Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
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Post by Bryn on Jan 18, 2017 15:47:40 GMT -6
Althea's words cut through Bryn's momentary paralysis and his mind began preforming frantic leaps of logic, no time for a proper hypothesis to form. If the balance of a spell was broken, either by an ebb of power or an overload as Althea suggested, it was quite possible for the spell to misfire. This was partially the reason why magicians casting advanced-grade magic were so protected in combat. Could the same principle be applied to an already active and running sigil?
"It's as good an idea as any. Keep some distance in between them!"
It was an interesting experience, casting so close to another shaman. Bryn began forming another sphere in his hand and he could feel the Nether swirl and rush around them both, picking up in intensity as they called upon it's power. He shot this new orb at same armor his companion had, trying to combine their two individual power to hopefully compound whatever harm they could manage to inflict upon it. He had little time to inspect the effects of his attack however, as something much stranger had caught his attention. He could see the outline of the room they had come from.
Bryn wished he could give a gasp of appreciation as he realised runes in the walls were giving off a faint luminescence, unlike when they had passed that way before. Their dire situation didn't allow time for his admiration however, and the implications inherent in the fact that these sigils had begun to glow after the statues had activated were unsettling.
During this distraction the first statue had completed it's careful descent and began charging to engage the closest adversary. Althea. It's greatsword rose into the air as it engaged the woman, the blade flashing crimson as it reflected the torchlight in a way it's armor could not. Then it came crashing down.
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Post by Althea on Jan 19, 2017 23:23:33 GMT -6
Pfft. As good an idea as any. Althea almost bristled a little bit at the casual dismissal in his words. She had been proud of that idea! It was a good one! Circe had been a horrible influence on her, she was supposed to be entirely above this emotional pride silliness, but it was... hard during times of stress. And by the sun, earth, sky, saint, and Nether alike, she was pretty daaaaa...rn stressed lately. Having a pair of animate bloody objects trying to kill her and her current best friend in the world - the guy who thought her ideas were 'okay at best' to paraphrase slightly.
Could she let him get stabbed without being the bad guy here? Hmm... no, probably not, appropriate consequences and that piddling annoying little thing called a conscience. She held back the urge to sigh theatrically. Apparently stress REALLY brought out the crazy in her. But at the same time, it didn't... completely shut off her brain, so she did see Bryn's own Flux attack hit the armor, and this time without her focus swallowed by her own casting, she did see it stop for sure, almost seizing up she thought. However, there was still no obvious damage, and it resumed moving shortly after.
So... they were effectively immune to the directly damaging effects of magic, but not entirely invulnerable to its aftereffects...? Althea couldn't help but wonder, the inner scholar in her coming to life, if they might not just be COMPLETELY immune to Anima magic and only vulnerable to the aftereffects of Elder due to its ties to their source of animation, and if so, what would light magic do to it? Unfortunately, they didn't have any Anima users nearby to rigorously and scientifically test that theory to ascertain its validity... could they go get more? No, the sane part of her head supplied, just study their corpses afterwards. Did they even have corpses? Probably sort of. Maybe. They would have to check afterwards.
Oh yeah and one of them was about to kill her.
Some small part of her brain actually did note the walls starting to light up, and began trying to calculate if it was some sort of natural bioluminescence triggered by activity in the chamber, while another larger portion argued that no, it was probably magical in origin, potentially linked to pressure plates in the floor or motion sensors of some sort or maybe linked to the statues coming to life. The rest of it was too busy screaming OH- well, whatever she had been abotu to say was lost to eternity, but it was probably a safe bet that the usually subdued mage had not been about to say 'oh deary me.'
She squeaked in a fairly nonthreatening manner and fell over backwards to avoid the flashing sword, which did have the pleasant side effect of NOT being instantly killed, Althea was acutely aware that her sword resistance was in the bottom percentage of mages, but also came with the unfortunate side effect of currently sitting on her ass on a very dusty floor staring up at an angry (could they get angry?) statue that seemed interested in repeating the process. Right! Yes, there had been two statues, and she and Bryn had been so focused on the one that - "Brynnnn," she wailed, scrambling upright to avoid the followup downwards slash unpleasantly narrowly. She couldn't cast like this. "Do something!"
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Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
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Post by Bryn on Jan 23, 2017 20:52:06 GMT -6
"Why are you like this!?"
Bryn scuttled within arms reach of Althea and grabbed a fist full of Althea's outfit before yanking her backwards towards the center of the room they were skirting. If life-threatening danger wasn't enough of an incentive to run from the enemy then he wasn't sure how else he could get her out of reach. Either she moved with him, or this situation was going to get a lot more awkward.
The chamber emitted a soft light from glyphs all across it's surface; connected in a vast array of geometric circles with pockets of isolated runes defining the limits and restrictions of the formation. More than a dozen stone pillars rose in the room; some cracked, toppled, and unlit, but others glowed with varying brightness, their stonework carved intricately with more and more complex sigils. Bryn couldn't understand the language, nor could he infer the purpose of such a complex spell formation, but as he got closer to the center he could taste a blackness on his tongue that was definitely of the Nether. It was little comfort to him at the moment though. Without knowing what the chamber was built for this magic could kill him just as easily as the armors could. Speaking of which...
The armors' advance seemed uninhibited by whatever the room was up to. That being said, despite their fluid locomotion and near silent movement the black statues were slow. From what Bryn had seen as they had swiped at Althea to the ponderous descent both had shown, if they needed to abandon the exploration they could. The option of escape did wonders to Bryn's self-confidence. These automatons weren't flawless executioners. They were merely a tool made by an ancient civilization, long since forgotten to time. How powerful could they possibly be?
Bryn shot another bolt at the closest statue, only to watch it shudder once and continue forward. Right. They still had that infuriating resistance to deal with.
"We need to immobilize or disable one of the armors or else they'll eventually corner us. If you get into trouble take the stairs. They might follow you but they seem poor on slopes."
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Post by Althea on Jan 24, 2017 0:43:31 GMT -6
"W-what do you mean, 'like this?'"
The usually mild-mannered shaman fired back with about the most overt emotion she'd displayed this topic adventure, sounding almost as offended as she was hurt by the very notion of what he was implying. Er, whatever it was he was implying, she wasn't actually sure, but it definitely sounded bad! And that was bad. Probably. Whatever it was, it was definitely rude, very rude. He must have been raised in a - a barn or something, or maybe that was a bit too mean to say. At any rate he did seem to have pulled her back from the immediate threat, which was definitely appreciated, and also very useful because otherwise the distracted shaman would have been COMPLETELY immobilized by the sudden appearance of the room doing about twenty things at once.
Glowing she could live with, maybe, but she nearly tripped over one of the stone pillars popping up out of the bloody floor, drawing an angry squeak and the... nearness of an expletive to her tongue, though as per the usual Althea balked at actually offering it up to the gods of sound. She was VERY confused right now, and intrigued, mostly intrigued. Especially when she could begin to taste the dark magic seeping into the world around them. Wait... that was probably bad, like, really bad. 'About to be sacrificed to the darkness' or 'about to summon an Elibe-destroying weapon' bad... maybe.
"Bryn! This is amazing! The magic here - it's incredible - we can't RUN, we should be studyin-" Oh! Right. She had been about to say something else. "Wait, no, I meant to say that if we both hit one of the statues simultaneously, maybe we can overload it?" Her voice was questioning rather than filled with the boundless confidence of an eternity of experience or the unending charisma that the two of them, uh, lacked, but she continued nonetheless as her mind tried to work. "If they have a limit to how much magic they can take it once, it'll take both of us working together to break it! I think." And there it was again, the occasionally awkward shaman stepping on her own toes, metaphorically spea-OW no it was also literally speaking. Dammit.
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Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
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Post by Bryn on Jan 28, 2017 20:07:34 GMT -6
A limit? The things Althea were saying seemed to be sound. A strong enough jolt could pop the metaphorical 'bubble' containing the magic of the suits of armor... if indeed they were built in such a fashion. At this point however, Bryn was flumoxed by the statues and any solution no matter how theoretical, was appreciated.
"So it'll be a stronger version of what we've been attempting then? I'm on board."
Closing his eyes, Bryn sought to find the place within himself his mother had first created. A small inky pulse, the inaudible echo of blackness. He wasn't all that proficient in funneling large amounts of the Nether through himself, though he had completed his early studies under instruction and familial guidance. His earlier flourishes had been as much technique as raw power; a dip of the toe into frigid waters. They didn't need technique. It was time to submerge himself.
Bryn spread his feet and brought his hands together; touching his index, middle, and thumb fingers together in a practiced pose. The pulse inside of him leapt. His hearing came in and out of focus and Bryn could feel the currents in the room shift as he focused on opening himself up. In a moment of clarity Bryn realized that while he was feeding off of this ambient energy, sections of the chamber were doing roughly the same thing. Putting this fact aside as his trance deepened, Bryn opened his eyes. The world around him was void of color. His cloak whipped around his form, thrown around by gusts that his skin couldn't feel. Hands spread without his knowledge, Bryn watch as the ball in between them swirled and gorged itself with what he had to offer.
"I-I'm ready. Say the word."
Holding the quivering darkness at the ready, Bryn realized that the armors were closing in now. One lagged behind the other but even if they managed to disable the closest figure the other would be on them before they could form another joint attack. Perhaps they should ha-... He stopped himself, his self-preservation instincts frighteningly easy to cast aside. Second guessing at this point was foolish. All he could do was follow through.
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