Syben

Aspharia: Legends

@Lauder Well, we're gonna have to collab again seeing as our characters are still together. I'll get a link up soon.

Aspharia: Legends

@Lauder Thanks haha.

Aspharia: Legends

Sakiah Kywen

Unknown Location

_{1st Sunddir, Aagium, 127th Crest, 5th Cycle}

---

Darkness, total and absolute. Broken only by thousands of tiny, insignificant motes of light. Always closer, forever smaller. Twinkling off in an impossible distance, as if beckoning. Calling, reaching out for something. Finding only nothing except the total encompassing absence of light. An abyss so complete, it seemed unreal. The way it shimmered, as if caressed by millions of tiny hands constructed from crystals refracting every color of the spectrum. An oily shimmer, continuously persisting, barely there. A trick of the eye, yet a shade made of infinite nothingness has no eyes. Sees no sights. Feels no touch. Death, perhaps?

The blackness shifted, spinning wildly, the motes of light dancing. Bright duets, shimmering in attraction as they spun and swirled, dipped and twirled. Jarringly, they stopped. Still, glinting a symphony of soundless echoes. Crying out, pain? A slash of red, cutting through the serenity of nothing. A second swathe, crossing the first at an angle. A sudden jolt, crimson tears blanketing the vacuity. A hundred stars dying. Fading from existence. Glittering shades that slowly faded from the marred canvas. Shades of light dwindling, glinting woefully as they departed. Leaving only one.

A tiny hope, growing. Long arms of light dancing from it’s body as it raced toward. Insides of blue and white, or browns and greens. Spinning madly, a ceremonial dance mimicking the unseen others. Closer now, and a rush of color. Smoky wisps of pale white leading depressing grays guiding darkened blotches. And suddenly, everything.

A rush of sound met her eyes as she burst through the clouds, her tingling body rushing towards the planet. Spit forth a maw so much like that in which she herself dreamt of escaping. Glittering with it’s precious earth. She spread her arms and let the winds carry her, closing her eyes as she was escorted across the ocean breeze, smelling the salt in the air. A boat rocked underneath, the sea hardened men unaware of her soaring figure, silhouette across the dark clouds heralding a storm. She passed through them with the ease of a breath.

The sun was bright as it glimmered across the frothing ocean waves. She squinted, her vision hazy across the glare before she turned in a wide sweeping arc, coming low across the ocean waves. She passed through a swell, feeling nothing but frivolous across her body failed to pick up sensation. She gasped in shock, but no air filled her lungs. Panic swept her mind and for a moment, her journey stopped and become a tumultuous tumble beneath the ocean’s surface. She imagined bubbles escaping her lungs and she drowned, and they blinked into existence, jiggling a ballet slowly to the surface. The scene stunned her, long enough that the sweeping pull of whatever mystical current was guiding her drew her in once more.

Up, out of the waves, and back into the air. A mass of land looming before her, crested by an enormous gathering of stone. A city, spanning miles along the coast, entrenching deep into the mainland. Miles and miles of flattened cobble and shaped wood, of worked marble and polished metal. She swept down a wide avenue, glittering with swept shop fronts and flowers in bloom. If she had been breathing, her breath would have caught. Instead, her mouth hung agape as the pull became stronger. The whip whipped at her, causing her to idly wonder why it was that she could feel that, but not the splashing of the ocean’s wave. Translucent fingers took hold of her, wrapping themselves around her as the pull became a tug, as if her body was too heavy for it’s force. Her eyes widened in fear as the force gripped her body, squeezing her as if into a vacuum to small for her. She shot forward, the world becoming a multicolored blur. Her senses flickered in and out, a barrage of sound assaulting her ears fading into the violent caress of the pull. The world spun, wild and vivid in its color, before dropping her in the middle of a room.

She forced her eyes to open, and was met with only blood. No, not blood, the color of it, pressed into a plush carpet. She stood carefully, her brows hunched together in wonder and confusion. Curtains of deep purple spanned entire sections of wall, from floor to ceiling, over polished windows higher than she was tall. A thick, wooden desk lacquered to a bright shine sat before a chair thick with cushions, depressions in the fabric holding a hundred sparkling eyes of diamonds. She strode forward, both appalled and intrigued by such splendor. She passed between two plain looking chairs position in front of the desk, and yet somehow seeming exquisite in their plainness. She turned, hearing the groan of two obviously heavy doors pushed open, the squeal of hinges absent beneath layers of grease.

She was beautiful

A woman entered, but not like any Sakiah had ever encountered. Like herself, yet different. Two horns adorned her temples, gracefully curving back with the shape of her head, barely skimming the surface of her shining, sun-colored hair. She was short, yet her hollowed cheeks showed a maturity in her age, a deeper plum set against the brighter purple skin. Her eyes glittered as she strode into the room, shifting with hues of red and orange, splashed with yellow, as if a raging fire had left its imprint on her eyes.

The woman turned, and Sakiah noticed their was another, a mirror of partner, less in her visage but appearing that of an elegant painting. Set with hues of blue and black.

”Wise council, Sister... but misguided.”

”Please, hear me on this-” A slap resounded throughout the office chamber. A stinging red handprint left on the blue cheek of the taller woman. Sakiah could see wetness welling in the corner of her eyes.

”Do not try my patience!” The shorter one seethed, obviously in a position of power over the other. The taller sister nodded meekly, forked tongue darting across her split lip, tasting only the acrid taste of warm, fresh blood. The shorter one took a look of concern, her hand reaching up to brush the side of her sister’s face even as the taller one flinched in response, ”Sssh, sssh… I’m sorry, it’s just, you know how things get to me,” She cooed. The blue woman nodded as a strand of midnight hair fell across her face. The purple hand caressing her face moved to push the strand away, before forcefully lacing its fingers into her hair and wrenching her head down closer so that the hot breath of her older sister could be felt across her face.

”Send the howlers east, with Misla… she alone should be more than enough”

”Yes, a-as you com-m-mand.” The blue one whimpered as she was shoved towards the exit. She straightened her clothes, salvaged what was left of her pride, and left with the heavy burden of orders.

Sakiah stood, entranced by the exchange when she felt a sudden change enter the room, a chill, perhaps. The sensation definitely seemed to be there, replaced quickly by a sudden spasm of light tingles shooting across her. The shorter, purple woman’s breath hitched and she turned about the room slowly. Her eyes scanning, her mouth agape before she seemed to settle on Sakiah’s position. Neither of them understood this moment. Sakiah, who felt unseen by the entire world except for this captivating, gorgeous woman of a race she was unknown. Fierce in her command and sure in her power. And the woman with tresses seemingly made from the sun's rays, unaware and yet feeling something off. Something definitely amiss. She looked with eyes that were not her own, but those of her being, the world taking on a veil of shimmering, dream-like quality. And suddenly, she could see her. Hair whiter than the heavens themselves. Eyes shining with the pale glimmer of gold. The four ivory horns cresting her head like a crown.

”You…” she whispered, a single, unspoken breath passing before a wave of force ripped Sakiah from the lavish office, thrusting her back into the blackness, back among the shining, dancing motes of light, enthralled with her passage as she hurtled through nothingness.

Aspharia: Legends

@RedDusk No worries mate.

Aspharia: Legends [ADV]

Bump

Aspharia: Legends [HC]

Bump

Aspharia: Legends

@Lauder Only if you want. It's actually pretty solid as is.

Aspharia: Legends

@RedDusk That was dark. I know where that comes from.

Aspharia: Legends

Sakiah Kywen, Delen Shrödinger, Zugos 'Rune' Velarium

The Woods Outside the Corhall Slave Mines

_{1st Sunddir, Aagium, 127th Crest, 5th Cycle}

---

Shrödinger picked up his pace from his original walk to hopefully catch up with the massive creature that he was trying to help. Curiosity had peaked his interest and there was no way that he was backing out of this now. The doctor soon entered a small clearing to see a behemoth of a man crossing it, after following the trail that was so recklessly left behind. Now Shrödinger knew exactly what this being was, an escaped slave. Though, his eyes did not stay on the beast himself when he noticed that the slave was carrying something.

“Er, excuse me!,” Shrödinger called to the massive person, wanting for him to stop so that way the Shrödinger wouldn't have to run anymore. “I only wish to help you!,” he continued so he could treat this person if needed. The doctor was still ready to run, though he did not truly want to just leave if this person did need help.

The heaving mass of Rook stopped cautiously, his head straining to peer over his shoulder has he knelt and gently set his companion down. With fire still blazing in his eyes he turned, his stature towering over the smaller, oddly dressed man. ”I do not require your help,” he rumbled. His eyes darted to either side, suspicious of lurking soldiers, surely it would not be long until they began combing the woods. ”However, the girl here does, she has taken many wounds,” Rook eyed the man as he gestured to Saki’s limp form.

Shrödinger silently nodded to the massive figure, not wanting to anger the Orc. “I will treat her injuries as best as I can. I wouldn't want to hinder you from whatever you are doing,” He said, moving forward with his his doctor’s case at the ready. It had everything he would need for this, but he wasn't sure the extent of the damage to the girl was. Shrödinger looked at the girl for a moment before his gaze went back to the one who had been carrying her.

”My name is Shrödinger, I merely wish to help all who need my expertise,” he formally greeted with a slight bow of his head. Not wanting to waste time, he went to fast walk past the man. Rook stepped aside slightly, keeping a very attentive eye on the man. His mistrust pushed to the side by the need to see Sakiah make it through this day. ”If you do anything to hurt her,” he started, his threat left in the air as he followed close behind the ’doctor’.

Shrödinger crouched next to the girl, looking over her for a moment to simply analyze the damage. ”There are many wounds being presented to me here, finding where to start is easy, but it is a lot,” he stated before setting his case down to his side before opening it, revealing the stockpile of medicines on one side and a small bonesaw. The doctor took out a small vial filled with an antibiotic brew that would kill off any bacteria that may infect the wound as he worked. Afterward, he produced a smaller kit that would allow him to close the wounds as he did not have anything to cauterize them with at the moment. Immediately, Shrödinger began to sew the it closed along her midsection. This would all go smoothly, assuming she didn't come out of her pain induced shock.

It took several silent minutes for the doctor to get the wound closed but it was a simple, yet delicate procedure. He ran the same procedure on the two other cuts, the one on her right arm and the other running from her shoulder to hip. Shrödinger sighed with slight relief as he applied bandages to those wounds, then he turned his attention to the arrow. ”Are these arrows barbed?,” the doctor said, turning to the behemoth.

Rook turned his gaze from watching intently, waiting for Shrödinger to make the slightest move towards threatening Saki’s life to the man himself, ”The Paedatorian army does not make a habit of supplying their bowmen with barbed heads, unless procured from other means I would assume not.”- Rook let out a sight as he knelt next to the doctor, his form still doing a decent job of seeming to loom over the man even as he crouched-”Even then, we do not have time for a surgery, it must be pulled.” Rook’s face took on a solemn tone as he placed his hands on either side of the wound, his green eyes meeting the doctor’s own, ”It is likely that she will awaken, loudly. We must be prepared to move after.”

At least that makes things simple for me,” the doctor sighed before holding his left hand on her thigh and grasped the arrow with his right. Without warning, Shrödinger pulled the arrow out of her and set it down next to him. He then closed the now open wound, and wrapped a bandage around her thigh. Though, the girl did scream as predicted it was only for a moment. Her eyes fluttered open, mixed with pain and fear, before falling back into whatever darkness her mind was in.

---

Zugos had a thing for timed missions. It added a certain thrill to the hunt, a sense of urgency to the chase and an odd satisfaction to the kill. Monetary rewards were merely bonus to him; he had no shortage of coins. However, at times, he also wondered if self-imposed time limit was also how his masochistic tendency chose to manifest itself. Especially when he found himself jogging through a forest at noon with nothing but a thin cloak to protect him from the scorching sun.

He had donned his usual battle gear: cuirass, boots and gloves with metal plating and his ragged cloak. The urgency of the mission demanded that he depart as soon as possible, so he didn’t have to get his rucksack. All he had managed to grab was a large water skin, a length of rope and a baker’s dozen of throwing knives. It seemed sufficient though, seeing as he would be chasing down escaped slaves, not hardened convicts. Desperation might make them dangerous, but no force of will could overcome a failing body. He knew that from experience. And the pit masters of Corhall weren’t known for their generosity. Or intelligence, he thought with a sneer. These lowlanders didn’t even know how to treat their slaves right.

The trail was obvious, yet inconsistent. He followed blood smears and broken branches, but eventually, their wounds congealed and they passed through clearings. He had to stop several times just to search the area for more tracks to follow. He was closing in on his targets, but at the same time, the deadline was also closing in on him. He had to find them, fast.

Then Lady Luck smiled. Well, it wasn’t as grand as a smile, more like a condescending smirk, but he would take what he could get.

A sharp cry of pain pierced through the air. He straightened himself up then, turning his head to where he thought the cry came from. With practiced ease, he zoned in on them. Gray skin wasn’t that hard to spot among the trees. In a heartbeat, he took in the surroundings. There was the towering brute himself, just standing near his little mageling. However, he saw another man with them. It couldn’t be another slave, considering the strange apparel. Who would help escaped slaves? In Paedator, that sort of behavior was considered a crime that could result in a fine of several hundreds coins. Maybe this stranger just didn’t think he would be found out? How silly.

He wasn’t going for stealth here. There was no point; they were standing in a clearing. So he just approached them, his steps light and casual, but the sword in his hand obviously screamed hostility. His expression was anything but, though, just genuine awe and interest. It was his first time seeing an orc, after all. Well, technically it was a half-orc, but it was close.

“Bloody Aohr, they are right!”- He exclaimed as he neared, his eyes wide.-“You’re built like a brick shithouse!”

But that was all he really had to say. His specialty was ‘seek and destroy’. ‘Recovery’ wasn’t his forte, ‘negotiation’ was even less so. Besides, what was there to say? ‘Surrender or I will kill you’? ‘Halt’? He didn’t think words would be appropriated in this situation.

So he charged first. His first target was the large orc. His size and strength might be advantageous, but this time, Zugos had his sword. The distance between them shrunk as he dashed forward, going for a classic horizontal swipe across the giant’s midsection. Rook watched the man closely as he gave himself away, a turn of the foot here, a tensing of the shoulder, the way he held himself. The gray behemoth stepped outside the arc, just a hair away from having his insides spilled upon the ground with his sluggish movements. He sneered, his eyes turning a deep red as the adrenaline surged into him. His toes curled into the earth as he brought his opposite leg forward in a sweeping arc.

Zugos saw the attack coming, so he turned, bringing his sword between the giant’s leg and his body, with one hand firmly on the hilt, while the other pressing against the flat of the blade. The thick gray leg connected and he countered the force of the kick with his magic, his runes humming quietly to life as he deflected the blow and send the far larger man reeling back into the dirt.Shrödinger watched as the two went at it, now he felt the need to move the patient but he did not wish to anger the Orc either. Rook stood, anger swelling inside him as he reached his full height, chest puffed, and arms flexing as he brushed the dirt off of himself. He was prepared to give his life right then and there as he stared his opponent down.

”SEIZE THEM!!” a familiar voice screeched. Moments later a troop of iron clad soldiers could be spotted dashing between the trees.

The soldier’s arrival had an immediate effect on Zugos. He dropped his combat stance almost instantly, his expression of tranquil attentiveness faded away, replaced by a humorless smirk. Turning to where the soldiers were running toward them, he sheathed his sword , then reached for a sheet of rolled-up paper on his belt. With quick movements, he shredded it to bits, letting the pieces fell like snow.

“There goes my new wyrmskin boots.”- He sighed, turning his gaze toward the outlaws. –“Better run, strays. Your handlers are here.”

”He is right, Doctor-man,”- Rook agreed, swallowing his pride, -”We must go.” He stooped down, casting one more sideways glance at the stranger, smaller man who had so easily deflected his attack, before looking quite concerned at the mostly bandaged Sakiah. ”I fear I may not be able to keep up, but I need to stay with her to monitor her healing process. If you are able to carry me then please. However, if you cannot then leave me here,” The doctor said, standing to full height and packing up all of his things into his case.

Rook gave the thin, frail man a curious look before sighing heavily. It was going to be a very long day for him. ”Do not kick, or I will drop you,” Rook said, or rather commanded before quickly scooping the man off of his feet and onto Rook’s shoulder. A second huff, and his tiny, unconscious charged was draped over the opposite. Rook grimaced as he adjusted their combined weights, before loping off into the woods with his massive, inelegant gait.

Aspharia: Legends

Added Correspondence on the Mysterious Issians and Delineations on the Elusive Silverfangs to the librarium.