Luminosity

The Lord of the Rings

Really sorry for the absence. I've been quite sick. I'd brought up the idea of a collab between Cal and Els, could still do that if you guys don't mind a bit more wait. Going to try to catch up on stuff later today.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

I've been very sick lately, sorry about that. Going to make an effort to get a post in sometime today.

The Lord of the Rings

@Tombprince If you want to collab something soonish, since we're staying in the same room, I'd be down.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

(Collab with @idlehands)

On top of all that had happened, they wanted to judge her?

The thief of all people, stolen loot in hand, was going to ridicule her for defending herself from a disgusting man that had every intention of ending her life. The moment was already replaying for her, and Fiona wondered if she hadn't ended it when she had, if perhaps Nolan would've ripped the knife free from her more unpleasantly, and spilled her guts all over the snow? If she'd tried to knock him senseless, perhaps he'd have grabbed the fallen knife and pierced her heart. She wished she could've avoided it, of course, but who were these men to judge her, wounded and kneeling beside her attacker, when neither of them even saw what happened?

"Fuck you," she spat at Finch, still clutching her side as she struggled to her feet. She might've thrown a punch at him if she'd been in better shape. "Not all of us are slippery enough to run and hide when threatened." She turned to the bone knight. "Save the prayers. He was a foul man who should've taken the hint when I beat him the first time. Instead he came back, tried to have me killed... and got what he deserved."

Fiona was worked up into quite a state, a mixture of the heat from the fight and the alcohol in her, all fanned by the judgement of everyone who was so obviously superior to her. The night was ruined. Despite her killing being an act of self defense, it seemed very unlikely it would be seen that way, when the blood-mad orc inside was murdering indiscriminately. Perhaps the high and mighty around her were too intimidated to send their judgement his way.

She huffed, tears almost escaping her, but she turned away from Finch and Faruq and scooped up her sword from the ground. Another step, though, and a sharp pull in her side made her wince and stop. She'd nearly forgotten about the other women in her anger. Turning back, she nodded to Gaela. "Help would be appreciated, Gaela. Thank you." What a mess was right.

Gaela glared at both of the Imperial men, while certainly starting a bar brawl was not the wisest choice, it did not take away the fact Fiona had defended herself. As if she was supposed to give the man a chance to kill her out of some warped sense of honor. Huffing a breath, she muttered her annoyance, "Judgemental for a bunch of convicts."

When Fiona accepted her help, the healer moved forward to place her hands on her wounded side. It was a knife wound, likely deep enough to cause her not only pain but perhaps limit her breathing. As she concentrated on the spell, her hands glowing in a soft pale light as she sent the pulses of magic to bind the muscle and sinew that had been torn, she failed to hear shouts until she looked up. Guards.

They shouted for them to throw down their weapons but she had none. Fiona's sword remained in her hands, though the point was planted into the ground, and she leaned on the weapon to steady herself while Gaela worked. Gaela looked up at one of the guards standing over them with swords drawn, "I'm in the middle of healing, don't stab me. Just...a moment."

Forcing her focus on her task, she increased the power of the spell, powering through the fractured rib. It was certain to be uncomfortable for Fiona but the guards grew nervous and shouted their warnings but she could not stop once she started.

"Mage, take your hands off of that wench and keep them up," the woman with the crossbow shouted, her voice high pitched and grating. "If you even show a flicker on your finger, I'll turn you into a pin cushion."

Gaela looked at Fiona, whispering, "How's your breathing?"

"I'll live," she whispered back. "So long as we aren't stuck with crossbow bolts here."

"Good point," she replied dryly.

Turning to the guard, Gaela made a show of slowly removing her hands, wiggling them back and forth so her sleeves fell to her elbows. "Look, I'm only a Restoration mage."

To make matters more complicated, that was the moment when the band of centaurs broke through to attack the village, causing Fiona to wonder if some curse had befallen her, to suddenly surround her with so much in the way of unfortunate happenings. That said, there was opportunity in this. The guard captain was shouting for their aid, forgiveness of their transgressions in return. As though they needed forgiveness for being attacked. Well, the orc could use it, judging by the sounds still coming from within.

The healing she'd received would have to do, as the centaurs were almost immediately on them, directed towards the sides of their little group by the impressive frost atronach standing in their way, and right by Fiona and Gaela. The first came bearing a spiked, heavy cudgel, swinging down at them, and Fiona brought her sword up to block it, the weapons clanging loudly as the creature passed by. Arms rattling, Fiona took a step back and steadied herself.

The horse-man wheeled around for more, charging directly at Fiona this time, but he wore little real armor, and she had the advantage of reach with her long blade. She lunged forward with it, the centaur obviously expecting the intimidation of his size to have better effect. He ended up impaled through the chest, while his cudgel smacked against Fiona's armored arm, shaking her again but doing no lasting damage. He fell heavily against his side, and Fiona withdrew her sword, breathing heavily.

Gaela dodged the centaur as he charged closer to them, and she ducked behind Fiona. They were close, too close for her to safely dispatch a spell without harm coming to the warrior. When Fiona dropped the creature, Gaela grinned with relief but it did not last long. Another was pounding towards them, his mouth contorting with an enraged scream as he drew his bow to take aim at the woman still gripping the bloody sword.

Raising her hand, a glow began in her palm and her chest tightened as she shouted to Fiona, "Get back!"

A ball of flame erupted from her hand and hurled into the chest of the charging centaur, causing it to rear in panic and pain. Fire shot up towards his face, the stench of burned hair could be smelled even from where they were. Gathering her energy, she aimed once more a smaller, steady stream of fire shooting out towards the centaur. As it turned to gallop away, the tail caught fire and the pained shrieks could be heard as he retreated.

Fiona watched him go, nodding her thanks to Gaela, but it was hardly over. Another was coming in, and Fiona followed his aim towards the target of his bow: a young woman fleeing from the tavern. Specifically, the barmaid that had stabbed her from behind. She was paying no heed to Fiona anymore, distracted now by the terror within the tavern, and the terrors attacking the village.

With no more thought than she'd given to killing Nolan, Fiona threw herself towards the fleeing girl, latching onto her shoulder and pulling her back. "Get down!" she cried, just as the centaur loosed his arrow. By trying to keep the girl out of the horse archer's aim, Fiona put herself in it instead. The arrow thrummed into her upper abdomen, the force of it throwing her back against the tavern wall and driving all of the air from her. Fiona's breath caught in her throat, her legs almost giving out under her.

The barmaid stopped in shock at the display, but Fiona had the awareness to note the centaur archer was wheeling around to get his back hooves in range of them, and she shoved the girl aside, before throwing her arms up to brace herself. The kick came hard and fast against her arms, deflected away from her head and chest but still reverberating through her entire body.

She slid to the ground on her side as the centaur galloped off, knowing the others would soon turn their attacks on him. The barmaid still watched Fiona, stunned, while the warrior woman struggled up onto her hip, clutching the arrow in her belly and trying to gasp in a breath. This was all going very well, wasn't it?

"Just... get inside," she managed, between attempted breaths. The barmaid shook her head fervently.

"But the orc, he's..." she didn't need to finish the sentence for Fiona to understand.

"Then just... stay out of sight." That the barmaid could do, and she cautiously crept away, with no words of thanks. The look was enough for Fiona. Still unable to draw in much air, her eyes sought out Gaela again. "I think I'm... gonna need some more of that... magic."

The Lord of the Rings

Calariel

---

Perhaps the others would expect Calariel to take such information in stride, but in truth the young elf was rather overwhelmed by it. She considered herself a humble servant of her people, making honest efforts to keep their modest holdings safe. Certainly not a great warrior of renown, the likes of which seemed necessary for such an undertaking. She'd never faced any great unnatural creatures of shadow before. Orcs and goblins were one thing, but a threat of such unknown power felt beyond her.

Of course, Ofnir seemed to believe in her, and the others, for some reason that she could not discern. That alone was enough to give her some measure of confidence. And despite her own doubts, Calariel's heart was largely set. From the sound of the task alone, she could not refuse. If she did not try to help, then who would? She was not someone who could turn her back on such things, even to preserve herself.

When the wizard asked them to depart, Calariel almost thought to speak, but kept her lips sealed, and turned to be the first one out. She awaited the others, nervously intertwining her fingers together, wishing she could read their faces better at this close a range. As it was, she could barely make out their presence. "I will be accepting the wizard's task," she stated quietly, attempting to make eye contact with a few of the group and probably failing. "If this sorcerer truly exists and commands a dangerous force, I cannot refuse."

Her face reddened slightly, as she shifted her weight around. "As for the rooms... perhaps Ellaryn and I can share a room. I have an extra bedroll and blanket. That is, if all of you are accepting as well." She thought it made most sense for the two girls to pair into a room, and Ellaryn came across to Calariel as pleasant company. Largely harmless, really.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

@Spoopy Scary I don't know if it would change your post, but Fiona's kneeling, not standing over the body. She's clutching her side. "Like an animal over her prey" seemed a bit inaccurate is all. If that's just Finch's interpretation that's cool, just wanted to run that by you.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

"Mara's mercy..." Fiona breathed, as the tavern erupted into an all-out struggle on her way back from acquiring another round. That stupid, wicked, pathetic man... he was going to get everyone in here killed because he couldn't have his way and because Fiona had made him pay for it. Even now the orc was already dismembering a fool that attempted to fight him. Could they not see that they were provoking experienced killers? Fiona never wanted any of this.

But her wants were irrelevant, as Nolan had stirred up the locals into wanting her entire group gone, or better yet, dead, and while the orc was intimidating to approach, Fiona was rather the center of the man's ire, and thus she immediately became a target. A problem made yet worse by the fact that she was only armed with a tankard of ale, her sword still half a room away. She held out a hand to the barmaid still behind her. "Stay back!" she shouted, just as the first man rushed her from the front. Fiona threw her ale in his eyes, temporarily blinding him, before she punched him in the throat hard enough to send him collapsing to the floor.

A shoulder rammed into her side, and sent Fiona stumbling into the nearest table, which sent a jarring blow into her hip. She lashed out with the tankard and caught the aggressor across the jaw, spinning him around, and she shoved him away with her boot. Then it was Nolan that was on her, his face now decorated with the improvements Fiona had made. He was knife-armed now, one hand going straight for her throat, while the other tried to plunge the blade into her chest.

His weight forced Fiona back, until she was horizontal atop the table. Nolan pressed down on top of her, tightening his grip on her throat, and she couldn't remove the hand, not while she was preoccupied keeping the knife out of her heart. She threw her weight sideways, and the entire table tipped over, sending the two of them crashing painfully into chairs, and eventually the floor.

Fiona scrambled up, reaching for her blade, and managing to grasp the hilt, just before Nolan seized a fistful of her red hair from behind, yanking her head back. She yelped in pain, turned sharply, and drove the butt of her sword into Nolan's thick gut, which had less of an effect than she would've liked. There was no room to swing such a long sword in here. By her hair Nolan pulled Fiona around, off balance, but still focused on him.

Then a knife was jammed into her right side from behind, the blade sinking in just above her hip. Fiona gasped and turned to catch a glimpse of the barmaid she'd told to keep away, infected by the same rage that gripped the others. It was all she had time to see, before Nolan charged into her. Fiona caught his wrist before he could stab her, but the man's shoulder rammed into her gut, the charge lifting her from her feet and carrying her backwards, pulling the knife free from the wench's hand. The tackle carried Fiona right into a window, and the pair shattered right through it, tumbling out of the tavern.

The air suddenly became bitingly cold all around them, as Fiona was deposited roughly onto the snow-speckled ground. Maintaining her grip on Nolan's wrist, the man still pressing his weight down on top of her, Fiona abandoned her sword, which was pinned under her, and better grasped his hand. She wrenched it unnaturally, a telltale cracking signaling his wrist breaking. He let the knife fall, crying out, but simultaneously grasping the one in her side, and twisting. She writhed under him, features twisting in pain.

His lost knife fell lightly on her shoulder, and Fiona grabbed it, unthinking. Flipping it backwards in her hand, she drove it up and sideways, right into Nolan's neck. His grunts of effort turned into gurgling chokes, blood squirting from the puncture sideways onto the snowy ground as his eyes went wide. With one more push Fiona removed him from her, and toppled him over. He was dead a moment later.

Gingerly, Fiona got to her knees, and pulled the knife from her side with another gasp. She cast it aside and pressed her hand against the wound to slow the bleeding. Her sword she placed in front of her, to have ready in case it was needed again. She could still hear struggling coming from inside the tavern. But Fiona wanted no part of it, instead remaining still, trying to catch her breath and pull herself together. More than her wound, it was guilt that racked her.

She didn't even feel remorse, for killing a man when she didn't need to. She felt relieved, actually. And that was the worst thing of all.

The Lord of the Rings

My post would basically just echo the others, and Calariel probably wouldn't even say anything, so I'll wait until we get more of the wizard before I reply.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

(Collab with @Spoopy Scary)

Fiona was halfway through her cup of something strong when she finally caught a whiff of the disgusting pork sausage. Indeed, she could smell the man as well as hear him, insulting two of her new companions, two that she hadn't immediately found repulsive or depraved or otherwise undesirable. This man, Nolan, was all of those things, and yet Fiona was drawn to him. Her fist was drawn closed, and there was an undeniable attraction between it and the man's pudgy face. She really couldn't stop herself, not once there was drink in her. She didn't even know what drink it was. "Something strong" was all she'd ordered.

She found herself across the table from the other Imperial, the one that looked even younger than she was. Finch, she believed he'd said. She had no real idea of how he got there, or who sat at the table first, but he was there now, in his rags and general state of dilapidation. She took another gulp of her drink, feeling the warmth rush through her, and then held up a finger at Finch.

"Excuse me for one moment. This shouldn't take long."

Finch nodded in Fiona's direction, fully aware of the, quote-unquote, pork sausage. He had been listening in on them for a while now, without so much as a drink in front of him. Instead, meagerly keeping his hands set on his lap with his eyes still shifting around the room. Nolan was the type Finch knew he didn't stand a chance against - but he also knew that he was the sort whose stupidity could easily be taken advantage of... at least, he thought Nolan was stupid. He looked the type.

Fiona stood, wisely leaving her blade propped against her seat, and made her way over to the table Nolan was looming over, offering a brief nod to Gaela and Kiralla as she approached. Nolan didn't see her until she was right next to him. Of course, Fiona wasn't the type to just blindside a man with a punch. She never did like to make things easy on herself.

"Hello there," she said rather loudly, hands on hips. "You're bothering my friends. And me. I suggest you leave." He turned his eyes on Fiona and they drank her in. She still wore her armor, what there was of it, and he half-smirked, still eyeing her.

"Maybe we leave together, you and I," Nolan responded, not taking her seriously. "You look a feisty one. Reckon we'd have a good time." He chuckled at himself.

"Oh yes,.. you should see her stare down a bloody crew of bandits..." Finch commented under his breath, out of ear shot.

"I reckon I'd be a bit too much for you." His smile disappeared, letting Fiona smirk in its absence. "You strike me as insufficient. In a few ways. Now please, get away from this table." Nolan seemed to have had enough of being spoken to that way by the women around him, and his response was to immediately throw the first punch.

To his credit, he was quick, and hit like a truck. His fist caught Fiona across her left cheekbone, jarring her to the point of seeing stars, and sending her stumbling back a step to her knees. While she reeled, Nolan snickered to himself. "Now that's a more familiar place for you, ain't it?"

Finch immediately jolted backward in surprise. Their first stop out on the open road and things were already going south!

Fiona groaned slightly, shook her head, and then rushed back up at him before he could so much as finish his smug line. Her uppercut caught him under the jaw, sending a splash of blood up into the air when he bit his tongue. Before he could recover Fiona had seized his shoulder, rammed her knee into his crotch, and doubled him over, his face having gone purple.

She seized his collar, and cracked a headbutt against his forehead, stunning him further. Another right hook caught his jaw for good measure, before she grabbed him by the shoulder and back of his head, and rammed him into a support beam, leaving a small bloody stain, and knocking Nolan out cold on his back.

Huffing a breath, Fiona smiled down at her handiwork, before she realized that all eyes in the place were trained on her, including a guard by the door. Still half-smiling, she shrugged. "What? You saw it, he punched me first. I was just defending myself."

The guard rolled his eyes, and seized Nolan by the collar. Once the sausage had been thrown out the back, Fiona considered her work done. She nodded to the two mages at the table next to her. "Best to keep the spell-slinging to a minimum in town, I'd say. Wouldn't want to burn down the place." With that, she tapped twice on their table, and turned on her heel. "You girls enjoy your discussion."

She ran a hand through her mess of hair, a vain attempt to organize it a little, before she rubbed slightly at her cheek. Nolan had hit quite hard, and it surely left a mark, but it was nothing Fiona hadn't endured before. She sank back into her seat across from Finch, and sighed. "Sorry about that. Can't stand those types. Were you saying something?"

"N-not a thing!" Finch stuttered - but it wasn't out of fear, he had a big old grin on his face and taking something of an awed look at the woman in front of him. He was definitely impressed by the absolute beatdown that the red-headed woman delivered on an asking thug. He watched as the guardsman dragged him out by his collar, probably to spend a night in the stocks. Then again, he probably wouldn't wake until the morning anyways! He made something that sounded like a rueful sigh.

"It might've been worth it to check his pockets, though... a couple septims to tip the innkeeper with and apologize for the ruckus?"

"Way I see it, I probably did the innkeep a favor," Fiona responded, taking another drink. "That guy was probably driving away business. Maybe he'll think twice next time." She leaned back in her chair, intertwining her fingers and resting her hands in her lap. "I'm not much of a looter, anyway."

It was a good little fight, one that left Fiona feeling rather content with herself. The bad guy got what was owed him, Fiona delivered it herself, and she proved she was more than tough enough to take a hard blow and keep fighting. The three pillars she seemed to live by, more or less. Because there were always bad people that needed dealing with, a shortage of people to deal with them, and more than enough people willing and able to beat her down. Such was the life she chose.

"So what landed you in irons?" she asked, eyes flitting back up to Finch. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you strike me as a burglar or some such." Not a very successful one, though. She supposed he could've just been hauled in for making the streets look less appetizing. His state made Fiona look like a woman well put-together.

"Heh..." Finch uncomfortable laughed to himself as he averted his gaze from Fiona. It wasn't difficult to tell from this that Fiona wasn't far off her mark, but Finch didn't take any pride from it. Part of him wanted to make a witty comeback like all the others seemed capable of doing, like, something about burglar and beggar sounding so similar or something. But even if anything were to come to him, perhaps it would be best for him to be as honest as he could without condemning himself. He started to speak, though hesitating.

"It... it comes with the, uh..." Finched sighed, annoyed with himself. "It was a book. That's it, I just took a book. Then there I was, chained next to actual killers, scheduled for execution."

The young imperial lad's arms crossed and he shut as his, as if he were still coming to grips with all that has happened. "I guess they just wanted to throw out whatever trash they could haul."

“Well, I guess you and I were in the same boat then,” Fiona responded, tugging at the hem of her jacket. “I’d had too much to drink, and this asshole provoked me. Lot like I did just now. He had backup, though, no easy fight. They got me pretty good, but I got them worse. Got plenty of the tavern, too, and that’s what they threw me in for.” Seemed like it was just about who could get under who’s skin first, and that guy had definitely known how to get under hers. Still, didn’t work out for him in the end. He was food for crows now, and Fiona was somehow still breathing.

“I hope it was a good book, at least,” she half smiled to herself, and took another drink.

"Heh, yeah... quite a novel." Finch said uncomfortably. He twiddled his thumbs a bit, trying to think of something to change the topic to.

"Others don't expect... people like me to read," the young man continued, "they'd sooner think we use them as kindling or dinner plates. Truth is, there are a lot of things that burn easier than books. Plates are novelty, but dignity doesn't come before eating."

“Mm,” Fiona murmured, not really sure what to say to that. It seemed they both didn’t live in steady locations, but somehow Fiona imagined her experience on the road was much different than his. She wasn’t really able to make herself small, so to speak. She tended to stand out in a lot of places.

She took a look at her cup, and found it quite unsatisfactory. “Well, I think I’ll have another round. Couldn’t hurt too much. Want anything?”

Finch shook his head profusely, then shyly looking around the table as if that were an adequate hint. With types like Brynn, Cedric, and the orc, the last thing Finch wanted was to be anything less than on his toes. He still did not trust them, and while Fiona got his respect, he still did not know what to expect from her - and she, too, has shown herself to be capable of taking care of others. In the non-motherly sense. He didn't want to get too comfortable around these sorts.

“Suit yourself,” Fiona said, before she rose and strode off towards the innkeep. She supposed a tip would be in order, as an apology for the mess not long before. She’d even made sure to hit the man’s head on the support beam rather than the wall, to avoid denting anything.

Fiona was thoughtful, sometimes, while she was clobbering people that deserved it.

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

@Spoopy Scary Sure. I'll write something up and send you a link.