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"Marine Squad Deployed"

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In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 1 mo ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



The adrenaline had faded by now from their previous encounters with the corpse-men and wraith-things, and Nabi felt it as she followed the rest of her new-found party. A wave of tiredness had encompassed her, mixed with a small amount of nausea from the smell of the corpses that had only really just taken hold after the adrenaline had worn off, both from those that had been subject to a thorough roasting by means of fire and lightning - burning flesh and hair had such a wonderful aroma, after all - and those that had merely had their innards - and doubtless whatever they had last had to eat - exposed to the open air. The smell of smouldering cloth added a faintly acrid aftertaste to the cavalcade of rottenness. She was no stranger to foul smells, with the ashlands of the east having all manner of vile stenches and putrid odours emanating from within the bowels of the earth, but it never got any easier to strengthen one's stomach against such things.

There was now talk between the various people, with mentions of divines, taint, and an angel to boot, all of which set Nabi positively ill-at-ease, with no small amount of trepidation now occupying her mind - and perhaps a bit of fear. Her inexperience with matters of corpse-men and wraith-things had already been exposed for the rest of the people to see, and now they were talking of fighting divines and angels? What was she to do, trust that this silver sword - that she had only just acquired - was capable of dispatching a divine? Or were they planning on bombarding their opponent with a constant barrage of magic - assuming that these divines were even susceptible to mortal magic that is - and praying that it would be sufficient? Questions began circling in her head, questions that she had no answer to, questions that she wanted to speak aloud but feared mockery from her new companions-

No. Enough fretting. There had to be some way of dealing with whatever was ahead of them. She had yet to find a foe, inexperience aside, that would not fall to spell and swordcraft, even if it was a divine. She refocused herself on the conversation in time for the cyclops black-eye - no, nightwalker, she corrected herself - to speak in his gruff tone.

“The Melenian is dead. This is a trap.”

You mean another trap, surely? Nabi was about to open her mouth to respond, but the female deigan had already had taken that chance - and it was probably for the best, as they definitely seemed to know what they were talking about. They mentioned empty vials, something called piaan - Nabi vaguely had heard of this, it was some drug that magicians used - and "thalks" and "frentits". From the context, if nothing else, Nabi assumed that the "thalk" was whatever they were preparing to face next, and the "frentits" were probably the wraith-things that had inhabited the carpets, tables, corpse-men, and other such delights that they had already dispatched. Had the Mellen-whatever summoned this thalk to defend themselves from the witch-hunters with silvered swords? It didn't seem unlikely. "Well, at least somebody has told me what has been happening. I was starting to think I would never get that explanation." Nabi gave a wry snicker.

"We are wasting time and there are still the bandits to deal with.”

Of course. The bandits were still out there... and if this "thalk" was stronger than all of the previous things - no, frentits, use the proper term, she reminded herself - then there would be no small amount of effort and energy expended as a result. Nabi figured she'd at least chime in with her own opinion... everyone else had done so, after all.

"One issue at a time. If this... thalk? Yes, thalk... If the thalk is stronger than anything we have yet dealt with, we should not overstretch, even if it means the bandits have to wait their turn. If it helps your thoughts, I am quite good at tracking?" Nabi offered as reassuring a smile as she could muster.
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 4 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



The ghoul's momentum had carried it onto the tip of her blade, but to her surprise it was somewhat more forceful than she had anticipated, and the ghoul had come somewhat closer than Nabi had initially planned, in spite of her two weapons that both remained firmly jammed in the corpse-man's head and torso, respectively. The ghoul's frantic flailing and gnashing of teeth was all that occupied her mind for a brief moment or two, before an armoured gauntlet - belonging to the older of the humans - reached over the corpse-man's shoulder, took hold of the ghoul's torso itself and wrenched the corpse-man away from her, also giving Nabi the chance to, with a growl of effort, rip her dagger and sabre free from where they were both lodged in the corpse, before stumbling backwards slightly - bumping into something as she did so. The knight threw the ghoul to the ground, before caving in its skull with a single crushing blow from his own truncheon, followed by another blow to the ribcage. Blood, fragments of bone and pulped brain matter and flesh exploded from the corpse and splattered across the ground. Nabi cursed in Erashyiric under her breath, wishing her sabre was a little less dependent upon finesse and more suited for rough, physical encounters, but no doubt it would serve against anything that wasn't effectively a corpse being puppeted by something from beyond.

Nabi had only just realised the younger man - Jordan, as he introduced himself - had put out an arm behind her to catch her - and it was that she had stumbled back into. She fought back the urge to make a quip about falling for a younger man, and instead nodded to him and mouthed Thank you, in gratitude. The older knight spoke up as he dealt the finishing blow. "They fight until disrupted or fully disassembled. Taking an arm off is just a scratch."

Nabi, finally taking the time to breathe a heavy sigh of relief as the adrenaline began to fade, steadied herself back on her feet. The older one wasn't to know that total dismemberment was mostly what she'd planned to do, but it couldn't hurt to say so. "That was the intention, sir, but it came at me a little fast. Appreciate the assistance... apparently a foot of steel isn't quite the leverage I thought it was." She looked down at herself, checking for any sign of injury that she hadn't noticed thanks to the adrenaline, before realising that in the meantime, the knight had thanked her - for dealing with the blanket-thing, she assumed. "Heh. Even now? One blanket-thing for one corpse-man?" Nabi wiped the blood and remains of the corpse-man's eye from her dagger and sheathed it behind her, but kept her sabre at the ready in case of any more trouble. The knight spoke up again, "Silver ignores magic. That's why they use those."

He was evidently referring to the silvered swords the now decidedly-ex witch hunters had been carrying. Meanwhile, the younger lad was offering her a truncheon, probably after witnessing the somewhat messy encounter earlier. Nabi shook her head. "No, but thank you. I'd prefer one of those swords, if I have to take something - don't like using heavy cudgels as weapons, even if they are apparently useful against magical creatures." She glanced over to the other set of stairs, where the third sword lay, before wiping her sabre clean on some smouldering cloth nearby and jogging over to pick the third sword up. Immediately, Nabi prepared herself to change her swordplay - the sword was longer, heavier and definitely clumsier than she was used to, but it would suffice.

If necessary, she could always use two hands...
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 4 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



Despite having prior warning - what with having specifically instructed the wraith's end, Nabi still flinched as the cacophonous clattering that marked the end of the pottery-wraith's physical existence at the hands of the young human's iron bludgeons rang in her ears, as ceramic and iron clashed in a very one-sided encounter. Though she did not see the wraith's seeming acceptance of its fate, doubtless it would have brought a humourless smile to her face. To her left, the wraith was smashed apart, the iron clubs crushing any material they impacted into little more than powder, and the iron de-stabilising the wraith to the point of non-existence... Nabi watched as shards of now-inert pottery flew past her ineffectually, with the occasional sherd impacting with her arm and leg and falling harmlessly to the ground, bereft as they were of any major force to even so much as scratch Nabi's clothing or cloak, let alone the hardened leather cuir bouilli of Nabi's armour. The carving fork that the wraith had attempted to skewer her with also flew past her and embedded itself into the ruins of the table... which Nabi had only just realised were in fact still on fire from her earlier magical assault - as were the ruins of the blanket-wraith the older human had insisted that she make all effort to destroy before it smothered him in its warm embrace. No matter, the water-wielding feathered one would doubtlessly see to the quenching of both of those, surely, and in any case, she now had one more foe to deal with - the rather pathetic one-armed corpse-man that was still gamely raising its fist, in defiance of all reason and logic that would tell anyone else to run away when one is disarmed (in a very literal manner) and facing multiple armed opponents that probably outmatched your skills even if you had the weapon that was now lying uselessly on the floor.

Nabi locked eyes with the corpse-man for a fraction of a second, and was suddenly overcome with a wave of mirth at the ludicrousness of the corpse-man's situation. She smirked and gave a mocking shrug to the corpse-man, before readying her weapons once again - this one would fall to cold steel instead of arcane fire, after all - and moving in to finish the fight quickly. She took a couple steps forward, her main gauche in her left hand and sabre in her right, and with a single, swift motion, Nabi brought her sabre about her head and slashed at the ghoul's remaining arm, aiming to sever it at the shoulder in a single clean cut, before stepping forward and plunging her dagger into the corpse-man's eye, into the brain. With any luck, that would render the corpse-man harmless, and possibly disrupt the workings of whatever magic that fuelled its movements. Of course, failing that, she could always fall back on another blast of magical fire, but she was starting to wonder just how much energy she had to spend on dealing with these irritations - particularly given that according to one of their party, there was another, more powerful spirit still to reveal itself, somewhere in the building's western end, which would doubtlessly require even more effort to put down.

Summoners really were like neglectful child-minders.

Nabi made a mental note to berate the unfortunate soul responsible for all this mess when it was all over, as she delivered the slash to the corpse-man's shoulder...
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 5 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



Nabi could see the fragments of pottery moving and shifting about in the wraith's assumed form, but initially did not expect the wraith's attempt to hurl the fragments physically from its 'body' until almost too late. Instinctively, Nabi slashed with her main gauche at the fragment that had been thrown at her, and the blade connected with a resounding crack, shattering the fragment of pottery into little more than powdery residue, which fell to the floor, harmless. Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, Nabi noticed one of the humans - the elder - had begun tangling with two of the corpse-men that had been making their way down the stairs, followed by what was, for all intents and purposes, a living blanket. Nabi snarled with irritation... this little escapade with quasi-incorporeal creatures was already becoming slightly tiresome, and a living blanket was only adding to the frustration - she was far more capable against flesh-and-blood foes-

"Burn it."

The human's words - perhaps more of a command than he potentially meant them to be - were enough to snap Nabi out of her rising anger and temptation to use her sabre as a bludgeon against this collection of dinner plates and flowerpot sherds. Nabi nodded to the younger human, who seemed intent on continuing to fight the pottery-wraith, and uttered "Smash this one to pieces, I'll deal with the bundle of blankets." before once again switching her sabre to her slightly-encumbered-but-still-able-to-grip left hand, and began recanting and tracing the runes of the spell she had already used to deadly effect - and with any luck, she'd be able to catch one of the ghouls in the flames as well, lessening the burden on the human - though he probably already had the situation with the ghouls well under control. No sooner had she finished, than another torrent of magical flame erupted from Nabi's outstretched palm, roaring its way rapidly towards the bundle of blankets that was flopping its way down the stairs. In the back of Nabi's mind, anger bubbled away, and another snarl - of rage this time - escaped from her lips as she focused her energies towards the blankets. Any damage to Lady Bor's property be damned at this point - it was kill or be killed!
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 5 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



Nabi had no sooner ceased her spellcraft than a blinding flash of light engulfed her vision from the deigan's lightning spell; she gave an involuntary cry of distress and covered her eyes with her arm, but it was too late. Nabi staggered back for a moment, her head overwhelmed by pain from the sensory overload, and she fought to stay on her feet as she stumbled, her entire sense of place and perception in disarray. Though it barely lasted more than a second or two, Nabi was still recovering when a crash to her left heralded the arrival of more foes for them to deal with, as truly a strange sight to behold made its way through the double doors. A construct made entirely of plates and saucers, as well as broken pieces of the previous and sherds of pottery, wielding an odd combination of weapons indeed - a meat cleaver in the one hand and a carving fork in the other. It was initially rather comical, but the murderous intent of the construct quickly suppressed any humorous thoughts Nabi had on the matter - it was fully intending on trying to kill her, and whilst its movements were ungainly and poorly-coordinated, the distance between her and it was too short to contemplate another spell, especially after that bastard deigan had stunned her - regardless of how accidental it might have been - with his little lightning japery. Apparently the human knight had much the same idea, and had grumbled about how there were more enemies to fight - his tone all-but-demanding the deigan to stop wasting his energies on showy spellcraft dealing with an enemy that was already entirely handled to begin with.

Nabi forced herself to refocus. The construct was taking several steps in her direction, which prompted Nabi herself to withdraw at roughly the same pace towards the centre of the hall. She glanced around at everyone else, and was about to call for aid against this new threat, when the young human, perhaps seeing her in distress and about to call for support, rushed over with his truncheons. A wave of relief washed over Nabi... Good. Blunt force would be far superior to her sabre at dealing with an automaton of such construction, and the iron would have the advantage of disrupting the magical forces holding the damnable thing together, not to mention she could at least trust some of her newly-found companions to come to her assistance should she need it. Nabi glanced at the young human briefly, before deciding on a course of action. She would re-engage, and advance to meet the contact, and with any luck force the wraith to split its attention between the two of them, hopefully giving the young lad the chance to land a few crunching blows of his own with the truncheons. She switched her sabre back to her right hand, and drew her main gauche from behind her back, assuming a ready stance and keeping a watchful eye on both the cleaver and the carving fork, as Jordan made his move.
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay




Though someone had attempted to speak to her, Nabi had not responded. Instead, she had almost completely frozen in place. Whether it was through fear or indecision, it did not truly matter - she was all but seized with paralysis. In her defence, wraiths and other such summoned spirits were not common in Jevog Denûm - and they certainly were not anything that Nabisisstra had trained to fight whilst in service with either the Legions or the Expeditionary Troop; she was used to combating more mundane threats such as ore-lizards, lohks, or perhaps the occasional belagon or two, depending on the location of the expedition. Thus, though Nabi was mentally attempting to prepare herself for what to do, she had frozen, especially when one of their newly-formed party had entered the hall before them and had almost immediately been ambushed - and lifted from their feet - by what looked to Nabi to be a sentient conglomeration of water. What was she to do? The water now held her erstwhile-companion, after all, and though one of the knights had said something about magic being their best weapon, every instinct was screaming at her that throwing a fireball directly at said watery mass was perhaps not the best idea in the world when it came to ensuring the man's survival - especially in one piece. All of this was merely compounded by the strange feeling of dampening that had consumed Nabi (and she assumed the others) when she entered the premises, making accessing magical energy just that little more tiring - or at least time-consuming. The little spark of flame from her palm guttered out almost instantly as the dampening consumed it.

Her lack of knowledge - and lack of preparedness - was understandable from an exterior perspective, for any that knew of the Erashyir and how they wielded magic would know that the conjuration of wraiths - and other summoned beings from beyond - belonged to a school of magic that the Imperial Colleges had deemed 'heavily restricted' due to the potential danger of such magic either spiralling out of control (a concern which was very apt given the situation Nabi currently found herself in) or falling into the hands of those who would do ill with it. As a result, very few summoners - and necromancers - resided within the Empire, and fewer still served in the Legions, as their skills were mostly needed by the Colleges of Magic themselves to teach. This was a known problem, and source of constant grief between the Legions and the Colleges, as both needed mages, and were forever competing over recruits.

Moving back to the matter at hand, however, the situation was not much improved when, with Nabi was still rooted to the spot, another of her companions had charged forward also and brought down an iron truncheon upon said watery mass, which prompted it to drop its victim... almost directly into the waiting embrace of another spirit inhabiting the large rug that was on the floor of the hall. The indecision by now quickly gave way to panic, as Nabi realised that throwing a fireball was now an even worse option, as the only thing that was worse than a rug attempting to smother you, was probably a burning rug attempting to smother you. If the rug didn't kill you, the fire - either from the choking smoke, or from spreading from the rug to you - probably would. Nabi continued to stand almost completely stock still, observing the situation with a rising feeling of uselessness...
Yet all was not lost, for a host of iron spikes proceeded to impale the rug in multiple areas! From what Nabi could see, the rug - or rather, whatever was inhabiting it - subsequently loosened its grip on the unfortunate soul still stuck in its embrace, which likely would give them a chance to escape, and moreover, the mass of water had been all but dispelled when another iron club had smashed through it - probably disrupting whatever energies the wraith still possessed. The panic began to fade, and the words of the female deigan next to her snapped Nabi out of her fug of indecision.

“They have only magical bodies – use your magic or iron. I will keep you safe.”

Words of reassurance. Of someone who knew what they were up against, and who was convinced they'd triumph. The hold was broken.

Nabi nodded, seemingly recovering her senses and her ability to react. One of the knights ahead shouted something about a 'ghoul' in front of them, but from where Nabi stood, the situation seemed well in hand on that front, whilst the rug was being handled. Instead, she changed her attention to the other immediate threat - the strange, almost comical motion of the table and candleholder which were still animated. Nabi hesitated for a brief moment, before advancing into the hall, passing her sabre into her left hand, whilst simultaneously tracing runes in the air with her right - which considering the dampening, was more difficult than she had initially thought. Yet the task was clear, and her focus was razor-sharp - no impediment would stop her this time. She whispered "I hope Lady Bor forgives me the damage to her property..." under her breath, followed by the words of the spell, and then, with a shouted cry of "Iel!", Nabi thrust her hand forward, from the palm of which poured a torrent of magical flames that crashed into - and engulfed - the form of the mobile table and candleholder. Though it would likely result in severe damage to Lady Bor's furniture, Nabi really didn't see much alternative.

To make omelettes, sometimes you had to break a few eggs. Hopefully Lady Bor would at least understand that when a spirit was busy possessing your table and chairs, you might have no other choice but to destroy the physical form.

Hopefully.
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



Nabi, satisfied that she was no longer in imminent danger of being assaulted by the water mage, returned to her previous stance, with her sabre at the ready. In her left, a small glow was beginning to form in her palm - those familiar with magic would recognise it as the beginnings of a pyromancer's magics. Nabi had yet to determine precisely which spell she would conjure, but the energy was now on-hand, and ready for action. She felt a slight wave of discomfort wash over her as she did so - a familiar feeling by now - but one word stopped her cold.

Wraiths.

A shiver ran down Nabi's spine, and she fought back a feeling of immediate panic. She was... at best unused to fighting such beings, at worst almost a complete novice. Though she knew at least they were easily-disrupted by magic, that was only somewhat cold comfort when one was bearing down on you at the rate of knots and you were trying to stammer out a spell to avoid their wrath. She vastly preferred foes that weren't only mildly-inconvenienced by a sabre cut through their torso, but one rarely had the chance of picking your enemies - especially as a near-stranger in a foreign land such as she was. However, the critical elements were now known to Nabi: an as-of-yet-to-be-determined-number-but-at-least-four wraiths, and one summoner, who may well have either lost count of them in a blind panic (to be fair, being attacked by witch hunters does do that to a person, Nabi thought to herself), or worse, had lost control of them. Suffice to say, the latter option was distinctly less appealing to Nabi than the former, as at least a summoner could be talked down from a situation, whereas wraiths running wild meant that they would likely have to deal with each of them in turn, and deal with them permanently.

Well, as permanently as one could when it came to wraiths, anyway.

"The longer we wait, the more damage wraiths can do. We should move as soon as we're able... I'm ready if everyone else is."
As if to emphasise her point, a small ball of flame burst into life in Nabi's palm, radiating a small amount of heat, but harmless.
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


Nabisisstra supped from a cup, and sank back in the chair in which she sat, allowing her tired limbs to finally rest. The sweet red wine was a welcome relief indeed to her dry throat and palette, which had been used to little more than travel rations and boiled water for the last ten days or so, moving at considerable pace along what sufficed for a transportation network in Rodoria. She mulled over the differences between Rodoria and her home of the Amethyst Empire, far to the east, as she savoured the taste of one thing that at least both cultures shared... their taste for alcohol. The sight of horses and carts transiting broken and pitted dirt roads was indeed a far cry from the rail tunnels - and the magical engines hauling citizens and cargo - that linked her homeland's cities underneath the ashlands of Jevog Denûm, travel across the ash-blasted wastes being far too hazardous for ordinary folk to risk beyond the most desperate of circumstances... but then so too was the environment through which said roads twisted and turned. The common colour in Jevog Denûm had always been some form of grey, whether that be the colour of the stony mountainsides, the ashlands, or the turbulent skies above. Even her own kind often exhibited skin tones of some form of grey, though Nabi's own skin had been described as 'coal-black' on more than one occasion. Only when one delved beneath the surface did one enter into a world of different colours, of the cities of the Erashyir, nestled within the earth's safe embrace beneath the volcanoes and windstorms of the surface, but even then, the prevailing colours could still be harsh - reds and blacks comprising most of the shades used by Great Houses.

In Rodoria, things were very different. As Nabi had journeyed towards Borstown, she had borne witness to many different sights, sounds and even smells in the Rodorian countryside. By far the most common - and the ones that stuck in her mind - were the sights and sounds of peasant farmers and their families out in the fields, hacking away at their crop with sickles for the harvest, with carts and sacks of crops hauled by oxen, horses or other heavy draft animals back to rickety barns made of wood, with thatched straw roofs. Occasionally, Nabi entertained ideas of stopping in villages along the way and offering to help gather the harvest as a way of making a little coin on the side, but she thought better of it, especially in these times of uncertainty... and disease.

Ah yes. The disease.

Nabi took another drink of wine.

The locals called it "The Withering". An apt description, by all accounts - she had heard tales of folk being fine the one day, and then these foul, ugly splotches would appear on them seemingly overnight, and they would turn black upon applying even gentle pressure to the area, supposedly throwing the poor victim into howls of agony. People would waste away in their beds, turned from fine, strapping folk into barely-recognisable bags of bones in less than a week. There was no known cure, no way of knowing who would catch it next... if it was even possible to catch it in the first place. At least with a cold or cough, you knew that the bad air you breathed out could harm everyone else nearby, but with the Withering... it struck seemingly at random. A man in a household would be struck with the illness, but his wife and children, despite trying to care for him, would be spared... only for another person, perhaps half the street away who wasn't even aware of the first man's sickness to start with, to be struck down, without rhyme or reason. Outsiders were always the first suspicion in many villages - and Nabi could see the logic, even if she was often the target of such rumours, as often diseases tended to coincide with travellers arriving at some town or city. Nabi sometimes saw people looking at her with fear and distrust, whispering things behind hands or talking about her in hushed tones, thinking she couldn't hear them. The 'she-witch'. The 'foreigner'.

The 'Dark One'.

That last moniker followed her wherever she went in Rodoria, but even in Zerul, nobody would tell her the reason why. The most she'd been able to figure out in libraries - and overhearing conversations - was that there were old tales that abounded, of evil people who long ago dwelled in the ashlands of Jevog Denûm... but nothing else. Did the Rodorians think she was one of those evil people? Were those evil people the 'Dark Ones', and because she, too, had come from the ash wastes, that they thought she was one of them returned? If so, why did they not simply attack her-

The harsh tone of a ringing bell from somewhere in Borstown brought Nabi out of her thoughts. Immediately, and without even thinking, she jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain from her weary limbs as she did so, and drew her blade with a single motion, looking around for the source of the alarm. The vintner, too, had been interrupted by the sound of the bells, and had turned to look at Nabisisstra at the sound of her sword leaving its scabbard, and half-yelled in a panicked voice, "Th-the baroness! She needs help! Quickly, uh, d-down the street, to your left!" He pointed down the road, where Nabi could see a rather large and well-built manorial residence - evidently the home of the local ruler, or "baroness" as the vintner had said.

Nabi gave a single, wordless nod before vaulting over the table in front of her - knocking the half-empty cup of wine to the floor as she did so - and running outside, whereupon she saw two horsemen rushing down the street as quickly as they could, both wearing armour and carrying swords. Throwing back her hood, Nabi, too began running as quickly as she could in the direction of the manor house, sabre in one hand, and her other ready to draw her parrying dagger should she need to fight. Yet, almost as soon as she had started to run in the direction of the manor house, someone else - a woman with feathers where humans would have hair from a quick cursory glance - had conjured a ribbon of water and all but blocked Nabi's path. "Friend or foe?" she commanded, in accented Rodorian.

Nabi halted, and raised her hands cautiously in a gesture of - she hoped - non-aggression.
The woman had spoken in Rodorian, and so Nabi would respond in kind..."Friend. I mean you or anyone here no harm."
In The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


Nabisisstra Rhe'anyl Qelarn, Expeditionary Trooper



"Isolation breeds stagnation, and stagnation in the face of the advancing world will surely mean our end..."





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