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TruckKun
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Enemy Lineup - ☠️
A . . Unexpected . Quest There are many settlements hidden within the extensive and entangled forests of Tempestua’s north. Tribes painstakingly cling to their old ways and thanks both to their isolation and the cooperation of the Fenris leadership, they’ve for the most part, been able to keep their cultures and territories intact. But with each year that passes, knights and settlers from the West push deeper into the Fenris borders, clearing rows upon rows of trees with axes and fire in order to place more foundations for towns and cities under the Mage King’s rule. This reality was well-known to a tribe that lived alongside the Wind Fae (sylphs) and worked with these spirits of the air to conceal their village not only with trees and vine, but with the elements themselves. The current windspeaker of Andvidr was an old matriarch with spindly arms and legs, long grayed hair, and a sunken face clinging to life out of sheer spite— Krumholz. She sat in her rocking chair at the roots of a massive tree set at the village’s center with a long wooden smoking pipe set between her teeth. In the distance she saw her granddaughter practicing her dancing, and around her the small translucent green spirits flew around with her movements. Each swing of her arms beckoned the sylphs to fly away, and every twirl drew them closer, summoning a small cyclone of cold wind around her. “Eir, jump every once ‘n a while.. ye’ll fly!” Krumholz shouted down to her. Ever since Eirún could remember, she had an unusual affinity with the sylphs. Where some found it difficult to deal with fae, Eirún effortlessly played along with the ones who were considered to be the most whimsical and mischievous, the Sylphs. They despised being ordered about and often mocked those who humbly lowered their heads and sought their favor. The secret to dealing with the sylphs, aside from being a child beloved by the fae like Eirún, was to simply feel the wind, letting it embrace and guide you, following one's pure instincts. Because they loved and valued freedom above all else, showing oneself to be just as free was one of the best ways to earn their attention. To many of the old blood people who lived in Andvidr, those were lessons they learned as they were introduced to wild magic. For Eirún, those were almost second nature. While there was a part that was due to Eirún having a unique talent, most of it was thanks to her grandmother, the windspeaker, who was the first to notice her granddaughter's gift and always encouraged and guided her. Thanks to that, Eirún grew up to have a very close bond with her, despite her position of importance. Besides the Sylphs, her grandmother was the only one who accepted her muteness and, like the sylphs themselves, always seemed to know what she was thinking. Hearing her grandmother's voice as she watched her from her rocking chair, Eirún glanced towards her, nodding her head with a smile. Jumping with the aid of the sylphs wasn't new to her, but she had never tried going beyond twice her height, worried that landing might prove to be more difficult than getting off the ground. It took her a moment for her to gather courage, as she continued dancing along with the Sylphs, as they moved almost as if playfully bumping into her, encouraging her. After finally finding her resolve, Eirún stepped forward with a determined expression. Starting with long, graceful jumps, she first felt the wind gently caressing her hair as her feet left the ground for a brief moment. On the third time, she crouched for an instant before jumping up, spinning her body. With her eyes closed, Eirún felt the Sylphs move along with her in the air, spinning as the wind carried her upwards. For a few seconds, Eirún felt almost as if it was a bit hard to differentiate herself from the wind. As she fell, panic settled in for a moment. Despite the relatively slow falling speed, Eirún still lost her balance, falling on her back as she landed. The sylphs scattered, almost as if giggling along with Eirún herself, silently giggling on the ground, looking at the trees towering above Andvidr. “Atta’ girl, keep ‘t up and ye’ll be our next speaker.” Krumholz chimed as she watched her granddaughter take to the air and floated back down clumsily. Another villager, only a bit younger than Krumholz garbed in green leather dressings approached the windspeaker. She bowed to Krumholz before looking to Eir with a smile upon her face. “There were sightings of a mage knight escorting western merchants t’ Summerhail.” “And?..” The village elder asked. “We were able t’ steer them away from th’ forest, none were wounded but th’ knight marked a location on his map.” “What did ‘e look like? We’ll have t’ keep an eye out for ‘m— thank ye’ Hilde.” The windspeaker gave a shallow bow of her head to the villager before slowly peeling herself out of the rocking chair and making her way to Eir with a smile on her face. Eirún continued playing with the sylphs, curiously watching every now and then from the distance, watching her grandma talking with another one of the villagers. While she knew her grandma had many responsibilities as a windspeaker and that most of them weren't really things she should worry about, Eirún sometimes could tell whenever her grandma had received bad news or not just by watching her expression and the expression of whoever came to talk to her. This time, she couldn't tell much though. While definitely not anything good, it didn't seem to be bad enough to warrant a readable reaction from her grandma. By the time her grandma had finished talking and stood up, both Eirún and the sylphs seemed to be more invested in trying to eavesdrop into their conversation than dancing and playing. Due to that, when they noticed her grandma getting up the rocking chair and heading towards them, they immediately scattered, trying to pretend they were still just playing around. “Eir, little dandelion.. would ye’ like to help keep the village safe?” As the village elder reached her granddaughter, the woman would reach into one of the pockets of her dressings to pluck out a small green gemstone. It was carved into a strange spiral shape smooth to the touch and at the center a small hole was poked into it. The stone was called The Storm’s Eye, and while it wasn’t by itself a magical relic of repute, to the people of Andvidr it was a sacred tool used to guide sylphs to their forest for safety. Fae were being sapped of their aura more and more every year, causing most of them to flee from more populated areas, some even began to turn against the men and the dwarves to protect themselves. But this gemstone, older than the tribe itself, could steer the wind fae they were so fond of to a place where they could protect them. Krumholz extended it out to her granddaughter. As her grandmother approached, Eirún looked up curiously at the question. Though she was still a little worried about the talk her grandma just had, she nodded enthusiastically, hugging her. The village was her home, after all and she loved it, the forest and her grandmother, who was responsible for keeping them safe and hidden. Taking a few steps back, she watched as her grandmother reached into one of her dress pockets and produced a small, shining, green gemstone. Enthralled by its beauty and complex design, she seemed to almost instantly forget her previous worries. When it was offered to her by her grandma, Eirún couldn't help but look a bit confused. While undeniably pretty, it was clearly something precious, far from a toy or something a child should have… Especially since she had seen it a few times before... Always being carried with utmost care by either her grandma or by other respected elders. Gently taking the jewel with both hands, almost excessively careful not to drop it, she looked at her grandma once again, unsure why she would give her something so precious and apparently important. "Th' speaker of our sister village.. out 'n the mountains of Haldr." Krumholz reached out with both hands to squeeze Eir’s hands around the stone. ”She was killed ‘nd the other Eye, stolen. W’ need you t’ leave with that stone, ye’ can return one day, but not ‘til it is safe again.” A sad smile bathed in warmth began to spread across her grandmother’s face. ”One day, we can return both o’ the Eyes to where they belong. After we make certain th’ Sylphs, as many as w’can save, have been rescued. But ‘ts gonna take years m’ little Dandelion. So w’need ya’ ya’ go and keep it safe.” | . |  Andvidr, Southwestern Forests of Fenris Some Time Ago - The village where Sylphs find refuge. ................................................................. |
Reprieve After Bloodshed @Yankee@xAlter@13org@Theyra@Taka@Exit@Andreyich The bloodbath continued, and ever more did fate push in the favor of those that fought against these Western knights that intruded upon the North. With the young nobleling mage having been swiftly dispatched, three western knights now had the numbers greatly against them. Eirún's attack was effective enough at disabling Goldchain, knocking him further off-balance and leaving the assailant no time to gather aura or perform any sort of magic - it was rapidly turning into a one-sided battle. Another bolt fired by Aslan would connect with the man's armor, each one causing further and further underlying damage to the already wounded man.. it almost seemed as if he was about to speak and cast a spell with some incantation of his voice but the bolt's damage collectively shut the man down giving him no opportunity to deflect or dodge. He gritted his teeth as crimson streamed down his arms and flooded into the tunic beneath the armor, the knight would need to flee and return with reinforcements at this point. But unfortunately for Goldchain, it was not fated to be. Off-balance, wounded, and looking for an opportunity to disengage from the carnage in order to return with more Western forces left Goldchain vulnerable. While his eyes darted from left to right in search for a clear path into the forests surrounding them, Illaria had already closed the distance between herself and the knight, decisively slashing at a weak point behind the man's legs and painting the snow beneath him with hot blood from the opening of his tendons. Goldchain's eyes glossed over as enough blood loss left the circulation of his body, dropping him face first into the snow as consciousness escaped him.. and then soon after that did his life. Two enemy combatants had fallen in the floes of battle, two remained. Goldtooth who had been the closest to the epicenter of the battle was pinned down the wolf, getting sniped by Soren off in the distance, and Nika had just separated from his skirmishing with what was seeming to be [undead?] to square up to the hulking man and hewed his axe down into the man's arm cutting deeply through the plate and scaled leather underneath. Were it not for the thick plate Goldtooth wore, the arm would've been severed straight through, but it was more than enough to disable the man's defense and thwart any chance of the man wielding his second sword. Goldtooth was now held by a wolf on one arm, and held a grisly wound on the other, what else could go wrong? ”I'm taking one of you mutts down with me.” A giant woman, that's what. Goldtooth would in a surge of adrenaline swipe out with the arm that the wolf had sunk its teeth into towards Alessia causing the canine to unlatch and backpedal at a cautious distance, and the wolf's eyes widened as it watched the berserking barbarian ignore the fruitless defense of punches towards her and marveled as she picked Goldtooth up by his head. Heat radiated from her body as her fist drew back and launched forward like a piston making contact with a steel drum. A metallic brrrrrung echoed like a gong as Goldtooth was sent flying backward before tumbling, scraping, and rolling through the earth and stone. The man was seemingly still alive as shallow breaths caused the brawniest of the knight's chest to rise with each pained exhale. Broken chain and split plates fell from the man's torso, revealing a metallic section of skin where Alessia had collided with him and dark purple and deep red bruising could be seen surrounding the point of impact -- it was likely some form of defensive magic the knight's family had access too. The last to remain was the wounded, but seemingly unphased Silent Knight. Crippled by both Nika and Siegfried, the wounded figure was brought down with grace by the Mage Hunter and anchored to the ground in fluid motion. The pact knight had already conveyed the knowledge that something strange was going on with the suit of armor that did not speak, and Siegfried's axe tearing open a hole in the knight's armor only created more questions. Putrid stench exhumed from the open cavity created the dragon-eyed man, and as the lifeless puppet's strings tugged and contracted to make its arms reach out for Siegfried.. a palpable buzz of bloodsoaked aura filled the air, foul, dark magic, reviled by some even in the West. Brigitte had watched Goldtooth be launched away like a ragdoll, the magnet mage crumble to the floor in a pool of gore, and the head of the noble go rolling through the snow, all that was left was the Silent Knight that had been rendered immobile. The mention of it being reanimated dead sparked an instinctual movement of the woman, darting pass Nika that had rushed to defend her, directly beside Siegfried with the rimeglass blade clenched tightly in her hand. Her darkened eyes looked down at the body being manipulated by some malevolent mage likely far-far away in some castle or keep in a different region -- with nothing but pity. She was worried to see what poor man had been turned into a marionette beneath the plate and chain. "Hold 'm..." She tiredly muttered out under her breath. "I've dealt with one 'o these before." Brigitte knelt down and began to unbuckle clasps that held the plate together, adjusting and fiddling as the undying writhed and wriggled to break free. Eventually the breastplate would come loose to reveal a torso cleanly severed at the waist with no legs beneath it. Sickly lavender threads of aura stretched out from frayed skin and rotten flesh that interconnected where the legplates and boots were left hollow. These threads rippled every so often which caused a convulsion, moving a leg or a foot, an arm or a hand. Whenever a particularly strong action occurred where Siegfried would have to strain to keep the cadaver down, the lavender would darken and old coagulated blood would travel along those strings turning them red. Brigitte's eyes traced where the threads lead, to the aura core of this once living person that barely pulsed anymore, where his heart may have once been. The scion of Fenris drew her rimeglass blade towards the aura core, pushing it slowly through the skin and flesh at the sternum and slowly the glow of those threads would begin to fade. Faint red, and then an almost unseen lilac hue, before the threads vanished completely to put whatever soul was forced to fight on past their death at rest. A small frown drooped along Brig's lips as her emotions fought against the beating of her heart, straining to contain the bestial outrage clamoring in her mind. She slashed her teeth, bit her tongue, and once all of the aura had been rendered inert within the Silent Knight's body, she would quickly pull it out.. wiping the old blood along the snow before returning it to the scabbard above her ass. "Check their bodies, take what y' want - what ya' need - and if any o' them live make sure 't stays that way so we can interrogate 'em." She lingered there for a moment. Scanning the growing number of unfamiliar faces with a distant look on her face, and then she looked to the white wolf that had made its way over to her. Her bloodied hand would extend out to the hound, allowing him to lick the freshly drawn blood from knuckles and fingertips. The subtlest of a smirk would begin to crawl its away across her lips before an open hand came down to pat along the wolf's head. "We'll need t' think of a name for ya' ... Wolf's going t' get old." Brig made her way directly back to Nika, crooking her head around to examine him for damage like a mother hen inspecting one of its chicks. Her chapped lips pursed before spitting down to the snow and beaming a smile pinkened by the blood in her mouth. "No casualties, th' Speak is lookin' after us." Those words were followed by an uncanny laugh, a guffaw even, loud and exasperated all the same as the woman's legs kicked out from beneath her so that she could sit and absorb the circumstances for some time. What was most unexpected though, were the suddenly rising of golden motes of aura floating out from both Goldchain and Goldilock's bodies. The small translucent glimmers of energy in the air might've been mistaken for fireflies or tiny fae floating out from the earth, but close inspection would have you find that it was unmistakably raw aura leaving the deceased knights bodies, freed from whatever greater consumption they had partaken in. | . | Outside of Blackpebble / Eastruin Road Morning --------------- COMBAT ENDS [Skill Points Awarded] +1 (Siegfried) +1 (Eirún) +1 (Aslan) ................................................................. |
