Jule
Thief
Anyone can be great.
Posts: 91
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Zach
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Post by Jule on Mar 2, 2015 13:40:54 GMT -6
The girl pulled a piece of fabric from her knapsack, drying her eyes as she turned away from her travel mate. Though recently coated with sweat, dirt, and blood, the quiltwork coat she carried had gotten a thorough scrubbing some days past. Jule found a clean cloak was handier than she thought, carrying it around like a security blanket. "Yeah, you're right. Th-thanks, old man," Jule shot back with a smile and a thumbs-up of her own.
The pair continued on in silence for several minutes, but it might as well have been days from Jule's point of view. Her friend's farm was barely visible over the rolling hills of grain and grass now, but when they both stopped talking the path suddenly stretched forward into an abyss of time. Ughhh, c'mon girl, say something to the guy. Something, anything, as long as the conversation kept up. She couldn't stand another minute of silent footsteps.
"So, how much land d'you got? That place back there looks like it could go on for-ever." NAILED IT. "I... I'm not trying to be rude or anything when I say that," Jule quickly added, scratching at her head. "It's just so, so... spacious. Nothin' like Ostia." It was a good thing she found the nameless old farmer when she did; she could've lost herself forever in a place like this!
"It's ... It's kinda hard to keep talking like this. Is this how all farmers are?" She didn't think him boring, per say, but... For a man with double the age and experience she had, he really needed to leave his home and see Elibe's sights. Kinda like she had, although she didn't consider her roundabout trip very insightful. Jule hadn't had a chance to climb Illia's mountains, or explore Nabata's ruins, or see the Western Isles' famous mines. She should've known anyway - looking for one ghost in a world full of people was like finding a needle in a haystack. Ughhhh, how much longer would it take? "Oh, and are we there yet, mister no-name?" Even as she stood on her toetips and strained her eyes towards the horizon, she couldn't even make out what was over the next hillside and deflated back towards the ground with a sigh. Her friend sure was lucky being so gosh dang tall and built for an old guy.
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Harold Fleabottom
Soldier
Posts: 27
Profession: Farmer, levyman
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Oleg
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Post by Harold Fleabottom on Mar 2, 2015 15:28:43 GMT -6
"Old man?" He raised his eyebrow for a moment before laughing out loudly. It was a very hearty and energetic laugh, so her little name for him had seemingly hit his funny bone rather well. He took a good, long while laughing before stopping, a bright smile having etched itself onto his features. "Thanks for that, kid. That tickled my funny bone real good for some reason. Maybe it's 'cause 'am not even tha' old yet." He wiped his chin for a moment, coughing. He was actually pretty old... And near the age where old folk's tended to be goners. He soon forgot those thoughts.
"Waait. Dangit, did I forget t' mention m' name? Shivvers, I might be gettin' old after all, har!" He shook his head, letting out a loud sigh. "Name's Harold, Harold Fleabottom. Pleasure t' meet yer." He nodded, grinning to her in a joking manner as he then begun to think about her other questions. "Uh, the plots just kinda been growing on it's own with time, I think. As long as won' invade other lands, we jus' kinda grow as far as we need ta. We seperate the lands by them fences, ay'?" He nodded to her.
"And, uh. We'll be there in' a few more walks, I thin'. If we jus' keep goin', that is." How long a "walks" was what he left open, seemingly not realizing at all that she might not know the specific lenghts of his own made up times. Oh well.
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Jule
Thief
Anyone can be great.
Posts: 91
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Zach
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Post by Jule on Mar 3, 2015 16:51:08 GMT -6
His response to her snap of "old man" confused her for a passing moment. Jule analyzed him fully for the second time: head to toe, shoulder to shoulder. If, by some off chance the thief had been a scholar instead, she would've retracted all those times she called him that: old. Jule wasn't a scholar, though - she was Jule! And certainly, the thought never occurred to her that Harold had been sensitive about his age. "Why slice and parse stuff to fit what you want to hear when you don't have to, yeah?" She prodded with more confidence in her voice. "E-even though you're kinda getting up there in years, and you've never been anywhere outside of home, you're at least as twice as lively than anyone I've ever met. That's gotta count for something. Heck, if you keep up this pace you'll outlive us all, aheheh."
Though pumping her bravado up with every word, The woman's shoulders sagged further than they had before after learning how much longer it would take. Or rather, lack there of. How much was a walk, anyway? That was a question Jule decided to stew over by herself. Sounded like stereotypical grown-up talk: dodge the question with an even dodgier answer. But then again, Fleabottom probably knew parent talk better than the rest of the entire state if he was so elderly.
"Y'know, what I was saying kinda jogged my memory. You've never been anywhere, right? Outside of say, Santu...Laaaus? I can't remember where we are. Forget it. What I mean is, you're not someone who's explored what's beyond this cozy little place." Jule paused to yawn and stretch for a minute as she waited for Fleabottom to catch up to her walking pace. "Oyy, that feels a bit better."
"So maybe, you should leave town for a while, Mister Gr- 'arold. Not for too long, 'course, cause your wife and kids will probably be waiting for you. I'm just saying, there's so much more to life than farming, or farmer's markets, or - yeah I guess just farming in general. Gaea would've never made Elibe so big if she didn't want us to explore every last inch of it, right? Kinda like how most maps I've seen don't have what's beyond Sacae on them: What lies beyond the map? More plains? Or another desert, even?
"Maybe when things cool down between nations and all the monsters disappear, you should gather your old man friends up and see the sights." Harold was a happy man, if his laugh and his sun crinkles weren't a tip-off. She couldn't see what about farming made him so happy, but somewhere in her mind she pictured him as an ambitious man, illcontent with what he had - so he would set off somewhere else in search of that missing something to fill the gap.
But what did she of all people know about how others felt? Mr. Harold was just any other guy.
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Harold Fleabottom
Soldier
Posts: 27
Profession: Farmer, levyman
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Oleg
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Post by Harold Fleabottom on Mar 4, 2015 15:19:08 GMT -6
She had a very interesting way of looking at life. He stroked his chin for a moment before nodding with a smile. He could see her points. He then thought about her words about traveling. He had never been the man to lose his roots. He was proud of his farming life and inheritance, and he was intending to stay around to keep the farm strong for both his kid and his grandkids. He slowly shook his head to her with the cheery smile still on his face, his hair shaking along with the motion of his head.
"Eh. I'm not really tha' wanderlusty, ay'?" He tilted his head, nodding to her. "Sure, tha world is big an' th' Earthmother made it fer us, bu' other people handle that there explorin', ay'? Am happy with m' lot in life, I find. Some were made t' do great things, bu' some were made to farm th' land th' Earthmother gave us and all, eh?" He nodded to her in a sagely manner. He was not sure if she could understand, but he hoped that his message got across to her, at the very least. He then turned his eyes to the road.
"Why do ya travel, then? Ya just wanderlusty, or?" He was interested. Did she just see the world as a challenge like he saw farming as the only way to live happily? Or maybe she wanted to somehow meet someone close to her once more, just once? Hm, interesting.
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Jule
Thief
Anyone can be great.
Posts: 91
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Zach
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Post by Jule on Mar 6, 2015 16:58:12 GMT -6
"I... Well, y'know..." Jule pondered her next words with careful precision. They had come to a clash of ideals, and as always in her defiant nature, she wouldn't accept 'defeat'. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Without folks like you and me, the world wouldn't go 'round the same way. But what you're sayin' ain't all true. Anyone can be great. Anyone at all. There just ain't a great deal of people that are brave enough to try." Satisified that her response was flawless solid, she laid the one-sided issue to rest.
The child couldn't understand now, no, but if his family bonds were as strong as he said, she could see what kept him tethered to the farm life for like however millions of years old he was. And if the past months - years? - had played out a different way... Well, who knows? Ostia could've very well been her first and final residence in life. Ostia wasn't a bad place to grow up, or raise a family. There was a reason why it was called "The Jewel of Lycia" by authors, after all. If only it hadn't gotten royally screwed by Etruria, and if only it hadn't been destroyed in that eruption, if only...
"guh?" Jule snapped herself back to reality, strolling side-by-side with one uncomprehensive Harold. "Wanderlusty," the thief rolled the word around on the tip of her tongue. She'd heard it a few times before, but the meaning had all but escaped her grasp. "Oy, you think I'm wanderlusty?" And further pause. "...Maybe a little. That's not all though. I want to grow stronger." Jule sure hoped Harold would understand her feelings. "I wanna... I want to be so strong that my name's known throughout the streets of Elibe. I want opponents to tremble in fear at the name 'Jule Balin, Daughter of Emer.' I want to be a woman that can rival the blades of the Winter Lion, or the Blade Maiden, or the Emerald Wraith, or Sacae's Crimson Demon."
"And most importantly, when I have to go to the great big beyond, I want to be able to meet my mom with a smile, and sweep all my folks off their feet with how strong I've gotten since they left!"
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Harold Fleabottom
Soldier
Posts: 27
Profession: Farmer, levyman
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Oleg
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Post by Harold Fleabottom on Mar 8, 2015 10:29:03 GMT -6
"Am... Am not that brave." He shook his head. "The world can kill, ay'? Much worse than the farm life. I jus' want t' live m' life happily, see my gran'kids get married. I jus' wan' everything to stay like it is. If I was' a bit younger, I might hav' considered travelin'... Bu', times don' change so easy." He nodded to her as the town could be seen in the distance by now. It was rather far away, but still. It was a rather nice sight, what with the slowly setting sun coating it golden.
It was almost as if the light danced on it; but it was a rather small town. There was one defining feature that made the town stand out, that being the church. It was larger than one would see in bigger towns, and it held a rather respectable part of land at the middle of the town. The bell tower next to it was also a fine sight. It was the tallest building in the whole town, and it just oozed that need of respect the church oh so wanted. He looked over to it for a while before sighing and shaking his head.
Before he could address her words any further, a few monks walked past them. He quickly bowed his head low to them, and they responded with a simple nod. They seemed a bit different from the usual monks one would see. Their robes were darker and for more intricate, the books they carried were larger, and their hoods covered their faces completely. His eyes then turned back to the town, squinting at it for a moment. It seemed a bit different than a moment ago... As if something had changed. He could not realize what it was until they got a bit closer.
The light was gone. The sun did not shine as bright upon the town. And... And... The town was burning. Yet there was no light. Nothing. The flames were dark in coloration. "What in m' stars?!"
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Roland "Wolf" Wymond
Wyvern Rider
Posts: 18
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Wandering Knight
OoC Alias: Wolf
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Post by Roland "Wolf" Wymond on Mar 12, 2015 20:46:32 GMT -6
Wolf and Leo had been flying for over half the day and maelstrom was getting tired. "I think it's time to start looking for a town to stay the night in, Leo," Wolf told his younger brother. "Maelstrom did a lot of flying today."
"Yeah, he's really strong," Leo added, "I bet any other wyvern would have crashed by now!" Maelstrom let out a tired roar at the remark.
They had left the small village they had met Oichi and Saaria a few days ago, and now they were flying over Santaruz. When they had first crossed over into Lycia, they had a small encounter with bandits, butluckily they had no archers and were easy to pick off by swooping in and flying high again. Now, they looked for a place to rest for the night.
"Brother! Look over there! Something's burning!" Leo exclaimed and pointed in the distance.
Wolf looked over and saw what looked like a dark fire in the distance and as they closed in, they saw it was a town. "By the gods, what is happening down there? Some sort of Dark magic must have conjured such dark flames," Wolf guessed. "Leo, hold on tight. Maelstrom, sorry but you won't be able to rest just yet." Maelstrom roared now ready for action and flew down to the town.
As they hovered down to the entrance of the village, they spotted an old man and a young girl, "Hail villagers. Do you know what happened here?" he asked.
The elderly man had a lance and the girl didn't appear to have a weapon, but she could have one hidden under her cloak.
"We want to help!" Leo yelled out. Maelstrom gave a low roar as affirmation.
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Jule
Thief
Anyone can be great.
Posts: 91
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Zach
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Post by Jule on Mar 19, 2015 15:23:07 GMT -6
At last they had arrived at their destination, evident with the sun dancing off the village in the distance. But there was a... certain feeling Jule couldn't shake about the town. Something was different from when she had departed. Such a strange sensation, that made every hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. She racked her thoughts - a pretty frequence occurrence today - completely ignoring Harold pouring his heart out to her in the process.
Suddenly, the child found herself shoved aside into Fleabottom's torso like a stray cat(which wasn't that far off). "M'bad," she grumbled to the creepy, hooded monks. And they didn't so much as glance at her from under their cowls. Sheesh, tough crowd.
It was only being bumped by the passerby that let Jule's epiphany come to light. There was a caravan parked outside the town, earlier today... And what Jule saw with her craven eyes was the distinct lack of carts. It wasn't there now... Her ride was gone. And there hadn't been a place to stop inside the town, either. The tears that had been so cleanly wiped away made their comeback twofold at the realization. It didn't help that the acrid, tell-tale smell of smoke slapped her across the face right then. "No!!" she blubbered. "They... They left without me? What a buncha crooks!" Furious that she wasted all day for nothing, Jule rolled up her sleeves, ready to march into town and beat directions out of the first poor soul she met, but the old man stopped her dead in her tracks. She rubbed her eyes clear to see what was so pressing that didn't concern her, and then, and then...
Fire. The town - no, the world itself, looked to be drowning in a sea of flames inside her eyes. For a minute, she was back in Ostia. The walls that were once like mountains, crumbling in a horrifying landslide. And the plumes of fire spraying up from the wasted city. And the sound of every man, woman, and child unfortunate enough to be trapped inside the melting pot, like the sounds of so many of the dark creatures born that day.
"N-No, not like this, not again..." She helplessly looked to Harold, and then to the monsters descending from the sky - no, not monsters, but wyverns. They were monsters of a different kind. The helping kind.
And so her first instinct was to leave this to those monsters and run. Run far away, so far that she might never see the town again. But she couldn't, not with Harold watching. It would've been a poor example she'd be setting for the old man. "You three! I... Where's the water in this place? Do something, greybeard!!"
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Harold Fleabottom
Soldier
Posts: 27
Profession: Farmer, levyman
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Oleg
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Post by Harold Fleabottom on Mar 22, 2015 7:50:22 GMT -6
Harold didn't answer much to any of them. Not the riders, not the little girl. He just stared. It wasn't the stare of fear, really. He clearly wasn't afraid. More... Surprised. "I thought this wouldn'nnae happen anymore... Not after th' incident." He frowned to himself, whispering out those words as silently as he could. He then looked from the riders to Jule, a frown reaching his face. "We'll need more than water to handle this. This is... This is not fire as we kno' it." He looked to the riders, fear finally reaching his eyes along with a manner of utter seriousness.
"Ye'. Go to th' church, an' head to thar belltower. Ya need t' search fer Father Malkovich, an' tell him Harold sen't ya. He'll help yer if ya threaten' 'im a bit." He nodded, turning to Jule. "I need yer t' com' wif' me. We gotta go an' stop those monks before they go t' where I think they're goin'." He grabbed her hand, starting to rush back to where they had come from at an impressive speed. He quickly shouted to the riders behind them. "Don' try t' take out th' fires withoot th' monks help, ya hear?!"
He then kept running. His speed was rather impressive for an old man who had back problems, although fear was the major thing here that kept him running and moving. "I jus'... Oh Earthmother, pleas' tell m' they aren' gonna do wot I fear they gonna do..." He panted a bit.
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Roland "Wolf" Wymond
Wyvern Rider
Posts: 18
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Wandering Knight
OoC Alias: Wolf
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Post by Roland "Wolf" Wymond on Mar 23, 2015 17:23:52 GMT -6
"Father Malkovich? Got it," Wolf responded as Maelstrom took wing once more. They flew towards the indicated Bell tower of the church. They saw an elderly priest watching the flames spread. He had a rag in his hand so he was probably tending to the bell when the flames broke out. "Hail priest!, are you Father Malkovich?" Wolf called out as they neared him.
"Father Malkovich? No, he's inside the church" the priest replied. He seemed to scared to move from his spot. "Th-these flames. Such an unholy blaze."
"Thanks for the info, and I'd suggest getting down from the bell tower." Wolf told the priest. they flew down to the church and rushed inside with Maelstrom even following They saw another priest at the altar praying. This one seemed more like a head priest so Wolf figured this was the guy. "Father Malkovich?" he asked.
"Hmm?" the priest stood and turned around. "Yes, that's me. What d'ya want?"
We need your help with the black flames outside!" Leo exclaimed. "An old soldier told us to say Harold sent us!"
"Black flames y' say?" Malkovich asked.
"Yes, that is correct, Father," Wolf confirmed. "Harold said you could help, but he said you might need some convincing first." Wolf had his lance on his shoulder and just tapped it with one finger as he spoke.
"Nah, that won't be necessary. I'll help y' out," Malkovich quickly answered. "Jus' follow me."
"Alright, lead the way," Wolf replied with Leo right behind him.
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Jule
Thief
Anyone can be great.
Posts: 91
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Zach
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Post by Jule on Apr 3, 2015 11:31:20 GMT -6
Not another peep as Harold's grasp tightened around her hand. For once, Jule followed without protest. The old man practically dragged her along for the ride as he galloped across the road, and only when his feet slowed and his breathing became ragged did she manage to squirm her digits out of his vise. With seconds to spare before she was left behind, Jule fumbled her scabbard out of the leather bindings holding it together. Prepared though the girl was, she held it for her own protection rather than for the old man in front of her. The girl was no fool; she knew magic was at play when she saw it, and that 'it' was a ball of fire and smoke choking the sunset.
--
Jule had long since lost track of how long they had been running, or how much her lungs heaved from running. But with the sky turning from the sunset's strokes of color to a dull blue the old man and young woman were right back where they started: Harold's farm.
Considering the hustle that the group of hoods that passed them earlier, the duo's impressively overcame their adversaries' gait within minutes. From a stone's throw, she couldn't make out any individual details. They moved as one unit, seemingly one shadow. And what she made out even clearer was the sudden stop of one. His bark of uncertainty. They had been spotted! Some of them hesitated, others increased their pace, and from the thief's perspective it turned from one unit into a jumble of cloaks and habits. It seemed that as they regained their composure they slowed down, as if they goaded him onwards.
Jule furrowed her brow, unsure even as she drew her gnarled blade. On the one hand she wanted nothing more than to beat the arsons to a pulp, but on the other she feared their magic powers and how flammable she was. "Hey!" To test the waters, she broke her silence with a cry that rang through the air. "You lot'a cowards, stop right there!"
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Harold Fleabottom
Soldier
Posts: 27
Profession: Farmer, levyman
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Oleg
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Post by Harold Fleabottom on Apr 4, 2015 8:50:58 GMT -6
Father Malkovich, when looked at in a certain light, seemed to be rather chubby. Of course, the dark robes he wore did not help much in seeing any of his features as he also wore leathery gloves and a hood that hid any mention of skin. He led the man on down the tower to the base of it, opening up a hatch as they soon reached a cellar of sorts. "Don' mind th' smell, lad. Ya get betta off nae questionin' it, ay'?" The smell that met the two had to be described in many words so it could truly be understood.
It was horrid. The smell of something so acidic that it could burn one's nose, the smell of rotten corpses that could be god knows how old, and that striking smell of blood that all mixed into a mixture of utter disgust. The Father did not still find himself disgusted at this as he just kept walking, seemingly seeing perfectly in the almost pitch black darkness they had reached. What was he hiding? How could he see in utter darkness? "Nao, mind ye, th' way tae put out th' fire is... Lessay, jus' kinda weird." He slowly dug trough a few barrels at the back of the cellar.
He then casually offered him a sacrificial dagger, litting a torch as he pulled down his hood, revealing...
It was horrid. Father Malkovich was horridly disfigured. Half of his nose was gone, replaced by that seemed to be some kind of tentacle like appendage growing from it. One of his eyes were replaced by a gleaming rock, his other eye was bloodshot, his forehead was full of moss and his beard was made of the same tentacles that the half of his nose was made from. His skin was as pale as snow and his eye was the color of yellow as he calmly stared to the man, pulling his glove off and laying his hand to the top of the barrel. He then fished out a bottle.
"It needs me blood, ya see. Ya gotta cut off a few fingers and chugga chug, gather up th' blood in thae bottle an' pour it on th' fire and bam. Any o' us servants of th' master could do it, b' since am' th' one who kinda owes Harold an' doesn' wanna die, he has me donate... So, chop chop boio."
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The shadows split. Or was shadow a good word? No, no. Horror. The horrors split up, a few continuing their trek towards the farm with a few more staying behind. "Jule, ya dunnae wan' ta go any closer. They're dangerous flock..." Harold was clearly afraid. He was clearly afraid on what they would do. He was sure they would do something bad soon, he knew, he, he...
"As the master commands, Harold. You know well that the master commands for blood. Stay behind, and your blood shall not be claimed to his folds."
He knew then that he had to go. He had to get to them before these... These monsters would do. He quickly drew his spear as the old man charged forwards, anger and hate in his voice as he let out a guttural growl. The horrors just watched him come, one slowly lifting it's arm to reveal it's face. It was in a way similar to Malkovich, but not as fat and much longer, and with both eyes being replaced by the same kind of stone, chin torn apart and spouting mucus, and the tentacles spouting as it's hair. It whispered a few commands as a dark force soon struck upon Harold's chest, forcing him onto the ground as he groaned.
And in the distance... The farm burned in dark fire. Children screamed. His wife screamed. His son screamed. Yet he could not do anything. He... He failed them. Like he failed before. He had doomed his family.
"N-no..."
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Roland "Wolf" Wymond
Wyvern Rider
Posts: 18
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Wandering Knight
OoC Alias: Wolf
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Post by Roland "Wolf" Wymond on Apr 6, 2015 18:30:21 GMT -6
Wolf and Leo followed behind Malkovich. When he opened the door to the back room, a foul acidic odor hit them. It was rancid like rotten flesh and putrid acids. They didn't say anything as they followed the priest inside.
When offered the dagger, Wolf took it rather confused, but he waited for Father Malkovich to speak before questioning. When the priest lowered his hood, Wolf and Leo reflexively took a a half-step back. "father Malkovich," Wolf started, but the priest went on to tell them to cut off some fingers and take some of his blood.
Both Wolf and Leo were astonished. "Father Malkovich, are you sure? This is really the only way?" Wolf asked but he could tell from the old priest's gaze that it was or at least that he knew of.
"Alright, I'll do it," Wolf said looking at the dagger in his hand. "Leo, wait outside." Leo didn't argue and left the room. Wolf walked over the the priest and held the hand over the barrel. he saw Malkovich holding tightly to his arm and gritting his teeeth, but his eyes were steady. "Ready?"
"Aye, boio, just do it quickly," Malkovich replied. Wolf placed the bottle under Malkovich's hand and cut into one of his fingers. Blood dripped into the bottle as he cut and pushed the knife deeper. When he hit bone, he paused, and in a swift motion cut through and severed the small appendage.
Father Malkovich held the small remaining stub of a finger over the bottle as blood poured out of the wound. The bottle filled up about half way before the finger started to dry from the air.
"Oi, y' gonna have t'e do another finger," Malkovich held out his hand again ready for another cut.
Wolf nodded and performed the same procedure he had on the first finger, but a bit quicker this time. This time the bottle was filled plus about a quarter more in a second bottle.
"Father Malkovivh, I thank you for your sacrifice. the town is lucky to have you here," Wolf told the priest who was wrapping his two finger stubs at the moment. "anyways, we'll take care of the flames now. you just rest now." Wolf walked out of the room and found leo in the main hall with Maelstrom. "Let's ride, Leo." They exited the building and took to the sky.
"We just have to sprinkle it onto the black flames according to Father Malkovich," Wolf said as they hovered to the closest flames. They sprinkled blood onto said flames and almost instantly the hellish flames extinguished. "Well, it works. Now the rest of the town." They flew to the different patches of flames, extinguishing them one by one.
They had "doused" half the town in about half an hour. "Still so much fire!" Leo exclaimed.
"I know, but we have plenty of Malkovich's blood left, Leo," Wolf replied. "We'll save the rest of the town also. I hope Harold and that girl are safe..."
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Jule
Thief
Anyone can be great.
Posts: 91
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Zach
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Post by Jule on Apr 7, 2015 15:33:19 GMT -6
Light was fading from the sky fast, and so were her hopes of winning. Almost like it was a dream Harold was blown backwards with the force of a young mare behind him. He slid to a stop as he sprawled up beneath her, looking for all the world like he was done for. His spear flung off the road into the fields as though it was a toothpick carelessly thrown by a drunk in a bar. And for the second time that evening, Jule felt smaller than ever as she gripped her blade tighter. And as that fear simmered, it boiled over into anger. "You... dirty, thievin', liberal... bastards!!" The thing who had spoken - was it even human? - merely shook its head. "What you may think of us or the master means little to we of the faith. Approach tiny one, and you shall meet the same fate."
Time stopped. Or if it hadn't, she didn't notice. The warrior's sword felt light as air as it hefted from the ground and fiercely pointed at the abominations. "Doesn't matter how small I am!" Jule bellowed, charging. "I'll rip you to pieces!"
Close. She had gotten so close. Closer than Harold, and yet... so far. Her feet carried her an impressive distance in the span of seconds, and though she had dodged one of the words of power the horrid thing spoke, she wasn't so lucky up front and personal. She didn't have time to slash, time to hear, time to react, before the creature verbalized just how clear of a nuisance she had turned into. Racked with pain Jule was forced on her rump, with her head suddenly jerking backwards. Her vision was clouded with specks of light. Her lungs seemed drained of every last gasp of air. And yet, she felt like she was screaming. The farmer's grandchildren, they screamed too. His wife screamed. His son screamed. A cacophony of shrill voices, writhing in pain.
Harold groaned.
By the time that she realized the wind was knocked out of her by her own sword's hilt, it was too late to get back up. She had lost, soundly. But she had to get up, she had to help... Harold.
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Harold Fleabottom
Soldier
Posts: 27
Profession: Farmer, levyman
Affinity: Thunder
OoC Alias: Oleg
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Post by Harold Fleabottom on Apr 7, 2015 16:37:10 GMT -6
(To be honest, there's not much to say about the town being saved. Just fires being put out, etc etc.)
Honestly, what could he do in the end? Nothing. He had doomed his family from the start by not moving away when he could. He had blindly trusted the priests in their promises of not attacking him anymore. And sure, they did not harm him more than was necessary. Instead, they harmed his family. They harmed his lifebrood, they harmed his whole... They harmed his whole being. Trough his family, trough... B-but, he was hopeful. They did not claim death.
What the cult wanted was blood and suffering. As long as the fires would soon be put out by then, there was a chance. And so he lied there, hoping and mumbling against the dirt as he felt a familar tinge in his chest, around his heart. It hit him like thunder. His old age was catching up to him at a rate he could not comprehend. Dammit, not here... Not now. He had to survive. He had to survive, he had to go and check on them once the cultists left, he'd have to go and check on Artyom and laugh with him...
Of course, Harold had simply sunk into his own world right now, suffering from his heart pains as the screams became numb to his ears. One by one they stopped, one by one the flames were lit out by the priests of... Whatever dark master they sevred.
"We'll see you again in another forty years, Fleabottom... If you're alive by then."
And then they just began to scramble, each to their own direction, like they were just shadows of the past returning to whatever little hole they had come from. Like they were just... Just some beasts.
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