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Post by Drei on Jan 14, 2017 17:18:51 GMT -6
The colossal ship lurched and rocked with a slow steady rhythm to it. Cruising through the ocean's currents as tides occasionally broke upon the sides of the large wooden hull. Dauntless in the face of the rising waves, and cruising effortlessly through steady Nabatan seas. Drei had tried to get passage on a smaller ship, but the Nabatan caravel was already ready to board and the voyage hadn't been hard to book. It would take a few extra days though, because of the size of the monstrous vessel. Caravel's were able to house hundreds of passengers with ease but were often slower despite the slew of masts. Drei'd gotten used to them though given his families...size being a circus and all. After all, you couldn't exactly be a tiny company requiring passage at that point. So the large ship teeming with people from all walks of life was...normal. Even if he often loathed the prospect of interactions in any semblance.
The ashen haired boy was currently on the top deck, hands quietly grasping at the wooden beams baring the side so that none could actually fall off without some semblance of effort on their part. The spray of salty sea air constantly among them, choking the atmosphere while the steady rumbling crash of the sea in every direction began to resemble distant thunder on quiet sacaen nights. The winds were fair, and it seemed like a pleasant experience. The chill of the sea air was such a stark contrast to the scorching hot Nebatan days and frigid nabatan nights seeming a more apt comparison.
The young shaman had been quietly tracing circles with his fingers upon the worn etched wooden railing when there was a sudden shout from atop one of the mast look-outs.
"Captain! Pirates, coming fast from the stern side!"
Instantly the ship burst into a frenzy. Shrieks or fear ridden passengers starting to buzz about frantically. It...had instantly gotten much louder. Drei was curious obviously, and a small vein of fear bled into his mind at the notion of it. But curiosity obliterated that fear when he started scaling the steps to the "stern" he thought the man had called it. When...saying "Their coming from behin-" okay no that was far worse. Stern side was far better. Good call there look-out, good call.
Surely enough, there they were. Black sails boldly announcing their presence as the much smaller ship began to swiftly gain on the heavier slower passenger ship. The Captain of the ship instantly began to ring a brass bell near the helm while shouting at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of many and earning Drei's scorn as his ears began to ring even once the bell had stopped.
"ALL RIGHT ENOUGH O' THAT. If ye' can fight, stay aboard and earn yer passage! If not, BELLOW DECKS WITH ALL O' YE."
A flock began to surge for the lower decks. Most men unsheathing blades in anticipation or drawing bows. Drei did no such thing. He simply stood there gazing at the ship, blinking curiously. It was catching but..it still looked like it was a few minutes away. What were the defenders going to do...stand there holding ax's and lances and blades for ten or more minutes? How strange...people were strange. Very, very strange.
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Post by Althea on Jan 14, 2017 19:49:57 GMT -6
Yes, Althea thought, she had had QUITE enough of Nabata for the time being. Attacked by tomb robbers, attacked by animated statues, nearly dying of heatstroke, everything... else that happened in those damnable ruins... she loved the possibilities of Nabata, truly she did, but the actual location was so incredibly unpleasant to work with that she could only take it for a certain timeframe.
Slightly ironically it seemed that her escape from the fiery hell of Nabata had served only to deliver her to the briny deeps, if the day's events had any say in it. Pirates? She had heard OF them of course, but never clashed with them before... and it seemed that would change today, going by the shouting up on deck. She had left her book behind and emerged from her cabin, up the stairs as others passed her down. Men and women who could not... would not fight. They were her, in a way. The her that no longer existed. The her that would have rather fled than fought, if she had her way, or tried to scare off her foe rather than defeating them. It was her weakness made manifest, her past given form. And it was exceptionally interesting that she was ready to talk so much crap when she might very well be as dead or deader than them within an hour. A nice little piece of irony to take to her grave. Which might be in the next few minutes.
Emerging from belowdecks and looking around curiously, the slender shaman immediately attracted some attention of the wrong kind, surprising a few sailors, one of whom in particular furrowed his brow as he stared at the seemingly unarmed young woman before smiling in as friendly and helpful of a fashion as he could manage. "'Scuse me, missy, but you head back on down, there's, uh, a bit of a problem-" "The pirates, yes?" The serenity in her words took him off guard for a moment, and he nodded, not quite sure how to respond. Excellent. "Please, allow me to support you as best I can."
Taking a very small and VERY immature amount of pleasure in the confusion writ across the young man's face, Althea carefully stepped past him to lean against the railing to see the - oh my, that WAS a pirate ship. They weren't even subtle about it. She was, er, admittedly not an expert on pirates, but it did seem as though one would want to hide their intentions to better get in close... alas.
"...So much for reading," the shaman stated with a smidgen of disappointment after she confirmed they were most definitely going to be fighting today. It wasn't as terrifying as it had been before her first few experiences with it, more obnoxious. And rude, really. Also rude: she... didn't recognize anyone on the ship. She'd mostly just spent her time in her cabin, reading and especially writing as she strove to resume her research.
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Post by Drei on Jan 15, 2017 1:00:04 GMT -6
The pirates were gaining now. More so than prior. Drei could make out small bodies dotting the sides of the ship. He could see more details of the ship. He couldn't help but notice just how much faster it was. Was it the curvature in the sails near the lower halves? Was it the lighter hull? Probably both. What he did know was that the time before confrontation was dwindling. Leaving the tension almost palpable. The distant groaning of wooden planks along the opposing ship's hull now audible, as well as the thunderous crashing as it broke through ocean waves or crested some only to level out. He felt his pulse quicken for a faint moment, before Drei felt the rush as he opened conduits within and connected his mind to that sprawling mass of a void.
The ashen haired shaman stood above the steps quietly, violet robes sticking out like a sore thumb among the mahogany shaded ship. His robes rustling as the winds and movements from the ship disturbed his figure. His sea-legs were steady enough though.from prior comfort with naval passage. Drei extended his palms quietly, and soon his robes disturbed not from wind of a natural cause but the essence of the void he freely manipulated around himself. Darkened wispy tendrils began to wink into existence and coil around opposing spread out digits while they writhed and squirmed as if with life of their own. The shaman's fingers lit with violet crackles and he concentrated inwards, letting the magic surge as he condensed it into a sprawling swirling sphere of palpable thick inky blade essence of the void. Elder magic now visible, Drei began to focus inwards further. Quieting his mind and whiting out all distractions while drawing upon the power of the great dark entity his mind could connect to.
Sailor's and combatants seemed to ignore him. Mostly. A few cautious looks cast his way and some distance parted, no doubt a distrust simply of his control over magic or some sort. However while Drei began to slowly shorten the distance between out-stretched palms so that the dark energy began to condense itself. Tendrils around his fingers solidified. Becoming physical and even lacing between and around his fingers so that the orb connected to his palms via several tendrils that wove around his pale digits. The shaman's head turning to stare down the ship more intently as he readied himself. The shouting and gutteral snarls or cheers of the pirates audible, but not quite understandable. The captain of the passanger ship shouted as men began to rush to the sides or move behind crates and barrels or the masts for cover.
"They'll be upon us soon lads! ARM YERSELVES AND PREPARE FOR A FIGHT BOYS!"
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Post by Althea on Jan 15, 2017 13:02:54 GMT -6
Hehe. Arms. Wrapped in a reverie of retardation, Althea found amusement in absurdity at the thought of 'arming' herself, though the thought of being, er DISarmed was sobering enough to put a partial pause to her silliness. It was arguably an improvement from just watching the pirate ship as it approached, though; the additional stress certainly wasn't going to help her fight any better, and her hoping the fight would start sooner wouldn't make the pirates show up any fast.
Though, ah, it did occur to her that being on the frontlines was... maybe not the wisest plan for a young lady wearing exactly zero armor, with the constitution of an asthmatic child, and a strong need for focus when casting. Focus that could most definitely be interrupted by, say, an axe to the face. Whiiich would be bad. Well, she had definitely confirmed that there were pirates and they would probably be fighting, so rather than do anything especially stupid she moved away from the edge of the ship behind the wall of flesh and steel that was the defensive line, noting that some of them looked... less worried at her doing so. Yes, that was understandable. Moving to the frontlines, even temporarily, had been unwise - but she had wanted to see it for herself.
"Does this happen often?" "Huh?" It was the same man she had talked to moments ago, the strapping greatsword-wielding young redheaded lad who seemed to have a heart of gold and a brain of mush. "Pirates," she clarified sweetly, and it finally clicked for him. "Not often, ma'am, but we've tangled with their kind before." She smiled, a little uncertainly, her nervousness not entirely hidden. She had SOME combat experience by now, and it had gone... somewhat well actually, but it wasn't exactly an eternity of warfare. Perhaps just as importantly, this would be by far the largest scale fight she had experienced in her life. So it was a new experience to be had. Hopefully the sort that she survived.
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Post by Drei on Jan 15, 2017 13:34:34 GMT -6
The spell permeated like a visible shifting mass of squirming tendrils penetrating outwards from a single large sphere which hovered above the shaman's palm. Just as he finished, he heard the faint shouts from the other boat while the pirates vessel closed gap. The groan of either boat as the sails lurched from a sudden gust of wind that began to pick up. Drei backed up somewhat, quietly slinking from the direct side at which the ships would run parallel and turned to quickly run down the stairs to the main-deck. Sprinting past the girl of pale complexion, and the red-haired man she spoke to, Drei skidded while the shouting of pirates and defenders began to thunder from either vessel. Amber eyes briefly darted over to the woman while he briefly noted something startling. She was pale. By his standards even. That was rare. The shaman's fingers coiled upwards as he maintained and sculpted the mass of dark magic within his palm and quietly began to condense it further. From the other ship he heard a gruff tone boom out even while pirates jeered and shouted wildly.
"Ay Now you whoresons! LOOT YER HEARTS OUT!"
Men were throwing large wooden heavy planks from one side of the ships railings to the other. Some had started shouting from above the mast and were swinging down on lengthy ropes from the higher points in the masts. Almost instantly, the chaos began. For as the boarding docks landed, muscled barbaric looking oceanic brigands were already storming over them as they smashed against the defenders like the very tides they rode upon breaking against rocken face. Which...made it hard initially for Drei to actually sling his spell. He didn't have the caliber of control needed to accurately guide and manipulate it through the chaos of combat. He could time a strike sure, but he'd need them alone. Which was almost imposi-
Or he could aim up. Two men had swung by and landed only to be intercepted by defenders that had been hanging from the nets leading to the upper masts. But a third pirate started swinging, and Drei's gaze instantly locked to him. The man crossed the thresh hold and in that bring hanging moment when he reached the height of his ascension, in that suspended point right before he began to descend to land, Drei whipped out his arm with his mind snapping every ounce of concentration forwards. The dark orb erupted into tens of smaller hardened tendrils that punched together with one unified force and impact, pointed tips barely impaling the man and intercepting him before punching him even higher into the air briefly. The surprised cry of pain and snarl afterwards was amplified by the thud when he landed on his back. His chest stained with crimson streaks and the skin visibly damaged.
By the time he saw Drei, the shaman was already preparing his neck spell. With an upraised ax the pirate shouted and began sprinting towards him. Drei's first thoughts already crisp as he let the dark violet light of elder magic stain his visage while reflecting from the orb growing in his palm.
Well..Auntie did always suggest I make some friends before I leave Nabata. Guess I've made my first.
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Post by Althea on Jan 15, 2017 14:09:33 GMT -6
The familiar pulse of the Nether somewhat distracted Althea for a moment; she couldn't see Drei from her spot on the deck, but she could tell someone was channeling it, in a rather great degree in fact. Given no one was screaming yet she estimated that it was another defender rather than the start of the attack, though, so the alabaster shaman pushed the thought aside for later investigation rather than a life and death matter that needed to be solved through the judicious application of overwhelming force. Probably for the best since she didn't really have 'overwhelming force' on lockdown.
Thankfully, the problem solved itself when some pale white-haired guy ran past as thought the hounds of hell were following after. She was again slightly amused, this time that despite similar complexions they had apparently gone the exact opposite direction in regards to their wardrobes, but the start of a grand battle hardly seemed like the best time to comment on that, and he was busy anyways. At least, it seemed, she had found her culprit.
As the whole ship shuddered in the wake of the pirate invasion, everything went from good to bad, um, rather quickly it turned out. Althea wasn't exactly sure what she had been expecting in retrospect, but the salty sea dogs came from every direction, laying planks, spikes attached to ropes to create lines between the ships, draglines from the masts... surging like a tide of diseased flesh and hatred, a wave that crested and swept aside all in its path. While the defenders did not go down that easily, it was clear that they too had expected something lesser, or at least had not been prepared for what had actually come at them. The initial battle lines frayed and tore quickly, but rather than turn into an immediate route they reformed further back, battered but not broken.
But they were certainly, absolutely, outnumbered. Not in terms of absolute body mass perhaps, but the smaller pirate ship had a far greater fighting crew, that was sure. Hmmm... lifting her arms up to form the familiar orb of shadow, ignoring the surprised gasp of someone to the right as she forged a tiny strand of the Nether into a weapon, Althea considered the problem directly. Perhaps she was simply overestimating the pirates, but her initial impression was that they were fighting a losing battle based on both numbers and experience.
Well, there wasn't much she could do about the experience - they were just screwed in that regard. But the numbers... yes, they could only be brought to bear with an adequate channel to direct the current, could they not? Her gaze turned away from the developing melee as the orb of shadow in her hand grew, focused more on the row of men crossing the planks. If she had more range, more area... but no. There was no value in thinking about what she would like to do, or be. Her brow furrowed in concentration, the darkness in her hands sunk into the deck below her harmlessly, manifesting again a moment later above on of the bridges, directly overhead one pirate who barely had time to look up before a deluge of darkness drowned him, silencing his screams almost instantly as the caustic fluid filled his mouth and lungs and eyes and nose and drooled down his spasming body. As it ate through him, it also began to eat through the wood; slower, enough so that some of the pirates in the back of the line saw what was coming and had time to retreat back to their ship, but several in the middle were stuck between the dark magic raining down on the board and those behind them - and when it gave way, four men plunged yelling after it.
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Post by Drei on Jan 15, 2017 14:52:57 GMT -6
Drei felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. A familiar presence washing over him in almost a comforting way. The essence of the void being called forth. It was external though. Not from him. The Shaman would've snapped his head to investigate who he suspected the culprit would be, but there was this...problem. That giant muscled arm crashing down an ax where his face was supposed to be. Drei instantly hopped back, a squirming tiny orb of nether hovering from his palm as if bound to the space a few inches away. The snarling man's ax punctured the wooden board before splintering it a bit as he ripped it out and raised his hand with another howl of fury. The thick musky scent of pungent alcohol, likely rum because pirate duh, filled the salty sea air. A rush of adrenaline flooded him as he narrowly avoided a bit of bisection. A rather morbid grin crossed the Shaman's face as he spoke in a hushed tone that he knew the man would barely hear.
"Hey now. That plank was not your drinking disorder."
He quickly turned on his heels and started sprinting along the back length of the lurching passenger ship as the man snarled and lumbered after the shaman. The boy extending a hand and vaulting over a barrel before tipping it as the pirate stumbled into it almost drunkenly from the suddenness of it. Drei's chiding tone with almost a child-like innocent staining the warning simply to infuriate him further.
"Watch it! I hear boats are fraught with tripping hazards!"
Lunging up the stairs two steps at a time, Drei swiftly turned and began to swiftly channel the nether to him. The air abuzz with dark magic as the sphere grew in power. An inky black series of wisps coiling around his fingers as the pirate began to stumble over the barrel fully and run for the steps. The other defenders were too preoccupied with holding their line to protect the entrance to the lower decks to bother with the pirate Drei had enraged. The grinning Shaman felt a strangeness about him.
He'd never enjoyed himself like this before. It was a high he wasn't used to. The heavy footfalls of the pirate rushing up soaking wet water laden steps was almost like the beating of his heart. When the man lifted his Ax to try and swing over the railings, Drei extended his palm almost elegantly with the hovering orb sailing outwards abruptly. Instead of projecting spikes, it erupted against the man's torso and face with a muted explosion of vorpal inky black orb burst outwards with black and even white stains of energy smothering him in the choking abyssal magic. He stumbled backward with a shout of agony before he landed on the flat of his back. Struggling and clawing wildly at his face and chest in howling pain.
Drei hopped down from the steps, lifting a hand and channeling further magic while the nether answered his summons. A single tendril of magic solidifying as he held out his hand, and with a muted thud it impaled the man within his chest. Puncturing through it entirely and barely rupturing wooden boarding beneath as the mans body convulsed before shivering and going still. Drei would've dwelt on it further, but he heard a sudden burst of breaking wood and the shouts of fear. The din of combat was a cacophony but he could pick out key noises. He turned in time to see one of the planks rupturing and descending while elder magic claimed a victim. Drei's honey hued gaze found the pale shaman and he quickly slid along wet floorboards before speaking to her quickly. His aversion to socialization overridden by a need to..well..survive.
"That was ingenious. Do you think you can do that to the others? I have an idea!"
Though that idea only required her to perform that task, and without waiting Drei instantly ran to the opposing side of the ship without waiting for a response. His gaze lifting to the tethers that bound the masts of the ships and already, his mind was beginning to figure out a way to turn the tide. heh. Tide.
No! Puns came later. Survival first.
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Post by Althea on Jan 16, 2017 16:54:24 GMT -6
She was a bit too focused on the spell to really pay as much attention as she would have liked to the ongoing battle, but even in her tunnel vision Althea could tell that it was not going exceptionally well. The defensive line was still rapidly being pushed back, the sounds of combat drawing closer and closer to her; her actions to stem the tide had only stopped one rivulet, not the ocean.
But at the same time, she was feeling oddly good despite the minor tiredness in the wake of the spell. The shaman still wasn't sure exactly what she was doing in understanding and evolving the Flux spell that had been the previous totality of her expertise, but even though her current casting was still heavily rooted in it, there was definitely significantly more power being channeled without exhausting her as much. Of course, there was the, er, minor concern that not knowing how she had improved it might be a bad thing, but she'd save those worries for another time.
In the meantime, Althea took a moment to survey the battlefield to the best of her ability, realizing almost immediately that her previous estimation had been an understatement if anything. The defense had not broken yet, but it was getting closer by the minute; these pirates fought with a level of fury she had never seen before. Not that she had a lot of experience with combat, admittedly, to ground that statement. But even she could easily tell that these men were experienced fighters not interested in taking prisoners among the crew - which boded exceptionally poorly for any innocents in their path. She'd never experienced being raped to death, either, but for some reason the slender shaman didn't really have that as a life goal.
The... the other shaman, she didn't know his name, seemed to be fighting much more, er, intimately than she, something Althea didn't see much wisdom in. If you could fight safely or unsafely, why bother with the suicidal one? Still, it seemed to work out for him, which was... good, she guessed? It wasn't like she wanted him to get hurt or anything. Just seemed like a good way to get axed a question. At any rate, he seemed interested enough in her to come dancing over like a stylish clown, so in the interest of not being too rude Althea greeted him with a light smile, not exactly the overt expression of an extrovert but really pretty good by her standards!
...Then he danced off after like two sentences without giving her a chance to respond.
The smile cracked a little.
Rather than allow herself to be annoyed though, Althea turned her mind to the question at hand - not what he had done, or how, but what he had asked. COULD she repeat that? Yes. Could she do it to all the others? ...Unlikely. Each cast took a fair amount of time and concentration. Further, she estimated from another glance at the battle, she had one or two more cast cycles at best before the fight came to her directly, and by that point she would be entirely useless at destroying those planks unless she fell back even further - and that was assuming the defensive forces hadn't been entirely routed by then. Her last cast had been... acceptable, as these things went, but she COULD NOT rely on repeating it - she had pushed the Flux spell as far as she knew how. Althea didn't realize she had been mixing Mire and Flux at all, but she knew that approach had gone as far as she could take it.
So. Severe time limit. Need for area-effect magic - but she simply did not have the ability to call down any larger masses of magic, it was too far out of her capabilities, and wasteful to boot. Even IF she could somehow cover all the boards simultaneously in a single cast, roughly 90% of the surface area of the cast would be wasted on the ocean. So. Alternatives. Multicasts - not happening. Wide area dispersal - unviable. Could she do something with the stream she had managed to conjure when fighting alongside Circe...? It had been an... amateur job at best at the time, but the concept of a sustained wave, or river. Perhaps. Yes, that could work, in theory, though casting something of that caliber again would temporarily take her out of the fight to recuperate. The thoughts continued to flow as the shaman brought her mind to bear on the problem entirely, ripping it apart and giving each piece of the puzzle attention as needed to solve it. Feeding it to the mad dogs within her mind.
What if she refined the spell? How? Opening a localized portal to the Nether was clearly possible, but binding it had been difficult. She needed to keep this one stabilized for longer. The overall power of the former one had been acceptable, but she needed this one better focused; she wouldn't have the luxury of simply letting it spew at the same board for a minute apiece. Intensifying power would mean lowering diameter, though - same power, smaller area, better efficiency. So a smaller rift, or one that amplified the power better. Althea... wasn't sure how to do that. Maybe with practice, in theory it should be doable, but as-is she could not. So she needed a larger portal, but then straining the flow into a smaller seal... yes, she could do that.
Her mental engineering had taken little time in the real world, her often sluggish mind finally roaring to life at full power, but it had still taken time nonetheless. Wasted part of the two-at-best cast cycles she had remaining, and this experiment would take more than one cycle. No time to waste. Biting her lip out of a moment of weakness, of hesitation, Althea threw herself to the winds of fate and began anyways, trusting in her abilities and those around her to do their task and protect her while she cast.
For once, though, she did not bring her hands together to form the spell, instead extending her right hand forward as she tried to focus her mind along that single axes, envisioning the seal, the portal, the attack. Beginning the cast was easy enough, but her hand struggled, almost spasmed for a moment as it began to close, reality distorting slightly around it as concentric magic circles formed around it, pinkish-purple designs parallel to her palm, as she strove to commune directly with the Nether... almost as if grasping it by hand, though that was simply a euphemism, a metaphor, used to focus her mind. But the crackling black lightning that began to play around her hand, emanating from the back of what was supposed to be a one sided portal, suggested something else. It... actually hurt. She could feel the corrosive force. But she needed a direct, strong connection to the Nether, especially for this.
About fifteen feet away, near the edge of the ship, a nearly identical magic circle appeared a few meters above the edge of the railing, loosely pointed at the coming tide of flesh and gathering some immediate consternation, though the, er, lack of actual magic ruined that pretty quickly. It was a temporary respite at best. Althea didn't even notice; she was too busy pouring her own magic into the seal, trying to corral and control more of the Nether than she had ever managed before as her limbs went numb and her hand burned.
She opened her eyes - she didn't even remember closing them - and simultaneously the circle slowly rotating above the boards erupted in a thick torrent of purple-black energy, not quite the inky shadow she had managed to summon the last time but tinged by her own magic this time - not quite a ray or beam, but not quite a liquid torrent either, something in between that sliced downwards towards the sea. Now for the real test. Slowly rotating her hand within the closer seal, as thought turning a doorknob, ignoring the immediate sensation of pain, the rotating one overhead slowly began to move as well, picking up over the next few seconds, carving a line of death through the line of boards. It wasn't nearly intense enough to actually punch through the boards instantly nor focused enough to simply cut a thin line through them, all that would have truly been necessary if she'd had the control for it, but still enough to blast and warp the boards in its passing, incinerating parts of them and weakening their bonds.
With the amount of weight on them, the results were almost immediate; each plank the beam passed crumbled to the ocean below in its wake, accompanied by the screams of the damned. But it turned out she had... greatly underestimated the power needed to keep the channel intact, Althea realized with mounting fear as it consumed more and more of her stocks of magic - the curse of a constant torrent. The pain only intensified as well, feeling like tongues of fire licking at her hand, twisting her face in anguish as her previously stolid hand began to spasm. But it was WORKING, dammit, the third board almost instantly evaporating as the torrent pulsed strong for a moment, though the fourth was only battered but not broken as the power ebbed away for a moment.
The seal broke on the fifth, a pulse of energy that knocked her back on her ass and momentarily shellshocked as both seals nearly instantly evaporated in the wake of the sudden loss of control. Everything was blurry and distorted and vague for a moment as Althea tried o stand up and found that her body didn't seem to be interested in following any of her commands. She could feel something wet on her face, and with herculean effort managed to raise her left hand - the right was in no condition to do anything right now - brought it to her lips and... let it rest there for a moment, because moving it again was too hard.
It came away red, and it took a few moments to understand what she was witnessing. Blood. Hers? She didn't remember being attacked. Had she? No... were her lips bleeding for some reason? That didn't even make sense. A nosebleed. Maybe. Yes. But why? Her mind was still active, trying as ever to break things down into simple chunks, but it seemed to be working in circles, unable to make sense of even simplicity itself. She didn't remember having a nosebleed problem. Was it allergies? Or... what could it be?
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Post by Drei on Jan 16, 2017 21:31:54 GMT -6
Drei quietly took a moment to calculate his angle. Gaze frantically scanning over every minute aspect as battle began to over-take the ship further. From the bow of the boat he could see two heavy rope lines that were running the length of either ship and extended out of sight, anchored elsewhere upon the other ship. The spikes harpooned into their ship weren't as much of a concern as the draglines. Those connected the masts and could cripple their ship completely if the two disengaged. He didn't have to be a nautical expert to recognize that, and he knew that it was something he could handle with the lines running taut.
Ashen bangs rustled as the sea winds swept through the deck of the ship. Salty scent now stained with metallic blood and the faint odor of gore and viscera. Drei's palms rose parallel from one another before lifting to face directly with a few inches of space between them. His mind emptying as he began to dredge up power from the void, sculpting and altering the essence that he commanded from the Nether. The darkened fell magic visibly squirmed into existence once more. A faint light forming around the shaman while he solidified the magic into a palpable black sphere. As if a cannon ball hovered at his will. He lifted it upwards, and willed it into a tendril like mass before it punched skywards at deceptive speeds. The hardened tip piercing through the air with un-resisted momentum before puncturing the first dragline. The tether broke rather easily from the sudden sharpened force crashing against how taut it'd run. There was a groan, and a slight lurch as the bow end mast no longer bound to the other was allowed to level out.
First down. Great. Now how is that woman doing with th-
Drei turned to look at the planks. Almost as if fate had guided his eyes to that one moment he saw it. The writhing power of the void belching forth with uncontested dominance before sweeping aside the hapless fools who'd been cursed with the severe misfortune to be upon the planks at that time. He'd never seen dark magic wielded in quite such a way. Ingenious really. Utilizing an angle to such an advantageous point was beyond brilliant in his perspective. The shaman would've admired the lingering hazards for the pirates that her magic had created, or simply been left there to marvel at the sheer ingenuity of it were it not for the heavy fact upon his shoulders. They were still going to lose this if they didn't rid themselves of the pirates any time soon.
Drei turned to find the other drag-line, and quietly lifted his palms to condense and sculpt further magic, before he saw it. In that ever so brief hanging moment, he saw the pirate who'd barely managed to hop aboard the ship from one plan while his brethren fell to their demise. He saw the man's gaze meet Drei's, and then the pirates eyes lower to the violet and inky swirling orb in his hands. Ashen hair though clinging to his visage did little to hide the look of concern that flashed on Drei's face a moment too late as the throwing ax flew through the air. It tore past the combatants and upwards until it flew right towards Drei in a curved throw. The boy had barely turned in time before the Ax sank itself downwards into his left shoulder.
His scream of pain was muffled by the fact that he nearly bit his tongue off when he grit his teeth, dropping to one knee and stumbling while he almost instantly lost feeling in his left arm. His magic briefly vanished, and the young shaman feared for the connection of his arm, until his right hand clasped to his shoulder and felt it still firmly attached. The Ax had sunk into the space between bone and muscle. He gripped at and removed the hatchet though searing pain burnt him like a white hot flame. His gaze drifting wildly as the man came lumbering for the stares to him. Drei struggled to rise, and slowly began to channel magic with his right hand. A bit more initially gathering from his prior preparation having not fully fizzled out. He felt the thick crimson liquid trailing down his flesh beneath those purple robes, and the sensation of heat it brought.
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Post by Althea on Jan 16, 2017 22:02:41 GMT -6
The screaming snap of... something drew Althea's attention back to the land of the living to some degree or another, or maybe it was the lurch of the ship? She couldn't really tell. Whatever the overall cause, though, she vaguely registered that one of the cables attaching the two ships together had snapped. She hadn't seen Drei do it unfortunately, but the fallen shaman had a feeling it had been his doing - his talk of 'having a plan' and the timing of it snapping in a similar timeframe to her own attack most definitely suggested a causal connection.
As her mind returned to activity, it finally clicked where the blood had come from - nosebleed - she'd overexerted herself far too much, she theorized, drained enough magic and exhausted herself physically as well. Her magic would return but she would be slower to move for a time regardless. If she had just overcharged Flux to that level it may have killed her, but she had managed to tap into... something beyond Flux, she was fairly certain, though she knew not the name. Ugh. Why couldn't the deck be softer? She didn't mind hard decks on principle, large or small, polished clean or rife with the... odd scent they sometimes bore, but if she was going to ride a deck she wanted it to at least be comfortable.
While her actions had removed perhaps a third of the planks the pirates were using to cross over and the remainder were taking the trip in much smaller numbers to avoid similar catastrophe, there had already been most certainly enough invaders that things continued to go poorly for the defenders. The red headed young man was still visible in the melee off to the right, but her own defense had become somewhat, er, precarious, she realized slightly belatedly as the armored man before her sank backwards, an axe protruding from his throat.
Oh. Well then.
Slightly bothered by how little she actually felt for him, automatically dehumanizing the deceased as a survival mechanism to minimize stress, Althea scrambled to her feet awkwardly, born upright not by strength of body or even strength of mind so much as baser mix of terror and will. Her limbs hung like led and her mind was still all fogged up, but she was at least alert to stand unaided. Probably for the best, given that the axe wielder who had struck down her last defender was stepping forward to rip the bloodied weapon out of its last victim, leering at her without too much concern for such things as subtlety. She had the feeling that he had a great many things in mind for her body, few of them especially pleasant by her standards.
"Come along quiet-like, kitten, and I won't hurt ya... much," he leered, and it took very little time to bring her arms up in the beginnings of a Flux spell. His face warped and twisted into something far uglier, and rather than respond he brought the axe up again, faster than she had anticipated - could she finish the cast? - Althea moved backwards, abandoning her spell as he brought the weapon down like a great club that would crush her bones to powder. She had decent offense, apparently, Althea was actually privately quite happy with herself for having that idea with the channel, but the grand total of physical protection she had going was... a dress, and last time she checked those didn't work really well against people who wanted to axe you a question.
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Post by Drei on Jan 16, 2017 23:44:40 GMT -6
Focus. Don't yield. Don't buckle. Just, focus.
Drei's left hand twitched a bit. He didn't even try to move his left arm. The warmth trailing down his shoulder blade and chest was unsettling. It was as if he had an itch he couldn't quite scratch. It was the worst sensation, having an itch he couldn't scratch, and no one he trusted well enough to scratch it for him. He wasn't the type to simply just ask anyone to scratch an itch either. It was unseemly. The wound didn't actually hurt as badly as Drei would've thought. However he knew that was merely a bodily defense. The body was trying to protect itself and often more significant wounds weren't as noticeable initially.
Could be worse. I could be stuck helpless on a strangers deck.
That was worse than just settling with an inch he couldn't scratch
He let it dangle limply at his side while his right palm extended further and he called upon the full power he could dredge up of the nether. His body slowly ebbing of strength while he sculpted and focused the magic, before it writhed and instantly formed a long tendril. The hardened foul magic lashed out with impaling tip puncturing into the pirate that was already coming for Drei.
The brutish pirate's chest was rent while the black magical lash sliced his pectoral muscles. Before Drei could bring it in for a second attack though he threw a small hatchet like ax again. The lighter weight of the ax simply afforded him the advantageous footing of speed in the battle. The metal finely sharpened, it sliced at the shaman's side. It ripped through heavy robe layers and tore between his rib-cage while the Shaman leaned forwards with his right hand thrusting. The orb that served like a base for his magic pulsed, and the nether spike impaled the man directly through the center of his chest. Drei's gaze narrowing as he scowled. The pirate roared in rage and started walking forwards. Visibly enduring the burning agony of the tendril puncturing a thin clean path through his torso.
He kept slowly fighting it, as Drei's look of anger slowly turned into one of shock. He further channeled his magic, and as the man lifted his hand in preparation to strike with his bare hand at Drei the shaman visible shivered before shouting in a mixture of anger, pain, and terror while moving forwards with his palm. He pushed the orb directly to the Pirates chest, and it instantly imploded into a series of ruinous tendrils that punctured tens of small holes into the pirates pectorals like a tenderizer hammer pummeling a slab of chicken breast. The man's arm meatily crashed into the pale skinned Shaman even as his body succumbed and the pirate dropped downwards dead while the sacaen nether mage was sent sprawling backwards to the wooden flooring roughly. He felt his side throb with a growing pain as his vision blurred and his eyes needed to struggle to focus back.
He quietly stood up, and turned to find his target. He still had one more dragline, and if he could remain hidden now that he'd been sent downwards...perhaps he could hit it. His right hand briefly cradled his side before he began to slowly inhale and exhale sharply. Trying to soothe himself before he held out his palm. If they could severe the pirates means of boarding..they could buy time to help the defenders fight off the current pirates.
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Post by Althea on Jan 18, 2017 17:38:15 GMT -6
It took about a grand total of two more swings for the shaman to realize that this 'dodge' thing had been a spectacularly idiotic idea even by her standards - she was not especially fast or agile, and the beast of a man hunting her was, swinging the weighty axe as though it were a feather, with casual and practiced ease that beggared comprehension. The first missed her by a hair's breadth, another vertical slash that would have quite literally bisected her if she hadn't stumbled backwards in time, but his recovery of it was so fast, faster than she had actually thought possible, rotating it one eighty and bringing it back up quickly enough that her arms were still in the process of vacating the area, drawing a gasp of blood on her left forearm that elicited a quiet shriek of pain and fear from the injured shaman. It wasn't a life threatening injury, but she... wasn't used to being hurt at all, and seeing your own blood was never exactly an ideal proposition. Her right hand was still somewhat charged from the major cast a minute before, but fueled by desperation Althea tried to focus through it again, ignoring the twinge of pain and then the fire burning through it as she tried mimicking Bryn's faster but weaker style for a moment; rather than the usual devastating and caustic orbs of Flux she used, this time it was a much smaller and somewhat more solid sphere, though one that came out faster at least, that she hurled at her target in a desperate attempt to hold him off. It hit his chest without much aplomb, splitting apart into a burst of shadow energy that... stopped him in his tracks...? The anger on his face had turned into surprise for a moment as Althea and the pirate looked at each other in mutual confusion, before it seemed as though every muscle in his body simply went limp and he fell forwards like a log, a gigantic reddish broadsword sticking out of his back, attached to the arm (still attached to the shoulder, thankfully) of that nice young red-headed man from earlier. Oh. She had kinda hoped the Flux had actually done something useful, but this was definitely superior to the alternative of being dead. Nursing her wounded pride, Althea managed a tired smile at the young man as he grinned equally exhaustedly at her, far less restrained in his momentary joy. She wasn't sure she could blame him. She had never thought that combat could be so... exhilarating until she had begun to experience it; exhausting, overwhelming, hateful, and yet in highlighting the divide between light and death so brightly, by showing how ugly death could be, it also added a sort of inherent value to life in its wake. "...Thank you," she managed after a brief moment, trying to nurse both hands simultaneously and succeeding at neither very well. His grin widened at the gratitude. "So that's what you meant by support, huh? I figured you were a mage of some sort, but wasn't expecting that kinda firepower. Y'alright?" ...A talkative sort. He almost seemed to be thriving on the battlefield rather than cowed by it as he ripped the broadsword out of the fallen pirate's back with ease, slinging it over his shoulder. Oh! Right. He had asked a question. "Yes, I am... coping," Althea managed lamely, before shaking her head as she tried to focus more on the subject at hand rather than her own feelings. He seemed a little hesitant to respond, but continued after a moment. "Can you cast that spell again to kill some more of these jackasses?"A pause. Thought. "Not immediately," she stated more certainly, finding herself back somewhat into the flow of things as she pushed all distraction from her mind. The defenders were still being crushed, but they had not fallen... yet. She didn't see anything resembling leadership though, only pockets of men and women fighting for their lives against the coming tide. "...We need to rally the defenders," she continued, and he nodded, his expression grim. "Any ideas?" "We need to link up with the remainder of the crew," she fired back instantly, her mind finally beginning to dissect the situation along avenues of efficiency. "The foe fights fiercely but not with coordination. If we can recreate a united front and use it to push back the horde, they may break or at least leave us the opportunity to cut off their avenue of retreat."The swordsman blinked as he took that in, thinking for a moment, then nodded. "I'm only really good for cutting down whatever's in front of me. If you have a plan, I'm in."Oh. Yes. Wonderful. Because SHE was the perfect general, right? Ms. 'has fought like two times in her life' right here folks. Repressing the urge to sigh, or at least argue the point with the guy, Althea just nodded instead. "Name's Lucio." "...Althea." "Right then." He turned, swinging his sword, and drove it nearly halfway through the pirate who had been charging him from behind before ripping it out in a spray of blood. Althea was suddenly keenly reminded of her total lack of armor. "Where to first, boss lady?"Hm. The defenders had been broken into clusters, so it made sense to try to pull them together one by one. "There," she said, pointing to the nearest, ACUTELY aware that it was not exactly the pinnacle of tactical genius, but she was a firm believer in beginning with the basics. Now where had that other dark magic user gotten off to, anyways? Lucio
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Post by Drei on Jan 20, 2017 14:22:18 GMT -6
There was a faint ache in the back of his mind. Not one he could palpably perceive but one he could feel. In the way that one felt their skin in it's entirety An acknowledgment beyond anything. The Shaman's flesh growing more pale, he became distinctly aware of the shivering that was starting to traverse his spine despite the fact that the climate was still fairly warm even for an oceanic atmosphere, and himself adorned in the heavy layered robes like he was. Drei's hands quietly clasped while a crimson stain smeared along the flextion creases on his palm and gritted texture of his skin. He lifted and out-stretched his hands a moment later as he isolated and forced himself to concentrate.
Darkest magic began to conjure before him, squirming into and around his palms before infusing into the air itself and joining into one writhing mass of fell energy. It solidified and hardened as he tried to steady his shaking palms. Hands briefly stiffening and his breathing beginning to fill his lungs with a burn. A burn that reflected in his throat as well. As if he was extracting the essence of fire from every inhalation. Drei's fingers sculpted and guided the magic before he stretched out his hand and threw his palm forwards while writhing dark tendrils punched outwards and punctured the last dragline. The boat lurching to the side slightly once more before extending to the side. The brief distance it created also caused two more planks to shake up and jostle downwards, though only a single pirate had happened to go down with either.
At this point the shaman started stumbling down the soaked wooden steps before quietly dropping to one knee. Almost as if in a drunken stupor. His palm latching onto the side railing as he turned to slowly and shakily lift himself off the wooden plankwork. His hair now messily matted to his face while he slowly forced himself up to his knees. Some of the defenders had formed a small shell like ring around the entrance to the lower decks, and others were pocketed into a line that was being wildly battered away at. Drei however wasn't so delirious as to recognize it as purely safe however. The Shaman rose with wavering knees and locked them before he reached for his fathers tome. Clasping at it in comfort and slowly gripping the hardened leather with familiar pale digits. The crimson on his fingers briefly staining the cover before oceanic spray cleansed it.
His palm lifted upwards, and a purple light pulsed within before it turned to a sable hue and swirled murkily into a solid orb. His body was on the brink of giving out. That much he could feel, but he couldn't relent. He couldn't actually stop. His robes billowed and he tapped into the vast expanse of the nether while he channeled his magic once more. People fought for the safety of everyone on the boat. He couldn't turn into a let down just yet.
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Post by Althea on Jan 20, 2017 15:43:00 GMT -6
She was still casting when Lucio's blade tore through the neck and spine of another pirate, decapitating the man instantly, before darkness rained from above on a lance wielding pirate near him. Eating through flesh like paper, the cast mostly centered on her left hand but supported enough by the right to stabilize a solid Flux attack. It wasn't enough to kill him, but the pain and momentary blindness was more than enough for the defender facing him to bring his own axe down, splitting the defenseless pirate from shoulder to belly.
The remaining two pirates were distracted, unprepared, and they went down almost as fast before Althea could even think of trying to cast another spell. She was, ah, secretly grateful. You'd think that with all the practice she had with Flux it would be effortless by now, but NOPE she still had to stand still and focus two-handed to pop out a good one, and that was hard with her right hand still looking somewhat like she'd jammed it into the Nether or something. Crazy, right? At any rate, there were a good four people in that particular group of defenders; the axe wielder, a woman carrying a lance and favoring her right side a bit, a swordsman who bumped fist with Lucio - probably friends - and an exhausted looking young blonde priestess that Althea had seen earlier on the trip, though she had looked much more energetic then. As Lucio and not!Lucio sword guy engaged in what she could only assume was some sort of complex mating ritual and axebro set to work bashing in the heads of fallen pirates, the shaman approached the priestess and the woman standing at her side with a weary smile of her own. It didn't even occur to her to be wary in the wake of revealing her Nether magic, at this point they would all sink or swim together.
"Are you alright?" The girl looked a little surprised at first, distracted, but smiled and nodded a moment later before speaking up in an endearingly sweet and soft voice. "Thank you! There were too many of them, we've never had to fight off an attack like this, and I'm just an initiate... I can't heal everyone." Oh for fucks sake. Biting back the uncharacteristically harsh reaction before it rose to her lips, Althea struggled against the momentary frustration as she realized she WASN'T going to be handing over the entire organization of the fight to the priestess, or anyone here, none of them wanted it. Out loud, she simply responded with "I'm happy to be of service, miss...?" "Christa, ma'am. Um... are - are we all going to die?"
That was a little... heavy for a casual question, wasn't it? She didn't even TALK to people if she could help it, much less spend time with them - and yet here she was with five people who didn't want to think for themselves or have any part of actually figuring out how to survive. On some level Althea couldn't blame them, she had been there herself as well, but she couldn't give up here. Not after what she had been through. Not given what she still had to do. Christa finally noticed her injuries and began slowly healing her right arm, as Althea's gaze swept the battlefield, trying to find... some path to victory, a magic spell or silver arrow or gilded blade that sang of truth and possibility. The bulk of the defenders had fallen back to their last line of defense, the passages to the lower decks where the defenseless civilians hid unarmed. The left flank of the battlefield hadn't quite fallen yet, but it was on the verge. Meanwhile anything from the center that hadn't fallen back to the last line had been utterly obliterated, and the right wing of the defenders, where she stood now, had been reduced to a few remaining pockets of resistance amidst a tide of death.
Hm. Was that the dark magic user she had seen earlier? She couldn't make him out perfectly clearly, but the white-haired young man she had seen before seemed to be hiding off around the... she didn't know what all these damn ship terms were, but the back part of the boat that went up. Wait. Was that blood? She couldn't see clearly from there, but the thought was... chilling. A small part of Althea noted that if he wasn't so f**k**g suicidal about his fighting style he would probably be fine, that logical but heartless bit of her that never quite shut up, but she mostly managed to ignore it for the time being as her mind raced.
"...Lucio. Christa." "Huh?" "W-what?" Both of them were roused from their distraction, Lucio having a flex-off with the other guy while Christa looked up in surprise from her concentration on healing, as the usually mild mannered shaman spoke with stronger tones. "We need to get to the injured caster," she said, pointing towards Drei... past a fair few pirates and defenders in the way. "He's been severing the draglines, as I handled the boarding planks. Perhaps between us we can cut off the hydra's head at the source, but he's no good to us dead." Perhaps she had worded that a little too long windedly, but Althea hoped she had managed to at least express the necessity of saving Drei as quickly as possible. She didn't know how bad his injuries were, but he seemed to be able to use some kind of solidified magic that might complement her... that had been Mire, hadn't it?
Lucio was the first to react as the others looked dubious, shouldering his blade with a grin. "You heard the lady folks. Let's bring the fight to these guys." Slightly ironically, that had more of an effect than Athea's words had, but she couldn't feel jealous exactly. He was just more charismatic than her, better capable of communicating with others. Brought to mind the stereotype of brains and brawn a little, though she privately suspected he was a lot more clever than he lot on - his ability to make snap judgments far exceeded her own, and despite his seemingly sloppy swordplay, his every strike had been filled with purpose.
So. A merry little band of fools, off to meet the wizard... or their own demise. One way to find out. "Let's get moving." Flexing her mostly repaired right hand experimentally, Althea began to focus again on the infinite energies of the Nether, trying to tear off enough to manipulate safely and shape them into another spell, walking forwards slowly as the group burst into action. They were only six against an army, it seemed, but perhaps the seeds of hope blossoming among the killing fields. If they could rally the disparate defenders, turn them into a weapon, and bring them to bear against the main pirate attack from behind, perhaps they could stand a chance of breaking it utterly.
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Post by Drei on Jan 20, 2017 16:37:10 GMT -6
Drei had taken a point between the back corner pinned against the railings essentially with only the semi-spiral upwards stairs behind him. His shoulders instinctively craved to hunch, and he found himself struggling to maintain his poise without slouching. The defenders were having an increasingly miserable time of it, but as he gained clarity of the instance with brief bursts in adrenaline to mitigate his bodies wavering vitals he noticed a man toting a shield and sword struggling to hold off two particularly vicious pirates. Each one wildly battering away and forcing him further back while his shield sang like an iron composed maiden and his blade rang like a bell hammered upon. Each step back a frantic one. Instantly the ashen haired shaman extended his arm high into the air.
He tapped into perhaps the most he'd ever been willing to delve within the nether. A miniature pulse of nether essence detonated around him and a black writhing series of shadows infused around his orb while he tightly pursed his lips. With every breath burning, he inhaled furiously and began to vent as much effort as he could just to keep his arm aloft. The orb hovered, before splitting and rupturing into two long tendrils that coiled around his arm like twin snakes before he lowered his palm and lashed out. As if flinging an object, he whipped his wrist and felt his elbow crack slightly from the sudden force behind it. His funnybone instantly triggering and sending splitting pines and needles through his arm sensationally, while his side angrily throbbed in protest and he felt a tiny trail begin to grow thicker along the length of his body downwards from the blood.
The two ruinous spears flew through the air, through still connected to Drei's palm and ripped past either side of the defenders head before punching into either of the somewhat wounded pirates abdominal muscles. The force of the magic caused the tendrils to punch clean through them, but the sides of the tendrils erupted like a blast as they slid through the pirates and began to lift them though the two muscle bound brutes squirmed. Instantly Drei's right knee buckled and he dropped to one leg. The strain of physically interacting with other creatures or objects had always been difficult for him. Perhaps in his half delirious state he'd over-estimated himself. The Shaman's lips let out a faint hiss as he struggled to keep the writhing pirates aloft about ten feet in the air.
"No..nghh...I..won't...stop!"
He couldn't help but remember his family's fall. The screams. The burning. The butchery. He'd been helpless then. He would not be helpless here.
His eyes briefly lit with a violet hue. His palm burning with dark like branded magics emitting into the sphere as he pushed himself beyond his traditional limits. Forcing himself with every ounce of will power, to stand as he put more of his spell into the motions. The tendrils writhing wildly and beginning to more firmly hold the pirates before cracking downwards like whips to smash them down. He lifted his palm to bring the tendrils downwards, so that the muted impacts would bring them to an end...
Instantly the spell burst into shadowy wisps. Drei coughing up violently as a crimson trail trickled down his chin. His spell however had meant the end of the pirates either way it seemed, because as his vision dulled and he fought wildly to remain conscious, he saw the swordsman charge forwards and instantly bring his blade into one pirate. The other, he could only assume was ended. He could hope was ended. Drei's body shook as he breathed heavily. His head splitting with internal agony and his gaze faltering as he dropped to one knee and folded his arm over it for support. Blood now much more thickly stained upon the side of his robe and along his left shoulder. The Shaman couldn't bring himself to lift his left arm much anymore and he felt a soft ebb. As if the idea of laying down were the greatest comfort. Just to feel his weightlessness..
His eye lids were beginning to feel as if they were made of iron.
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