Dial Fractum in their distaste for her - and that specific case was unfortunate, seeing as they shared a basic common goal of protecting Moonglade.
But that wasn’t the reason she was in such a foul mood. The Witch shot an irritated look towards the man. The more time he spent around her, she felt his connection to the world of the living became stronger. His image was getting clear, and she could almost distinguish the details of the runes on his cane, despite the sun light peeking out of the trees crowns.
She wasn’t sure why his presence annoyed her so much, but she could only imagine it's been a long time since she last felt like a child. It hit a special place in her heart that caused her blood to boil quickly - too quickly. The whole situation involving his presence was worrying enough, and it only got worse that she knew him to be hiding much...
"Like I said, trust yer gut."
"My gut tells me you're annoying me on purpose."
He chuckled.
"Yer gut is right."
Humpf....
"If Allan and Poe were successful on their hunt, they'll be home by now... Let's head back. I need to test this thing bac-"
Kamille almost lost her footing as Kalaf shifted beneath, extending out his long reptilian neck out of its hiding spot. The drake sniffed the air twice, puffing out black smoke before that.
"Are you expecting visits, little one?"
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Aug 13, 2023 13:39:08 GMT -5
The sound of wingbeats interrupts Kamille's conversation with the strange entity. Glinting in the sunlight is a shimmering silver drake flying overhead. Instead of continuing past, it circles, swooping lower and lower until it finally lands with a thud near Kalaf.
Indra snorts in response to Kalaf, the black dragon's puffs of smoke met with the fresh scent of ozone breathed by the storm drake. Although younger, the storm drake nearly rivals Kalaf in size, maybe being a bit lighter in build than the mighty black drake. There's a rumble in Indra's throat, a welcome, but also a warning that she is more than prepared to defend herself if needed.
"Easy, girl."
The voice comes from a young dark elf riding on the back of the silver storm drake. She pets the drake's neck as she slides off its back and lands on the ground. The girl has lilac skin with white hair streaked with black, she looks like she might only be a teenager, but she's geared out with a bladed whip on her hip and a pair of fighting knives strapped to the outside of her tall boots. She eyes Kalaf with more interest than she shows Kamille, though she does give the woman a once over with a certain level of judge-y skepticism.
Two others also dismount from the drake, two that Kamille recognizes well. Eirynor and Snow, Zarius' companions who often accompany the fellblood on missions. Yet, the fellblood is nowhere to be seen. It's only them, and they look fairly travel-worn as if having been on the road for some time.
Snow is the first to approach Kamille.
"Hello, Lady Kamille. I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Eameia asked us to reach out for your help, and we have some information for you."
The catfolk, who normally is pretty jovial, sounds very tired. The journey from Darkveil had been a long one, and it's clear the group is a bit ragged from the long journey.
Eirynor says nothing, which isn't abnormal for him but seems to be even more anxious than normal. The tall man glances about the trees with suspicion, as if expecting something to pop out at them at any moment.
Snow takes a breath and continues. "Is it alright if we talk at your home? It's best if what we have to say isn't said out in the open."
The girl folds her arms across her chest as she eyes the witch. "This is the legendary Witch of Moonglade?"
Eirynor shoots the young dark elf a scolding look and signs to her to show some respect.
She stares at the elven man. Sign language was not something she has picked up quite yet, and he knows this. Still, given his body language, she gets the gist of what he's probably trying to tell her. She rolls her eyes. "She's not what I was expecting given the rumors. Just saying."
Snow ignores the comments from the dark elf. "We'll try not to take up too much of your time, but this is fairly urgent."
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Aug 31, 2023 12:41:13 GMT -5
When it became clear that the beast flying overhead was about to land nearby, Kalaf seemed to tense up, black smoke already escaping his nostrils. It was a rare occasion to have a visit from another drake, and as far as he knew it, no one in Kamille's immediate circle had a drake as a companion.
The entourage was a familiar one, at least. Kamille just didn’t recognize the younger lady and the storm drake, but no doubt they were... interesting additions. Kalaf looked less impressed, and as much as he liked little hatchlings, that was an entirely different creature. As he felt the storm drake's rumbling, he tried his best not to roll his eyes; he was supposed to be the adult one there, right? Right?
"Humpf.... teenagers....."
Kamille was.... torn, visibly. As much as she enjoyed Eameia's chats and the brief company of Zarius' associates, a lot of circumstances have changed and evolved lately. Sometime has passed, but she hasn't been able to understand much of what had happened yet, and she felt utterly unprepared for the encounter.
Zarius was nowhere to be seen, but she knew to expect they were there at his orders. Last time she encountered the fellblood was... a mess. No wonder he wouldn’t come to meet her himself, and she could appreciate the effort in keeping things civil and being diplomatic. Kamille jumped off of Kalaf, as the drake once again recoiled in the known "sleeping dragon do not disturb" position.
"What an unexpected surprise! Good day Snow, Eirynor, young lady...?"
While the Witch looked unphazed by the young woman’s remark, the soft sound of a chuckle came from the flickering image of the older man. He was clearly a ghost, if they ever encountered one, still with a very faint connection to the world of the living. While he hasn't been introduced yet, he had an intense gaze and had seemingly been paying attention to everything in silence, since the beginning. His choice of quality, elegant clothes, complete with a hat and cane looked out of place when compared to his white and black face paint, in the shape of a skull. It was hard to say if there were actual eyes in the dark sockets they were supposed to be, but there was, for sure, a dramatic, dark blue glint there. If that wasn’t enough, the familiar performative flair about him seemed to scream of the man's similarities to the Witch.
As if to draw attention back to her and away from the man, she addressed the young woman.
"Real people are fairly dissappointing compared to stories, I agree. Stories are always as wild as they can get."
Once again she turned to Snow. She agreed her house was the better place for a private talk - it was also the safer place for her. With a nod of the head, she started to head into the woods, expecting them to follow.
"Might I have a preview of what's the matter at hand?"
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Aug 31, 2023 16:27:06 GMT -5
Indra snorts back at Kalaf and looks indignant about his dismissal of her. Indra is a racing drake, born and raised to be a mount. There's a certain amount of pride that comes with being pushed to win no matter the costs. As such, most of the other drakes she has encountered have been others raised for the same purpose with the same expectations and competitive environment. It's rare she runs into a drake that smells the way Kalaf does, but she at least knows not to pick a fight with an older drake for no good reason.
"No need for such rudeness, Elder. I have no interest in quarreling over territory with you."
Of course, only Kamille hears any of this exchange while the others are blissfully ignorant of the drakes' contention.
"Good day to you as well Lady Kamille," Snow replies with a smile, though Kamille would be able to tell it is apologetic and forced.
Eirynor just gives a silent nod as is expected from the mute half-elf, though he does eye the specter behind Kamille with some suspicion and caution.
"Name's Shael," the younger dark elf says curtly then nods at the ghostly man. "Cool ghost, I like the face paint."
She then raises her eyebrow. "Not disappointed actually. You're way prettier than the rumors I've heard. Some folk describe you as some child-eating curse-slinging ugly hag."
"Shael!" Snow looks mortified that she just said that.
"WHAT? I'm complimenting her!"
Eirynor facepalms and just looks absolutely exhausted.
"I'm so sorry, Lady Kamille." The flustered catfolk would be red with embarrassment if they weren't covered in a thick fluffy coat of fur.
The group moves to follow after the witch as she leads them through the forest. Indra waits for Kalaf to make the first move, not wanting to risk having her haunches anywhere near his teeth should he snap at her. Shael glances over her shoulder at the one-sided stand-off between the two drakes but isn't too concerned. She's pretty sure Indra could outmaneuver the cranky old drake well enough on her own.
"Yes, of course. We're here on Miss Eameia's behalf, uhm...it's about what happened recently in Dragon's Cradle."
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Sept 9, 2023 16:06:31 GMT -5
The black drake was clearly built for strength and endurance, not speed. And even though he was sensible enough to know to respect some of the mortals boundaries and rules, mostly out of respect of his rider, Kalaf remained mainly a wild drake.
At the storm drake's remark, he opened a single eye.
"Which means, at the very least, you're a smart one. Your nest is in the Stormlands? The gray lands beyond the Mountain of Fire?"
Kamille glanced over to the drakes. Usually she wouldn’t worry about Kalaf, as she knew him to know to take care of himself. But the drake also had his own way of handling things that completely disregard the long term effects of his actions.
She chuckled. As if I'm that different...
Shael's remark seemed only to amuse her, as Kamille chuckled softly at the young woman’s unfiltered opinion. She turned to Snow.
"I like her. You should bring her more often. And before I forget, this is Étienne. He is my new personal poltergeist, apparently."
"Ahh, glad to see you still got some manners, child. Very nice to meet you, gentlemen, my lady. You may call me Mr. Étienne, Hexmancer and Witchdoctor of ye old times. I would give you a card if I had one."
With a curteous bow, the ghost faded from his position, only to appear a bit closer, taking a good look up and down the group. There was a faint light dancing where his eyes were supposed to be, dancing stars against dark blue irises - but nothing more.
"Ohhh....... Am I right to assume the good Witch angered someone? Wouldn’t be the first..."
"Wouldn’t be the last..."
"Yer very good at it, though."
"Why, thank you. It runs in the family."
It was clear by the man's penchant for drama and theatrics were very much similar to the Witch's own demeanor. At the mention of Dragon's Cradle, Kalaf slowly turned his scarlet eyes to the group, black smoke escaping his nostrils once again.
If you don’t, I will.
"My house is close. The Quills must be waiting to start dinner. We can talk in my office. Come."
Kamille turned to follow back into the woods, while the old drake's eyes followed the group from his spot. While he didn’t look like he was gonna accompany them, he seemed to understand what it was all about.
And he didn’t like it.
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Sept 12, 2023 10:46:39 GMT -5
A rumble rises from the back of Indra's throat. It's not so much a growl, but more a hum of contemplation.
"I have no need for a nest. I roam with my ward as is my sworn duty."
Indra's situation may seem very odd to a wild drake, but it is all the storm drake has ever known. From what she understands, her egg was stolen away from the nest by people called poachers who then hatched her for service and sale to others. Her earliest memories of being a drakeling include cold iron bars and the sounds of dozens of others chained and caged. For many months, she never knew the open sky or the scent of the wind. She only knew her cage and that food would appear so long as she behaved.
Then things changed. Coin exchanged hands, and for the first time, she stepped out of her cage. Many things happened between then and now. Many things, both terrible and fortuitous. And though Indra has encountered many other drakes, both in similar situations to her and those more like Kalaf, she has long stopped feeling wanting. The journey has been filled with hardship, unfairness, and cruelty, but all that is in the past, far behind her. Now she knows her place in the world and is content with it.
She snorts a bit and looks down at Kalaf.
"What of you, Elder? You speak of lands far from here. Do you roam with your ward as well?"
Meanwhile, Snow, if they weren't covered in a thick coat of fur, would be visibly blushing out of embarrassment right now. Shael was proving to be a lot of trouble, far more than Askr or Iryla. Gods forbid her bad attitude and rudeness rubs off on either of them.
Shael waves at Etienne. "How do you even get a personal poltergeist? Did you kill this guy and now he's haunting you, because that is awesome."
"I don't think being haunted by someone you killed is a good thing," Snow leans away from Etienne as he draws closer and eyes the group with those unnerving burning lights for eyes.
The dark elf shrugs. "Depends on if they can do anything to you or not. Hey, Hex-man, do you throw things around in the middle of the night?"
Eirynor just rubs his eyes, exhausted from the trip and from being around Shael for far too long for his liking. The two have not exactly gotten along well ever since Shael was brought back to Darkveil with Zarius and Caedes. It didn't help that they had no way to communicate effectively, though Eirynor does now carry a notebook around with him to write simple notes when necessary. Course that was only effective when Shael chose to take any time to read the damn things, which she often doesn't even bother.
"Uhm, not exactly," Snow responds to Etienne's question. They shift away from the ghost, clearly uncomfortable with his proximity and follow after Kamille with the others.
Shael glances back over her shoulder at the pair of drakes. "You two play nice!"
Another rumble like thunder rises in Indra's throat, a noise meant to convey she acknowledges Shael's words. The drake then looks back down at Kalaf.
"You are angered, Elder. I assure you my ward and her companions mean your lady no harm."
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Sept 25, 2023 12:25:27 GMT -5
Perhaps it came to no one's surprise that Kamille seemed to find Shael fun. Étienne also let out a chuckle, as his image shimmered and reappeared next to Shael.
"A poltergeist? That's not at all what I am, child! Imagine the irony! The great voodoo king of the plains becomes a poltergeist! No no no... I would refuse to come back just for that...!"
"You're more than welcome to go away, then...."
"I died many years ago, young Miss... I don’t remember this story about dead gods, so it must have been looooong ago. The Lady Witch didn’t yet enlighten me with much news of what is happening on the world right now, so I can’t say for sure... But as for yer question, no, I'm not a poltergeist. I'm an ancestral spirit, an' I can do much more than just knock stuff."
The ghost didn’t seem to even register Kamille's remark, and as the group headed out of the clearing, Kamille walked by Snow's side, allowing the teenager and the ghost to keep up at their pace.
In a more grave, lower tone, Kamille turned to Snow as they walked.
"I have an idea of what have brought you here, of course, and I'm not gonna be unreasonable. But I'd think it wouldn't be Miss Eameia to send you here. This troubles me. How is your boss?"
The Witch could only assume that, if it wasn’t Zarius himself to reach out, either he was much more troubled than she first thought... Or he didn’t want to admit it. Either way, there was something to be said about helping people who didn’t want help...
The old drake followed the group with his eyes until they dissappeared between the trees. He knew there was no place safer than their own territory, especially with the other feathery ones around, so he just huffed as he turned back to Indra.
"I'm enjoying my sunset years, young one, seeing the world once more before the earth takes me. Roam? I think you could call it that... But it's been good. The little ones are... interesting... Not at all what I expected..."
Clearly the black drake had a wildly different life than Indra, and as the storm drake still oozed with energetic youth, the old one had the marks of his years on his body, his wings covered in small rips and scars. Even if his scales were still shinning like black mirrors, he felt heavy. Weighed. Unbroken and stable.
"You have much trust in your companion, youngling... Why?"
As the group started to approach the Witch's house, the first thing that they would notice was that... it was a bit different than what the description they likely received. The house itself was a two store house that didn’t look much different from what you would find sitting inside a clear in the woods.
If it wasn’t sitting on two bird-like legs, that is.
Kamille looked around, puzzled.
"Huh... I thought Poe and Edgar would be home by now... I wonder why they're late..."
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Oct 1, 2023 18:17:45 GMT -5
Shael raises an eyebrow at Etienne as he reappears near her. She doesn't reach for a weapon or even flinch, but it's clear from her face that just cause she thinks he's neat doesn't mean she's letting her guard down.
"Maybe your memory is just shit cause you died," she says bluntly, not really caring if that comes across as insensitive towards the ancestral spirit. "The world's fucked, that's all you really need to know. Nobles are shitty, commonfolk are shitty, everyone's just shitty."
Snow makes a face at Shael's comment but refrains from saying anything before turning their attention back to Kamille as she addresses them.
"I appreciate you being willing to hear us out after what happened. I can't imagine that Master Zarius doesn't regret the situation he put us in." The catfolk keeps their voice low and is careful with their phrasing, but there's the slightest quiver in their voice as if the words are hard for them to say and admit to. "Master Zarius isn't unaware of what we're doing, but Miss Eameia is the one who directly asked us to reach out to you. She does not want to wait any longer to get help. It is a sensitive matter though...if word of this spreads, it could cause a lot of harm and we would like to avoid those outside of a small trusted circle knowing the details. They both think very highly of you and trust you to be within that circle."
Indra listens to Kalaf's sentiments quietly, ensuring not to interrupt the elder drake lest he snap at her. She knows older drakes to be cantankerous and moody at times, and Kalaf has the scars to prove he can handle being in a scrap here and there.
"Others before her brandished whips and sticks. She has never struck me, never shouted or chained me to the earth. She freed me, and I in turn freed her." Indra shifts her weight and slowly slides down to lie on her belly, folding one front talon over the other while her wings tuck against her sides. "It is as if our souls resonate with one another. Though we cannot speak to one another, we understand each other and feel each other's pains and triumphs."
The storm drake closes her eyes and just basks in the moment. It's not often she gets to share such words with another, most other racing drakes do not care to listen. She opens her eyes once more and looks at Kalaf.
"What of your ward, Elder? Do you not trust her?"
Meanwhile, Snow and Eirynor stick close to Kamille as she leads them towards her home with Shael and Etienne trailing not far behind them. Seeing the house in person definitely is a shock given what they were expecting does not match what they see at all.
"Oh my gods, it has legs," Shael blurts out.
Snow doesn't know what to say while Eirynor perks up at the mention of Poe's name right before his shoulders droop at the mention of Edgar's. The tall half-elven man signs to Kamille that he would be willing to go look for the pair if she would like.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Nov 2, 2023 17:56:09 GMT -5
Kalaf growled softly as Indra told her story - one he had heard before, but the old drake never met another drake that had lived under those conditions. A slow burn anger seemed to flash before his eyes as he heard of how Indra was treated.
"I trust my little one, but I'm not blind to her shortcomings - that's all. I...... think I know of this connection you speak of..."
For a moment, Kalaf looked thoughtful. Clearly, he wasn't used to dwell among mortals that much, and recent months with his rider had shaken his perspective of the little ones, as he put it. He knew of those creatures as Indra described, with whips and sticks, trying to bend their will and raid their nests... And while they still existed, they were very different from their riders.
"...But still. The little ones can be fairly foolish... Sometimes I wonder how my little one is still alive. I met her when my sister told me she risked herself to retun-"
Whips and sticks.
Whips and sticks and trecherous means.
The black drake rose his head from its resting place, taking a sniff of the air around them. A sweet - strange - smell slithered into the clearing the drakes were resting, something he couldn't identify. Something that felt... unnatural. Deliberate. Purposeful. The great beast started to raise his body from the ground-
-but then the world spun, and the earth escaped beneath his claws. A beat of his wings didn't seem to do anything to change the course of wind, and soon the sweet scent brought down a heavy cloud upon his mind, as his conscious thoughts slipped away from the safety of the little ones and Indra...
And into the darkness.
It was just a second - but it was there: Etienne seemed to squint his eyes at Shael, before making that sound that resembled to rattling bones - a dry chuckle, devoid of any real sense of humour.
Girl has no idea how close she is from the truth.
Kamille nodded along as Snow relayed what he could at the moment. What she took from it was that the fellblood wasn't the one reaching out directly, and she wondered if it was because of what happened the last time they met. She wondered how much worse the situation actually was, and how much he was aware of it before it reached a boiling point...
"For how long has this... issue.. been known? By you? By Eameaia?"
First thing she would need to understand was if it was caused by something that happened along the way, or something older, slithering into existance little by little as time goes by...
Like a curse.
The Witch glanced over to Etienne. She didn't want to ask for the ghost's help...
But Shael's reaction to her house did have her chuckle a bit.
"Don't scare it if you don't want to run after a house."
While Kamille looked ready to take up on Eirynor's offer to go off to find Edgar and Poe, as she opened her mouth, one of the Quills arrived at the clearing. It was Edgar, with a small wild boar over his shoulders, his recent kill that was probably meant to become their dinner. The Witch seemed glad to see him, but Snow and Eirynor would clearly see her relief was short lived, giving room to a suspicious look.
"Where's Poe?"
"Cleaning herself. She'll be back soon."
Kamille shot a worried look to Snow, as Edgar unloaded the boar on a flat stone before the house, taking out his knives to skin it. She touched a long, black feather she had on her necklace - one Eirynor would probably have noticed that all of the Black Quills also had... And that was missing on Edgar right now.
Not only that, but as Edgar walked past the group, he glanced over Shael, Snow, Eirynor... and walked ahead, without a hint of the scorching gaze he often offered the half elf previously.
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Nov 5, 2023 19:36:04 GMT -5
Indra listens to Kalaf respectfully, watching his body language for any shift in his attitude. Her interest is piqued as the older drake seems to take a moment to reflect on the conversation. She's so curious about the older drake and what wisdom he holds. But their conversation is cut short by an odd scent on the wind.
As Kalaf moves to stand, she snaps to attention. Her nostrils flare and she takes a breath, trying to determine where the scent is originating from, which is ultimately her downfall. She tries to stand up, but her legs feel heavier than normal and her haunches refuse to hold her weight. It's only a few seconds before her eyelids flutter and then close. Her head lolls forward and she slumps to the ground with a thud.
Shael doesn’t seem to be bothered by Etienne’s squinting or chuckle. She’s too fascinated with the undead, and then the house with legs, to care.
Snow hesitates when Kamille asks her question. “I’m not sure…I regret not noticing something was wrong with him sooner. Things have just…escalated more recently. We don’t even really know exactly what is going on…what we do know, it’s bad.”
It’s obvious that the catfolk is struggling and feeling guilty for not doing more to intervene. “Miss Eameia has been looking into it, but she can’t leave Darkveil so the information she has access to is limited and-”
The catfolk stops talking as Edgar appears alone from the edge of the forest. They give him an awkward wave, but something seems…off.
Snow’s ear twitches as Kamille shoots them and Eirynor a look. Snow doesn’t know the Black Quills that well, and they couldn’t say they know Kamille that well either. But they were used to people’s subtle shows of skepticism and mistrust from working with Zarius.
Eirynor, on the other hand, narrows his eyes at Edgar and seems to come to his own conclusions quickly. The swordsman turns invisible and silently rushes up behind Edgar before slamming into him and tackling him to the ground. The tall half-elf gets Edgar in a headlock and then hooks his ankles around his arms and waist.
The catfolk reacts quickly afterward, whipping their longbow off their back, notching an arrow, and standing by Kamille defensively. Something was going on. Something was very wrong.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Shael, who is the least familiar with the Black Quills, has no context for what is going on and just assumes Eirynor has snapped and gone mad for some reason. She almost jumps over to pry the two half-elves apart when something sharp pricks the back of her neck.
“Ow!” She swats at her neck, thinking that she just got bit by a bug before her vision blurs and spins. The young dark elf collapses on the ground, unconscious, but breathing.
“Shit.” Snow huffs and turns their aim towards the dense treetops. They have no way of telling how many assailants there are and they didn’t quite see where the attack on Shael came from. The only thing they can tell is that this is clearly an ambush, and given that Zarius is not with them, they can only reasonably assume that Kamille is the target.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 8, 2023 4:49:52 GMT -5
Everything was wrong with Edgar. From his gait, to the way he handled his daggers. Edgar loved his dagger, he would never make such an amateurs mistake of using his beloved blades to skin a boar, instead of using a proper skinning knife...
Except, of course, that was not his intent. Eirynor was quicker to approach, as "Edgar" was turning on his heels in a swift, smooth move. The half-elf seemed to surprise him, so when he threw his dagger, he managed to throw his aim off: the dagger flew off of his hand, the stactic that it carried raising Eirynor's hairs, but ended up having its course diverted. It cut through the air with abnormal speed, but luckly, instead of sticking squarely on the Witch's chest, it made a huge gash on her arm.
A soft yelp and a curse escaped her lips, as she felt the stactic of the weapon coarsing through her body, tensing her muscles and making her clench her jaw.
Why her body was not responding? Why she couldn't move?
Snow took a defensive position by her side, which she was glad for when more attacks started to roll out of the edge of the forest. This time, a throwing dagger directed at the Witch found its way blocked by Étienne's cane [1], of all things: the ghost dissappeared from where he was, only to stand between her and the attack a moment later. It would seem the dagger hit solid wood when it pierced the ghost's cane, but it dropped to the ground a moment later.
"Dere's t'least two more in the woods. Where's your babysitters?!"
Between the fading paralysis, Shael on the floor and the assailant fighting against Eirynor, the fact the Black Quills were not answering her reaching out to them was one of her main concerns. She managed to press at the gash at her arm, a sharp pain radiating from there. As she pressed it, she felt warm blood quickly cover her hand.
How did this come to pass?
The one fighting Eirynor tried for a moment resist his headlock, and as he did so the half elf would notice how his image shimmered and twisted - certainly some kind of illusion spell. But then he stopped, and Eirynor would feel his hairs standing up: the arcane energies flowed around him, and even in Eirynor's headlock he tried to charge his own body in a lightning armor, sparks warning him of his fate should he take too long to do something about it. If he allowed the assassin to finish the spell, he was going to be electrocuted.
[1]Spirit Guardian: 1 hit prevention used
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Dec 10, 2023 18:32:20 GMT -5
With the assailant held tight in his grapple, Eirynor unfortunately has his hands occupied. Without any means of communicating with Snow or Kamille about what the imposter is up to, Eirynor has limited options on how to defend himself from the electrical charge.
He quickly weighs his options in those few precious moments before the spell matures. There are more enemies with unknown skills hiding in the trees, the Black Quills were likely not coming to their aid, and Shael was already down for the count. He could keep his grip and try to bear with the electrical attack, but chances were he wouldn't survive it and then the imposter would just get up anyway. He could let the assailant go, but then they might disappear into the trees to attack from afar.
It doesn't take him long to decide the best course of action to at least reduce the number of foes they're facing. Pulling one hand away from the imposter, Eirynor grabs the hilt of his sword, draws it, and attempts to run it through their ribs.
Despite his best efforts, the spell still goes off, and electricity courses through the half-elf's body. His hand falls limp at his side as his grip on the assailant goes lax. The tips of his fingers twitch and he struggles to take a breath while his body seizes up, paralyzed.
Snow fires an arrow into the trees following the trajectory of the knife that Etienne blocked with his ghostly cane.
"Lady Kamille, you need to get to safety. I'll provide you whatever cover fire I can."
The catfolk catches a glint of sunlight bouncing off metal flashing between the trees. They quickly notch another arrow and fire into the treeline hoping to pin whoever was skulking through the foliage.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 27, 2023 16:24:22 GMT -5
...how was that happening?!
There were two drakes nearby, three of her Black Quills, three more allies and still someone felt confident enough to attack her? At her own house?
How dare...!
Before her anger flared beyond control, the hairs of her scruff stood up in anticipation, just a hearbeat before the lightning spell went off... and she saw Eirynor's hand, still twitching, on the floor.
Yet, in one last moment before slipping into unconsciousness, Eirynor had managed to stick his sword through the side of his attacker, who instantly doubled over his blade. This would keep him busy for a while, but still didn't look fatal enough: his feet became wobbly, but they did find the ground as he stood up, leaving Eirynor behind. His illusion finally faded, but there was nothing familiar in that face, a man with rough edges and square face she had never seen before. Still, his eyes were locked on the Witch as he drew another dagger with one hand, grabbing at the wound to the side of his torso with the other.
Focused. Determined.
Those were not simple bandits or mercenaries. They methodically took care of her imediate resources before they felt confident to face her. They knew what they were doing. And at this point it was clear to her that she was the target, for the encounter was tailored to strip her of her power and go undetected by most of her abilities.
"Cover me."
Pain shot through her arm, as warm blood ran through her fingers - but if anything, the pain seemed to enrage her, emanating from her in waves of heat. Her bleeding arm still paralyzed, she raised her other arm towards the edge of the forest, and from inside her cloak, a windwhirl of black feathers flew off in a cacophony of croaks and caws [1]. Ravens shot from her towards the forest, and as the birds started to assail the attackers, rustles and rushed steps and grunts started to pop from the woods. It was hard to pinpoint the location because of the noise the ravens made, but at least they seemed to get them distracted enough for the moment.
The ravens would be the least of their problems as the earth itself started to groan. Not far from the edge of the woods, the ground split open. For a minute, it would look like the nearby tree was growing its roots and pulling itself out of the earth...
...and the notion wasn't that far from the truth, as the tree twisted and vines sprout outwards, shaping an ungodly large being with trunks as limbs and slits for eyes. As if the very own forest was standing up to answer the Witch's call, Disaster rose to its full height, groaning loudly as if pulling itself from its own grave.
"Disaster! Protect us!"[2]
[1]Raven storm [2]Arcane activation
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Jan 2, 2024 13:42:15 GMT -5
Snow does as Kamille asks, fully prepared to take hits if they need to, and trusting that the witch would heal them should they survive the ambush.
That was probably what Eirynor was thinking too when he decided to risk getting electrocuted.
The archer does glance down at their fallen comrade. Luckily it doesn't take long for them to see the rise and fall of the paralyzed half-elf's chest.
Still breathing. Good.
The catfolk turns their attention from their ally and the unseen enemies in the treeline to the visible one. Catching the glint of the dagger the assailant wields, they don't hesitate to loose an arrow aimed at their hand wielding the blade.
The assailant dodges to the side, but never takes their eyes off of their main target. The rest of them were just obstacles, but not real threats.
Snow grits their teeth and reaches for another arrow just as the assassin lunges forward to attack Kamille in close combat.
"Shit!"
The catfolk jumps between the two but they don't have the room or speed to notch and fire their arrow. Instead, Snow grips the shaft of their arrow and tries to stab it into the attacker's face. The thought of keeping the man alive so Kamille could question them does cross their mind, but the situation is now too dire and they need to focus on survival first and foremost.
Finally taking his eyes off Kamille and acknowledging the catfolk, the assassin ducks under Snow's arm and goes to slice their chest. The blade cuts through the leather of the catfolk's garb and into their thick undercoat. Thankfully the strike is shallow and gives Snow the chance to swing their bow into the man's legs which causes him to stumble.
It doesn't hinder him for long as there's a twang noise from the bowstring getting knocked loose and he swings his elbow back and cracks it into Snow's head as the catfolk tries to go in for a grapple. Outskilled in close combat, Snow drops to a knee holding their head before the assailant's boot tip appears in their face. Snow tumbles across the ground and holds their snout as blood pours from their nose.
The assailant quickly stab at Kamille while the catfolk is down, but not before she summons Disaster to the field. He pauses and glances at the golem as if reconsidering the situation for a second. A second that is long enough for the blade of a fighting knife to sink deep into his calf from below. The man's eyes dart down to see the teenage dark elf army crawling at his feet. The sleep poison was still making Shael feel pretty groggy but, be it out of sheer stubbornness or spite, she managed to wake up enough to sneak over and jam her blade into him while he was distracted.
"Fuck you, asshole."
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Jan 19, 2024 18:28:17 GMT -5
True to his name, Disaster's appearance is fairly distracting: the ground shakes with each step, an unnatural roar escaping a mouth that resembled more to a gaping crack, alerting and rustling up wildlife in a couple of yards. The golem is not particularly agile, but nothing stands in its way: it cuts through the treeline as if there were no obstacles, pushing away its fellow trees as a mere nuisance. Splinters and leaves rained out from the treeline, and ultimately it became clear the golem left few places for the assassins to hide, as one more rolled out of the woods to avoid its unstoppable rampage.
Once more, and apparently for the last time that day, Étienne crossed the realm of the living to divert the way of the dagger intended at the Witch. His cane stood between the target and the weapon [1], but before another curse could slip from his ghostly lips, his image shimmered and vanished - the enegies that linked the old ancestor to the wold of the living were clearly stretched too thin for him to remain, and so his image dissappeared.
The odds were not looking good for them. Eirynor was down, they couldn't count on Shael, and Snow was getting bodied on the meelee. She couldn’t risk a fireball and have them get even more hurt, and she wouldn’t abandon them after they got hurt for her-
- SCHIIIIIICK -
Another arrow flies from the trees, but this one find its way into the throat of the assassin closest to them, trespassing his neck entirely.
An arrow with black feathers.
Amidst the chaos that Disaster caused, it was easy to miss, but a faint - twang - and then - crack! - came from the trees. And from that direction two other men emerged, wrestling. One of them was a very welcome half-elven face: if only quite a bit beaten up, Allan was trying to keep one of the aggressors on a chose hold, but unlike big and burly Edgar, he didn’t have the frame to keep the assassin under control. Like Snow, he found himself at a disavantage in the meelee. Revealing his position to down one of the attackers costed him greatly, as his bow now laid on the ground, split in half. Apparently Shael's sheer stubborness was enough to give Allan ample time and to safely aim at their attacker. They would get along - if they survived, that is.
Disaster seemed to be having some trouble in his pursuit, as his massive figure couldn’t keep up with the speed of his prey. From where she stood, Kamille could only see the blurred figure of the person the golem was going after, and with a second of deliberation she ended up deciding on casting a spell on Disaster himself: a flourish of the hand and a few words, and despite of his size, Disaster suddenly became much faster [1]. His target didn’t seem to be expecting that, as the golem finally managed to grab them. All she could see then was the general shape of a person flying off in the distance as Disaster victoriously tossed them like a child would toss a ragdoll.
"....GAAAH! B-BOSS!"
The wrestling match between the Black Quill and the assassin wasn’t going on their favor, as the tables seemed to turn. Allan was losing his fight, and a moment after he called out, the assassin managed to sweep the leg under him, pressing him against the ground. He raised an arm, blade in hand, ready to stab him in the back.
"DISASTER! HELP ALLAN!"
Allan's appearance took an immediate danger out of the way, but still didn’t even out the field. With so many people hurt, her mind raced with through the options. Her arm still bled profusely, still stiff from the brushing of the paralyzing lightning.
A fog started to approach from the corners of her mind...
No! You need to keep a clear mind. People are counting on you.
Reaching out in her pocket, she took out more help: the two chess rooks, her already known companions. Whispering words of power to the pieces of chess, she tossed them before her as they quickly grew to become two giant stone gargoyles [2].
Without no further orders, one of them immediately went to body the wounded attacker, finally recovering from Eirynor's blade.
"Sir Prize! Take Eirynor to the house! And Shael too! These two! NOW!"
As the gargoyle went to protect the two, the Witch knelt by Snow's side, ready to start healing him while her summonings and minions wreaked havoc around.
[1]Quicken [2]Gargoyle Rooks: Miss Fortune and Sir Prize
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