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Post by Vincent on Apr 21, 2017 21:24:55 GMT -6
The world was dark and yet there was a swirling fog all around him, spinning, spinning. "Ugh, what? Where am I?" Vincent looked around seeing not but more darkness. He stepped forward in confusion and still found nothing until he found himself running, sprinting. As he ran the fog obscured his vision. Spinning, spinning.
"Anyone!? Is anyone there!?" The mercenary was growing desperate now. His running slowed, spinning, spinning. He felt dizzy, sick even. Spinning, spinning. He stumbled and fell to the floor, it too was equally dark, unknowable. "H-h-help!"
Spinning, spinning, SPINNING!!! Everything was spinning, his mind, the fog, the world, and then: Falling. "AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Vincent shot awake grabbing his dagger off the end table and looking for enemies. He was drenched in sweat but found nothing but a dark and empty room.
He half stood out of his rack and half caught within the blankets tangled up. He suddenly felt terribly sick and collapsed dry heaving before he found blood following. He breathed raggedly and in horror. What was wrong with him. Gathering what strength he could he rose from the floor and supported himself on the wall.
He could not think straight, he could not feel properly, he was numb and unwell. Stepping out of his room he saw a familiar sight, James stood before him with an elongated neck from his hanging. His eyes like pits into the nether. He screamed and scrambled back shutting his eyes and clutching his head. When he opened them again he was gone.
"I need fresh air." He concluded and made his way out of the inn. The night was young still with the moon high in the sky. The cool air seemed to clear his head. His breathing began to level out again making him realize how constricted his chest had felt. He coughed into his sleeve but this time there was no blood. He looked around still panicked but found no assassin.
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Post by Duma on Apr 26, 2017 19:03:48 GMT -6
Cornwell
For a place that's named for Corn.. there's a surprisingly small amount of it. Duma mused to himself as he walked down the path towards the inn. He passed a farm that grew mostly wheat. Perhaps the corn fields are on the other side. It was the middle of the night so he had a lantern in his hand to guide him. It had been months since his last real job. The escort mission with the priest and orphans had ended a season ago. His life had returned to that what it was before, a wandering swordsman. He had intentions to return to Sacae but decided to make a pitstop in Cornwell. The territory was relatively small compared to the other's Lycia had and it was more associated to the guilds than anything else. Perhaps he would take the opportunity to see if his old guild had a stand in these parts.
He sighed softly. Duma was dressed more and more like a poor swordsman. He wore a plain cloak over his regular attire. And a straw hat to keep the light off of his face. Although it was night time now, he had no need to keep the straw hat on. But, he kept it on because it felt comfortable. He had his arm held up in front of him so as to maximize the light of the lantern. His outstretched arm showed off his traditional dusty green clothes. The orange light of the lantern glistened off of his swords. Swords that had been polished and maintained. He arrived at the base of the inn just a few paces away from the small set of steps that led to the inn's door. The door had its own lanterns which provided enough light. He blew out the light of his own lantern. He had just put his arm down and was getting ready to go inside when someone walked out. At first, he mistook the light haired man as some sick drunkard.. but then realized he knew this young mercenary very well. Of all the places. He shook his head. Then he grabbed his canteen and approached. He decided to toy with Vincent for a bit. Kept his head low so that he could not get a proper look off his face.
"Young man you look like you could use a drink." He handed the canteen towards him.
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Post by Vincent on Apr 26, 2017 20:05:25 GMT -6
Vincent was still trying to recover when suddenly he heard an all too familiar voice speak to him. His mind was still racing and feral so he reacted with a sharp jerk. Despite himself he brought his dagger up defensively... "Duma?" his voice was rough and hoarse, even Vincent was taken aback by it.
Clearing his throat he recovered, "Er," he lowered the blade and looked around like there was going to be someone lurking in the dark. "Uh..." He looked at his state of dress and shrunk away. He was not only shoeless but completely a disheveled mess. "Forgive me, I am feeling unwell." it was only then did his mind register Duma's offer for a drink. He needed no further prodding to partake and soon took large over dramatic gulps. The type you could see the liquid push against the throat as it dropped.
More heavy breathing followed as he returned the canteen. "I did not expect to meet anyone I know right now, least of all you." Vincent grinned. He looked up at Duma and in a flash the face of his friend warped into that of the assassin's blood dribbling from the mouth and voices speaking from unmoving lips; all of them accusing him of murder.
He shut his eyes and covered his ears. It was maddening and the world around him distorted. They weren't real! Something else was at work here, there had to be! Was that even Duma before him? An apparition? A specter? "Ugh, stop!" He spoke through clenched teeth. Duma could not see or hear the things Vincent did.
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Post by Duma on Apr 27, 2017 19:33:43 GMT -6
Duma frowned a bit. He wasn't fond of having a dagger pointed directly at him. Perhaps surprising Vincent like that wasn't the best course of action. He should have known that his voice would have given his identity away. Well so much for trying to mess around.
"It's good to see you too Vincent." He replied in a stoic tone. He sighed softly as he watched Vincent gulp down the water like he hadn't drunk it before. It was here at this point Duma took a good hard look at Vincent. The swordsman noticed that something was wrong with the white haired mercenary. His disheveled appearance and now yelling at specters was more than enough to convince him of something being totally wrong. He waited until his canteen was returned before doing any other sort of action.
"Snap out of it man!" Duma smacked Vincent with an open palm. He made sure to hit his forehead and felt it be very damp.
"Are you sick with a fever or something Vincent?" He asked with some concern on his face. The swordsman wanted nothing more than to boot the mercenary up towards his room. Maybe force a tonic down his throat to help with the fever and get him to sleep.
"How long have you been feeling like this?" He wanted Vincent to talk to him. Perhaps he could figure out what sort of tonic to make. Duma knew a little bit about herbal medicine thanks to the Sacean tribes. Or probably buy him a stiff drink. Both tended to have the same effect.
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Post by Vincent on Apr 28, 2017 16:39:43 GMT -6
Vincent stumbled backwards falling into the outer walls of the inn to support himself, but even these were not enough and he slowly slid down into a hug the knees position to sit. The hero groaned to the question asked. "Just tonight... I don't know what is wrong with me. I just..." How does he describe what just happened to him?
He looked up at Duma feeling oddly pitiful. Vincent took a moment to irritably mumble a string of curses to himself. Finally he meets Duma, the man that had only just beaten him by awakening new power, and the swordsman he most wanted to face again, and it is a most troublesome meeting.
"Its uh... its good to see you... ... ... I guess." He really wanted to mean it but like this it was difficult to. "I am sorry..."
From the shadows a pair of mages watched the two figures speak with one another, the pair each wearing matching skull masks. "It seems that things just got a lot more complicated. That swordsman looks to know him." A male's voice spoke.
"It would seem so. But I thought his accomplice was a girl with a spear." A feminine sound this time. "Should we report this or...?"
"No, not yet. I want to observe and learn more, perhaps we can use this swordmaster to our own ends."
"What do you have in mind? We can't very well have him going mad as well."
"We don't need to. But what if we turned him into the boy's enemy?"
"Hmm? I am listening."
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Post by Duma on Apr 28, 2017 20:18:06 GMT -6
Duma looked at Vincent with a bit of a stoic face, he sighed again. Duma walked up to Vincent and crouched down with him. He glanced up at the half moon and mused to himself.
"Sounds like you got slipped something in your drink. Or you might be cursed." He shrugged lightly.
"Terrible night for a curse eh?" He tried to add a bit of humor into this sort of situation. Even though Duma was sure Vincent had no idea what he was saying. Or even the person he was making a reference too. He shook his head lightly. This probably was not the best time to be making jokes.
"Looks like I'm going to have to watch over you." Even though both men were only a few years apart in age, he couldn't help but see Vincent as a young man. He hadn't been responsible for taking care of sick people since Mila. And even though Mila was exactly the same age as him, he sometimes saw her as a little sister that needed support. Mila was shorter than him when they were together. And one of his most vivid memories of them together was him preparing all sorts of soup in order to combat cold. But the mage had been out of his life for so long now he had almost forgotten how it felt to act like a brother.
"But, I do not want to be watching over you outside like this." He got up and offered his hand to Vincent.
"Here, let me help you get back inside. I've got some chamomile on me. Its tea will help you relax." He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There was something about this whole situation that he did not like. And he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
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Post by Vincent on Apr 29, 2017 12:54:39 GMT -6
'Or you might be cursed,' As Duma spoke Vincent's head dropped into his lap. Terrible night to be cursed indeed. Vincent did not know the reference Duma was making with that statement, nor that it even was a reference, but he did find himself agreeing with the statement.
Keeping his head down like this felt comfortable. It was strange, it took him back to being a child when he would be scared. He would hide in a corner with his head hidden in his legs until whatever was wrong would fix itself. Many times Ash would have been in Duma's place, but... Ash hated him now and he was no child. He was approaching twenty years of age now, as much a man as any in his village.
Duma's offer to watch him was both a blow to his pride and a much appreciated sentiment. Though he would hide his face so Duma would never see it Vincent smiled into his knees. Looking back up his face was neutral as he took his hand. As Duma pulled Vincent up he was reminded that despite his agility Duma was still strong as up he went in a hurry.
"Chamomile?" Vincent asked rhetorically. He was never big on teas, enjoying water and eating fruits for their juices. Of course he also enjoyed a glass of hard cider, but not much for other harder drinks. "I appreciate this Duma. Though, there are things I wish to discuss behind closed doors, I feel we could be in danger." His steps were sluggish at first but soon he was back in full form.
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Post by Duma on May 1, 2017 19:37:54 GMT -6
Duma guided Vincent back inside. He did a quick check behind them to make sure he didn't see anyone possibly peeking at them. He caught a brief glimpse of someone in a hood. But, that person was gone before he could get a better look. Well, that at least partially confirmed that they were being watched. Whether by coincidence or by malice had yet to be seen.
"Yes, Chamomile. It's a bright little flower. Good for all sorts of things." Keep the discussion on something trivial. He muttered to himself. He wanted to keep them talking about something unimportant until they were out of earshot of everyone. He hoped that Vincent would follow his lead in terms of idle banter.
"Everything from sleep disorders, to upset stomach, even skin rashes." He spoke as he eventually Vincent back up to his room. Well more like Vincent guided him. Duma had no idea where his room was since he just got there. Once, they were up in his room Duma closed the door and locked it. He gently sat Vincent down on his bed, then pulled up a chair of his own. He kept himself within eye level of Vincent, watching his reaction. Watching to see if his color or breathing changed. When he felt that Vincent was calm, he spoke.
"Vincent, I don't know what you've gotten into. But, I think you have a tail on you. I'm going to go back down, do a little reconnaissance, and prepare the tea. I will knock two times upon my return." Duma lifted up his hand showing three fingers. This was a code.
"Understand?" Duma would knock three times to prove his identity. Anyone who was overhearing through the door or through some magic would have heard two knocks.
"I want you to stay here and don't answer to anyone. If.. you freak out again. Don't leave the room."
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Post by Vincent on May 2, 2017 0:49:27 GMT -6
It was not right, this was wrong, this was all wrong. As Duma aided him back to his room it all felt wrong. Not being helped but rather, the building itself. He was coughing up blood and ill a moment ago but now it was gone like it... no, it never actually existed did it? Vincent felt a cold sweat. The kind that came from sheer fear and realization of something horrible happening.
Duma had made a comment about a tail on him. It felt woefully obvious now and made cause for fear being reminded of it. Assassins in the shadows once more, could he not escape that legacy in the end?
"I understand, TWO KNOCKS, and its you." Wink, wink. "But, Duma, seriously be careful out there. Whoever has it out for me, I doubt they will let you go unscathed, and... the way they mess with your head is not like anything I have seen before. Nor wish for anyone to see."
They targeted him in his sleep the last time they attacked his mind and senses, so he doubted they would strike again so brazenly, but he was experienced enough now not to put it past them. So in the end he agreed to Duma's orders. With a sigh he flopped back onto his bed. He ached all over at this point and wanted nothing more than to sleep for a day but to do so would expose himself.
The hidden assailants were waiting for Duma now. They did not know who the man was, but perhaps he could be of use. The brother was outside the tavern waiting to speak with him, but only an Aura copy. If things turned bitter he would not expose himself so.
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Post by Duma on May 2, 2017 8:06:25 GMT -6
A soft smile crept on Duma's face as Vincent confirmed he understood the code. He was also content to see that the mercenary had promptly taken his advice to heart and flopped on the bed. That eased some of his worry. The swordsman quietly got up, picked up his bag, and left the room. He went downstairs and took a seat at the bar. He wanted to ask the owner if he could borrow his kitchen. When asked what for he responded with an order to make a pot of tea. The request was simple enough and Duma did bribe him with a little coin. After a bit Duma was taken to the back and given a little teapot and instructions as to where to fill it.
Duma did as he was told. He appeared to be making tea in a civil manner. He knew Vincent wasn't well and he was genuinely concerned for him Andi's well being. But, this tea making served a greater purpose. Not only was he going to make a warm drink to help his ailing friend. He had secured the fact that this tea wasn't poisoned. He also learned of two potential exits and entrances to the inn. The kitchen had a window and a back door that lead to a compost heap. As well as a shed down in the back meant for storage. The kitchen also gave him a view of the patrons in the lower level of the inn. As he waited for the water to come to a boil, he hummed a small melody. He smiled softly at the kitchen maids all in an effort not to hide his real intentions. They paid him no mind. The hooded figure from before caught his attention. That person was outside at least from what he could see. No one had made any effort to run up the stairs yet.
He counted the members of the establishment, the staff, and slowly charted their movements. When the tea pot started singing he went to work. He carefully pulled the hot pot out of fire. Put it on a wooden tray. And then made his way back out of the kitchen. He'd deliver the tea first before going back out and confront those he suspected of being trouble makers.
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Post by Vincent on May 4, 2017 19:56:34 GMT -6
Duma deserved to know just what Vincent was getting himself involved with, and now by extension himself. No, it was not beyond the realms of possibility that they were not related to his current mission, he had a number of enemies after all, but it struck him as far too convenient of timing.
Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks, that meant it must be Duma. When Vincent answered the door he was relieved to find that yes, it was in fact he. As the tea was dished out Vincent was grateful to have it to drink. He was never a fan of tea, sure, but he was reconsidering drinking it more. Ought to help with not letting there be a ruined kettle the next time Mila visited as well.
"Duma." He began softly. "I think I know who is after me. I don't know them personally but I took a job." A vague answer he would need to elaborate on. "There are bandits that have rallied behind an unknown lord and my task is to find out who. I have already had one run in with their numbers and it wasn't exactly the first time for it. I think they sent someone to deal with me tonight." He shook his head softly. "I don't know what all they can do, but be careful okay? And if they have skull masks doubly so!" His cautions came out more like orders.
He fiddled with his thumbs. "Even though they are bandits they have members with magic weapons, powerful magic weapons." He needed to stress their capability, far too often was it easy to let go unnoticed. Bandits were a joke among the mercenaries of the world, not with bigger game like monsters these days.
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Post by Duma on May 6, 2017 14:57:24 GMT -6
Duma quietly listened to Vincent's troubles as he started serving the tea. He had a quiet expression to him as he served. The tea water was soft yellow color. Duma added a little bit more of the chamomile leaves to the bottom of the mugs. He passed the mug off to Vincent. Duma didn't serve a cup for himself as he needed to stay awake. He would be the one that would be on guard.
"Skull masks huh." Duma mused. He did not know of any organizations that readily donned skull masks. But, it sounds like who ever was after Vincent meant serious business.
"Powerful magics.. hmm." Duma sat there for a moment with his chin on his hands. His mind flashed backed to his childhood. He recalled a moment in time where the family was sitting around at the fire. Their father was reading to them a guide on magic. His father was an expert on Anima magic while his uncle was a shaman who helped to patch the holes in his brother's theories. The adults spoke of magics that could manipulate the mind. This memory was exceptionally vivid as he recalled Mila's own childish theories about the good effects of mind control magic. Meanwhile all Duma could think about were the bad effects of mind control. You could use the mental magic to resolve the conflict peacefully. I dobut it. It's easier to ruin your enemy. In case they think about stabbing you in the back after you make amends. The adults emphasized that these spells shouldn't be used as they have consequences to both caster and victim.
Duma shook his head slightly.
"I guess.. you are cursed." He cracked a soft smile.
"There.. are two tomes that I know of that could harm the mind. One is a dark tome called Worm. Like the animal.. when infected by worm.. you feel sick.. tired.. the worm spell can wriggle it's way into your mind and have you see things that reside in nightmares." He sighed.
"The other is a light spell. Aura. It's an illusion tome.. meant to manipulate the light and have you see things that aren't there. Mirages of people that aren't there. I have my suspicions as to who's cursing you presently.. I saw a few suspicious characters downstairs. I couldn't see if they had masks though."
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Post by Vincent on May 8, 2017 16:14:28 GMT -6
There he goes making that cursed joke again, the more cynical side of Vincent was inclined to agree with that sentiment. It felt at times like he really and truly was good and cursed. He followed that up with an explanation of two separate tomes that could be used against him to make him feel as he does now.
"Wait! A tome to make you sick and another to make you see things? Duma, I think there are two mages out here. At least two," he corrected. "I've been disoriented and sick, as well as seeing things. Light and dark are too opposite for it to be just one." At least he hoped that it was not just one, there may be no defeating a monster like that.
Despite himself Vincent perked up to this new information. If the assessment was correct then he knew the magics that were assailing him, and if he knew that he could combat them. Grabbing hold of Phoenix Heart he began to prepare himself to go back out. "It all makes sense now that you've told me all of this!" He nearly laughed about it.
Suddenly, queasiness took him. "Ooooo." He doubled over hands on his knees. "How. Urp, how long can one casting of Worm last on a target?" Or maybe he was just feeling sick from something he ate? At this point there was no telling, the food last night was a bit questionable. Well, aside from the roast duck with Eris, but that was lunch.
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Post by Duma on May 12, 2017 19:20:51 GMT -6
Duma shook his head and gingerly re-escorted Vincent back to bed. The young man was in no condition to deal with mages while under the effects of worm. Or under the effects of any magic to be honest.
"Yes. I had assumed so. Two mages. I think one is outside.. and the other is.. hiding." He sighed softly. This is quite the conundrum. He closed his eyes. Again his thoughts returned to the home. Back to his uncle and father who had shown them the effects of Aura and Worm. His father had shown him Aura. By making a something as simple as a book whips and wither into nothing. Or what they thought was nothing. The book was always there on the table they just couldn't see it well. And worm was shown by their uncle. Who made both children mildly sick. Brother stop it! Mila is turning white! And their uncle would sigh then shrug as he broke the spell's binding effects. Light weights! He remembered their uncle shouting before he called for their in-house healer. He didn't remember being quite as sick as his twin sister but he did remember a massive headache he had afterward.
"The effects of Worm and Aura vary. Remember it's a spell. The caster has to invest time and energy into casting the spell to harm you. So as long as you feel its effects, there is a good chance the wielder is straining his or herself to keep you sick." Duma took a moment to think about his next plan of action. He couldn't exactly rush out there and start hack-slashing at any suspicious person. After all, they could be innocently suspicious people, being suspicious for a variety of non-Vincent related reasons.
"Stay in bed. Drink the tea. And try to beare it as much as you can while keeping your own wits about you." He shook his head again.
"My uncle once told me something he heard from a traveling woman. That these sorts of spells are a kind of magic that gives life to dreams. Whether it is a dream of joy or horror depends very much on the victim. But, like all things.. they have limitations. It is harder to charm someone who has a higher willpower for example." He got up.
"Keep phoenix heart close to you. And try your hardest not to lose your mind. Focus on your weapon. Focus on your will and the belief that you do not want to be cursed." He nodded then went back downstairs. It was time to put an end to his companion's suffering. But, he needed to be subtle about it. He went back downstairs and ordered himself a cup of warm mead. He casually walked outside towards the front porch like the area and took a seat on one of the empty chairs. He put his drink down on a nearby table and sighed softly. It was a nice night. A nice moon and a clear sky. He sat himself a little bit away from the torchlight and made sure he could be seen through a window. He knew these mages were out here somewhere. He took a pear from his bag as well as a little knife and carefully began to peel the skin off of the fruit. He even hummed a small tune. Just look as simple and as casual as possible Duma. Don't draw suspicion to yourself. They will come to you to hurt him.
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Post by Vincent on May 14, 2017 17:04:57 GMT -6
Vincent was forced to accept rest, but that did not mean he had to become idle. Duma's words about willpower being the key to keeping them out struck a cord, it was always willpower was it not? He had a good ironic laugh at that one. So as Duma departed to deal with the heart of the conflict Vincent was left to deal with an internal strife. He was never much of one for meditation, but now? Now was as good a time as any to start.
He sat cross legged on his rack with Phoenix Heart in his lap. His right hand was clutched around the hilt. 'Let me hear your voice. Help me to fight against the onslaught of the mind.'
'I shall do what I may, but know that if you should give in you will be consumed in the flames.'
'That is acceptable. It is a better alternative to madness.'
He relaxed himself and breathed deeply. He could feel the worm at the edge of his mind. He would have to repel it, or... perhaps he could let it in, and burn it from the inside out? The flames of divine could trace its magic to the source, if properly overpowered the caster would be destroyed in turn.
The brother sage danced and twirled delightedly in the streets as he approached Duma. He was the one casting Aura after all so he could walk more freely. His hood was high and his face obscured by a skull. "You are the swordmaster Duma, no?" He was forthcoming in revealing himself. Perhaps another illusion to keep himself safe. "You are a man without much presence but your skills could be legendary with the right push." His grin was wide but hidden.
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