Sarel backed off from Sharee after her recoil, she was picky. And, to the Dunmer, that was fine, he preferred not being tempted. So Sarel moved away, rested on the wall which separated the rest of the ship from the stairs leading below deck. He sipped what was left of his Brandy as Sharee gave Serge the go-ahead.
The Breton smiled politely at Sharee then offered his hand to Allaina. She took a moment but, after a glance to her Argonian caretaker, settled her beautiful hands into Serge’s awaiting palm. He led her below deck.
“I didn’t know you were involved in freeing Sarel, that was quite brave of you.” A mage was coming down the hall followed by several other crewmen, he seemed quite serious, proud. Serge diverted his walking path into another corridor which would lead them around to the other side of the ship.
“I only helped in the distraction. Well, and helping Sharee with some of the preparations.” The Bosmer said with a coy mirth.
“I’m sure you were invaluable, whether you know it or not. You, know, I was there, when Sharee came to get Sarel.” The Breton turned to the Bosmer, stopping in front of the cabin he shared with Sarel.
“Were you?” Allaina’s brow furrowed, “Well, why didn’t you come with them?”
“I very recently learned, Allaina, that when a mortal becomes comfortable, it is very easy to have them delude themselves into a false sense of security. The Imperial Legion is very good at doing that, you might find.” There was a reserved anger in the back of Serge’s throat. But he smiled anyway, sadly nonetheless. “I was deluded. And it wasn’t very long after they left that I learned that that was indeed the case.” Allaina looked forlorn, mimicking that within Serge which he did not display. “So I broke myself out, it wasn’t easy, but I did it. Eh, we don’t really need to talk about that right now. I wanted to show you something.” Allaina nodded in response, a slight smile on her lightly green tinted lips.
Serge entered the room and looked around in his only bag. He rummaged around for a bit, Allaina stood behind him, carefully observing the nature of the room. It was mostly barren aside from the furniture and a few effects of the two men who lived there. Sarel’s pack, with both of his swords attached, sat atop his bed, his armor was sitting at the foot. A bottle of whiskey, brought by Serge, sat atop the dresser.
Serge turned around and showed what was in his hand to Allaina. It was a tiny branch, hollow on the inside with a hole on one end, a string was wrapped from end to end, Serge thought it looked like penne pasta in its shape, something which had just recently taken prominence in High Rock. A band of symbols traced across one end.
“This is a message carrier, blessed by Y’ffre. He is one of the most important God’s in the Pantheon of your people, the Storyteller, they call him. Apparently there are sects of Bosmer, your people, who can magically inscribe messages in these things, without any training at all. Well, he is thought to be the divine being who corrected the world after it was created, in chaos. Anyway, after I spoke to you, learned of your story, I felt it might be a fitting gift. I’d be honored if you took it.”
Allaina, for a moment, looked around for Sharee, but she was nowhere to be found. The Bosmer looked down at her hands and then at the Y’ffre message carrier and smiled a little. She took it in her hands and grasped it, feeling the grooves inscribed into it. “How did you get it?” She asked.
“I did a three year patrol in Valenwood. Beautiful place, beautiful people.” Serge came a little closer to Allaina, his blue eyes grasping for the attention of her own orbs of beauty, an ineffable mix of colors all on its own. “It palls in comparison to you.” Serge brought his hand up to her face then, moved a stray hair from her eyes to drape over her beautifully constructed ear, unnecessarily elegant. Allaina’s eyes flicked up to the Breton’s, their eyes locked into a passionate stare. The emotions swirl in Allaina’s head as she attempts to calculate it all. Her heart beat uncontrollably and she could feel the heat between them reach a boiling point.
Sarel simply nodded as Cynric brought the food out and presented his work. He deserved the warning Sharee gave him, but as far as Sarel was concerned, if the food was any good, he was worth keeping around. Besides, the Balmora Blue did wonders for his appetite. The Dunmer bounced off of the wall and joined the other crewmen at the long table where the food had been served, he grabbed a bowl of the vegetable soup along with one of the pies and a whole plate of pork loin and some shavings of fat as well. Food like this reminded Sarel of his time spent with Beilin, they’d have a wonderful time cooking and eating pork, and stews and the like out in the wilderness. The pork was much better prepared, of course, this Cynric seemed to have what it took. Sarel looked up to the chef, “You’re alright in my book,” Sarel said, a big smile crossing his face
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Gabe prepared himself as the white wolf came forth, his hulking muscles imposing on Gabriel’s relatively small frame. He held his holy sword with two hands, defensive position defiant against the raging, frightening werewolf. The wolf could scratch all he wanted, he could bite, and slash, and beat against Gabriel’s chest; the Angel now knew of his capacities. He wasn’t a hard hitter, that was the magic users, and the vampire who whisked around the battlefield. And he was not as dexterous or as fast as Veti or Atticus, but Gabriel knew that he could withstand anything the white wolf had to throw at him; Gabriel was the unbroken.
In moments the werewolf was offset, his curved sword went crashing to the grassy ground, only a few seconds before a leathery dart plucked at him from the sky. Atticus landed somewhere behind the white wolf, outlined by the fiery remains of the car crash. More shots rang out and then the wolf was down, laying in his own blood. Veti came over to claim the kill, nothing Gabriel would think of denying her. As far as he could tell, this beast killed a close friend of hers. Gabriel knew that he should have mercy for this animal, Gabriel knew that was what his Majesty would want, but Gabriel was all too familiar, especially now, of the power of human emotions, he was wrapped up in it. He wouldn’t dare to steal the fruitful moment from Veti, not in a million years. Yet, when werewolf’s life was snuffed, Gabriel winced a little. He calmed himself by remembering that this individual was also wholly evil, not worth dreading over. That was how he would get over killing the other wolf from earlier, it was how he would get over this, and it was how he would get over many of the deaths to come; some which his blade might act as a catalyst for.
Gabriel was over by Atticus while Veti dealt with the white wolf, he checked him a little, without touching, and offered some solidarity. “Thanks for the assist, if you guys hadn’t hopped in I might have been a pretzel right now. Then I’d look like you.” Gabriel smiled briefly, unaware of the mild insult, then scratched his head, that’s when the final bullet was sent into the white wolf.
Gabriel turned around, he saw Veti standing alone over the werewolf’s corpse, it gave him chills. Menacing red light from the horror of Fenris outlined the bluff above them. Small figures darted to and fro on the battlefield atop the plateau. Gabriel could feel a heat, a preeminent heat which wafted from the wolf-god. It was a heat familiar to Gabe, as he’d felt it while in the presence of his Majesty. Along with the heat, incidentally or no, came a fire demon, conjured most likely by Jay-Jay, the red-head firestarter. Gabriel felt bad, even now as he took a moment to breathe and clear his head, for not engaging the wolf-god which was so embattled with... his friends?
Gabriel jogged up to Veti, his weapons holstered, his hands rubbing against each other to provide warmth. Despite the supernatural heat in the area, it was still damn cold, the sea air was likely the cause (and Gabriel’s shirtlessness didn’t help all that much either). Gabriel’s ligaments strained under his flesh as he shivered a little. He eyed the wolf-god, then Veti.
“You’re pretty strong when in your transformation, huh? What do you say about getting me on top of that big fucking thing over there?”
Veti stood, her wolfen maw grim, jaw clenched. She was satisfied, contented she’d done all she promised Reginald Hoyle - she’d lose no sleep after putting a silver bullet between the white wolf’s eyes. But there was simply no time to savor the moment - not with a raging demigod about to unleash some nasty scarlet lightning-imbued bit of utter destruction on an unsuspecting, unprepared world.
The werewolf turned back to Fenrir, back to the remainder of her small, beloved pack. Siya’s impossible shadow seemed to swallow the monstrous demigod, illuminated by a magickal fire the likes of which she had never seen that, she suspected, somehow emanated from Jay-Jay. She took in no more though, when she realized there was a voice that was actually addressing her in the midst of the chaos, shadow and fire and lightning.
Veti blinked, her brow furrowed for a moment as the shirtless FNG’s words finally began to sink in. “Well… Yeah. Obviously. But you do know Atticus’ flight wasn’t exactly voluntary, or really even flight, right? Heh... But sure, if you’re really looking for a lift? I got you, not a problem.”
The crimson wolf eyeballed the distance between themselves and Fenrir, and then waved Gabe to her as she took a knee. Ebony-tipped claws interlaced into a cup of sorts, her amber eyes boldly assessing the size and shape of this strange, shirtless new guy for a proper trajectory.
“So name your target on the demigod of destruction, new guy. Head? Back? Haunches? Oh yeah, and I’d toss you like I did our boss, but that whole ‘chunking you like an enormous pumpkin’ only works over small distances with wings - even broke ass wings. Still, you’ll get way more lift and accuracy if you put some of your own power and weight behind the toss.”
Veti’s brow raised questioningly as she looked up at Gabe, the vile miasma of the crimson lightning turning the whole of his pale upper body a ghastly, ominous red, as if he’d somehow been painted in blood. A sudden chill raised her hackles, from the thick crimson rough to her magnificent tail.
“Let’s go Gabe,” she growled almost impatiently now, suddenly plagued with her own misgivings, “Name it, and I’ll launch your ass up there man. I’ll be right behind you… “
Gabriel set himself opposite the crimson werewolf, he bounced his limbs into action, enough to get his angelic blood flowing. He shook his head a few times and then settled into a hunched position, preparing himself, when the werewolf spoke again, rushing him, Gabriel let out a childish puff of air.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He squinted a little, noted that last time his try at the head was unsuccessful, and took a deep breath. “I want to ride that doggie from behind,” Gabe said standing, he began to sprint, “And put some spin on it!” The Angel lifted himself from the floor and into the waiting paws of his lycanthropic catapult. She lifted with her incredible strength, and launched him in the air, just as she did Gabriel kicked with his feet, remembering how he would take off into the heavenly skies. He curled into a ball just as he lifted off in order to gain more speed and energy. Near the height of the jump, some several hundred feet in the air, Gabriel uncurled with his arms outspread. Wind rushed his hair back as he fell back to the earth with incredible speed. The angel passed the fire demon, catching the heat of the flame as he did. Gabriel timed his next moves perfectly. He rolled into the rough, prickly fur, almost sliding off onto the wolf-god’s tail. Instead he found balance and unsheathed his sword and one of his pistols. A crackling of red lightning rushed pass Gabriel. The Archangel looked up toward the engine of this damnable, organic train, unsteady as he balanced on the raging back. He saw the fire demon attempting to push back the red orb Fenris had summoned, that was likely what caused the lightning to strike back here. Gabriel was spurred forth then, knowing that if there ever were a time to attack, it was now. He began running forward at a moderate speed, his sword dragging behind (as much damage as the relatively short sword would be able to do), shooting the bursting rounds ahead of him.
“Let’s go you son-of-a-bitch. Come on.” The angel murmured to himself more than to Fenris. When his current pistol was out of ammo Gabriel tossed it into the air in front of him, as calculated as ever, jumped to intercept the flying firearm, drew his second (spinning as he did so), caught the empty pistol in it’s holster, and landed shooting once again, hacking at the god-wolf’s back with his sword.
In moments the werewolf was offset, his curved sword went crashing to the grassy ground, only a few seconds before a leathery dart plucked at him from the sky. Atticus landed somewhere behind the white wolf, outlined by the fiery remains of the car crash. More shots rang out and then the wolf was down, laying in his own blood. Veti came over to claim the kill, nothing Gabriel would think of denying her. As far as he could tell, this beast killed a close friend of hers. Gabriel knew that he should have mercy for this animal, Gabriel knew that was what his Majesty would want, but Gabriel was all too familiar, especially now, of the power of human emotions, he was wrapped up in it. He wouldn’t dare to steal the fruitful moment from Veti, not in a million years. Yet, when werewolf’s life was snuffed, Gabriel winced a little. He calmed himself by remembering that this individual was also wholly evil, not worth dreading over. That was how he would get over killing the other wolf from earlier, it was how he would get over this, and it was how he would get over many of the deaths to come; some which his blade might act as a catalyst for.
Gabriel was over by Atticus while Veti dealt with the white wolf, he checked him a little, without touching, and offered some solidarity. “Thanks for the assist, if you guys hadn’t hopped in I might have been a pretzel right now. Then I’d look like you.” Gabriel smiled briefly, unaware of the mild insult, then scratched his head, that’s when the final bullet was sent into the white wolf.
Gabriel turned around, he saw Veti standing alone over the werewolf’s corpse, it gave him chills. Menacing red light from the horror of Fenris outlined the bluff above them. Small figures darted to and fro on the battlefield atop the plateau. Gabriel could feel a heat, a preeminent heat which wafted from the wolf-god. It was a heat familiar to Gabe, as he’d felt it while in the presence of his Majesty. Along with the heat, incidentally or no, came a fire demon, conjured most likely by Jay-Jay, the red-head firestarter. Gabriel felt bad, even now as he took a moment to breathe and clear his head, for not engaging the wolf-god which was so embattled with... his friends?
Gabriel jogged up to Veti, his weapons holstered, his hands rubbing against each other to provide warmth. Despite the supernatural heat in the area, it was still damn cold, the sea air was likely the cause (and Gabriel’s shirtlessness didn’t help all that much either). Gabriel’s ligaments strained under his flesh as he shivered a little. He eyed the wolf-god, then Veti.
“You’re pretty strong when in your transformation, huh? What do you say about getting me on top of that big fucking thing over there?”
Veti stood, her wolfen maw grim, jaw clenched. She was satisfied, contented she’d done all she promised Reginald Hoyle - she’d lose no sleep after putting a silver bullet between the white wolf’s eyes. But there was simply no time to savor the moment - not with a raging demigod about to unleash some nasty scarlet lightning-imbued bit of utter destruction on an unsuspecting, unprepared world.
The werewolf turned back to Fenrir, back to the remainder of her small, beloved pack. Siya’s impossible shadow seemed to swallow the monstrous demigod, illuminated by a magickal fire the likes of which she had never seen that, she suspected, somehow emanated from Jay-Jay. She took in no more though, when she realized there was a voice that was actually addressing her in the midst of the chaos, shadow and fire and lightning.
Veti blinked, her brow furrowed for a moment as the shirtless FNG’s words finally began to sink in. “Well… Yeah. Obviously. But you do know Atticus’ flight wasn’t exactly voluntary, or really even flight, right? Heh... But sure, if you’re really looking for a lift? I got you, not a problem.”
The crimson wolf eyeballed the distance between themselves and Fenrir, and then waved Gabe to her as she took a knee. Ebony-tipped claws interlaced into a cup of sorts, her amber eyes boldly assessing the size and shape of this strange, shirtless new guy for a proper trajectory.
“So name your target on the demigod of destruction, new guy. Head? Back? Haunches? Oh yeah, and I’d toss you like I did our boss, but that whole ‘chunking you like an enormous pumpkin’ only works over small distances with wings - even broke ass wings. Still, you’ll get way more lift and accuracy if you put some of your own power and weight behind the toss.”
Veti’s brow raised questioningly as she looked up at Gabe, the vile miasma of the crimson lightning turning the whole of his pale upper body a ghastly, ominous red, as if he’d somehow been painted in blood. A sudden chill raised her hackles, from the thick crimson rough to her magnificent tail.
“Let’s go Gabe,” she growled almost impatiently now, suddenly plagued with her own misgivings, “Name it, and I’ll launch your ass up there man. I’ll be right behind you… “
Gabriel set himself opposite the crimson werewolf, he bounced his limbs into action, enough to get his angelic blood flowing. He shook his head a few times and then settled into a hunched position, preparing himself, when the werewolf spoke again, rushing him, Gabriel let out a childish puff of air.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He squinted a little, noted that last time his try at the head was unsuccessful, and took a deep breath. “I want to ride that doggie from behind,” Gabe said standing, he began to sprint, “And put some spin on it!” The Angel lifted himself from the floor and into the waiting paws of his lycanthropic catapult. She lifted with her incredible strength, and launched him in the air, just as she did Gabriel kicked with his feet, remembering how he would take off into the heavenly skies. He curled into a ball just as he lifted off in order to gain more speed and energy. Near the height of the jump, some several hundred feet in the air, Gabriel uncurled with his arms outspread. Wind rushed his hair back as he fell back to the earth with incredible speed. The angel passed the fire demon, catching the heat of the flame as he did. Gabriel timed his next moves perfectly. He rolled into the rough, prickly fur, almost sliding off onto the wolf-god’s tail. Instead he found balance and unsheathed his sword and one of his pistols. A crackling of red lightning rushed pass Gabriel. The Archangel looked up toward the engine of this damnable, organic train, unsteady as he balanced on the raging back. He saw the fire demon attempting to push back the red orb Fenris had summoned, that was likely what caused the lightning to strike back here. Gabriel was spurred forth then, knowing that if there ever were a time to attack, it was now. He began running forward at a moderate speed, his sword dragging behind (as much damage as the relatively short sword would be able to do), shooting the bursting rounds ahead of him.
“Let’s go you son-of-a-bitch. Come on.” The angel murmured to himself more than to Fenris. When his current pistol was out of ammo Gabriel tossed it into the air in front of him, as calculated as ever, jumped to intercept the flying firearm, drew his second (spinning as he did so), caught the empty pistol in it’s holster, and landed shooting once again, hacking at the god-wolf’s back with his sword.
Igraine said
I added my piece in with Serge's last night; it won't be near so long as our last collab (or at least my part won't for Veti) - not exactly a time for in-depth character building and dialogue? But Serge's idea is still pretty fun, all on it's own!
Yeah, it'll be up soon, I bet.
Igraine said
Heya there Serge, I'm going to get something in right now. I started to do something earlier, but then more family showed up unexpectedly, and didn't leave until fairly late tonight, sorry ><
No worries dear. Can't wait to see what you come up with.
I couldn't say.
EliteCommander said
I just don't like to make sudden skips if I can help it. We will be skipping to Khenarthi's Roost soon, though. I have ideas for what to do there.
Whatever you say, Boss.
EliteCommander said
I don't think Leon has too much time anymore. He seems rather busy, though I would like to have him back as well. I think doing a skip right now though would be pretty sudden. Might want to do that at the end of the day in rp. Besides, there are still a few conversations still going on, I believe.
Not particularly important conversations. If you insist, I'll see about getting something up wrapping up Sarel and Serge's night by wednesday.
EliteCommander said
I don't think the number of people is an issue, honestly. One of my most successful RPs is with just one other person. I think it is just a matter of more consistent activity. What would everyone else like to see in the RP? Or is it simply that people are pretty busy most of the time?
You're right, I just want Leon back, and Elseweyr.
I'm working on something with Igraine right now. This will lead to a slight delay.
I want to post but it feels like there's only 4 people in this story. Can we skip to Elseweyr also?
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