Current
I just can't. This is too much. Berserk was so influential on so many things that I love. Goodbye, Miura. You'll be missed by many.
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4 yrs ago
Migraines ew
5 yrs ago
Welp apparently discord servers are having some pretty bad Latency issues.
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5 yrs ago
Well I just got my mitts on the Links Awakening remake. Excus eme while I disappear for a weak while I relive my childhood
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5 yrs ago
Migraine killed me today. Posts tomorrow.
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Bio
Hello! Welcome to my little bio.
Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).
Another, less trained individual, might have flinched or otherwise faltered at hearing the words get down, shouted across the field, or taken their advice. But of course, doing so wouldn't be her job, now would it? It was certainly dangerous, but if they couldn't get to the necromancer before he overwhelmed them with the dead, then that would be even more dangerous. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nostrils, but she didn't think of it.
Her target had already been spotted. A foul creature, clad in black robes decorated with feathers. A skull of a dear, for a helmet. It was already attempting to channel more foul magic. Faster, she had to be faster. She focused energy from her blade towards her feet. Desert winds carrying her swiftly as she could across the floor. Quickly, before he could raise them again!
"Mist...!" And just to be safe - a flash of her blade, a brief incantation and a thick mist would escape from the enchanted weapon, a few steps later the area around her had been obscured by the thick fog, blocking the target from seeing her. A brief moment more of confusion while he couldn't see her was all she'd need. Second, two watery blades towards the goblins staff and body - for a distraction as well as interrupting his spellcasting. She wasn't going to attack him head on, no. Instead, hopefully while distracted, she'd drive the sword into the Shaman's back.
Of course, she was utterly terrified of fighting a goblin like this.
Warlord @VitaVitaAR It was true, that they perhaps, felt no shame or guilt. They thought that were in the right still, after all. And that would remain true for their journey back to the city. The three would keep their heads down, though for fear of being reprimanded or otherwise punished and follow along quietly to what was the village center.
Needless to say, the villagers were definitely curious as to what was happening. Word had already spread that some outsiders, specifically a dark haired girl had been asked by Enli to resolve some incidents in the city so it wasn’t hard for them to believe some similar looking outsider would be involved something like this.
And then came the words.
Traitors. Murder. Attempting to kill Enli.
“...They…attempted to kill Enli?”
“But he’s our elder…”
“Really? Can we…believe this?”
“Didn’t you hear? One of those outsiders were looking into something for Enli!”
“Really?!”
“Then its true!?”
Voices from the village would start ringing out, certainly and quickly earning the ire of the village in general. Some insults were tossed their way, after all, even if they didn’t particularly consider Enli to be some paragon of chiefly values - they definitely considered him mostly a good guy, doing his best to lead the village. Not only that, murdering would only cause chaos, wouldn’t it? What would they do without him?
The hunters were looking visibly uncomfortable, keeping their heads towards the ground. It would take some time for the public ridicule to have some noticeable effect, but eventually, one of the hunters would speak up quietly.
“...were we…the bad guys…?”
“And what, leave the village to rot?”
The three, at least, seemed to have some form of understanding then, at least, that maybe their actions could have been handled better.
“Excuse me, miss.” One of the villagers, would walk over, interrupting Nobunaga and whatever she was doing now. “Erm, I saw some hunters rush over to the old ruin on the cliff…Soyala was with them. I don’t know what they’re doing, but if these three were plotting against the village…”
“...you were meddling. The seal was under it…” The hunter would respond with a grunt. “Soyala and that one outsider said we should.” One of the hunters would comment, but aside from that they didn’t seem to have much more information. If pressed for the name of the outsider specifically, they didn’t seem to have one. As Novak left, they would respond no further, merely looking at Novak with a mildly tired gaze as they’d wait to have their punishment soon.
As Novak headed through the village, the place was understandably a bit spooked by the obelisk. No doubt it had never done whatever it had before. A number of hunters were quickly making their way over to the Obelisk, though it was difficult to tell what they were doing. At least no one was going to impede his progress to Enli, and soon he’d find himself standing inside the chief’s longhouse.
“Ah, Novak!” Enli would excitedly greet the younger man with a friendly smile. “Glad to see you are alright. I haven’t seen Akando, but I believe he might have been with that Donovan fellow, though I can’t be certain. Either way, I must thank you again for helping.” He would soon take a more serious expression though, as he’d motion for Novak to take a seat by the fire and warm himself. “What exactly have they mentioned, though? I was going to address the people soon, so I’d like to have some idea of what you’ve heard.”
“Better look?” Lazhira would echo uncertainly. “Hmm…maybe…well, we could look from the edge of the forest! Sneak up on ‘em.” Lazhira would say. “But uh, you sure? I mean, its probably attracting a lot of attention and well…”
If Misaki was certain she’d want to go after that, Lazhira would give her a wide grin and start making her way towards the southern exit of the village, pulling Misaki along with her followed closely by the Deer.
Lazhira and Misaki would arrive at the edge of the forest, far enough away from the cliff and Obelisk to not easily be seen, but close enough to see what exactly was going on. It seemed the hunters were up to something, being directed by a black haired huntress who seemed a bit…well, pissed off to put mildly. She was pushing the other hunters around and barking orders to set up traps, it seemed. It looked like they were setting up to Ambush something or someone from the look of things, but what exactly they were looking to Ambush was mystery. By the time they had arrived, the light show was over and whatever the Obelisk had done was finished.
This would also be the scene Narkissa would see from a distance as she’d make an approach. She however, was definitely more out in the open than the other two. Upon seeing her, Lazhira would start waving, coming just a bit out of the treeline.
“Psst, hey!” She’d shout, just loud enough for her to hear. “Narkissa! Over here!”
The cold snow would at least help with the burns and getting himself clean - but it would also only make him colder, losing more precious body heat…it was a good thing the cold no longer seemed to really matter to him all that much. He’d stand, legs shaking. The young man would find his only company to currently be snowfall, and silence.
Thankfully it seemed the forest was well, at least marginally safer than the snowfield, or at least the dead weren’t as common here. As he’d follow the trail left by the unknown human, Nicholas would soon come across a perhaps welcome sight.
A log cabin, smoke slowly rolling up from the chimney. The sloped roof carried on its top the weight of massive snow drifts, some which had even fallen to the point of completely burying the back of the cabin around the chimney. The sole window was near the pointed roof, where the roof met wood. The front of the yard was surprisingly tidy. Snow had been pushed to the side. A few carefully tended fruit bearing bushes clung to the front, already ripe with fruit it seemed. A few skins were also hung on a rack, presumably for drying and tanning.
It seemed like a homely little place. Perhaps too much so.
He would just make out a flash of red cloak disappearing into the door of the place.
If he wished too, Knocking on the door or calling would give no answer, and he would find it was unlocked. He had definitely just seen someone go in, but they didn’t seem intent on talking…perhaps that would be for the best, and he should leave and wait for Elisette.
Send Feet Pics @Cu Chulainn The Oni would give Nomura a friendly nod, waiting for him to finish his errand. The fisherman he had borrowed the rod from would look at Nomura, then the fish, then the rod. He would repeat that a few times, seeming in mild disbelief as he’d gaze at the large catch, a loss for words as Nomura spoke about spirits and blessings.
“A-are you now?” He’d respond with a blink. He seemed uncertain, but he couldn’t quite not believe what he was seeing. “A spirit…in the fishing rod…?” Soon, he’d start laughing, though not out of any sort of disbelief. “A spirit of some sort, eh? That’d explain it. Alright, i’ll believe you, sure. Now I’ll go and see if I can catch something with this, ahah!” No sense in not believing Nomura, really. Who knows - maybe this spirit rod would catch him enough fish to feed the entire village and his family twice over.
Heading back to Mie’s tent he’d find the fox herself having just settled back in, seemingly having finished just some business.
“Well,” Mie would laugh, seeing the fish he was carrying. “Didn’t take you for a fisherman. I’m sure Ayumi would love eating that in a single night.” The fox would respond. “Hm, yes, sit it on the table for now. I’ll have a Oni put it in one of the ice boxes after skinning and taking any valuable parts from it.” Business minded as ever, it seemed. Once Nomura had done so, Mie would motion for him to leave the tent and follow her.
“Thank you for solving that. I’m assuming that’s why one of the Oni told me someone was leaving with some of my things. No need to get violent. Violence is the last option, in my line of work.” Mie responded with a rather laissez faire attitude. “If he doesn’t…Ayumi will take care of him. Now as for why I called you here.” Mie would say, bringing Nomura to a small arena looking place. A few logs of wood had been driven into the ground, ropes tied between them. A few weapons and scattered bits of protective armor were laying near by. Some shirtless Oni were taking a break nearby while two seemingly had just finished sparring. “I know I said I’d be employing you, Nomura - and while I’m not going to make guarding anything your job…I do expect you to be able to protect my goods. That is to say, I would like you to have some ability to defend yourself and my things with some measure of ability. You can have any weapon you wish - I see you favor a bow, and there are plenty of arrows, alternatively I have many swords or other melee weapons.”
It was incomprehensible, but unlike some others, Isidore had no qualms with simply accepting that.
Twinned caverns, one enormous and another fathomless, brought him to the edge of stony plains, clusters of rounded rocks resting upon terrain that was smoother than pavement. Erratically, lava bubbled up in the depressions of the field, pockets of searing illumination that promised warmth and death in equal parts. The greatest surges of lava was sufficient to create a river of molten flame, though it was unclear where the waterfall came from. Metal pipes, gleaming in the red light, surged with steam, indicating some subterranean reservoir, while the trees that Nesherit had mentioned were inverted buildings instead, thrust unto earth as spears. It pulled at him, these relics of his former world. If these were buildings craft of human engineering, were other products within as well? Or were these empty shells, facsimiles of the world he once inhabited?
Isidore slipped on his goggles and his gloves, his gaze drawn to the city in the distance, the shadow of a stump rendered miniscule when compared to the unending heights of Old Naraheim. Was it possible that this entire mountain was naught more than a shell, a lid that covered this cavern? Or was something else at play here? He blinked as he realized that he had been gripping his polearm the entire time with force enough to blanch his knuckles and slowly relaxed. There were mysteries to be solved here, answers to be uncovered.
But the job came first.
“Come, Octavia,” Isidore clicked, turning eastwards. “Demons will be left til next time.” The sights, though impressive, would not keep Isidore captive for long. With a happy bark Octavia would follow as he’d cross the glassy plains. He did have a job, so investigating other places could indeed, wait for later. Initially the walk was mostly uneventful, Isidore kept only company by the sound of the lava and the occasional distant howl of some creature.
Soon though, he would reach what was assumedly his objective. Rounding the large mountainous rocky protrusion he would come upon what could only be called a forest of sorts.
A forest of roots.
Before he’d have a chance to thoroughly investigate, though, he’d hear Octavia give an aggressive growl, her demonic maw pulled back into a terrifying grin as she’d loudly bark towards the forest. Isidore would only have a few seconds to react before whatever Octavia had noticed, noticed him.
It looked like a pack of some sort.
About three hounds similar to Octavia, but much larger. Dangerous on their own, to be certain, but what they were gathered around seemed to be a different story altogether. A tall creature about the size of a man, with black, leathery flesh and a mane of coarse white hair. Several holes on its body glowed red, and what seemed to be hot lava dripped from its massive underbite between its sparse, sharp teeth. Its black flesh seemed oddly fluid in some areas, causing it to drip and hang from parts of its body revealing skeletal structure underneath.
They had just noticed him, and if he acted quickly he could get the first blow in.
Three canines and a humanoid. At a glance, Isidore understood them as hunter and hound, a combination so useful that it persisted, cruelly perhaps, in modern day policing procedures. And he understood too, that to escape from them on foot is to kill the hound first.
Trust him to jinx himself though. Would that monolithic deer arrive next, if he simply evoked their name?
“Octavia, dogs.”
A mirthful grimace cut into his features as Isidore lunged in, the core of his stomach building up fire and energy but not yet expelling it all. Taking the polearm, he swung it downwards into a vicious chop, ready to cave in the skull of the closest hound. Whether hunters or gangsters, the methods were always the same: the mongrels went first.
The hunchbacked humanoid shrieked, an unholy, high pitched thing as Isidore’s halberd struck the unaware demonic hound. The heavy weight of the strike nearly cleaving the hound in two as a second hound would make an attempt to leap towards Isidore - but would be intercepted by Octavia, tackling it from the front as the two would slide across the ground, growling and snarling, biting at each others throat.
Leaving Isidore to just deal with the humanoid looking demon and a single hound. Seeing two of its hounds occupied, it would snarl, and quickly start closing the distance between the two of them. The last hound would circle to his side, ready to flank.
One down, another dealt with. Isidore hitched his hand up the shaft of his halberd, his own legs bent as he hefted the head of his weapon back behind him. The distance continued to close, adrenaline surging through his fiery veins as Isidore built up more and more power, a heat haze emanating from his form.
A flank was useful only for offense and for applying mental pressure. But he already knew how high a hound could leap.
The distance became opportune. He let the engine roar.
Surpassing the speed he had demonstrated in his initial ambush, Isidore dashed in low, the stone fractured where his feet had been. Joints groaned beneath the pressure he placed upon them, but within the corona of a physical explosion, those were all distant concerns. Like a sickle through wheat, the halberd arced, intent on bisecting the humanoid with Dirithen steel and destructive velocity.
The lunging hound would miss its target, not expecting the speed that Isidore had displayed and would sail past the human, scrambling to get back to its feet as it attempting to make a sharp turn. The humanoid too, seemed somewhat taken aback by the sudden burst of speed…but Isidore’s halberd would not find its target.
In a display of speed, instead of avoiding, the demon would instead duck, leaping forward - and ram its head right into Isidore’s midsection before the blow would connect. The impact was enough to momentarily daze as the creature would then make an attempt to follow the headbutt by attempting to grab one of Isidore’s arms.
Meanwhile, Octavia seemed to be winning her confrontation. The other hound had put up a fight, but she had managed to completely bite a hole into the other hounds chest - and was proceeding to start devouring it…while it was still alive.
It could react to his speed. Demons could react to his new speed. It was good to know. It was a shame he’d discover it this way. Maintaining the engine of his accelerating heart, Isidore braced himself for the headbutt, his breath escaping from grit teeth as the skull of the monster slammed into his ribs. It would bruise, but nothing would break, and more importantly, it wasn’t a tackle.
So the hunter had exposed its back, bent over even as it tried to rise, one clawed hand grasping for his arm but having nothing to guarantee that Isidore himself would remain where he was.
One step and a pivot brought Isidore beside the creature, its claws only scratching the leather of his gloves. Above, he had brought the halberd upright, spiked butt now driving down onto the monster’s back. Below, his foot swung out in a low kick to knock the already off-balance creature, intent on preventing another miraculous escape. And if all went well?
The demon would be staked into the ground while Isidore handled the remaining hound.
Isidore’s halberd would meet its target. Its feet were summarily knocked out from under it. The spiked end would pierce the creatures leathery flesh, lava-esque blood seeping from the wound and spilling across its skin, the smell of burnt flesh quickly reaching Isidore’s nostrils. The demon would shriek, and make an attempt to grab the halberd.
The remaining hound would bark, growling and snarling as it would leap towards him again, fangs bared to knock him off balance as he was busy finishing off the demon.
Writhing. Bending. Contorting. The creature’s legs scrambled against the floor as its arms reached backwards in ways that beggared belief, clawed hands reaching for the haft of the halberd as if it could actually pull it out. Considering its speed, its inhuman physiology, Isidore decided that it certainly could. That, alongside the blur of matted fur in the corner of his eye, caused him to click his tongue.
Should’ve gone for the mongrel after all, but the opportunity had been too good to pass up.
Stepping back and cocking his halberd over his shoulder once more, Isidore relied on his enhanced reflexes to dodge the hound from hell by the barest of margins. As he did, he sucked in another breath, the energy that surged from his core now shooting outwards. The nature of magic was creation. The nature of his magic was fire. And the nature of his fighting style? Small tricks, big hits.
Where the spiked end of the halberd left, a molten spike manifested, sprouting out from the ground and filling that hole in the demon. Not to harm, but simply to hold it in place if it tried to roll or scramble out of the way. A distraction, easily countered if the demon simply pushed itself off the ground and stood up.
But so long as it didn’t roll, it couldn’t dodge Isidore’s halberd, swinging down with divinely-blessed might.
The demon would give a momentary gurgle of relief as the halberd was pulled from its chest. Its arms would contort back to the front of it. It wouldn’t roll or make a move to evade, since it had no idea that a spike of fire was going to quite so cleanly attempt to immobilize it again. The trick, indeed, seemed to work. From under its feet, a stake of molten fire would pierce the demons chest from the front. Another shriek though this time seemed more annoyed than painful.
The hound would just barely miss Isidore, snarling again in understandable annoyance. Octavia, having completely finished the first mongrel and what was apparently her now lunch, would move to intercept the last hound, giving Isidore time to deal with this demon.
The halberd would fall again.
The blade would cleave flesh.
Fiery blood would spill from the wound.
It would screech in annoyance, but even though its blade would sink into the demons flesh, it wouldn’t die - its flesh would seem to almost immediately start mending itself just seconds after the impact.
“Now why won’t you die?” Isidore mused, at ease with Octavia handling the remaining mongrel and his chief opponent squarely on the ground. The demon’s limbs continued to wriggle and squirm, the severance of its spinal column doing nothing to actually prevent its lower body from moving. Still ready for frenzied battle but deciding that speed was no longer a deciding factor here, the dark-haired youth allowed the engine of his heart to slow, allowed the blood in his veins to cool. A heaviness settled upon his shoulders, a burden many times greater than the items that he had strapped to his body. It would have been good if Augusta was here now to offer some advice, some secret she had gleaned through her omniscient eyes, as to how one would slay such a nonsensical creature. Octavia herself, like the other plants, had been weak to fire and holy magic, but Isidore doubted the former’s efficacy and had no access to the latter.
For that, perhaps, another man would be more suited for demon slaying.
His gaze swept around the area, spotting a pocket of smoldering light off nearby. If neither holy magic nor fire magic could serve his purposes, well, perhaps hellspawn ought to just be consigned to the lake of fire from whence they came. In pieces, if he had to. More like an executioner than a warrior now, Isidore drew up his halberd and this time slammed it right down onto the demon’s neck, breaking through bone and rotted flesh, before kicking it off a couple meters away. As for the rest of the body?
The pick end of the dwarven halberd made for a good hook when it drove itself into the still-moving body, and Isidore moved to drag it towards the nearest pool of lava. It wasn’t a cement mixer, but it ought to keep this living corpse occupied for a bit longer. If no noteworthy struggle was had, demon’s body would find itself bathing in lava soon enough.
The demon, of course, shrieked in protest. Was it frightened? Could demons even be afraid? Perhaps, perhaps not. The demons neck was cut. Flesh rent from bone. Its body would still convulse and attempt moving, but it was weakened from its severed head it seemed, whatever regeneration it seemingly had at least temporarily halted, or perhaps confused as it head and body were separated.
It wasn’t hard to find a pool of smoldering lava in this forest of roots. They weren’t as deep as the river he had seen before, but they would suffice. The body of the demon would soon be tossed in…the burning smell of flesh. Shrieks of pain from the beasts head as the body was soon completely submerged. It would continue to writhe for seconds, until it completely ceased.
Octavia would bark a few times - yet if Isidore looked, her target wasn’t the hound. It had already had its body impaled by…roots that seemingly had come up from the ground, fully impaling and immobilizing the second hound. Had Octavia done that? Regardless, her target now seemed to be the head of the demon that was still writhing, attempting to regenerate. Tendrils of flesh would come down from its neck. Octavia was doing her best, but the fiery blood seemed to be a good deterrent.
Like some sort of cockroach that refused to die, perhaps.
“Good girl,” Isidore murmured as he strolled up beside the pup. Her own bag of tricks was expanding, it appeared. Good that she used it to end the second hound quickly, good that she used it while she was still an ally. It was better that decapitation seemed a fair bit more effective against such creatures, even if their speed made it unlikely that he could do so in the heat of battle. At least not with a weapon as hefty as a halberd.
Perhaps next time, he would bring the longsword after all. He was also curious how such a creature could continue its shrieking without a set of lungs to pump air through its vocal cords. Perhaps a conversation with Rullphana would have to be at hand too; there was certainly no way he could deal with these creatures effectively if two of them came at him together. The young man rubbed the back of his neck, hefted up the halberd, motioned Octavia to be careful about the splatter, and cleaved the demon’s head in half, from crown to jaw.
If that still wasn’t enough to put an end to the wriggling…well, fine, what was another body part into the lava bath? Another cleave.
And finally, the demons shrieking and struggling would cease. No life or energy remained. Seemed whatever was keeping it alive would finally be unable to do so. As it would make its last breath, the entire demon would just…deflate. Melting, it seemed, into a pile of black and orange sludge as its skin and blood seemed to mix together in a puddle. Thankfully he didn’t have to fight two at once, but who knows how many more were around here…and whether or not something more dangerous was lurking around.
The head was completely severed in two, and Octavia would sniff the resulting corpse though would soon find herself recoiling in annoyance and trot back over to the hound she had impaled before starting to eat what remained of it. He was alone at least now, and as far as he could tell there was nothing else immediately in the vicinity of the root forest he was in, giving him some time to investigate the forest in full then.
Now that he wasn’t fighting, he could see something a bit odd about the roots. After abit of looking around, while a number of them were penetrating the ground, it looked like several more in several places had been oddly…cut? Perhaps that was the wrong word for it, but it was hard to really come up with another. Sections of roots had been entirely just removed, with odd rectangular cuts at the top of the stumps on the ground and the same where the roots would have connected to it further up.
Curious. It would seem there were quite a number of these odd cuts in these roots.
With the immediate threat taken care of and Octavia distracted by her constant desire to gorge (hummingbirds honestly had nothing on her), Isidore took a small break as well, leaning his halberd against his shoulder as he took a long sip of lukewarm water from the canteen. A couple of dried strips of jerky kept up his energy levels and kept his mouth occupied as he knelt over the puddle of flesh that the demon had ultimately dissolved into. He studied it briefly, before standing up again. Right now, his main weakness is that he had no proper gauge of what was ‘normal’ for a demon and what wasn’t. That was a problem to be fixed with experience and conversation though, not investigation.
And as for the actual matter to investigate…
Rectangular cuts, with sections of the roots removed to functionally create ‘windows’ in the area. Removing the glove from his left hand, Isidore placed one hand on the sliced open end, feeling the grain of the wood and trying to determine how ‘seamless’ of a cut it was, while his gaze found itself peering into the darkness of the space beyond those roots. The silkweavers could have gone through the gaps of the roots regardless; these windows were for larger creatures then. Poachers? Or just predators?
He narrowed his eyes.
As he’d lay his hand upon the cut, a small static shock would briefly singe his hand. Nothing painful, but that was odd. A natural phenomena? The fact not all the roots had these missing pieces perhaps said it wasn’t. There was also the hole itself. Against Isidore’s touch, it felt smooth. Impossibly smooth. As if instead of being cut, perhaps, the matter had just been completely deleted as one might text from a word document.
Octavia, finishing another meal would trot over to Isidore, standing alert. She seemed just a bit bigger than she had previously…well, it was probably fine. The size somewhere between a puppy and a fully grown large hound. The same fiery, hot landscape stretched beyond the roots, the forest seeming fairly large by comparison. If he walked through it, he might find something else or some other clue as to what these cuts were unless he had some way to investigate the roots directly or wanted to try.
The static shock surprised him, but that surprise was a pleasant one. Tapping his fingers over the rest of the cut roots, Isidore confirmed that they all caused the same curious effect, one that lingered even after the first exchange of electricity, and with that in mind, brought the halberd against the roots. The axeblade wasn’t designed for the work of cutting lumber, but Dirithen steel made the act easy enough, and Isidore secured two severed roots to his back, creating enough of a gap in the mesh of roots that he could slide into without problem.
There was a raised brow at Octavia’s explosive growth, but no comment. She too was immortal, after all, possessing a unique set of magical capabilities. So long as her hunger was trained upon monsters, he had no complaint. And if betrayal was in the nature of this facsimile of humanity’s best friend…well, Augusta may not understand, but Augusta wasn’t here.
And thus, hefting his halberd over his shoulder again, Isidore ducked beneath the roots and headed in.
The root forest was, well, as much of a facsimile of a forest as Octavia was of a hound. Isidore would run into a few more hounds, but they wouldn’t engage. Perhaps, lacking a hunter or otherwise deeming Isidore not worth it. It was expectedly dark, too. A reddish haze tinting everything with heat further creating a red, hot gloom.
More of those odd gaps in the trees, too…soon whatever he was doing though, his thoughts would be interrupted by what was the now distant roars he was hearing - that were steadily getting closer, In fact, whatever it was, was seemingly coming towards him at an alarmingly fast rate.
Something was coming. Something loud and monstrous, smashing through the distorted vegetation of this gloomy forest, something that could very easily explain why the silkweavers have gone…either in the form of predator or prey. Against something that he could only like to a bulldozer though, even Isidore did not want to stand in its way. Bending his legs, he motioned Octavia to begin scampering off to the side while he drew power into his own core, redirecting it to his lower extremities.
He needed to see this creature. He needed to evade this creature. So the best way to do it would be to leap off to the side on sight, and allow the creature’s own momentum to make pursuit impossible. So Isidore breathed in and out, quelling his frantic mind with measured motions.
Perhaps this was what matadors felt.
He wouldn’t have to wait long.
Crashing through the roots of this massive tree, was a creature that looked far more bestial than the hunchbacked human he had encountered earlier. While its lower torso sported short, stubby back legs covered in the same charred, black flesh that started fairly human, halfway up the torso it would begin to grow obscenely, body bulging as its flesh glowed and bubbled, heavy and large enough to cause the creature to have to walk hunched over - though it was not a problem. Its front arms were equally as big as its body, using them to run and barrel through the charred roots at an alarming rate. They were covered in heavy, thick rock-like slabs for protection. A smooth tail extended from its backside.
Curiously, it seemed to lack any sort of head or facial features. Where its ‘head’ would have been, was merely a gaping hole, making the beast appear almost entirely hollow inside save for a molten furnace able to melt steel.
It stumbled through roots, barreling past both Isidore and Octavia, spilling liquid fire behind it as it did so. It was at least twice as tall as he was, liquid fire leaking from its ‘head’ as it began to seemingly check the area around it, as if it was looking for something. Octavia was taking shelter behind a tree not far from Isidore. Soon, it would seemingly trip over its own top-heavy weight into a nearby clearing where it would soon right itself and give a guttural, gurgling howl and turn back the way it came, seemingly searching the treeline with senses not evident to Isidore.
Twice his height and built like a gorilla, but without a head or any internal organs, it was a monstrosity that could only be likened to that of the warden of the prison. Certainly, Isidore had slain foul creatures before, but the thing that stumbled through the roots with gargantuan violence, spewing flames out heedlessly, presented another sort of challenge to him. It could not bleed, and there did not seem to be any physical mechanism that enabled its movement. Isidore’s own specialization, insofar as he had obtained through amateur experimentations and desperate situations, was flame and thus subsequently useless against a creature whose very existence was defined by flame.
There was some comedy in both encounters though, one that caused his lips to twitch as he backed further away from the creature. An undying hunter and its hounds. An armored juggernaut burning from within. Was it at the designs of the Storyteller, that such creatures were Isidore’s first experience with real demons? Twisted one, wasn’t she?
But well, that went for those she had called as well. A wanderer with no sense of self-preservation, a holy man in a world that called for amorality, a woman who sought to burn away her past in pursuit of nebulous ambition. And himself, still undefined, still burning, still searching. The first hypothesis formulated then. A powerful demon had lost something. In search of that something, it continually rampages through the habitat of the silkweavers in search of it. Now, what was it?
Its child? Its missing head? Or something else?
Isidore narrowed his eyes, watching it depart into the heady gloom. Two hours had passed, and though his environment was exhausting, he had food and water to spare. He clicked his tongue, drawing Octavia’s attention once more, and pushed deeper into the forest, resetting his hourglass at the same time. One more hour, and then he will make his return. Just a six hour work day. Luxurious by his previous world’s standards.
The headless demon, would as Isidore leave, give another gurgling, guttural howl as it would seem to briefly deem nothing in the vicinity, before running off the direction Isidore had come from. Perhaps, it was for the best he did not engage. No telling what such a beast was capable of, and no telling if there were others around or not.
Onward he would press into the forest, the direction the behemoth came from. As he walked, he would slowly become aware of more of little rectangular cuts in the ground like the same as in the roots. They had been sparse and rare before, but the deeper into the forest he got, the more common they would become. They weren’t exclusive to the ground now, either.
He would too, spot other demonic creatures off in the distance. More hounds, and what appeared to be another of those juggernauts - but dead, or dormant…or sleeping. Its body was completely unmoving, the furnace within having been extinguished. It looked nothing more than an odd rock formation as it lay dormant. Odd, more of those cuts on it, too.
Soon, he’d see something perhaps, a bit uncharacteristic for the forest.
The red haze coloring everything would slowly lift as Isidore would come to the edge of a small drop in the floor. A large, unnatural, rectangular shaped cut in the ground about the size of a football field. Red, crackling energy would occasionally zap from the ground, and a number of rocks would litter the unnatural plain, seemingly shattered in half, those rectangular cuts at either end as though they had been severed at the middle and just tossed about.
More corpses too. Another juggernaut. A few piles of black sludge. A few hounds that seemed to have been cut in half as the roots and rocks had. The entire forest of roots had also been cut down, creating an unnatural clearing.
Octavia would whimper next to Isidore.
So his hypothesis was incorrect. It wasn’t looking for what it had lost. It was looking for whatever had caused this as it scrambled away. Isidore’s steps slowed as the area around him was transformed by whatever had caused this, his knuckles whitening as his grip tightened over the worn haft of his halberd. A halberd that, if it exchanged blows with whatever had caused this devastation, would simply be split in half. Another juggernaut laid on its side, whatever arcane work that gave it life having been extinguished with enough damage to its chassis. A silver lining then. Those walking forges could be killed.
Even if only by a physical force that he himself couldn’t generate.
“Octavia,” Isidore murmured, senses honed for any movement in the vicinity, “Bark if it gets dangerous.” He sucked in a breath, forcing his buzzing brain to cool down even as his heart rate increased to fervent levels. There was no fight, not yet, but Isidore was only resilient, not immortal. And his undying nature could be trumped easily by a singularly powerful strike that landed before his carapace began to thicken.
Cautiously, he approached the very edge of the depression, crouching down before it. That monolithic deer could wrought such destruction, but they were leagues away. The mountain-spanning worm could wrought such destruction, but no biological being could perform such a shallow, straight bite into flat stone. Sorcha and Rullphana could no doubt wrought such destruction, but if that’s the case, there was no mystery at all, and it did not explain the lightning that crackled either. So it was that crackling lightning, so much more forceful than the static shocks at the very entrance of this root forest, that Isidore would have to puzzle out, would have to extract. Removing the leather glove that covered his left hand, he furrowed his brow, visualizing the viscous, intangible energies that swirled within his blood. He did not know how batteries worked, did not even really remember what caused static shocks. The days of his youth had been spent on violence, the days of his maturation on enterprise.
It would be just metal then. Metal to tease out this bloodbright energy, to then seal it. A lightning rod, stretching out in the void, unable to release its charge. Iron, charred and smoking, molten and warped, but iron all the same.
He’ll get Vasserasa to foot the medical bill.
Isidore pressed his hand against the edge.
And so Isidore would focus on the lightning, and his own fire he would begin to start attempting to ‘pull’ it. A rod of metal, pulling in the crimson electrical energy towards him. It would initially, be somewhat slow. It was hard to ‘grab’ or ‘attract’ such erratic seeming energy. The way the lightning discharged was entirely random and impossible to predict, surging from the ground, the rocks, and even the dead juggernaut at random intervals.
Yet, soon he could see some visible progress. The energy would crawl along the ground, getting closer and closer - until the red energy would leap from the ground to Isidore, striking him with a high pitched electrical whine right in the closest part of his body - outstretched hand. The next he’d feel was intense pain as electrical energy would surge through him
His entire hand would start feeling unnaturally hot - and rather distressingly, it seems like the tips of his fingers were starting to be burned away, little flecks of rectangular black particles dissipating from where lightning met flesh. It was hard to tell if it was working, but it at least did seem as though he had drawn all the energy to him.
“Fuck!”
Even having braced himself, the agony that ripped into his body drew a cry from Isidore’s grit teeth as he stumbled away from the depression, his left hand twitching and spasming from the energy that surged and circulated within. Already, the flesh looked like it was carbonizing, tips blackening and flaking away, the sort of irreparable cellular damage that would have meant a lost hand back in the modern era. He had been aware of it of course, had even expected that he’d lose more than just the tips of his fingers. Had been resolved to it, knowing that magic which could heal existed in the world.
But, just like how being pepper sprayed would cause even the most hardened badass to cry, and just like how being tasered would cause even the most roided up goon to fall, there were some sensations that overrode all control of one’s body, through stimuli alone, and for a moment, Isidore found himself wholly willing to eject that lightning out once more, to simply report this area to Vasserasa, so that more knowledgeable investigators could puzzle out this incident.
And yet, he didn’t.
Because he wasn’t dead yet, and because he hadn’t exhausted every other option yet. His teachers thought Isidore as violent. His subordinates thought Isidore as merciless.
His wife knew him as stubborn.
His right hand clamped over his left, as if to physically pin the lightning there. Heat continued to rise and even in the gloom and shadow, Isidore saw his flesh began to swell and redden. So what? His skin was already stone. His blood was already fire. His stomach was already a furnace, his heart already an engine. If he could not claim dominion over what this artificial body of his was, how could he claim to accomplish any more than what he had in his previous life?
Eyes squeezed shut in concentration, mind forcing away the sensation of pain, both hands clenching as tightly as they could, Isidore refined his visualizations, picturing the scarlet lightning that had shot into his body, the lightning that he had tried to bottle. Batteries though, must not have truly captured lightning. No, lightning was not something to be captured to begin with, not when it moved faster than any of mankind’s creations. Sorcha flashed through his fevered thoughts, so swift that her physical form could blink out of existence, the distance between the two closed between the beats of his heart.
Lightning was not stilled. Lightning was constantly in motion, so long as one granted it such. He would grant it such.
Isidore knew nothing of the fine profession of electrical engineering, but he had stripped copper from wiring before to make some spare change. Electricity traveled through copper. Circuitry guided lightning. So he would guide it too. From the furnace of his stomach, he envisioned the smelting of ore, golden lines gleaming bright, materializing within the fiery veins that boiled within his left hand. Rudimentary circuitry, all connected, all coiled, forming an endless pathway for that cursed lightning to travel through. Now, all he had to do was to connect it.
A breath. Blisters were forming now, bulbous and grotesque, pus geysering out. Two hours away from civilization if things continued to go poorly. Couldn’t totally trust that Octavia wouldn’t attack him if he showed too much weakness either. And this was only the side effect of whatever creature had wrought so much damage.
Fuck off though.
Isidore still hadn’t hit his limits.
“Switch on.”
Engine beating. Blood boiling. Fiery breath. Every engine he possessed had activated, straining against this foreign energy that Isidore was attempting to tame. His body was screaming, burning, telling him to release, yet, stubborn as he was he did not.
From his fiery blood, the crimson lightning would begin traveling through his body. Up his arm, now that he was guiding it it seemed to be burning him less as it moved. Was that the secret then? Perhaps so. From his arm, it would then travel down the left side of his body, towards his stomach. Now he could even see a visible effect on the surrounding area as the amount of crackling energy and lightning seemed to lessen the more he drew it in. From his stomach, it would travel up towards his heart. A dangerous notion, letting electricity near such an important organ.
Yet, it seemed to indeed be working. As long as he kept the energy moving, it seemed he’d have no further adverse effects save for excruciating pain in his hand, and mild burns upon the rest of this skin where his carapace would start hardening to protect him…but then, what would he do with this energy? He had taken most of it, and it seemed like it’d start burning, disintegrating him again if he let it stay still. Perhaps there was a way to absorb it into the engine he had so carefully made himself.
If it was just pain, that made it easier. Sweat continued to bead down his brow, stinging into his eyes, but Isidore gradually released his grip over his own wrist. That energy was circulating properly now, his veins converted into circuitry, fireblood into molten metals. He had given lightning direction. Now, he needed to give it a function.
Gathering his feet in front of him, Isidore sat in a cross-legged position and maintained his deep breaths. In and out, tension leaving his jaw as he forced himself to relax. The fervor left his heart. The flames faded to coal within his core. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he turned his scorched left hand upwards to the ceiling, resting close to his navel, while his right hand turned downwards, overtop his left hand.
Fuel. Furnace. Engine. An engine that generated further power, but directionless power. Now, with lightning still wrecking havoc, still cooking his left hand from the inside even though it no longer disintegrated his body, Isidore continued to up his ante. The heart, the engine, granted power. But the nerves, both autonomous and voluntary, granted movement and finesse, sensation and adaptation.
The circuitry reworked itself, disassociating from his blood and seeping into his flesh, spreading out from his heart to connect with the innumerable nerves that truly controlled the contraction and contortion of his muscles.
If the heart was the engine, the nerves were the steering system, the dashboard, the pedals. He had already risked his body thrice over for the purpose of amateur experimentation. What was another go?
A thin, nervous smile crested his features, a smile that he could only allow because Octavia couldn’t speak. To imagine that this was just the first day in Old Naraheim. To imagine that this was just him collecting a sample of a suspicious phenomenon.
Isidore allowed it to flow.
The energy coursed through his veins. Seething, burning…but controlled. A few errant sparks would blast from his hands, sparking and arcing between the two until eventually the pain would ebb away. It seemed as long as it circulated through his body in some manner, it was harmless enough, but there was overall no telling what exactly this energy even was in the end. A brief look at his hand, Isidore would note that the tips of his fingers had…well, disintegrated. Miniscule, rectangular cuts where the lightning had burned them. It seemed this lightning itself was responsible for those rectangular holes, burning - or perhaps completely disintegrating whatever it touched in such a precise fashion.
Perhaps he could do this exact thing with other magical energy somehow?
Skill Acquired: Mana Redirect A skill allowing one to redirect magical energy tossed at them from any supernatural source. Rather than absorbing and meshing it with your own, you redirect it to some other purpose, thus weakening its effects upon you as you turn it towards something else. Generally, this will work with everything but some sources of energy would be far too strong to completely deflect, and some are easier to work with then others.
Skill Acquired: Crimson Lightning (???) You’ve absorbed some unknown power. This power is constantly burning within your body, what exactly it is you don’t know, but it no longer at least seems harmful to you and seems to self-replenish enough for you to use it. Just what is the nature of this stolen power? You can likely release it if you wish, and turn it on your foes. However, it does not travel far through the air - it seems like it travels further through physical medium.
Regardless, Isidore would have seemed to succeed, but unfortunately for Isidore, as he’d refocus on his surroundings he’d feel Octavia pulling on the leg of his pants, whining and tugging harshly on his leg to get his attention.
Perhaps he should have thought that whatever made this was still nearby.
There was a hum of energy, crackling under him. More of that red lightning as the whining, whirring sound of electricity would fill his ears. A flash of red in the distance, shooting from the forest floor into the sky, before arcing right towards him!
Senses twitching, synapses firing, nerves ablaze with stimuli. No time for emotion to rise, no time for thoughts to crystallize. Scarlet light reflected in Isidore’s eyes, his right hand swatting Octavia away from him as his left hand rose up to meet the near-impossibly fast bolt.
Do or die. And no matter the result, don’t look back.
Isidore would raise a hand, attempting to deflect the bolt of crimson lightning. However - he would find that quite impossible. The moment the lightning would impact his left hand, instead of some ethereal, intangible power it would grab something quite solid.
“Tch, of course…”
Amidst the electricity he heard a voice, very briefly as the object in his grasp would twist slightly, turning in his hand. Next, was more pain. Something slammed into the side of his head, electrical burns as he was quite literally blasted yards away from the impact, landing face first against a tree root. Blood ran down his face. Something felt broken. The bolt of lightning would would continue its trajectory, landing right on the ground where he had been, slamming into the ground and soon dissipating into the ground beneath it.
Well, they looked vaguely human. Pointed ears. Black horns jutting from their forehead, tipped with a crimson red. Red and black thigh-high boots and heels. Long, pink hair in a braid fell to her feet. She was dressed in what seemed to be some sort of corset, with a leotard underneath in perhaps, some mock of what Isidore would know to be victorian fashion. A cloak hung from her shoulders, covering what little she seemed to be wearing elsewhere.
No visible weapons were seen on her, save for a cage hanging from her belt. Under her feet where she landed, the ground seemed to disintegrate into those little black rectangles as the same red electricity arced across her own body, leaving burn marks on the ground where she’d walk.
The source of the crimson lightning was likely to be this demon, then.
“First that bitch has the audacity to wake me from a nap, then I find some dumb bugs in the forest that won’t leave me alone, and finally some human wanders in here.” She’d laughed, but she wasn’t smiling. “Well, unlucky for you, I’m in a foul mood. Don’t worry, I’ll put that blood of yours to good use after I beat it out of you.”
She’d crack her knuckles, flexing a hand. Isidore didn’t have long to recover from the blow to the head.
"Heheh, aren't you a cute thing." Kokoma would take her time a bit, not wanting to spook the cub a bit too much. There was a method to this sort of thing, wasn't it? In the game she'd just have to defeat it under special conditions, or rarely find the egg or cub of some creature since she doubted this was some special thing like an Arachne. Hmm, well, since this was no longer looking to be a game...Probably no different than treating it like a normal wild cat? Slow, gentle...and then if it decided to get feisty, just look bigger and if it turned out that wild cat was a lion - pile drive it into the ground and show no mercy.
Wait no, that wasn't right.
"No need to be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt ya. Where are your parents at?" She'd question, stopping her attempts to free it for the moment. Instead, she'd get low to the ground, crouching not far away and holding out a hand. "See? I'm a friend! Not scary in the slightest!"
Calls of beasts, ripe for hunting. Birds, insects, flitting about freely in their domain. Unidentifiable noises, likely of some animal or beast that would make for a fine hunt. Ah, it was hard. Hard not to just break away from the group and do just that. As the Goddess of Hunting, the prospect of hunting something she had never hunted before was a powerful compulsion, to ignore it was practically driving her crazy. If she hadn't managed to get a good workout on those humans above, she might just find herself dragging her benefactor through the forest on a hunt. A good thing she didn't, since Flora looked like she was ready to pass out any second now. Thankfully Ashte had taken care of giving the girl a helping hand. She was a bit annoyed she couldn't do it herself, but she was better suited to handling anything that came their way than looking after mortals currently.
Was it bad to hope they were accosted by a beast?
"Ah, this forest almost reminds me of the forests surrounding the desert...Though the trees feel larger and creatures unfamiliar..." Alasayana would idly comment, having decided to take point. If nothing else, her keen senses would be able to detect most immediate threats before they were attacked, hopefully...well, supposing they hadn't entirely degraded as the rest of her abilities had. She could at least tell, there were large creatures further in. "I'm curious to how the beasts of this era would fare against I."
The trek back would be simple and easy, the forest not impeding their steps as they’d travel. The hunters would obediently follow their captors, not wanting to risk their lives any more than they’d have too. If nothing else, they did indeed seem entirely pacified. That just left what to do with them, and if Akando was right…that meant exile.
The only interruption they’d hear, is the sound of some commotion and the bright flash of some light descending somewhere to their south west towards the obelisk where the majority of them had found themselves first in this world at.
“Heheh, if there’s something I’m good at, its doing things under pressure. Probably. Never actually been under any sorta time constraint before.” Lazhira responded with a grin. “So, what are we doing?” Lazhira would ask Misaki, before quickly grabbing the fox girls hand and dragging her out of the tent seemingly forgetting that her life had just been likely in danger not too long ago. At least she was in eternal high spirits it seemed.
Soon they had come back to Lazhiras cabin. The loss of the water was, well, annoying but could easily be gotten again. Many of the plant had been rendered unusable, but there was maybe enough for at least, a single sheet left to show off.
“I think…you were boiling water?” Lazhira would question, though Misaki wouldn’t get many seconds to answer before a familiar fawn would nearly tackle her when it came out of hiding from the other side of the house. She could sense a faint hint of worry and relief with it, and also a bit of perhaps regret at not being able to help her itself.
Of course, this might have been briefly halted by the light show clearly going on at the Obelisk. Understandably, Lazhira’s eyes seemed fixed on it, and Misaki could clearly see the girl had an obvious desire to see what was going on over there.
“No problem, at all.” Mie would grin. “Its my job to make sure my customer is taken care of.” Which would leave Narkissa with the tools to do work with. So she’d get to work getting the rest of the tools together. A large cloth bag was easy enough to find, one that could hold a large quantity of blackpowder. There was also a mortar and pestle among the tools that could likely be used to grind everything up.
Wood was similarly likely easy enough to find again, either back at the lumberjacks place or cutting it down herself. Anything else, though, seemed like she was going to need a few custom tools, though she could likely find some applicable at the craftsmans place.
There was also some sort of odd lightshow going on at the Obelisk. Wasn’t that where Leannah was heading?
The knife would sink into the skeletal hounds head, cracking bone as the knife was driven into it…though, what exactly the knife was meant to do to a skeletal being, remained to be seen. It would at least, however, give a whine of mild annoyance and release his leg long enough for Nicholas to scramble for his next action. A makeshift flamethrower.
A sip of oil…and a stream of fire would launch itself from the torch. Firebreathing in such a way was fairly easy to do by trained professionals back on earth…but Nicholas was neither trained or a professional. As the stream of fire sailed through the air, landing right on the hound that had bit him it would give a hiss of pain before clearly backing off. The second that had missed the lunge from earlier would turn, only to be met with another jet of flame from Nicholas.
They were certainly burned, and it seemed their canine instincts had taken over a bit, cautiously now looking at Nicholas like he might not be worth it…and thankfully for him, it seemed like they wouldn’t be pursuing further for the moment. Raising their heads towards the village and towards the snow field, they’d quickly lose interest in their current quarry before barking and heading off.
It was now that Nicholas might realize it felt like the edges of his mouth and cheeks had been burned slightly - the gout of fire backfiring a little, quite literally. It really was lucky he didn’t get hurt more than that.
It would be easy enough to follow the red hooded figure. They had left a rather obvious trail leading into the forest.
Donovan grunted as he rose to his feet, stretching his arm and back as he turned to welcome Akando, "Ah, there yah are Akando, an' with good news tah boot!" the large man chuckled merrily. However, before he could question the hunter further on what he'd learned from the questioning, a familiar voice caught Don's attention.
"Honestleh aye'm more of ah dog person meself, but that ain't important right now. Th' lass is ah friend ah mine, an' she's someone weh can trust tah help what we're doin." he'd respond to Eirhild before waving back to approaching feline.
"Leannah! Didn't know yah were in Dawn! Aye'd ah found yah sooner if aye did!"
The female feline raised an eyebrow at Eirhild, but as she approached Don she gave a small laugh as she looked the man over. Intact and alive. Far more than she’d had hope for a few days ago. Even so, she gave the man a simple hug before stepping back. Was enough to show how happy she was, if her swishing Bastelian tail was not already any indication.
”Donovan! I would have done the same if I had known you were around! Even Malphas if I ran into him at this point. Feel like I was a tad harsh back there, as new as it all was.
Just glad to see you alive to be honest. Even walked along with Narkissa and ran into a scholar and gracious host in Dawn who has been...more than kind to be frank. Giving us housing and space, food, and even magic practice. It’s...ahem.”
Her words trailed off a little as she thought of Lazhira, spacing out slightly before shaking her head and trying to get to the point.
“Basically it's been a hell of a lot busier since, well, we were all in ‘that’ place. Might have tried to fight that Guardian there before running. Learned a bit of the history about it in the last few days even.”
Leannah gestured toward the obelisk with her head, a sigh escaping her lips.
“Seems I am a member of a not-so-well-loved race when it comes to locals too...maybe more, with how your other companion seems to look at me. Also played a game with the mad God of Knowledge and got half burned trying to not die to get information.
To even try to summarize any more of what I’ve seen and heard any more would take a lot longer than it seems you might have the time for though. You probably have your own stories to boot, and frankly you seem to have something going on right now at that.”
“Eh, sorry lass didn’t mean anything by it.” Eirhild said with a sheepish smile. “We don’t really know much about Bastelians. Us dwarves, that is. We keep to ourselves mostly. We occasionally trade harpy feathers with them - make pretty good pillows - but otherwise we give ya’ll a wide berth. Don’t wanna end up in some raiding party…”
Leannah glanced over at the sheepish dwarf, before the Bastelian rubbed the back of her own head. The Sage’s warnings, if she remembered correctly, came most definitely to mind. Do not just go about blabbing the full truth to everyone...could be a very bad thing indeed. Could put her on the hit list of some beings in this world.
Still...
“Truth is, I’ve never known my own people. Not that one or two things I’ve done have disproven what people seem to think about Bastelians. But whatever the case, I’ve only ever been about humans so far in my life.
From the sounds of it, it seems the rest of my kin are something of raiders and pillagers and not very hospitable to be around...or on the wrong end of their ire to be sure. Want to head over and see what they’re like with my own two eyes one day, but before then I have some things I need to get done.”
“More help is always welcome.” Akando would respond in turn. “Er, Leannah was it. Akando. I’m helping Donovan…” He’d turn his head to the older man. “The other two are heading back to the village with the others. They said something about a seal and that they were just doing what they thought was best…” He’d relay to the other man. “But what are we doing here? Mostly no one but Lazhira comes here. That thing…spooks people sometimes.”
The Bastelian raised an eyebrow for a moment, but swiftly chased off the look of curiosity as she nodded toward the Hunter. The fact it was two hunters, the same amount who had come to try to nab Lazhira, that had returned to the village left a slightly sour taste in the feminine feline’s mouth. It confirmed Akando had been kept out of the loop by Soyala and the rest of the Hunters, that was for sure. However, now was perhaps not the time to break the news to him about-
Donovan listened carefully to what Leannah said, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his chin as his eyes took on an almost gentle luster. He’d need to ask Leannah a bit more about this host of hers after he’d secured what they came here for-- as it was highly likely that any further magically skilled individuals in Dawn had connections to the seal’s sabotage.
"While aye’d love tah swap stories bout’ what weh been through since leavin’ ‘that’ place, yeh seem tah alreadeh know why weh don’t got tha’ time tah do et. Th’ seal’s on tha’ verge ah bustin’ wide open, an’ there ain't much time tah stop et… Based on what Akando’s said, seems mah gut feelin’ were right after all. Someone’s playin’ tha hunters an’ Kyrnith against each other, tryna buy time fer th’ seal tah break before they can be found out. Ain’t sure if et’s th’ Illuminator er not, but one thing’s fer certain… That seal’s gonnah break, an’ ain’t none of us can stop et… They’ve alreadeh won."
Donovan paused for a moment, raising a single finger as a wry grin crept across his face, "But what if aye told yah we got a new seal readeh tah throw down on top ah th’ failin’ one? Aye, et’ll take a bit ah work fer th’ final preparations an’ activation… But weh’d snatch victoreh from right under th’ enemy’s nose. Now, aye dunno bout you-- but if aye been spendin’ years on ah scheme, got victoreh in mah grasp, onleh tah find out some bastard were about tah turn th’ tables at th’ last moment on meh, aye’d come runnin’ tah stop et… Now, that there obelisk es connected tah ah ruin what’s got exactleh what weh need. Ah replacement fer th’ seal ripe fer th’ takin’. Weh make ah show ah headin’ over tah use it... Well, aye think our culprit’ll beh forced intah th’ open--” Donovan explained, his smile giving way to a far more serious expression as he went on to explains the risks, "But th’ ruin we’re headin’ intah is FAR from safe. Last aye saw there were ah big ol’ demon plant fightin’ ah pissed off pile ah livin’ rocks in there, an’ aye didn’t stick around tah see who won. Best case, tha both of em’ are dead. Worst case, weh gotta cut our way through ah fuckton ah nightmarish plant things that can cause yah a fate worse n’ death… Now, aye got means ah puttin’ tha damn things down an’ clearin’ they taint from folk-- but aye need tah know that tha lot ah yah understand what we’re headed intah, an’ won’t regret followin’ meh in here… So then, Akando, Eirhild, an’ ah course you included Leannah since yer here-- will yah follah meh intah what might damn well be hell tah save this village?"
Leannah froze in place, a cold chill running down her back at Donovan’s first revelations. In her mind, the fact that the seal was going to collapse anyway was far from good news. The Goddess had secured enough chaos in the village already, though the catgirl nearly would’ve hugged Donovan again at hearing his plan. She had been behind in a lot of areas, but it seemed the man had enough of an idea to help with the problem...and by driving out the root of the issue it would make punching it in the face far easier.
“Well, it’ll be the second time for me so I’ll join along. Just...if the big guy is still roaming around, let me buy you all time.”
That thing was not going to play nice, but neither was she if it was still around. If it was. For all she knew the place had time passing differently within and was already rotted away. All she knew was the Illuminator’s divine realm was something strange, those monstrous things were potentially wandering around as well, and if there was a chance she could get a spear or her old one back that would be nice. On the note of the Illuminator and things, though...
“...And, ah, Donovan. I will need to talk to you and Akando on the way back after this little adventure. Very seriously.
But if we wait any longer right now and that seal breaks, there won’t be a moment to talk in the first place.”
“Well, Donovan.” Eirhild would say. “I already agreed to help. Might be able to find some rare materials here…but I don’t see any sorta ruin or nightmare plant? You sure we’re in the right place?”
“I’m already here. I see no reason to refuse.” Akando would say with a determined nod.
"Right then," Donovan would respond with a nod of his own, pulling off his necklace with his right hand as he approached the black obelisk at the cliffside, "Get them torches readeh. Anythin’ that looks like tar– burn et. Once weh get in, call out any an’ all movement yah see, even if yah think it were just ah trick o’ tha light. If yah get wounded by somethin’, tell meh immediately… Else yah might end up as ah demon thrall if aye don’t cleanse tha’ taint quick enuff… That’s all aye got left tah warn yah bout’, aye’m gonna open th’ path.”
Holding his emblem to the face of the obelisk, Donovan closed his eyes and began his prayer; his magic surging through every syllable that passed his lips. "Oh Suthainn, aye call upon yer power– may th’ path long forgotten lay open once more. Show us th’ way to th’ land ah twin moons… Guide us tah where this journey began. Take us home again; tah our place ah beginnings. Amen."
Donovan’s gathered group would nod in, at least, some understanding even if they weren’t a hundred percent sure what he was speaking about.
So Donovan would start to entreat his divine patron. A simple prayer, really…but sometimes the simplest things were the most difficult things to achieve. A few seconds after he’d finish, he would have his answer. Suddenly, that little bit of stored divine mana he had would vanish near instantly. A small prick of light would appear at the bottom of the obelisk in the center. The emblem would start becoming hot in his hand, as more of this prayer would drain more and more of the magical energy Donovan had, and as more was drained, the small prick of light on the obelisk would slowly travel upwards, forming a line heading for the top of it.
The only concern…was that he wasn’t going to have enough energy by himself to do this. He had already completely spent nearly half, and it was barely a third ‘open’. It seemed like the obelisk was completely eating his stored reserves now.
As she noticed the light stop moving upward on the obelisk, Leannah felt an inkling that something was wrong. Not with the obelisk perchance, though she needed to ask who ‘Suthainn’ was eventually, but with what little she knew of ‘magic’ here she had a suspicion this was taking something out of Donovan as well. Like some magic ritual….in that case, he wasn’t going to be alone!
The Bastelian hurried over to Donovan, placing her hands on his back and closing her own eyes. Focus. Concentrate. Channel her own magical energy into the other man, like the flow of a river. It wasn’t a spell that should go crazy, it was related to light or the sun at least, but just moving that magical energy into him nice and evenly and smoothly was the focus. In. Out. Like focusing on her martial arts training.
Leannah would focus on transferring her own magic into Donovan. Her own breathing. The beating of her heart. The sounds of the ocean below…the feeling of her own magic, moving within her. It would take a bit of focus but she could eventually feel that of Donovans - and she was right to be concerned. It was attempting to suck out nearly every ounce of magical energy from him.
Like filling a bucket with a hole, she’d start pouring her own into Donovan - though it was draining faster than she could fill it. Would it work? The line of light traveling up the obelisk was moving faster, now about halfway.
Donovan would feel his entire body grow hot, and the emblem in his hand even hotter. Flesh searing and burning into his right hand. Sweat would form. His legs would feel weak, not wanting to support his weight. His stomach wanted to throw up whatever it was he had eaten recently. He could barely keep his own arm held out, as though his entire body was simply rejecting this action.
Ever so slowly, the light would continue moving up - and for a brief moment…it would look like to the both they weren’t going to have enough, even combined. The light had peaked just under the apex of the obelisk. Akando and Eirhild were shouting something, likely out of concern, but he couldn’t exactly make out what. His hearing had temporarily left, ears ringing with the sound of gears grinding, the pendulum of a clock swaying. There was definitely something keeping him standing…something tightly coiling around his legs, keeping him upright.
And then, with a final lurch the light would finally ascend to the apex of the obelisk. All at once Donovan would lose his footing, unable to stand anymore, whatever it was holding him up releasing him.
The ordeal of opening the path felt as if it took a small eternity to Don. Any thought he’d had was replaced with the sound of mechanisms and clockwork combined with the absolute agony that had become his reality. Even as the flesh of his own palm bubbled, blistered and burned, the man couldn’t even muster a scream; his breath violently ripped from his very lungs. He wanted to fall, to collapse, to faint– anything to put an end to what he was feeling. No matter how much he may have wanted to fall to his knees, to cry out, to lurch away… He couldn’t. Only when the ritual had reached completion did the man’s knees finally give way, Donovan’s body collapsing onto the snow-covered ground like a child’s discarded toy as the world faded from his vision.
However, Donovan would not get too long to rest.
The moment the light reached the top of the obelisk, it would grow in size to that of a small baseball, a sphere of light that would suddenly shoot a thin laser of light at the base of the structure.
“W-what did you do?” Eirhild would shout in question. Akando said nothing, merely quickly dashed over to help Leannah support Donovan so he didn't crumple on the ground like a rock.
The laser would quickly travel across the ground in a straight line, until it would shoot towards the horizon, far out at sea. A blink of light from far off. The image of a large, black tower would flash in the distance. The laser would travel upwards more, until it was completely vertical and shooting towards the distant sky.
“Sages blood…what on earth…” Eirhild could only watch the proceeding event as a pillar of light would descend upon the Obelisk. A flash of monochrome. The base of the Obelisk would slowly start to move. The smooth stone slowly splitting, moving apart at the middle of it, the sound of stone clacking against each other as they would magically be pulled apart, until they would rearrange themselves into what was ostensibly, a doorway.
Through the door, one could see not the interior or other side of the obelisk…but a monochrome colored world. Perhaps, though it was the other side of the obelisk. If one happened to take a moment to look, it was easy to see - the way this cliff connected to the otherside of the door was far too contiguous to be coincidence.
Regardless, Donovan seemed to have completed that which he set out to do. The door was large enough to get the carts through comfortably - but at the same time, it did not seem like the door would be open for long.
The Bastelian appreciated the help from Akando to support Donovan, though as soon as the gate was open the feminine feline grimly gritted her teeth and gestured with her head toward the cart with her head. She did her best to try to put one of Donovan’s arms around the back of her neck, mostly so she could support one side of the man and Akando the other. It was go time.
“Donovan, you absolute idiot!
Akando, help me get Donovan into the cart for the moment. Then please stay with him to keep an eye on our rear in case anyone approaches.
And Eirhild, can you steer the cart through the portal? If that was a sign to anyone that we’re up to something here, then that was one. So we have to get moving fast if we want to get this seal and get back out in time.
I can explain what this place is later, but safe to say I and Donovan have been there before. So take these warnings to heart.”
If things went as Leannah tried to help organize it, she would help load up Donovan before moving back toward the front of the cart and motioning for the other two to follow in it. She would stop at the front of the Gateway for only a few seconds to speak in turn before she would head through with the cart and company right behind her (optimally).
“I’ll head through with you, but will be in front and the first to pass through. Just in case anything lies ahead of us right as we go in. If you see anything that looks like demons or something that was once human, aim to kill. They won’t give you the time of day.
If you see a giant stone golem walking around, you leave it to me and take a different path in a hurry and don’t look back.
If you see ancient weapons lying on the ground, feel free to pick them up for your own use or something but don’t get stopped by it. This path doesn’t seem like it will last too long.
If anyone tries to come up behind us or after us into this place, assume they are a threat that wants to stop us. No matter who or what they are, familiar or friend or unknown alike. For all we know the one causing the trouble in Dawn is going to approach us if they get here in time…or will try to keep us from getting out in time if they can get here in time.”
Leannah didn’t have to tell Akando twice. He’d grab Donovan by the shoulder, lifting him to his feet and with the help of the Bastelian and dwarf he’d soon be slumped over on the cart next to Eirhild.
“Gotcha lass, moving in.” The dwarf would respond. While she had many questions, she also knew better than to ask anything now it seemed as she’d give the reigns a little pull, and the Kin pulling them would give a complainative huff before starting to move towards the gate behind Leannah. “Stone giant, dangerous. Plants also bad. Sounds like a bad night after drinkin’ too much in Gloomhaven.” She’d chuckle. “Free weapons though, that sounds fun.”
“The village definitely noticed whatever…this was, but if we hurry no one should be able to come to us.” Akando would say, grabbing the reins on the second cart and urging the beast to move forwards.
As the carts began to move, Donovan found himself unceremoniously jettisoned from the void of unconsciousness and back in the waking world. The man stirred with a groan as his bleary eyes hazily scanned his surroundings. "Eugh, aye know that weren't gonna beh pleasant, but aye didn't think et'd be that bad… Guess weh know why them scholar don't let nobodeh near th' one in yer hall ah records eh Eirhild?"
Donovan managed to force a weak chuckle before it devolved into a small coughing fit. "Aye… Aye think aye'm gonna take ah wee bit yah get meself sorted… Just get us in there fore' that damned thing closes."
The large man lifted his palm to his mouth, and pried the emblem from his palm; melted skin sticking to the metal like overcooked cheese. Don slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes; the emblem held tightly between his teeth. He felt drained of life. Completely damned empty. A walking husk. But… Around him he could feel that familiar buzzing energy, slowly working it's way inside him with every breath. Only-- it didn't seem to be helping much… Compared to what even a fleck of what the small bit of divine magic he'd managed to stockpile earlier, what he was taking in now was like drinking day-old water to rehydrate during a sweltering day in the sun. It was a damned shame it took so much effort to get it to co-exist with the regular stuff… But what if there wasn't any regular magic to butt heads with? An idea surfaced in Donovan's mind… One that had the potential to make the backlash from that hellish ritual work to his benefit instead.
He couldn't help but smile.
Passing through would cause their skin to feel as though they were moving through some sort of thin film, a shortness of brief breath as they’d ultimately pass through the gate. Leannah and Don, returning to where they had been a few days prior. As he was pulled along the cart, barely conscious, Donovan would turn his Focus on the emblem, he would attempt to channel whatever energy he could through it, and return it to himself.
In. Out. Steady breathing. It was a rather dangerous thing to attempt. He could feel his strength start slipping further the moment he began. Converting it outside of his body seemed to be more tiring than when it was inside, like trying to breathe in a vacuum, but the moment he contained it within himself he’d notice the effects - that is to say, it was working, at least somewhat. It would return to the miniscule amount that it had been earlier, and soon, it would be more. Nearly doubling in the amount contained - and then it would abruptly stop becoming less like sucking and more like attempting to breathe despite one's lungs already full.
Regardless though, it seemed the brief focus was able to completely return his mana to him plus a little extra.
Ability Gained: Divine Meditation (lesser) A simple enough skill. By focusing ones meditative attempts through faith and divine imagery, one may both increase the speed at which ones energy regenerates and perhaps, house just a bit more. Be warned, however - such power is not without risk to ones humanity.
In total, it would take about five minutes fully to get his energy back. Not something useful in the midst of full combat, but overall something useful indeed.
“What…on earth is this place…” Akando’s voice would break his concentration as they’d arrive back in the field where they had fled for their lives earlier. At least, what remained of it.
It was now a massive sinkhole, leading right down to where that demonic plant had been earlier. The stone golem lay there, dead, lifeless, with vines and plants having restrained it. The joints in its body though, still glowed a faint blue occasionally. Oddly, there didn’t seem to be any thralls left…none alive at least. It was hard to make out from at the top of the sinkhole, but there seemed to be numerous corpses of what were once thralls. The plant itself had wilted completely, the flowers petals all having rotted and withered away, leaving nothing but a lifeless husk.
“...oi, are these dwarvish?!” Eirhild would ask, hopping from the cart in her excitement and heading over to where a few weapons had been scattered. “I think they are! These look like the old weapons those dumb scholars keep under lock and key in their vaults!” She wasn’t seeming to refer to any one in particular, but rather, the entirety of the weapons left here.
Unbeknownst to the group however, a little fox had followed them in, quickly darting to the old guardhouse while they were focused on the area in front of them.
“Well, since I already have a decent grasp of what you can do,” Rullphana would say with a nod. “We’ll start by pushing those talents of yours to the limits - creatively, at least. Magic, if used creatively, can overcome any obstacle. Don’t worry, you won’t be in danger.”
Leuca was currently concentrating hard on her own task, frowning. Augusta could tell she was channeling magic towards the pile of earth, but it was weak. She definitely wasn’t used to using it, but still…a few seconds later a small sprout would rise from the earthen mound.
“Ah…I did it!”
“Indeed…now do it again. Faster this time.” Rullphana would say to Leuca. “I want a different plant in each of those pots by the time I return. The seeds I have are highly reactive to magic, and will change depending on what sort of mana they're exposed to. Get to it.”
“E-eh!? O-okay I think…I can do that…”
“Augusta, if you’ll follow me…” Rullphana would lead Augusta to the back wall of the tower, where a door would quite literally, just open in front as the wall of the giant mushroom would pull back, leading to a set of stairs that headed upwards. “You’ve managed to successfully, somehow, blend both healing magic and fire magic. Some would consider this contradictory, but those who understand the nature of both of these elements will see that they are not quite as incompatible. While I don’t think you showed me what you are fully capable of…you clearly have both the basics and control down, and at least understand the fundamental ability that magic can shift depending on the will of the one casting it.” She would fix Augusta with a quizzical, expectant gaze. “But before I go on, what do you expect to get out of learning magic? And is there anything specifically you wish to learn? I will offer guidance where I am able, but ultimately if you’re at this point discovery will rely on your own intuition or sharing what I know.”
He’d sit there, edge of the water, contemplating his situation. Whatever went on in there? Well, only he knew in the end, and perhaps, even the divine beings of this realm since they seemed the curious and invasive sort. The gentle breeze would chill his skin with a wintry, sea air as he’d think of these things.
What really did it mean to be human? Love life? Indulge in ones pleasures, as they saw fit? Simply believing in oneself above all else? If so, then, what of his previous cult. He made people believe in him above all else. Would he let their faith go to waste so easily? Or was this him furthering such things, believing that he was indeed, a human of peak perfection?
Only time would tell, in the end.
Suddenly something would snag on his fishing rod. Something strong enough to cause him to temporarily struggle as the line was pulled. But soon, he would indeed, pull it up, landing his catch.
A fish.
An absolutely massive fish, from the look of it. It was about as long as his arm-span and about a foot from its belly to the top of its spines. Heavy too. Perhaps it was a sign of success…but that would mean he’d even think such things exist. No, this gargantuan fish would be all thanks to his expertise and human ability, of course.
“Gods…that’s one of the rarest fish in these parts!” A nearby fisherman would shout. “Normally they’re only found on the long days…” Before Malphas had a chance to consider his victory though, an Oni would make his way over.
“Fishing, huh…respectable pastime.” It’d comment. “Nomura, Lady Mie wishes to see you.”
Of course, felling a tree needed a definitely hearty call out to go with it!
"Timberrrr-ah?"
What she was not expecting though, was the sound of an animal being caught in it. Was something using it as a sleeping place when she had started to get to work? Well damn. How did she not notice? She was focused but...well, no, that didn't matter. If some little animal was hurt, that was just bad all around wasn't it? Kokoma would lay her spear on the ground and quietly approach the sound of the kitten yowling.
"Hey hey..." She'd say quietly as she'd locate where exactly the cries were coming from. A sabertooth kitten of some sort...aw, it was so cute. Also likely in pain. Right she needed to fix that. Had it gotten stuck under the tree branches as it fell? Easy enough problem to solve if it was. "Shh, shh, its okay I'll get you out."
That left some questions though...where were this kittens parents? What was it doing here by its self...if they were nearby then that was going to get somewhat messy real quick if they heard it. If not, then she couldn't just leave this little cub by itself, could she?
The group of hunters were silent, frozen with obvious fear as Nobunaga would determine their fate, and soon, their fates were handed down. Novak would move swiftly. They all had ropes on them as some sort of standard gear it seemed, likely for snares, tying living prey to restrain, and nets and the like. The hunters would not resist being restrained, and soon with their hands tied and any dangerous items on them gone, they would be completely at their mercy.
It was just for a moment, but the group could feel the wind slowly shifting, as though it had calmed itself.
“...It seems you two have this handled.” Akando would say, nodding to the two. “As chief, Enli will decide their punishment. I don’t know how it is done where you two are from, but…exile, is likely what he will choose.” The hunter would sigh, shaking his head. “I’ll let you take care of them. Donovan asked to meet me at the old ruin on the cliff just outside the city.” Unless stopped, he would swiftly leave and make his way there.
The rest would merely grumble - and assuming Nobunaga had nothing else to say or do with them, they would quietly follow her back to the village.
“T-the hag?” The hunter would frown. “B-but the hag-they-left!” The hunter would say as he would be untied slowly. “W-well vanished! We don’t know…but when the old man came to us again, and he said the hag was dead…” He would get to his feet, wincing a bit in pain as he’d tell Leannah this. “If you’ve been in contact with them - then…why? And where?” That was probably not what she was expecting to hear. Regardless though, she wouldn’t be able to interrogate him for long if she wanted to keep up with Donovan before he was gone.
The Oni would frown at the request, not really wondering why he was being made to be a courier, but ultimately didn’t want to take the chance of upsetting Mie’s apparent guest. He’d walk off to find the recipient not long after she would bolt after Donovan.
As Mie left to do business with Narkissa, Lazhira would seemingly relax a bit, leaning back in and holding her body up with her arms as she’d look to the ceiling. She’d frown, seemingly thinking about a few things. Understandable, really…the girl probably had a lot on her mind all things considered, but soon she’d be grinning and looking over to Misaki.
“Things, huh…Hey, maybe I can help ya finish?” She’d ask the fox girl. “In return…you can let me touch your tail!” Misaki should have probably been expecting her to make an attempt to at some point. Of course, she could probably get her to help even without that condition.
“Well, Misaki…perhaps you we can discuss more of these projects at length once we’re on the road, hm?” Mie would however, turn her attention back to Narkissa. She would motion for the other woman to follow her out of the tent as she’d go over the things she wanted from her. She’d hold a hand to her chin, narrowing her eyes as Narkissa finished.
“Brimstone…Niter. Now why would you…” Mie would cut herself off with a smirk. “Well, first things first. Lets get you those. its none of my business what the customer does. Luckily for you, the one who wrote that knew why to send you to me.” She’d continue moving through the camp, moving to one of the storage tents that seemed to have a bit more security than the others. She’d tell one of the guards to go fetch her a bag of Charcoal before motioning for Narkissa to wait outside for a few seconds while she disappeared within, though wouldn’t keep her waiting for long. Soon she’d come out with a medium sized box of Sulfur.
“I keep some on hand for…reasons.” She’d open it, and Narkissa would be greeted with the smell of rotten eggs. The box was about a foot tall, and about six inches tall. Inside were about a dozen pieces of sulfur wrapped in what seemed to be some sort of plant fibers. “Satisfied?” Assuming Narkissa was, she’d hand her the box and disappear back inside though would soon bring out another box of similar size and hand it to her. Inside, of course, was Saltpeter. “Do be careful with this stuff. It can be…well, If he’s giving you that I’m sure you know.”
By now the Oni would return with a gallon sized bag filled with charcoal. Perhaps not quite the wholesale size Narkissa was used too, but considering the technology and how long this stuff would take to produce otherwise and Mie was on the last leg of her journey, this might be the best she was going to get for now. “And there’s your charcoal. As for the final thing…just after nightfall…actually, no. I’ll come and get you. I’ll send Ayumi to fetch you. Don’t worry, you’ll know her when you see her.”
Items Recieved: Crate of Sulfur: A small crate of sulfur about a foot long and six inches tall. Small compartments within are filled with individually wrapped pieces of the substance. Smells of rotten eggs as expected. Crate of Sulfur: A small crate of Saltpeter about a foot long and six inches tall. Small compartments within are filled with individually wrapped pieces of the substance. Bag of Charcoal: A gallon sized bag of Charcoal.
“I’m not sure what tools you’ll need. I’m fairly certain we’re not using this for the same things.” Mie would continue. “But…you can find the tools over there. Otherwise, ask the Oni. I’ll let them know its paid for.” Seemed simple enough now that she had things going.
“Excuse me, Lady Mie. One of your guests allies wanted me to deliver a message.” A second Oni would walk up to the pair addressing Narkissa. “The Bastelian said something about ‘retrieving something beyond the village where it all began.’ and also wishing you safety.”
The torch would hit the leaping hound in its skull with a resounding thump. The power of the blow would send the hound reeling back, falling into a pile of snow as flames and ash sparked into the air and leaving a burn mark upon the bone where the impact occurred. The second hound would soon give chase, following after Nick…and it would soon become apparent that the hounds were far faster than ordinary flesh and blood dogs.
The red hooded figure in question would turn their head briefly - they were too far away to really get a look at them, but upon seeing Nicholas they would seemingly give a small gasp of surprise and start running away from him, rather than away from the hounds. They didn’t seem to be particularly fast, as they’d dart through the snowy ground - he could easily keep up with them if the hounds were dealt with.
And speaking of the undead mutts…
One had leaped into the path in front of him, before quickly turning on its feet and launching itself at him again. The one he had struck earlier was now pincering him from behind, and the moment Nicholas would make a move to defend or attack the first one, it would make an attempt to latch its jaws onto his ankles and drag him to the ground.
“May the Goddess watch over your endeavors, Isidore.” The Queen would say as he’d make to leave, Octavia trotting along behind him. It was relatively easy finding what he wanted to purchase, and would run him no more than a few silver coins in the end. As he’d make a plan and prepare the gear, Octavia would munch happily on the bone - perhaps a little too happily, all things considered. By the time he was ready to leave, she’d have eaten everything. Bone and all.
Time to leave, then.
Finding the gate that led deeper was easy enough. The guards could point him in the right direction, should he choose to ask. Otherwise, it was just a matter of seemingly finding the lowest point in the city, where the crowds had thinned out.The conversation with the guards would be brief - they’d give him a little grief and sass for being human, but they seemed if nothing else willing to do as their queen said, and allow him pass once they’d be shown the ring. He’d be given the timepiece, too.
The gate itself was simple - a large slab of stone, flanked by two large mushroom towers that overlooked the road to it and blocked off the large passage completely. Likely to ensure demonic incursion would readily be intercepted. The stone gate itself was simple of construction, with a simple engraving of a moon and star upon it, and at their owners behest would start opening. The large slab would creak and groan, straining under its weight as massive chains slowly raise it. Isidore would immediately be met with hot, dry air as it would rise fully. He’d be urged to quickly step through, the guards not wanting to leave the gate open for longer than needed.
Beyond was a massive cavern that would slowly slope downwards. The stone was oddly smooth here beyond the gate, almost something like a glassy texture as though the rock had been blasted by intense heat. Further down Isidore would go, the large cavern’s ceiling eventually disappearing overhead as he went further, and further inside the earth…he’d reach his destination.
-Old Naraheim-
-The Deserted First Circle-
Stepping out of the cavern, he’d find himself in a sprawling, impossibly large cavern. In fact, this entire place looked like it couldn’t even exist if traditional physics were applied. He seemed to be standing at the far end of a large, rocky field. The floors and rocks were smooth as the entrance to the place, perhaps a side effect of the lava? Who could say, really. Said Lava seemed to pool in various places, bubbling away intensely hot creating numerous small lakes and puddles, while it seemed a large river of lava was formed nearby from a waterfall of it, snaking along a far wall as it would slowly extend far beyond Isidore’s sight range. What seemed to be metal pipes extended from the ground, belching what seemed to be steam at irregular intervals. They completely littered the ground, and even seemed to come out of nearby metallic structures that the Prince had mentioned. Were these the ‘Metal Roots’ he had spoken of? Speaking of those metal structures…were his eyes deceiving him, or were those simply large almost modern day to earth looking buildings? Or rather, at least, buildings he may have perhaps seen in the 19th century, though scaled up massively. The only difference was it almost looked like somehow they had been completely flipped upside down, right from their foundations and then sunk into the earth as though the earth was merely some sort of jello before it hardened again.
They were scattered and few and far between in the rocky field, but further on he could see a larger concentration of them against what seemed to be a small mountain - wait, no…rather than a mountain, behind the upside down city, seemed to be a gargantuan tree. It was sitting a little higher than the city itself, in a large hollow within the wall behind it. The fact he could see it from here was telling of its size at least. The round trunk would slowly rise above the city into the ‘skies’ of this underground place, until it would seemingly be abruptly cut off - perhaps less a tree, and more a stump then, but a massive stump nonetheless.
How a tree survived down here and wasn’t burned to cinders was anyone's guess.
Following the sight of the tree, he would soon find what remained of the trees roots. They would snake along the ground, intertwining with the overturned buildings. Oddly, more roots seemingly would come down from the ceiling in occasional places, big as the average redwood trunk back on earth, slowly snaking down before abruptly stopping. He couldn’t see any that directly made contact with the earth, but to his east was where a seemingly large concentration of them were coming down from the ceiling where their endpoints would be obscured by a large, cavernous wall.
So, to his North east, an old Demonic City, further a gargantuan tree stump, and to his east likely where he could find the roots where these so called Silk Weavers lived. To the west, the earth seemed to slowly slope upwards, though it remained otherwise featureless beyond what seemed to be a large statue of some sort buried halfway in the ground.
Octavia would sniff the heat laden air, growling lightly as she’d keep her eyes on the city. Was something over there?
Items Received: Goggles: A pair of goggles dwarves typically like to use in both mining and forging. Helps protects the eyes from heat and other debris. Work Gloves: A fairly standard set of tough, leather working gloves. Should offer decent protection from the elements and minor cuts and bruises. Lantern: A simple lantern. Has enough oil to last about four hours in total if used constantly. Pickaxe: A standard Pickaxe. Sharp, durable. Useful as a weapon if needed. Hourglass: A fairly ornate looking hourglass. Surprisingly sturdy looking, with the hourglass itself being secured within a blue colored circle, with the top and bottom of the hourglass serving to be where it could be stood up. About the size of ones fist and can be used to measure time in intervals of an hour. Can loop around ones belt for safekeeping and easy access, or stored easily in a bag.
“...Honestly Don, I don’t got a clue to what ya talkin’ about.” The dwarf would respond with a neutral expression. “...though, come to think of it…the Obelisk looks like one we got back in the hall of records…the Scholars there really don’t like people gettin’ near it.” She’d look up at the Obelisk curiously, but ultimately would go back to minding her business and checking on the animals as Donovan would sit and start to Meditate.
It was easy, in theory to do this. He’d inhale, then exhale, then in and out. In and out. Eventually he’d work into a steady breathing rhythm. A bit like a slow, ticking clock himself. As his breathing steadied and began to turn his senses inwards, he’d become aware of the energy as he had intended and began attempting to observe this energy.
At first, he’d have trouble really seeing it, this being the first time he did such a thing. Soon though he could ‘feel it’. It was an odd feeling, feeling something flowing through him, but not unpleasant. As he would observe and feel this flow of energy he was labeling ‘magic’ he would slowly find that it would eventually all flow through his chest near his sternum. However, the energy didn’t linger nor settle. It would flow through, seemingly replacing the energy that was already there with new while the old would eventually be circulated out with each exhalation he’d make. It was small amounts, but it seemed that simply breathing normally would slowly replenish ones energy.
Once he began attempting to store this energy though, he would notice something a bit odd. Channeling his own through the emblem would indeed change this magical energy into something divine…however, it did not seem to want to go back into Donovan. It was easy to guide his own it seemed, but this Divine energy seemed to actively resist his attempts to store it within himself. Every time he’d attempt to guide it into him, it would ‘slip’ from his control and seemed to find the fastest exit it could from his body as though it was actively resisting him. In fact, the more he tried this, the more his own magical energy seemed to diminish, tiring Donovan himself out.
Though his efforts were not completely in vain.
It was hard to tell how long he’d have sat there, in quiet meditation while Eirhild went over and inspected everything, but eventually he would manage some small success. It took a great deal of his own magical ability, but he managed to store just a little bit of Suthainn’s divine energy within his core.
Ability Gained: Magical Stockpile (Lesser Divine) You’ve learned how to better stockpile Divine energy from your patron deity. Normally novices must rely on emblems, crests, prayers, idols and faith to convert their own magic into deific magics. Those learned, though, can become wellsprings of their deities power themselves, no longer needing such things to cast miracles. You will need to meditate to replenish this power frequently at your level, but at higher levels such a thing won’t be needed.
(OOC: Effectively, this makes casting all spells stemming from Suthainn easier briefly.)
“Donovan!” Akandos voice would bring him out of his meditation, as the hunter would run up. “The Kyrnith has been pacified, I think. The other two are taking the hunters to the village…” Nearly immediately afterwards, Donovan would hear the familiar voice of Leannah soon following Akando’s, and he’d easily see the cat girl waving at him in a friendly manner.
“...oi whose the cat?” Eirhild would ask Donovan. “Didn’t fancy you for a cat lover.” There was some minor bit of hostility in the dwarfs voice, but she didn’t make any overly hostile moves.
After finishing her training session with Sorcha, Augusta was understandably bruised. Both in ego and body. Understandably so, really. Still, unless she wanted to be late with Rullphana, she couldn’t take too long. Just enough to clean herself off a bit and get the sweat off and adjust her clothes. She’d hurry along to Rullphana’s tower, where she’d be let in though not without a small harrumph from the guard present.
“Well, look who decided to join us.” Rullphana would say as Augusta would walk in. “I assume the Storm Bearer ran you ragged, hm? Certainly looks like it.” Raelzel was currently muttering something to herself while she was currently poised over a few herbs and what seemed to be alchemical devices. Leuca was currently hold her hands in front of her as she’d focus on a small mound of earth.
“Steady Leuca. As a Sirithen, you have a connection to the Fey and Nature. Making a plant grow should be easy for you.”
“No? Well don’t blame me if she bites your beak off.” Ayumi would say with mildly mocking tone as she’d watch Donovan leave, her vixen eyes keenly watching as he’d make his way out of the village. It was easy enough to spot him and where his destination would end up taking him. He’d follow the path south out of the village, back to where they’d all have arrived in this world from.
[i]“Pushing your responsibilities onto someone else? Heh, alright whatever. And I don’t need such a tool to kill.”[i] The small fox would respond, a grin forming on its muzzle. “Poison is good for discretion…but a knife to the liver, heart, lung, or skull tends to work just fine. See ya, beak-face!” She’d say, before scurrying off and following after Donovna, the prospect of apparently getting food enough to get her to move sooner rather than later.
So Nomura would soon end up watching Donovan as well, focusing his magic to his eyes. It seemed at least, this was indeed possible. As he’d focus he’d initially strain his eyes a bit, a sound of crackling energy as he’d be able to just see a bit sharper, and a bit clearer and he could certainly make out images further away than he could have before. Like the bird mask he wore - he had a keen eye that could see much further than normal and even pickout Eirhilds compass from afar.
Ability Gained: Enhanced sight (lesser) A simple ability that enhances ones visual acuity and perception. Does not allow one to see supernatural or unseen things, just allows one to perceive things more clearly and notice more details.
"That does sound like an acceptable use of our talents...very well, I shall do my best." The Arachne, unless stopped, would agree and then start to head out. Wasn't like she needed much in the way of being prepared, after all and unless anything exceedingly dangerous was out there, she should be more or less fine on her own.
"Chopping trees down, huh? Oh, I know how to do this! Leave it to kokoma!" Of course, it wasn't like she had an axe on hand. So she'd have to get a bit creative, now wouldn't she? She could have probably asked the others if they had one, but of course, such a thought didn't occur to Kokoma as she'd leave the small camping area behind and head towards a few nearby trees. How hard could cutting down a tree really be, right? As long as there was wood, cut into relatively small chunks that were dry...then just poof! Fire.
Easy enough.
Taking her weapon in hand, Kokoma would raise it into the air and -thunk- swing it right into the tree's trunk. She had seen this in that video game once, of course so she knew what she was doing...somewhat. Just had to cut it on the side she wanted it to fall, and then move before she became a Shenke pancake.
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jjKSxTj.png[/img][/center]
Hello! Welcome to my little bio.
Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).
Have some dancing medjed.
[img]https://i.redd.it/q95hk1tobbv11.gif[/img]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/jjKSxTj.png" /></div><br><br>Hello! Welcome to my little bio.<br><br>Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).<br><br>Have some dancing medjed.<br><br><img src="https://i.redd.it/q95hk1tobbv11.gif" /></div>
Danyel
datadogie
The Red Seelie
rush99999
Xiro Zean
Cu Chulainn
Alfhedil
Ojiro Mashirao
Gerlando
Izurich
