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Post by Donovan on Jan 6, 2017 1:00:34 GMT -6
Bandits. I never thought I would have missed bandits The mercenary thought to himself as the axe of the bandit was thrown off course by Fragarach’s coating of wind. He’d spent so much time fighting monsters and skeletons and other supernatural malicious creatures that he’d forgotten how… cathartic it was to fight something that wasn’t trying to turn you into a member of its undead army. At least all a bandit wanted was your good and maybe your life.
This bastard seemed to have gotten his hands on a brave axe, though. Before Don had begun to swing the ancient sword, the Bandit had reared back for a second strike, managing to attack as Don raised his blade for a vertical strike. As such, the second blow swung under the wind guard and avoided it’s innate parry. Thankfully, the attack came from the left side and the Silver Tongue was able to raise his shield in time to absorb the hit. Though it certainly did send a tingle up his arm as the powerful blow landed.
You can’t just rely on my powers, Liar. Don’t underestimate your opponents just because you wield me. Why the hell do you think I keep a shield, Frag? The bandit had leapt back as Don swung Fragarach down. The blow, while minimally damaging, disrupted the mercenary’s attack sufficiently enough to make it easily avoidable. Except the bandit fell for the same mistake as the mercenary and did not expect Fragarach to be as light weight as it was. Nor did the man expect the blade to be able to strike from a distance. Donovan pointed the tip of the sword at the man’s chest and summoned a blast of wind that hit the Bandit squarely in the chest and sent him flying several feet, landing hard on his back.
Prepare for the combat info paragraph Donovan took the time to survey the battlefield. There were only a handful of people fighting, though all seemed fairly proficient in their field of battle. Doogan, the Halberdier, was locked in combat with a Yeoman who had an armor slayer. Doogan’d have to be careful of that one, he was more used to tanking damage than dodging it - as the wounds he’d already received seemed to show.
But Brandon was in more danger still, as the cavalier was facing off against a Sage. Now while the horse rider had grown much more skilled as time went by, he’d certainly need help and need help soon against such a skilled foe. Don doubted that the Sage could be particularly focused on the fight if Brandon was so easily able to avoid his attacks. With how the other two were fighting, it was likely that the bandit sage was using Luce to bolster their morale and nullify their pain. The Cavalier was lucky that they were attacked on an open field that he had space to move around on.
The Bandit had gotten back to his feet and began to charge at Donovan with his brave axe, so the mercenary begrudgingly readied himself for another melee and muttered to himself, “I don’t have time to entertain you fools, we’ve got a job to get to.”
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 6, 2017 15:04:55 GMT -6
Etruria had not been the magical haven that Morrigan had hoped for. Rather, if anything, it was more the symbol of Elibe's current nightmare. Kraft's was the machine that created war, causing men and women who may otherwise be good to take up the name of a legendary pacifist (aside from her whole “killing dragons during Scouring” stint) as an excuse to purge non-believers. The home of a maniacal tyrant who burned away information, to keep his subjects ignorant and weak.
It always felt so strange to see it that way. A weak people made for a weak nation. It was only a matter of time before Elibe was able to capitalize on that, until the machine began to break down in a way that could not be fixed on time.
But Morrigan, admittedly, had not put her thoughts onto such things. Etruria was worrisome, yes, but moreover was the absolute lack of knowledge she had found there. The magical communities she had found had taken very little interest in the Convent, for one reason or another, and most archives were devoid of anything truly valuable. Nothing on the retrieval of consciousness from the greedy maw of the Nether.
Given the utter failure and how...unsettling...the atmosphere in Etruria was if you were an outsider who knew a bit of the truth, worse still if you practiced Elder Magic, Morrigan had experienced no desire to stay. Instead she made a return to Lycia in an attempt to start fresh, figure out her next destination. As far as she could tell if Etruria did not have her answer than neither Sacae, Ilia, nor Bern had a good chance either. They would also likely hold even less interest in her homeland, given the sheer distance the Isles were from them, let alone the focus on magic.
Really the only truly good thing to come from her Etrurian endeavor had been the blonde haired woman: Shara.
Though she had spent most of her time in Ryerde at an inn, reading what few interesting texts she could find. Even that reading had done little to help her, unfortunately, so instead she had taken the chance to go for a long walk. Perhaps the familiarity of nature, even in an unfamiliar land, would help her clear her mind.
Well...she hadn't been wrong, but she also hadn't expected this.
Morrigan had stumbled upon a battlefield. A lovely field tucked away at the other side of the woods she had walked through, complete with hills and a few stray rock formations, but a battlefield all the sam. There seemed to be three men fighting four, in what appeared to be more of a chaotic dogfight than a proper organized skirmish. Granted Morrigan hadn't seen many of the latter, but her fair share of the former.
She kept to the edge of the woods and watched carefully. Frankly she...didn't want any part of it. Morrigan could not tell if the men were soldiers, mercenaries, bandits, or what. She could barely tell one side from the other, and she dared not risk getting closer lest all 7 of them turned on her.
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Post by Donovan on Jan 6, 2017 18:58:51 GMT -6
Brandon urged Franz onward as the sage launched another fireball in his direction. The Sage was quite skilled, but didn’t seem to be focused primarily on him, as she was focusing more so on the sage she seemed to be casting on her allies.. It frustrated the cavalier to be so little of a concern to this magic user, he thought it was time to show her what he could do. He took a javelin from it’s quiver, aimed, and flung the light spear at the Sage’s direction. She noticed at the last second, but managed to get out of the way just in time. The spear’s tip pinning the bottom of her robes to the earth.
“Finish these fools before this boy gets lucky. And try not to harm their armor too much.” The sage pleaded as an employer would to her doltish underlings, “They won’t sell for much if you destroy the chest plate like you did last time Gundren!” The bandit swung down at Donovan with its brave axe and shouted “Yeah, yeah. I know my business, just try not to become a pincushion, Dalia.”
The Silver Tongue side stepped Gundren (apparently the name of the bandit he was fighting) and clocked him in the head with Fragarach’s pommel. “Hey Doogan, try not to kill these fools too much. There might be a bounty on bandits in the area, we could definitely use the extra gold.” Gundren fell to the ground hard, but pushed himself back to his feet immediately, almost like he hadn’t felt it. Despite the blood leaking from his temple.
“You can’t win this fight, boy.” Dalia, the sage, said something again and a surge of light erupted from her and washed over her allies. Gundren started swinging again with renewed ferocity. Carving down with each attack. Fragarach blew aside his first attack and Don knocked aside the second before the mercenary launched into an attack of his own. Launching a blast of air at the Bandit and sending him flying back again.
But the Bandit rebounded again as if it were nothing, running at Don like a madman. “Oh you have got to be kidding me. Just stay down!”
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 6, 2017 23:22:30 GMT -6
The melee continued, and Morrigan studied the battle warily. Truly she wanted to move past, but she didn't want to be sucked into the conflict. Perhaps she would simply have to turn around. In fact, she would have, had it not been for some sheer luck. One man, with dark grey hair and a rather odd looking sword, made a comment that Morrigan had heard over the sounds of the battle. Bounties for bandits...and to not kill them. Quite the different tone from the woman who had spoken before him, with her primary concern being to not “harm their armor”.
So it was a group of...something. Likely mercenaries. Against a group of potential bandits. Small, but skilled, the woman had cas light magic. Morrigan deduced it as Luce just by the nature of the light, failing to harm any of the mercenaries all while it washed over the bandit. It proved to be quite potent, as the man had begun to fight with renewed vigor.
Morrigan was no mercenary. She had no desire to collect gold from any bounties. That said she...would feel terrible if she simply passed by a skirmish that involved known bandits. What if she left and the bandits won? Not only would the mercenaries suffer, but likely the locals as well. They could claim the lives of countless victims before finally being stopped one way or another. That possibility was unacceptable, for Morrigan's hands would be as bloody as those of the bandits.
For evil triumphs when good people do nothing.
Morrigan already knew her target. The magus woman. Her casting of Luce allowed the axeman and the swordsman that appeared to be under her employ to apply a great deal of pressure on two of the mercenaries. The other merc, who appeared to be on horseback, was doing his damnest to pressure off or outright eliminate the Sage, but he hadn't succeeded yet. After that cast of Luce she would have more time to focus on him, and if her Luce was that effective then surely her offensive magic would be as well.
The sorceress knew her strengths and experience. For all the mercenary work done for the Convent, Morrigan had always performed best against another magic user. Besides, Luce was a problem for them all. Remove the caster, and the spell would no longer be a hindrance. The axeman and swordsman could be isolated and finished off. To make matters better Morrigan DID have the element of surprise on her side, for she had remained within the treeline.
Now, though, she stepped out of the trees and onto the battlefield. She needed to take herself in range to cast against the enemy magus, and keep her in sight. Luna would be particularly effective, but Morrigan would need to close the gap between her and the Sage. The breath of the bear began to tickle the back of her neck as a silent connection opened up. Fiery black magic began to flare around her hands, flickering against the wind. The sensation was cold, but Morrigan paid it no mind. She was merely a conduit. A director of the Nether, and no more.
As she walked forward, her path set directly towards the enemy Sage yet as far from the other fighters as she could, a small black portal would open beneath the Sage's feet. Slowly the Flux spell would expand, inky black tendrils shooting up to form a mishapen sphere above the Sage's head. A container of raw nether, in sense, that would crack open and spill its pitch black contents down upon her intended victim.
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Post by Donovan on Jan 7, 2017 0:04:35 GMT -6
“Fine if you want to do this the hard way, we can.” Donovan swung the sword low at the Bandit’s legs and released a hard gust of wind that knocked Gundren’s feet out from beneath him. He fell hard on his face. The Bandit once again sprang back to his feet and continued his charge. Closing the distance and nearly making it to the mercenary’s position, before falling again as the mercenary almost lazily swiped the sword again. Gundren stumbled this time but continued through the attack, but his attack was met with a deft block. As was his follow up attack. Don had never fought someone under the influence of Luce, and thus had no idea why anyone would fight with such ferocity for some easy banditry.
“Buddy, can you just surrender now so we can go along our way? This won’t end well for any of you.” The bandit swung again and made contact with nothing but the air, once more. This time, however, Donovan slashed at the man’s forearm and tore at the man’s tricep. The ancient sword made easy work of the foolishly unarmored bandit’s arm. Though, surprisingly, his grip on the axe seemed to remain solid, even though his muscles should have been so damaged that it could no longer hold onto anything.
The mercenary was too close for Gundren to hit with his axe, so the bandit swung his injured arm and backhanded the black haired fellow, slamming him in the cheek. This fight wasn’t like the others the bandits had attacked. Most people would land a lucky strike here or there, but none were ever so good as to hold out this long. Let alone pose such a threat to their trio. Luce was able to displace the pain and bolster their ferocity, but it wouldn’t save him if he kept getting hit like that.
Donovan fell hard. The bandit shouldn’t have been able to strike with that arm, the pain should have been far too intense. Frankly, he was starting to get annoyed. Sure it would be nice to not murder these fools but they were starting to wear his patience thin. Then do something about it. Show them what you’re capable of. Gundren swung down at Donovan to try and finish the prone mercenary, so Donovan sent a slightly overboard jet stream of wind at the mercenary, hitting the man in the chest and sending him straight into the air before he fell down to the ground with a sickening crunch as the bandit landed hard on his leg.
Don pushed himself up to a disturbing site. Gundren stood, though his leg was bent the wrong way and the bandit’s left knee was clearly broken and pointing in the opposite direction of what was, well, healthy. Don gaged a little at the sight, though his enemy didn’t seem to notice as he ran at Donovan as if he didn’t realize that he desperately needed medical attention.
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 7, 2017 19:44:28 GMT -6
The Sage, Dalia, had managed to wrench the javelin free from dress. As such there was nothing to stop her from stumbling forward the moment the tendrils of nether erupted around her feet. A spell she had planned to cast at the horseman, crackling blue lightning, dissipated from the distraction. Better still was that Dalia had moved forward, a few steps closer to Morrigan. The two couldn't be more than twenty feet apart by the time Dalia straightened herself.
“Gah! You! Who are you?” As quickly as it had been dissipated that lightning began to dance across her fingertips. It was too simple, though, and lacked the overall display of raw power Thoron tended to carry with it. Basic electrical magic from the Trinity tome, then? Perhaps the Sage had yet to practicer or learn any advanced spells from the Anima tree.
“Morrigan, of the Western Isles.” Perhaps it was foolish to answer the sage's question, but ultimately Morrigan wanted to avoid conflict. Perhaps her interference would force the sage to reconsider? No, idealistic. Morrigan didn't know how many crimes this sage and her band had comitted. To surrender, to them, could be tantamount to death anyway.
Perhaps it just...eased her mind. To be forthcoming to one whose life she was undoubtedly about to end, directly or indirectly.
“Then what business do you have here? Did these mercenaries hire you?” The question was triple-barreled, the third shot in actuality a fairly thick bolt of lightning. Fast, faster than a mere Flux spell could counter, Morrigan nonetheless began to channel another one whilst pivoting. The lightning arced past her body, the heat it produced briefly flared across her cheek. Close...
Morrigan's spell finished soon after, though. Her connection with the Nether had already been established, and subsequent Flux spells would take less-time than the first. In this instance she had conjured three spheres of raw nether above her head, each one far more stable than the large sphere she had cast prior. As Morrigan moved closer she fired the three spheres. One at the woman's right, and then again at her left, forcing her to dance side to side. Morrigan's strategy hinged on her ability to prevent Dalia's retreat...and the mercenaries' ability to keep Dalia's men away from her.
Morrigan could afford to spare little attention on the mercenaries, she knew that. Going toe to toe with a respectably powerful magus required full focus, especially given how she had identified the condition of her victory: Luna. More specifically it would be CQC, Close Quaters Casting. The Convent had always stressed the importance of movements and physicality in magic. If you were not channeling an incredibly powerful spell, then there was no reason for one to be moving without purpose. Strike with your magic, and position yourself advantageously.
Hence the black fire that continued to hum and flare around her hands. Once Morrigan was in striking range, she could take down Dalia in a double-pronged assault. It was highly unlikely her style of casting was prepared for Morrigan's...she hoped.
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Post by Donovan on Jan 8, 2017 18:28:12 GMT -6
Brandon was relieved when the Druid that had walked out of the forrest went to attack the Sage, Dalia. While riding a horse was a benefit to fighting magic users, since it allowed you to close the distance into close combat better, Franz was still very afraid of magic — and frankly, so was the horse’s rider. Many Lycians were wary about any form of magic but healing magic because of Etruria and what happened with Ostia.
As the next wave of Luce washed over the bandits, the Yeoman struck the sturdy halberdier’s shield and continued to ignore the many lacerations that they’d received. Doogan would have been holding his own quite handedly, had it not been for the Sage’s magic buff. The distance benefit of using a lance went out the window when your enemy didn’t even seem to notice the wounds you inflict upon them. With deft speed, the Yeoman pinned Doogan’s lance to the ground with their sword before swinging up to cut at the mans throat. Brandon noticed just in time and launched a javelin at the yeoman, who saw the incoming spear and was forced to pull back his attack or be run through the chest. “f**k this bastard’s fast! Why don’t they get hurt?”
The Silver Tongue met the bandit’s battle axe mid swing and the two weapons clashed. The metals rang out and sang. But Donovan did not wait for the note to end before dragging the ancient blade across the brave axe and letting his opponent's weapon fall to the ground, digging into the dirt bellow. His opponent tried to raise the axe, but was too slow - even with his weapon’s strangely light alloy. Donovan had had enough of trying to spare the man’s body, so he swung down quickly and cleaning, removing the Bandit’s right hand in a quick strike.
Looking at his bleeding stump with disbelief, the man again seemed shockingly unfazed, He reared up and punched Donovan in the face with his bloody stump arm. “WHAT THE BLOODY F**K IS WRONG WITH YOU?” The mercenary, face now covered in blood, smashed the man’s face hard with Fragarach’s pommel and knocked him onto the ground. The mercenary followed quickly, pinning the bandit’s arms to the ground with his legs and holding Fragarach next to his enemy’s face. “Go to sleep.” The voice was strange and not his own. He supposed he’d let Frag get away with it this time. It’s the same dumb line Donovan would have said himself.
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 8, 2017 23:49:59 GMT -6
Dalia had succeeded in side-stepping each of the black orbs as they came, but by the time the first had fired another had formed in its place. Morrigan fully intended to keep this barrage going. Given it simply required the use of the Flux spell, it was not all that draining. Each orb lacked the power to cause fatal damage, but if she did strike she would be able to cancel her Flux casting and rush in for the finish with Luna.
Alternatively, if she failed to land a hit with Flux, it still kept Dalia busy until Morrigan had fully closed the gap.
“Urgh, enough of this!” Despite being locked in combat, Dalia appeared to be a talker. Morrigan was the opposite. She preferred to say as little as possible, and keep her focus on the fight itself. Too much talk was distracting, and when one was channeling the Nether, a distraction could lead to creating a very costly error.
Dalia put her hands together after she hopped to the side and launched a fair sized fireball from her hands. It was no Volcanon spell, but powerful use of the Trinity fire magic all the same. Twin Flux spheres combined above Morrigan's head and rocketed forth to meet the fireball, causing a collision directly between the two magi. The resulting explosion kicked up grass and debris, leaving a cloud of dust and smoke wafting Morrigan's way. There was a distinct whiff of sulfur as well, an occasional remnant of what happened with Fire magic made contact with the Nether.
Her Luna spell still prepped, Morrigan opted to walk through the cloud of dust. When she exited out the other side she would be just a few more steps away from her target. However, once she cleared the dust cloud, a blinding flash of light met her on the other end. Morrigan threw her hands up to cover her eyes, though she felt a chill shoot up her spine.
That had been Luce, no doubt. Cast against her. The spell was strange, utilizing light to instill unease or even outright terror in one's enemy. Morrigan was not a stranger to the spell, though, but it had forced her to hesitate longer than she'd liked. Upon hearing a distinct crackling sound she leaped aside, dodging another bolt of Dalia's lightning. Morrigan landed on her hands and knees, wincing slightly at the collision. Definitely hurt less than that magic would have.
“Would you just die already!” The Sage snarled, blue electricity arcing off her body and zipping towards Morrigan. Already in a rather precarious position Morrigan could only throw herself forward, letting out a cry as some lightning arced across her leg. It burned like hell, and the flesh around the wound soon went numb. However the pain urged Morrigan onward as she scrambled to her feet. Even with a slight limp she ought to be able to handle this Sage. “Stay down!”
In a final act of desperation Dalia threw her arms up. The electricity around her body dispersed, and instead a hard gale burst into Morrigan's face. It tossed her hair to and fro, and halted her step for a moment, but it had been too little...and too late. Morrigan reached out and grabbed Dalia's arm tightly. The black flame around her hand began to spread across the Sage's body, and her eyes widened at the realization.
She was in trouble now.
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Post by Donovan on Jan 9, 2017 1:42:39 GMT -6
Doogan looked in shock at the Yeoman. How the swordsman had gotten so close to landing a fatal blow didn’t add up with the Halberdier. He gave the horse riding youth a grateful look before thrusting his lance at the mad man they were combating. The yeoman spun out of the way and moved to close the distance between himself and the lance wielder. The sound of charging hoofs made the yeoman turn around just in time to see the pointy end of a silver sword arc toward him. He took Brandon’s strike straight in the chest, his chainmail sparing him immediate death and Dalia’s luce magic bolstering him through registering the pain. But nothing stopped the force of being hit by a cavalier on horseback from throwing him off his feet.
Doogan laughed himself quickly pinning his lance straight through the yeoman’s leg and into the earth beneath him. “You’re not going anywhere this time, you slick bastard.” Doogan said as he drew his steel blade. The Yeoman tried to lift himself up, despite the weapon in his leg, swung his sword wildly at Doogan. Brandon dismounted his horse and took swung his lance at the downed swordsman’s blade, knocking it out of his hands.
Donovan stood over the now unconscious and one handed Bandit and cracked his neck before turning to see a raven haired woman wielding elder magic locked in combat with the enemy sage. He supposed he was grateful for the extra help, but he did wonder where such a competent fighter came from. Brandon’s voice rang out from near Doogan, and Donovan turned to see the pair had defeated the yeoman. Though the crazed man was still trying to attack Doogan, despite having neither sword nor bow on hand and having a lance driven into his leg. Donovan ran over and pointed Frag at the maniacal man. “You two hold his arms down. I’ll knock him out.” The other men grabbed the yeoman’s arms and Donovan held Frag above their enemy’s head, sucking the air away from his face. After a few struggling moments, the yeoman was unconscious as well. And Donovan was free to turn around and aide the Druid, should she even need the help.
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 9, 2017 16:56:44 GMT -6
The ambient sounds of battle had begun to die down, and the cause as to why did not escape Dalia's notice. Her men, even with her full powered Luce to bolster their might and will they had been overwhelmed by the superior numbers and skill of the mercenaries. This distraction, however, was momentary at best. For the black flame of Morrigan's Luna continued to spread throughout her body, seeping into her very mind and soul. The pain that began to wrack her being was indescribable, like heartache amplified three-fold.
Morrigan drove a fist into Dalia's sternum, forcing more of her magic into the Sage's body, which made the Sage double over. An easy take-down now, Morrigan dropped an elbow down onto the back of the sage's head, the blow strong enough force Dalia down to the ground, head first. Luna's black flames continued to lick and spread across her flesh, yet they did not leave any burns. In fact the flames were colder than the winds of Northern Ilia, as if they sapped the warmth and strength from the Sage, leaving only a deep pain in their wake.
“Yield. You've already lost.” Morrigan did not enjoy the use of Luna. It was a very potent spell, and her utilization of it had won her several duels back at the Convent, but she found it to be incredibly cruel. Only Worm was truly worse, to artificially cause disease of the mind and the soul. At least this was mere pain that sapped one's strength, interfered with their ability to move and cast if they did not have the proper resilience.
“Aaaaah! D-Damn it...make it stop! Make it stop!” Dalia began to scream as she writhed on the ground, her entire being steadily consumed by the pain. The screams were unpleasant to Morrigan's ears, and the very sight of the Sage's defeated body tugged at her heart. A bandit, perhaps, but did she truly deserve this?
So Morrigan felt the breath of the beast tickle the nape of her neck once more as she knelt down to Dalia's level. The woman had begun to shake and shiver, the black flames covering over half of her body. Morrigan placed her hands on the fallen Sage's back and let out a deep breath. Morrigan had not cast a truly powerful iteration of Luna, so it would have faded within a few moments. Still, if she could spare the woman some agony, then she would.
The flames slowly began to dissipate. Rather than die down like natural fire they instead appeared to dissolve, bit by bit, into nothingness. Even though Luna's fire was dispelled Dalia continued to shudder and tremble. How soon the pain would subside was entirely up to her own strength. Morrigan could do nothing to ease it.
By the time she had successfully dispelled Luna, the nether flame around her own hands dissolving as well, she looked up to the man she had assumed to be the leader of the mercenaries.
“...I hope I made the right decision, helping your lot.” Morrigan's voice was not truly cold, but rather guarded. She still did not know what manner of mercenaries these men were. She'd heard the tales, about how thin the line was between sell-sword and murderer, and she had just reduced a woman to shambles for these men.
If that had been the wrong call. If these men were worse than the average bandit themselves...then she would right her wrong and stand up to them. Whether that was the case or not, though, remained to be seen.
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Post by Donovan on Jan 9, 2017 19:16:04 GMT -6
A dark fire disintegrated as the mercenary saw the Druid standing over the shivering body of the Sage. He knew less of Elder magic than any other form of the arcane arts, and from all he could tell he’d prefer to keep it that way. Instinctually he raised his sword defensively, but quickly lowered it as the woman turned around. When he responded, it was matter of fact and light hearted. They had all fought on the same side, after all. “Thanks for your help. Your move well for a mage. Your kind tends to be as stationary as a rock when it comes to combat. Do you have any idea what sort of magic that woman was casting to… bolster these bastard’s strength like that?”
Doogan looked down at the unconscious yeoman and shook his head. “Never seen a man shrug off a spear through their leg like that. It’s unnatural.” Brandon went to Franz and pulled a few long yards of rope from the horse’s saddle. He handed one to Doogan and then went to tie up the Bandit, pausing while looking down at the bloody stump where the man’s hand should have been. “How should I make sure his hands are tied together when… well….” Doogan shrugged whilst in the process of tying his yeoman nemesis. “I dunno. Tie his elbows together, too, maybe. Make sure you get his feet.”
The mercenary left his friends to handle their business and then approached the Druid. He didn’t sheath Fragarach but made sure it was pointed at the ground. “Are you alright? It looks like she landed a hit on your leg, there. Did you need a vulnerary?” The Silver Tongue put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, where a pair of horses and a bright red fox came bounding out of the tree line. Aonbharr walked up beside Donovan and he reached into her saddle, for a small container of vulnerary. He takes a swig of the strange, bitter potion to help heal his own cuts and bruises and offers it to the Druid.
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 10, 2017 10:45:05 GMT -6
Dalia was harmless for the moment, definitely unused to the bite of the nether. It was a truly different sort of pain and sensation than mere Anima or even Light could give. It was capable of attacking, damaging, and even consuming one on just about every level. Whether you were the intended target of an Elder magic spell, or you were the caster who had gotten just a bit too reckless...
Morrigan shifted her focus from Dalia entirely and onto the mercenary. He seemed grateful but he...did not sheathe his strange sword. The two did not know each other's names, and Morrigan knew all too well that Elder magic was not regarded fondly. Even before whatever befell Ostia it had not been in the greatest of standings, but the uninformed probably saw little difference in Morrigan's magic than that which had brought about those monstrosities.
Still, he at least spoke with her. Quite a bit, at that, and steadily lowered his guard as he continued to speak. So Morrigan decided to do the same, to relax her stance and un-clench her fists. Her connection with the Nether was severed for the time being, and she no longer felt the breath of the beast.
“This woman had used a Luce spell. Capable of pushing the targets to perform feats they would otherwise be incapable of, filling them with drive and energy enough to ignore wounds. It does not truly strengthen them, that requires Staff magic, but the effect is similar all the same.” Besides, given Luce's other purpose, it was clear to anyone educated in magic that 'power' was not the goal or point behind Luce. Morrigan brushed a lock of hair from her eyes before she continued.
“Alternatively, one can use it to instill a great fear in their enemies, and create an opposite effect. A lack of drive and will, as opposed to an overcharge, in a sense.” Morrigan had been fortunate earlier. Had Dalia's Luce been any more powerful, and she any less prepared, she likely would have suffered far greater wounds than she did. The burn from the lightning magic that had struck her leg had already formed a scar, though Morrigan once again began to feel sensation return to her calf.
“Your vulnerary would be appreciated, yes.” Morrigan reached out when Donovan offered her the potion. She was a bit more used to damp wraps, which oft had alcohol and vulnerary alike poured onto them, but she'd drank it before. Morrigan steeled herself and took a swig pf the potion, unfortunately emptying the container. None the less she wiped her mouth with a gloved hand before offering the container back to the mercenary.
“Thank you. As for how I fight and cast, well...it is simply how we are taught back home. I imagine it is quite different from how most mainland magi cast and fight.” Dalia had certainly been unprepared, but she also lacked any powerful offensive spells as well. She had clearly relied on Luce to bolster her men and to stave off enemies so she could stay safe in the back.
Morrigan couldn't help but notice the two mercenaries that had gone about restraining the other defeated bandits, glancing at them over Donovan's shoulder. Seemed as though they simply intended to take them to the proper authorities, or at least that was Morrigan's guess. Relieved, she gave Don a small smile and nodded. “We've yet to introduce ourselves, I'm afraid. My name is Morrigan.”
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Post by Donovan on Jan 11, 2017 0:49:13 GMT -6
“I’d never seen someone juiced on luce.” The silver tongued mercenary looked over at the bandit with one hand and a sickeningly broken leg and shook his head before sheathing his sword. “I seems wrong to have so much power over a person. Did you want to take her with you to collect? I don’t know if there’s a bounty for sure, but with the skill these people had, it’s probably a pretty steep one. Of course, if you wanted to come with us when we drop off the other two, we can toss her on Aonbharr. Either way, it’s probably best if you’re the one to take her in, a sage’ll just burn through a rope, so your… touch might be needed to keep her under wraps.” He looked down at the pitiful woman on the ground. That or you could kill her.
“I’m Donovan. The gruff one over there is Doogan. And the young horse lord is Brandon. It’s nice to meet you, Morrigan.” The mercenary reached into Aonbharr’s saddle and pulled out a lasso of rope. He looked over the Druid with a careful eye before bending over and beginning to hogtie the Sage on the ground. “You know, Morrigan. We have a job in the next town over. Some rich merchant was apparently attacked by some assassin a rival hired. Apparently the woman we were hired to protect turned the guy into the Marquess for slave trading.” He finished tying Dalia’s hands and legs together behind her back and stood up, clapping his hands off as he did. “You should join us. We’re trying to flush out the assassin and capture them alive, get their employer out of them. We could use a magic user like yourself. The merchant promised to supply our company with some fresh arms, so there’s no direct gold involved on our end. But… I could be swayed to part with some coin for your assistance in the manner.” The mercenary looked over to where Brandon was and took off his belt, tossing it to the boy. "You should probably make a tourniquet for big boy over there before he bleeds out."
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 11, 2017 12:04:14 GMT -6
The numbing sensation, and the slight throbbing pain in the back of Morrigan's leg steadily began to dull as the vulnerary worked its magic. Alchemy and potion making had never been one of Morrigan's strong suit, so she actually wasn't quite sure how the standard vulnerary went about speeding up the healing process. All she knew was that she was grateful that it was working so swiftly!
“I understand what you mean, but is it any less wrong than...well, what I did to her?” From the sounds of it Donovan knew very little about magic. The basics at best, most likely. He likely didn't know what Luna had done to Dalia's mental and emotional state, as opposed to what it had done to her physical body. That the black flames that licked the surface hid the true inferno that burned at her very soul. Still, Morrigan did honestly agree. Spells such as Luce and Worm hit a sort of...unforgivable level, if abused. But were they any less unforgivable than a Ruin spell cast specifically to pierce one's heart?
As for claiming a bounty, well, Morrigan wasn't exactly interested. She had very little use for gold beyond room and board while she was on the mainland. Her clothes were mostly made by hand, and...well that covered just about everything she would spend money on. Archives were free provided you didn't take any books out, but Morrigan was entirely content just sitting within them. That said transporting a Sage was far more dangerous than a simple armed bandit. Provided she hadn't drained herself of magic power, then if she was conscious she was a threat.
Still, Morrigan figured the mercenaries were capable enough. Yet before she could decline their offer Donovan continued on to invite her to yet another job. Preventing an assassination? So this skirmish with the bandits was merely a side-job? They had come across one another and began fighting? Strange...but...gods, an assassination. What if Morrigan said no, and the mercenaries failed to do stop them. Could she live on, knowing that she could have made a difference between saving an innocent life and allowing them to die?
“I...” Morrigan started and paused. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, to allow herself to gather her thoughts. “I have little use for coin, I'm afraid...but I will join you all the same. I have done some mercenary work in the past, but I am no mercenary. I hope I can be helpful.” Morrigan was plenty confident in her abilities to cast magic, but to actually perform missions and complete objectives was far more complex. One was no longer simply attempting to win a battle. Failure now had a much higher cost than her own life.
“And um, Doogan. Brandon.” Morrigan turned to the other two before tilting her head a bit and giving them a soft smile. “It's nice to meet you. Likewise to you of course, Donovan.”
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Post by Donovan on Jan 11, 2017 13:22:54 GMT -6
The mercenary shrugged. “I don’t really know what you did to her, if I’m being honest. Most of what I know of magic lies in the anima magics. I guess I can only hope that she’ll be able to recover from whatever magics you cast. But I know that the amount that damn fool ran on a leg as broken as that will never heal properly. Not without a damn skilled staff healer. And that hand won’t grow back either. She pushed her friend to fight until he was forever crippled against foes who didn’t even want his life. That is unforgivable.”
Donovan walked over to Doogan and helped him load the Yeoman onto the Halberdier’s horse, then the two men aided Brandon in loading Franz - by far the strongest of the horses - with the Bandit. Doogan went to grab his horse’s reins and Donovan and Brandon slung the hogtied Sage onto Aonbharr’s rump. “Its our own fault getting mugged by this lot. Shouldn’t have taken a short cut like this. But the good news is, we’re only a couple hours walk to Dove’s Run.”
Donovan grabbed Aonbharr’s reins and began to lead the horse back down the path after making sure the group had collected everything they needed. “We’ll appreciate your help, of course. It’ll be just Doogan and I taking this guy in the fight, otherwise, and we could use the extra set of eyes. And while you may be no mercenary,” The Silver Tongue look over at Morrigan and smirked, “the rest of us are a bit more… fiscally inclined. We’ll make sure you get your fair due. Wouldn't feel right to get paid when someone else works for free.” With that, the group headed off on the short cut to Dove’s Point.
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