Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Mar 6, 2016 13:26:45 GMT -6
(OoC: The thread is open, but will also be keeping active. Feel free to PM with questions.)
The sounds of morning surrounded the small camp at the edge of the Lycian province. It was the edge of Etruria, and it opened into Ostia. A dangerous place by all recent accounts, and monsterous in more ways than one.... Thankfully, she wasn't passing through the main area of Ostia. Just a little pass near the edge that she'd been directed to by a few folks with interests in knowing how to get through to Lycia.... They said this would be safe as long as she didn't dally.
Loreley gathered up her belongings. Wrapped up a small tent she'd picked up from her last job, and fitted it to its frame on her pack. She threw her bow over her shoulder and secured her quiver at her hip as she tousled back wild hair one more time after roughing it for the night. Getting up this morning had been a little painful after sleeping on the ground, but oddly satisfying. She picked up the walking staff she'd found at the last market, and tapped it on the ground a few times before sighing and taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It felt good out here. The morning birds were waking up, and a soft breeze was blowing through the leaves of the trees and bushes around them. It was missing something though. She missed the ocean's feel and sound. That was why she was heading south. Exploring Lycia's inland areas was a goal she'd set for herself, but getting the ocean again would be something pleasant and fulfilling....
Ahead, she could see the mountain pass. It'd take a little bit of trekking to get through it today, but she had a few extra supplies stowed this time. Some torches, for one. She was taking her lead from an old associate named Vic there. And a good length of rope. Common sense to carry that. Even if it wasn't made as well as the lines she was used to on sailing vessels.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Mar 6, 2016 16:35:12 GMT -6
Pre-dawn, the camp and its surroundings lay quiet. Two tents were situated within a clearing in the woods a short ways off the main road. Derick sat just outside the opening of his tent, which was similar in size and build to his traveling companion's. He briefly regarded Loreley's tent, they had reunited in a trade city in northern Ostia, a final stop before braving the outskirts of Lycia. Focus. The mental reminder was patient, Derick was wide awake, having gotten plenty of sleep during Loreley's shift earlier in the night. He rose from his post by the tent's entrance, turning slowly as he inspected the perimeter of their clearing.
All clear. Derick chastised his disappointment as he surveyed the area; a few days ago, a familiar yearning for action had set in Derick's mind. Loreley and he had spent most of the time in the city gathering the supplies necessary for their journey, but on Loreley's insistence, they made time to visit a tavern before they started their shopping. Derick had been bemused by her need for alcohol at such an inconvenient time, but had caught on quickly enough once they entered the bar.
Loreley bought a drink for herself and the stranger seated next to her and, after a nod from Loreley, Derick followed suit. After being fed enough coin, the bartender and patrons alike had been happy to share everything they knew: stories from the Lycian wastelands, the routes merchants had carved out for safe passage, and the most honest shopkeepers in town.
A fond smile found its way onto Derick's face, his eyes rested on her tent for a moment again before continuing their sentry work. Loreley continually surprised Derick, she had a knack for learning little tricks here and there, but Vic hadn't even shown them that one.
Crack. A branch snapped. Derick's posture tightened, and he did another quick scan of the clearing's perimeter with renewed vigor. Still nothing. Disappointment again. Derick loosened his grip on the haft of his glaive. When did I pick that up? Derick eyed the weapon uneasily. His heart was pounding, not with fear, but anticipation. Derick drew in a slightly shaky breath, and then apprehensively started working through a few forms with his spear. The movements were starting to come naturally, but it still took a great deal of focus, he was thankful for the distraction as he worked.
Derick relaxed his posture and spread his feet shoulder distance apart before hefting the glaive up to chest height. His right hand supported the spear's base while his left hand choked up towards the business end of the weapon. Derick lunged forward and used his right hand to drive several thrusts forward, sticking to what was familiar. After a few minutes, Derick expanded his technique into more experimental territory. His stance widened, and his hands slid towards the middle of the haft. Derick swung the weapon somewhat inexpertly, focusing on learning the new lance's weight and bringing the blunt side of the weapon to bear on a couple strikes.
Tap, tap tap. The rhythmic interruption cut cleanly through Derick's focus, he grounded his spear and turned to face the sound, which had come from the camp. "A-ah! Loreley!" She had managed to pack up most of her belongings, and was looking south, towards the path ahead of them. Derick rushed to pack his own things, and shot Loreley a slightly embarrassed grin when he finally stood alongside of her. "Shall we get going, then?" His light tone was a contrast to the uneasy mood set by today's expedition. Skirting a land filled with nightmares of yore had a tendency to do that. Derick only wished it didn't inspire so much excitement within himself at the same time.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Mar 6, 2016 21:02:13 GMT -6
Ravvus stared forward in a blank, fixed haze. His eyes dully fell on a group of jagged mountains outlined against a pristine blue sky. Above the mage, a single leaf clung weakly to its' branch. It was time for the foliage to move on, to find a new home in the dirt below. Relinquishing the only haven it had ever known, the leaf slowly fluttered to the earth, swaying back and forth as it sunk lower and lower. The blade brushed past the mage's cheek. For a brief moment, it hovered in front of him, encompassing his vision, before finally ending its' journey. The hot-blooded mage exhaled sharply.
For a country that had gone so far to hell, Ostia managed to maintain a lovely, peaceful ascetic. Birds chirped their melodic, gibberish tunes. The sun shined down in a warm, encompassing embrace. The forests were quiet and relaxed, providing a soothing melody through the rustling of its' leaves. The tranquility almost made one forget that the land was now dominated by monsters. That traveling through Ostia could prove lethal to those who weren't careful. Ravvus didn't like it. ”Repulsive juxtaposition...” The mage muttered, spitting on the ground. Ravvus started forward, crushing the leaf beneath his leather-bound foot.
The conjurer hated how peaceful Ostia had been so far. He'd come to the land because he needed something to fight against, needed something to kill, before reuniting with Eagle and The Pathfinders. The events in Sacae had left him feeling powerless, just like the encounter with the Scorched Behemoth. And whenever Ravvus felt powerless, he needed to prove to himself that he was not, in fact, powerless. The mage was in a bloodthirsty mood, which had only been amplified by the abundance of nothing he'd found thus far. He really needed to set something on fire.
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Post by The Madness on Mar 7, 2016 8:33:33 GMT -6
There was something so boring about her little humble abode. While the castle had been mostly complete, the roof was nothing but the very basic wooden structures, undead men shambling about, nailing down freshly made planks to keep out the upcoming rains. It was sad that they had to cut down some of the trees in Ostia, but... They'd pay it back to mother earth trough cutting down those vermin and using their blood to cultivate double the trees that had been cut. Humans would never have such thought, all they wished was for nature to be their little starting point that should be abused until there was nothing left... How sad. She had already directed her undead servants to plant down some saplings for the future of this world. Her king would be proud, surely.
Yet, sitting in this hall, on the throne her king would sit on when he would enter this world felt so boring. There were better things to do. She wasn't born a ruler, she was born a warrior loyal to her king like a cub to it's mother. They were bound together by a companionship, something no human could ever truly understand. Her hand gripped tightly, the plated gauntlet making a silent clink as the fingers tightened and pushed against each other. Maybe there was something more to it as well. Something Hunger or any other knight could never understand, those buffoons.
"My king... I await for your return evermore. I love you completely, with my whole being, with my whole life, and you know that I'd give it to you a thousand times if it meant you would be happy and content."
Could he truly hear her? She was never too sure on how absolute her king's power was, truth be told. Sometimes it seemed like he could hear any and all conversations, yet at times it felt like he was woefully ignorant of things that he thought of not as concerning but as just trivial trash. She pushed up from the throne and headed out. Her men could keep up the building efforts.
What she needed was fresh air and a hunt.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2016 14:28:40 GMT -6
"Er, Prince, ole boy..." Venford started his sentence smoothly, with a casual "devil may care" sort of tone. Of course the griffon didn't voice any sort of response, or give any sign of recognition for that matter, so Ven was more than willing to continue. "I know you're comfortable up here and all. What with being half-bird and having these lovely wings...but if you don't start descending soon I'm going to have to take the reins."
To Prince's credit Ven should never had let go of the reins in the first place. The two were still working on their synergy and co-ordination. Berial had been a spectacular steed, but Prince had an intelligence sharper than any horse Venford had worked with. This worked for and against Ven, such as Prince's innate understanding that, without using the reins, Ven really couldn't control or properly command him beyond tugging his feathers out.
He'd done that before, and it hadn't gone well, so he wasn't like to repeat the act.
Still, Ven couldn't help but admire the view. The sun was just beginning to rise and cast it's wondrous light across the sky above and land below. From their current altitude it was really quite the spectacle, one that continued to blow Venford away even if this was far from his first time experiencing it. Venford had to admit, much that he missed Berial, that the one thing that horse couldn't do was offer such a wonderful view of Elibe to him.
Though all good things had to come to an end. Enough was enough, so Venford clutched the loose reins and gently tugged them downwards. With a grunt Prince complied and began to work on his descent...which was still far, far, FAR too fast for Venfords liking. One thing he'd learned was that, while Prince could hit incredible speeds, his control still needed a lot of work. Of course that's what the reins were for, but they could only do so much.
"Easy Prince, easy!" Venford cried out as the ground grew nearer and nearer with each passing second. He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of the rushing air, the whooshing slice of Prince's wings slicing through the air, and his black cloak billowing roughly behind him.
Thankfully the griffon did start to rear up and slow his descent in time to carefully make his way towards a nearby hill. Venford took a deep breath to calm himself. Prince could be a right bastard, but Venford would be a dirty liar if he denied taking any thrill in those intense dives of his.
The red-head glanced around to see if he recognized the area, and...ah cripes, he did. It looked to be around Ostia, or what remained of it, near the Etrurian/Lycian border. Ven had rode with many caravans between the two nations, and ever since the rise of those monsters the caravans made a point to steer as far away from the ruins of Ostia as possible.
Venford looked forward and gently pat Prince's head. The griffon had taken quite the long flight that morning, so he'd need a good rest before making such an endeavor again. Even just hovering around the area would replenish him...Venford just hoped that nothing terrible would befall them as he did so.
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Mar 11, 2016 18:58:25 GMT -6
"Oh. There you are." The sound of Derick coming back to their little evening's shelter turned her around to see him coming back. She doused the remains of their fire and turned to helping him with his own quick packing for lack of other actions. It didn't take long. They didn't have much to pack. "Yeah! Let's get going. I'm anxious to get through here.... Though I've heard that the Ostian mountains and valleys are really beautiful to behold." It had already been an interesting journey overland. It had been too dangerous for her to try back home, but she'd heard of islanders who'd traveled the length and width of the islands on foot. Here, it seemed hopeless to try, so enormous was the mainland of Elibe. Still, she'd crossed a fair bit of it by hitching rides with trade caravans and other well traveled sorts.... She still hadn't managed to completely cross it though, and now she was heading in a completely different direction. It was amazing, how it felt to be able to travel with no end in sight. They started off quickly enough. The trail was rough, but easy enough. It wasn't long before the path began to lead up hill though. Once it did, Lore realized that sailing the seas couldn't prepare one for all of life's challenges. Walking these hills was a challenge kept well fueled by her enthusiasm at the many sights she was finding. She'd take the time to point out a particularly large tree, or point down into a river gorge. The Ostian Scenery was beautiful. Untouched even. Loreley resisted letting herself fall completely under its sway, but it was hard. "These hills are so alive." She said to Derick, smiling at how the clouds were blowing by softly overhead. She enjoyed the sights a bit longer, before her eyes caught sight of a large bird in the distance. She watched it with interest as it grew nearer, then her head cocked to one side a bit as it continued to grow larger and more distinct. She jumped suddenly in surprise as a strange call, ripped across her from the strange creature she saw. It was like a bird's caw, crossed with a bugle or a trump of some kind.... She'd never heard anything like it before, and couldn't imagine the kind of creature that would make it. Before she could get a better look at it, it dove towards the ground suddenly "Woww!" Loreley turned and looked back at Derick, excitement having stolen her breath away. "Did you see that? How big was that thing?!" The young woman's golden eyes glittered with excitement at the nearness of the encounter, even if it hadn't been that near. It hadn't looked like a monster to her. She'd have thought such things to inspire more fear or terror. Maybe even disgust. She found herself just wanting to get a closer look at it. "C'mon! I want to get a closer look at that!" Loreley waved her arm frenetically for Derick to follow before grabbing hold of his armor and starting to drag him along. She then bolted into the brush, vigor restored. They'd seen the thing come down, so it couldn't be that far away.... She ran through the woods, in the direction that she'd seen the beast come down, until she slowed to a stop as she neared the edge of a cliff. Somewhere in the rush, she'd let go of Derick's shirt "No more path that way...." She muttered to herself under her breath. She paused for a few moments to marvel at this ,The drop off was probably close to a hundred feet down. A small stream ran towards the ledge and dropped down to the ground below where there was a sandy, earthy depression. The whole thing was gorgeous... until she noticed the corpse nearby. Something mangy and rotten looking lay curled up down at the bottom of the depression, against some of the trees. She grimaced a little as she looked at it.... Or was it the smell creeping up on her that she was grimacing at. She covered her mouth as she realized she was seeing the work of the Ostian corruption here. Without looking, she blindly reached for her companion's touch with one arm, as she pointed mutely down at the bottom of the area where the body was with the other hand. Thoughts of the strange aerial beast were forgotten for the moement as she realized that they might be in danger.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Mar 12, 2016 17:29:10 GMT -6
With the camp torn down, Derick shouldered his pack as he and Loreley set off. Derick noted that his bag was slightly larger than Loreley's, he had packed cautiously, being unused to traversing Elibe's wilderness without a larger group. Despite his generous preparations, the weight of the pack was nothing next to wearing his old armor. Indeed, the leather adventuring gear was so light that Derick breathed easily despite their brisk pace.
As Loreley declared her excitement for seeing Lycia's beauty, Derick couldn't help but look a question at the back of her head. Apparently we gathered information on this area from entirely different sources... Tales he had heard of Ostia's scorched earth and innumerable beasts filled Derick's mind again. Derick opened his mouth, intending to remind Loreley of their precarious position, but his tongue was stayed by their present surroundings. The noonday sun shone through lush trees, the occasional bird flitted through the air and Derick had spotted a few common woodland creatures during their trek. Perhaps the stories were just exaggerations... Derick felt disappointment cloud his thoughts again. Frustrated, Derick forced the familiar lust for combat out of his mind. Derick refocused and tried to relax by watching Loreley marvel at the beauty of unmarked wilderness.
"--The hills are so alive!" Derick laughed at Loreley's awestruck tone, his teeth showed in an amused smile as he replied, "they really are, aren't they? I've taken for granted how beautiful the mainland can be!" Derick drew in a deep breath, allowing himself to take in the horizon, a gasp of surprise from Loreley drew his attention first to her face, and then to where her line of sight was directed.
A brazen, birdlike call shattered the forest's tranquil atmosphere. Derick's heart leapt, and his grip on his lance tightened involuntarily on being startled. Derick's eyes narrowed as he tried to identify the shape in the sky that had presumably made the cry. Derick identified wings and the creature's dark-hued body, but it dove below the treeline before he could make anything else out.
"That was...s-something!" Derick's tongue tripped over words as he shared Loreley's fervor. "It could have been a wyvern, b-but...the shape's not right..." A hint of anxiety tempered Derick's excitement. Seeing anything wyvern-like in the sky reminded him too much of the army he had deserted. Derick was left no time to dwell on such thoughts, however, as he was yanked forward by an overzealous Loreley. "H-hey! Whoa!" Derick's legs scrambled to keep up with Loreley's momentum until he found his own stride. Curiosity over the nature of the unknown creature overcame unfounded paranoia over his homeland, and Derick laughed, exhilarated as he pursued the fair-haired sailor.
The pair slowed as they reached a cliff. Derick panted and laughed as he sought to regain his breath. Today's shaping up to be pretty fun! Derick grinned with the carefree thought as he stood at Loreley's side, looking blankly across the horizon as she investigated the drop-off in front of them.
Something gripped Derick's forearm, and tightly. Alarm bells went off in the back of Derick's mind, he felt his blood stirring as he looked at the perpetrator, Loreley, and noted her pale skin. Derick felt a sense of deja vu as he examined Loreley's expression, and then traced her line of sight to whatever had caught her attention...
"O-oh!" Derick reacted in surprise, as Loreley had done, but the tone of his cry was that of a person discovering an unexpected present, like finding a few gold coin on the road. Excitement widened his eyes as Derick crouched down to try to get a better look at the corpse below. The figure's matted fur betrayed it as some sort of beast, Derick noted it's canine shape as confirmation. But...something's not right...That creature looks like it has been there for weeks, but those wounds look fresh... Derick's brow furrowed as he stared intently at the corpse, trying to reconcile conflicting information.
The corpse turned its head and looked up at Derick and Loreley.
"Oh...?" Derick sounded pleasantly surprised as he and the beast stared each other down. The canine was nearly the size of Derick, chunks of its filthy fur had fallen out, revealing tissue that looked mummified underneath. The beast ended the staring contest and howled, its rotted vocal chords creating an ungodly banshee-like scream. Derick's heart sang with the call, a twisted sense of joy soaked his consciousness as he fervently anticipated taking his unholy adversary's life. The beast's signal roused more of the fell hounds, Derick could hear their class echoing from the cave beneath and, alarmingly, from the woods behind Derick and Loreley as well.
So, we're surrounded... Instinctively, Derick surveyed the landscape as he formulated a plan. The pack of hellhounds at the bottom of the cliff was starting to disperse, the beasts running along the cliff face in search of a path up to where Derick and Loreley were standing. Derick sucked in a breath, unaware that he had been holding, and wiped a wolfish grin off of his face as he became of Loreley's presence again.
"S-seems the stories were true after all... Hah..." Derick pulled in another breath as he addressed Loreley. Bern had recruited him for his bloodlust, but paid the price when Derick killed a comrade in arms during a skirmish. I can't afford to lose myself like that when we're so badly outnumbered... Derick was blissfully unaware of his change in demeanor as he addressed his fellow mercenary. "L-Loreley, pick them off, as m-many as you can." Derick's grin reappeared, his eyes shone, conveying a sense of anticipation as he tracked their foes' progress. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy it, right? "I'll t-take care of anything that comes c-close." Derick's teeth shone in a wicked grin as he turned away from Loreley. He adopted a fighting stance, just as he had that morning, and waited for the first life foolish enough to come his way. I'm going to enjoy this Derick's tongue passed over his teeth with the thought.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Mar 13, 2016 18:11:28 GMT -6
It came from above. The unintelligible shoutings of a man. Noises which lost their meaning after traveling too far. Ravvus could make out the shape of a figure in the skies. It dove to the earth, like a great bolt cast forth from a ballistae. The distant entity had the frame of a pegasus rider, although the steed was far too bulky and lacked a white coat of hair. Within a short span of seconds, the figure disappeared behind the Ostian canopy of trees. Ravvus' eyebrow twitched. The man was visibly annoyed at the audacity of the forest. He slipped a hand into his travel satchel, removing the fire tome within. The mage's fingers wrapped tightly around the magical manual. He had half a mind to burn the woods for obstructing his vision, but controlled himself. Ravvus eased up on his grip, taking charge of his temper. He began walking in the direction the entity had been headed.
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The mage moved at a heightened pace, occasionally swatting aside branches and brush which got too close. The obstructions only raised the hot-head's ire. ”Damn woods...” He cursed, crushing a thorny vine beneath his boot. The troublesome plants had snagged on his cloak and leather armor more than a few times, taking bits of cloth with them. Tiny new holes found themselves in the mage's already worn clothing. Ravvus halted abruptly, feeling his orange cloak catch on something from behind. Leveling his tome, the man lost all patience.. ”Enough!” The mage called upon a whip of fire. He cast the tongue forward, like a scythe, delicately burning through a host of thorny branches. Unsatisfied, the mage called upon another blade of flame, this one substantially longer and larger than the last. So much for controlling his temper. The tendril of flame whipped forth, burning through the woods and leaves. Branches sagged to the earth, oaks now bore nasty scars on their frames, and grass wilted under the heat. As nature died around him, the mage was finally capable of making out a clearing in the distance. A plateau of sorts accompanied by a small stream. Finally.
Ravvus stomped out of the woods and into the clearing, only to cover his ears from the sound of an alien shriek. A call, like that of wolves, but warped and more threatening. Ravvus had heard this tune before. It was that of the dead. Dead dogs to be exact. Fortune smiled upon the man.
Rushing to the edge of the plateau, Ravvus entirely ignored the two figures standing by the stream. His concern was the monsters below. He peeked over the cliff, spying a host a undead beasts rushing from the mouth of a cave. At last. Combat. Ravvus leveled his right hand. He would have his fun with these creatures before dispatching them properly. The pack of dogs began circling around the plateau. Ravvus smiled. They would not reach this plane unscathed. Pointing at the pack of dogs, Ravvus flicked his thumb against his pointer finger, sending small, seed-like embers hurtling towards the undead creatures. Bits of flame pelted the decaying flesh of the creatures, striking everywhere from their rotten legs to their blood-shot eyes. The beasts barked and grimaced under the hail of fire, scattering in their attempts to avoid the projectiles. Ravvus' tome split open, as did his mouth in a toothy grin. The mage uttered a fireball into being. A pair of tendrils, on opposite sides, slinked out of the orb of heat.
Come. ”Come, hellspawn!” The mage called gleefully.
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Post by The Madness on Mar 14, 2016 9:47:37 GMT -6
The land was healing. A pleasant surprise, truth be told. While there were burned areas, craters and such, and areas where undead lived that were not yet under her control, parts of the land had healed. Trees were alive, new saplings were growing, bushes and thorns galore. Even animals had returned, and she had instructed her men to avoid harming those creatures, unless their hides were required. Some animals had been slain before, and she had resurrected them, but mostly the slaughter had been avoided completely. Her plated boots stomped trough the mushy ground... It had rained some time ago. It felt almost relaxing.
The air was wet too. Maybe it would rain again? Ostia was not the most humid of regions, not at all, yet rain was good. It made the earth easy to mold, it would bring forwards nature, and most of all it'd heal the land. It had been far too often abused by humanity in their greed and reach for the heights they were not meant for, and she often wept at the thought of this world having to deal with such vermin at it's side constantly. Did her king share these concerns, though? He had to. He was all-encompassing, all understanding, all powerful. The king cared for this world.
She could hear sounds in the distance. The arum tightened her hold on Seelenschmaus, black drippy tar like substance seeping from the tip and onto the ground, disappearing almost instantly into a black smoke that floated upwards. She begun to head that-a-way.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2016 19:15:38 GMT -6
After quite the hassle Venford did manage to get Prince to land, though how wise an idea that was could easily be left up for debate. Venford breathing a calming sigh while Prince relaxed on his talons, the red-haired wanderer took in his surroundings. It was clear that...something...had happened here. However it was not as desolate as he had always been forewarned the Ostian landscape should be. In fact it was actually rather peaceful. Quiet.
Venford actually wasn't a big fan of "quiet" or "quaint" most of the time, but even he had learned throughout the years to really appreciate these moments as they came. He stretched his arms far above his head and grinned as he felt, and heard, his shoulders cracking. Riding didn't leave him as tense as the first few flights did, but he still felt a bit locked up if he was on Prince for too long.
"All right, the area looks safe enough. Let's say I climb off you and we rest..." Venford trailed off when he turned his amber eyes onto his winged companion. Prince was staring intently to the left, his hawk-like eyes slit like thin knives. They were narrowed as well, and Venford knew that look all too well. It was the same look Prince had given him when he first met the griffon, just before the winged beast assaulted him and those poachers. It meant he saw something dangerous. A threat. An enemy.
"Okay, guess not." Venford quietly resigned himself as he gripped his leather reins with his left hand. He brought his right hand up to the handle of his sword and gripped it gently. Not too tight, that never ended well, but he was ready. "H'yup" As simple command urged Prince forward, the griffon swiftly picking up speed before taking flight once again.
Venford and Prince both scanned the ground beneath them. They were nearing the base of a cliff and, sure enough, Venford could make out two individuals. A man and a woman? Very likely...and they looked to be surrounded by some...oh hells, what were those?!
Without a second thought Venford gave the reins a small tug downwards leaned forward, Prince taking a nosedive towards one of the creatures. The red-head focused intently, as he couldn't afford to screw up the timing of these dive-bomb attacks. They seemed to be Prince's preferred action in combat but they were still so different from charging on horseback: if he wasn't focused he could fall off...or worse, he could injure Prince.
As both the ground and one of the hounds drew dangerously near Venford had Prince rear up, his talons barely grazing along the tips of the grass on the ground, while Venford simultaneously drew his sword and swung it at one of the beast's sides. Ven's blow connected firmly, knocking the beast to the side, but it was not fatal enough to down the fell creature for long.
"Hey there! You two looked like you could use a talon!" Venford called out. As an afterthought he realized that, as per usual, Prince would likely be as foreign a creature to them as these hell hounds were to him. So he shot the two a grin, his gaze lingering more on the lady. "Don't mind my griffon though. He's just my mount! Think of him like an extra-feathery pegasi! He's even got a name: it's Prince! Mine's Venford though! Venford Aelfgar! Don't mix us up!"
It was a lot easier to be lax when you were a solid twenty feet in the air. Still Venford could recognize that, yes, this was in fact a battle. So he readied his sword arm and gripped Prince's reins tightly, ready to make another attack.
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Mar 16, 2016 20:34:53 GMT -6
"Oh, Taker's Boots! it sees us!" Loreley cursed, invoking the name of one of the eight constellations of her home. Sailors all around Wake had used that name for for ill fortune and bad luck. These monsters represented every bit of misery and evil that she could think put a name to, so it seemed the Taker's Boots would be worn here on the Ostian earth as well.
"Ugh... How is that thing even alive?!" It was a horrible thing to look at, looking more dead than living. It didn't look like it should be up and moving, but her eyes remained fixed on the horrific beast as it stood. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears in protest at the curdling howl that the animal produced, but was still frozen in place by... something between disgust and awe as she got a better view of it running. Only seeing and hearing more of them running out from the cave beneath them shocked her back into motion. Don't stop! Never stop when you're in danger!
Derick was acting strange. Almost like he was caught up in a fever dream, or something. "What!? Pick them off?" The archer looked around again, taking in their surroundings and seeing all the strange hound creatures disappearing into the nearby trees. Her eyes grew wide as she realized he wanted to fight them here. But here, they were backed into a corner! They couldn't stay here with those creatures all around. Running wasn't safe either, but here these things would simply push in and tear them apart.
The tanned traveler hurriedly slung her walking stick across her back, and pulled down her bow, jamming its end into the ground and bending it over a leg to string it quickly. "Derick, we have to go! They'll just back us off the cliff here!" She looked around, seeing few options other than back into the brush.
The two woods travelers were in luck today as it seemed though. away from the group, the magic of nature was being set loose on the surrounding area and on the corrupted hounds drawing attention of some of the pack, even if Lore hadn't noticed it herself. As she looked for a way down off of their high perch, she saw some of the creatures come up towards them, growling in an unnaturally bestial way as they prowled closer. She felt herself swallow as her eyes went wide and she reached for an arrow. There was no stepping back now. There was a nasty plummet that side. Maybe they would get trapped up here. She would have to rely on Derick to keep them away from her.
Right as she thought the beast was going to dash forward, some... something saved them! As strange a beast as any she could have imagined swept in and the beast fell. Knocked to the side by the swipe of a rider's blade, no less! Her eyes kept their widened nature as she took in the majestic flying creature they'd seen from before, and its redheaded rider. The sunkissed blonde was left a little slackjawed, and the man riding the beast was half way through his introduction before she even realized what was going on. Did he say his name was Prince Aelfgar Venford? It didn't really matter to her right then! He wasn't a hell hound, and he seemed willing to assist.
"Help us get away from these things!" That was about all she could manage right then, in all the chaos and the panic. "We need to get away or find a bottleneck!"
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Mar 17, 2016 20:17:15 GMT -6
thud, Thud, THUD Derick drew in a deep breath, and steadily exhaled as blood pounded through his veins. It had been weeks since he last saw combat, and had almost convinced himself that he didn't miss it, but his exhilarated heart said otherwise. Many soldiers before Derick spoke of the thrill of battle, the rush that came when one strove against opposition with their life at stake. If only it were that simple... Derick had yet to experience that feeling, as he felt no fear in battle, gave no second thought to the odds or the outcome. Instead, his delight lie in the destruction.
A hot breeze rushed over Derick's skin, he frowned involuntarily as a horrific draft of smoke and rotting flesh filled his nostrils. Derick exited his reverie, his curiosity aroused, and found himself staring at a man who launched fire from his bare hands! Is that... a mage? Derick's experiences with mages were minimal, he had never seen a spell cast in combat before. "Wow..." The word slipped between Derick's teeth as he witnessed a fireball destroy one of the beasts below in a burst of flame. "H-hey there!..." Derick hailed the mage, but hesitated as he was unsure how one went about ordering around a complete stranger. No, not a stranger. Anyone killing these hellhounds is in a ally. The thought guided Derick's next words: "You wanna make your over here? I'll cover you! The name's Derick."
A guttural, hostile growl spun Derick around. One of the fell canines had flanked them, and was heading straight towards Loreley. Derick readied his lance, but was taken aback as a shadow swooped in from the canopy above. There was a flash of steel, and then the hellhound was launched by the force of a blow, trailing a foul ichor through the air before landing twenty paces away from where it was standing. Instinct seized Derick, he was temporarily deaf to the airborne newcomer's introduction as he sprinted toward the hound's landing site.
The hellish creature's muzzle foamed with spittle as it found its feet again. Derick flipped his lance in his hands as he came to a halt in front of the beast and dealt it two fierce blows with the butt of his lance. The crunch of bones breaking reached Derick's ears as the hound toppled over. Derick's lips formed a cruel smile as he brought the blade of his lance to bear and cut along the grain of a fresh-looking wound. The smile expanded as the beast was nearly cleaved in two, each strike filled Derick with a greater measure of ecstasy. Derick's bliss was undisturbed as another hellhound leapt at him from the underbrush. Seems like their attacks are coordinated at some basic level... The beast had more momentum than Derick had anticipated. In an instant, Derick was knocked to the ground, with the beast's teeth reaching for his throat.
Derick blocked the attempt on his life by holding his lance at chest height and barring off the beast's throat. Derick struggled with the fiend, constantly re-positioning his lance to keep the beast from getting a bite of him. As spittle dribbled onto his face, Derick broke the stalemate by slipping the blade of his lance in to make a quick incision. The beast hesitated, distracted by its wound. In that moment, Derick thrusted his arms forward and launched the wounded beast off of himself, toward the rest of the group, using the haft of his lance. Derick rose, breathing heavily as he prepared to give chase. Recalling his earlier requirement to stay in control this battle, Derick regretfully released the feeling and turned back to Loreley and the newcomer.
"Prince V-Venford? Thanks f-for the help." Derick tremored slightly as the afterglow of a fresh kill washed over him. It dimly occurred to Derick as he gave the rider and his strange mount a once over that he had never met nobility before, and was almost grateful for the bloodthirsty thoughts preoccupying his mind as he casually addressed the royal rider. Derick frowned at Loreley's insistence that they flee, but brightened up as he realized the hellhounds were likely faster than most of the group. The group would be killing no matter what course of action they chose, if Derick had to run while he did so, then so be it. Derick loosened his pack of belongings and let them fall to the floor with a muffled thud. His only possessions now were his light leather armor and his lance. "Alright th-then..." He nodded to Loreley, and then gave the group eager grin that Loreley would already be well acquainted with. "Lead the w-way, I've got your back."
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Mar 20, 2016 11:52:19 GMT -6
With a flick of his wrist, Ravvus sent the fire orb spinning towards the pack of dogs. It's thick, twin tendrils, bowed at their midsections giving the projectile the appearance of a misshapen 'S'. The tether-like arms each collided into a frenzied dog, casting the unfortunate, gibbering monstrosities off of their feet and onto the earth. In a spectacular flash, the spell exploded, incinerating the closest mutts, and sending the others flying. The undead wolves howled in agony as what was left of their decaying forms was consumed with fire. The creatures, breaking formation, scattered from the smoldering, black patch of land, where a third of their pack's skeletons now lay. Undaunted and tenacious, the dogs continued their hunt. The pack was now split in two, with one group moving right and finding a beaten path leading to the top of the plateau. The other attempted to scale a pronounced rock formation on the left side of the cliff.
Ravvus' grin widened. Even in the face of such power these beasts couldn't be deterred for a moment. Some of them were literally alight with fire, but ignored the pain in favor of cornering their quarry. The mage shivered with anticipation. His right arm twitched for the first time in some time. Ravvus clapped his hands together and, upon pulling them apart, conjured a whip of flame between them. The mage started to extend the length of the whip before suddenly being interrupted by the voice of an interloper. The spell fizzled.
The combat-craving sorcerer turned to see a pair of blondes further along the plateau. One of them had a darker tone to her skin, and Ravvus quickly surmised her to be from the Western Isles or of Nabatan heritage. Next to her was a soldier. He seemed nervous, excitable even, but otherwise plain. It was the form above them that caught Ravvus' attention. The image of a pegasus, but bulkier and brown of hair. The head of a bird and the body of a lion. It's massive wings beat away dust and small pebbles on the ground. A man wearing a black cape, possibly of Lycian or Bernese descent, rode atop the bird... horse? Bird-lion? A man in a black cape rode atop the bird-lion. The mage's eyes widened in wonder. His arm ceased twitching, and his lust for combat receded from his bloodstream. Ravvus was in awe.
The mage had no great yearning to assist the company of three. Ever since his encounter with the Scorched Behemoth, Ravvus was wary of fighting the undead alongside anyone but himself. However, he was far too fascinated with the bird-lion to be concerned with such dilemmas. ”No need. You'll find I'm more than capable of covering myself.” Ravvus called back to the soldier. Re conjuring the whip, the mage charged toward the company of fighters. ”You don't really intend to run from such resilient prey, do you?”
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Post by The Madness on Mar 21, 2016 10:23:15 GMT -6
A bear. Old, clearly. One eye had been impaled by a spear or an arrow, she wasn't too sure which. The shaft had been broken, and the only thing that even hinted at one of the two options impaling the eye was the fact that she could see a tiny bit of wood sticking out from the socket. The bear was near death, growling and nearly howling as it's deep red blood flowed out onto the ground, sinking into the mud. She wasn't too sure on what was the cause of death for this animal. The arrow/spear seemed old, too old to cause death... Or perhaps an infection had ran wild on the poor being. Or perhaps it had been ambushed by some animals. Hopefully not hers.
She took a few careful steps, dark plate armor sinking into the mud for a moment. She casually yanked her feet out of it. She'd grit her teeth if she had any. The one problem with the soil was that it could get oh so annoying sometimes. She hovered over the dying queen of the forest, plated hand calmly placing against it's chest, feeling the heart thump slowly but surely. A small sigh left the arum as she drew Seelenschmaus, letting the black tar drip on the ground for a moment. She spoke a few prayers in her tongue out to the nature, to the king, and to the bear itself before stabbing her spear right trough the beating heart of the bear. It growled, but it did not suffer for long, as it's body went limp and began to lose it's warmth. She twisted her spear for a moment before yanking out. Black tar was already seeping inside the broken heart, and into the veins. Soon, the queen of the forest shambled up, growling and with red eyes.
"Come, mother bear." She turned heel and made for deeper into the forest. The now undead bear followed, stomping across the wet and fresh earth.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2016 15:43:20 GMT -6
"Oh come on, I said not to mix us up!" To Venford's chagrin the stuttering blonde man seemed to mishear him. That had already happened once since Ven returned to Elibe with Prince, with some idiot following him around town and constantly referring to him as "my liege". He didn't even know what kingdom he was the prince of!
As with most things in life, however, Venford was quick to move on. He could act aloof whilst airborne, provided those haggard hounds didn't have wings waiting to sprout, but the people he intended to lend a hand to were still stuck on the ground with them. It appeared the could fight, the stutterer had a strange polearm, and his cute friend brandished a bow. Cute, but dangerous...seriously. If she wasn't good with that thing Prince would wind up as the first griffon sized pin cushion in Elibe.
The chaotic mess seemed to grow larger. Prince clicked his beak as a mage's spell broke the formation that the fiendish hounds had set up. Ven's eyes were quickly drawn to the fire, the flames glinting in his eyes even from that distance. It was an impressive show: enough that Venford let out a holler at the sight. "Whoo! Nice shot there!" but then again Ven knew nothing of magic. Either way the fire proved to be incredibly effective...yet the beasts tried their damnest to fight through it even when engulfed.
This mage seemed eager, excited by the challenge presented before them. He asked the trio, presumably anyway, if they intended to run away.
"Well er, to be fair I intended to FLY away, with these two in tow." Venford admitted with a slight chuckle. Why fight when he could have Prince scoop up the stutterer and the cutie in his talons? But they seemed to be holding their ground for now...so long as Prince had the stamina to keep flying he could protect them. "But if you really want to fight them, then I hope you have a plan!"
Of course, Venford never really was one to WAIT for a plan.
Contradicting his own demands, or perhaps simply giving into his own desires, Venford clicked his heels against Prince's sides. The griffon stirred instantly, flapping his wings hard and propelling them straight at the smaller grouping of dog-beasts. Most of them were just as quick as Prince, much to Venford's shock, and leapt aside whilst gnashing their vile teeth. However the one that was slowest in evading quickly became the target of Prince, with Venford catching on in time to prepare himself. Griffons were predators, after all. They knew to target the weakest link.
First Prince's talons raked the beast's side, his hooked claws tearing strips of flesh clear off the beast's body. Venford followed the strike up but less than a second later with a slash across the top of it's head, the collision of metal on fetid flesh creating a gushy "thwunk!" sound. Venford gripped his sword tightly, but kept his arm just bent enough not to have the force of Prince's flight strain it. After all, as hard as Ven could swing a sword, simply allowing a mount's velocity to make up for that force was key in mounted combat.
And Prince's velocity proved to be more than sufficient, as Venford's blade tore through the beast's head cleaved a chunk of flesh clear off the hound's scalp!
"Yes!" Venford thought to himself as Prince pulled back up into the air. Every other time they had pulled off such a combo Venford either fell off the griffon or came too close to doing so to his liking. He had Prince pivot in mid-air to perform a follow-up assault, but gawked in disbelief. That creature was still standing!
The gravity of the situation began to dawn on him once again, so rather than immediately divebomb the creatures he quickly consulted his new "allies".
"Okay, do any of you know just what the hell we're fighting here?!" Venford asked, his shock and disbelief clear on his features. Who'd have thought the man on a griffon would be asking that question?
Prince himself, however, did not seem so fazed. Rather the griffon's eyes narrowed deeply, his instincts beginning to kick in fully. The griffon let out a fearsome shriek an in attempt to frighten or startle the creatures.
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