Open Chronicles Levels of Light

[Naghi]

Kellen wasn't really good with weapons of any sort.

He could use a knife well enough, but the Underlord had never had a single moment of actual training when it came to fighting with weapons. No one had ever taught him how to use a sword, no one had ever instructed him on anything.

He was a street rat, every skill that Kellen had was one he'd taught himself. Most of the time that was a point of pride, now it frustrated him.

With a growl Kellen grabbed a crossbow and a few bolts.

It was just about the only thing in the whole damn hold he knew how to use. Point it at something and pull the lever. Easy. "Let's go."

Kellen said, cursing the lack of mages quietly.

 

[Finn]

Why hadn't she seen the crossbow?

Finn stuck close to Kellen's side and took up her bow in both hands, brandishing it as a type of bat. She swung it at a diving beastie, grunting with effort. Blue eyes darted around the ship.

"Go where?" Her shoulder might bump up against his as she stumbled.

 

[Naghi]

He motioned up to the top deck. "We have to chase them off."

Kellen didn't exactly like the notion of course. Harpies were dangerous creatures on the best of days and downright deadly on the worst. He didn't like the idea of having to fight them, liked the idea of going toe to toe even less.

"They'll tear the sail to shreds." He told her. "Then we'll be stuck."

Which would create all sort of new misery.

Not something he wanted to deal with.

 

[Finn]

One of the harpies hissed and fell to the deck as Finn's gangly armed sing caught one off guard.

PLUNK.

Dirty-blonde brows nearly disappeared in her hairline.

"One to zero," she remarked cheekily. Grabbing an arrow, she had enough time to knock it to the bow. The shot went wide for the one she was aiming at but got a second in the wing.

THUMP.

"Two up."

 

[Naghi]

This was a terrible, bad plan.

Kellen was not a fighter, at least not this sort of fighting. He did okay in a street scrap, and when there was a mage around he could even hold his own on the Battlefield.

Yet out here?

Out here he was little better than an urchin boy who had never even held a sword before. Letting out a string of curses Kellen lifted his crossbow and shot at one of the Harpies.

The bolt was all but random, though somehow managed to strike one of the winged bitches directly in the shoulder.

The creature let out a loud shriek, then tumbled into the sea no longer able to lift itself with its wings.

As the thing fell Kellen reloaded, hearing the echo of Finn's words as the large bolt fell into place. A grumble escaped him, though it would have been hard for anyone not next to him to hear.

Where was a bloody mage when you needed one.

 

[Finn]

Arms were doing better than she thought they would. She wasn't the strongest but she did spend most of her free time climbing, dragging parts around for her shop, and welding. Gave her some natural muscles even in her smaller arms.

She shot another arrow wide.

Finn had to duck as another harpy flew in close, trying to snatch the smaller girl up. And that's when she felt it. A small tug. Something she hadn't felt before. She usually felt it around other magic users. In her mind, she always imagined a switch that she could turn off. Or mute.

Did all beings have some kind of magic in them?

"Trying something," she whispered. "Cover me." Palm pressed forward as her eyes closed. She saw tiny pinpricks of moving light beneath closed lids. Buzzing, diving, and flying lights. Like fireflies. This was different than the mages and she knew there would be a larger cost.

Sweat broke over her forehead.

Off.

Off. Off. Turn off.

There was a scream around her as the harpies nearest began dropping like stones onto the boat or in the water.

THUMPthumpTHUMP

They weren't dead. Just stunned.

But Finn felt like she was dying. Energy escaped her and she felt herself falling as her eyes rolled into the back of her skull.

 

[Naghi]

Kellen's eyes bugged for a moment, then another thump rang out as a harpy thrashed into the deck and broke it's neck.

Before the girl could fall onto the ground Kellen took three steps across the deck and reached out with his arms. He grabbed her, keeping her from meeting the same fate as the Harpy who had just struck the ground just a few feet away.

The Criminal Underlord held the woman gently, frowning.

Some of his men glanced around, wondering what the hell had just happened. Kellen frowned, and then motioned to the Harpies. "Kill them."

There was no time for mercy.

These creatures were monsters, and whatever Finn had done wouldn't last long. So quickly his men set about the grim business of ending the creatures still on the ship.

 

[Focraig'Diin]

Along came a drunken man in a floating old plank!

It sounded like a prelude to some horrid joke. Mused Focraig'Diin, floating precariously on an empty barrel in the middle of the seas. He last recalled getting drunk off his ass because some chap decided to dunk a whole barrel of ale on his head. He managed to drink his way to safety, emptying his wooden prison, but recalled dropping like a rock afterwards, the buzz hitting his mind with all the brute force of an orc's club smash. His coldness did wonders foe the migraine, but it didn't change the fact he was stuck in a barrel out on the sea. Just his bloody luck.

He did not rage nor rave, despite being so angry a pyromancer would feel the heat. Rationally, methodically, calmly, he gazed upon the waters. His reflection was no different - icy blue eyes gleamed back, framed somewhat by his black hair. They also bore a constant twitch of his left eye. Evidently his composure was slipping. This symptom would only get worse. The mage knew it somehow.

He looked up, hearing the flapping of wings. Leathery wings.

Harpies.

He was vocal about his frustration this time. "By the Tundra - "

The passing ship, only now finishing off the harpies, would look to the starboard side and witness a snowstorm upon the ocean, surrounded by a mass of harpies eager to get at the man in the raging blizzard's center. Eyes lit up in gleaming cerulean, Focraig's magics turned twenty meters of sea around him into a sheet of ice, as he directed three circular saws of ice around in a bloody dance, keeping the flock at bay. After a minute of self-defense and venting his annoyance physically, he pooled his focus into a singular idea while having the saws dissipate, their icy dust adding to the increasingly volatile storm.

"Frost is Stillness."

He pictured the perpetual stillness of ice, its immovable foundation. The fundamentals of his magic

Absence of motion.

And the entire harpy flock dropped like rocks, instantly frozen and removed of function. Amid the splashes, Focraig breathed in deep, shaking his head to slowly dismantle the visual image in his head. He still had enough strength of will to go a few more hours of magics, but the migraine had worsened. Instead, he waved to the passing ship. Hopefully they would be gracious to let him aboard.

((If I may?))

 

[Finn]

Eyes were well into the back of her skull. Dirty-blonde hair fanned across her sharp, small face. The arms of a criminal underlord supported her.

The strange capabilities she had. Magic. Had taken its price. She needed rest and then more rest. The young girl was very clearly still passed out. Kellen's men stirred around them, attention quickly diverted to what had happened on their boat to what was happening in the surrounding waters. Ice? Blizzard this time of year?

The harpies were no longer a problem but there might be a new one.

The men looked toward Kellen for orders as their ship went alongside the lone mage.

 

[Naghi]

Kellen glanced around himself for a brief moment. Magic.

Even someone without his abilities would have been able to tell that in the blink of an eye. Half a dozen harpies falling from the sky and turning to ice wasn't just some random happenstance, especially in the middle of a fight.

The man was a mage.

A part of him wondered if he was from Elbion, a hunter sent out by the Maestars. The idea wasn't too far fetched, Witch Hunters were faster than most...and it was easier to get ahead of a ship with just one man.

Still...He frowned, glancing towards his men.

"Bring him up." Kellen called to his men, motioning with his left hand and closing his eyes for a moment to focus.

He had to make sure not to give away his own abilities.

Finn | Focraig'Diin

 

[Focraig'Diin]

The first thing he felt the moment he stepped onto the ship was his magic being siphoned. For an instant, anyways. While the amount taken was but a teardrop in the glacier that was his will, it intrigued him more than anything else. Even in duels against those hunters trained specifically to hunt his kind down, never had they the ability to take his reserves of magic. Connected directly to his force of will, the more they took, the less he had. Theoretically.

He shook his head slightly, ridding his thought process short. He always had that tendency to drivel on mentally. Waving his thanks to the men pulling him abroad, he gave a quick scan of the crew, icy blue skimming over the men, the unconscious girl there, and a man who seemed deep in thought, before breathing deep.

It came without so much as a warning.

"Hurk!"

No use, over the railing -

And the men bore witness to a result of an ice mage drinking his weight in alcohol against his will, plopped unconscious with the concoction bubbling in his stomach for a whole night in a wooden, enclosed space in the middle of the cussin'sea.

Simply put, sixteen hours of nausea and hangovers hit him all at once.

He at least had the decency and sense of mind to aim outwards.

 

[Naghi]

As the man spewed Kellen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

The violent ejection of the mages stomach was...unsightly, but to the members of his crew it wasn't exactly out of place. Most of them had grown up in the deepest slums and the worst depths of the cities. A sight like this was common enough.

Even though it was still unpleasant.

While the mage projectile vomited over the side of the ship Kellen motioned towards one of his crewmembers to come closer. "Take the girl below deck."

He told the man.

"Have the doc look at her and put her in a hammock." Rest would likely be all she needed, but Kellen wanted to make sure.

Oddly enough, he'd feel bad if she died now. "Done yet?"

Kellen called to the Mage.

 

[Focraig'Diin]

Thumping his chest to rid the last of the bile, he breathed frost in relief. Never again, he swore. He would flash-freeze the area if anyone tried that barrel trick again. Breathing in deep to stabilize his mind and innards from lurching, he turned to the questioner, bowing slightly in greetings.

"Plenty enough. Apologies for the impromptu... blastoff. Sixteen hours of nausea hit me at once."

He dusted down his robes, as the water fell off the cloth as teardrops of ice, frozen by the ambient magic on his skin. None of his... residue had gotten on the cloth, thankfully enough. He looked up at the man who questioned him, and decided to introduce himself. He was here as an accident, and it would do no good for antagonizing anyone yet.

"I am Focraig'Diin, a wandering archivist and ice mage. Once again I apologize for my sudden boarding of your ship. I would find my way to land, but I haven't the foggiest idea of where I am."

 

[Naghi]

"Kellen." He did not give a full name, hardly ever did. Few knew it and fewer cared all that much. He could have provided an alias, but what was the point? This man didn't know him in the least, and it wasn't worth trying to hide.

Not out here.

"You're near the Allirian Strait, closer to Elbion than anywhere else." The Underlord explained. "Closest land is that way."

He pointed towards the coast about three miles away. "Though I won't make you swim it now after the helping hand you gave us."

Kellen knew he would have to be careful, but there was no point in being outright hostile.

Not right now anyway.

 

[Focraig'Diin]

"While I would appreciate the ride, you need not take detours to land. Simply head to your own destination, and I shall make my own way from there. The generosity is still appreciated, Mr. Kellen."

The mage bowed, then his eyes cane upon the unconscious girl being hauled away. Her symptoms were easy to see even for him - why, on his first use of magic, he bled from the eyes, nose, and ears before collapsing in a heap.

"If I may, what is the matter of the girl being carried away? I see some symptoms as magical overexertion from her. Is she not trained in the arts?"

He may have been a bit intrusive with his observations, but having such incompetence or inexperience was... simply not allowed in his eyes. He would see to it the girl would manage her craft skillfulyl enough - if the crew of this ship would let him.

 

[Naghi]

Kellen shrugged. "Wouldn't know."

That was actually the truth. He may have been a magical leech, but he'd never actually seen anyone suffer from magical exhaustion. Sure he'd taken quite a bit of power from some mages, but he figured that wasn't the same thing. Plus he hadn't touched Finn, at least he was pretty sure that he hadn't.

Besides that he figured Finn's business was her own.

Not his to share.

"Were headed to Alliria." He told the man. "More than a thousand miles south of here."

By sea that would be just under a week of travel, over land it likely would have taken months. He wasn't telling that to the man in order to scare him off, simply to point out that their journey would not be a short one by any definition of the word. "You're welcome to stay aboard, just be aware we're going far."

It was a fair warning.

 

[Focraig'Diin]

"I've had my share of long journeys. I thank you for letting me at least remain aboard the vessel." The mage bowed one more time, then breathed a trail of mist. Now to actually find a spot on the crew itself. It was awkward simply being on a vessel and doing virtually nothing.

Except being the resident mobile beer freezer. Never again.

Now... as for the man in question who had let him aboard... Focraig did not see immediately what identified the man as a VIP, aside from the demeanor of wariness and caution expected. He really had no idea how to approach this one, aside from the previous responses. Starting a conversation, or just suggestions - he had the gut feeling the man would simply brush them all off.

"If there is anything I can do to assist with the crew, aside from having a look at that girl's state? I am quite liberal with my craft, if magic is more your preference."

 

[Naghi]

He considered for a moment. "Lets leave the girl be."

Kellen said the words calmly enough, but there was a heavy weight to them. No threat was given, but it was pretty clear he disapproved of the idea of letting a Stranger near the girl.

"If I were here I wouldn't really want a stranger poking at me, ya know?" He thought it was reasonable argument.

The crew seemed to relax around him finally, either over the nerves of the Harpy attack or deciding that Kellen had intuited this new man was no threat. They let out sighs of relief, and then slowly dispersed themselves among the ship.

Kellen lingered for a moment, then motioned towards the mage.

"Come on." He told the man. "I'll get you a drink."

Best way to make friends after all.

 

[Finn]

A few hours later....

Finn stirred in one of the hammocks below. Heel of her hand pushed against her eyes. A portly dwarf with rounded spectacles sat in a chair smoking a pipe. The edge of her nose tickled as she caught smells of lavender and clover.

"Ah good, yer awake. Doc McGee. Bossman wanted me to check on ye."

Finn sat up slowly, wincing softly as she did.

"Easyeasy. Tuttut. He saved yer head from hitting the deck but I imagine what you did up there is causin' more of yer pain." Gray-blue eyes widened as she slowly remembered. She'd felt something in those creatures. It was like when she was around mages and their magic never seemed to be able to touch her. Either they couldn't call upon their gift at all, like her presence was a nullifying blanket or their magic just faded and fizzled by the time it got to her.

This had been a bit different.

She'd taken more of the offensive with the creatures. And it had cost her a great deal of energy.

"Where is he?"

The dwarf adjusted his spectacles. "Above deck with the newcomer."

Finn's sandy-brows scrunched up. "Newcomer?"

"Lot says he's some ice-mage or somethin." Finn gulped and swung her legs over the hammock. Standing, she began making her way above deck.