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 Feb 1, 2017 12:39:50 GMT -6
There we go. Althea seemed to be far more...stable was a bit of a stretch, she hadn't been on actual meltdown level, had she? Either way she had calmed down, almost completely, and she seemed happy with Circe's last words. Mission accomplished, for sure, but it hadn't exactly been an actual objective of hers. Circe genuinely did mean what she said, and she felt similarly. Overwhelmed. Circe was competitive, and she knew that, but this wasn't a matter of overcoming competition. It was fighting against unjust or downright evil men and women, struggling to either simply survive or to protect others.
Honestly? Circe would rather the pressure of simply trying to survive. It came with far less pressure. Only HER life was on the line, and she could simply do whatever she deemed necessary in order to protect it. She...knew now more than ever that she was capable of that line of logic. When other people were added into the mix, allies and even friends, that's where things got complicated. Not just because she now had to protect them as well, but because Circe couldn't help but concern herself at least a bit with how they perceived her.
Would she ever want Althea to see the side of her she'd shown those brigands in the desert? Althea knew Circe was cunning, with her deception against the light mage, but against those raiders...that wasn't cunning.
“...I agree! Action is well and good for magical training and practice, but too much of one thing is um, good for nothing. A nice, quiet-” In hindsight, it was as if they were begging for their wishes to wind up jinxed. Just moments after the words left Circe's mouth, a sharp cry rang out. Everyone that seemed to be traveling with the caravans heard it, the horses slowly drawn to a halt as the scream was almost instantly muffled.
Circe perked up as well, eyes narrowing a bit. Everyone seemed to look around, at first in confusion. The scream had been one of theirs, right? It had to be...then who was it? Were they okay? Circe got to her feet and gazed around to try and get a better view of the area. She didn't quite know what she was looking for. Just...anything out of the ordinary?
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Post by Althea on Apr 20, 2017 21:00:11 GMT -6
Just... a little peace and quiet. Was that so much to ask for? Rather than be surprised or horrified by the shout, Althea spent a few moments pondering how she really should have seen that one coming. Doubtless there would be an army of bandits and tomb raiders, likely riding Baels and Mauthe Doogs, wielding legendary weapons and accompanied by the angry ghosts of all eight Scouring Heroes, all of whom were riding especially large and angry dragons who were breathing other, smaller dragons, which in turn were breathing spiders. And they were all on fire.
Might as well check it out anyways. Allowing herself a minor groan, Althea bade a momentary farewell to her mage buddy and noted her intentions to investigate what was going on. Not like they were in THAT much of a rush that she couldn't see what was up.
She wasn't really sure whether to be disappointed or pleasantly surprised that a grand total of nothing seemed to have actually occurred by the time she got back there; Althea found a few vaguely confused guards milling around, two more standing at the side of the road calling out some name she didn't recognize. From passing chatter she picked up the situation fairly quickly - one of the guards had gone missing. That was it. No giant attack on the caravan, no bandits, no pack of devil dogs charging them, no massive wave of skittering legs and bulbous bodies. It didn't seem particularly impressive of a disaster, quite frankly. Certainly not the kind of thing that should stop an... entire caravan... in its tracks...
A muffled... sound emanated to the right, and as her gaze swiveled to it Althea saw the back of a guard falling into the brush, oddly stiffly - they hadn't walked into it - "fall back!" It came out as almost a squeak at first, a voice that hardly reached her own ears and little further as she tried to comprehend the situation. It wasn't until she saw the ground nearby tremble that it finally clicked, and without further ado Althea's voice rose far louder and harsher than it had a moment ago. "FALL BACK! IT'S AN AMBUSH!"
Even as she spoke, steel erupted from the earth a few mere meters away, a curved blade vivisecting a confused guardsman up the center as the earth seemed to explode around him. Horrified, Althea took a step back as he collapsed limply, realizing belatedly that all around her similar scenes were playing out - the widely spread and completely unprepared guards taken unawares by the subterranean assault as skeletal figures emerged across both sides of the road.
And further forward in the caravan, screams rang loud and clear. The nightmare had only begun.
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Post by Drei on Apr 22, 2017 18:46:18 GMT -6
He was absolutely positive that the ruins were...somewhere near by. Now. To say he was currently lost wasn't accurate. Because he knew where he was going and a method of how to statistically obtain that goal within the same amount of time directly correlating to the amount of time i'd take to back-track through and across Caelin eight times. Luckily, Caelin was by far a speck of a territory compared to say..Pherae..or Araphen..or say..the literally endless fields of Sacae. He'd have started growing hungry were it not for the small pouches of jerky he'd gone out of his way to obtain in the last town after seeing the butchers shop. It was simply a fact that such food was convenient. It kept well, tasted fine enough and could be quite filling. Though it did wear away at the jaw, and he was afraid he'd end up developing one hell of a lower jaw like some muscled bound oaf at this rate. In reality there was no difference in his jaw. It just felt like it because of the throbbing in his lower jawline.
A sound in the distance caught his attention. The screams and shouts of others in clear distress. Now, this was probably the third time Drei had gone out of his way to help others in danger. And this would probably be the third time Drei nearly died because he went out of his way to help others in danger. None the less, the shaman leapt off the horse he'd been riding ever since the start of his journey and tried to extend a hand to force it to stay. It was a smart steed but...prone to wandering when bored. The ashen haired Shaman extended his left hand and quietly collected himself. Asserting discipline and his will as fingers curled and shadowy tendrils coiled and composed within his grasp. The palms flat end infused with twisting darkness that writhed before erupting from his tips and enveloping his palm in a solid orb. This time he'd managed it swifter than prior.
Drei started sprinting for the sound of distress before, a few moments later, he saw an unsettlingly familiar sight. Standing skeletons. Bonewalkers. How many time would he face them? He disliked fighting them over all other foes. The nether was great for melting flesh from bone through deadening it or simply corroding it away or marring it. Inflicting pain and forcing an enemy to writhe. Dark...though those thoughts were. Bonewalkers? They had far less to hit, and no pain to cause. However, he would try to help what looked like a convoy of sorts? Palm lifting upwards, the shaman swept it as a long protruding tendril latched outwards to ensnare the spine of a single bonewalker. He wasn't strong enough yet to simply rag-doll a group of them wildly but soon he would. Soon. The shaman grunted before extending his palm and sending the bonewalker flying through the air as the tendril smashed it into the ground. Though it didn't do as much damage as he'd wanted, it had not only gotten it's attention but created distance.
Hopefully these defenders would realize he was on there side. The last caravan he'd tried to defend had its resident Mila lobbing fire balls at him in fear initially.
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Post by Althea on Apr 27, 2017 0:47:46 GMT -6
At least her horrified shriek- "shouted" orders had engendered some base effect, though not nearly as much as she had hoped. It was made clear very quickly that Althea had been far too late to even have a chance to save them all, of the eight guards who had been in the immediate vicinity when the attack began, four were dead by the time she had finished speaking, and two more went down beyond hope of repair before most of the remnant even understood what was going on. Even for the typically seemingly emotionless mage, it was impossible to avoid flinching when she saw the risen Bonewalker thoughtlessly ram its curved scimitar into the back of a still living guardmsman's neck, ceasing his pitiful mewling with a sickly snap and gurgle as he ceased to function.
Only two of the guards rendezvoused with her in the wake of the ambush, and one of them was limping from a cut on his thigh. Whether by luck or instinct, he had barely managed to avoid the wicked blade and dance out of the way, his youth or his fortune sparing his life for at least a short while longer. The other, an older looking man, bearded and past his prime, had simply been apart from the others, close enough to the convoy and fully on the road that the undead creatures had not been able to strike at him so decisively. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Striving to bite back her anger, Althea was already channeling the power of the Nether before she remembered to think about what she actually planned to do with it - and more importantly the status of the overall battle. Flight was clearly impossible. The dark creatures surrounded them, three apiece closing in from each side of the road - and a seventh, emerging from the bushes. The one that had slain the guard poking around in the bushes, likely.
That left them with no choice at all, and as she glanced between the two remaining guards, they could each see it in each other's eyes. It was almost funny, in a way. She would never have interacted with either of them if not for this situation. She did not know their names, their experience, their fighting styles. All she knew was that the older man had a polearm of some sort - it looked like a halberd, she thought, but wasn't sure - and the younger man had a longsword of no particular repute. They had no time to talk. They had no time to plan. They could only fight.
The younger one started when the darkness grew between her rising hands, looking somewhat nonplussed, even disgusted at the use of dark magic, but to his credit he swallowed his reaction to focus on the task at hand. The older man didn't seem to care at all, swinging his weapon with a great scything blow that knocked one of the creatures away from the trio, though without inflicting significant damage. The orb of shadow accumulated, warped, dripping from her hands into the earth below and rising upward in a concussive blast of dark energy that rattled another skeleton's bones without doing significant damage. Fan f**k**g tastic.
On the bright side, she could taste the cloying scent of the Nether from the vicinity, and while she hadn't been looking at the time, the crashing refuse of exploding skeleton did draw her attention to some degree.
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Post by Drei on Apr 27, 2017 10:46:38 GMT -6
Right. Monsters of the Nether. Fighting them with the magics of the void was definitely the best way to go about it. 10/10, would fight again. That lovely self critique aside, he needed to find an effective solution. Palms clasped together as the clattering of bones thumping together marked the bonewalker rising upwards and standing upon skeletal heels once more. The abyssal tendrils that extended from Drei's hand coiled and writhed as if a great number of umbra vines were bursting forth from around his pale fingers. They coiled into one stronger one and the magic solidified as the shaman started running forwards. Perhaps he could add momentum to it with the actual physical exertion. Perhaps not. However the sounds of combat and a shrill voice that sounded far more familiar than he could initially justify were enough to inspire him into action.
His arm cocked back, the shoulder twisting a bit as he pivoted while moving. In the back of his mind there was definitely a small part that was laughing at him for being a mage that had just made distance and now closed the gap. But that small part of his brain could shove it because he was relying on physical generations of momentum and kinetic force. His magics were not traditional. He lunged forward after about ten swift strides, sliding a bit and lashing his arm forwards like a serpent striking dead ahead. The dark teeming tendrils swiftly burst from his right hand and like a thick spike plunged towards the bonewalker. The cracking of bones was a wonderful start as it pinned the undead fiend between a tree and the crushing force of his spell. Bones cracking and breaking as he obliterated a portion of the rib-cage and left arm which had been caught in-front of the blast at the time.
Had this been a human enemy he was absolutely positive they'd be dead. Unfortunately he was unlucky, and had to fight the undead legion of the damned, from the burning hells every other day it seemed. If it could utter noise he was certain it'd be laughing. In-fact..it's head was bobbling. Was it laughing?! No. No. It's head was no doubt shaking from the kinetic force of his strike an-THE DAMN THING WAS LAUGHING!. The Shaman's arm cocked back again as he punched a second swift strike towards it. Aiming for the skull this time with intent to obliterate it. His Honey hued gaze hazarding a glance towards the defenders only to see a familiar patch of snowy white hair sticking out about as sore as he did in literally any average population center. Which was to say, quite a bit.
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Post by Althea on Apr 27, 2017 18:46:16 GMT -6
The problem with fighting Bonewalkers, which she hadn't really thought about until now for some reason, was that there really wasn't a lot of them to... hit. They were quite literally just bones. You couldn't bleed them out, you couldn't target vital organs, she wasn't even sure if bashing the skull in would really work - though it was a hypothesis to test as soon as possible. When she got the opportunity at least. For now she had other tactics to experiment with as well. Seven foes. Three fighters. And the younger man, the swordsman, was already too focused on a clash of blades with one of the creatures, so it was really more of a two on six fight... even less in their favor. Ah well. Complaining would change little; for now she could do naught but make the best of what she had.
The creatures did seem to be vulnerable to blunt force, though not on the level of a human body, so without much else at her disposal Althea resigned herself to simply using more of it. The Flux spell had accomplished... very little unfortunately, leaving her with no choice but to step it up to her heavier hitting abilities, despite their increased cost. Though the noise of combat nearby did draw her attention away for a moment, in time to see a spear of dark magic impale one of the damnable creatures to a tree. Was it possible that - yes, how convenient, it WAS Drei. To be fair, she didn't think many dark mages knew how to twist the energies of the Nether into physical form, herself included, so it hadn't been an entirely unreasonable guess. "Drei!" Her feminine tones rang through and perhaps above the din of battle, though not by much, the shaman's words comprised of hope mixed with desperation. Even with his surprise attack they were still not in a good position, and she didn't know what the full situation was.
But again. It was all irrelevant for now. She had only one fight to focus on - the one before her - and then the others would be allowed to exist. And so the darkness between her palms pulsed and shuddered, an orb turning into an ocean... inspired by the typical Flux spell, but something else. Much larger input. Less focused. She knelt down, the orb dissolving and coalescing into the ground and forming a pool of liquid shadow under her - somewhat as it had when fighting that light magic user alongside Circe - both hands pressed to the ground that was no longer ground - absolute focus - envision the event - a blast of blackness erupted from the ground a dozen feet away, a pillar of shadow that engulfed one of the bonewalkers. In the moment before it disappeared entirely inside the blast she saw it moving jerkily for a moment, then everything was gone. When it dissipated a moment later, though, the creature was still there, visibly lightly harmed but unlike the first one she had hit, seemingly quite... disoriented? Confused? Althea was not exactly an expert on the creatures but this one seemed significantly less mobile and active than it had a moment ago.
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Post by Drei on Apr 27, 2017 19:09:03 GMT -6
The fragments of decayed rotting skull that littered the ground as the punctured, battered corpse fell merely served as a foot note once the shaman extracted his hands slowly and recalled the dark tendrils. The magic halted around his palms and he turned as he faintly heard above the sound of ringing blades a familiar voice speaking his name. The ashen haired sacaen nodded in her direction before turning to better assess the situation. Their group was out numbered nearly two to one. Minus him. However the numbers were small enough that a slight enough shift could put it easily in their favor. The numbers were not hard to adjust. One tied up by a swordsman. The other seemingly capable in his own right to handle quite a few if needed, probably simply to stall opposed to defeating entirely without fatality himself. From first hand experience he knew Althea could bring quite impressive power to the field of battle though he pondered the potency of her magics as raw aetheric power opposed to the physically sensitive fiends. Despite this it meant that they could at-least occupy three. Were he to remove two, that left only one in their dis-advantage.
A dark pulse of energy later at Althea's hands, and Drei had a sneaking suspicion that they could handle this. If they were bold, and swift. The Shaman's palms extended upwards as his arms lifted. The familiar conduits flowing as the void responded to his will and heeded his command. This time, twin currents of foul essence flowed along the length of his arms. It was by a strange revelation, not lost to him, that the last time he'd done this was against bone walkers with other comrades. The composition strangely similar. A magic user, and two brawlers of varying skill. Perhaps out of some sense of purpose, Drei finished the thought with parted lips while fingers lit with darkened tendrils extending around pale digits.
"Only this time..I've gotten far better at this."
From either hand a series of smaller tendrils conversed into singular large ones. Similar to before. However his gaze darted between the two closest bone-walkers as he affirmed his targets. The magic hardening a moment before impact as they lashed out like monstrous vines snaking around unsuspecting bystanders. The shaman's body felt the strain a moment later as he lifted his hands. The tendrils ascending with the flailing squirming undead as the foul extensions tightened a vice like coil around either walker's spines.
They were hard to harm because they were skeletons, but it also made them far lighter than a human enemy and easier to grip. To this end, the strain of lifting one pirate as per their attack on the ship had the strain feeling far lesser in his current situation. The Shaman maintained his poise, and kept the magic elevating the creatures a good almost fifteen feet in the air. Out of the way from harming others but not high enough to force Drei to extend his twin tendrils. The Shaman's gaze darted about however to maintain alertness. He was practically defenseless in this scenario of things. Honestly..he hadn't really thought about that part. Perhaps he should've? Despite this, he'd chosen this outcome and would commit. He could only put his trust in the others and hope he didn't get impaled before they'd at-least ensured the two he restrained would not tip the scales in the undead's favor.
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Post by Althea on Apr 27, 2017 19:33:13 GMT -6
Hm. Viewing the seemingly almost distracted Bonewalker in the wake of her attack, Althea began to wonder if the creatures were held together by dark magic - then perhaps that too was what caused its dissipation? She couldn't tell if it was a weakness or not though. In all honesty they seemed quite resilient to dark magic, but to be hit with enough of it seemed to cause some sort of flaw in the magic binding them together. At least that was her running theory, for now, which didn't say a great deal about its veracity but was at least better than 'hey let's throw magic at them until they fall over.' Wait... dammit that WAS the same thing.
Hm. Seven foes, cut down to six, then four in the wake of Drei's actions. Two of them somewhat damaged, though not severely... probably. That did even the odds somewhat, but only to two-four rather than two-six. Still not in their favor at all, and - a gasping sound to the right drew the shaman's attention, recognizing the situation a moment late as the creature rammed its curved blade through the swordsman's chest, the crimson hued tip extending out of his back for a moment before being ripped out as the man fell like a puppet with his strings cut. It was probably just a... coincidence that it had near perfectly impaled the man through the heart. Just a lucky fluke. Wonderful. Turning the rest of her previous spell's fuel into another strike on that killing creature, another pillar of darkness exploded upwards through and around it, and this time when it dissipated there were nothing but seemingly unharmed bones lying where it had been. Though Althea wasn't entirely certain that she trusted the accursed creature to STAY down, for now she did not have the time to think too heavily on it. The others were approaching. Three remaining, two held back by the polearm wielder but the remainder, the one she had hit earlier, nearing her.
Slightly out of breath from two consecutive Mire casts, Althea hesitated for only a moment before settling for a direct Flux attack, somewhat inspired by Bryn's quick but weak projectiles, though as ever hers was cast with both hands and ended up a larger, slower blob of magic that slammed into the damaged creature. This time she got to see it lose cohesion and fall to pieces directly, little pops of magic as clashing magics met and broke each other, her spell dissipating in the process but its mission accomplished.
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Post by Drei on Apr 27, 2017 19:48:22 GMT -6
Drei could but note the passing of the unknown swodsman. He had a job to focus on and could not allow himself to get distracted. Heartless though it was, the young shaman toned out the visceral sounds of the brutal killing and cleansed his mind of the moment, erasing it entirely through sheer focus. This might've been harder had he known the young man much. As luck would have it, he did not. His gaze drifted back towards the squirming skeletons. The tendrils were rocking somewhat from their motions. He'd need a way to stabilize it further if he wanted to fully prevent them from moving. Perhaps he could...
Only one way to find out.
The Shaman's palms curled. The presence of the void greatly magnifying while the solid essence extended slowly. A steady motion crawling as the tightened tendrils coiling along the skeletons began to shift. The Shaman's fingers curled in concentration and he even narrowed his gaze in focus. Hands vanishing entirely as the powerful energies of the void engulfed and encircled them from the output. Tapping into the well of power further, but focusing almost brutally on control. The tips of the long shadowy extensions coiling now along the lengths of the spines. Traversing from the lower base and ascending inch by inch like great serpents that were claiming their meal. The struggling lessening the rocking motions of the suspended segments of ruin spear while they began to secure steadily the grip upon the undead warriors.
He did not stop it there though. Curling the tendrils upwards and inwards, he began to slowly envelop them. So that the tendril was inter-lapping and folding around them. Coiling so arms began bound through powerful tight constriction and pressed together near the elbow joints. This greatly impeded the force they could exert to resist him, by blocking the motions of the sockets. He might not've known much about human physiology but he was generally aware of his body enough to hypothesize such and, for the moment, be elated to see he'd guessed correctly. The drain was accumulating more upon him as he felt his shoulders start to feel the ever so slight creeping sensation of weight. To this end, he tried to focus further. Maintain his refined control at the slow constriction.
If he could keep them removed from the conflict, he could adequately help instead of letting one run rampant while he flailed about with another.
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Post by Althea on Apr 30, 2017 1:56:52 GMT -6
Four left now; two held aloft by Drei - had he improved his control of Ruin? He was performing feats that were nearing advanced magic control at the very least if not already pushing into that arena - no, focus, regardless of what she would have to ask him later, he was keeping two of the creatures out of the fight for the time being, leaving the polearm wielding man to deal with the remaining two. Surprisingly well, Althea had to admit, offering him credit in her own way. It was clear that he was fairly experienced with the weapon and used its length and reach to his advantage, clearly unable to land killing blows on either Bonewalker but more or less successfully holding them off for the time being. Hm. She wasn't... exactly a tactician, but being forced into the role multiple times by now, on the ship most notably, so she had learned the hard way that it was easier to use her mind on the task rather than go with the flow.
So. What was the ideal course of action here? Taking potshots at what foes Drei held immobile, taking advantage of a near guaranteed hit, or attempt to conserve their forces by aiding the guard in his fight against mobile foes, trading certainty for the greater need? Also best to gauge her magical reserves - acceptable - she didn't have the ability to fight an extended constant battle but moments of repose allowed her to balance out her reservoir and emotionally balance herself in order to mitigate the overall loss. Plan of attack. Priorities. Possibilities. Conservation of remaining combat potential was a primary goal - mixed ranged and melee synergy allowed force amplification. Whole greater than sum of parts. In Common: she needed a meatshield. If Drei came under attack, she would shift to aiding him though - he was defenseless while holding the other two in place - the soldier would survive a short time on his own.
...She almost considered telling Drei to 'keep them busy,' but it seemed like a waste of breath and time, not to mention harmful to his concentration. Maybe a real leader would have known to do so. But she was just a shaman. So instead, Althea turned her attention fully to the closer fight at hand, the soldier clearly being pushed back by the undead warriors. Her own magic wasn't especially effective at dealing with them - if anything the lance might be better, or well, polearm, it looked to have some kind of axe-looking thing at the end? Dammit she was a magic user not a soldier, how was she supposed to know what the hell it was called. Hmm...
"You! Guard!" ...Ok, so she wasn't a people person, but what else was new? He didn't actually look back at her (was that a good sign or a bad one?), but the angling of his head suggested that he had heard. Probably. Dammit she really needed to hire an actual tactician or something. Regardless, as the Nether surged through her, coursing across both hands as she began to try something even dumber than usual, Althea continued. "-I will create an opening. Strike as best you can when the moment appears!" ...There had to be a better way to put that, but honestly the shaman was far too busy trying to concentrate on the spell to explain her plan in excruciating detail, and in the end it really boiled down to 'I distract, you smash bad guy.' Just in fancy sounding words, because she would rather be caught dead than saying any of that.
And so what if Drei had done it first? It wasn't plagiarism, it was just... inspiration. A sign of respect for a skilled mage. Yes, that was a good way to put it, she'd remember that one for later.
It was the events of the pirate attack that she drew primary inspiration from, though, with this being a simple, logical extension of that plan. She had needed sustained firepower then, and once again Althea found herself needing that power, casting her wishes into the roiling sea of Nether as if they were nets trawling the briny deep. And as ever, as thought and emotion overcame her, the darkness listened. Twin seals appeared before her hands, sinking her hands in darkness as they had once before, raising to an upright position - a small part of her noted that she really needed to figure out a way to detach the portals from limited hand motion - the twin sigils writing themselves into existence in sprawling script above her upstretched arms, her absolutely single minded focus split in twain. She had to - try to aim them both - balancing the flow of energy, buffering the seals and the output portals and the damage to her hands and her own limited magical essence pathing.
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Post by Drei on Apr 30, 2017 20:02:51 GMT -6
There were moments when he'd theorized that the magics of the nether could be used as an extension of perception, and one's sensory. Now, it could have been purely a placebo induced phenomenon that he experienced. Perhaps sheer unwavering will to break his foes had brought about the evocative sensation, yet he could not deny that he felt it. As the bonewalkers struggled with renewed vigor the shaman leaned forwards, body shifting as if pressing his weight against a mighty force of opposition. The essence channeling into his magic increased with a faint pulse, as if a single heart-beat within the void echoed outwards into reality through his bodily conduit. Mist like essence rushed to him surging around his palms as he further enhanced his spell. Then he felt it. The faint rippling splinters of bone. The cracking of a solid structure beneath his grip as if he tightened his embrace upon a particularly stubborn twig that was beginning to yield to the applied pressure.
Their struggling became more frantic yet also more punctuated. Each movement separated by intervals of exertion tending a toll that slowly built up. The Shaman's magic tendril's coiling further and further with the larger segment growing more prominent in presence around the skeletal fiends. Forearms quivered from both predator and prey as the spell commanded toll upon each. However Drei braced himself and accepted this. He allowed the dark tainted magic to freely extend from him as it obeyed his mental commands. Lost was he, and the fleeting distractions of reality fell by the wayside. All noise fell to silence as he focused upon his spell. The Shaman's dark spell began to grow as it was fed more power. The tips still extending like a vine fed along its growth at a quickened rate. Until it coiled up the base of the neck and snaked beneath the lower jaw before wrapping around the left hinge of the jaw. Movement had almost completely become restricted in both.
Drei's head was starting to throb. His gaze grew far more intense as he focused. Such was it however, that he did not register the combat that Althea had now maneuvered within her mind. The female's stratagem set as she began to focus on survival. While he did his best to keep these two away from her and the older male. At this point though the faint taste of victory lingered just out of reach and was slowly getting closer. Tantalizing, the Shaman spurned his magic further yet as he accepted the notion and walked towards that path.
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Post by Althea on May 2, 2017 17:15:04 GMT -6
Spacial coordinates locked in one - two - three dimensions; calculating ideal angle of attack. Positioning portals. Throttling essence flow - testing seal durability - calibrating radius for optimal output given target area constraints. Adjusting for target motion - approximating velocity - attempting to preclude evasion. Charge accelerating. Compensating for increased load. Flow within acceptable parameters.
Fire.
Twin torrents of screaming shadow plunged downward from the makeshift portals to the Nether, stressing under the weight of their burden but durable enough after her testing on the ship to at least not implode. One Bonewalker, focused on its target, was struck immediately by the - it wasn't a beam exactly, not nearly coherent and focused enough, but a constant stream of darkness that flowed over and around and through it, arresting its motion. The other creature had somehow seen it coming, sidestepping the initial blast, forcing her to divide her attention further to recalculate the vectors to shift the second portal over enough to catch it too. Not exactly as foolproof of an instant kill technique as she'd hoped. Against human opponents, intelligent ones, they certainly would have seen it coming.
Speaking of human opponents, the older soldier, once again to his credit, only started at the sudden downpour before regaining his senses. Shouting something about axing the creature a question, he brought his weapon in from the side, the large blade (maybe it was a poleaxe?) smashing through the distracted Bonewalker as though it were made of paper mache. The second one went down almost as fast; slightly ironically Althea found herself far more relieved to be able to stem the tide and rest her already exhausted body than that the fight itself was over. At least for now. Regardless, she was beyond caring about the wording, and found herself slumping up against the caravan wagon she had been closest to in very short order, half insensate to the world and VERY easy prey to any invisible Bonewalkers that might be waiting for their chance to strike.
"Should... we help that other lad?" The voice stirred a small portion of her attention, the guard's hesitant query likely aimed at Drei. It was pretty clear he was NOT used to... whatever the hell Drei was doing, and she got the feeling he didn't want to be anywhere close to the other shaman while he was doing his thing. Though at least it seemed it was more the use of magic that discomfited him rather than the type, at least given that he hadn't stabbed her yet or anything.
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Post by Drei on May 2, 2017 17:46:05 GMT -6
At this point his body was nearly permeating excess void essence. In an attempt to further restrain the sentient undead he'd opened every potential conduit within him. The eldritch entity of singular existence that was the void now freely flowing within. The Shaman's entire body taut. As if he'd seized up from some form of bodily attack or suffered some horrible malady. Flesh ghostly pale with no signs of flush to indicate an excess of blood flow or even regular so. Skin cold, despite his exertions. The searing pain throbbed angrily within his skull and nearly blinded him when he did not strain to endure. He couldn't falter. Not when on the very precipice of success.
For a final effort, the void echoed outwards once more with a pulse of umbral magic. Sable tides briefly exuding in every direction from the Shaman while his robes billowed and he audibly shouted at the strain of his spell. A single utterance before he snapped his eyes shut and condensed his hands. Palms crashing closed and arms slamming downwards as the tendrils collapsed inwards upon the bonewalkers. The immense force obliterating segments of bone and cracking entire portions of their bodies while the tipped spikes punctured straight through the skulls before sundering outwards to cleave them twain from tip down through the draw in a clean cut. The snapping and cracking of both punctuated by a whispered rush of fell winds as Drei's ruin tendrils dissipated seconds later.
The spell faded with a shower of inky black mist descending, chunks of bone raining down with weapons littering in muffled thuds before settling harmlessly upon the earthen floor. Ashen bangs clung through sweat to his forehead, matted against his face as the sacaen boy's knee's buckled and he swiftly dropped down. Body weight shifting so he leaned backwards upon his heels in sitting poise, definitively unable to stand in that brief moment. His lungs unable to obtain nearly enough air, his ragged breaths caused his chest to rise and fall in great heaves as he slowly began to take in his surroundings. There was a blur of white that he could assume was Althea. Her hair at-least if nothing else. The soldier, or one of them stood present. Which meant they hadn't died yet. That was good. he felt entirely the opposite. Yet for the moment, bodily at-least the worst had passed and he could very slowly feel the pain and aches staring to ebb away. Words could not find him at that precise moment so he settled for more panting, and a hand to his knee as he readied himself to stand. A task that, in present condition, felt like it would require a bit of a prep.
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Post by Althea on May 2, 2017 18:42:15 GMT -6
As ever, the strain of Nether magic was felt thrice over; mind, body, and spirit all flagged in the wake of her exertions, and Althea found herself quite ready to lie down and take a nap. The caravan would be fine, probably.
She was interrupted from her thoughts by a steady pressure to her stomach, opening her eyes to see the soldier poking the... bottom end of the... stick part of his weapon into her, half smiling and half frowning in a way that was very hard to describe. "Ey. Don't y'all going dying on me yet, girlie." ...She actually couldn't tell if he was messing with her or thought that would stop her from dying. Which, er, she wasn't, but if she had been, it probably wouldn't have helped. "I'm fine," she responded, just a tiny bit too much sass and vinegar in the second word for a totally emotionless and heartless dark magic monster. He seemed unconvinced. "Well, if yer still awake, you can get back to fighting. That other magickin' feller seems to be in worse shape than ya, and I don't see him complainin' about some minor dis-comforts."
Not quite able to summon the energy to argue with him, she turned her head to look at Drei, who seemed to be... alive, probably, on his knees and a bit out of it but not gushing gigantic torrents of blood from countless holes in his body. "He'll be fine," she stated, more authoritatively than was entirely proper. "He does that a lot." Wouldn't be Drei without nearly killing himself trying to cast. She was pretty sure he had showmanship engraved into his very soul to the point that he couldn't just cast like a normal person... but then she wasn't really in any position to judge.
"HEY! BOY!" She cringed almost immediately at the sudden explosion of volume as the guardsman made his desire to get Drei's attention very, VERY clear. "Get over here!" Not quite able to put enough words together to argue or agree, Althea settled for raising one hand to wave at Drei, on the off chance he actually started paying attention. She wasn't gonna carry him over but maybe captain Hasnotact here wanted to volunteer!
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Post by Drei on May 2, 2017 19:44:04 GMT -6
Right. So someone had the volume on that man set to a high level. If he had to ensnare the man's jaws shut to prevent that from happening again he would certainly look to it. Ah. At-least, when the wildfire burning almost everything in his brain calmed down and he could think again without the very notion sending a rippling wave of splitting pain through every crevice of his skull. The man's obnoxiously loud voice did serve to further anchor him to reality however. A shaky pale hand weakly clapped to his knee as he tried to force himself up. The weight of his body feeling so heavy that he was almost certain his knee's wobbled for a moment. The bulk of his body shifting to his right leg first as he tried, causing his left leg to briefly buckle again before he fully stood, the shaman saw a single hand ascend and wave to him. At this point Althea looked about as great condition wise as he felt. In-fact his first step was almost his last as he stumbled and nearly fell flat out.
So, he wouldn't try to bank on surviving too long, knowing today's day and age. However he was really looking forward to that point when he could utilize stronger magics and not feel like he'd just signed himself up for a swimming lesson with stones tied to his everything. While getting punched by a large muscled merc or an angry pirate. However he managed to hobble over, only to partially flop, and partially smash sideways against the wagon with his legs pressed at an angle to lock his legs and prevent him from falling. He quietly gestured with no real ability to speak loudly, towards the soldier before gazing at Althea whom he was now near.
"This man's with you?"
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