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Post by Drei on Jan 15, 2017 11:33:15 GMT -6
Drei was quiet once more after the initial bout of conversation. He'd spent enough waking moments outside his shell for the day. Now was time to cozy up within his shell and hide for a time. His words quiet and somewhat soft spoken as he spoke final words of temporary parting, thoughts drifting to solitude and solace. The steady heat of Khan Yunis lapsing when he stepped beneath the shadows over-cast by the building they'd just been in moments prior. His pale bangs clinging somewhat to his forehead from the thin veil of sheen upon his complexion that implied he was still not as well acclimated to the Nabatan heat as it's natives.
"Very well. I shall be here prior to sunrise."
The ashen haired boy examined Circe while she spoke, nodding to her wave in quiet response and making his way to the outer perimeter of the client's yard before taking his leave. Hands drifting to his sides with one palm sifting into heavy robe pockets as if to hide from the beams of light he drifted in-between while heading back to the relatively cozy inn he'd taken residence in. His other palm found and rested upon, his father's tome. Quietly thankful that he'd been able to utilize it so much. As if a lasting memento of his family, and the heritage he brought with him. It wasn't until he got back to his room though and isolated himself that he really began to think.
She'd asked him why he was wearing his robes. Which left him with a particular struggle. These robes, or robes of similar style had been his robes from as far back as he could recall. It identified him. It was who he was. No one else had robes like his. And yet....it was like he clung to the past. By owning only these he forced himself to drown in the events of his family's fall. Perhaps...he should own other clothes. No need to replace his robes...but he had to move on.
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Through out that day, Drei had spent it almost entirely isolated. The evening hung low and candle-light was the only source of light in his room. Candles littered atop dressers, desks and one atop the stool he kept in the center of his room. Open spaces...bothered him. He had to place something in most rooms he occupied like a center piece. Shadows danced along the walls, and as Drei began to commune with that singular sprawling vast entity he knew so well now it had almost become like his only lingering persisting friend. Someone he felt the presence of any any given moment.
And that was the danger, wasn't it? How easily it was to let that very old..powerful..cunning consciousness seem benevolent. How quickly one could forget that it was a very dangerous sentience. Drei's palms quietly clapped before he channeled within inner mind to draw forth the powerful elder magics. Dark tendrils writhing before his fingertips, with magic squirming around the space before his room. His robes rustling from the nether's essence and the flickering candle-lights dancing as palpable tendrils arced and jet through the room. Manipulating and guiding twin ruin spikes to expand and contract at will. All the while, extending or drifting his palms as if manipulating a series of turns or bends; almost as if the execution of the spell enhanced by physical guidance.
This communion was a lengthy one. Practice of all needs however, dictated that he go further than such. Magic was not his only skill-set.
Limbs extended. Once magic had fallen silent, and he cast the only moving shadow in the room, hands swept forwards before Drei pumped his body weight out and down. Until his palms clapped to the ground and he now rested with his weight poised upon his palms. Shifting and cartwheeling before he felt his spine begin to limber up and his muscles stretch fully. He dipped his weight to the left and spun into a pivoted hand-stand before acrobatically vaulting back to his feet with a flip. He could still recall his "aunt's" teachings. Though there was no high-wire within the room...he could pretend. Swinging his weight and pressing palms off the bed's wooden foot guard until he'd vaulted up and stepped one bit higher. His head inches from the roof and a single foot keeping him aloft the bed-post at the end right corner. Precariously poised as if fractions of a second from falling, before he spun his right leg and began to fluidically guide his momentum.
Every part of the surrounding furniture burned into his mind. To his left two feet away, another post. To his right, an idle chair. Legs too weak to support his weight abruptly. The table positioned two more feet behind that however would suit. Turning about and pumping his leg with a single strong motion his smaller frame vaulted with ducked head as to keep his vertical lunge from resulting in a concussion as he hit the roof, before he landed with a solid thud atop the desk. The ink-well and pen clattering about before he kicked off the desk lightly and somersaulted off the desk and onto the ground.
It was a fairly useless skill-set, his acrobatics, but one he enjoyed practicing almost as much as his magic. If only he had others to enjoy that with. Or the willpower to actually do such with others...
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Drei had little issues rising before Dawn. Sleep did not come easily. Waking terrors were not a trouble, but the slumbering ones...
So he approached the client's yard quietly. Hood cast upwards to cover most of his face and shield him from the heat more directly this time. Preserving his stamina if nothing else and keeping him cool longer. His tome was no longer hidden beneath his robes either, the black leather bound book dangling by a series of chains that secured it to his belt safely. The slight jingling of the chains now actually audible instead of muffled by his robes, and the ashen haired sacaen's fingers brushing the spine absently while he approached. His gaze ascending to Circe after briefly observing the other two men that would be assisting. His tone quiet as usual.
"I am here, and ready to leave when you are."
Yeah. Most conversations started with "Good morning! Good day!" or the like. Pleasantries long since lost on the boy but not forgotten. He simply...lacked the interest or focus in it. His mind was already to the future battle. The combat yet to come, and the encounter that entailed.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 15, 2017 21:48:19 GMT -6
Thankfully Drei did not keep Circe or the brothers waiting, the latter two would likely have dozed off on their feet if he had! Rather than a typical morning greeting, Drei went straight to business. Circe...just figured she ought to expect that, by this point. Fine. Good. It would help her keep focused on the mission at hand. Did little for her nerves, but to Circe's credit she dared not let them show.
“Perfect! Nazim, Ashim, this is Drei. He'll be my comrade in battle for this assignment.” Circe stated, her tone clear but still relatively chipper. The situation was not so dire that she had to let her usual cheer die down in her voice. The two brothers studied Drei with tired eyes, though his arrival did help them wake a bit. “Drei, meet Nazim and Ashim. Nazim will be our driver, and Ashim will handle the bait cargo.”
“Well met, Drei.” The brothers said in unison before, again in unison, they both stretched their arms. Nazim moved to climb atop the front of the wagon, grasping the reins of the twin horses that would pull it. “I guess it's time to get this show on the road, then?” Nazim said with a lazy tone. He was as ready as he was going to be, it seemed.
“Mhm. Ashim, get on up there. Make sure the cargo is secure.” Circe stated, turning to the other brother. He nodded and climbed into the back of the wagon. There was a tarp to cover up the boxes and space of the actual wagon proper, with a bit of an overhang to protect the driver, in this case Nazim, as well. Beneath that tarp were about six crates, empty save for some sand to keep them stable on the wagon. Ashim began to prod at the crates to test them, while Circe let out one small sigh before she turned to Drei.
Somehow, despite the fact that she had the benefit of a strategy, this venture was still far more frightening than her impromptu rescue of Althea had been. It was not that she doubted Drei. If anything he looked to have a bit more control over his magic than the female shaman did. Nor did she doubt Nazim or Ashim. Hell Circe didn't even doubt herself it was just...there was so much pressure. Beyond just her life. If this went wrong she could be responsible for three deaths. If it went well...she'd be responsible for four.
It was grim to think about, yet Circe accepted it all the same. She could not allow these raiders to keep harassing caravans. Not just for the sake of family business partners, but...because it was wrong. It was wrong and she could do something about it.
“If you're as ready as you say you are then climb on in, Drei.” Circe still held her chipper tone and gave the white haired youth a wink. Ugh, she HAD to stop doing...know what? No. She didn't. Circe was about to risk her life and orchestrate the deaths of others. She could wink at whoever she damn well pleased.
Without another word she climbed up onto the back of the caravan and made her way beneath the tarp.
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Post by Drei on Jan 17, 2017 0:41:06 GMT -6
Circe seemed very...loud for how early it was in the morning. Mila was quiet in the mornings. She had been his only traveling companion so he couldn't judge people as a whole in that aspect. His family had been loud though. Dancing, singing songs in many tongues. Symbols. Music. Chattering and banging things. Circe reminded him of this. While he was introduced to the two men, he quietly nodded towards them and moved to gaze at Circe.
A small part of Drei's wild ashen hair was out of place along the left side of his head. Part of his hair matted, and another part bent upwards in a cowlick from how he'd slept upon his pillow. The young dark mage strode along the side of the wagon while the other two men examined the contents and secured it. He tilted his head when the loud female mage spoke up about his readiness. She flashed a wink his way and had already leapt upwards by the time Drei was moving to the back to examine the interior space further with hands reaching up to clasp at either end of the wagon. Silently pulling himself upwards with ease, very experienced in pulling his body weight around in earnest, Drei shifted before quietly sitting down with folded legs, honeyed gaze turning towards Circe.
She was intriguing no doubt. What thoughts through her mind? Was she accustomed herself to masking her emotions or was it a pressure from the task at hand? A very faint grin twitched upon his expression as he spoke up, quiet tone containing the faintest hint of amusement.
"Are you ready?"
How will you react? How will your mask sustain? Will it crumble or fall? Will it change?
Visibly ready, Drei watched while he shifted to get a bit more comfortable. His palms clasped together and fingers laced together. He would likely maintain a similar poise the entire venture.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 17, 2017 1:34:36 GMT -6
Circe had seated herself one one of the bait crates. Unfortunately the wagon lacked any proper seating. It was not intended to have people riding in it, after all. Simply to carry cargo. Usually two drivers would sit at the front, where Nazim was, and any guards or others would ride alongside it. Either in a carriage or simply on horseback. Still, Circe had decided a crate was more comfortable than the hard bottom of the wagon.
Drei seemed to either disagree, or not even mind. More troubling than his lack of care for his choice of seating, though, were the words he had spoken to Circe. There was something about them that was almost...chilling. As if it were a challenge, rather than a suggestion. For the briefest moment she reconsidered EVERYTHING. Could she trust Drei? He had stated his motives, but she had only his word.
No, nonsense. She was simply reading into things too much. Rather than let those words lead her mind astray she refocused on what was important: the mission. That was enough to keep her mind busy as is. All the same, a small twitch of her eye was all that gave way from her mask. It was difficult to catch in the shifty lighting of the wagon, but it had happened all the same.
“Ready, Circe?” She heard Nazim call back. Well, either way, she had to voice her answer now. Yet rather than glance over her shoulder she kept her eyes fixed on the white haired young man in front of her.
“Ready!” She stated firmly. The eye contact didn't last any longer than it needed to. She had proven her point.“Ashim, Drei. Keep your eyes peeled out the back of the wagon. Nazim! You too! Eyes peeled for the targets as soon as we start passing the dunes!”
She was ready...right?
The ride hadn't been too long yet. About an hour or so away from Khan Yunis. Ashim had the foresight to bring extra skins of water, leave it to a tavern owner to remember to stay hydrated. He had long since offered one to Circe and Drei respectively. It was easy to assume Nazim had brought extras as well.
As for conversation? Hah, what conversation? Nazim and Ashim were notably nervous. They were ex-miners, so they were not completely new to the prospect of “danger”, but they had been tavern owners for years now. And not once were they ever mercenaries or soldiers. Baiting out raiders had them nervous and afraid. The debt they felt that they owed the Alexandra family was clearly strong for them to agree to this.
Circe was more than aware of this fact. And she felt guilty. This whole plan...she could have just tried to hire some actual mercenaries. Surely Khan Yunis was home to at least a few sellswords. But she...just had to prove herself, didn't she?
Regardless of the cost it seemed.
Worse yet was that Circe couldn't seem to think of anything to actually do or say to ease the tension. Some "leader" she's supposed to be...
“Whoa, wait a minute...is that-”
“Raiders! Circe, they're coming down the dunes. To our left!”
It was time. Circe stood up from her crate and carefully walked over to the wagon's opening. She peered out the opening and looked to her right and...yes! There they were! Two horses raced down the dunes, Nabatan Chargers if they were able to do so. The two men that rode them had swords in hand, raised to the sky. The sun glistened and gleamed off their blades, and the battle cry that they rang out could be heard clear.
“Ashim! Get the crates ready. Drei, to your feet!” Circe glanced over her shoulder. “Nazim! Do you see the others? There should be three more!”
“I see 'em! On foot! They're looking to cut us off and trap us!”
Perfect. Circe took a deep breath. She could feel her pulse begin to race, so she went to work settling it down. Just two breaths...and then she opened her eyes, grin spreading across her face. The young magus stepped to the side of the wagon and went about untying the tarp, just as Ashim began to push the crates to the wagon's edge.
“Drei, do you see the knots that secure the tarp? I've set them on the interior for a reason, and they are loose. Untie them, and we can start to bombard these raiders with our magic!” Circe had already worked through two of her three knots by the time she had finished speaking. The beige tarp, on her side at least, had begun to flap and ruffle about. Once Drei had finished his end of the work, the plan could truly be set in motion, and they could start their defensive.
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Post by Drei on Jan 17, 2017 16:14:22 GMT -6
The ride had been quiet Which was precisely how Drei preferred it. Eyes shutting slowly while he pondered the future. His hands quietly clasping and laced fingers coiling to a rooted poise so he could better clear his mind. It was this ease that allowed him to search his thoughts with clarity and comprehension of the deeds that need be done. The heat of Nabata mostly abated by the veil of a canvas they had obscuring them directly from the suns angry rays. Drei could've almost found it pleasent. There was a soft lull after all in the shifting and rocking of the wagon through the sand. The horses reigns and he harness jingling ever so slightly.
The ashen haired shaman opened a single eye when he heard the shouting about raiders. Otherwise he'd done an excellent job tuning everything out ultimately. His first thought was something along the lines of:
Oh boy. First time I start to enjoy Nabata since I've gotten here, that doesn't involve a book store, and people show up to kill me.
His second thought counteracted that fairly quickly though.
Well. I guess it's time to get paid. Or..die trying. Huh. Would've liked to indulge in that tome a bit first befo-
Oh right. Killing people, yes.
His body was quick to rise as he moved forwards and started quietly undoing the knot for the canvas so it could fully fly backwards. However at that point the slight gust it created had clung back Drei's hood. Fully enveloping him in that hot, bright, uncomfortable Nabatan day. The ashen haired shaman squinted furiously, before he let his mind instantly envelop in a veil of calm. After all, communing with the nether when fraught with emotion was a dangerous thing. Power, after all, had a cost.
The Shaman's palms extended as he lifted his hands. Instantly a large series of inky wisp like tendrils magically birthed from his palms and began to squirm about one another until they formed an orb. A shadowy globe with no hint of light and simply seemed a void to all light that connected to it. A perfect shadow. Swirling tendrils congregated around his wrists and slowly began to feed into the orb as ruinous magic built up, his robes beginning to rustle from the gathering magic.
Elder magic took time, but the power almost always warranted it. The air alive with fetid winds and fell magic writhing at his command, amber hued eyes narrowed as he began to sculpt and shape the orb with one hand extending while the other retracted and he pivoted his poise sideways. Stretching it until both halved into smaller sphere's that began to fill out in size once more as he further fed it the dark magics he commanded. As the raiders approached he'd be able to make a far more reliable strike.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 17, 2017 23:41:09 GMT -6
It was Drei's first display of magical prowess, and yet Circe could already see a level of control that Althea had lacked. Not to say Althea had been hopeless or anything, but there was almost an artistry to how Drei had manipulated and forged his magic spheres. Elder magic seemed to favour spherical shapes, didn't they?
Of course, those thoughts were on the absolute bottom of Circe's mind. The canvas had been unleashed, flowing aside in the wind. Circe couldn't make out the expressions on the riders faces, but no doubt they were filled with confusion or shock outright. What truly mattered was that they stayed their course, horses pounding and racing after the caravan. Which was just what Circe needed.
“Come on...a little closer...” Circe mumbled beneath her breath, focused intently on the distance between themselves and the raiders. They had a bit of a time limit, unfortunately. There was an archer among their footlocked numbers, and he would pose a threat to them all if they drew too close to them. Nazim had said they were trying to cut them off, so their best bet was to take out the riders completely so that they could be prepared to deal with the rest.
All Circe needed was for them to approach just a bit closer. The further down the sandy trail they went, the more narrow said trail became. The way the tall dunes were shaped had them closing in tighter just a few feet ahead, something Circe had banked on. Ordinarily the raiders didn't attack in this area, but all they had tasted was success. They had gotten greedy, arrogant, and they would be punished for it.
The bright sun made it hard for her to squint out the exact distance, but even over the loud shakes of the caravan she could hear the pounding hooves. Just a bit louder...a bit louder and...NOW!
“Ashim! First crate! Aim between the horses!” Circe hoped her voice did not carry over the pounding of horshoes and wheels across the coarse sand, lest their opponents hear her. Ashim obeyed all the same, and began to push the first crate off the edge of the wagon. As their secret weapon approached the edge, Circe concentrated, feeding the spirits of nature her magic. Heat came first, building and shimmering ever so slightly around her left and right hands. Next came the sparks, dancing off of her hands and wrists and into the arid air around them.
By the time Ashim pushed the crate over, those sparks had burst into flames.
Circe watched the crate bounce and crack along the sand. Thankfully it was sturdy enough not to break immediately, and both raiders reacted exactly as she anticipated. They steered their horses clear of the obstruction, lest their mounts trip or break their legs over the hardwood construct. No longer together side by side, and pushed up closer to the dunes that closed in on their path, they made for much easier targets.
“Drei! Fire!” Without another word Circe brought both of her hands together before her. The blaze that engulfed them flared before twin fireballs were launched forward. Circe had aimed one at her targeted raider, which he proceeded to attempt to steer his steed away from. But his path was narrow. He had but one direction to go, thanks to the crate, and Circe had known it. So her second fireball had been aimed at the horse. No matter how surprisingly loyal or well-trained this steed would be, surely it wouldn't rush...
...headfirst into a fireball, so that its rider may not taste the same fate...
And yet Circe's eyes went wide when the horse did just that. The short fur along it's snout caught ablaze, and a horrifying shriek escaped it. A high-pitched whinny that came out more like a wail. Worst still was that the horse kept running. It shook its head back and forth as if to try and put out the flames, but they only continued to spread, licking up at its mane and ears.
An innocent creature...and yet Circe was burning it alive. But if she faltered here...if she faltered here, a far worse tragedy would occur, and it would be her hands still that were drenched in blood.
“Another crate Ashim, towards the burning horse!”
“Circe, we're approaching the other bandits! They're setting up a formation now and...and they've got an archer!”
[2 Posts until 3 more bandits enter the fray]
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Post by Drei on Jan 20, 2017 19:51:07 GMT -6
Drei's hands sculpted and molded his dark magic further. The tendrils birthed from the great void of the nether squirming wildly before they further configured into one larger orb. Drei lifted his hands so that either side ascended the twisting pools of magic that had separated and soon re-joined into one larger perfectly black inky void infused globe. The ruinous magic pulsed with a faint essence of the void. Fell wind carrying an unnatural chill as the void magic, so devoid of life, began to twist and turn into the form of a single elongated spear like tendril. Drei's palm reared back and he guided it by crossing one arm over his other with palm nearly clapping his right shoulder from his left hand while his right arm lifted and extended with fingers unfurling.
The spear raced through the hot Nabatan air. It punched through with a great force before sailing, inches above the charging steed's rider before it collided with and blasted into the mans chest. The mounted man was instantly set upon as the force hit him like a wall of stone crashing into his upper torso. Healthy flesh rent and tainted as it burned an unholy energy upon him even while he wailed and roared in agony. So much so that it briefly startled his horse. The rider instinctively knew it seemed though to keep a grip on the reigns for though his sword wielding hand lifted to bump against his chest, as if to alleviate the elder magic infused wounds.
Drei was already clasping palms closed into fists before unfurling them, twin orbs of shadowy essence furling outwards into existence while he prepared his next spell. Dauntless, it seemed was this raider who would fight on and had resumed his charge fort hem. Drei's gaze briefly averted to the impending trap before turning with narrow honeyed hues back to the barbaric raider. Fingers clutching closed slightly as he quickened the infusion of magic into his twin orbs. It seemed, they would have to end these raiders sooner than not if they were to prevent themselves from being overwhelmed.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 20, 2017 23:32:51 GMT -6
Ah, Circe could tell what spell Drei was casting. To take the raw energy of the Nether and fix it into a physical construct was the act of Ruin! Despite all the great stress and pressure of the situation, and Circe's heavy focus on micromanaging every detail that she could, she still managed to take a few seconds to appreciate the sight. Though Circe knew of the spell she had never actually seen it be cast before. As terrifying and powerful as it seemed, it still hadn't been enough to take out his raider.
But at least he had hit his mark. Circe had still only managed to strike the horse in her first attempt, and Ashim's second crate had bounced on an odd angle, drifting into one of the dunes rather than either of the horsemen.
“Okay Circe...don't overthink it this time. You may not want to underestimate the foe, but you don't need to overestimate them either.” She had tried too hard to predict the movements of the raider and their steed. That said the horse was...not long for the world. Even as the rushing wind, along with the sand kicked up by the wagon's wheels, was enough to begin putting out blaze that engulfed the animal's head, the damage was already too far gone. Skin had been burned away to nothing, meat and bone visible from where the flames receded.
Yet the horse kept running, for it knew naught what else it could do.
No doubt it had suffered substantial damage to its eyes, and with the howling of the wind picking up alongside the rattle of the wagon, it couldn't depend on its hearing either. It could only follow the guidance of its riders hands on the reins, and he still had one hand up to hold his sword.
His metal sword, which gleamed bright in the light of the hot sun. It couldn't be missed, especially as he drew nearer and nearer to Circe. She couldn't look right at it without being forced to squint her eyes shut, but she didn't need to look directly at it. For it was a lightning rod, that stood out in a land with none other. No trees of any sort, no buildings with steel on them...not even armor on the man himself. It was a circuit waiting to conduct electricity to him.
Circe had opted to lead with fire because it was the most destructive, and because she was the most confident with it. Lightning, however, was a close second on both counts. The flames around her wrists dispelled as the spirits that danced around her body became replaced. A slight charge could be felt in the air as static begin to spread around her body. White blue electricity arced along her fingertips, the hair at the back of her neck standing up from its presence.
With only a slight squint Circe held her hand out towards the man's blade, three thin bolts of lightning crackling forth from her fingertips. Magical in nature and origin, it was still electricity all the same, and it was drawn to the metal blade that the rider held. Immediately he let out a cry of shock heh and agony as pain fired through his arm into his body. Having become a circuit his hand locked involuntarily onto the blade, and so Circe continued to feed electricity into it, white blue lightning burning its way through the man's entire body.
She forced herself to keep the stream steady even has smoke and steam began to rise from his clothing. No, not just his apparel, but the flesh beneath it, as he continued to burn from the heat that assailed him. Before long the man went limp, falling off of his horse and landing onto the sand hard. At last he was able to drop the sword that had killed him, but the damage that had been done was too severe.
Circe let out a small sigh as the shift in weight had likely been too much to the horse. Just like its rider it fell forward, landing hard onto the sand with one last cry of pain. A majestic creature it may have been, but its death was...an unfortunate necessity. And yet Circe had not the luxury of sparing it even a second of thought, to honor its passing in some small way. The edge of her lips quivered, but she said nothing. She...had always been fond of horses.
All the same, she turned away from the back of the wagon.
“Ashim, keep pushing crates off until Drei has his man.” Circe ordered before she turned away. There was time before they would have to deal with the other three raiders, and she needed to use that time to think.
[One more round of posts until 3 more bandits join the fray]
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Post by Drei on Jan 21, 2017 23:51:53 GMT -6
Drei's right palm extended outwards as the other rider drew near. The pulse of nether magic flaring into life further within his embrace caused it to burn and writhe with the dancing hues violet and sable that infuse to create a well of darkness in his palm. This time he focused on hardening the magic into a thicker spear, shortening but widening it while he pivoted his body with his left hand tracing the length of it before extending backwards. The gesture though seemingly meaningless was in actuality him further aiming his magic. With it taking a more palpable form he had to actually gauge it and physically try to guide and arc it. Mental manipulation only went to far when the realm of physics held influence over the construct, more so with it taking on the traits of a solid form of matter.
Honey shaded eyes locked onto the man's already injured chest. As if weakening it would allow for his spear to puncture the brigand further. His composure unwavering, and quietly calculated his precise attack. The man's body rose and fell slightly as the horse charged forwards. Drei's desire to strike the steed, while high from the tactical advantage of it, was halted by the fact that his magic was slower to charge and far harder to sustain in repeated assaults. Not without a moment to relax. Ashen bangs drifted in the faint heated nabatan wind as he tried to focus further.
The man's blade rose as he neared striking distance. Drei's fingers curled before abruptly unfurling as he swiftly swept his left am in a downwards diagonal arc inches behind it as if pushing it physically. The void spear sailed through the air with a faint buzzing hum of fell magic while the shaman visibly focused to keep his construct sailing through the air. Until it punched straight into the raider's chest. The nether spear collided with its target, blasting into the mans chest with a sickening crunch before the man's muted shout rasped into the air. Skin shriveling at the overwhelming burst as the spear erupted into a shadowy explosion as it punched a hole through the brigands chest. Skin turned white and chalky like ash, and the mans corpse lulled backwards upon the steed while Drei quietly inhaled through the nose and exhaled with the gut to further maintain a level pulse.
His gaze drifted to the imminent brigands. Quietly preparing himself mentally for another spell.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 22, 2017 13:21:23 GMT -6
“Circe, they're setting up!” Nazim stated with no small degree of worry. Circe had walked to the other end of the wagon, crouched a bit as she gazed upon the coming foe. Three more bandits, and one with a bow. Indeed they had set up their positions, with the archer kept behind the other two. One of the raiders carried with him a bronze shield and a simple sword, while the other had a curved sword. It didn't really matter WHAT blade they held: Circe couldn't afford to be cut by either. Neither of them really could.
However she also couldn't afford for anyone to be shot by the archer. As the bowman drew an arrow it became clear just how funneled in they were. While the terrain had proven to be advantageous against the riders, it was even more advantageous for the archer. It would be too easy for him to land a shot against Nazim, possibly even a fatal blow. Circe couldn't allow that, yet the man had already knocked his arrow...
Which meant she needed to disrupt them. To get the first strike.
Her immediate target was not either swordsman: otherwise electric magic would prove best once again. Instead she summoned the spirits of fire and heat to her hands once again. Yet rather than release a simple fireball she instead spread her hands wide, launching several smaller flares towards the brigands instead. Neither flare would cause all that much damage if they connected, they lacked the force and literal fire power of a proper fireball, but the purpose was not to kill or damage. These flares burned bright as they soared through the air, flickering and shooting off more flares. They forced the bowman to squint and lower his weapon, and that was Circe's queue.
“Nazim! Stop the wagon!” Circe ordered firmly and hastily. Nazim shot her a bewildered look, but she met his gaze unwavering. Nazim tugged the reins hard, the horses letting out a whinny as they came to a hard stop. The sand that the caravan had been kicking up caught up to them, thanks to this sudden stop, flowing past the wagon and horses and into the brigands with a wave of wind, further distracting them for a moment.
Circe would like to say she had planned out that bit, but it uh...was definitely good fortune. No strategy from her end.
“Drei, onto the sand with me!” Circe didn't wait for Drei to join her. She put her hands onto the edge of the wagon and pulled herself over, landing onto the sand below with a very soft thud. Her mind began to go into overdrive as she attempted to come up with a solid strategy. The archer was the prime threat, but since the wagon had stopped... “Nazim, get into the back of the wagon with Ashim! Hide behind our remaining crates if you can.”
Circe was relieved to see the Nabatan bartender scramble over the backing that divided the driver's seat from the wagon proper. Good, she could just focus on the battle to come, then. The burst of sand had begun to dissipate and the brigands had re-composed themselves. Worse still was that the archer still had an arrow at the ready.
Drei was skilled, but nether magic took time. Required even more careful concentration than anima, which came from the innate danger of communing with the nether. With the archer such a prime threat Circe did not want to leave him to Drei's magic: he could be able to get an arrow off.
“Try to keep the swordsmen at bay. I'll try to take out the archer.” What was the speed of an arrow to lightning? Though as Circe drew upon the spirits of electricity yet again she became aware of her reserves. The constant swapping between fire and lightning proved to be more draining than depending more on one rather than the other. If she had to keep switching like this she could wind up too drained to cast any meaningful spell.
Though as whitish-blue electricity crackled and arced along her fingertips, she decided there was only one mindset to counter that fact: she needed to make every shot count.
As the swordsmen let out battle cries and ran towards Circe and Drei, she brought an arm across her chest, twin bolts of lightning firing from her hands as she did so. They twisted and arced through the air, one narrowly missing the archer while he ducked to avoid the other one. Damn, so much for her earlier dogma...at least he hadn't been able to get a shot off.
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Post by Drei on Jan 22, 2017 21:27:35 GMT -6
The Ashen haired shaman directed his gaze to the series of flames that'd flown past Drei had been gathering his breath when the sand rushed past him. His hood obscured the grainules from entering and irritating his eyes, but it lightly grated his cheek with the most minute of annoyances. The mage had already hopped over the sand by the time the sacaen shaman stood up once more from his partially prone poise. A single boot rested atop the wagon's wooden side wall while he lifted his palms. Eyes briefly aglow, he concentrated as a surge of dark magic infused within twin orbs on either palm. Drei's elder magic swiftly gathering as he channeled it with post haste.
The soft thud when he landed on the sandy surface absorbed most of the sock and kept his footing deceptively stable. He was already swiftly striding to catch up with Circe. His body did not move with the haste of sprinting, but he walked in extremely long and fast steps to keep the distance between them scarce. Quietly gathering and infusing more essence of the void within his hands as the orbs took on a hue from inky black with violet twilight tints to solid sable sphere's.
Circe had sprinted ahead and was already, so it looked, engaging her chosen foe. Which left...the other two to him eh?
Well. Time to try sustaining twin chords.
Drei slowed his steps as the two swordsman began to approach. Each one drawn out through the sand as he continued to infuse ever last drop of the nether he could muster into either palm. The weight of it slowing his steps while he extended his hands across opposing sides of his chest with one hand resting near atop the other. Each orb instantly burst with a pulse of elder magic while they projected lengthy whip like tendrils from each sphere; the shamans' magic filling the hot nabatan air with a faint chill as he let the spears retract. Only for a nano-second before he lifted his palms to launch spears at either swordsman. Each one extending as if spring-loaded, punching tufts into the sand with small bursts as either swordsman leapt to the side and evade the assault.
Drei was not frustrated by it however. He ultimately only needed to buy his partner time and ideally kill one or both along the way. If only it would be so easy. Drei had a feeling, he was in for a rather unpleasant ride.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 22, 2017 22:28:49 GMT -6
Circe was caught in a bind. If she had more experience pushing her magical reserves to their utmost limit, she would be able to simply overwhelm the bowman with a barrage of fire and lightning until he eventually a misstep. Unfortunately, especially after the incident at the dig site with Althea, Circe had to pay greater attention to her limitations. Even if she dealt with this archer there was a chance that Drei would need her help, and Circe did not want to feel useless in that case. She couldn't afford to be.
So rather than simply over whelming the bowman, she used the time granted by Drei to step around the swordsmen, in a very wide berth. The archer's eyes stayed fixed on her as, once again, he readied his arrow. If she could not overwhelm him, then she would have to try tactics. How could she outsmart him? How did she make the most of the resources given?
As the two continued their “Sacaen Standoff”, Circe began to charge more electricity along her hands. She dared not switch to fire, not at the distance she was currently at. If she could close the gap without risk of being shot dead first, then she had a solid chance at victory.
Circe shot forth both of her hands, fingertips first, towards the archer, a single respectably sized bolt of lightning arcing out from each hand. One bolt was aimed high, towards the archer's head, while the other was aimed closer to his feet, and fired a second later. Circe's gambit worked, for though the archer successfully ducked beneath her first bolt, the second struck his right foot hard. With a yelp he nearly dropped his bow and arrow, teeth grit as the white-hot beam had seared through his boot.
Seizing her opportunity Circe broke into a sprint towards the archer. Once more...just one last time she dispelled the lightning spirits and called forth those of flame and heat again. Orange-yellow sparks began to ignite along her right hand, gradually building up into a respectable fireball as she drew closer to the archer.
The raider scrambled, only able to prop himself up on one knee as he drew back the string of his bow. He let out a desperate shot just as Circe hurled her fireball at him. Her flames soared through the air to collide dead on with the archer's face, the impact alone enough to knock him onto his back. He let out a scream of pain as the flames spread down his body, burning his flesh and clothing alike. However Circe couldn't hear it over the sound of her own scream, for his arrow had found it's mark in the soft space just above her left knee.
A pain worse than any she had experienced before throbbed in her thigh as she fell forward, only aggravating the pain further. Flames dispelled from her hand immediately as she put both onto her knee, forcing back tears as best she could. The arrow hadn't gone deep, thankfully the archer didn't have the time for a full draw, but it was still embedded in her soft flash and by sweet St. Elimine did it hurt!
The archer, meanwhile, continued to shriek in agony. He tossed and rolled along the sand in a vain attempt to put out the flames that continued to spread across his body, but to no avail. By the time he finally ceased to move his entire torso had caught flame, with Circe only a few feet away from him to watch.
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Post by Drei on Jan 23, 2017 18:52:33 GMT -6
The two swordsman were effective at dodging if nothing else. Drei huffed in frustration as either one nimbly leapt to the sides of his strikes again. It was...beyond irritating. The shaman's visage briefly stained with it beneath his hood, before he quietly retracted the spears back into the orbs that served like wells of power to extend from initially at each strike. His body slowly backpedaling as the raiders approached. His gaze drifting to either one.
It was evident that the swordsman were just going to tire him out that way. He couldn't keep up his stamina of striking at either one indefinitely either. Not simultaneously. But...if he focused on one...
First I'll need distance. And for them to be single file. Even for a moment. Which means not going straight back but...
Drei started to move backwards swiftly, and to the side in a counter clockwise fashion. So that naturally one would be closer. If they were as confident as he imagined then...
One was closer, and maintained his pace. Sly expression betraying his overconfidence. The second one...kept walking at the same pace. Not thinking of the importance of staying side by side. So he could line them up. Had they been smarter foes they might've imagined it as more than a distraction. Luckily for Drei, they weren't that smart. The shaman lifted his hands slowly to either side, above his shoulders. Palms skywards as the dark magic ignited around his wrists and further infused his magic, empowering it slightly as needed before he extended his hands swiftly. Tendrils abruptly extending outwards in arced patterns, whipping towards the closest swordsman instantly. His lock of shock came a moment too late as one punctured his ankle before ensnaring it and the other punched into his shoulder.
Drei retracted the man swiftly with his tendrils, both supporting his weight as opposed to prior battles where he relied on just one to hold someone aloft with much strain. The man shouted in agony and was quickly isolated from his friend as Drei brought the writhing flailing male to his side. However the man wasn't quick to give up. His blade whipping outwards and narrowly slicing from Drei's upper left torso down near his upper abdominal section. The Shaman shouted in pain as he retracted his left hand, the tendril in the mans ankle retracting before Drei lunged forwards in anger and pain. His hood still up around his face to hide that murderous expression from everyone save the raider. The man's partner was now running to help, but it would come too late.
Drei's hand lunged forwards as he jammed the nether sphere against the man's nasal section, the muffled shout of agony muted instantly as there was a faint rush in the hanging moment before a large spear of hardened nether energy punched through the man's face and out the back of his skull with a wet crunching thump. The body convulsing and jolting twice before viscera and brain-matter burst out the back while it extracted. Drei whipped his wrist with the tendril still grasping the corpse and flung it towards the other while he began to quietly pant. A stain of crimson spray had lined Drei's jawline and cheek, but all he could do was stare furiously towards the other swordsman with his palms lifting once more. A rush of shadowy energy infusing into them as he prepared again. Quietly staring down the approaching swordsman, forgetting entirely about the others in the heat of combat.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 23, 2017 21:17:54 GMT -6
Circe was no soldier or mercenary. In fact, up until that day, no one had ever shot an arrow directly at her before. So she was woefully unprepared for the dilemma that was REMOVING an arrow. All that she knew for sure was that she did have to remove it. So long as it was embedded in her leg, Circe felt that she wouldn't even be able to stand.
Hands against the hot sand, Circe pushed herself onto her rear, legs stretched out before her. She could make out a bit of the arrowhead from the entry point, so she could determine that the entire thing had not been buried into her flesh. What did she have to do? She'd have to...no! Circe's gaze snapped from her wound as she looked to see Drei.
The shaman had just...obliterated one of the swordsman, but he had taken a wound. A long slash across his chest. That only left one more bandit. Before Circe could afford to worry about the arrow in her leg she HAD to make sure the mission was a success. Besides, she could likely use the help of Nazim or Ashim in removing the damned projectile.
Circe channeled electricity along her arm and to the tips of her index finger. She squinted one eye shut, the other opened and trained on the swordsman. Ordinarily she'd focus on electrocuting his weapon, as she had done to the earlier rider, but Circe didn't have that option. The man's back was to her and she could not make out his sword properly.
So instead she had to take careful aim and focus. His back was a safe option, an easy target, but she wasn't sure how much that would help Drei. So instead Circe took a bit of a gambit and lowered her hand, finger aimed at the back of the swordsman's right knee. Aimed and focused, Circe let loose a single bolt of lightning towards the back of the swordsman's leg.
While failed to strike directly behind the man's knee, her bolt of hot lightning still arced along the side of his knee all the same. The bandit let out a scream of surprise and pain as he stumbled forward, hot pain shooting through his leg only to be replaced with a deep numbness. Crippled, he ought to be an easier finish for Drei. Just to be certain Circe prepared a second shot, calling on the spirits of lightning to channel electricity along her hand once again.
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Post by Drei on Jan 23, 2017 23:17:42 GMT -6
Drei's twin sphere's of nether magic shifted. As he configured the spells together, the man had come close to swinging at him until Circe caught him with a blast of lightning. The man had dropped down with a scream. Drei was already stepping over to him when the man's body betrayed him and he fell atop himself stomach down. The Shaman's dark magic was quickly infusing and building up while he loomed over the man. The swordsman extended his hands to press himself upwards while Drei extended his hands outwards. As the raider tried to support his weight on his good leg to push off the ground, two ruin tendrils punctured into both of the man's palms simultaneously. Each one driving holes through them as the crunch of bone being shattered was quickly drown out in the man's screams of pain. He instantly fell back down to the ground before Drei lifted his hand once more.
This time he defused the second sphere in his left palm, right one pointed towards the man as essence from the nether spiraled around him in totality. Tendrils slithering around his wrist like shadowy eels that were trying to constrict his fingers and be guided along his pale curled digits which contained the sphere of solidified elder magic. His gaze directed town to the bandits, his hood pressing to the shaman's left cheek to shield him from buffeting sand. Before the man could so much as utter another word, his gaze ascending to meet Drei's, a long heavy tendril comprised of nether energy flew out and punctured directly through his forehead.
It punched a strong hole through like his comrade prior, rupturing and bursting through his skull in totality. The shaman did not retract the spell after inflicting the killing blow, merely disolving it as it vanished from his palm as if it'd never been there to begin with. His gaze turned to Circe as he instantly calmed down, his passive calm quiet visage conveying such an inner peace despite him not quite feeling such within. His tone was entirely emotionally dead however.
"Your raiders are dead. That was all of them, correct?"
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