Sènkha is lying silently, covers drawn up as usual, though they're slightly mussed, as if someone was lying beside her.
Wheaton enters the back room quietly. His already heavy heart sinks further to see Senkha exactly the same. He leans over to gently straighten the wrinkled blankets.
Sènkha 's leg braces squeak at the slightest movement of the bed, though she's still lying there silently and peacefully. The bruises have cleared up from her face; she may as well just be sleeping.
Wheaton kneels down at Senkha's bedside and stretches over the top of it a bit to grasp at one of her hands with both of his. For the longest time he simply watches her face, still and serene.
As Llew settles there, he lets out the heaviest sigh. He draws her hand toward him and leans closer until his cheek is on the bed. He shifts her hand carefully until her palm is covering the portion of his face that is not against the bed; the eye that is now scarred and eyeless. He doesn't say a word outloud. But there is plenty running through his head.
I miss you. I love you. I'm so glad you're okay. Please wake up soon. Please wake up soon.
She doesn't respond to any of this outwardly, but oddly, he'd hear her voice in his head--groggy, tired, like she's just waking up from a long nap. "Llew?"
He sighs quietly at the sound of her voice. A residual memory from what feels like such a long time ago. He grips her hand gently and presses his face into it. "I miss you," he says again in his head. Even the tone of his thoughts are heavy.
A sense of amusement and sadness, like she really -wants- to wake up but just can't. The sense that she'd be holding his hand if she could. "I miss you, too. I'm sorry about your eye. Oliver told me about it."
He carries his own feelings of sadness and doubt with him, only these aren't misplaced imprints stamped upon him by other parties. These fears and pains are of his own doing. Such as yet he does not realize this is really happening; he assumes he's projecting. "It's okay, babygirl," he says gently, tiredly. "I have a spare."
Sènkha is being held, at least in part, by Llew. She looks like she's just down for an afternoon nap.
Mariius eases himself into the back room a few minutes later. He finds himself standing near the foot of Senkha's bed, offering Wheaton a quiet glance.
Mariius says: ... Howso has she progressed.
Wheaton is stretched across the side of the bed with his face mostly hidden under Senkha's hand. He draws back at the sound of the voice and looks up tired.
Wheaton says: She.. certainly looks better..
Wheaton says this wearily, quietly. He looks back to his cousin and reaches out to stroke her hair.
Mariius says: -Her mind? Oliver?
"Llew, what's wrong? Are you alright?"
Wheaton looks back to Marius with a shake of his head and a shrug. "I... has she been talking?" He totally has no idea. But he pauses as a voice sounds. "Babygirl?" He looks down at Senkha, as if expecting to see her awake.
Sènkha is completely and totally motionless; she even goes so far as to sigh in her sleep.
Mariius says: I don't know. After returning, I was in repair for some time-- And this past week, have been fighting to get things back to normal, and to save our stray Sigil. These conflicts have come to a close, now-- At least in part. I cannot heal, yet, and have left her in the care of your fellows.
Wheaton keeps his eyes on Senkha though he is speaking to Marius. "I'll.. I'll have one of them contact you then, I .. I don't know anything. I'm sorry."
Mariius says: It's alright. I'd appreciate an update, when there is time. For now, it is good that she remains here.
Senkha is trying -so hard- to wake up, but it's just not happening. Something's blocking it. As it is, she simply comments, "That sounds like Marius. I can't Cast. Light, I wish I could Cast..."
Wheaton nods at that and looks to Marius again. He offers a small smile. "Thanks for giving her a safe place. I really appreciate it. I'm sure everyon--" He pauses again, looking back at the woman on the bed.
Mariius nods quietly
Wheaton leans closer to Senkha. "Sennie? Sennie, can you hear me?"
The sleepiness returns, along with a sense of amusement. What, isn't this normal? "Of course I can. I didn't realize you'd learned to do this."
Wheaton hovers there over her, brow furrowed heavily. The confusion that was in him on his arrival has shifted a little. The sound of her voice has calmed his other fears, but roused a new uncertainty. "Do what?... I ..." He squeezes her hand and stops talking aloud. Instead, he thinks: "You can hear me?"
"-Yes-. I didn't know that you could do this, too. I guess I shouldn't be surprised...you're the one who taught me to sneak around, after all." A sense of warmth from her, fondness.
Wheaton's hand extends to gently stroke over her hair again. "I.. you can really hear me?" There is such relief in his voice. Everything about him calms significantly. His smile lifts. "Light.. Sennie.. how are you?"
Senkha doesn't respond at all physically; outwardly, they may as well not even be conversing. Inwardly, though, she's beyond happy to hear from him. "Tired...I wish I could wake up. She won't let me, though." After a beat. "How are you?"
Llew thinks his own issues maybe aren't all that important now. He gently grips her hand. "I'm still alive . . . who won't let you wake up?"
Itzhal's laugh sounds from somewhere far away. "-Her-. My mind's badly broken, Llew. It's getting better...she's fixed nearly all of the damage my mother did. It's a lot of stuff, really." She seems reluctant to admit that it may still be a while.
He certainly knows that laugh. And somewhere deep inside him something stirs in response to it. The ripple is momentary, however. Llew leans forward to kiss her forehead. "Yeah. Well. Yer ma was some kinda hosebeast."
"She was. But she's gone now." She clearly doesn't want to talk much about what's going on in her mind; whatever it is, it makes her uncomfortable. "How are you?" she repeats the question, a sense of comfort moving towards him.
Part of him thinks it's time to draw back and let her rest; let her fix herself and not have to worry about anyone else's issues. But the other part of him responds to that comforting feeling that is so familiar. A soft, wavering sigh shakes out of him. "I'm just so happy that you're getting better, babygirl," he whispers. "So happy."
"Promised I would, didn't I?" Senkha seems amused by everyone's pleasure that she's getting well. "Oliver said it's been a week that I've been asleep."
"Yeah," he says gently. His smile lifts as he strokes her hair. "Is it cozy in there?"
She's still reluctant. "It's lonely. Oliver's here, sometimes, but it's lonely."
"I'm sorry, Sen. I would've come talk to you before now if I knew I could."
"I didn't even know you could. Did someone teach you to do this?" This is a much more cheerful topic of conversation than Senkha's health, so she pounces on it.
"Um.. I guess... you did.. just now?" He chuckles quietly. "I thought for a second you were awake."
"I wish I was." Once again, she changes the topic. "How's your girl? Bryn, right? Is she okay?"
"Bryn. Yeah.. she's, uh. She's alright. Slowly being inducted into the Llew Wheaton Hate Club, I think." Another small chuckle.
"How so? Llew, you did tell her before you ran off to find me, didn't you?"
" .... mm... which time." Subject skirter.
"Llew." He'd get the impression that she badly wants to be staring him down. "What did you do."
"Nothin'... technically.. there's just this girl in town that I, uh... y'know." Light, it's like talking to his own mother. If she were staring at him, he'd certainly be shrinking in her gaze.
"Did you cheat on her?!" Senkha is disappoint. Please tell me you didn't cheat on her, Llew, that would not be okay.
"No, no. Of course I didn't. No." His jaw tightens, however. Came too close too doing it for comfort though. That discomfort is palpable.
Senkha backtracks some; he would get the sense that if she could, she'd be curled up in his lap, like she did when she was younger. "Tell me about the other girl. What's she like?"
"Sid is.. well. Sid is Sid. She's got her own ship, her own crew. She's loud and crass and fuckin' gorgeous. And I've known her since she was a kid. Long time."
"Do you love her?"
Llew sighs. "I do. It's never somethin' I considered really though because all these years she always said she didn't want nothin' like that.. then she found out about Bryn and the next thing I know.. she's tellin' me she's loved me since she was a girl." If he could curl around her right now, he certaily would. "And I told Bryn what she said.. fuckin' stupid move on my part."
"Yes, yes it was." An inward sigh. "Are you -in- love with her? With Sid, I mean."
"I don't-- yeah, I. I guess. I--" He stops. His confusion is obvious. "I'm startin' to wonder if I even know what that feels like. I can't stop thinkin' about her. I can't stand the thought of not bein' near her.. or of another man near her. It never used to bother me. But now? It's drivin' me crazy."
"You've never had to deal with the possibility of losing her before. You could always assume she would be there and it'd be true. Only now... well, what do you feel for Bryn? The same way?" There's no judgment here; if anything, she's trying to help him sort through his own feelings.
"I just wanna take care of that girl. So bad. I want to make sure she's safe and that she's always got food and a warm place, and I want her to always feel like sombody loves her. An' I told her I'd do that for her. I wanna do that for her."
"It sounds like you want to adopt her."
He lets out a slight grunt. "Ain't like she's some little stray kitten I picked up off the street . . ." Except it totally is.
"How did you start sleeping with Bryn? How old is she?"
And this is where things get a bit painful for him. "She's nineteen... she, uh... I was tryin' to keep my hands off her but she just.. " He can't even finish that thought aloud. Except he forgets they aren't talking aloud: "She was practically begging for it. Just puttin' herself in my lap and takin' off her clothes. Fuck," he sighs.
"Tell me more about her. Have you met her father?" If she could, Senkha would be resting her head on Llew's shoulder, but as it is, she's simply resting and letting him know she's there.
"She's an orphan. She grew up in the streets back in Gilneas. She don't know anything about her parents except they're dead."
"Did anyone raise her at all, or did she raise herself?"
"She got caught up with some gang... they made her do all kinna shit. Were real bad to 'er.. it's taken a lot for her just to get close to me, y'know.. and sometimes she still flinches, or cringes when I touch her.. breaks my heart." He quiets a little, the sense of him drawing nearer to her grows.
Psychologist Senkha may as well be writing things down; as it is, she simply inwardly sighs again; he'd have the sense of arms around him. "It sounds like she doesn't know how to tell the difference between a father's love and a lover's love."
This is not what he wants to hear. He already sort of knew it for himself, but it sounds so much worse coming from Senkha. "And I don't know where to draw the line."
She'd kiss him on the temple if she could; everything she says is said with love, gentleness, and understanding. "You're like me. You want to be loved, so drawing the line is hard. It just feels -so good- to have someone love you, someone be that for you that you don't know when to say when, even when it might be for the best."
Tears really sting at his eye. His heart clenches up uncomfortably. God, Senkha, make the big lug cry. :( Yet again she's right. She knows him too well. "I don't want to hurt her," he says weakly. "I want to make sure she's happy and safe."
"Tell me more about Bryn. I don't know her at all. She's obviously young; has she ever been with a man before?"
He gives a small shrug. "I don't know for sure. A lot of stuff's happened to her. I think I might be the only one, but it isn't something we've ever talked about."
"It'd probably really break her heart if you broke things off, but at this point...it might hurt her more if you stay. Still..." More inward reluctance, though this time accompanied by a laugh. "You don't want to leave her just because of Sid. That's not the real problem here."
"No, it isn't. The problem is I'm an asshole." He frowns deeply. He's really never felt this strongly about any woman before. Ever. Not even close.
A fondness and a warmth towards him. "Well, yeah. You are. Kind of. But that's not the real problem, honestly. Llew, don't hate me, but...honestly, I think that if you just run into Sid's arms after this, it'll end in disaster. Why do you two keep moving away from each other?"
"Because she's just like me. She wants what she can't have. She takes what she shouldn't." She's just like me.
"So it sounds like, no matter how strongly you feel for her, she might be the worst person for you. Once you two have each other...sure, it'll be great for a little while, but what happens once you're used to it?"
He leans over against her, relaxing, though it's more of a defeated slump. "You're absolutely right. We'd just end up hurting each other. And probably on purpose.. "
"I'm not saying never, Llew. I'm just saying...you know. For now. Until she grows up. Until you grow up. Who knows, she may be made for you as much as Oliver is made for me." Another brush of her lips against his temple. "But not right now."
If ever he needed to be held by someone, it'd be now. He wraps around her so tight and lets out another sigh. "You're right.. just like always." He smiles. "When did you become the adult in this relationship, anyway? Y'went and grew up on me too fast."
"Blame motherhood. And being kidnapped and tortured and...yeah. That. But...Llew, listen to me. You are wonderful as you are. You're my cousin. I love you so much. You don't -need- a woman on your arm to be perfect to me."
"I know," he says gently. "I'm just tired of always bein' alone."
He'd actually -feel- a nudge in his side, as if she's woken up and is elbowing him. "You're not alone. You've got me. You've got friends. You've got family. You have a -home-, Llew."
His smile is small, but it is full of love. He presses his forehead carefully against her temple. "I love you, kid," he whispers.
She tries so hard to smile. SO hard. All that happens is that her chest rises and falls rhythmically. "I love you, too, Llew. Always will."
He kisses her temple and slowly draws away. "Get yer rest then, babygirl. So when I get back you're strong and can give me a hug for real, alright?"
She's suddenly remembered how tired she is and is fading fast. "I will. Will do. Llew...try to wake up soon...l-love you..." And she's out like a light. Somewhere, Itzhal is doing -something-, but it's unclear what.
Wheaton draws back from Senkha's bed with a small sigh. He rises from his knees, but bends over her one last time, placing a kiss to her head. He lingers there a moment, stroking her hair, and then exits her room in silence.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Senkha & Oliver: February 26
Macglynn walks into the back room where his wife rests, letting the door shut partially behind him. He drops into the chair.
Sènkha is still lying silent and motionless, looking as peaceful as possible. She just barely twitches at the sound of Oliver dropping into the chair, but it's barely noticeable.
To Macglynn: Her voice is sleepy, groggy, like she is first thing in the morning. "Mmm...that you?"
Turín says: S'cuze me.
Turín dips his head, trudging to the back room.
Zeichi lifts her head and looks at Turin. "Don' do anythin' dumb!"
Turín shakes his head at Ziichi's comment, knocking on the door softly. "Mind if I come in?"
Macglynn leans faaaaar back in his chair, on the back two legs, so that he can push a window open. He almost falls, though, as Senkha talks at his brane. He looks at her, then quickly at the door. He rights himself.
Zeichi says: ...Olly's gonna slug 'im one'a these days, if'n e's on 'bout th'blade 'gain...
Macglynn says: ... Must ya?
Zeichi is looking towards the back room, eyebrows narrowed.
Turín says: Just wanted to apologize for being stupid and see if Senkha was getting any better.
To Macglynn: "...Oliver?"
Macglynn says: Only person y'gotta apologize ter fer bein' a idiot is yers- Senkha?
Macglynn looks at you.
Turín says: .. 'eh?
Zeichi cants her head, listening in like a nosy brat. She's going to be insufferable about people not fighting on the ship, after Salarous' change to the will.
Sènkha is just lying there, snoozing away. She probably doesn't appreciate visitors right now.
Macglynn gets up from his chair and is instantly at Senkha's bedside. Turin? Who's Turin? "Ah'm here. Senkha. Talk again." Oliver probably looks crazy.
To Macglynn: "...are you there? You sound like you're underwater."
Turín blinks, slowly closing the door and walking away. "Damn man's just as crazy as I am.." he mutters under his breath, making way back to the main cabin.
Macglynn kneels by her bedside and takes her hands, expression hopeful.
Macglynn whispers: "Well, we're above it, hah. That really you?"
To Macglynn: There's the sense of a smile, though her body doesn't move at all. " 'course it's me. Feel really sleepy, though."
Macglynn whispers: "Y'been asleep fer a whole week na'. Yer gunna be lahk yer made 'a jelly when y'get outta this bed."
Macglynn stares at her. He mouths the words, Why don't you wake up?
Macglynn whispers: And his thoughts- Why don't you wake up?
To Macglynn: She seems distraught at this question. "She's not letting me...says my mind needs to heal, too. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't."
To Macglynn: For a moment, he'd get the image of a mind in ruins: so much destruction caused by years and years of abuse and neglect, none of it being given enough time to heal properly.
Macglynn lets her hands go and stands. He walks back over to the chair, pushing the window open before he sits. When he sits, he slouches.
Macglynn whispers: "Well, Ah- Ah miss you."
To Macglynn: The sense that she'd be crying, if she was capable of doing so. "I miss you too. I...what's on my legs?"
Macglynn strikes a match and lights his pipe, the open window carrying away the smoke. He looks at Senkha and frowns.
Macglynn whispers: "Braces," he says honestly. He can't really lie to her. "Y'was... awful messed-up."
To Macglynn: "...I didn't scare you, did I? I didn't mean to scare you."
Macglynn whispers: "... Ah was afraid, yes."
To Macglynn: A sense of reluctance. "I didn't expect to survive. It was a choice between doing what I did and them taking my mind by force. I thought--" She seems to have a need to justify her decision to go right ahead, give up, and die when everyone told her not to.
Macglynn whispers: "We told ya we was comin'. Ah admit, Ah got th' timin' a bit wrong, but... we did promise." A pause. "Y'saved Dizzy."
To Macglynn: "I know. I know you did. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I just...I did?" Somehow, this information doesn't seem to make her as happy as it should. "...is she going to leave again?"
Macglynn whispers: "Ah'm not sure at this point if y'want that or not."
To Macglynn: "I'm afraid of her, Oliver."
Macglynn whispers: "Are you afraid 'a her, or afraid 'a what she brings t' us?"
To Macglynn: "Afraid of losing her. Afraid of what she brings to us. It's not her fault, I know, but...Light, Oliver, four times in as many months." She seems to withdraw some, clearly ashamed of herself. "...I'm afraid that if I love her too much, she'll leave again."
Macglynn whispers: "It'd happen regardless. But Ah dunno what t' say. She feels as much guilt's you'd expect outta this." I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. Light, I don't want to talk about this.
To Macglynn: "I don't want her to feel guilt. I just...I don't want to-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We won't talk about this. I'm sorry." I don't want to keep losing her. I can't take it happening again and again. I'm not strong enough.
Macglynn whispers: "No. No no no- we need t' talk about... fine. We'll talk about it when yer awake."
To Macglynn: So much confusion. Eventually, she just says, again, "I miss you."
Macglynn whispers: My fault for forcing her into this anyway, fuck's sake, she's too young- no, not thinking about that eith- "Come back t' me soon."
To Macglynn: It was my choice, neither of us had any idea. "I will. I will try. Do...where are we? It seems noisy."
Macglynn whispers: His thoughts are blocked. She's weak enough that she can't pry. "Yeah, don't kill me, we're on th' boat."
To Macglynn: She doesn't pry; more because she knows he doesn't like it than because she can't. And she's tired. But amused. "Should've figured. Have people been leaving me alone? I haven't been under any orgies, have I?"
Macglynn whispers: "Ah, uh... haven't... been in here at all tahms." He sounds almost embarrassed to admit this. "So Light, Ah hope not. Mostly jus' Turin an' some elf squirt with crayon pictures buggin' me."
To Macglynn: A sudden sense of dread. "...we're not adopting that, too, are we?" Senkha apparently has this mental image of Oliver collecting children like people collect Pokemon cards.
Macglynn whispers: She can probably -sense- that he's staring at her. Staring HOLES into her.
To Macglynn: If it's possible for someone to shrink back mentally, Senkha does so. "...sorry."
Macglynn whispers: "T' answer yer queshun, no, th' last thing Ah need is fer another child that turns out t'be a blood elf spy robot or somethin'. Ah'd lahk t'make sure this one we a'ready got kin take care 'a itself anyways."
To Macglynn: Despite herself, she's amused by this. "That'd be good, wouldn't it? Is she alright? I mean...she's not hurt or scared, is she?"
Macglynn whispers: "She's mostly worried about you. An' Ah think she thinks Ah'm angry at 'er so she's avoidin' me. Ah'm jus' givin' 'er space."
To Macglynn: Please don't hate me for not wanting to see her. "She probably needs it. Light, I hope that I won't have a lot of people coming and lining up to see me (if) when I wake up."
Macglynn whispers: Oliver seems torn on even addressing this at all. He knows why she doesn't want to see her. But he knows Dizzy's feelings on the matter. And he just wants everybody to be happy, dammit. He opts to not address it. "Ah'll boot 'em out th' door."
To Macglynn: I just don't know if I can be who she needs me to be when I wake up. I'm so afraid of waking up. But she still smiles inwardly. "I appreciate that. Is everyone alright? Dad, Llew...?"
Macglynn whispers: "We're all fahn. More'r less. Llew an' Nialos 'a got some more features in common now, but..."
To Macglynn: "...Llew didn't die, did he?!"
Macglynn whispers: "Features, not livin' status. Lost 'imself an eye, though knowin' him, 'e'll jus' use it as a way t' impress womenfolk."
To Macglynn: SO much relief. "Oh thank the Light. I mean, not that he lost an eye, just that he's not dead." After a moment's hesitation, "Did they save Strahm, too?"
Macglynn whispers: "... Not really, no."
To Macglynn: "I didn't expect they would. Did they at least lay him to rest?"
Macglynn whispers: "Ah ain't rightly sure. Ah think they's still holdin' out on savin' his soul. Or they may 'a killed him by na'." All I know is that if he's been dead this long and somehow comes back, I am going to- (his thoughts cloud again)
To Macglynn: If she could, she'd be shaking her head. "Unless they got that snake out of him, there's no saving his soul anymore. The Apophan trapped it in one of his needles. Like Llew's memories."
Macglynn whispers: "... needles?"
To Macglynn: "He keeps needles on him. He offered one to Her in exchange for serving him. Said that they had Llew's memories. And then he used another one on Strahm while I watched. White stuff came out of his head."
Macglynn cringes visibly. Not that she'd see it.
Macglynn whispers: "... An' he keeps all these things? As in, they's all in tact somewhere?"
To Macglynn: "As far as I know. I didn't really get much of a chance to check on them daily." She sounds more amused by this than sarcastic. Whistling in the dark.
Macglynn whispers: "... Ah wonder if Maryus knows about these. Light, what else may 'e be keepin'? Ha' many souls y'think is trapped?" Clearly, someone with a vampiric runeblade is exactly the person to be worried about trapped souls.
To Macglynn: "I don't know. His axe imbibes power, though...some Blood Elf came at him with some glowy bottle, like Marius' bottle of Sunwell water, and tried to attack him with it. His axe ate it." Light, I should've told them all of this before they came, what if they'd died because I didn't say anything?
Macglynn whispers: (His thoughts are still clouded. Whatever thoughts he has on what she's thinking, he apparently doesn't find them necessary to share.) "When yer feelin' too tired t' talk, Ah may let 'im know these things."
To Macglynn: "I'm sorry I'm so tired. I'm sorry this is taking so long. I miss you so much." Please don't be sad for me. Please don't hate me. I wish you could be here with me.
Macglynn glances up at Salarous, though says nothing. He offers a smile. When he leaves, he looks back at Senkha.
Macglynn says out loud, probably looking like a crazy person, "Ah don't hate you. Shut up an' rest." He laughs quietly.
To Macglynn: "...I can't hear you well enough when you speak. Sounds like you're years away."
Sènkha is, to all intents and purposes, shut up and resting.
Macglynn whispers: "... Ah said Ah don't hate you, an' shut up an' rest."
To Macglynn: "Oh. I'm sorry." After a moment's nervousness and hesitation. "...will you hold me?"
Macglynn rests his pipe on the wooden stand beside the chair and rises to walk to her bedside. He sits next to her, causing the bed to sink with his weight.
Macglynn whispers: "Yeah."
Senkha's leg braces screech as the bed moves under her; she gives no indication of waking, even at the racket.
To Macglynn: Sleepily. "I can feel it when you do, you know. I can feel...Marius was in here, wasn't he? Is he okay?"
Macglynn holds her hands in his own again. Squeezes.
Macglynn whispers: "He's... Y'know what, jus' assume ever'body lost an eye."
To Macglynn: The sense of a giggle. "I should lose one, too, so I can be fashionable."
Sènkha is still lying silent and motionless, looking as peaceful as possible. She just barely twitches at the sound of Oliver dropping into the chair, but it's barely noticeable.
To Macglynn: Her voice is sleepy, groggy, like she is first thing in the morning. "Mmm...that you?"
Turín says: S'cuze me.
Turín dips his head, trudging to the back room.
Zeichi lifts her head and looks at Turin. "Don' do anythin' dumb!"
Turín shakes his head at Ziichi's comment, knocking on the door softly. "Mind if I come in?"
Macglynn leans faaaaar back in his chair, on the back two legs, so that he can push a window open. He almost falls, though, as Senkha talks at his brane. He looks at her, then quickly at the door. He rights himself.
Zeichi says: ...Olly's gonna slug 'im one'a these days, if'n e's on 'bout th'blade 'gain...
Macglynn says: ... Must ya?
Zeichi is looking towards the back room, eyebrows narrowed.
Turín says: Just wanted to apologize for being stupid and see if Senkha was getting any better.
To Macglynn: "...Oliver?"
Macglynn says: Only person y'gotta apologize ter fer bein' a idiot is yers- Senkha?
Macglynn looks at you.
Turín says: .. 'eh?
Zeichi cants her head, listening in like a nosy brat. She's going to be insufferable about people not fighting on the ship, after Salarous' change to the will.
Sènkha is just lying there, snoozing away. She probably doesn't appreciate visitors right now.
Macglynn gets up from his chair and is instantly at Senkha's bedside. Turin? Who's Turin? "Ah'm here. Senkha. Talk again." Oliver probably looks crazy.
To Macglynn: "...are you there? You sound like you're underwater."
Turín blinks, slowly closing the door and walking away. "Damn man's just as crazy as I am.." he mutters under his breath, making way back to the main cabin.
Macglynn kneels by her bedside and takes her hands, expression hopeful.
Macglynn whispers: "Well, we're above it, hah. That really you?"
To Macglynn: There's the sense of a smile, though her body doesn't move at all. " 'course it's me. Feel really sleepy, though."
Macglynn whispers: "Y'been asleep fer a whole week na'. Yer gunna be lahk yer made 'a jelly when y'get outta this bed."
Macglynn stares at her. He mouths the words, Why don't you wake up?
Macglynn whispers: And his thoughts- Why don't you wake up?
To Macglynn: She seems distraught at this question. "She's not letting me...says my mind needs to heal, too. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't."
To Macglynn: For a moment, he'd get the image of a mind in ruins: so much destruction caused by years and years of abuse and neglect, none of it being given enough time to heal properly.
Macglynn lets her hands go and stands. He walks back over to the chair, pushing the window open before he sits. When he sits, he slouches.
Macglynn whispers: "Well, Ah- Ah miss you."
To Macglynn: The sense that she'd be crying, if she was capable of doing so. "I miss you too. I...what's on my legs?"
Macglynn strikes a match and lights his pipe, the open window carrying away the smoke. He looks at Senkha and frowns.
Macglynn whispers: "Braces," he says honestly. He can't really lie to her. "Y'was... awful messed-up."
To Macglynn: "...I didn't scare you, did I? I didn't mean to scare you."
Macglynn whispers: "... Ah was afraid, yes."
To Macglynn: A sense of reluctance. "I didn't expect to survive. It was a choice between doing what I did and them taking my mind by force. I thought--" She seems to have a need to justify her decision to go right ahead, give up, and die when everyone told her not to.
Macglynn whispers: "We told ya we was comin'. Ah admit, Ah got th' timin' a bit wrong, but... we did promise." A pause. "Y'saved Dizzy."
To Macglynn: "I know. I know you did. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I just...I did?" Somehow, this information doesn't seem to make her as happy as it should. "...is she going to leave again?"
Macglynn whispers: "Ah'm not sure at this point if y'want that or not."
To Macglynn: "I'm afraid of her, Oliver."
Macglynn whispers: "Are you afraid 'a her, or afraid 'a what she brings t' us?"
To Macglynn: "Afraid of losing her. Afraid of what she brings to us. It's not her fault, I know, but...Light, Oliver, four times in as many months." She seems to withdraw some, clearly ashamed of herself. "...I'm afraid that if I love her too much, she'll leave again."
Macglynn whispers: "It'd happen regardless. But Ah dunno what t' say. She feels as much guilt's you'd expect outta this." I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. Light, I don't want to talk about this.
To Macglynn: "I don't want her to feel guilt. I just...I don't want to-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We won't talk about this. I'm sorry." I don't want to keep losing her. I can't take it happening again and again. I'm not strong enough.
Macglynn whispers: "No. No no no- we need t' talk about... fine. We'll talk about it when yer awake."
To Macglynn: So much confusion. Eventually, she just says, again, "I miss you."
Macglynn whispers: My fault for forcing her into this anyway, fuck's sake, she's too young- no, not thinking about that eith- "Come back t' me soon."
To Macglynn: It was my choice, neither of us had any idea. "I will. I will try. Do...where are we? It seems noisy."
Macglynn whispers: His thoughts are blocked. She's weak enough that she can't pry. "Yeah, don't kill me, we're on th' boat."
To Macglynn: She doesn't pry; more because she knows he doesn't like it than because she can't. And she's tired. But amused. "Should've figured. Have people been leaving me alone? I haven't been under any orgies, have I?"
Macglynn whispers: "Ah, uh... haven't... been in here at all tahms." He sounds almost embarrassed to admit this. "So Light, Ah hope not. Mostly jus' Turin an' some elf squirt with crayon pictures buggin' me."
To Macglynn: A sudden sense of dread. "...we're not adopting that, too, are we?" Senkha apparently has this mental image of Oliver collecting children like people collect Pokemon cards.
Macglynn whispers: She can probably -sense- that he's staring at her. Staring HOLES into her.
To Macglynn: If it's possible for someone to shrink back mentally, Senkha does so. "...sorry."
Macglynn whispers: "T' answer yer queshun, no, th' last thing Ah need is fer another child that turns out t'be a blood elf spy robot or somethin'. Ah'd lahk t'make sure this one we a'ready got kin take care 'a itself anyways."
To Macglynn: Despite herself, she's amused by this. "That'd be good, wouldn't it? Is she alright? I mean...she's not hurt or scared, is she?"
Macglynn whispers: "She's mostly worried about you. An' Ah think she thinks Ah'm angry at 'er so she's avoidin' me. Ah'm jus' givin' 'er space."
To Macglynn: Please don't hate me for not wanting to see her. "She probably needs it. Light, I hope that I won't have a lot of people coming and lining up to see me (if) when I wake up."
Macglynn whispers: Oliver seems torn on even addressing this at all. He knows why she doesn't want to see her. But he knows Dizzy's feelings on the matter. And he just wants everybody to be happy, dammit. He opts to not address it. "Ah'll boot 'em out th' door."
To Macglynn: I just don't know if I can be who she needs me to be when I wake up. I'm so afraid of waking up. But she still smiles inwardly. "I appreciate that. Is everyone alright? Dad, Llew...?"
Macglynn whispers: "We're all fahn. More'r less. Llew an' Nialos 'a got some more features in common now, but..."
To Macglynn: "...Llew didn't die, did he?!"
Macglynn whispers: "Features, not livin' status. Lost 'imself an eye, though knowin' him, 'e'll jus' use it as a way t' impress womenfolk."
To Macglynn: SO much relief. "Oh thank the Light. I mean, not that he lost an eye, just that he's not dead." After a moment's hesitation, "Did they save Strahm, too?"
Macglynn whispers: "... Not really, no."
To Macglynn: "I didn't expect they would. Did they at least lay him to rest?"
Macglynn whispers: "Ah ain't rightly sure. Ah think they's still holdin' out on savin' his soul. Or they may 'a killed him by na'." All I know is that if he's been dead this long and somehow comes back, I am going to- (his thoughts cloud again)
To Macglynn: If she could, she'd be shaking her head. "Unless they got that snake out of him, there's no saving his soul anymore. The Apophan trapped it in one of his needles. Like Llew's memories."
Macglynn whispers: "... needles?"
To Macglynn: "He keeps needles on him. He offered one to Her in exchange for serving him. Said that they had Llew's memories. And then he used another one on Strahm while I watched. White stuff came out of his head."
Macglynn cringes visibly. Not that she'd see it.
Macglynn whispers: "... An' he keeps all these things? As in, they's all in tact somewhere?"
To Macglynn: "As far as I know. I didn't really get much of a chance to check on them daily." She sounds more amused by this than sarcastic. Whistling in the dark.
Macglynn whispers: "... Ah wonder if Maryus knows about these. Light, what else may 'e be keepin'? Ha' many souls y'think is trapped?" Clearly, someone with a vampiric runeblade is exactly the person to be worried about trapped souls.
To Macglynn: "I don't know. His axe imbibes power, though...some Blood Elf came at him with some glowy bottle, like Marius' bottle of Sunwell water, and tried to attack him with it. His axe ate it." Light, I should've told them all of this before they came, what if they'd died because I didn't say anything?
Macglynn whispers: (His thoughts are still clouded. Whatever thoughts he has on what she's thinking, he apparently doesn't find them necessary to share.) "When yer feelin' too tired t' talk, Ah may let 'im know these things."
To Macglynn: "I'm sorry I'm so tired. I'm sorry this is taking so long. I miss you so much." Please don't be sad for me. Please don't hate me. I wish you could be here with me.
Macglynn glances up at Salarous, though says nothing. He offers a smile. When he leaves, he looks back at Senkha.
Macglynn says out loud, probably looking like a crazy person, "Ah don't hate you. Shut up an' rest." He laughs quietly.
To Macglynn: "...I can't hear you well enough when you speak. Sounds like you're years away."
Sènkha is, to all intents and purposes, shut up and resting.
Macglynn whispers: "... Ah said Ah don't hate you, an' shut up an' rest."
To Macglynn: "Oh. I'm sorry." After a moment's nervousness and hesitation. "...will you hold me?"
Macglynn rests his pipe on the wooden stand beside the chair and rises to walk to her bedside. He sits next to her, causing the bed to sink with his weight.
Macglynn whispers: "Yeah."
Senkha's leg braces screech as the bed moves under her; she gives no indication of waking, even at the racket.
To Macglynn: Sleepily. "I can feel it when you do, you know. I can feel...Marius was in here, wasn't he? Is he okay?"
Macglynn holds her hands in his own again. Squeezes.
Macglynn whispers: "He's... Y'know what, jus' assume ever'body lost an eye."
To Macglynn: The sense of a giggle. "I should lose one, too, so I can be fashionable."
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Senkha!Imprint & Dizzy: February 19
Senkha 's imprint has been searching for a day now, never flagging or faltering or tiring, searching for any signs of Dizzy. Where she walks, Dizzy would hear the rustle of feathers, though Ariadine would hear a sound like knives scraping against each other.
Ariadine is still climbing out of the darkest recesses of her mind. The girl and the huge bear have been wandering for days. As the pair ascends through the darkness the sound of rustling wings grows louder. The starved looking bear growls suspiciously.
Senkha looks up at the sound of growling. "--Dizzy?"
Ariadine perks at the familiar voice, "Momma?" her voice is hoarse from lack of use. The girl's grip on the bear's fur tightens. Is it another memory replaying? Or is it real?
Ariadine 's voice gains a hysterical tinge, "Momma?!" She sounds so real. Matka remains silent, and lets out a tired and rattled sigh. "Momma?!" She jumps off of the bear's shoulders.
Senkha continues running until she can see Dizzy, wings rustling uselessly behind her. Why isn't she flying? Who knows? She rushes at Dizzy, arms open. "Baby, Monkey, it's me, I'm here now. Everything's going to be alright. It's okay, baby, I'm here."
Ariadine buries her face into her mother's chest and wraps her arms around her as tightly as possible, and finally after a month the girl bursts into tears.
Senkha presses her lips against Dizzy's head again and again, holding her tightly and letting her cry. As she does this, strength flows from her into the Guardian and Dizzy as well. "I'm here. We're going home, baby. You're going home."
Ariadine 's shuddering slows as the reassuring strength returns to her. Slowly, she looks up at her mother. "'m tryin' real hard t'be strong like I promised. I promise."
Senkha smiles down at Dizzy, brushing her hair back from her face and wiping away the last stray tears. "You've done perfectly. I'm so proud of you, Dizzy. You hung on, even though you must've been very afraid. I'm so sorry I couldn't come sooner."
Ariadine looks up at her hopefully, "You can get me out of here? We can leave? I wanna get out so bad." Matka grunts crossly at this, "It's never that simple." she growls.
Senkha sighs quietly and shakes her head. "It's not that simple, no. Dizzy, before you were born, your birth mother did horrible things to you. She made your mind--and soul--split in two. We need to find a way to put you back together again."
Ariadine looks back to the bear and then up to Senkha again. She looks crestfallen, "Is it real easy? Please- I can't be in here any longer. I can't. 's dark an' quiet an' please jus' don't make me stay any longer."
Senkha smiles at Dizzy, another wave of strength coursing through her. "We'll find a way to make it easier, your Guardian and I." She turns from Dizzy for a moment and bows deeply and respectfully to the great bear.
The bear grunts again, "At least this one knows what she is dealing with." Her dark red eyes flicker dully, "Perhaps you could be of use. I don't think I can do much since the other girl nearly killed me." She roars the last part furiously.
Matka breaks down into coughing hoarsely, her bony shoulders poke from her hide as she hunches over.
Senkha lets go of Dizzy for a moment and walks over to the great bear; only then can her size be really seen, and she's enormous. She kneels and places a hand on the creature's head, wrapping it in her wings. "I think I can help, if you will let me."
Matka looks up at Senkha dejectedly. "Do I have reason to hope? My own host has reduced me to a pathetic mess. I'm dying. All I want to do is fix this before I fade away." The bear's gaze flickers to Dizzy, "She doesn't deserve any of this."
Senkha rests her head against Matka's, strength flowing from her into the Guardian. "I will help you, and when we have succeeded, I will merge with you as Dizzy will merge with Ariadine. I will not let you fade away, not when you have kept my daughter safe."
Matka blinks slowly, she definitely isn't a normal guardian. The bear speaks of the girl in a more motherly tone than with any spite. "... Thank you." Dizzy watches the pair silently. Whether she could hear them or not is a mystery.
Senkha 's touch on the creature's brow is gentle, but firm. "Of course." She turns back to Dizzy with a smile. "Are you ready, Monkey?"
Ariadine perks, "Yes!" She scrambles over to the pair. She jumps around the two, "I'm ready! I'm ready! Ready!"
Senkha smiles and takes Dizzy's hand; the other hand remains on Matka's forehead, steadyingly, strength and energy still flowing into the creature. "Then let's go. It's your Daddy's birthday today, you know. What a great present this will be."
Ariadine grins, "'s a lot of cupcakes an' candles on 'em. He must be a hundred years old now."
Senkha grins and ruffles Dizzy's hair. "Not -quite- that many, but close enough. Your granddad's here, too...just wait 'till you meet him."
Ariadine smiles, "I can't wait!" She looks up at Matka, who just grunts crossly and begins to channel energy with Senkha.
Ariadine is still climbing out of the darkest recesses of her mind. The girl and the huge bear have been wandering for days. As the pair ascends through the darkness the sound of rustling wings grows louder. The starved looking bear growls suspiciously.
Senkha looks up at the sound of growling. "--Dizzy?"
Ariadine perks at the familiar voice, "Momma?" her voice is hoarse from lack of use. The girl's grip on the bear's fur tightens. Is it another memory replaying? Or is it real?
Ariadine 's voice gains a hysterical tinge, "Momma?!" She sounds so real. Matka remains silent, and lets out a tired and rattled sigh. "Momma?!" She jumps off of the bear's shoulders.
Senkha continues running until she can see Dizzy, wings rustling uselessly behind her. Why isn't she flying? Who knows? She rushes at Dizzy, arms open. "Baby, Monkey, it's me, I'm here now. Everything's going to be alright. It's okay, baby, I'm here."
Ariadine buries her face into her mother's chest and wraps her arms around her as tightly as possible, and finally after a month the girl bursts into tears.
Senkha presses her lips against Dizzy's head again and again, holding her tightly and letting her cry. As she does this, strength flows from her into the Guardian and Dizzy as well. "I'm here. We're going home, baby. You're going home."
Ariadine 's shuddering slows as the reassuring strength returns to her. Slowly, she looks up at her mother. "'m tryin' real hard t'be strong like I promised. I promise."
Senkha smiles down at Dizzy, brushing her hair back from her face and wiping away the last stray tears. "You've done perfectly. I'm so proud of you, Dizzy. You hung on, even though you must've been very afraid. I'm so sorry I couldn't come sooner."
Ariadine looks up at her hopefully, "You can get me out of here? We can leave? I wanna get out so bad." Matka grunts crossly at this, "It's never that simple." she growls.
Senkha sighs quietly and shakes her head. "It's not that simple, no. Dizzy, before you were born, your birth mother did horrible things to you. She made your mind--and soul--split in two. We need to find a way to put you back together again."
Ariadine looks back to the bear and then up to Senkha again. She looks crestfallen, "Is it real easy? Please- I can't be in here any longer. I can't. 's dark an' quiet an' please jus' don't make me stay any longer."
Senkha smiles at Dizzy, another wave of strength coursing through her. "We'll find a way to make it easier, your Guardian and I." She turns from Dizzy for a moment and bows deeply and respectfully to the great bear.
The bear grunts again, "At least this one knows what she is dealing with." Her dark red eyes flicker dully, "Perhaps you could be of use. I don't think I can do much since the other girl nearly killed me." She roars the last part furiously.
Matka breaks down into coughing hoarsely, her bony shoulders poke from her hide as she hunches over.
Senkha lets go of Dizzy for a moment and walks over to the great bear; only then can her size be really seen, and she's enormous. She kneels and places a hand on the creature's head, wrapping it in her wings. "I think I can help, if you will let me."
Matka looks up at Senkha dejectedly. "Do I have reason to hope? My own host has reduced me to a pathetic mess. I'm dying. All I want to do is fix this before I fade away." The bear's gaze flickers to Dizzy, "She doesn't deserve any of this."
Senkha rests her head against Matka's, strength flowing from her into the Guardian. "I will help you, and when we have succeeded, I will merge with you as Dizzy will merge with Ariadine. I will not let you fade away, not when you have kept my daughter safe."
Matka blinks slowly, she definitely isn't a normal guardian. The bear speaks of the girl in a more motherly tone than with any spite. "... Thank you." Dizzy watches the pair silently. Whether she could hear them or not is a mystery.
Senkha 's touch on the creature's brow is gentle, but firm. "Of course." She turns back to Dizzy with a smile. "Are you ready, Monkey?"
Ariadine perks, "Yes!" She scrambles over to the pair. She jumps around the two, "I'm ready! I'm ready! Ready!"
Senkha smiles and takes Dizzy's hand; the other hand remains on Matka's forehead, steadyingly, strength and energy still flowing into the creature. "Then let's go. It's your Daddy's birthday today, you know. What a great present this will be."
Ariadine grins, "'s a lot of cupcakes an' candles on 'em. He must be a hundred years old now."
Senkha grins and ruffles Dizzy's hair. "Not -quite- that many, but close enough. Your granddad's here, too...just wait 'till you meet him."
Ariadine smiles, "I can't wait!" She looks up at Matka, who just grunts crossly and begins to channel energy with Senkha.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Entrance to AQ and Kamazlek Fight
MacGlynn's Strike Team finds themselves in the desert ruins of Ahn'Qiraj. A dragon roars in the distance as lightning flashes from the many obelisks.
Oliver looks over the group, and down at the crystal in his hand. He clenches it and stuffs it back in with his belongings, shaking his head. "We ready? No? Good, let's go."
Something appears barring the path ahead...
Khaelanna yells: Feel despair by entering here! The gates will close behind you and your sinful ways will be stripped from you one scream at a time by the rightful rulers of Azeroth!!
Oliver says: So, they a'ready know we're here.
Wilhiém nods. He adjusts the large, horned helm over his head. "Brilliant." Seals it.
Nialos says: Damn well figures.
Oliver says: If we ain't dead yet, Ah reckon that means we still stand a chance.
Liotuse shifts his lower jaw around, peering about the area as he slips the rifle out of its scabbard on his back, cocking the hammer.
Mayrù readjusts her satchel and chews at her lower lip, glancing around the group.
Oliver smiles. He clenches a hand to ease sudden shaking. "Well? Let's go."
Nialos says: Right behind you, Oliver.
Mayrù grips onto Dyna's hand, "We'll be alright!"
Dyna smiles faintly, and squeezes Mayru's hand. "- We'll get him back."
Mayrù says: -Scared?
Oliver looks up at the giant twitching legs. "Light."
Kamazlek yells: Ya come 'ere seekin'da impossible, little ones.Ya efforts be wort'less.. no one escapes owa land..
Llew eyes Kamazlek up and down.
Nialos says: ... Well, he's a charmer.
Oliver says: Jus' one guy?
Nialos says: Don't underestimate him, Oliver.
Oliver says: They must be full 'a themselves.
Liotuse brings the stock of his firearm to his shoulder, peering down the barrel. Finger on the trigger but not firing.
Nialos says: Old Gods, ancient power...
Llew says: Don't underestimate them, Oliver.
Dyna glances sidelong at Mayru, and offers a somewhat enigmatic smile, shaking her head. She turns to peer at the newcomer, and her eyes narrow.
Nialos says: They've got a lot of tricks up their sleeves.
Liotuse says: But this guy's got flesh himself.
Oliver draws his blade. "An' flesh cuts real easy."
Wilhiém winces. "Careful."
Mayrù rolls her shoulders lightly and glances ahead, hushidly replying to Dyna, "I am."
Wilhiém draws a massive shield in front of him, inching forwards. He adjusts a few valves on his armor.
Oliver straightens and steps forward. He's smiling. "Y'got somethin' 'a mine."
Oliver says: Ah ain't leavin' 'til Ah get it back.
Nialos draws his blade, smirking. "Mine too, y'know."
Llew moves in behind Oliver.
Oliver says: Then we'll say y'did a good job tryin' ta stop us.
Kamazlek yells: [Saron] Rruh Ehhga gh Ighrahf!
Kamazlek yells: I WILL RIP OUT YA SOULS!
Nialos says: ... The hell was th-- oh.
Wilhiém yells: None left.
Mayrù lifts her hands up, palms facing upwards, nearby shadows crawl toward her an wrap her body. "Here we go...."
Oliver grins.
Wilhiém says: ...I am -not- getting cooked again.
Liotuse exhales slowly, murmering a soft prayer to the Light. He'd need it.
Llew draws his blades, his voice low. "Shut him up."
Oliver waves his blade, almost mockingly. "Ah think my soul deserves a break, eh?"
Dyna 's features grow quiet, and her burly form- which is definitely wearing some pretty awesome heavy red armor and not flimsy brown chainmail- grows quite rigid. Her lips move in prayer.
Nialos says: Pfft. Never a break for us.
Oliver says: Come at us!
Kamazlek grinned, "With pleasure!"
Mayrù says: Just breathe.... stay aware.... we... we've got this!
Kamazlek set his arm aflame, charging at the group. "DIE!"
Nialos drops into a combat stance, readying himself. "'Course we d-"
Wilhiém drops to the side, covering himself with the shield. Too many times was he cooked. He's used to this!
Kamazlek 's arm rippled the flame surging through his arm at the Alliance.
Dyna 's lips twitch in a distinct frown, and she lunges to the side. Fire. Why was it always with the -fire-?
Oliver really shouldn't mock, especially when fire is involved and he is a zombie. Flame tears at him until he disperses it with a blast of cold.
Liotuse just drops to a knee, twisting his upper half away and trying to shield himself with his left arm.
Mayrù 's shadowed form splays outwords into a cloud of purple ribbons, the fire passes through her shadows and reforms.
Llew hit the sand, avoiding any coming fire.
Nialos stamps a foot down, conjuring a sickly green shield to absorb the flames.
Kamazlek grinned, "Dat's right, scatta and show me ya defensives, little ones."
Nialos immediately moves up on Kamazlek's left, his blade moving down in a vertical arc, runes blazing as an aura of plague encircled the weapon.
Llew comes up out of the sand in a fluid motion, drawing his throwing star from within his leathers and flinging it at Kama's exposed neck
Mayrù waves her hands out before her, ripplies of shadow press form from her hands, moving to their mark to fortify those who've been hurt.
Oliver 's flesh absorbs the shadow almost greedily. The burns fade some.
Wilhiém grins widely. Mmmm, a charge. The shadow-network responds greedily.
Dyna 's quiet gaze fixes intently on the troll, and her lips, still moving in prayer, fall still a moment as she calculates. Her jaw clenches, and she thrusts a palm forward, holy energy lancing out in a bright arc of righteous flame.
Wilhiém chuckles. He flicks open his gauntlet - dark shapes dart out towards the troll, paralytic-bugs. If connected and successful, the partial paralysis and nausea would set in within a minute or so after the bite.
Oliver does a frontal charge, a wild look beginning to develop in his eye. A plague leaks from his flesh, which would make a painful addition to his full-body slam against the troll.
Liotuse rises back into a standing position, picking his target even as his leather smolders. The large troll's right shoulder. His finger clutches the trigger, firing his rifle.
Kamazlek growled, he grasped the first blade and sent a ripple of shadow energy through it. Ducking his head as the ninja star grazed him, leaving a long cut. He roared. "Rise!" He lifted a minion from the sand in the way of the paralytic bug. A small breath before glancing towards the death knight charging at him, he growled. Being knocked back, fighting to regain his composure. He spat against the sand, and shrieked as the bullet lodged within his shoulder blade. "Annoying..little..pests!"
The monstrosity lunges at Llew, it's rusted weapons in it's hands. It then screams in a gut-wrenching voice. "DIEEEEEEE!!"
Ixxie shambles towards Nialos, intent on chewing his arm.
Troshkag charges to Wilhiem swinging with his pick.
An undead orc looks at Nialos, he may be dead but he still has his axe in hand as he raises it and swings it at Nialos.
A ghoul rises from the ground first a hand then a head soon a whole body the body moves cracking before reaching down grabbing a staff the head stuck sideways as the zombie using his staff casted spells resembling shadow bolts at Tavin
Llew staggers back as he is hit with surprising force. Weakened for a moment, he lets out a bellow of pain-fueled anger, and shoves his main blade at his attacker's head.
Nialos' grin turns into a snarl as the two minions assault him. Attempting to shake them off, he twirls around and moves to cleave the undead.
The shambling corpse stiffens as the blade pierces it's skull and exits through the back. It then goes limp, it's black tongue lolling to the side and it's arms drop it's rusted weapons.
Oliver snarls and turns to face his attacker. He brings the pommel of his blade into the construct's skull, shattering it.
The cleave slices his chest in half one side falling from the other and he dies back into the sand.
Ixxie splits in two. The top half will moans and claws at the ground, while the bottom half lays still.
Mumbling something in an unintelligable(sp) language the zombie is struck hard on the head before a lard crack is heard the zombie falling to a pile of bones
Kamazlek cackles. "I will keep ya from passin' fa da Glory of da Gods!"
Mayrù bursts another torrent of shadows toward her allies, aiming to soothe their wounds and dampen the pain they feel.
The final ghoul's body drops back into the ground leaving only a pickaxe.
Dyna spies the last undead; her heavily armored form emmits a glare of holy energy which surges faintly as she thrusts a palm forward, lunging after with the rather enormous sword she wields. Holy judgement gogogo! Filthy undead.
Kamazlek cackles, "Glad ya enjoyed mah little friends, now fa real powa!"
Kamazlek yells: Time ta face da rage.. of da Maw's fait'ful.. da Forgetten Drakkari.. Hhan..Ghaskurrf, Fah ehhga ar ah grih eh ah Ehhga! Burn in the void!
A mass of black flame consumes the lumbering troll.
Kamazlek cranks his fist back, he charged at Mac, hand extended, transfering his greatest.
Nialos staggers back, bathed in the shadowy flames. Without thinking, he conjures a second runic blade behind the Troll, which moves to swipe at his hind.
Oliver runs at Kamazlek in a rage. A green haze forms around him, empowering him further as the magical flames are absorbed. He raises his sword and brings it down in a downward arc, runes blazing. Plague erupts from his throat, coating anything in front of him.
Kamazlek blinks, he wails, the blade wrenching down into him. He growls, being covered in the spray of plague, coughing up blood madly. "Ga- GAH!" He scratches at his skin, blood erupting from his body as the blade nearly cut him clean.
Kamazlek winces, cackling. "S-So even Deat' can die..heh.."
Kamazlek yells: YA WILL N-NOT MAKE IT THROUGH! BRYAGH, DESTROY DEMS!
Oliver looks over the group, and down at the crystal in his hand. He clenches it and stuffs it back in with his belongings, shaking his head. "We ready? No? Good, let's go."
Something appears barring the path ahead...
Khaelanna yells: Feel despair by entering here! The gates will close behind you and your sinful ways will be stripped from you one scream at a time by the rightful rulers of Azeroth!!
Oliver says: So, they a'ready know we're here.
Wilhiém nods. He adjusts the large, horned helm over his head. "Brilliant." Seals it.
Nialos says: Damn well figures.
Oliver says: If we ain't dead yet, Ah reckon that means we still stand a chance.
Liotuse shifts his lower jaw around, peering about the area as he slips the rifle out of its scabbard on his back, cocking the hammer.
Mayrù readjusts her satchel and chews at her lower lip, glancing around the group.
Oliver smiles. He clenches a hand to ease sudden shaking. "Well? Let's go."
Nialos says: Right behind you, Oliver.
Mayrù grips onto Dyna's hand, "We'll be alright!"
Dyna smiles faintly, and squeezes Mayru's hand. "- We'll get him back."
Mayrù says: -Scared?
Oliver looks up at the giant twitching legs. "Light."
Kamazlek yells: Ya come 'ere seekin'da impossible, little ones.Ya efforts be wort'less.. no one escapes owa land..
Llew eyes Kamazlek up and down.
Nialos says: ... Well, he's a charmer.
Oliver says: Jus' one guy?
Nialos says: Don't underestimate him, Oliver.
Oliver says: They must be full 'a themselves.
Liotuse brings the stock of his firearm to his shoulder, peering down the barrel. Finger on the trigger but not firing.
Nialos says: Old Gods, ancient power...
Llew says: Don't underestimate them, Oliver.
Dyna glances sidelong at Mayru, and offers a somewhat enigmatic smile, shaking her head. She turns to peer at the newcomer, and her eyes narrow.
Nialos says: They've got a lot of tricks up their sleeves.
Liotuse says: But this guy's got flesh himself.
Oliver draws his blade. "An' flesh cuts real easy."
Wilhiém winces. "Careful."
Mayrù rolls her shoulders lightly and glances ahead, hushidly replying to Dyna, "I am."
Wilhiém draws a massive shield in front of him, inching forwards. He adjusts a few valves on his armor.
Oliver straightens and steps forward. He's smiling. "Y'got somethin' 'a mine."
Oliver says: Ah ain't leavin' 'til Ah get it back.
Nialos draws his blade, smirking. "Mine too, y'know."
Llew moves in behind Oliver.
Oliver says: Then we'll say y'did a good job tryin' ta stop us.
Kamazlek yells: [Saron] Rruh Ehhga gh Ighrahf!
Kamazlek yells: I WILL RIP OUT YA SOULS!
Nialos says: ... The hell was th-- oh.
Wilhiém yells: None left.
Mayrù lifts her hands up, palms facing upwards, nearby shadows crawl toward her an wrap her body. "Here we go...."
Oliver grins.
Wilhiém says: ...I am -not- getting cooked again.
Liotuse exhales slowly, murmering a soft prayer to the Light. He'd need it.
Llew draws his blades, his voice low. "Shut him up."
Oliver waves his blade, almost mockingly. "Ah think my soul deserves a break, eh?"
Dyna 's features grow quiet, and her burly form- which is definitely wearing some pretty awesome heavy red armor and not flimsy brown chainmail- grows quite rigid. Her lips move in prayer.
Nialos says: Pfft. Never a break for us.
Oliver says: Come at us!
Kamazlek grinned, "With pleasure!"
Mayrù says: Just breathe.... stay aware.... we... we've got this!
Kamazlek set his arm aflame, charging at the group. "DIE!"
Nialos drops into a combat stance, readying himself. "'Course we d-"
Wilhiém drops to the side, covering himself with the shield. Too many times was he cooked. He's used to this!
Kamazlek 's arm rippled the flame surging through his arm at the Alliance.
Dyna 's lips twitch in a distinct frown, and she lunges to the side. Fire. Why was it always with the -fire-?
Oliver really shouldn't mock, especially when fire is involved and he is a zombie. Flame tears at him until he disperses it with a blast of cold.
Liotuse just drops to a knee, twisting his upper half away and trying to shield himself with his left arm.
Mayrù 's shadowed form splays outwords into a cloud of purple ribbons, the fire passes through her shadows and reforms.
Llew hit the sand, avoiding any coming fire.
Nialos stamps a foot down, conjuring a sickly green shield to absorb the flames.
Kamazlek grinned, "Dat's right, scatta and show me ya defensives, little ones."
Nialos immediately moves up on Kamazlek's left, his blade moving down in a vertical arc, runes blazing as an aura of plague encircled the weapon.
Llew comes up out of the sand in a fluid motion, drawing his throwing star from within his leathers and flinging it at Kama's exposed neck
Mayrù waves her hands out before her, ripplies of shadow press form from her hands, moving to their mark to fortify those who've been hurt.
Oliver 's flesh absorbs the shadow almost greedily. The burns fade some.
Wilhiém grins widely. Mmmm, a charge. The shadow-network responds greedily.
Dyna 's quiet gaze fixes intently on the troll, and her lips, still moving in prayer, fall still a moment as she calculates. Her jaw clenches, and she thrusts a palm forward, holy energy lancing out in a bright arc of righteous flame.
Wilhiém chuckles. He flicks open his gauntlet - dark shapes dart out towards the troll, paralytic-bugs. If connected and successful, the partial paralysis and nausea would set in within a minute or so after the bite.
Oliver does a frontal charge, a wild look beginning to develop in his eye. A plague leaks from his flesh, which would make a painful addition to his full-body slam against the troll.
Liotuse rises back into a standing position, picking his target even as his leather smolders. The large troll's right shoulder. His finger clutches the trigger, firing his rifle.
Kamazlek growled, he grasped the first blade and sent a ripple of shadow energy through it. Ducking his head as the ninja star grazed him, leaving a long cut. He roared. "Rise!" He lifted a minion from the sand in the way of the paralytic bug. A small breath before glancing towards the death knight charging at him, he growled. Being knocked back, fighting to regain his composure. He spat against the sand, and shrieked as the bullet lodged within his shoulder blade. "Annoying..little..pests!"
The monstrosity lunges at Llew, it's rusted weapons in it's hands. It then screams in a gut-wrenching voice. "DIEEEEEEE!!"
Ixxie shambles towards Nialos, intent on chewing his arm.
Troshkag charges to Wilhiem swinging with his pick.
An undead orc looks at Nialos, he may be dead but he still has his axe in hand as he raises it and swings it at Nialos.
A ghoul rises from the ground first a hand then a head soon a whole body the body moves cracking before reaching down grabbing a staff the head stuck sideways as the zombie using his staff casted spells resembling shadow bolts at Tavin
Llew staggers back as he is hit with surprising force. Weakened for a moment, he lets out a bellow of pain-fueled anger, and shoves his main blade at his attacker's head.
Nialos' grin turns into a snarl as the two minions assault him. Attempting to shake them off, he twirls around and moves to cleave the undead.
The shambling corpse stiffens as the blade pierces it's skull and exits through the back. It then goes limp, it's black tongue lolling to the side and it's arms drop it's rusted weapons.
Oliver snarls and turns to face his attacker. He brings the pommel of his blade into the construct's skull, shattering it.
The cleave slices his chest in half one side falling from the other and he dies back into the sand.
Ixxie splits in two. The top half will moans and claws at the ground, while the bottom half lays still.
Mumbling something in an unintelligable(sp) language the zombie is struck hard on the head before a lard crack is heard the zombie falling to a pile of bones
Kamazlek cackles. "I will keep ya from passin' fa da Glory of da Gods!"
Mayrù bursts another torrent of shadows toward her allies, aiming to soothe their wounds and dampen the pain they feel.
The final ghoul's body drops back into the ground leaving only a pickaxe.
Dyna spies the last undead; her heavily armored form emmits a glare of holy energy which surges faintly as she thrusts a palm forward, lunging after with the rather enormous sword she wields. Holy judgement gogogo! Filthy undead.
Kamazlek cackles, "Glad ya enjoyed mah little friends, now fa real powa!"
Kamazlek yells: Time ta face da rage.. of da Maw's fait'ful.. da Forgetten Drakkari.. Hhan..Ghaskurrf, Fah ehhga ar ah grih eh ah Ehhga! Burn in the void!
A mass of black flame consumes the lumbering troll.
Kamazlek cranks his fist back, he charged at Mac, hand extended, transfering his greatest.
Nialos staggers back, bathed in the shadowy flames. Without thinking, he conjures a second runic blade behind the Troll, which moves to swipe at his hind.
Oliver runs at Kamazlek in a rage. A green haze forms around him, empowering him further as the magical flames are absorbed. He raises his sword and brings it down in a downward arc, runes blazing. Plague erupts from his throat, coating anything in front of him.
Kamazlek blinks, he wails, the blade wrenching down into him. He growls, being covered in the spray of plague, coughing up blood madly. "Ga- GAH!" He scratches at his skin, blood erupting from his body as the blade nearly cut him clean.
Kamazlek winces, cackling. "S-So even Deat' can die..heh.."
Kamazlek yells: YA WILL N-NOT MAKE IT THROUGH! BRYAGH, DESTROY DEMS!
Attackers vs. Bryagh
There is a distant roar...
Bryagh howls as his shadow passes overhead and into the next area, electricity flashes wildly off the obelisks.
Dyna glances back at Mayru, and moves to return to her side and grab her by the arm before hauling after Bryagh.
Oliver rips his blade from the troll in time to look up at the flying beast. A black blight oozes from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes don't seem quite right.
Mayrù drops her shadows, frowning as she glances around the group, "Do I need to patch anyone up?"
Oliver says: Let's -GO-.
Liotuse slowly reloads his rifle, wincing with the motions. He was nice and seared through the leather but made no mention. The rifle is slung onto his back, drawing his longswords.
Dyna says: - No time, love.
The massive purple dragon lets loose a rock-shattering roar, challenging any to come near the power crystal for the defensive matrix.
Wilhiém winces. He lifts a single hand, darts behind his armor. Shadow-ebergy flickers about as he flimsily patches himself up.
Oliver stops as the walls shake from the roar. He looks for the source.
Liotuse says: ...I suppose that's the next bastard.
Wilhiém says: Cute. Colorful.
Nialos 's blade flashes red, sending a sweeping aura of crimson through the Knight's body. "Hmf. Ugly as hell."
Oliver says: Who here's good with lizards.
Liotuse nods, managing a grin as he brings his longswords up. "And purple. I'm starting to kick myself for not bringing my Northrend crossbow."
Wilhiém cracks his neck. "I thought you liked purple."
Dyna's blue eyes narrow and she places herself firmly in front of Mayru, a low growl emanating from her throat.
Liotuse says: Nope. I do however. Like the idea of flanking and surrounding a dragon to divide its attention. Then taking it down.
Liotuse glances to the others, raising a brow.
Nialos says: Strike the underbelly.
Dyna says: Tia was right.
Dyna blinks, frowning, and pulls a small fortune card from her belt. She passes it silently back to Mayru. "- For luck."
Oliver says: Ah like both these ahdeas. Let's do both. Split up, distract its attention. Make it rear or take off, an' strike it.
Mayrù exhales slowly, laying a hand on Dyna's shoulder, "Do what you all must, I'll keep you all guarded." She takes the fortune card and nods, slipping it into her robes.
Liotuse says: It's patrolling. The moment we cross that threshold... it's on. What Nialos said. Underbelly.
Llew immediately moves off toward the dragon, fading from sight.
Mayrù reaches into the hem of her silk glove, pulling out a pendant on a silver chain. She set's in in Dyna's palm, "For luck."
Oliver says: Let's go.
Dyna glances at Mayru and offers a faint smile. She leans in and kisses the woman's forehead, then salutes and charges after.
Nialos says: ... I think I got it's attention.
Wilhiém shrugs. "I do too." He lets out a low growl, shield out, sword out, both basically pointy extensions of fists. Aims for the left wing.
Bryagh snarls.
Oliver runs around the dragon's side.
Liotuse scrapes his dual longswords against each other, grimacing. The thing has some -foul- breath.
Bryagh rears back and blasts flame in all directions.
Llew is ON FIRE.
Wilhiém is RIPPING AWAY AT THE WING.
Mayrù calls for shadows once more. gogoshadowform.
Bryagh lets out a rumbling snarl. Apophan's voice booms through the windstones floating around. "YOU WILL DIE... HERE"
Liotuse is -barely- able to roll underneath the torrent of flame, kicking up sand.
Dyna charges forward, her massive sword at the ready- and is stopped by a massive gout of flame. Shadow of a dragon? More like watch out for it's face. Her armor heats up red-hot.
Nialos dances around the flames, slowly but surely making his way towards the dragon's right side! He strikes at the wings with a simple swing.
Mayrù is guarded from the fire because Dyna's in front of her.
Llew is knocked out of stealth by the sudden burst of flame, but is luckily very close. However, burning, he stabs almost blindly at Bryagh's chest.
Bryagh howls in pain.
Mayrù reaches forward to touch Dyna's shoulder, shadows arm from her fingertips and toward the other injured by the flames, the magics am to quell the burns and cool the armor.
Bryagh snarls at Maryu for repairing his pretty fire.
Mayrù blinks several times as the dragon's gaze fixes on her. Her features draw blank. Oh noes.
Dyna quails a moment, the far too familiar reek of burned flesh emanating up through her heavy armor- but at the shadowy touch and the stilling of the burns, she shakes herself, and makes a crooked lunge forward, shouting something incoherently to regain the dargon's attention and unleashing a holy judgement straight at it's stupid ugly face.
Bryagh whimpers as his head shoots to the side from the blow
Wilhiém charges at the wing - and proceeds to hack and tear and climb, and basically make the thing -bleed- in the nastiest way possible. He's making his way to the neck - and throws out a hooked blade, to its base.
Bryagh lifts his wing, preventing a complete break, but his shoulder drops from the injury.
Liotuse doesn't even take a moment to collect himself, his feet slipping into the sand for support as he pushes off the ground and dives for -underneath- the left wing, jerking both his longswords up to try and score a hit into its underbelly.
Bryagh roars as he rears back, his black blood spewing over the attackers. The drake backs away snapping and slashing at the foes and bleeding profusely.
Bryagh gets a... glint in his eye.
The Dragon rears back and howls, dust left dormant for thousands of years rattles off the walls as he makes a break for it.
Wilhiém falls off with a womanly shriek.
Liotuse is knocked on his ass, eyes shutting with pain as he lets everyone know it. Swear after swear. It passes, or at least he tucks it into a corner he won't pay any mind for the next little while.
Nialos is blown back by the dusty shriek, colliding with the nearby wall with an 'oof!' "... Son of a bitch."
Oliver manages to remain on two feet, though lifts an arm to shield himself from the blast. He looks ahead.
Oliver says: Two ways t' go from 'ere.
Liotuse lets his head fall back a moment, taking a breather before he pushes himself to his feet and is sure to grab his blackened swords. A flick to remove the drake blood.
Nialos says: ...Damn it all.
Nialos says: I hate dragons.
Wilhiém pockets a long, leathery, blood-soaked strap of the dragon-webbing. Grins.
Liotuse rolls his shoulders back, taking in a fresh lungful of air. Or it's stale. And sandy.
Liotuse says: ...Well which one are we hitting first?
Liotuse glances between the two directions.
Oliver says: ... We need this t'be fast. We should split.
Llew looks to Oliver with a slight frown.
Nialos says: Huh. Sounds like a bad idea.
Nialos says: Let's do it.
Liotuse says: You sure dividing will conquer as much? There's a lot of 'what ifs' in that. And I know you want -...
Liotuse glances to Nialos. He shakes his head with a chuckle.
Oliver says: This is a'ready suicide. We seem t'be handlin' ourselves better'n Ah expected.
Wilhiém nods silently. "Time is of issue here, I... understand as much." He coughs into his hand. "Yep, my ribs are intact. I think."
Liotuse looks down at his charred leather suit.
Nialos says: Pfft. Daughter's on the line.
Oliver says: This'll be quicker if we cover more ground.
Oliver says: So.
Liotuse says: ...And in case they want to move prisoners on us. Alright. I see the merits.
Oliver says: We still have ways t'communicate.
Oliver looks at Mayru and Dyna. "Ah know th' two 'a you won't split. Wil an' Liotuse, y'should go with 'em.
Wilhiém wrinkles his nose. "...right."
Oliver points over yonder.
Oliver says: Go that way.
Liotuse furrows his brows a touch. "...You sure you don't want Mayru? Or can you guys patch yourselves up a bit?"
Nialos waves Liotuse off. "Eh. If it gets bad, I can manage some healing."
Oliver says: Nialos an' Ah kin keep up. Ah trust Llew not t'be lit on fire twice in one night.
Llew snorts. Grumbling. "You'd be surprised." He steps up.
Oliver says: Th' three 'a us'll be headed right.
Liotuse nods, looking over to Llew. Then down to himself. "I think he'll be luckier than me."
Wilhiém chuckles. "I can offer some patching for those burns. As someone that had to deal with this.. rather... frequently." He winces.
Liotuse lifts a boot, wiping off his longswords on the inside of his foot. "...It's horrible to say. But I hope this was the direction the fucking dragon went. We have one more than you guys."
Mayrù stands silently as the groups are decided. She pulls the fortune card Dyna had given her out and turns it over in her hand, emerald gaze watching over it distantly. She chews her lower lip and smiles as she exhales, "... We're doing well so far."
Oliver 's hand begins to shake again. His fist clenches quickly to stop it. "Ah think we're done waitin' around."
Llew grints his teeth, frowning deeply. And flings his dagger at that stupid snake.
Nialos taps his foot impatiently. "Let's get the show on the road."
Oliver says: Nobody hesitate t'call fer help. If we's able, we'll come runnin'.
Bryagh howls as his shadow passes overhead and into the next area, electricity flashes wildly off the obelisks.
Dyna glances back at Mayru, and moves to return to her side and grab her by the arm before hauling after Bryagh.
Oliver rips his blade from the troll in time to look up at the flying beast. A black blight oozes from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes don't seem quite right.
Mayrù drops her shadows, frowning as she glances around the group, "Do I need to patch anyone up?"
Oliver says: Let's -GO-.
Liotuse slowly reloads his rifle, wincing with the motions. He was nice and seared through the leather but made no mention. The rifle is slung onto his back, drawing his longswords.
Dyna says: - No time, love.
The massive purple dragon lets loose a rock-shattering roar, challenging any to come near the power crystal for the defensive matrix.
Wilhiém winces. He lifts a single hand, darts behind his armor. Shadow-ebergy flickers about as he flimsily patches himself up.
Oliver stops as the walls shake from the roar. He looks for the source.
Liotuse says: ...I suppose that's the next bastard.
Wilhiém says: Cute. Colorful.
Nialos 's blade flashes red, sending a sweeping aura of crimson through the Knight's body. "Hmf. Ugly as hell."
Oliver says: Who here's good with lizards.
Liotuse nods, managing a grin as he brings his longswords up. "And purple. I'm starting to kick myself for not bringing my Northrend crossbow."
Wilhiém cracks his neck. "I thought you liked purple."
Dyna's blue eyes narrow and she places herself firmly in front of Mayru, a low growl emanating from her throat.
Liotuse says: Nope. I do however. Like the idea of flanking and surrounding a dragon to divide its attention. Then taking it down.
Liotuse glances to the others, raising a brow.
Nialos says: Strike the underbelly.
Dyna says: Tia was right.
Dyna blinks, frowning, and pulls a small fortune card from her belt. She passes it silently back to Mayru. "- For luck."
Oliver says: Ah like both these ahdeas. Let's do both. Split up, distract its attention. Make it rear or take off, an' strike it.
Mayrù exhales slowly, laying a hand on Dyna's shoulder, "Do what you all must, I'll keep you all guarded." She takes the fortune card and nods, slipping it into her robes.
Liotuse says: It's patrolling. The moment we cross that threshold... it's on. What Nialos said. Underbelly.
Llew immediately moves off toward the dragon, fading from sight.
Mayrù reaches into the hem of her silk glove, pulling out a pendant on a silver chain. She set's in in Dyna's palm, "For luck."
Oliver says: Let's go.
Dyna glances at Mayru and offers a faint smile. She leans in and kisses the woman's forehead, then salutes and charges after.
Nialos says: ... I think I got it's attention.
Wilhiém shrugs. "I do too." He lets out a low growl, shield out, sword out, both basically pointy extensions of fists. Aims for the left wing.
Bryagh snarls.
Oliver runs around the dragon's side.
Liotuse scrapes his dual longswords against each other, grimacing. The thing has some -foul- breath.
Bryagh rears back and blasts flame in all directions.
Llew is ON FIRE.
Wilhiém is RIPPING AWAY AT THE WING.
Mayrù calls for shadows once more. gogoshadowform.
Bryagh lets out a rumbling snarl. Apophan's voice booms through the windstones floating around. "YOU WILL DIE... HERE"
Liotuse is -barely- able to roll underneath the torrent of flame, kicking up sand.
Dyna charges forward, her massive sword at the ready- and is stopped by a massive gout of flame. Shadow of a dragon? More like watch out for it's face. Her armor heats up red-hot.
Nialos dances around the flames, slowly but surely making his way towards the dragon's right side! He strikes at the wings with a simple swing.
Mayrù is guarded from the fire because Dyna's in front of her.
Llew is knocked out of stealth by the sudden burst of flame, but is luckily very close. However, burning, he stabs almost blindly at Bryagh's chest.
Bryagh howls in pain.
Mayrù reaches forward to touch Dyna's shoulder, shadows arm from her fingertips and toward the other injured by the flames, the magics am to quell the burns and cool the armor.
Bryagh snarls at Maryu for repairing his pretty fire.
Mayrù blinks several times as the dragon's gaze fixes on her. Her features draw blank. Oh noes.
Dyna quails a moment, the far too familiar reek of burned flesh emanating up through her heavy armor- but at the shadowy touch and the stilling of the burns, she shakes herself, and makes a crooked lunge forward, shouting something incoherently to regain the dargon's attention and unleashing a holy judgement straight at it's stupid ugly face.
Bryagh whimpers as his head shoots to the side from the blow
Wilhiém charges at the wing - and proceeds to hack and tear and climb, and basically make the thing -bleed- in the nastiest way possible. He's making his way to the neck - and throws out a hooked blade, to its base.
Bryagh lifts his wing, preventing a complete break, but his shoulder drops from the injury.
Liotuse doesn't even take a moment to collect himself, his feet slipping into the sand for support as he pushes off the ground and dives for -underneath- the left wing, jerking both his longswords up to try and score a hit into its underbelly.
Bryagh roars as he rears back, his black blood spewing over the attackers. The drake backs away snapping and slashing at the foes and bleeding profusely.
Bryagh gets a... glint in his eye.
The Dragon rears back and howls, dust left dormant for thousands of years rattles off the walls as he makes a break for it.
Wilhiém falls off with a womanly shriek.
Liotuse is knocked on his ass, eyes shutting with pain as he lets everyone know it. Swear after swear. It passes, or at least he tucks it into a corner he won't pay any mind for the next little while.
Nialos is blown back by the dusty shriek, colliding with the nearby wall with an 'oof!' "... Son of a bitch."
Oliver manages to remain on two feet, though lifts an arm to shield himself from the blast. He looks ahead.
Oliver says: Two ways t' go from 'ere.
Liotuse lets his head fall back a moment, taking a breather before he pushes himself to his feet and is sure to grab his blackened swords. A flick to remove the drake blood.
Nialos says: ...Damn it all.
Nialos says: I hate dragons.
Wilhiém pockets a long, leathery, blood-soaked strap of the dragon-webbing. Grins.
Liotuse rolls his shoulders back, taking in a fresh lungful of air. Or it's stale. And sandy.
Liotuse says: ...Well which one are we hitting first?
Liotuse glances between the two directions.
Oliver says: ... We need this t'be fast. We should split.
Llew looks to Oliver with a slight frown.
Nialos says: Huh. Sounds like a bad idea.
Nialos says: Let's do it.
Liotuse says: You sure dividing will conquer as much? There's a lot of 'what ifs' in that. And I know you want -...
Liotuse glances to Nialos. He shakes his head with a chuckle.
Oliver says: This is a'ready suicide. We seem t'be handlin' ourselves better'n Ah expected.
Wilhiém nods silently. "Time is of issue here, I... understand as much." He coughs into his hand. "Yep, my ribs are intact. I think."
Liotuse looks down at his charred leather suit.
Nialos says: Pfft. Daughter's on the line.
Oliver says: This'll be quicker if we cover more ground.
Oliver says: So.
Liotuse says: ...And in case they want to move prisoners on us. Alright. I see the merits.
Oliver says: We still have ways t'communicate.
Oliver looks at Mayru and Dyna. "Ah know th' two 'a you won't split. Wil an' Liotuse, y'should go with 'em.
Wilhiém wrinkles his nose. "...right."
Oliver points over yonder.
Oliver says: Go that way.
Liotuse furrows his brows a touch. "...You sure you don't want Mayru? Or can you guys patch yourselves up a bit?"
Nialos waves Liotuse off. "Eh. If it gets bad, I can manage some healing."
Oliver says: Nialos an' Ah kin keep up. Ah trust Llew not t'be lit on fire twice in one night.
Llew snorts. Grumbling. "You'd be surprised." He steps up.
Oliver says: Th' three 'a us'll be headed right.
Liotuse nods, looking over to Llew. Then down to himself. "I think he'll be luckier than me."
Wilhiém chuckles. "I can offer some patching for those burns. As someone that had to deal with this.. rather... frequently." He winces.
Liotuse lifts a boot, wiping off his longswords on the inside of his foot. "...It's horrible to say. But I hope this was the direction the fucking dragon went. We have one more than you guys."
Mayrù stands silently as the groups are decided. She pulls the fortune card Dyna had given her out and turns it over in her hand, emerald gaze watching over it distantly. She chews her lower lip and smiles as she exhales, "... We're doing well so far."
Oliver 's hand begins to shake again. His fist clenches quickly to stop it. "Ah think we're done waitin' around."
Llew grints his teeth, frowning deeply. And flings his dagger at that stupid snake.
Nialos taps his foot impatiently. "Let's get the show on the road."
Oliver says: Nobody hesitate t'call fer help. If we's able, we'll come runnin'.
Team White Sigil: Insect Wing
As they enter the area, the buzzing sound.... gets louder...
Liotuse looks behind him to Mayru and Dyna. There's a nod to them, then looks over to Oliver. "Light be with you three. And the same to you."
Oliver says: ... Light be with us all.
Wilhiém says: I hear bugs.
Liotuse says: You're in -Silithus-.
Mayrù wrinkles her nose, "B-bugs?"
Wilhiém says: And I -love- it.
Liotuse shakes his head.
Dyna blinks back at Mayru quietly.
Dyna says: You'll be fine, dear.
Liotuse spreads his hands wide. "This little valley looks inviting."
Apophan's voice booms over the Windstones, "Xia chk'rik ik i ki k!!!!"
Liotuse sighs. "Chittering too! Fantastic!"
Wilhiém grins widely. "...this is amazing."
The Hivemother lets loose an earsplitting shriek.
Liotuse grimaces and immediately brings his fists up over his ears.
Wilhiém fights back the urge to take notes and draws his sword instead.
Mayrù says: -amazing-?
Wilhiém says: Have you -seen- anything like this before?
Liotuse slogs his way through the water, spitting as he glances right. "There's a path."
Three eggs plop from the queen's, well... thing.
Wilhiém still fights back the urge to take notes.
The eggs hatch, from each emerges a tentacled, mutated trespasser. Apophan's voice echoes, "Behold. Your. FATE!"
Liotuse recoils a bit, shifting to the right and trying to find a more shallow part. There. At least he can sort of stand, raising his longswords. "Try us."
Liotuse glances up at the Silithid queen, then down to the mutations. "Why. You three are as ugly as your mother. Now that's impressive."
Insect A says: You shall be one of us soon... Very soon... So you should not say such things...
Liotuse fakes a loud gasp, glancing back to his three companions. "They respond pretty well. Maybe I can teach them the art of comebacks."
Wilhiém says: Shhh, shh, I already have self-esteem issues.
Insect A opens his mouth impossibly wide and let's a shrieking battle cry. He then jumps into the air and lands on top of Liotuse, weapon in hands.
Liotuse blinks at the creature's speed, trying to raise his weapons to deflect. His reaction was off and slow, crashing underneath the water with the mutated creature on him.
Insect A says: DIE! DIE!DIE!
Insect B stares with the white blank eyes the staff glowing as it aimed at Mayru casting a sinister curse of pain at the person.
Mayrù inhales sharply, hand gripping at her chest as the curse sinks into it's mark.
Insect C grabs his weapons in both hands charges at Willhiem, swinging his axe at his chest.
Wilhiém coughs, gurgling, letting out guttural swears as the axe lunges between the plates, no doubt breaking something important.
Mayrù shakes her head and arches her shadows out toward the injured, warding them and soothing their pain.
Liotuse -grapples- the monstrosity with his right arm, trying to jerk it around and reverse their positions so he's above it. Underneath the sick liquids they're immersed in, he lunges with the sword in his other hand to impale it.
Dyna growls and steps infront of Mayru protectively. She casts out her right hand, a golden celestial hammer flies forth aimed for Insect B's chest.
Insect B laughes as he snaps his staff to the right deflecting the hammer, "Infidel!"
The Hivemother lets out a shriek. Hivecall.
Insect A grabs Liotuse by his robes and pulls him forth, with a curved knife in his other hand.
Insect B slams the staff onto the water making a small tidal wave fly toward Mayru.
Mayrù lifts her arms in front of her face to try and block the rushing water. She sputters and coughs once it passes, gasping for air.
There's a lovely fresh spurt of red colour in the liquid as the knife slips into Lio, bypassing his tunic and the piece of metal beneath it.
Insect C raises his hand out of the water grabbing Willhiem's shouders bringing his blade in from behind stabbing him in the back.
Mayrù holds a hand over her throat, focusing on working past the pain she's feeling. Her other hand arcs to throw soothing shadows toward Liotuse.
Wilhiém growls. He turns, swings, bringing out the hooked sword and aiming -just- below the attacher's sternum, hooked up, aiming to gut it - in the nicest way possible.
Liotuse jerks himself back to remove the knife from his torso, finding his actions a bit easier without as much pain to deal with. He lets go of both his swords to reach out and grab the creature's neck, jerking to try and break whatever now passes as its neck.
A resounding crack is heard, and the creature goes limp. It now banks in the liquid, not stirring for a moment.
Dyna 's eye tics. She snarls and lunges at the thing that hurt Mayru, holy energy bursting from her weapon to smack the carapace- hard.
A massive proboscis descends from the Hivemother and into each of the remaining pets... She unshackles herself from the wall...
Insect B falls to the water,dead
The Queen drops down and hisses angrily at the intruders to her hive. However, lethargy has taken its toll.
The Queen spits acid in all directions. The poison splatters against the fluid, sending it flying.
The Queen's deathwail echoes across the desert... the Silithid on the outside battle would become enraged.
Liotuse manages to break the surface of the liquid, gasping for air as he gestures to the others to follow him, seeing the collapsed Hivemother.
Liotuse sets a hand to the open knife wound in the side of his torso, trying to wipe the crap away from the area. He doesn't want that infected, wiping at his eyes as well. "You... okay Mayru? Took some hits..."
Mayrù drops her levitation spell as she settled on the bank. She nods distantly and closes her eyes to regain her focus. "I'll... Be fine, let's press onwards."
Liotuse sheathes his swords, reaching back for his rifle to work hastily to clean the flintlock mechanism. "We've got to keep moving then. I think that might have taken longer... than it should've." It's clear he's trying to catch his breath.
Dyna 's lips remain thin, and she hovers guardedly close to Mayru, frowning. She doesn't say anything, but her jaw is clenched.
Wilhiém crawls out, coughing, spitting, swearing. He pulls off his helm and shakes his head about. He winces - hand darting behind his armor - and tugging the network shut once again.
Liotuse coughs and spits. He doesn't even want to question what he was just swimming in. "Thanks for the save by the way. May. Didn't see it but I did notice I didn't feel like I was just -stabbed-."
Wilhiém says: Liotuse. Get over here.
Liotuse stops.
Mayrù smiles weakly, "Of course. I can surpress the pain and keep you fighting. We'll fix wounds once we reach triage."
Wilhiém stretches out a hand. On it - a small bug, stinger extended. "Adrenaline shot. Bring up to neck. Twist head. Numbs pain, gives a boost."
Liotuse stretches up to his full height, shaking his head as he seems to zone out. Centering himself and taking a few seconds to stretch out his arms. "I'm fine. A stab isn't much and we've just started. Keep it for yourself."
Dyna 's jaw clenches as she casts a worried glance towards Tuse, and frowns faintly. She seems more interested in staring at her boots now.
Mayrù loops in arm with Dyna's and lean's her cheek on the woman's shoulder as they walk -- some small comfort.
Wilhiém winces. "Whatever you wish." He brings the insect to his own neck, the stinger goign in-out. Hisses, tosses it aside.
As the group nears, they could hear the pained roars of Bryagh.
Liotuse says: ...Company.
Wilhiém says: Familiar.
Liotuse says: It can't fly and it's wounded on the left side. Stay on that side. Abuse it's lack of mobility. Watch the head.
Apophan yells: You will go no closer, BLASPHEMING TRESSPASSERSSS!
Apophan yells: Flee, then, Acolyte.
Apophan slams his scythe to the ground, it burns into the rocks.
Wilhiém says: That.
Wilhiém says: Is a cow.
Apophan says: You've caused my beloved Bryagh much pain... and for that... you will die. You've slain the Hivemother... do you know how long it takes to GROW ONE?!
Liotuse says: A while. Mad bastard, aren't you? Maybe we'll help next time we visit if you hand us our people back.
Apophan says: No matter, I have a surprise for you...
Wilhiém taps his chin. "No, but I would be interested to find out."
Apophan says: An old friend...
Liotuse loads the rifle, cocking the hammer and slinging it onto his bac but instead draws his longswords.
Mayrù reaches out to grip limply at Dyna's wrist, ".... Oh light."
Wilhiém says: ...the penguin is not here, is it?
The broken, twisted and mutilated shell of Strahm steps forward. Lightweight bands of Elementium cover his chest and back.
Liotuse tosses a 'shut up for now' look over his shoulder at Wilhiem.
Stràhm approaches alongside the Apophan. Black sclera-colored eyes stare intently at the trespassers. A smoking rifle is held in both hands across his chest. A chest that is covered with plates of Elementium melded to his skin. "Yes, Sovereign."
Apophan says: Destroy these intruders... I tire of their pathetic mewlings.
Stràhm says: As you command.
Liotuse backpedals, murmering lowly to his group. Perhaps too low for Apophan or Strahm to hear. "Aim to incapacitate. Not kill."
Apophan looks at Strahm.
Wilhiém looks disappointed.
Apophan says: Aim to decapitate.
Wilhiém mimicks the cow with a hand-puppet.
Liotuse flashes Apophan a grin. You just had to catch that didn't you? Lio gives his longswords a whirl in each hand, already trying to spike his adrenaline.
Strahm aims his rifle ahead of him at the group.
Dyna just stares. Her expression does not appear to change, and her hand grips Mayru's, her features strangely flat. More holy energy bristles, forming a haze about her thick red armor.
Liotuse tries to pivot and dart to the left as he sees the end of the rifle his way. All he manages to do is relocate it to the left side of his midsection. His tunic and the metal within it stands no real chance, the round striking deep.
Mayrù 's hand jerks up as the bullet flies, enveloping it in shadows the lessen the damage it would do to it's target.
Apophan chuckles, "I think I will enjoy watching thiss..." he moves over to his other cultists.
Wilhiém winces and spits on the ground. "Fookin' cultists." He re-seals his helm and dashes out, spiked shield in front of him - towards Minion!Strahm.
Liotuse lets himself fall to the side. Laying down would be a bit more comfortable than standing with a bullet wound now. He slips the throwing knife out of his right boot, snapping his wrist to try and catch Strahm low in the leg.
Kamazlek cackles a little gnomish cackle. "Very amusing!"
Dyna releases Mayru and moves forward, bringing her large red blade up as she darts forward and slamming forward with holy judgement, blade glittering with Light.
Stràhm hardly makes a noise as he's impaled, cut, and stabbed with a flying projectile. Still, he stares with a high intensity within his black-clouded eyes at the group.
Strahm vanishes in a sudden crack of electricity. He appears here, then there, and seemingly everywhere at once. But when he finally remains still, both blades are held out, the rifle strapped to his back. ( AOE all roll )
Apophan snarls his flaming eyes widen in abject rage.
Mayrù moves closer to Liotuse, waving her hands forward to soothe his pain with more shadow energy!
Wilhiém throws the shield aside. He hisses, winces, then pulls off hsi gauntlet - bare hand darting for Strahm's throat. He would attempt a drain, simple shadow-sort - if successful, it would significantly weaken the poor... beaten... thing.
Liotuse dips his head in thanks to Mayru, struggling to get to his feet. He doesn't bother picking up his longswords, stumbling into a charge to break for Strahm's right and snap his left leg around in a strike to his kidney. Plating or not, he might be able to feel it.
Dyna's eyes briefly close as she lunges forward, closing the small distance between herself and the thing that used to be her husband. She doesn't hesitate- her sword plunges down for his collar, striking at the throat; holy energy sizzles as she infuses the strike with righteous vengeance.
Apophan says: My creation. Kill them.
Stràhm falters slightly, eyes lidding partially at the battering. The grip on his throat seems to drain him, and the kick to his metal-plated side may have done it, too. Or that oddly weak chop to the collar bone. His attention, however, abruptly and fully shifts to Wilhiem. One of his swords is raised up, and made to cut him vigorously across the chest.
Wilhiém hisses. The drain fills him, mending - the pain mostly negated. The sword slides between the plates, blood gushing out. He falls to his side, grasping, attempting to flimsily heal what he can.
The Door to the Watchers Terrace creaks open.
Apophan turns and his eyes widen... in horror.
Apophan roars with bestial vigor. So fierce!
Mayrù frowns sadly toward Strahm's desecrated body. Shadows swirl around her hand and she lobs a mind blast toward him, fully geared to just disable him.
Liotuse looks behind him to Mayru and Dyna. There's a nod to them, then looks over to Oliver. "Light be with you three. And the same to you."
Oliver says: ... Light be with us all.
Wilhiém says: I hear bugs.
Liotuse says: You're in -Silithus-.
Mayrù wrinkles her nose, "B-bugs?"
Wilhiém says: And I -love- it.
Liotuse shakes his head.
Dyna blinks back at Mayru quietly.
Dyna says: You'll be fine, dear.
Liotuse spreads his hands wide. "This little valley looks inviting."
Apophan's voice booms over the Windstones, "Xia chk'rik ik i ki k!!!!"
Liotuse sighs. "Chittering too! Fantastic!"
Wilhiém grins widely. "...this is amazing."
The Hivemother lets loose an earsplitting shriek.
Liotuse grimaces and immediately brings his fists up over his ears.
Wilhiém fights back the urge to take notes and draws his sword instead.
Mayrù says: -amazing-?
Wilhiém says: Have you -seen- anything like this before?
Liotuse slogs his way through the water, spitting as he glances right. "There's a path."
Three eggs plop from the queen's, well... thing.
Wilhiém still fights back the urge to take notes.
The eggs hatch, from each emerges a tentacled, mutated trespasser. Apophan's voice echoes, "Behold. Your. FATE!"
Liotuse recoils a bit, shifting to the right and trying to find a more shallow part. There. At least he can sort of stand, raising his longswords. "Try us."
Liotuse glances up at the Silithid queen, then down to the mutations. "Why. You three are as ugly as your mother. Now that's impressive."
Insect A says: You shall be one of us soon... Very soon... So you should not say such things...
Liotuse fakes a loud gasp, glancing back to his three companions. "They respond pretty well. Maybe I can teach them the art of comebacks."
Wilhiém says: Shhh, shh, I already have self-esteem issues.
Insect A opens his mouth impossibly wide and let's a shrieking battle cry. He then jumps into the air and lands on top of Liotuse, weapon in hands.
Liotuse blinks at the creature's speed, trying to raise his weapons to deflect. His reaction was off and slow, crashing underneath the water with the mutated creature on him.
Insect A says: DIE! DIE!DIE!
Insect B stares with the white blank eyes the staff glowing as it aimed at Mayru casting a sinister curse of pain at the person.
Mayrù inhales sharply, hand gripping at her chest as the curse sinks into it's mark.
Insect C grabs his weapons in both hands charges at Willhiem, swinging his axe at his chest.
Wilhiém coughs, gurgling, letting out guttural swears as the axe lunges between the plates, no doubt breaking something important.
Mayrù shakes her head and arches her shadows out toward the injured, warding them and soothing their pain.
Liotuse -grapples- the monstrosity with his right arm, trying to jerk it around and reverse their positions so he's above it. Underneath the sick liquids they're immersed in, he lunges with the sword in his other hand to impale it.
Dyna growls and steps infront of Mayru protectively. She casts out her right hand, a golden celestial hammer flies forth aimed for Insect B's chest.
Insect B laughes as he snaps his staff to the right deflecting the hammer, "Infidel!"
The Hivemother lets out a shriek. Hivecall.
Insect A grabs Liotuse by his robes and pulls him forth, with a curved knife in his other hand.
Insect B slams the staff onto the water making a small tidal wave fly toward Mayru.
Mayrù lifts her arms in front of her face to try and block the rushing water. She sputters and coughs once it passes, gasping for air.
There's a lovely fresh spurt of red colour in the liquid as the knife slips into Lio, bypassing his tunic and the piece of metal beneath it.
Insect C raises his hand out of the water grabbing Willhiem's shouders bringing his blade in from behind stabbing him in the back.
Mayrù holds a hand over her throat, focusing on working past the pain she's feeling. Her other hand arcs to throw soothing shadows toward Liotuse.
Wilhiém growls. He turns, swings, bringing out the hooked sword and aiming -just- below the attacher's sternum, hooked up, aiming to gut it - in the nicest way possible.
Liotuse jerks himself back to remove the knife from his torso, finding his actions a bit easier without as much pain to deal with. He lets go of both his swords to reach out and grab the creature's neck, jerking to try and break whatever now passes as its neck.
A resounding crack is heard, and the creature goes limp. It now banks in the liquid, not stirring for a moment.
Dyna 's eye tics. She snarls and lunges at the thing that hurt Mayru, holy energy bursting from her weapon to smack the carapace- hard.
A massive proboscis descends from the Hivemother and into each of the remaining pets... She unshackles herself from the wall...
Insect B falls to the water,dead
The Queen drops down and hisses angrily at the intruders to her hive. However, lethargy has taken its toll.
The Queen spits acid in all directions. The poison splatters against the fluid, sending it flying.
The Queen's deathwail echoes across the desert... the Silithid on the outside battle would become enraged.
Liotuse manages to break the surface of the liquid, gasping for air as he gestures to the others to follow him, seeing the collapsed Hivemother.
Liotuse sets a hand to the open knife wound in the side of his torso, trying to wipe the crap away from the area. He doesn't want that infected, wiping at his eyes as well. "You... okay Mayru? Took some hits..."
Mayrù drops her levitation spell as she settled on the bank. She nods distantly and closes her eyes to regain her focus. "I'll... Be fine, let's press onwards."
Liotuse sheathes his swords, reaching back for his rifle to work hastily to clean the flintlock mechanism. "We've got to keep moving then. I think that might have taken longer... than it should've." It's clear he's trying to catch his breath.
Dyna 's lips remain thin, and she hovers guardedly close to Mayru, frowning. She doesn't say anything, but her jaw is clenched.
Wilhiém crawls out, coughing, spitting, swearing. He pulls off his helm and shakes his head about. He winces - hand darting behind his armor - and tugging the network shut once again.
Liotuse coughs and spits. He doesn't even want to question what he was just swimming in. "Thanks for the save by the way. May. Didn't see it but I did notice I didn't feel like I was just -stabbed-."
Wilhiém says: Liotuse. Get over here.
Liotuse stops.
Mayrù smiles weakly, "Of course. I can surpress the pain and keep you fighting. We'll fix wounds once we reach triage."
Wilhiém stretches out a hand. On it - a small bug, stinger extended. "Adrenaline shot. Bring up to neck. Twist head. Numbs pain, gives a boost."
Liotuse stretches up to his full height, shaking his head as he seems to zone out. Centering himself and taking a few seconds to stretch out his arms. "I'm fine. A stab isn't much and we've just started. Keep it for yourself."
Dyna 's jaw clenches as she casts a worried glance towards Tuse, and frowns faintly. She seems more interested in staring at her boots now.
Mayrù loops in arm with Dyna's and lean's her cheek on the woman's shoulder as they walk -- some small comfort.
Wilhiém winces. "Whatever you wish." He brings the insect to his own neck, the stinger goign in-out. Hisses, tosses it aside.
As the group nears, they could hear the pained roars of Bryagh.
Liotuse says: ...Company.
Wilhiém says: Familiar.
Liotuse says: It can't fly and it's wounded on the left side. Stay on that side. Abuse it's lack of mobility. Watch the head.
Apophan yells: You will go no closer, BLASPHEMING TRESSPASSERSSS!
Apophan yells: Flee, then, Acolyte.
Apophan slams his scythe to the ground, it burns into the rocks.
Wilhiém says: That.
Wilhiém says: Is a cow.
Apophan says: You've caused my beloved Bryagh much pain... and for that... you will die. You've slain the Hivemother... do you know how long it takes to GROW ONE?!
Liotuse says: A while. Mad bastard, aren't you? Maybe we'll help next time we visit if you hand us our people back.
Apophan says: No matter, I have a surprise for you...
Wilhiém taps his chin. "No, but I would be interested to find out."
Apophan says: An old friend...
Liotuse loads the rifle, cocking the hammer and slinging it onto his bac but instead draws his longswords.
Mayrù reaches out to grip limply at Dyna's wrist, ".... Oh light."
Wilhiém says: ...the penguin is not here, is it?
The broken, twisted and mutilated shell of Strahm steps forward. Lightweight bands of Elementium cover his chest and back.
Liotuse tosses a 'shut up for now' look over his shoulder at Wilhiem.
Stràhm approaches alongside the Apophan. Black sclera-colored eyes stare intently at the trespassers. A smoking rifle is held in both hands across his chest. A chest that is covered with plates of Elementium melded to his skin. "Yes, Sovereign."
Apophan says: Destroy these intruders... I tire of their pathetic mewlings.
Stràhm says: As you command.
Liotuse backpedals, murmering lowly to his group. Perhaps too low for Apophan or Strahm to hear. "Aim to incapacitate. Not kill."
Apophan looks at Strahm.
Wilhiém looks disappointed.
Apophan says: Aim to decapitate.
Wilhiém mimicks the cow with a hand-puppet.
Liotuse flashes Apophan a grin. You just had to catch that didn't you? Lio gives his longswords a whirl in each hand, already trying to spike his adrenaline.
Strahm aims his rifle ahead of him at the group.
Dyna just stares. Her expression does not appear to change, and her hand grips Mayru's, her features strangely flat. More holy energy bristles, forming a haze about her thick red armor.
Liotuse tries to pivot and dart to the left as he sees the end of the rifle his way. All he manages to do is relocate it to the left side of his midsection. His tunic and the metal within it stands no real chance, the round striking deep.
Mayrù 's hand jerks up as the bullet flies, enveloping it in shadows the lessen the damage it would do to it's target.
Apophan chuckles, "I think I will enjoy watching thiss..." he moves over to his other cultists.
Wilhiém winces and spits on the ground. "Fookin' cultists." He re-seals his helm and dashes out, spiked shield in front of him - towards Minion!Strahm.
Liotuse lets himself fall to the side. Laying down would be a bit more comfortable than standing with a bullet wound now. He slips the throwing knife out of his right boot, snapping his wrist to try and catch Strahm low in the leg.
Kamazlek cackles a little gnomish cackle. "Very amusing!"
Dyna releases Mayru and moves forward, bringing her large red blade up as she darts forward and slamming forward with holy judgement, blade glittering with Light.
Stràhm hardly makes a noise as he's impaled, cut, and stabbed with a flying projectile. Still, he stares with a high intensity within his black-clouded eyes at the group.
Strahm vanishes in a sudden crack of electricity. He appears here, then there, and seemingly everywhere at once. But when he finally remains still, both blades are held out, the rifle strapped to his back. ( AOE all roll )
Apophan snarls his flaming eyes widen in abject rage.
Mayrù moves closer to Liotuse, waving her hands forward to soothe his pain with more shadow energy!
Wilhiém throws the shield aside. He hisses, winces, then pulls off hsi gauntlet - bare hand darting for Strahm's throat. He would attempt a drain, simple shadow-sort - if successful, it would significantly weaken the poor... beaten... thing.
Liotuse dips his head in thanks to Mayru, struggling to get to his feet. He doesn't bother picking up his longswords, stumbling into a charge to break for Strahm's right and snap his left leg around in a strike to his kidney. Plating or not, he might be able to feel it.
Dyna's eyes briefly close as she lunges forward, closing the small distance between herself and the thing that used to be her husband. She doesn't hesitate- her sword plunges down for his collar, striking at the throat; holy energy sizzles as she infuses the strike with righteous vengeance.
Apophan says: My creation. Kill them.
Stràhm falters slightly, eyes lidding partially at the battering. The grip on his throat seems to drain him, and the kick to his metal-plated side may have done it, too. Or that oddly weak chop to the collar bone. His attention, however, abruptly and fully shifts to Wilhiem. One of his swords is raised up, and made to cut him vigorously across the chest.
Wilhiém hisses. The drain fills him, mending - the pain mostly negated. The sword slides between the plates, blood gushing out. He falls to his side, grasping, attempting to flimsily heal what he can.
The Door to the Watchers Terrace creaks open.
Apophan turns and his eyes widen... in horror.
Apophan roars with bestial vigor. So fierce!
Mayrù frowns sadly toward Strahm's desecrated body. Shadows swirl around her hand and she lobs a mind blast toward him, fully geared to just disable him.
Team Idle Hands: Garden Wing
Sameal says: Hmmm... So Kama and the dragon weren't enough to slow you down... Impessive.
Nialos says: Oh.
Llew says: You'll be no different.
Nialos says: A ponce.
Nialos says: Lovely.
Oliver says: A gloatin' ponce.
Llew draws his blades, eyes narrowing.
Oliver 's blade is loose on his back. One quick movement and it'll be in his hands. His fingers twitch again.
Sameal says: Ponce? Hmmm. Your names are cute, but I'm afraid M'Lady, the one who just shouted, is correct. You have trespassed upon sacred soil... You will die.
Nialos says: I do that everyday. Still livin'.
Nialos says: ... Sort of.
Oliver spits a vile black substance onto the sand.
Sameal says: Hmm... I'll correct the mistakes of the past then. Let's begin.
Oliver says: Such manners.
Nialos says: A gloating, well-mannered ponce.
Sameal summons a magical barrier and calls forth his Voidwalker.
Nialos says: We are so luc--
Sameal says: You'll be fighting Phankath here... I don't expect much, but don't die too soon... Kill.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, claws extended.
Llew naturally gets nailed.
Oliver 's blade is swiftly drawn. He plunges it into the demon as it rushes past him toward Llew.
Llew is knocked back into the sand, but thanks to Oliver's hit, is cleared for attack. He rises, shadowstepping to Samael to bury a dagger in his back.
Sameal 's minion cries out, all damage flowing into him as he is banished and the barrier around his master lowers.
Oliver says: Go, Nialos!
Nialos staggers some from the previous blow, but manages to regain his footing rather quickly. He charges forward, leaping up and bringing his blade down in a heavy swing.
Sameal brings up his arm and yells out as the blade sinks itself into his arm and shoulder. "Hmm... perhaps something more... potent..."
Sameal jumps back, repeating the process, but this time a Felguard coming forth.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, axe raised in a mighty arc at the one who harmed his master.
Nialos brings his blade up to defend, but not in time - the Felguard's axe slices down the Knight's chest, sending him sputtering backwards into the dirt.
Oliver reaches a hand out. A dark energy shoots forward and wraps itself around the demon, pulling it straight to him and onto his outstretched, awaiting blade.
Llew rushes the demon, from the side, sliding at its midsection.
Oliver didn't realize the armor was quite so thick! It prevents any major damage to the demon, and he manages to free it as Llew rushes its side.
Nialos rolls back into a stand, hurling a sickening coil towards the demon.
Sameal 's minion is about to bring his axe down on the creature slashing at his midsection but stops as he's hit by the coil, snarling he instead rushes at the weakest target, the one he attacked earlier...
Nialos bellows and rushes forward, colliding with the demon. He grunts as it lodges his feet into the sand.
Nialos says: Oliver!
Oliver 's eyes flare in rage and he bullrushes the demon, slamming his spiked shoulder into its exposed chest area, to both damage it and knock it back
Llew rolls with his previous swipe, turning as the felguard is shoved backward by Oliver's attack. He lifts his blade in a position that will hopefully drive the demon right onto it.
Haaghun yowls in pain as it is sent back into the Nether, taking Sameal's sheild with it.
Nialos again rushes towards Sameal, aiming to impale the Elf on his blade. However, a bone shield manifests just before impact.
Sameal summons forth his fel armor, it absorbing a bit of the blow but himself taking a good portion of the hit. He stumbles back, cursing. "You lot... are getting annoying."
Sameal summons forth another shield, and this time calls forth a succubus temptress from the Nether.
Sameal orders the temptress forward. "Distract them... I must prepare..."
Angeth rushes forward, her whip lashing out at the one who had attacker he master last.
Nialos grunts as the whip connects with a shoulder, and he dives out of the way for Oliver. "Take it down, dammit!"
Oliver looks up. The matte black ooze from before has begun to leak from his pores. His eyes widen as Nialos is charged, bringing something of a human expression back to his face. "Light -damn- it!" He charges the succubus with a heavy slash of his blade.
Llew growls, an inhuman sound, and rushes the temptress, swiping his blade at the back of her neck.
Nialos charges forward and goes for a decapitation.
Sameal holds his bleeding arm and shoulder, the pain his minions felt now returned to him... "Damn you... this is not over.... you WILL die...
Sameal calls forth a magic carpet and hops on, leaving a trail of blood on the ground as he flies limply away. "THIS IS NOT OVER!"
Nialos tries to step forward, chuckling. "Oh n-" He grunts, falling to one knee.
Nialos kneels down.
Llew moves quickly over to Nialos, touching his shoulder.
The madness in Oliver's expression fades and he runs to Nialos, sliding down in the sand to his side. His eyes flare and a pulse of unholy energy leaves his hand- a mending death coil.
Nialos 's eyes flare as the energy shoots through him, his wounds suddenly beginning to heal, slowly repairing the damage done.
Anna's drake, Emerzh, roars a challenge to the adventurers
Llew pulls away from the knights, his eyes lifting to the sky.
Nialos 's shoulders roll as the last wound closes, and he rises with a grunt. "... Like I said earlier. Gettin' too old for this." Sighing, he looks at Oliver with a tired expression. "Where to?"
Oliver stands. The black still drips from him. It looks... rather unpleasant.
Oliver says: Forward.
Oliver says: We ready?
Llew frowns.
Oliver says: Don't answer that.
Nialos says: Too bad.
Nialos says: Ready as we'll ever be.
Oliver says: Good.
Oliver says: ... We're bein' watched.
Rulkan's body appears to be incased entirely in a thick layer of ice. As the denouncers move forward, large cracks form in the barrier before the entire casing shatters. Rulkan's eyes open slowly allowing a blue glow to shine through his helm.
As Rulkan stands, the water from the pool in the center of the area, overflows, harming none, but settling just below the knees on the dead orc and the others.
Nialos says: ... Damn.
Nialos says: The one time we need a Paladin.
Oliver wrinkles his nose, lifting one foot and stepping back. The black dripping from him pools of the water's surface and separates like oil.
Rulkan lets out a hearty chuckle.
Nialos steps back, settling in a defensive stance. "Well. This should be interesting."
Llew sometimes curses his leathers. This is one of those times.
Water shoots upward out of the pond of water and arcs off toward the closest denouncer. As the water reaches the target, the particles begin to freeze before attempting to pull them down to their knees.
Nialos does his best to resist, but eventually he succumbs to the pull and falls to his knees. "Sonnuva-"
Oliver can't charge very effectively when he's bogged down by water. Instead, he relaxes, and from his throat and under his armor rise thousands of tiny carrion beetles. They swarm toward Rulkan to devour his delicious dead flesh.
Llew sprints, as nimble in water as he is on land. He rushes Rulkan, aiming a dagger at a gap between the orc's helm and pauldron -- a bit of exposed neck.
Rulkan reaches up as the beetles come to him, ripping his helmet off with a chuckle as black blood dribbles out of his mouth, enjoying the beetles and unflinching as a result of the gash from the dagger.
Rulkan looks forward toward Oliver, a small grin forming on his face before he would rush forward across the water, attempting to bring his mace around to hit the denouncer.
Oliver can't dodge very well, either. He falls back into the water with a loud splash.
Oliver is only further enraged by this. He hates water. An aura of frost forms around him and he scrambles on top of the water, supported by his ice. He charges toward Rulkan, using the slippery ice for more momentum.
Llew uses his turning momentum to fling a throwing star at the back of Rulkan's now helmless head.
Nialos finally manages to break free from the ice's clutch, his blade spearing upwards towards Rulkan's cranial region.
Rulkan stumbles backwards as a result of Oliver's charge, Llew's throwing weapon embedding itself into the stitching across the death knight's neck and Nialos's blade creating a shallow slice across the side of his head.
Rulkan turns around, enraged by the metal stuck in the back of his head and faces Llew.
A blue glow gathers around Rulkan's hand before slowly decending towards the ground. The energy quickly changes into a mixture of frost and ice as the death knight raises his hand to whip out towards the nearest target.
Llew lets out a sharp grunt as the ice whip lashes him across the face. He stumbles back, splashing into the water.
Rulkan chuckles loudly.
Oliver takes advantage of Rulkan's back being turned. He again charges, and his beetles swarm down with him, a combined charge of blade and swarm.
Llew rises from the water in a rage, half-blinded by the blood in his eyes. He rushes Rulkan again, swiping his main blade at the orc's head.
Nialos; blade flashes red, producing a second, floating copy. Charging forwards, the blades stand primed to skewer up through Rulkan's armpits.
Rulkan 's muscle tense up and weaken as the beetles flow into his body, Oliver's blade making a clean cut through the weakness in the back of his plate armor, barley poking through the other side. He doesn't even seem to pay attention to the other two attacks.
Khaelanna yells: Look within yourself and feel the pain that only the Gods can bring! Turn from your unholy worship of insubstantial "light" and take up the ways of the TRUE GODS of Azeroth, awesome creators of the very soil you walk upon!
Rulkan takes a step forward, pulling Oliver's sword out slightly before twisting around to slam the tip of his spiked pummel towards Oliver's neck.
Rulkan yells: You dare touch me!? You have no earned the right to even look upon me alliance scum!
Llew roars at the sight of Oliver being run through. He leaps at Rulkan's back, bringing his dagger down toward the back of his neck.
Nialos' second runeblade begins to flicker, but maintains its presence. Desperate, he aims both blades towards Rulkan's forehead. "Just. DIE."
Rulkan 's head jolts backwards as Oliver's sword pushes directly through Rulkan's neck. Black blood bubbles and gushes out of the wound instantly, though the orc does not appear to show the appropriate pain. Nialos' sword's sliding on either side of his mohawk as Llew's dagger lands in his neck. Rulkan growls loudly, regretting the decision he is about to make.
Rulkan falls to his knees, looking up at Oliver with a smirk as his palm lays flat against the ground.
Rulkan's right knee falls to the ground as both of his palms press firmly against the soil. His fingers curl into the dirt before he stands up, causing a large shard of ice to shoot out of the ground toward a denouncer.
Llew lets out a roar as Oliver goes down, and leaps onto Rulkan's back to drive his other dagger into the orc's back.
Llew yells: Come back here, you crazy bitch!
Rulkan collapses against the ground, all of the water in the area receding seemingly into the death knight, who's body begins to ice over again.
Oliver goes rigid as the ice spike rails straight through his body. He collapses over the spike, the black ooze travelling down it into the water. His hands grasp feebly at it, but he can't make his fingers work.
Llew rushes to Oliver, looking to Nialos. "Pull him off!"
Nialos does as he's told, holding the other Death Knight over his shoulder. "Damn it all..."
Nialos says: C'mon... away from... from -that-.
Llew helps as much as he can. "Shit . . ."
Nialos shuffles off towards the sand waaaaay over there, carrying Oliver with him. "... I'll do what I can."
Oliver is lifted from the spike. The wound is huge- straight through his midsection is a hole that leads the entire way through. He doesn't seem bothered, if there's pain, but his muscles tense and loosen beyond his control.
Nialos gently lays Oliver down, a palm immediately finding itself over the other Death Knight's chest. "This... is going to be tough."
Llew watches, helpless.
Oliver lifts a hand. He waves it almost mindlessly in the direction they need to be headed before it falls back to his side. His back arches as his muscles stiffen again.
Nialos' blade begins to glow a dull red, which pours through his arm and into Oliver. "Stow it, Oliver. I can do this much..."
Oliver's swarm spills out from his wound, covering the ground around the three. Despite their nature, they don't bite. The flesh glows an unholy red as it knits, but it's not much- the wound is still a gaping mess. Just a smaller mess.
Nialos relents, drawing his hand back. "That's as much as I can do for now without draining my reserves."
Oliver says: G-go.
Oliver says: She's dying. Please-
Llew says: We aren't leaving you here!
Nialos taps Oliver's forehead, and proceeds to lift the man up. "Damn straight. Come on."
Llew says: C'mon, Oliver. We need you there. -She- needs you.
Nialos says: Yep. Think of it like this; you now get a rest. Cheer us on.
Oliver tries to struggle, but his upper and lower body don't seem to be communicating quite right. He's lifted, and resigns to using what energy he has to support himself.
Nialos says: Right. Llew. Lead the way.
Nialos says: Hope you don't mind the bumpy ride!
Oliver says: Fngh.
Llew pauses, peering around.
Apophan has Senkha in a magical cocoon floating next to him.
Marìus says: .. Heliorn's forces are holding-- but only barely.
Llew pauses, jaw tightening as Senkha comes into view. He glared at Apophan, rage building. So many bad memories.
Nialos glances back, blinking. "... Marius?"
Marìus rolls his shoulders.
Marìus says: -We have work to do.
Nialos says: Damn straight we do.
Nialos sets Oliver down. "We're down a man here."
Oliver looks up at the stairs and the dais behind them. He then sees Senkha. His eyes flare and he struggles in Nialos' grip- and yay, he's set down!
Marìus says: -Keep him out of the immediate line of fire.
Apophan yells: CHOSEN! MY APPRENTICE! FEED THEM THEIR ENTRAILS FOR DESECRATING THIS HALLOWED GROUND!
Llew yells: I'll have your fucking tongue as a belt, you monster!
Drathnor yells: As you wish. The gods bless my axe this day!
Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!
Oliver flops over like a dead fish. He snarls in an almost inhuman manner and tries to push himself up.
Wilhiém says: WHo the -fuck- put your ass in charge?
Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Marìus says: ... Nice to see you, Will.
Wilhiém winks, grins, finger-guns.
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!
Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!
Liotuse glances over, blinking to Marius. It's Lio with two knives, longswords and a rifle. "How's it going O fearless leader?"
Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!
Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!
Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.
As they turn toward the dais, goal in sight, a large, dark, spider-like form drops to the stairs, blocking access. The Lord-Inquisitor Anna d'Khael, Hand of Shad'ra, raises an arm and thrumming arcane swirls around her.
Nialos drops into a combat-ready stance. "Right."
Llew draws his blades and narrows his eyes.
Nialos says: Oh.
Llew says: You'll be no different.
Nialos says: A ponce.
Nialos says: Lovely.
Oliver says: A gloatin' ponce.
Llew draws his blades, eyes narrowing.
Oliver 's blade is loose on his back. One quick movement and it'll be in his hands. His fingers twitch again.
Sameal says: Ponce? Hmmm. Your names are cute, but I'm afraid M'Lady, the one who just shouted, is correct. You have trespassed upon sacred soil... You will die.
Nialos says: I do that everyday. Still livin'.
Nialos says: ... Sort of.
Oliver spits a vile black substance onto the sand.
Sameal says: Hmm... I'll correct the mistakes of the past then. Let's begin.
Oliver says: Such manners.
Nialos says: A gloating, well-mannered ponce.
Sameal summons a magical barrier and calls forth his Voidwalker.
Nialos says: We are so luc--
Sameal says: You'll be fighting Phankath here... I don't expect much, but don't die too soon... Kill.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, claws extended.
Llew naturally gets nailed.
Oliver 's blade is swiftly drawn. He plunges it into the demon as it rushes past him toward Llew.
Llew is knocked back into the sand, but thanks to Oliver's hit, is cleared for attack. He rises, shadowstepping to Samael to bury a dagger in his back.
Sameal 's minion cries out, all damage flowing into him as he is banished and the barrier around his master lowers.
Oliver says: Go, Nialos!
Nialos staggers some from the previous blow, but manages to regain his footing rather quickly. He charges forward, leaping up and bringing his blade down in a heavy swing.
Sameal brings up his arm and yells out as the blade sinks itself into his arm and shoulder. "Hmm... perhaps something more... potent..."
Sameal jumps back, repeating the process, but this time a Felguard coming forth.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, axe raised in a mighty arc at the one who harmed his master.
Nialos brings his blade up to defend, but not in time - the Felguard's axe slices down the Knight's chest, sending him sputtering backwards into the dirt.
Oliver reaches a hand out. A dark energy shoots forward and wraps itself around the demon, pulling it straight to him and onto his outstretched, awaiting blade.
Llew rushes the demon, from the side, sliding at its midsection.
Oliver didn't realize the armor was quite so thick! It prevents any major damage to the demon, and he manages to free it as Llew rushes its side.
Nialos rolls back into a stand, hurling a sickening coil towards the demon.
Sameal 's minion is about to bring his axe down on the creature slashing at his midsection but stops as he's hit by the coil, snarling he instead rushes at the weakest target, the one he attacked earlier...
Nialos bellows and rushes forward, colliding with the demon. He grunts as it lodges his feet into the sand.
Nialos says: Oliver!
Oliver 's eyes flare in rage and he bullrushes the demon, slamming his spiked shoulder into its exposed chest area, to both damage it and knock it back
Llew rolls with his previous swipe, turning as the felguard is shoved backward by Oliver's attack. He lifts his blade in a position that will hopefully drive the demon right onto it.
Haaghun yowls in pain as it is sent back into the Nether, taking Sameal's sheild with it.
Nialos again rushes towards Sameal, aiming to impale the Elf on his blade. However, a bone shield manifests just before impact.
Sameal summons forth his fel armor, it absorbing a bit of the blow but himself taking a good portion of the hit. He stumbles back, cursing. "You lot... are getting annoying."
Sameal summons forth another shield, and this time calls forth a succubus temptress from the Nether.
Sameal orders the temptress forward. "Distract them... I must prepare..."
Angeth rushes forward, her whip lashing out at the one who had attacker he master last.
Nialos grunts as the whip connects with a shoulder, and he dives out of the way for Oliver. "Take it down, dammit!"
Oliver looks up. The matte black ooze from before has begun to leak from his pores. His eyes widen as Nialos is charged, bringing something of a human expression back to his face. "Light -damn- it!" He charges the succubus with a heavy slash of his blade.
Llew growls, an inhuman sound, and rushes the temptress, swiping his blade at the back of her neck.
Nialos charges forward and goes for a decapitation.
Sameal holds his bleeding arm and shoulder, the pain his minions felt now returned to him... "Damn you... this is not over.... you WILL die...
Sameal calls forth a magic carpet and hops on, leaving a trail of blood on the ground as he flies limply away. "THIS IS NOT OVER!"
Nialos tries to step forward, chuckling. "Oh n-" He grunts, falling to one knee.
Nialos kneels down.
Llew moves quickly over to Nialos, touching his shoulder.
The madness in Oliver's expression fades and he runs to Nialos, sliding down in the sand to his side. His eyes flare and a pulse of unholy energy leaves his hand- a mending death coil.
Nialos 's eyes flare as the energy shoots through him, his wounds suddenly beginning to heal, slowly repairing the damage done.
Anna's drake, Emerzh, roars a challenge to the adventurers
Llew pulls away from the knights, his eyes lifting to the sky.
Nialos 's shoulders roll as the last wound closes, and he rises with a grunt. "... Like I said earlier. Gettin' too old for this." Sighing, he looks at Oliver with a tired expression. "Where to?"
Oliver stands. The black still drips from him. It looks... rather unpleasant.
Oliver says: Forward.
Oliver says: We ready?
Llew frowns.
Oliver says: Don't answer that.
Nialos says: Too bad.
Nialos says: Ready as we'll ever be.
Oliver says: Good.
Oliver says: ... We're bein' watched.
Rulkan's body appears to be incased entirely in a thick layer of ice. As the denouncers move forward, large cracks form in the barrier before the entire casing shatters. Rulkan's eyes open slowly allowing a blue glow to shine through his helm.
As Rulkan stands, the water from the pool in the center of the area, overflows, harming none, but settling just below the knees on the dead orc and the others.
Nialos says: ... Damn.
Nialos says: The one time we need a Paladin.
Oliver wrinkles his nose, lifting one foot and stepping back. The black dripping from him pools of the water's surface and separates like oil.
Rulkan lets out a hearty chuckle.
Nialos steps back, settling in a defensive stance. "Well. This should be interesting."
Llew sometimes curses his leathers. This is one of those times.
Water shoots upward out of the pond of water and arcs off toward the closest denouncer. As the water reaches the target, the particles begin to freeze before attempting to pull them down to their knees.
Nialos does his best to resist, but eventually he succumbs to the pull and falls to his knees. "Sonnuva-"
Oliver can't charge very effectively when he's bogged down by water. Instead, he relaxes, and from his throat and under his armor rise thousands of tiny carrion beetles. They swarm toward Rulkan to devour his delicious dead flesh.
Llew sprints, as nimble in water as he is on land. He rushes Rulkan, aiming a dagger at a gap between the orc's helm and pauldron -- a bit of exposed neck.
Rulkan reaches up as the beetles come to him, ripping his helmet off with a chuckle as black blood dribbles out of his mouth, enjoying the beetles and unflinching as a result of the gash from the dagger.
Rulkan looks forward toward Oliver, a small grin forming on his face before he would rush forward across the water, attempting to bring his mace around to hit the denouncer.
Oliver can't dodge very well, either. He falls back into the water with a loud splash.
Oliver is only further enraged by this. He hates water. An aura of frost forms around him and he scrambles on top of the water, supported by his ice. He charges toward Rulkan, using the slippery ice for more momentum.
Llew uses his turning momentum to fling a throwing star at the back of Rulkan's now helmless head.
Nialos finally manages to break free from the ice's clutch, his blade spearing upwards towards Rulkan's cranial region.
Rulkan stumbles backwards as a result of Oliver's charge, Llew's throwing weapon embedding itself into the stitching across the death knight's neck and Nialos's blade creating a shallow slice across the side of his head.
Rulkan turns around, enraged by the metal stuck in the back of his head and faces Llew.
A blue glow gathers around Rulkan's hand before slowly decending towards the ground. The energy quickly changes into a mixture of frost and ice as the death knight raises his hand to whip out towards the nearest target.
Llew lets out a sharp grunt as the ice whip lashes him across the face. He stumbles back, splashing into the water.
Rulkan chuckles loudly.
Oliver takes advantage of Rulkan's back being turned. He again charges, and his beetles swarm down with him, a combined charge of blade and swarm.
Llew rises from the water in a rage, half-blinded by the blood in his eyes. He rushes Rulkan again, swiping his main blade at the orc's head.
Nialos; blade flashes red, producing a second, floating copy. Charging forwards, the blades stand primed to skewer up through Rulkan's armpits.
Rulkan 's muscle tense up and weaken as the beetles flow into his body, Oliver's blade making a clean cut through the weakness in the back of his plate armor, barley poking through the other side. He doesn't even seem to pay attention to the other two attacks.
Khaelanna yells: Look within yourself and feel the pain that only the Gods can bring! Turn from your unholy worship of insubstantial "light" and take up the ways of the TRUE GODS of Azeroth, awesome creators of the very soil you walk upon!
Rulkan takes a step forward, pulling Oliver's sword out slightly before twisting around to slam the tip of his spiked pummel towards Oliver's neck.
Rulkan yells: You dare touch me!? You have no earned the right to even look upon me alliance scum!
Llew roars at the sight of Oliver being run through. He leaps at Rulkan's back, bringing his dagger down toward the back of his neck.
Nialos' second runeblade begins to flicker, but maintains its presence. Desperate, he aims both blades towards Rulkan's forehead. "Just. DIE."
Rulkan 's head jolts backwards as Oliver's sword pushes directly through Rulkan's neck. Black blood bubbles and gushes out of the wound instantly, though the orc does not appear to show the appropriate pain. Nialos' sword's sliding on either side of his mohawk as Llew's dagger lands in his neck. Rulkan growls loudly, regretting the decision he is about to make.
Rulkan falls to his knees, looking up at Oliver with a smirk as his palm lays flat against the ground.
Rulkan's right knee falls to the ground as both of his palms press firmly against the soil. His fingers curl into the dirt before he stands up, causing a large shard of ice to shoot out of the ground toward a denouncer.
Llew lets out a roar as Oliver goes down, and leaps onto Rulkan's back to drive his other dagger into the orc's back.
Llew yells: Come back here, you crazy bitch!
Rulkan collapses against the ground, all of the water in the area receding seemingly into the death knight, who's body begins to ice over again.
Oliver goes rigid as the ice spike rails straight through his body. He collapses over the spike, the black ooze travelling down it into the water. His hands grasp feebly at it, but he can't make his fingers work.
Llew rushes to Oliver, looking to Nialos. "Pull him off!"
Nialos does as he's told, holding the other Death Knight over his shoulder. "Damn it all..."
Nialos says: C'mon... away from... from -that-.
Llew helps as much as he can. "Shit . . ."
Nialos shuffles off towards the sand waaaaay over there, carrying Oliver with him. "... I'll do what I can."
Oliver is lifted from the spike. The wound is huge- straight through his midsection is a hole that leads the entire way through. He doesn't seem bothered, if there's pain, but his muscles tense and loosen beyond his control.
Nialos gently lays Oliver down, a palm immediately finding itself over the other Death Knight's chest. "This... is going to be tough."
Llew watches, helpless.
Oliver lifts a hand. He waves it almost mindlessly in the direction they need to be headed before it falls back to his side. His back arches as his muscles stiffen again.
Nialos' blade begins to glow a dull red, which pours through his arm and into Oliver. "Stow it, Oliver. I can do this much..."
Oliver's swarm spills out from his wound, covering the ground around the three. Despite their nature, they don't bite. The flesh glows an unholy red as it knits, but it's not much- the wound is still a gaping mess. Just a smaller mess.
Nialos relents, drawing his hand back. "That's as much as I can do for now without draining my reserves."
Oliver says: G-go.
Oliver says: She's dying. Please-
Llew says: We aren't leaving you here!
Nialos taps Oliver's forehead, and proceeds to lift the man up. "Damn straight. Come on."
Llew says: C'mon, Oliver. We need you there. -She- needs you.
Nialos says: Yep. Think of it like this; you now get a rest. Cheer us on.
Oliver tries to struggle, but his upper and lower body don't seem to be communicating quite right. He's lifted, and resigns to using what energy he has to support himself.
Nialos says: Right. Llew. Lead the way.
Nialos says: Hope you don't mind the bumpy ride!
Oliver says: Fngh.
Llew pauses, peering around.
Apophan has Senkha in a magical cocoon floating next to him.
Marìus says: .. Heliorn's forces are holding-- but only barely.
Llew pauses, jaw tightening as Senkha comes into view. He glared at Apophan, rage building. So many bad memories.
Nialos glances back, blinking. "... Marius?"
Marìus rolls his shoulders.
Marìus says: -We have work to do.
Nialos says: Damn straight we do.
Nialos sets Oliver down. "We're down a man here."
Oliver looks up at the stairs and the dais behind them. He then sees Senkha. His eyes flare and he struggles in Nialos' grip- and yay, he's set down!
Marìus says: -Keep him out of the immediate line of fire.
Apophan yells: CHOSEN! MY APPRENTICE! FEED THEM THEIR ENTRAILS FOR DESECRATING THIS HALLOWED GROUND!
Llew yells: I'll have your fucking tongue as a belt, you monster!
Drathnor yells: As you wish. The gods bless my axe this day!
Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!
Oliver flops over like a dead fish. He snarls in an almost inhuman manner and tries to push himself up.
Wilhiém says: WHo the -fuck- put your ass in charge?
Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Marìus says: ... Nice to see you, Will.
Wilhiém winks, grins, finger-guns.
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!
Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!
Liotuse glances over, blinking to Marius. It's Lio with two knives, longswords and a rifle. "How's it going O fearless leader?"
Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!
Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!
Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.
As they turn toward the dais, goal in sight, a large, dark, spider-like form drops to the stairs, blocking access. The Lord-Inquisitor Anna d'Khael, Hand of Shad'ra, raises an arm and thrumming arcane swirls around her.
Nialos drops into a combat-ready stance. "Right."
Llew draws his blades and narrows his eyes.
Khaelanna vs. Team Idle Hands
Khaelanna yells: [Qiraji] "Kh'shab ahpt ras'zuj! T katc tajh m'rh ni'cht s'k m'jh H'satl SHAD'RA!!"
Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.
The ground beneath their feet begins to seethe and writhe. From under the sands crawl thousands of small spiders, creeping into pants legs and sleeves, causing irritation, discomfort, and distraction.
Llew stumbles back a bit as all the bugs come forth. "What th---"
Nialos doesn't seem all that bothered by the bugs, but his eye twitches. "...Annoying."
Oliver tries to push himself up again as bugs swarm around his body. His muscles stiffen and he almost collapses, but something drives him. He climbs to his feet and staggers to the others.
Nialos immediately sends a shard of ice towards the giant spider. Going straight for the -eyes-.
Marìus lofts his hands. A soft shudder rattles through his bones; The creation of an imprint, reaching into the flesh of his allies and establishing a mender's connection. He's prepared to mitigate incoming damage.
Llew rushes the Black Widow, following the ice shards, throwing star slicking through the air toward her abdomen.
Oliver steps forward. He has a hard time of it still. Instead, his swarm collects itself and flies to Khaelanna, the cloud of flesheaters getting their fill today.
Khaelanna raises one arm. A steaming fissure opens at Llew 's feet and from it a purple blast of searing Twilight magic issues forth, forcing the attacker back a step and carrying the possibility of serious damage if they don't move quickly enough.
Marìus honestly loves spiders. He really does. At the moment, however? Not quite. There's a shiver in the back of his mind-- An ethereal warning, in fact. The Sigil and allied comrades managing the distraction 'outside' are under *heavy fire.*
Llew is a slick rogue and darts out of the way!
Nialos runs forwards, hacking at spidery legs and whatnot in wild abandon.
Oliver hunches over. Bleeds more. He snarls and straightens out again, fists clenched, trying to get a grip of his movement.
Marìus thrusts out one arm. Narrows his eyes. "Oliver-- Goddess-bless, don't give up. One foot at a time. Manage your hatred and prepare."
Llew follows Nialos, sprinting at the Black Widow. He lets out a roar, his own eyes flashing dark as he thrusts at her abdomen with his main blade.
Nialos calls out over his shoulder. "Oliver! Your rotten ass is not allowed to drop!"
Oliver laughs. And then charges. He can't swing his blade effectively so he resorts to body attacks. He's an effective blunt weapon. He slams his plagued body into the Widow.
Ariadine nervously drums her fingers against the side of her leg. At the sight of Marius and Oliver she slips back into the crowd of somber and silent cultists.
Khaelanna raises both arms and shards of ice drop in rapid succession upon the group, dangerous sharp projectiles piercing anything not protected.
This is another one of those moments that Llew curses his simple leather armor.
Nialos dodges around the falling ice shards, moving his blade to hack at the main body.
Marìus all but -leaps- to one side. He's fast to loft his hands-- Raise barrier, shielding, against the onslaught. But Llew-- *Shit*.
Llew finds himself pummeled with shards of ice. He hunkers down, trying to deflect them to no avail. Rising, his already bloodied face now more bloody, he rushes forward in a rage, once again shoving his main blade at the Widow's midsection.
Marìus' talons crook, outstretched. Mending leaps to his fingertips, cast for their burdened ally.
Oliver allows the shards to penetrate into him. Whatever madness drives him, he moves as though possessed, not caring as ice hails down onto him. He raises a blighted fist and tries to punch her in the face.
Khaelanna has a bloody lip.
The air above their heads crackles and sparkles as it heats. An acrid scent of burning ozone permeates the area. An orange ball of flame coalesces… pulsing and glowing. Orange, black and purple tendrils of Twilight Flame explode with a hiss from its surface. The air around their bodies erupts in burning Twilight Flame. The searing tendrils injure and inhibit all but the most agile fighter. Can you move fast enough to survive?
Llew draws back, wiping the blood from his face. Agile yet -- yay rogue tank -- he manages to avoid being crisped.
Nialos finds himself shielded by a glowing mass of runic green, absorbing the Twilight Flames. He summons his runeblade yet again, and begins to hack in a frenzy at the giant freaking spider.
Marìus finds himself lunging through agitated sand a second time, ignoring the grotesque little spiders that still chew tiny holes through bare, unfortunate skin. A duo of them skitter into his mouth as he gasps-- and he bites into their delicate bodies, swallowing the refuse, closing his eyes to channel another mender's spell.
Oliver is an angry, shambling zombie right now. No, he's not going to dodge attacks. He's going to eat them. In the face.
Llew moves in quickly once again, slicing at Anna's midsection to keep her focus on him. He drives his blade, intent on tearing her open.
Focus regained, splayed hands clap together. Energy shifts. Marius threads the essence of renew between his allies. Who was...? *There*.
Khaelanna deflects part of the attack.
Oliver charges forward at her again. A horrible, black, corrosive substance leaks from anywhere something can leak from, and a choking gas rises from his throat. He's not thinking, but he's quite caustic.
Khaelanna throws a shimmering cloak over herself and vanishes from view, emerging behind Llew and rapidly shooting a small Fireball toward them. It hisses with near-solar heat as it boils forth, seeking flesh.
Llew apparently can dodge a rear attack.
Oliver turns as she blinks behind them.
Nialos whips around, snarling. "Tricky bitch..."
Nialos lunges forward, plague encasing his blade as it speeds towards the spider's abdoman.
Llew turns, flinging another throwing star aimed at Anna's throat.
Her position shifts. Marius' eyes follow the spideress as she moves behind Llew. It's an opportunity to lunge-- and he takes it. Claws, brutal, extend. He charges with a hard, blunt edge to his motions: And ever 'graceful' (hah) - does the only thing he's made for in close-quarters. Attempting to body-check her like a four-hundred-pound train.
Khaelanna glares angrily at Oliver.
Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*
Oliver gives a low laugh. "Ah w-wonder ha' many bodies you-" He's interrupted as he retches up more black. So instead he casts. Tendrils of unholy reach into the ground to pull up what they can- apparently there's something, because one old weatherbeaten corpse rises. Oliver falls to his knees from the effort of the cast. His minion attacks.
Below their feet the ground near the mage begins to glow with blinding Twilight power, drawing life from those remaining within it. If caught within Neptulon's Fist you will feel your arms and legs turn frigid and your heart slow, as cold grips you. As their hearts slow, they feel fear grip them: they -must- break loose or the Fist might drag you into Death's domain! Only the most determined of fighter possesses the will to escape its penetrating grasp!
Llew leaps away at the last second, but is still knocked off his feet and hits the sand.
Oliver can't really avoid much. He's gripped. Thankfully, he's already dead and doesn't seem too bothered by the paralytic cold.
Nialos rages forth from the icy tomb, breaking off shards of ice, his eyes glaring daggers at the spider. His blade swings in a massive arc, aiming for legs, chest, anything.
Llew rises from the sand, sprinting forth with the intent to bodycheck Anna back into the dirt.
Marìus' better powers turn inwards. Focus-- Soft light. Oliver, goddess-bless: GET BACK ON YOUR FEET-! The spell is flung and cast, meant to energize his brutally savaged wounds.
Oliver is on his back. He can't move. He can hardly think. But now he's energized. He reels around to face Khaelanna. "YOU COME T' ME." He shoots out a death grip, pulling her to where he's locked in place and sends another plated fist into the side of her head.
Apophan yells: SHSSSSRRRARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"Darkness will consume you and all Denouncers! You will fail and never see daylight again! The Gods have returned and the destruction of your world is imminent! For me and the Faithful, we choose ASCENDANCY!!" Khaelanna laughs at Oliver.
Oliver retches black again. His entire body is shaking.
Nialos says: Oliver. Hold it together.
Wilhiém 's eyes roll back as he coughs, spits, and lets out obscenities.
Nialos says: We're almost done.
Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.
The ground beneath their feet begins to seethe and writhe. From under the sands crawl thousands of small spiders, creeping into pants legs and sleeves, causing irritation, discomfort, and distraction.
Llew stumbles back a bit as all the bugs come forth. "What th---"
Nialos doesn't seem all that bothered by the bugs, but his eye twitches. "...Annoying."
Oliver tries to push himself up again as bugs swarm around his body. His muscles stiffen and he almost collapses, but something drives him. He climbs to his feet and staggers to the others.
Nialos immediately sends a shard of ice towards the giant spider. Going straight for the -eyes-.
Marìus lofts his hands. A soft shudder rattles through his bones; The creation of an imprint, reaching into the flesh of his allies and establishing a mender's connection. He's prepared to mitigate incoming damage.
Llew rushes the Black Widow, following the ice shards, throwing star slicking through the air toward her abdomen.
Oliver steps forward. He has a hard time of it still. Instead, his swarm collects itself and flies to Khaelanna, the cloud of flesheaters getting their fill today.
Khaelanna raises one arm. A steaming fissure opens at Llew 's feet and from it a purple blast of searing Twilight magic issues forth, forcing the attacker back a step and carrying the possibility of serious damage if they don't move quickly enough.
Marìus honestly loves spiders. He really does. At the moment, however? Not quite. There's a shiver in the back of his mind-- An ethereal warning, in fact. The Sigil and allied comrades managing the distraction 'outside' are under *heavy fire.*
Llew is a slick rogue and darts out of the way!
Nialos runs forwards, hacking at spidery legs and whatnot in wild abandon.
Oliver hunches over. Bleeds more. He snarls and straightens out again, fists clenched, trying to get a grip of his movement.
Marìus thrusts out one arm. Narrows his eyes. "Oliver-- Goddess-bless, don't give up. One foot at a time. Manage your hatred and prepare."
Llew follows Nialos, sprinting at the Black Widow. He lets out a roar, his own eyes flashing dark as he thrusts at her abdomen with his main blade.
Nialos calls out over his shoulder. "Oliver! Your rotten ass is not allowed to drop!"
Oliver laughs. And then charges. He can't swing his blade effectively so he resorts to body attacks. He's an effective blunt weapon. He slams his plagued body into the Widow.
Ariadine nervously drums her fingers against the side of her leg. At the sight of Marius and Oliver she slips back into the crowd of somber and silent cultists.
Khaelanna raises both arms and shards of ice drop in rapid succession upon the group, dangerous sharp projectiles piercing anything not protected.
This is another one of those moments that Llew curses his simple leather armor.
Nialos dodges around the falling ice shards, moving his blade to hack at the main body.
Marìus all but -leaps- to one side. He's fast to loft his hands-- Raise barrier, shielding, against the onslaught. But Llew-- *Shit*.
Llew finds himself pummeled with shards of ice. He hunkers down, trying to deflect them to no avail. Rising, his already bloodied face now more bloody, he rushes forward in a rage, once again shoving his main blade at the Widow's midsection.
Marìus' talons crook, outstretched. Mending leaps to his fingertips, cast for their burdened ally.
Oliver allows the shards to penetrate into him. Whatever madness drives him, he moves as though possessed, not caring as ice hails down onto him. He raises a blighted fist and tries to punch her in the face.
Khaelanna has a bloody lip.
The air above their heads crackles and sparkles as it heats. An acrid scent of burning ozone permeates the area. An orange ball of flame coalesces… pulsing and glowing. Orange, black and purple tendrils of Twilight Flame explode with a hiss from its surface. The air around their bodies erupts in burning Twilight Flame. The searing tendrils injure and inhibit all but the most agile fighter. Can you move fast enough to survive?
Llew draws back, wiping the blood from his face. Agile yet -- yay rogue tank -- he manages to avoid being crisped.
Nialos finds himself shielded by a glowing mass of runic green, absorbing the Twilight Flames. He summons his runeblade yet again, and begins to hack in a frenzy at the giant freaking spider.
Marìus finds himself lunging through agitated sand a second time, ignoring the grotesque little spiders that still chew tiny holes through bare, unfortunate skin. A duo of them skitter into his mouth as he gasps-- and he bites into their delicate bodies, swallowing the refuse, closing his eyes to channel another mender's spell.
Oliver is an angry, shambling zombie right now. No, he's not going to dodge attacks. He's going to eat them. In the face.
Llew moves in quickly once again, slicing at Anna's midsection to keep her focus on him. He drives his blade, intent on tearing her open.
Focus regained, splayed hands clap together. Energy shifts. Marius threads the essence of renew between his allies. Who was...? *There*.
Khaelanna deflects part of the attack.
Oliver charges forward at her again. A horrible, black, corrosive substance leaks from anywhere something can leak from, and a choking gas rises from his throat. He's not thinking, but he's quite caustic.
Khaelanna throws a shimmering cloak over herself and vanishes from view, emerging behind Llew and rapidly shooting a small Fireball toward them. It hisses with near-solar heat as it boils forth, seeking flesh.
Llew apparently can dodge a rear attack.
Oliver turns as she blinks behind them.
Nialos whips around, snarling. "Tricky bitch..."
Nialos lunges forward, plague encasing his blade as it speeds towards the spider's abdoman.
Llew turns, flinging another throwing star aimed at Anna's throat.
Her position shifts. Marius' eyes follow the spideress as she moves behind Llew. It's an opportunity to lunge-- and he takes it. Claws, brutal, extend. He charges with a hard, blunt edge to his motions: And ever 'graceful' (hah) - does the only thing he's made for in close-quarters. Attempting to body-check her like a four-hundred-pound train.
Khaelanna glares angrily at Oliver.
Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*
Oliver gives a low laugh. "Ah w-wonder ha' many bodies you-" He's interrupted as he retches up more black. So instead he casts. Tendrils of unholy reach into the ground to pull up what they can- apparently there's something, because one old weatherbeaten corpse rises. Oliver falls to his knees from the effort of the cast. His minion attacks.
Below their feet the ground near the mage begins to glow with blinding Twilight power, drawing life from those remaining within it. If caught within Neptulon's Fist you will feel your arms and legs turn frigid and your heart slow, as cold grips you. As their hearts slow, they feel fear grip them: they -must- break loose or the Fist might drag you into Death's domain! Only the most determined of fighter possesses the will to escape its penetrating grasp!
Llew leaps away at the last second, but is still knocked off his feet and hits the sand.
Oliver can't really avoid much. He's gripped. Thankfully, he's already dead and doesn't seem too bothered by the paralytic cold.
Nialos rages forth from the icy tomb, breaking off shards of ice, his eyes glaring daggers at the spider. His blade swings in a massive arc, aiming for legs, chest, anything.
Llew rises from the sand, sprinting forth with the intent to bodycheck Anna back into the dirt.
Marìus' better powers turn inwards. Focus-- Soft light. Oliver, goddess-bless: GET BACK ON YOUR FEET-! The spell is flung and cast, meant to energize his brutally savaged wounds.
Oliver is on his back. He can't move. He can hardly think. But now he's energized. He reels around to face Khaelanna. "YOU COME T' ME." He shoots out a death grip, pulling her to where he's locked in place and sends another plated fist into the side of her head.
Apophan yells: SHSSSSRRRARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"Darkness will consume you and all Denouncers! You will fail and never see daylight again! The Gods have returned and the destruction of your world is imminent! For me and the Faithful, we choose ASCENDANCY!!" Khaelanna laughs at Oliver.
Oliver retches black again. His entire body is shaking.
Nialos says: Oliver. Hold it together.
Wilhiém 's eyes roll back as he coughs, spits, and lets out obscenities.
Nialos says: We're almost done.
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