Barcea, Southwestern Region
Drosil, Shadar, Sir Mauls, & JoyIn the distance Joy could hear the sound of what she could only imagine to be a hundred miniature horses stampeding towards the village. She rose her head, wiping the moisture from her cheeks with a dirty glove that left a streak of ash in its wake. A small cloud of dust rose in the sky, but unless the H'kelan forces had found a way to shrink their soldiers it was safe to assume it was a single rider. The dust cloud was lost in the smoke of the smoldering village. Joy's first thought was to grab her flask. She pulled it into reach with her scabbard, tucking the ashy canteen into her belt as she tried to clamber to her feet so she could greet the stranger on her own terms with arrow drawn. Her knee counter-offered that idea with a suggestive argument that, when boiled down to its finer points, stated “If you stand up I'll make you wish you were dead.” Joy seceded to her knee's wishes; on the post she sat, out in the open and defenseless.
Unfortunately for the downtrodden woman, perhaps it would have been better for her to go against her knee's howling. Metallic bolts of fire shot overhead, reminding her of battles long settled and making her chest swell with a vile contempt and, perhaps, a distant longing. Back when she was in her prime, Joy had been able to show many-a-mages that, despite all their dusty tome studying and complicated hand gestures, they still reacted the same way any regular man did when stuck with a blade or pierced by an arrow. She wasn't as quick now, and helplessly sat and watched as the flaming sentinels cut off her exit. Their eyes cast judgment upon her for a crime that, for once since she had fled her old life, she had not commit. She had seen a spell similar to this one before, and knew that as long as she kept her distance these sentinels were harmless enough.
Not so harmless, however, was the enraged wizard flanked by a deathcrawler stomping through the ash towards her, although it would be more accurate to say that the ash was stomping away from him as the swirling typhoon of magic around him kicked the dust away. Some landed on Joy's boots as the distance between the two closed. Any regular person would probably be terrified by the thought of being surrounded by flaming guardians, a massive bug, and a glowing mage, but Joy stood (or rather sat) her ground as Drosil demanded answers. All of this pageantry reminded her of how somebody else worked: show a little, tell a lot, and pray that they don't see the crippled bandit behind the curtain. She stared down the man's blank eyes as he told her of the way his creature would devour her. Not an inch of fear was on her face despite the creatures looming overhead. She decided that if being lunched on by Sir Mauls was her fate at least she would be of some use before she died.
“You should stop there,” said Joy, her voice quiet and low but exuding confidence. She made no threatening movement, yet gave off the appearance that she was neither impressed nor pleased by the man's extravagant entrance. Her eyes judged the distance between the two; if she forced her body she could probably get within striking range to gut him before his bug had a snack. Still, she'd rather not be worm food.
“Actually, you should take a step or two back. If you think I'm somehow responsible for all of this,” she gestured lazily to the destruction around them, “then you're dumber than you look. Now, I have my suspicions as to who's responsible, but why does my opinion matter?” She kept her eyes on the mage and the deathcrawler, ready to strike if need be. Hopefully getting him talking would distract him from his prying questions and let her gain a sense of if she'd be walking away from this. “Why do you even care? You seem more out of place here than I do.”
"Why do I- LOOK AROUND YOU!!!!" He roared out, gesturing to the devastation and carnage all around them. The bodies, once living breathing people with hopes, with dreams, with lives, and this woman had the nerve to ask him why he should care. "I don't have to be from Barcea to understand that this is wrong, that this is horrible, and that whoever did it and who ever helps them get away with should be killed with no exceptions."
He pointed his staff at her again, speaking a single word spell, the orb glowing a bright Topaz as a spike of earth suddenly pierced through earth right in front of Joy, the point stopping just before her face. Joy blinked as the earth jutted towards her, ash and dirt smacking against her skin. The rage on his face was clear to see, and he wanted this woman to be sure that he could take her out if she didn't co-operate and with little hesitation. And in case she got any ideas, he pulled out his gun, cocked and loaded, the barrel pointed directly at her. She had been down the barrel of such a weapon a number of times before. His intent was clear enough.
"Now, I"m only going to ask you one more time. What happened here and were you apart of it? Tell me everything you know and leave not a single word out of it, or you'll find yourself gargling on your own blood before I have my friend her finish you off." Deep down inside of his mind, a voice was telling Drosil that he need to calm down, to pull himself back from the brink of insanity and to his happy place, but his rage was too great to allow for such action. He couldn't think right now, not logically, not sympathetically, not even on a primal survival instinct. It was all overtaken by an unyielding rage that roared in his chest.
Joy decided that perhaps it would be best to not shake the hornet's nest by mocking his sense of justice or by explaining to him that this is how things are in this world. At least not until later when they were on fair footing and she could properly defend herself if need be. However, with her being outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and outgunned she knew that her only real option was compliance. She slid over slightly so the stalagmite was no longer against her chin and returned Drosil's angry gaze with a cold stare of her own.
"Okay," she finally spoke with a sigh, her stare softening as her voice returned to its more natural, aristocratic cadence. "If you take a moment to stop rubbernecking the dead it becomes obvious who would most likely be responsible for this. This wasn't a bandit attack, clearly. Bandits would probably kill a few people, torch a building, but they would leave most of the village intact so they could strike a few months later. The intent here also wasn't just pure destruction. Like you said, you aren't even from Barcea and you want these people dead. How do you think their actual countrymen will react? This is an enticement."
"But since you need me to spell it out for you," she said quickly. "I would guess that this was an act of aggression H'kela. Probably a small armored squad that could strike quickly and lethally. Look at the footprints; their heaviness suggests armored troops. Besides, their King has been hungry for a war since the Queen held out the olive branch over ten years ago." Joy cleared her throat. "Of course, this is all just speculation; I arrived here after the damage was done. If was apart of this I would either be one of the dead or several leagues away by now. So lower your weapon," she said, her voice assertive and commanding, "or get it over with."
Drosil couldn't say anything at first, looking at the woman with an unreadable expression, muttering under his breath as the orb began to take on a green glow. However, instead of blasting it at her, he whipped it around, sending a large sphere of compressed air to go hurtling into some wreckage, sending up a plume of ash and debris into the air. He would continue to do this for another minute or so, taking out his anger on his surroundings like a petulant child. Once it had all faded to a manageable simmer, he let out a deep breath, than began to mutter a deep chant, the sphere glowing a bright silver as he did so.
While this happened, Sir Maul's gaze never left Joy, the eager twitching of his mandibles and claws making it abundantly clear that he wanted the woman to make a run for it. He wasn't just a mount right now, but a predator looking for prey and the instant she made any sudden move would be the moment he charged in to end her. She might be able to stab him somewhere vital before he managed to grab her, might even be able to keep him from biting anything important, but thanks to her lack of heavy armor their was little chance of the bite not piercing her skin and then the venom would finish her off, slowly numbing her body until their was hardly anything she could due but lay down and wait to die. It would be a rather a awful way to go.
Joy had just shook her head as Drosil threw his tantrum. He was undisciplined; clearly his parents, if he even had any, did not intend for him to master his magic--or at least that was the impression Joy got. In a strange way, it reminded her of when she was a girl. Although instead of magic, she was teaching herself how to fight with a sword, and instead of throwing hissy fits for a crippled woman she was proving herself in duels against insulted nobles. Perhaps it just reminds me of being a child then, thought Joy as Drosil continued to wreck havoc on the already destroyed buildings. Her eyes glanced over to Sir Mauls; in a way, it looked like he gave her a curt nod that told her to just try and run. Clearly then it would be best to sit and watch. Slumping forward into her palms, she pushed her hair out of her face with a dirtied glove and continued observing the man holding her hostage go through his one man minstrel show.
Once Drosil had finished the chant, he slammed the butt of his staff into the ground, causing the silver energy to cascade into the earth, slipping between the ashes and soil like water. Within seconds, piles of earth could he seem rising from the ground, formulating into a group of earth golems, these ones being made of soil and dirt and being of average strength and durability. Workers to do what you couldn't do alone or just found unpleasant. What Drodil had in mind filled both categories.
"You have enough energy implanted in you to last a week, spend that time digging graves and burying the dead. These people deserve that much at least."
The golems, a total of 13, left to proceed with their given task, and he tried to follow. Unfortunately, the ground had other ideas, rushing up to meet him with a solid thud. Pain was all he could feel right now,a dull burning that signaled that his body had become drained from using too much magic at one time. He needed to rest, but he couldn't leave the woman alone. It was dangerous for both him, Sir Mauls, and her if she tried to run for it. So with his last vestige of conscious thought, he focused on darkness, on the night, and on a big hulking figure with haunting white eyes.
It began slowly at first, a ring of shadow that circled his body, but soon began to converge upon him in a seething mass of blackness, any and all light to be consumed by it's gulltinous coils. After ten seconds pass, the darkness dispersed, and a large figure lifted itself off the ground. It stood at around 7ft in height, a large body wrapped in a thick scale armor that looked much too natural, filled with sinuous curves and spikes that couldn't be forged by the hands of man. At his waist lay a thick belt, holding two standard shortswords, curved and with a single edge to ensure maximum slashing efficiency. Upon his back, however, was a beautiful weapon that seemed to be made of living shadow, the metal's surface seeming to pulse, breath, and writhe the longer one looked at it. It was a greatsword, double edged with a wide blade that tapered down to a razor sharp point, the handle bearing a similarly dark coloration.
All in all, it made for quite the intimidating figure, and as he turned around, his eyes where but a sea of darkness with two haunting pools of still whiteness. The monsterous man would stand there for a while, looking down at the fragile woman and not saying a word. Joy, who had been staring intently as the man had shifted forms, found herself quickly breaking his gaze when their eyes crossed. His face was hidden behind a helmet-like crest, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking. He simply just stared for the longest time before finally chose to speak, his voice deep and booming like thunder.
"Don't make a run for it, or else Sir Maul's will catch you. You don't want that." The creature clattered behind the figure, as if to add emphasis to his point. She would notice that with Drosil replaced by whoever this was, the fire guardian's had left, but his warning wasn't one to be ignored. If she looked back at him, she's see that he'd pulled out a notebook and pencil from his belt bag and had begun to draw something, holding the delicate instrument gently and skillfully between his clawed fingers. If she walked over to see his work, warning little more than a wrong hiss from Sir Mauls if she moved slow enough, she'd see that it was her that he was in the process of drawing.
But Joy made no such move. She had thought the mage had cast some sort of illusion spell, something to make him seemingly more intimidating, but her gut told her otherwise. This was something completely different, something that possibly wasn't even human. Still, even with his appearance effectively shaking her resolve she couldn't help but smile and even chuckle at the humanoid's insistence that she tried not to run. The last time she had tried running anywhere she had woken up the next morning in some ditch covered in mud with her knee howling in pain and her head ringing from a hangover. Currently, she was dangerously on the edge of complete coherence, and knew very well that even if she gave the deathcrawler the slip she would still end up regretting it. The smile faded away. It had been a while since Joy had something to drink.
Just don't think about it, she thought, as a chill ran through her body. Her eyes fell on the pencil in the thing's clawed hand. Was it really just drawing?
"So," said Joy, her voice cracking slightly under stress and frustration, "since I have been compliant with you I am now to be your hostage? I would hardly call that fair, but it's your prerogative." Keeping one eye on the deathcrawler, she stretched out across the post and propped up her good leg as she slid her hands beneath her head to keep her hair out of the ash. "We'll just stay here forever until one of us breaks." She had little doubt in her mind that, without quenching her thirst, she would probably be the first to crack. "Fine, whatever..."
"I honestly don't care much for whether you're my hostage or not, but I'd rather not have Sir Mauls rip you limb from limb. If my brother hadn't been an irresponsible idiot, than you'd be on your merry way on that bum leg of yours." Shadar sighed, looking at Sir Mauls and noting with some relief that he was starting to calm down, if only a tad. As long as no unknown people came in here, then the beast should be able to calm down with the next few minutes.
Of course, if someone did come in and panicked, then we'd have ourselves a clusterfuck of violence, with somebody killing somebody else. Dammit, Drosil, why can't you think ahead for once instead of acting on your fucking righteous impulses! "Instead, I'm stuck here making sure you don't die. As for seeing who breaks first, you're much more likely to do so then I am."
Shadar could sense her frustration and slightly stressed mental state, but he doubted she'd do anything drastic as long as everything remained calm. He was right. Even though he had struck a nerve by calling her out and even implying that he was doing a favor, she knew it would be best to just stay put—especially when being kept under watch by a riled deathcrawler and a clearly batty shapeshifter. Whether said calm could be kept when more people entered the mix was hard to say, given that Cyril was likely to come here to investigate his brother's tantrum.
"Also, just so you know, some Sentinels will be here soon. So whether that's good news or bad news, at least your informed," said Shadar.
“Best thing I've heard out of you...or your, uh, brother,” said Joy.
Neziul,
Antlers,
CassidyTheButch,
ML,
Simply Not Real,
Cosmic,
NoriWasHere,
Blizz,
Passable Writer,
Evil Ghost Note
