|
Post by Althea on Dec 21, 2016 17:44:58 GMT -6
Nabata was truly a... wonderful subject for research. She didn't care much for the weather, but Althea hardly even noticed it aside from the bare necessities, far too focused on the goal at hand. Nan Madol, a mythical city lost to the obscuring mists of the distant past. Perhaps not quite akin to finding the legendary Arcadia itself, but no less mysterious; it was said to have once been the home of mighty sorcerer-kings, with mythical powers that no mage in modern Elibe could even dream of. But unlike Arcadia, it had not been a utopia. A brutal society using slavery to build its monuments and torture and obliteration alike on its foes. Some tales said that they had been betrayed from within, others that the good men of Elibe had banded together to destroy them once and for all - but according to most stories they had simply disappeared entirely from the annals of history one day.
Whether their evil had come back to haunt them, or a truly powerful enchantment gone wrong, no one could answer. It had appealed to her since she had learned of it... a city as mysterious as Arcadia, but far less perfect - and therefore far more likely to have existed.
Of course the real problem was never just looking through a couple dusty buildings. Nabatan archaeology was another beast entirely - a discipline entirely reliant on the shifting sands themselves being kind enough to reveal what they hid, usually in the wake of sandstorms powerful enough to disturb the shifting dunes. Archaeology was always seasonal, but the Nabatan branch was just as dependent on chance and quick reaction as the season, making it... somewhat less popular despite the incredible treasure trove of knowledge to be found there. Which was why she liked it so much. The horrific heat and dryness didn't really bother her when she was on the hunt, after all, and she had learned how to protect herself to a degree, though admittedly getting caught in a sandstorm would, er, likely still be fatal. Fancy book and annoying little 'helper' didn't change that.
At any rate, for the time being she was just waiting outside the ruins for her... tentative partner to show up, a young mage she had only really conversed with via mail. Althea was quite used to going solo, but she had learned the hard way more than once that sometimes you REALLY wanted a friend along when delving into the larger and more dangerous expeditions, and while the reports of what had been unearthed were nowhere near a full story, it was worth checking out nonetheless. If he didn't show up soon she was just going to go in herself, though.
You know if this IS actually Nan Madol, you shouldn't be going anywhere near it, much less alone, right? Althea ignored the thought-warning, not willing to even discuss being turned away.
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Dec 21, 2016 19:47:54 GMT -6
Nabata was hell. If you were to read about the desert from a textbook you would be informed of the scorching heat in the day and the frigid chill of it's nights. That the dunes moved like giant wave on an endless ocean disorienting travelers and burying lost secrets. What the books failed to mention, Was the hundreds of little things one had to pick up on in the desert. Like the ever-changing consistency of the sand. Sometimes firm and easy to tread on, yet suddenly your boot be swallowed by the dunes and only a supreme effort could pull it free. Or how direct exposure to the sun would start to boil your brain, making your vision swim and it hard to focus on a single coherent thought. Or, as this traveler had discovered firsthand, any skin exposed to open air starts to crack and blister before painfully peeling away.
Bryn was not a fan of Nabata. In fact, given enough time in this place he felt his death may in fact be an inevitability. Oh, he had prepared his darnedest to be sure. Strapped to his back was a rather substantial pack filled with water skins, rope, a shovel, brushes, dictionaries of ancient languages... He sucked in a sweaty half-breath from the confines of the white scarf he had wrapped around his face to protect himself while rubbing his red hands together to sooth his bright red itching skin. It wasn't enough. Or maybe all his preparation wasn't addressing the real problems he was having. Regardless, as he crested over the latest sand dune he breathed out an aching sigh of relief to see a white figure waiting for his arrival. He had managed to find the right location, at the very least.
Hoisting the bag on his back eagerly into a more comfortable position, Bryn made his way down the dune half-walking and half-sliding down the sand as it gave way underneath him until he was finally within proximity to his partner. He had sent two letters to the woman after discovering Nabata as her intended destination. One, Simply a dry missive explaining some of his talents in an attempt to be selected for the journey and the second, a confirmation of his participation and expected time of arrival. Through these he had learned little about the woman herself, though he could infer at least a little from the excavation he was planning to take part in. Pulling down the scarf at his face, Bryn began his introductions.
"Hello! I'm assuming you're Althea, yes? Bryn Durnin at your service. I'm ah, sorry to have kept you waiting. The trip was admittedly a bit more harrowing than I expected."
Rubbing his hands together again a bit self-consciously, Bryn extended a one to shake with the woman in front of him, taking the chance to catch his breath and examine his partner for this expedition a little more closely.
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Dec 21, 2016 22:37:07 GMT -6
"Hm?" Tearing her attention away from drinking in the sights and sounds and sensations of the ancient ruins, Althea forced herself to recall that there was a 'rest of the world' that still existed, and that there were people in it, and that oh yes she was supposed to be waiting for one of them! Right. She had been paying something less than zero attention at all to his arrival so it took a moment to locate the mysterious disembodied voice of the new arrival, but after a somewhat confused moment Althea did so. At least it wasn't a giant horde of monsters descending on her this time. She could do without the drama. Or the fighting.
Turning more fully to meet the new entry to the scene, Althea smiled warmly as she removed her own hood and facial coverings, meeting his hand with the one she still had free. She was wearing a cloak over her dress so she didn't exactly cut an angelic sight nor was her usual frailty quite as evident, but her gentleness was evident on her face nonetheless. "Yes, of course. It's wonderful to meet you, Bryn." He did look like a nice young man, definitely the studious type, probably a bit younger than her, though he didn't seem to be armed.
He smells of the Nether.
To her eternal pride, Althea managed to betray very little of her reaction outwardly at the unwelcome intrusion. She was getting better at that! And it was actually useful information (probably), assuming that he hadn't just taken a short stroll through a particularly dark alleyway or something. Interesting information at least. Potentially useful. Hm. Well, it wouldn't hurt to check and see what his reaction was. Of all people, Althea was... one of the last who would have a problem with him being a shaman, she hoped he didn't take it too offensively, but it was a data point that could prove useful should their descent into the ruins prove more dangerous than she had expected. "Please pardon my rudeness, but may I ask if you wield elder magics?"
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Dec 23, 2016 17:56:58 GMT -6
Bryn withdrew his hand and smiled to himself before the end of Althea's introduction caught him entirely off-guard. Elder Magics. Blinking in shock as he stared at the woman in front of him in askance. How had she? Briefly, Bryn's eyes darted down to reassure himself that yes, the ever-present satchel at his side was closed and undisturbed, tome tucked safely inside. A little unnerved, his eyes drifted back to his partner. He wasn't particularly ashamed of his calling but to be called out on it gave an unpleasant feeling. Still, honesty was the best policy.
"Ah... yes I'm a practitioner of elder magic. I hope that won't be a problem. I promise I'm no one sinister."
Despite how young she looked, to pick him out must mean Althea was uncannily perspective. Bryn had heard of people who managed to walk relatively unaffected by the passage of time he silently postulated to himself that she may be far older and more experienced than her harmless exterior seemed to indicate. The weight of the sun was beating down on him already though, and any complicated probes into who she truly was would have to wait for his head to cool down.
"If you don't mind me asking what gave it away? I didn't think I looked nearly dark or mysterious enough for the role, honestly."
Bryn hesitated only briefly before adding an addendum to his inquiry.
"Do you have a place not so directly exposed to sunlight we could talk at? Supposing I'm still an acceptable partner for you?"
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Dec 23, 2016 21:10:30 GMT -6
[OOC: Althea actually did take his hand, first sentence of paragraph 2]
"Oh!" Clasping her hands together for a moment in the wake of their renewed freedom. Althea smiled as winningly as she could manage, though the success of that was entirely in the eye of the beholder. "Not in the least!" It was actually kind of funny given the circumstances, she hadn't thought that question through at all. It had just been an off the cuff comment, a knee-jerk reaction of sorts to Eris's little... comment. With the benefit of hindsight she could see that it could have been worded much better. "I am as well, actually. I just, ah, had a feeling." She wasn't lying, anyways. It was a... half-truth, one born of necessity. Althea didn't particularly enjoy lying, but neither did she particularly relish the idea of trying to explain to anyone else that she was very possibly legitimately crazy, especially not to another shaman who would know for sure that she was legitimately insane.
After all, while the Nether was their ally, it was not a friend, and history was full of stories of what happened to those of their order who gave too much to the darkness. "Please, forgive me for the unwelcome surprise." There was no need for her to explain - both of them were shamans. They both knew what regard dark magic had in Elibe. While the raw hatred that Etruria held towards the practice of elder magics was not universal, there were few places in Elibe that could truly, universally, say that they accepted it either. But he did raise a good point. She didn't particularly want to stand around exposed to the sun for long either; she did not like the idea of sunburn. "And yes, of course, we should head to the shade immediately."
The actual building itself, what might possibly be a part of Nan Madol, was... less intimidating or impressive than an ancient city of magic would sport, she thought, but it did look fairly temple-ish, the cavernous maw of darkness within stretching out to eternity, or at least as far as the light could illuminate. VERY happy to be out of the light, Althea shed the rest of her cloak to return to her more usual form of dress, beginning to prepare her essentials before they descended into the depths below. As was somewhat of her wont when with others, she attempted to make him feel more comfortable, doubly so in the wake of her earlier miscalculation, by drawing him into conversation. "It's exciting, isn't it? Even if this is not truly a fragment of Nan Madol, it may be related, or an insight to another civilization entirely. Nabata is truly a home to magic and mystery!"
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Dec 26, 2016 5:10:58 GMT -6
As Althea smiled graciously at Bryn she let out another fact he wasn't expecting. She happened to be an elder mage as well. Though Bryn supposed that wasn't such a surprising notion. Most of their ilk had an insatiable urge for knowledge and power. That heavy desire could be likened to a coal, and the nether was a monstrous fire. The deeper a practitioner's hunger for knowledge and power, the longer they could be exposed to the nether until the inevitable. Bryn smiled wryly back at Althea. At least that was one theory.
"Then again, I am relieved to meet your acquaintance. It would have been very awkward to end this journey before it even began. In gratitude I'll accept your 'feeling' at face value. Though now you've got me curious."
Bryn's eyes lit up with a bit of humor as he added that last part. If knowledge was power, then a mystery was a tease that this man couldn't resist. The duo paused in the darkness of the ruin, Bryn taking this time to pull out a torch from his pack and striking flint and steel over it as Althea shed her overcloak. He listened as his partner began to ramble eagerly on about the possibilities this ruin presented, his mood steadily rising to a crescendo. On another subject he may have taken note of the not so subtle redirect of the conversation, but this was something too good to pass up, and his eyes flared brightly with the firelight and his own enthusiasm.
"I'm in complete agreement with you there. The dry air of Nabata does wonders to preserve all sorts of historical details a more temperate region of the world might destroy. The fact that so many artifacts are found here may be in large part due to the nature of the desert itself."
Taking the time to peer into the dark around him the aid of the flame, the deep gloom lightened into only a general derelict murk and his eyes wandered to the cut of the stones lining the walls. They were in remarkably good condition. The stonework was solid and not a spec of light could be seen from the outside, and this was after anything they might have used as mortar long since faded away. It was remarkable as a scholar, yet also suddenly so very sad.
"Long ago I pondered upon a theory as I was reading about the desert. Nabata may have been a large empire at some point in time. The similar structures found in opposite edges of the dunes are a part of it. So many lost cities. So much ancient wonder. I wonder. Men have found so many relics of remarkable power under these dunes, sometimes only under a meter or two of sand. What kind of place was this as a whole... before it's descent into ruin and it became a myriad of myths?"
Bryn felt a bit foolish after he had finished, that dark thought of his aired out into the open. Seizing the moment, he walked over to Althea and let the light engulf the two of them before giving her a lopsided smile.
"It's food for thought, at any rate. Now fearless leader. Shall we set off into the unknown?"
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Dec 27, 2016 2:34:39 GMT -6
"Curiosity killed the cat, my friend," the albino shaman responded with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous but reserved half-smile to her companion. It was no threat of course, even if she had looked vaguely intimidating it would have been hard to take it seriously, but Althea didn't really plan to volunteer much more information unless he pushed or it became relevant. What was there to tell anyways? She was going crazy and sometimes someone who might not be her thought in her own mind? How would you even describe that - just the stereotypical 'voices in my head' approach to convince everyone that you were truly insane?
At any rate, Bryn seemed almost as eager as her to get going, and while she had... some level of experience with magic now, Althea was still much more comfortable just doing research than fighting for her life. It was a comfort zone of sorts for her, not just one of her interests, making final preparation almost mindless as she affixed gear and lit torches and ran over mental checklists in the back of her head. This was what she did. It was what she loved. She caressed the torch almost lovingly, ensuring she had a firm grip, and prepared to actually descend while listening to Bryn's theory. It was a good one, not the first time she had heard something similar but that didn't make it any less interesting or potentially accurate.
"That is the question, is it not?" A rhetorical question... about a question. Deep. She didn't wait for an answer. "There are so many theories as to what happened. If Nabata was truly always a desert. Some say that it was once a prosperous empire, brought low by the earth itself in return for their cruelty, similar to the legends of Nan Madol itself. Some say that it was simply the victim of a terrible weapon, a power so great that even the Legendary Weapons were but pale imitations - a magic so great that it could scour a third of the continent of life in a heartbeat."
Peering down the stairs into the abyss, the flickering light of the torch partially illuminating the closer reaches of the descent but not penetrating all that far in, she pursed her lips with a small degree of disappointment. "-And some say that the Scouring drained the land of life... a necessary sacrifice to destroy the beasts threatening humanity. And some say that it was victim to a great beast crashing to the earth long ago, sometimes the king of the dragons, sometimes a god, whose fall wrought havoc on the land."
Which did she believe? All of them. None of them. Althea enjoyed imagining what could have happened. What the world had been like before Nabata had fallen from its former glory. Had it been a glorious civilization that put the Elibe of today to shame? A place of magic? The birthplace of a weapon so great that it had consumed the world around it? The possibilities stretched on, to infinity and beyond, like glittering stars in the sky or grains of sand in the desert.
Beginning the short descent down the ancient stairs into the dusky underground hall beyond, Althea turned her head halfway back to her companion, directing her words to him more directly in the absence of a need to focus on other tasks just yet. "And what do you think, Bryn? Was the Nabata of yesteryear a paradise on earth, or just another nation on Elibe? Were they brought low by tragedy or justice?"
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Dec 27, 2016 22:03:39 GMT -6
Bryn's eyes danced over the walls as the pair traveled further into the building, reaching stone stairs that slowly descended into a much more open hall, the walls stretching back beyond what the meager light of the torches could illuminate. An entryway room, a hall, then stairs leading downward into a larger enclosure. Bryn began trying to picture what each room could have looked like and for what purpose they served. He turned a bit thoughtful and stopped in his place as he thought about what Althea had said. What had caused this land to fall. He stood his ground and pondered.
"I'd like to imagine it was a utopia. But even if it was. Even if that thought was the founding ambition of this theoretical empire, men themselves are flawed. Our minds shift and change, the innovations we make oftentimes are turned against us and become our folly. If there were people to live in it, Nabata would be the same as every nation we know of now. This way please. It's easier to map an area if we stay close to the border."
Motioning with his torch Bryn pointed to the rightmost wall and continued into a sweeping arc, encompassing the darkness beyond their sight. Eventually his torch stopped moving, once again resting at his shoulder.
"As for if they were destroyed for good or for ill... Some things are simply meant to happen. Perhaps there is a time where civilization as we know it will crumble, and the historians will wonder the same about us?"
As he started at a half-pace around the room faint outlines began to become visible. Examining the markings on the wall, Bryn stooped and brought his torch closer. It was a nonsense jumble of images and lines, half faded and zig-zagging on the wall with no clear rhyme or reason to the meaning or even how (or if) it was meant to be interpreted.
"Now what do you make of this? I honestly know very little where language and writing is concerned."
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Dec 30, 2016 6:50:57 GMT -6
OOC: sorry about the wait!
Well, at least they weren't immediately assaulted by arrow traps or baked alive by a magical mine, so Althea was pretty satisfied with the expedition so far, even if it was a little uhh... dark in here. Not anything new to her though. She'd been in ruins before. But admittedly, she did wish sometimes that they came with built-in lighting, would be much easier to explore. At any rate, the insides were at least somewhat interesting, and Bryn was interesting company, neither lagging behind nor rushing ahead even as he inspected the building. Bereft of anything better to do, Althea more or less followed his lead for the time being, uninterested in a social power struggle as long as they got through the ruins alive and unharmed.
A utopia... little as she liked their sound, the shaman had to admit that her companion spoke brutal truth. Men were flawed. No matter how good your intentions might be, in the end people got hurt. Even Hargus and Kraft, at one time, may have had good intentions. Kraft might still, if he truly believed his deeds were for the 'greater good.' But she had seen what THAT brought to people. "I suppose, yes," Althea was forced to admit somewhat unhappily, though not at Bryn. "Perhaps I simply wished there was an exception to that truth. There are so many legends, from Nan Madol to even the fabled Arcadia, where the truth is doubtless so much uglier than the ideal we aspire to."
She usually liked to map from the left, but doing it Bryn's way was... acceptable. Somewhat less acceptable were the meandering scrawls he found inscribed in the wall further down, something she had never seen before. And that was saying something, because Althea was not exactly a new hand to the business of ruin exploring, and while she wouldn't say that forgotten tongues were her specialty or anything, she was far above the average in that regard as well. "How very curious. I've never seen anything like these before... how does one even read these? Left to right, right to left, circular scrolling inward, column by column..."
In the flickering light of the two torches, she sketched some of the passages(?) that stuck out to her the most, for future reference. "They certainly aren't any human dialect since the Scouring, at least, and definitely not to Low Draconic either. Oh, I do wish I could read what it says, it could be useful, anything from history to a warning... or, I suppose, juvenile graffiti. That would be my luck."
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Jan 2, 2017 23:01:42 GMT -6
The inscriptions on the wall were fascinating even without a proper key or context to interpret them with, but the lack of understanding got underneath Bryn's skin. As Althea examined the wall and seemed to draw as much knowledge as he had from it, though her musings caught him a bit off-guard. Draconic? This woman knew how to read dragon writing? Putting that aside, now he was envisioning the logistics of a giant wyvern attempting to hold a pen. Perhaps they carved stone with a talon? Bryn tried to dismiss the dozens of questions popping into his mind and halfheartedly chuckled at her assertion that the wall might just be centuries old vandalism. He looked again at the markings. For now without a clear method to decipher their meaning, that truly was what they were.
"Be it a cautionary tale or part of the reason this room was made for, I suppose their meaning is wasted on us for now. Hopefully we find an easier piece to decipher. Or perhaps we'll wake up an ancient specter who will be so glad for our company he'll teach us to write like civilized folk."
Bryn tried to downplay his disappointment at the dead end they had reached from the markings with a bit of humor as Althea had done. It was aggravating to have to leave their first real discovery as unsolved, even more so that he couldn't even offer a satisfying suggestion on its purpose. What use was a scholar who could only make wild speculations after all? With those cheery thoughts he resumed his measured steps and continued down the wall.
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Jan 8, 2017 15:22:24 GMT -6
"You know," Althea begin with a twinkle in her eyes and lilting amusement in her words, "Before I began my career poking around dusty old ruins, I had always thought there would be more of that. Deadly magical traps, ancient spectres to enlighten or threaten, legendary tomes and forgotten magics to be found. Instead..." she waved her hands to their surroundings, "dust allergies and graffiti. I pity the young archaeologist not sustained by a true love of this work." Of course she was being a little bit silly. Not mocking, but self-aware humor to a degree. Althea truly did enjoy gleaning knowledge of the past, or she wouldn't be here, and most likely neither would this Bryn fellow. But that didn't mean she couldn't poke a little fun at the conditions, did it now? After all, life without recognition of its inherent ridiculousness tended towards the depressing. Having a sense of humor about things made it far more bearable.
At any rate, they certainly weren't going to get much more value from the writing on the wall - heh - and Bryn seemed eager to move on anyways, so Althea acceded. Not like she was especially attached to where they were anyways. They didn't have to walk far before coming to something else interesting, another stairway deeper into the ruins, this time flanked by two statues seemingly clad in obsidian armor so dark that it seemed to consume light rather than reflecting it - armored knights whose features were obscured by their helmets. For better or for worse, though, they weren't on fire, on magic, animate, or otherwise obviously about to murder everyone in sight, so that was one small blessing at least!
"How interesting..." Althea ran her fingers lightly across the solid black surface of the statue's chinguard, not particularly afraid of them given their obvious lack of movement, but not entirely sure what to make of their presence. "It is as if they were meant to guard whatever lay below... perhaps this is actually a tomb to some forgotten ruler, or a temple of some sort?" Pursing her lips for a moment, she regarded the silent sentinels for a moment before turning to face and address Bryn directly. "This is clearly not Nan Madol itself, but it seems there may be some value here nonetheless. Would you like to continue exploring this room or search what lays beyond?"
But behind her there was motion, the statue she had touched raising the two-handed greatsword it had held before, bringing the weapon up for an enormous diagonal slash across the unwitting shaman's back in almost perfect silence.
OOC: tremendously sorry about wait, crazy week.
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Jan 13, 2017 19:19:10 GMT -6
"I was much the same. There are plenty of documented instances of treasure being found in Nabata after all, and no one likes to transcribe their failures. Revenant exist as well, so a thinking spirit couldn't be such an amazing stretch. Though If I found some young'uns exploring my tomb as a wraith, I would use my unlimited power to crush the interlopers."
Bryn chuckled a bit, waving his off-hand in a threatening motion before coming upon a junction to their right and a pair of matte black statues stood as grim guardians. It was remarkable that the pigment hadn't faded from the stone like it had the wall they had left behind. Was it actually metal? Even then it should have some sign of age, shouldn't it? Althea started taking steps forward, speaking as she ran her hand over one of the statues.
"It's a sign that whatever this place was made for, the ancients though it was worth pro-"
At first it seemed a trick of the torchlight dancing across the armors. But these armors didn't reflect any light. The gauntlets of the armor in front of Althea were slowly rotating. It was such a methodical and effortless movement that he stared blankly in confusion until Bryn saw the dark profile of a blade. The statue which was formerly resting it's hands on the pommel of it's weapon had begun rotating the blade into a striking position.
"No! No, no no nono!"
Bryn tossed his torch to the floor and dashed across the few feet separating him from Althea, doing the only thing he could think of. He tried to trip her. It was an easy enough maneuver on the unexpected. A hooking heel kick to the back of the knee, and then a shove to the upper body to knock the off-balanced opponent prone. In Elimine's name, Bryn had been the victim on numerous occasions in his boyhood years.
From over Althea's shoulder Bryn saw the blade coming down and he his legs straining as he stopped the momentum from his sudden acceleration, his arms waving like a madman to keep him upright and as far away from the greatsword as possible. It'd be such a fool thing to do to run straight into the blade.
The second Statue cocked it's head silently to the left, gazing impassionately at the trespassing duo before smoothly descending from the small platform they were both mounted on. Apparently they could move as well. This was probably the best time to inform his partner on their circumstances.
"A-armors! Moving! T-they're trying to kill us!"
As inelegant as his shouting was, Bryn's mind was a bit more occupied. These things had to be magical, but how were they being powered and by what? Light magic could form physical barriers, but he didn't know of any that lasted for more than a short while. These animated armors had lasted decades without seemingly being effected. Did Nan Madol's civilization predate Elimine? No, that didn't matter right now besides with spirits-... Spirits were something Bryn knew little about. Instead he decided to focus on what he knew. The Nether. How could Elder magic recreate this phenomenon? How would you go about 'killing' a construct that had been animated in that way?
OOC: Now I'm the one to be sorry. You gave me a juicy post and I couldn't muster up any enthusiasm to write. I guess we can just be sorry together. xP
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Jan 14, 2017 18:19:58 GMT -6
"What-"
Althea had a grand total of one real (albeit extended) fight in her life to speak of as battle experience went, so she most definitely did NOT see Bryn's 'attack' coming or really react to it until far too late to defend herself. Neither had she quite reacted to it mentally before she was already falling, caught somewhere between surprise and horror, trying to figure out if this was another pseudo-betrayal like Circe's or if Bryn had actually planned to lure her down here and kill her, or - oh hey there was the ground rushing up to meet her! Hello, floor, my name is Althea, how are you doiNGH.
To her eternal credit, she actually managed to keep from dropping or crushing the torch, or worse setting herself on fire - it was a weird thing to focus on but seeing Bryn hurl his torch aside had left her fearing that they would be stuck without light, and somehow that was more important than her own life. Mostly because she was apparently an idiot. Regardless, despite her lack of upper body strength she managed to keep from breaking anything or losing the torch, though the sudden jolt of the smooth dusty floor and pain in her arms was quite unpleasant, especially given her lack of durability. Confused, she rolled over, hoping to see what the actual hell Bryn was doing - and saw that he had meant as the unholy blade scythed through... yes, right about where she had standing! Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
Scrambling to her feet with all the graceful majesty of a duck having an epileptic seizure, the now somewhat dusty shaman peered through the darkness into the infinite abyss of the statues' armor. She was trying to reconcile what was going on with, say, anything that made goddamn sense. It didn't go well. "...Fascinating! I wonder how they move?" It was easy enough to forget the danger in the moment for the inquisitive scholar, but not... entirely wise. Not that her history was entirely filled with boundless wisdom in general. "Mou..." she pouted, glancing at Bryn, "I would love to study without destroying them. Do you think that would work?"
Yeah that was totally reasonable and likely to go just as well as she hoped.
|
|
Bryn
Shaman
Posts: 22
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Bryn
OoC Alias: Amauros
|
Post by Bryn on Jan 17, 2017 17:41:58 GMT -6
Bryn hustled backwards, pacing himself a comfortable distance away from the armor currently pulling it's sword back up to a ready position. Only a few moments had passed since the initial swipe, and he could feel his heart thundering in his ears as his mind raced a mile a minute. Althea however, wonderful companion she may normally be, seemed to be in a state of denial about their circumstances.
"This isn't the time to act cute! I'm not equipped to fight mythical weapons of a bygone era!"
As the first began a careful descent from it's pedestal, the leftmost armor started an aggressive advance towards the pair with it's sword raised high. Despite their formidable appearance and the fluidity of their motion the armors seemed relatively lethargic, giving Bryn time to shrug off his cumbersome traveling pack and hurl it at the incoming enemy-! And it thumped against the helmet of the creature causing it to briefly pause before the bag clattered to the floor. Bryn could hear something inside the pack give an audible *crack*, though in his heightened state of distress he couldn't put a name to what commonplace gear had sacrificed itself in his name.
Retreating even further to make room in between him and the two guardians, Bryn reached into the satchel at his hip and withdrew his tome from it's place. He spared a panicked glance to Althea.
"Do you know how these things might work? I'm not sure I'll be able to put a dent in these thing's armor, let alone deal a crippling blow."
The color from the world faded slowly began to drain from his sight as he drew on the Nether's power. The air around Bryn curdled, and from his outstretched hand a bolt of black force materialized before shooting off towards the advancing statue. Instead of quickly expanding and then detonating on the surface of the creature; the orb seemed to flow into the obsidian armor and disappear much like the way its surface seemed to absorb torchlight.
Letting out a helpless groan of frustration, Bryn froze in indecision. Would a continued bombardment eventually crack the guardians' resistance? Would it be wiser for them to flee the tomb entirely? How the hell did the ancients manage to walk past their own damn security system!?
|
|
|
Post by Althea on Jan 18, 2017 0:13:27 GMT -6
Wait, she was cute? Her? Althea's train of thought derailed impressively quickly before crashing through a barrier, slamming into and destroying a dam, and drowning millions of people in the wake of the carnage. Wait, no, maybe Bryn had just meant she was acting cute - oh this was a terrible time to be all dusty and musty - she needed a bath before she even thought about these matters, it was too soon, they'd only just met and-
Wait.
Visibly deflating as the rest of her brain finally caught up, Althea took a moment to survey her expression and pose before calmly responding to Bryn as though nothing whatsoever had happened, the very slight twinge in her voice probably just a trick of the wind. The wind that... wasn't there underground... yeah. "If they're animated by magic, enough magic may in turn de-animate them." It was logical, she thought; any sort of magical construct must have incredibly finely tuned essence flow to animate effectively. To interfere with it would be to effectively paralyze or cripple the statues... in theory.
That or they'd just be making them stronger.
"...Or at least interfere with their movement," she finished lamely, beginning to cast her own Flux spell between her hands, one still awkwardly holding the torch. It was a much slower channel than the one-handed attack from Bryn that she was secretly envious - Althea was... NOT a speed caster to put it lightly, never had been, she could cast flux just fine and pack a decent punch but any sort of quickcast was just beyond her. She was too methodical, too precise; things that sounded great on paper but were not always ideal in an actual fight.
Still, it was how she was. So rather than worry about it too much, Nayru instead focused on her channel, somewhat more confident in her abilities for basic combat after the events at the dig site with Circe; the Nether pooling between her hands was familiar in its own way now, a growing pool that beat against its barriers until it was freed to flow into the floor, motion hidden by the murky shadows of the area, erupting beneath the nearest construct in a burst of dark energy that would have done significant damage to a human body. Apparently no one had remembered to tell the animated suit of armor that, though; it paused its motion, but not for long, and looked none the worse for wear afterwards. She honestly couldn't tell if it had been disrupted or simply surprised by her attack, but it did seem that some level of resistance was in evidence - its survival of Bryn's attack had not been mere coincidence.
|
|