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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 27, 2023 19:27:25 GMT -5
The Coldwood was a desolate, hostile place. The sparse availability of food, lack of any real shelter, and bone-chilling winds that blew at regular intervals made it a positively dreadful place for any being to find themselves. Well, any living being, anyway. Sylvari, who was at a strange intersection of life and death, was able to weather the harsh environment considerably easier. Being largely immune to the effects of the weather, and having slaked her thirst fully before venturing to these woods had made her resilient to the land's trials. Besides, the isolation gave her excuse to train more fully than she was able to in the more settled places of the world.
She was still on the hunt for the fabled sage that lived in the Frost Gale, one who might be able to hone her to use her innate powers without them consuming her. The search, thus far, had been fruitless, but Sylvari had not been idle. She had begun to awaken to the dormant access to ice magic within her veins, able to conjure structures of ice and to expedite her travel by coating the soles of her boots with frost.
[Frozen Feet] Such was how she now traveled, skating through piles of snow that she would previously slogged against. Every now and then, she would come upon crevices or gulleys that required her to [Ice Bridge] conjure passages to cross over. She was grateful for the experience and was even having fun with her new method of travel. [Knight, Light as a Feather] Her natural prowess and exceptional balance in her armor made adjusting to the new movement a relatively elementary task, and in virtually no time she was dashing leagues ahead of where she would be without such arcane ability.
As she enjoyed the wind on her face, spared from much of its chill, she had not sensed the forest had grown abnormally quiet, even moreso than usual...
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Post by Nimrod on Sept 27, 2023 20:05:34 GMT -5
These woods are endless. Have they always been here? Why is the Necromancer out here? I should make camp. Will this cold ever end?
Jumbled thoughts ran disjointedly through Nimrod's mind. The man he was and the thing he's rotted into were both more asleep than alert. He collapsed, lifeless, in a snowdrift and waited for his body to right itself. It did not.
The hunter waits. He senses magic on the frigid wind. The cursed Sorcerer must be nearby. Anger burns in him, dim and distant, and the cold saps much of his undead strength.
I'll crush you, Necromancer. Keep coming.
Thoughts were flowing through the skeleton's mind; some aspect of him was calling for his attention even more distantly than his anger. The magic he felt was far stronger than anything he'd encountered in his life; certainly far stronger than the sorcerer that had cursed him. These thoughts could not reach the frozen hunter. He rose.
The hunter grabbed a fallen tree and shouldered it, moving to block the frozen forest path.
"NECROMANCER! I SHALL-" The hunter coughs and sputters, doubling over under the weight of time and rot. Struggling, he declares, "I SHALL HAVE MY REVENGE."
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 27, 2023 22:04:47 GMT -5
Sylvari barely managed to stop her momentum before colliding with the tree trunk that suddenly appeared in her path, the snow beneath where her heels dragged erupting up like a geyser. Was someone speaking just now? I could barely hear such through the wind and snow, but just after the tree fell, I swear I heard a voice.
Sylvari swiveled her head this way and that, alert for danger as she sought the body that carried the strange voice, all the way out here. Finally, she saw him, a hunched and twisted thing leering at her from off the psuedopath between the trees. His skin was greying and looked to be stretched painfully over an angular frame. The armor he wore looked to be rotted away from time and neglect. The mouth that looked to be but leather strips upon his face maintained just enough skin to emulate a displeased scowl, and his eyes were heavy with the weight of madness, revenge, and regret. Most fearsome of all, however, was the thick kanabo this creature sported, which Sylvari knew was hefty enough to split a skull despite its withered condition, keeping with the theme of the thing before her.
Sylvari had no need to wear her customary black and silver veil in this desolate place, so the squinting of her crimson eyes in suspicion and harsh downward turn of her red lips were clearly plain to see. "What manner of abomination are you? Speak fiend, before I cleanse the land of your taint." Sylvari's platinum blonde hair, danced in the freezing wind as she stared daggers into the man, wanting to know if he was friend or foe.
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Post by Nimrod on Sept 28, 2023 21:49:19 GMT -5
For the first time in centuries, the Hunter thought. The Necromancer can't even move that fast. Not even him. What is this power? "What are you?" The Hunter raised his weapon above his head in an ancient, aggressive stance. He remained still. My rotten strength pales against this creature's obvious power, but The Man Who Is Not Me had never run from a fight, and I have not yet learned to be a coward. As the Hunter took the first shaky steps towards combat, it was painfully obvious to him how much he had lost in death. His body almost refused to move. His mind almost refused to think. Despite this, his mind and body had carried him towards combat.
The Hunter approached carefully to the edge of his weapon's range. With painful sluggishness, he dropped, more than swung, the trunk at Sylvari.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 29, 2023 13:09:21 GMT -5
Sylvari dodged the clumsy swing with ease, stepping back well before the blow could land, causing the man to stumble. As she looked down on him, unsavory and rotted as he was, she couldn't help but feel a welling of compassion in her chest. He's obviously not in his right state of mind. I'd think him just a low level undead, but he definitely speaks and has at least some sort of thought process.
"Why do you commit to such weak strikes? Do you think me so pitiful that such a blow would land?" Sylvari shook her head in disappointment. She needed to break through to the man. "Perhaps I startled you, and we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Sylvari Dawnsage, a justiciar of the light. I mean you no harm unless you turn evil upon this land's inhabitants. Tell me what befell you. Perhaps I can help."
An outstretched, gauntleted hand accompanied her words, reaching down to the man where he knelt: a silent offer of help. Sylvari's crimson eyes were blazing, but her face betrayed her sincere intentions.
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Post by Nimrod on Sept 30, 2023 2:14:09 GMT -5
For a moment, as Sylvari talked, Nimrod's eyes looked something like human. "I.. I need to kill.. the Sorcerer." Slowly, Nimrod's body righted itself. "You aren't him. Pfft. 'Of the light,' you say?" He tries to spit, but ends up triggering another brief coughing fit. "Where were you when he tore my family apart; when he destroyed everything I've ever known. Even now, I feel his corrupting influence on the land. On you." He managed to spit something.
Just as quickly, reason fled his eyes. "No. You.. you must be one of his. No one else could wield such power." He must have gotten so much stronger as I slept. Damn him. To be able to command someone of this strength- "Take me to the Necromancer or I'll kill you on my way to him." With uncharacteristic steadiness, the Revenant readied his body. Kanabo upright at his side, he took a sturdy stance. He was growling again. Snow crunched underfoot as he shifted his feet in preparation for a strike. We won't win. This one is strong. "She's a monster." A judge. "A killer." She hasn't killed us yet. "She will." Surely, if you give her reason to judge you. Her offer to parlay battled with the threat she posed as a war waged in their head.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 30, 2023 11:06:22 GMT -5
Sylvari readjusted her one-handed grip on her impressive warhammer [Knight, Master of Combat] as the creature advanced, wary of his strike. She noted the pain in his eyes, the look of someone wronged. She saw the desire for justice within them, justice that had been to this point denied. She saw herself in those eyes, inhuman as they were, as inhuman as she now was.
"I see this Sorcerer has wronged you. I am sorry I was not here to prevent it. Every tragedy I miss is another that stacks up to torment my conscience. I cannot change what has come to pass, but I am willing to journey with you. If we can find this Sorcerer together, I will bring him to his very knees that you may have the last strike of justice that you were denied." Sylvari gave the man a pointed, hard look. "But hear me now: there are not many in the land who would aid you, as you are. Please, do not turn away the hand extended. I do not wish to fight, but if you turn away my offer, I will be forced to deem you a threat to the people I've sworn to protect and cast you back into the earth from whence you came."
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Post by Nimrod on Oct 18, 2023 12:36:15 GMT -5
Across the frozen forestscape, a brutal and cunning ambush predator approaches. The earth shakes with every step, and woodland creatures flee before her. At least, that's the warning Nimrod wished to pass along to this strange Judge. Even now, the wind carries faint yapping to the Hunter. His very soul struggled to lift his kanabo; frozen rage locked in combat with kindling merely left behind in him. At some point, he decided the world was better off without either him or the vampire. He had just lifted his club- off balance for just a moment before his swing.
From the canopy above dropped a shadow. In an instant, Nimrod had fallen on his butt, a Barghest's jaw clamped on his collar bone. It was noticeably smol for a Barghest, and its ears flopped a bit as it jumped back from Nimrod, something in its mouth.
"Damn Runt.. We shouldn't have taught you that." The Hunter's eyes were different. As Nimrod slowly righted himself, he held his Kanabo like a staff. His dog had shaken the parchment wrap off of her treat and was now snacking happily on one of her last pieces of jerky. "Tossed around like a ragdoll- what I get for listening to that chatterbox." Shaking slightly as he clung to his staff, Nimrod looked down at his waiting Judge. "I.. would like to apologize." She's waiting.. She'll attack.. Not with this monster at my side- she wouldn't dare. FIGHT Nimrod stealthily wrapped another square of jerky in parchment, addressing Sylvari as he shuffled into the dog's blind spot.
"We get confused sometimes.. I.. I was hunting the Necromancer who leveled my village and enslaved the world." Not being met with recognition, despair crept into his voice: "No one seems to know who brought about the downfall of everything I know. It is his curse that binds me here. I'm sorry, I wasn't myself when we met. His curse festers in my soul and I cannot rest until I see his corpse for myself." Before the dog finished her jerky, Nimrod had already hidden another one along his hamstring- or where his hamstring would have been. By way of explanation, the Hunter offered: "We met this.. chatterbox, Runt and I.. She wouldn't eat him. Had some jerky she seems.. to like.. She's.. a fearsome predator.. isn't she.." Energy spent, Nimrod's eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly slowly. "Strikes true.. Sneaks well.." Stooping slightly, the Hunter pats Runt's head, his massive hand curling her hears down as she cleans scraps of jerky from the ground. The Hunter crooned, "Good Runt.."
All at once remembering the Judge was there, dual offers of salvation and a brutal end outstretched. "Sorry.. about before.. I thought.. such strength.. usually bad.. So cold.. was going.. west.." The Hunter trailed off uncertainly. Laboring to speak, he sounded out of breath- not that he was breathing, exactly. Now seeming no more dangerous than an old man, he seemed perfectly willing to accept any offers of help or comfort.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Oct 18, 2023 13:31:54 GMT -5
Wary of the Barghest which had arrested her movements since its arrival, Sylvari hesitated a moment before striding forward to support the hunter, bracing strong arms on his body to set him down delicately on the frozen ground. Her eyes never left the beast, which seemed altogether occupied with the strip of meat it was tearing into. Tamed, to some degree at least. Never thought I'd see a pet Barghest, but the world is a wide and varied place.
Sylvari shook her head with a gentle smile at the man offered apology. "There's no need for that, sir. I see that you have been laboring for a while to see justice fulfilled. Slight indiscretions are easily forgiven in light of the circumstances. You say that you are headed west, but you are clearly wearied. Please allow yourself to rest this night, recover your strength, and we will journey together in the morning to see that you receive your due. Would you mind telling me your name, and about this Sorcerer, so that we may devise a plan to strike him down?"
As Sylvari spoke, she noted the Barghest had finished its snack and stalked closer to the pair, staring pointedly, but not overly aggressively at her as she sat by the hunter. She extended a gauntleted hand toward the beast in a conciliatory gesture. Hopefully it doesn't take this to mean I'm offering my hand as its next meal.
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Post by Nimrod on Oct 18, 2023 19:05:15 GMT -5
"My name.." Does it matter.? Do I have one in this world? "I do not believe I have earned a name in the eyes of a stranger such as you, Judge." Nimrod seemed to pick these words carefully, as if each one had an obvious, implied meaning. He did not elaborate further. The Runt, after finishing her snack, took an interest in the Judge. She limped over (favoring her front right paw) and sniffed an offered hand. Finding some unknowable condition acceptable, she flopped down and curled up between the two of them.
"The man.. I hunt.. is called.. the Necromancer." The cold air took on a slight unnatural chill at the mention of the name- at least, the Hunter thought so. "The Sorcerer.. He ruled.. everything.. save the corners of the world.. How quickly his terror.. faded from memory.. so it seems..."
I need to check on my people. The descendants of any survivors would have fled back there after our last stand faltered. Nimrod looks at his hands, skin clinging to a skeletal frame. Not much by way of power there. Everything I return to them with: the Runt. How pitiful I am. That I would endeavor to keep this Runt alive and well. How silly. What a pitiful goal for one of my strength..
"I need to find.. my people.. to the east.." Would I even recognize them? Would they, me? 'Legends tell of an ancient, sad, would-be hero who fell like nothing to the Wizard, who's passing from memory signified nothing.' Yes.. we shall look for the people.. with that legend.. What else can we do.?
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Oct 18, 2023 19:23:18 GMT -5
Sylvari fought a blush, feeling over-praised by the same skeletal hunter who had just endeavored to kill her moments ago. She waved her hand dismissively. "Please, my dear, none of that. I'm not so exalted to be referred to by title only. Sylvari is just fine, or Sylvi if you're partial to it. In the meantime, unless you wish me to keep using meaningless niceties to refer to you, darling, I'll need something to call you, deserved or not."
Sylvari noted with delight that Runt had slipped into a curled position between the pair where they sat. She brought a gauntleted hand lightly over the Barghest, petting it soothingly. Her heart ached to take a look at the seemingly injured paw it kept of the ground, but she was not familiar enough with animal biology to be of much help. Moreover, petting a creature was still a far sight from tending to active hurts. Sylvari merely hoped some rest would do it good, consolingly rubbing the beast as it slipped into slumber. She continued speaking to the hunter.
"This Necromancer you speak of: I admit I do not know of a practitioner of the dark arts with such sovereignty in this area for quite some time, but then, my birthplace is far from here and my people isolated in their scope. It's possible I'm simply ignorant of the history." Sylvari noted the hunter's change in conversation as he talked about finding his people.
"Whether you wish to find your people, or enact justice in the morning, I swear I shall accompany you to journey's end." Calling upon an oath that had become all too familiar to her in her travels, she adjusted her position to kneel before the man who would be on the brink of death. "I vow to be the shield that defends you, the sword at your hip to strike at your foes, and the warmth in your heart to raise your spirits for as long as our pact shall stand."
Her words were spoken with such import that one might have been forgiven for thinking is facetious, were it not for the gravitas in her tone and the blazing sincerity in her crimson eyes.
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Post by Nimrod on Oct 28, 2023 13:49:45 GMT -5
"Sylvi, then.." the Hunter began, "I suppose.. I'll be Nimrod. It was my name.. once." In contemplative silence, he listened to Sylvari. At her vow, he was taken aback. Why would she care about one as pitiful as me? I've long-since lost the right to call myself Nimrod. Yet.. I am a hunter.. I know. My bones cannot rest until I know the Sorcerer's fate. Nimrod looked silently back at Sylvari. She could do more in a day than we could in months. We can find him.. on our own.. Not with the Runt around. We won't take this road alone. You'll just have to get used to it."I.. see. There are far more people championing justice in the world than I seem to recall." His eyes flared to life- dull, blue light smiling out from his rotten face. His movements seemed less stiff, and his words "Perhaps my journey home will not be so fraught with hardship as the one here. I would be a fool to scorn your offer of assistance." His voice tinted by a desire for the strength he once had and a longing for all he has lost, Nimrod could finally admit that he needed help. Before I fell, I led my people with strength and wisdom. Why, now, do I eschew that very wisdom? The Necromancer's hold on my soul must run deep. What other reason could there be?"I think, Sylvi.. I need to rest a bit. Since I have accepted your assistance-" Nimrod coughs for a fair few seconds. "I wouldn't suppose you've any food?"
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Oct 30, 2023 9:41:41 GMT -5
Sylvari smiled and nodded at the hunter's introduction. "Nimrod, then. A pleasure to properly meet you." Her smile was wide enough to show the elongated points of her fangs.
At Nimrod's proclamation at the prevalence of justiciars, Sylvari had to stifle a small laugh. "I'm sorry, I don't mean find humor at the expense of your ignorance, but I wouldn't say there are many who seek justice in this world. Of course, I follow this course because I believe in the potential of good for mortals, but a great many are determined to buck this faith with evil actions. A great many more simply do whatever is expedient in the moment. I hope that my example, and that of others like me, might spur the masses towards more goodly living, but I suspect the lingering effects of my service won't be fully realized in my lifetime."
Far from the depressing nature of her words, Sylvari's tone and visage spoke of a pervading fondness for the idea, as if the justiciar was happy that her legacy would survive her grave. She looked over with a smile at Nimrod's request for food, retrieving a small bundle from her pack of hardened bread and dried meat.
"Sorry I don't have anything more appetizing, but you are welcome to whatever I do have."
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