Fable - Ask Necromancy By Any Other Name

[Osuin]

“No other option.” he repeated Selene’s words, partly as response and partly to reaffirm to himself the gravity of the situation before them. To slay the sorcerer would slay the griffin too, but letting him live would enable whatever foul ritual he had woven. The fresh wounds the griffin bore was evidence to that. Osuin kept his weight shifted on his sword, still impaled through the sorcerer lying at his feet.

"Our objective has changed," spoke Selene, and Osuin turned to face her with his sword still held in place.

"We will tread the unknown path and take this criminal alive." She added, approaching Osuin and Vos while the Knight Pursuant returned a solemn nod.

"You should have told me you were so eager to visit my master. I would have cleaned up more." Attention returned to the sorcerer caught beneath his blade at his words, both in dismay that he could again make them and with irritation at their content. Ichor like fluid seemed from the wound in his chest, and Osuin tightened his grip on the hilt of his weapon in preparation for whatever unknown action the sorcerer might be planning.

"So we capture him, and no hurting him...easy."

“A fair plan.” Osuin agreed.

The fiend grasped the sword between his palms, and Osiun shifted his weight further down upon him with little hesitation, and no avail. Despite his bulk and strength, the knight found himself knocked back by the sorcerer's sudden strength, with droplets of blackened blood flung from the blade pushed out of the wound. Much as he wished to cleave one anew, it would only bring further harm to the griffin.

With his sword held at the ready and still pointed squarely at the foul sorcerer, Osuin kept his stance. Options had been reduced, and he knew of no immediate action to take. Whatever the sorcerer might attempt would best be countered, though oblivious to the full nature of the situation was not lost on him.

Objectives change for a reason.

He hoped they would succeed at one newly given.

Selene Vos Fleetwood

 

[Selene]

Sweat gleamed in the moons' light across Selene's brow, her lips twisted into a grimace as she focused her energy onto the griffin. Yellow eyes foggy and half-lidded, the beast heaved under the weight of its own breath.

"So we capture him, and no hurting him...easy," Vos said, though something about his voice was distinctly uneasy.

Selene hazarded a glance behind her. "You can hurt him a little bit!" she called out in Vos and Osuin's direction. You're going to have to, she added to herself.

A whining pressure filled Selene's skull, making her teeth hurt and her sight blur. There it was, the magic that she had been searching for this whole time, the piece of the puzzle that had been missing. She could certainly feel it now. With every drop of healing magic that she poured into the griffin, the drum of the sorcerer's spell grew louder inside her mind.

What faced off against Osuin and Vos wasn't a man anymore. The sorcerer's blackened blood pulsed and congealed, growing and twisting across his body, swallowing the runework that dotted his skin. With sudden energy, fresh limbs split apart from the gross mass, steaming black and twitching unpredictable. Somewhere in that darkling ichor, the sorcerer's outline could still be seen. He writhed, in pain or in ecstasy, and when the churning thing spoke next, it was not with the old man's voice. It was not with a voice at all, at least in the traditional sense.

LITTLE NUISANCES. A thought echoed in all of their heads. BE RID OF THEM.

"You half-formed malediction!" Selene yelled back, her whole frame shaking with the force of her words. "Do you think my knights will fall so easily?"

All Selene could do was sling words at the foul creature. The griffin was not stable yet, and if she stopped now, it would not survive. She would have to trust Osuin and Vos to buy her more time.

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

Vos took a tiny step back when he got a good look at this transformed creature, but he quickly stopped himself. He needed to be brave, for himself, Selene, and the griffin. He like to talk the talk, and it was time to walk the walk.

The fact that they could injure him slightly was good because Vos had been scratching his brain for what he could do. Still, he would start off small. He would try and not use the bow if he did not have to. Instead, he took out three bolas. He used these to help capture wild animals near the monastery, usually when they were injured and needed healing. They certainly would not stop this thing, but he could slow them down.

Vos distanced himself from Osuin and circled around so that he was on the opposite side of the creature to Osuin and Selene.

"Hey ugly. You're performing dark magic to turn into that?" Vos laughed at with his signature trouble-making grin. "You should probably get your money back. That thing looks more like what is at the bottom of the privy."

He hoped his voice was as annoying as it usually seemed to be to everyone else. For once in his life, he was hoping to be as annoying and noticeable as possible. Sir Edelbert would be so proud. Vos let loose one more laugh before launching two bolas in quick succession at the creature's legs, hoping to get as many of them as possible.

Selene Osuin

 

[Osuin]

"You can hurt him a little bit!" Selene shouted out, and Osuin was thankful for that amount of flexibility in dealing with the situation. Not that he wanted to hurt the griffin in the slightest, but neither could he allow the sorcerer to unleash his foul magic. Options were limited, and actions would need to be chosen carefully. That the option of allowing some amount of harm to befall it implied that it was necessary.

Osuin shifted his grasp of the swords hilt, now wielding it as a weapon rather than a tool to keep the sorcerer pinned to the ground. His immediate inclination was to simply swing his sword at the entity, yet Osuin would not do, so given the gained knowledge of the harm that would befall the griffin as well.

Whatever dark creature the sorcerer had become had realized this disinclination and took its opportunity to wrap a blackened tendril around the blade of his weapon in an attempt to wrest it away. Osuin twisted the blade and wrenched it upwards, and then down, freeing his sword from its grip. The blackened tendril fought to hold on but was ultimately severed and began writhing and jumping on the ground. Eventually, it contacted the greater entity. Adhering to it, the tendril began to shrink as the mass within rejoined that of whatever the foul sorcerer had become.

Vos had a different idea, and upon taunting him had thrown a bola around the legs of the creature. It seemed likely to escape the entanglement in the same manner it had reformed after the slice of his blade cleaved its tendril, but it would also be distracted by the effort it would take. Seeking to add to the time it would take to recover, Osuin stepped forth and slammed his domed shield into the being, aiming his strike on the being’s upper body to throw off its balance.

The efforts were a success. Knocked back by the sharp recoil of the blow, the transformed sorcerer toppled over. But before it struck the ground it reached out with its tendrils in reprisal, grasping at Osuin’s shield and ankle to pull the burly knight down to the ground with a thump. The Knight pursuant was now locked in a struggle against the thing, and despite his twisting and rolling, the entity maintained its grasp on him.

There were too many for him to consider cleaving straight through them, should that result in a transfer of damage too great for the griffin to bear. Osuin continued to struggle against the tendrils grasping him, while the remainder of the being rose back up to its feet.

If the ends of its legs could still be considered feet.

Vos Fleetwood Selene

 

[Selene]

The weighted rope thrown by Vos, coupled with Osuin's brute force gave them a momentary purchase as the beast went down. A short-lived victory, because even if some limbs were tied up, the twisted thing still had enough to reach out and hit Osuin back.

"Selene, can't you go any faster?!" Perorin urged from overtop the other side of the griffin.

"That is not how this works," she responded through gritted teeth, but as soon as she said it an idea sparked in her mind. Maybe she could make the summoning go faster. The sooner the griffin was untangled from the spell, the sooner they could use more direct means to take care of the sorcerer.

The healing light fizzled out as Selene reached for a knife at her side. She held the knife in one hand, the tip of it balanced against the open palm of her other hand. "Perorin, if something goes wrong... make sure the kid gets out alive."

The hunter was about to protest, but one look from Selene had a cold resolve fall over his features. He kept his mouth shut, and only nodded.

A quick flick of the knife, and Selene's blood welled up from the cut. Squeezing her hand shut, dark drops dripped onto the griffin's already stained feathers. She chanted her magic, and as she chanted, wisps of light curled up from the beast's feathers, like worms escaping the rain. Pulled from its death lull, the griffin's muscles contorted. Claws scrabbled against the rocks and it shrieked, eyes wild, coursing with blood and magic and strength not its own.

In front of Vos and Osuin, the sorcerer's body spooled apart like thread. The limbs that pinned the burly Pursuant down slackened, wobbling with uncertain strength. The thing that was once the body of a man stumbled backwards on the last remaining scraps of its feet. More limbs yet thrashed at the boulders near Vos, crumbling his footing from underneath.

Selene's chant ended.

"The griffin is freed," she bellowed out. She stood up, reeled around to face their foe, staff in hand, blood still streaking from her cut palm. "Now, attack! We have a chance while the demon is still forming!"

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

Vos did not have too much time to continue his quips. It was taking all of his focus to dodge the attacks being sent by the demon. In the corner of his eye, he could see Selene doing something with her blood, which normally would have left Vos uneasy, but he trusted the Knight-Captain.

That moment of focus was enough to send Vos stumbling as his footing fell apart beneath him. He cursed under his breath but quickly managed to roll back onto his feet just as some sort of tendril smashed into the ground inches from his face.

"Now, attack! We have a chance while the demon is still forming!"

That was all the spurring that Vos needed. He yelled out "Fuck yeah." He spoke out a spell as the arrow that quickly appeared in his hand began to glow with green energy. This was one of his favorites. He drew back and shot at the dead center of the creature.

While the arrow was still in the air he yelled out the final word, "Burst!" The arrow burst apart but continued on its forward motion. The arrow broke apart into several wooden shards being led by the metal arrowhead.

Before, he was even sure if the creature was going to be harmed. He was continuing with another spell. A wave of weakness washed over him, telling the young man that he was stretching himself a bit too thin, but he approved to stop. He finished the spell and several illusionary images appeared of himself and Osuin that continuously moved about, creating distractions.

Osuin Selene

 

[Osuin]

Osuin fought and struggled against his foe. While too entangled to reach for his sword, using it would surely be too risky, regardless. Instead, he hammered his armoured fist against the numerous limbs grappling him, knocking away some while others move to assail him in their place. The burly knight continued to pummel away defensively, concern for the griffin at the forefront of his mind.

He did not notice as the thing secured its grasp on the hilt of his weapon, until it had been twisted and pulled away – the blade that Osuin had been unable to wield against the entity had not been turned against him. Priority moved from punching the thing to the provision of self-protection, and Osuin reached out with a gauntlet-wrapped hand to grasp the hilt in effort to regain control of it, while another pressed against the blade to keep the point aimed away from his own neck.

Without the ability to free himself, and without the option to cause harm to his opponent, Osuin’s options were limited. With little choice but to continue the struggle, he did so.

"The griffin is freed, now, attack!" Selene called out. Vos invoked his magic, enchanting an arrow to split into many that pierced through the creature. Vos may have been uncertain if he had caused any harm to the thing, but Osuin took immediate notice of the lightened grasp on his limbs and his weapon. Reaching down, he managed to wrap his hand around the handle of it, and the necromancer wrapped a tendril around the wrist of his arm that did. Osuin struggled to slip a boot free from his grasp, planting it against the tendril at his wrist to pull his arm free as well.

Pained and in panic, the many limbed creature assailed Osuin immediately after, though the images spawned forth by Vos served to confuse it. Limbs lashed out at nothing, befuddled by the illusions, and freeing him from its assault. In but an instant, the Knight Pursuant had reclaimed his weapon from the ground and returned to his feet, ready for battle. His shield held in front to guard against attack, Osuin made one of his own, sending the sword swinging ahead of him to slash into the necromancer with all his strength.

Selene Vos Fleetwood

 

[Selene]

Swift and well-aimed, the splintered arrow did pierce the once-necromancer's shadowy form. It was beyond bleeding, but a few shadowy limbs did slough off, foaming against the rocks as they steamed off into oblivion.

Healing a griffin was more work than the others likely knew. Such a powerful creature required powerful magics, and the blood spell she'd performed left Selene weakened. It took all her will not lean on her staff, knees threatening to buckle at each step, as she approached the creature. No matter how much she knew about the arcane, she still only had the weight of one human life to throw around. Oh, the coils of being mortal.

Then thank the wisdom of Anathaeum that she was not alone. By some stroke of luck or genius, Vos's illusions worked on the demon. The creature wasted its time, and remaining limbs, swatting at the mirror images, leaving its center vulnerable. Osuin saw the opening and took it, swinging that big sword of his in an uncomplicated attack.

"Cut through," Selene commanded, her words thick with magic. She raised two fingers up in front of her, Loch runes shifting intangible in the night air. A flash of blue streaked along Osuin's sword, indistinguishable from the moonlight that shone through the mist.

The creature shrieked out in pain as blade met flesh. Osuin's sword sank into its roiling form, and limbs came to its center to try and claw at the blade. It could not grasp the sleek metal, hands sloughing off, something therein repelling it like oil in water. It stopped struggling, and an eyeless face bore into all of them at once.

PRETTY WARNINGS. WHO GREETS ME IN THIS NEW WORLD?

"You have just met the open palm of our Order, manful Syr Osuin." A cruel smile had Selene squinting at the demon, dark eyes flashing with the smallest pricks of light. "Now, I believe it is my privilege to show you the blade."

With a twist of her wrist, she swiped her two fingers upward. Spikes of lochlight, glistening like broken glass, rose from the rocks and impaled the corrupted creature from every angle. It screamed, and squirmed, shouting in the pained mortal voice of the sorcerer, and then fell silent. The spikes steamed away into the night sky as Selene lowered her hand, and the broken form of the demon fell to the ground. It did not move.

After a tense moment longer, Selene finally sighed, letting herself slump down against her staff. It was a good thing that had worked. She didn't have another spell in her.

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

This might only be for those who are good with cards, which Vos was one of them, but shuffling around a deck takes a lot of focus. Now imagine, Vos was essentially doing that, but with like four or five decks. He had to pay attention to the images, where they moved, where the demon was, everything. It was incredibly taxing.

Thankfully, the mass of illusions did seem to work. The only problem was that most of that work was going up in smoke because the demon would just flail about with his claws. He eventually got lucky and caught Vos in the side. However, Vos must have been luckier because as soon as he was hit, Osuin stepped in to finish this guy off.

He was sure he would have appreciated how cool Osuin was if he wasn't so tired. All he did no was that they had won. Vos let out a cheer and limped over to Selene with a smile.

"We did it. Is the griffon ok?"

Vos's face was covered in sweat, and he was very lightheaded. The magic had taken a lot out of him. The only bright side was that he did not notice a large wound on the right side of his abdomen from where the demon's claw had caught him. He just had a big dumb grin on his face.

Osuin Selene

 

[Osuin]

With Selene’s arcane power in accompaniment to his raw physical might, his blade cleaved a wicked wound into the form of the foul transformed necromancer, and with determined malice did he swing. A veteran of battle and bloodshed, even Osuin was in awe of the force empowering his sword to become bane against that he fought.

PRETTY WARNINGS. WHO GREETS ME IN THIS NEW WORLD?

"You have just met the open palm of our Order, manful Syr Osuin." Came Selene's response; A fitting introduction that filled him with pride in becoming such a weapon in service of the Order.

"Now, I believe it is my privilege to show you the blade." She continued, filling Osuin with anticipation for the violent introduction Selene was about to enact on the wicked one. His stoic gaze bore down on the flailing entity while summoned spikes speared into its pained and punctured body. As Osuin held his sword ready to strike anew if needed, the being's screams subsided and motion from the stilled. Once it did, the barrage of lochlight assailing him soon ceased as well, leaving the motionless body of the form he took laying on the ground before the three.

Neither he nor Selene made motion afterwards, perhaps sharing the same concern. It took a moment to convince Osuin it had been slain, and Selene’s exhausted slump comforted him further. The action implied she too was convinced, and that she seemed to be reinforced the notion of safety Osiun was cautious to take.

Flicking the ichor from his sword, Osuin gave a few deft spins with the point facing ground-ward before replacing the weapon in the sheath he wore strapped to his side. Vos was next to follow with a fitting question:

"We did it. Is the griffon ok?" He asked, and Osuin turned to Selene with a look that gave the same question. It was his purpose after all; perhaps not initially, but it had certainly become it now. They had done valiantly, and it must be okay, Osuin reasoned and hoped. But he wanted to hear it, to confirm that it was true.

Was it?

Vos Fleetwood Selene

 

[Selene]

Something was off about their victory. Hollow. In the center of the twisted ruins of flesh, where the heart of the demon should have beaten or laid still, been alive or dead, there was nothing but unknown space. Even dead things had mana still flowing around and through them. But that creature's form had no scent, no essence, no presence at all that could be tracked. Perhaps later, in solitary thought, Selene might blame this attribute of the demon's on her oversight.

"Yes, the griffin will live another day," she assuaged Osuin and Vos' fears, turning to face them as everyone regrouped. Selene put a proud hand on the young squire's shoulder when he approached. The boy's exhaustion coursed through her, though she did not notice his wounds right away.

She would have said more, some encouraging words for the young squire, when a dark stirring in the corner of her eye had her expression sour. The demon they had slain stirred in its undeath, tendrils rearing up like snakes searching for a hand to strike. Instinctively, Selene shoved Vos hard, pushing him away from her.

Shadows punctured her gut, threading through her bulk and squirming out the other side. She choked on the pain, fingers grasping at any kind of spell to cast in retaliation, but finding her mana run dry. With the fraying threads of her consciousness, she pushed a thought outwards, echoing in the minds of her three companions.

This is the start of the unknown path, here you must walk it without me. Now, why had she thought of that? Flee, run, no purpose is worth your life, she wanted to say, but her connection to the others was already gone. Even in her critical moments she couldn't give a clean order. Master Hawken was going to give her an earful.

The tendrils snapped and pulled out of Selene. She fell to the ground, face crunching into the gravel. The sorcerer's hollow laugh echoed out of the twisted form from all angles. What she saw last before her world blurred into darkness was the demon's terrible might rising up again, churning in anger, its bulk blotting out the moons' light. One arrow in Vos' quiver would gleam still though, catching a light that could not be overshadowed.

After its first attack, the demon's body did not lash out again. Instead, its many limbs shifted and rolled along the ground as it scrambled up the cliffside, aiming to flee.

Vos Fleetwood Osuin

 

[Wroc Flintson]

Vos was grinning in excitement at their hard-fought victory. The battle had been intense and fast-paced, more than once he had thought he was about to die. Not only had he survived but he had played a big role in the victory. The others were not going to believe this when he got back.

He reached down to pet the griffon softly, but just before he could reach the beast, he was shoved out of the way and onto his butt. Vos looked up in annoyance only to see the horrible sight of Knight-Captain Selene impaled above him.

His body did not know what to do. He was speechless, he did not even feel any emotions at first thanks to the shock. Then all the emotions slammed back into him at once.

First came sadness, as tears welled up in his eyes. He cried out in a mix of pain and horror. His hand reached out to grab Selene's body, but she had already fallen to the ground. The mix of shock and sadness was overwhelming until his eyes slowly moved to the culprit. The demon trying to slink away.

Then came a wave of anger that drove Vos to his feet. "You! I'll kill you!" He rushed off towards the creature, he momentary exhaustion replaced by adrenaline. He fired his three remaining arrows at the demon as he slithered away.

Vos dropped his bow as soon as the last arrow was fired. He instinctively began to cast magic. He did not have the energy to handle the backlash that would come, but he did not care. He called on the wild magic, as he felt his senses sharpen while claws grew from his fingernails and his canines extended. He was going to rip this demon in half.

Osuin Selene

 

[Osuin]

"Yes, the griffin will live another day," Spoke Selene, and it was a relief to the ears of Osuin to hear it. He looked to her with a beaming and victorious smile on his lips, deeply proud of the valiant efforts of Vos. The squire had acted with neither fear nor hesitation - Osuin had no doubt his faith in him was well placed, made doubtless by the defeated enemy at their feet.

“Vos, you have done we-” Osuin praised, before stilling his voice with a shocked pause once the formerly motionless demon began to stir again.

“Selene!” He cried out in a panic, but by the time his warning had escaped his lips it was too late. Vos had been shoved away, but such safety would not become Selene’s. Tendrils had pierced right through her buried into flesh and burrowing back out through wounds opposite the first. He made his way towards her at a full sprint, and received a telepathic message before she could be reached.

This is the start of the unknown path, here you must walk it without me. ​

A haunting message. One Selene wouldn’t expand on, as she collapsed over without further communication once the tendrils that pierced her broke and slipped free. Osuin reached her once she had hit the ground, distraught at the sight. Along with Vos, that made two men who were. While Osuin remained speechless, the squire vocalized his rage.

"You! I'll kill you!" He roared, before making his immediate pursuit of the retreating mass of tendrils.

Osuin took a look at Vos, then one last glance at Selene. He feared greatly for what might become of her. Yet as distressed as he was, he steeled himself and refused to panic with determination to disallow fear from introducing further peril. But Vos however had given in to anger, he was but a squire and such discipline could not be expected. Osuin had the benefit of arduous experience behind him, and Vos did not. It was the duty of the Knight Pursuant to guide him, now that Selene could do so no longer.

Her words burned in mind as he committed to the difficult decision of leaving her behind. He knew he could not return without her, but it would be even worse to return without either of them. There was no abandoning Vos. Osuin gave pursuit with the same speed that he had sprinted towards Selene with.

Three arrows were loosed, but still the vengeful squire was not done.

“Vos!" Osuin called out. The squire was reaching for a magical solution, and in his state of fury he fretted over what answer he might find suitable. Wild magic was overtaking him, his form was shifting. What had he done?

With little idea, Osuin prepared for the worst.

He could not lose Selene.

He could not lose Vos.

He promised.

Selene Vos Fleetwood

 

[Selene]

The world around her burned. She was still in the foothills of the Spine, walking alone now, the edges of her periphery engulfed in a flame that emitted no light. Where were the others, brave Syr Osuin and Vos and Perorin, nuisance as he was. She called out to them but found her voice gone.

You have done me a great favor this evening, Selene of Prathil. I have been waiting a long time for someone competent enough to summon me. A figure appeared before her, cloaked in shadow and flame. Blood runes glowed along the figure's body, and griffin's wings sprouted from its back, curled and fraying. It held the voice of the demon from before, but quieter, less distorted. Frighteningly reasonable. Why don't you join me? I could show you arts Anathaeum would never allow, take you to heights beyond your mortal frame.

A tightness loosened in her throat, and her voice was granted back to her. Selene held her chin high. "Do you think I'm the sort to abandon my men for such a shallow bribe?"

Why not? After all, you abandoned your family.

Selene growled. She lashed out at the shadow, but as soon as her hand swiped through the figure, it blurred away. An echoing laughter followed after, and she let the anger ripple through her at the infuriating sound. This wasn't death that had caught ahold of her. It was some cruel game, and she was going to find a way out.

---

Three arrows pierced the retreating form of the demon. They sunk into the roiling form of the man-turned-beast, swallowed up completely without effect, not even the feathered tips sticking out. The last of the three, however, would dig deepest, a strange glow sparking from the wound for but a moment, before being obscured by worming tentacles.

"I'll look after Selene," Perorin called out. The elf ranger was already at Selene's side, pulling off his cloak and bundling it up underneath her head, for what little comfort it might bring. "You keep the boy safe!" The reassurance was a bit late, as the Knight Pursuant was already in pursuit, a desperate urgency quickening his movements.

The demon was some ways ahead already, but Vos, in his Wild form, was catching up. It was nearly within shredding distance when it reached a dead end. The rocky meadow dropped down suddenly into a deep and dangerous gorge, cutting off the demon's escape. The thing stopped. It turned around to face Vos, eyeless head swerving round to look at the terrible anger that would meet it soon.

And then, the thing went and sprouted wings.

What once were limbs shifted and split into many fraying parts, congealing again into wide swaths of flesh, a mockery of feathers. The demon beat its new wings once, gravel and rock flying out from underneath, twice, and spindly arms and legs pushed off the ground with unnatural force, thrice and it was in the air.

Mist swirled in the cool night. The moons hung low, nearly set, and a grey glow was washing over the sky. The griffin rose from its rest and blinked its golden eyes. It looked then to the horizon, where the dawn was rising.

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

The magic he was using had taken away any of Vos's quick wit and intelligence, leaving him to really on animal instinct. His eyes had locked onto the original arrow that still sprouted on the demon's form. The soft glow indicated a potentially useful tool.

It annoyed him that this creature was sprouting wings. He did not have wings and that was cheating, but he was not going to let him get away. No matter what.

With one last great leap, he clamped onto one of the creature's tentacles as the demon burst into the sky. His claws dug into the beast as deep as he could force them to try to get any sort of solid hold on this creature.

It would not be very heroic if he died simply from cracking like an egg after he felt from a great high. Even so, his thoughts were overwhelmed by his wild rage. He clawed and bit into the demon with his sharpened teeth. This thing had killed Selene, and deserved to feel every ounce of pain that he could inflict on him.

When his voice came out, it was deeper and more guttural, a mix of speech and a growl. "I'm not letting you run away."

 

[Osuin]

"I'll look after Selene, you keep the boy safe!" Perorin called out. Osuin, running at full sprint and had little breath to spare to give an answer. Yet the urgency of his motion implied he would do as Perorin mentioned. He had accompanied them to ensure Vos had his protection, and the young squire would have it regardless of his impulsiveness. Osuin had called out for him, and while Vos may have heard him he ultimately did not listen. Vos continued towards the edge of the cliff ahead, and did not stop even as the foul being sprouted wings from his back and took to the air. Osuin slowed down, but to his dismay Vos did not and continued in pursuit of their foe at full speed.

“Vos, let it go! We will hunt it down!” Osuin assured him, but by the time the words escaped his lips Vos had latched onto one of the creature's lingering tentacles. Osuin was far from acrobatic enough to follow, and watched as he brought himself to a stop a short distance from the cliff's edge.

Unable to join him, Osuin did what he could to protect and aid the squire. He focused his magic with both hands on the grip of his sword. The spell must be woven carefully, but also swiftly before the flying beast could take Vos too far away for the spell to reach him. The pommel of his sword emitted a glow, and from it a beam of light shot out to bathe Vos in the invigorating magic. Rayas flowed forth to strengthen him, to renew his might and provide energy that might help as he grappled the winged entity.

He could not fight by the side of the squire, but this enchanted was the closest Osuin could come to direct aid. Unable to follow, Osuin watched the two from the top of the cliff's edge.

 

[Selene]

Paws and talons crunched through the gravel as the griffin began to move towards the cliff's edge. Whatever magic Selene had conjured up had dissolved the blood stains, and its pale feathers glistened plush now in the moonlight. The Lord of the Mountain was all bulk, cords of muscle along its broad chest coiling upwards into half-spread wings.

It stopped astride of Osuin, looking towards Vos in his struggle. Bolstered as he was by the Dawn light, the demon's tentacles still tried to pull the boy-beast off. Dark wings strained against the weight of two bodies in the air, and the pair veered dangerously close to the sheer cliffsides. Then the griffin eyed the Knight next to it with a curious yellow gleam.

It lowered its head and crouched down on its front talons, twisting its wings out of the way so that its back was bared to the Knight. A rumbling sound was turning low in its throat, warm and commanding. Though it did not speak, an invitation seemed to be there in the gem of the griffin's eye, or perhaps a challenge. If Osuin took that challenge, the griffin would shift its balance to accommodate the extra weight, take one testing step backwards, and leap off the cliff's edge.

In the air, the demon shrieked. The two dueling figures were in a deadlock. Tooth and claw tore at dark flesh, but with each shed mouthful and fistful, more tendrils seemed to coil and close up its wounds. A cascade of limbs dove at Vos, but with his thickened skin and the protection of his mentor, none found purchase.

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

Vos felt...powerful. He could feel the magical energy coursing through his body. Energy that was not his. It had a feeling of warmth, steady and protective. It kept the tentacles of this demon at bay. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the still human side of Vos knew it was Osuin's magic.

The magic served as a reminder to come back to his senses, like an anchor, but he could not get himself under control. It was like he was locked inside of his own head. This animal side of Vos had fully taken over.

His claws and his teeth lashed out at the demon looking for any sign of purchase, any opportunity to cause this thing pain. Somewhere his instincts reminded him that he was high in the air by now, and he did not have wings...but that was a future Vos problem.

"I'm taking you with me."

Osuin Selene

 

[Osuin]

He stood still at the cliff's edge, stoic in his posture yet distraught in his situation. A great barrier of empty and untraversable space separated him from the squire. Osuin could only watch with fret as Vos held on to the escaping necromancer, his claws dug in for purchase while the two battled mid-air. A fight Osuin that could not join – he could only watch on with worry, and without a means to add his blade to the battle.

When he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him, he imagined it might be Perorin or Selene. Only when he turned around and saw it did he realize the griffin had approached. And it looked majestic, standing tall with its head held high. Not a spot of blood matted its fur or wings. Restored from the state the knights had found it in, Osuin looked upon it with a sense of pride. It was proof of their efforts, and evidence that their work and the pained suffering Selene incurred had been to a beneficial end.

They had done it, but they might lose Selene. Perorin was with her, and he’d have to trust her health to him. He had Vos to take care of now. As if to offer a solution, the griffin approached further and shared a curious look, before crouching down low. It took but a moment for Osuin to realize the gesture – the griffin would take him where his own feet could not. By its gleaming wings, his blade may taste the foul flesh of the necromancer once more. Now, it would be up to Osuin and the griffin to pursue and protect.

With care and quickness, he slipped one leg over the griffin’s offered shoulder, sitting atop them with his sword held in hand and his other arm holding on tight. Once he was securely seated in place, the griffin leapt from the cliffside and soared through the air to being the burly knight towards the two dueling figures.

Osuin didn’t know the first thing about riding a griffin, and he clearly hadn’t the time now. Yet he placed all his trust in the creature and had little trouble keeping seated while they flew faster towards the ongoing battle. From the corner of his eye, he could see the outstretched avian claw of the griffin reaching out. If the griffin was to reach for Vos, Osuin would allow it to. Keeping his hold secure, he tightened his grip on his sword to swing it in the griffin's defence, if need be.

“Vos!” Osuin called out, now close enough to get a true glimpse of the beast the squire had become. Lost to battle, it appeared the squire had only violence on his mind.

“Don't leave me to return without you, either!” It was no demand. Uncharacteristcally, he pleaded the words to the young squire. Osuin hoped he would listen, yet prepared for the possibility he might not.

With his sword wielded point first towards his foe, he prepared to battle against the necromancer while the griffin brought him into striking range.

Vos Fleetwood Selene

 

[Selene]

Valiantly the griffin dove and strafed ever closer to the demon, snapping with its beak and kicking with its claws, and valiantly the knight upon its back fought too. Three against one, even with the advantage of its many limbs, the demon would not be able to keep up the assault for long. Or so it seemed, for a handful of victorious moments. Then, a rumble shifted deep in the demon's chest, a sound that recomposed its very ribs.

ENOUGH!

The demon's echoing non-voice rang out, and with it a burst of energy, a gust of wind and darkness that pushed the griffin off course. The demon would sacrifice some of its own flesh, shedding the tentacles and outer layers that Vos clung to so zealously, and force the boy-beast off. Vos plummeted, and having lost nearly half a wing in the desperate outburst, the demon did too. Separated now, the two tumbled toward their mutual doom.

The griffin shrieked in response, and folded its wings firm against Osuin's legs. It dove as a falcon does, sleek form turning on a knife's edge as it maneuvered itself closer to Vos. Great talons reached out to grab the boy, and wings unfurled once more as it tried to gain air again. The weight of two bodies proved too much, and its effort could only slow their descent down. Osuin, Vos, and the griffin landed hard, skidding into a gravely stream that wound its way along the base of the cliff.

When they rose, they would see no immediate sign of the demon at the bottom of the ravine, no body to recover and no tracks to follow.

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

Vos first let out a howl of triumph when he felt a large chunk of the demon's body give, thinking that he had finally done some damage. That feeling was quickly replaced by fear as he felt his body plummet to earth and he saw that the demon was still living.

Their wasn't much Vos could do. He did not know how to fly. If he survived this then he would be sure to remember to look up how to. Thankfully, someone did know how to fly. He grunted as his body came to sudden stop as he was caught out of the sky by the majestic winged creature. He did not have time to thank anyone as they group crashed shortly after.

Vos felt the pain as he hit the ground and rolled several times before he came to a stop lying on his back right next to the stream. His transformation was gone. His magic had already pushed his body way past its limit and his muscles were to exhausted to even more. He was covered in blood and scratches.

Slowly, his sense of self came back as the animal instincts faded away. His consciousness came with tears as the memory of Selene slammed back into his mind. The tears streamed down his blood stained face.

"I couldn't stop him. I lost him."

Unable to move and out of mana. He was out of options. The only thing his body would let him do was cry.

Osuin Selene

 

[Osuin]

Osuin held on as tight as he could with one arm wrapped around the griffin, and his round shield strapped against his back. He’d used a shield on horseback, but never had he rode griffin, not any other flying mount for that matter. The posture seemed to work, as the griffin moved nimbly, and fought far more gracefully than he.

He nearly fell off once as the griffin dove to evade strikes from the necromancer’s tendrils. Yet the griffin had bid him upon its shoulders, and would surely protect him too. His life was in the care of the griffin now, and he did not dare hesitate to fight. Wild swings cut away tendrils that attempted to reach them from the sides. What the griffin could not tear away with beak and claw, Osuin hacked away with mighty sword strikes.

Vos too fought hard, and Osuin did away with notions for withdrawal. Midair and at a fatal distance from the ground, they were not only committed to the fight, but winning. It seemed to be enough, and persistence appeared to turn the battle in their favour. But hopes were dashed, and the battle took a sudden turn.

ENOUGH!

A gust of wind pushed him and the griffin out of fighting range, and before he could make even a single swing, the sight of Vos falling away was enough to cause Osuin to cease. The griffin dove down, and inertia straightened him immediately skyward. Were his legs not caught beneath the griffin's wings, he would have tumbled off then and there. Unable to move, he simply kept his arms in as the griffin reached out to grasp Vos mid-plummet.

The subsequent flap of its wings sent Osuin flat against the griffin's back again. It was enough to see that the ground was arriving much faster than the griffin was slowing down. Convinced that they would crash into it, Osuin braced himself for the impact. and when the griffin struck the ground he flew clear of it's back, making sure to toss his weapon aside so it did not strike either of them.

Osuin tumbled and rolled along the ground. Armour did little to absorb the raw impact as his shoulder struck down first, bruising it badly. It at least spared him the scrapes as he slid to a stop. He'd no time to count this fortune, spotting Vos sobbing and covered in blood.

“Vos, are you hu-” Osuin began, before rolling onto the ground again with a pained grunt and his ankle in his hand. After a moment to recover from the discovery of that bone fracture, he began to crawl over to the squire.

“Are you alright?” Osuin asked, turning back to check on the griffin, too.

Vos Fleetwood Selene

 

[Selene]

With a powerful burst of movement, the griffin rolled to a standing position. It shook its fur and feathers off, shedding an impressive spray of spring water across the rocks. None the worse for wear, the beast huffed and stamped its great clawed forefeet, looking ready to leap back into action. But when it found nothing left to charge at, the spiny feathers on its back stopped bristling and - sleek and curious now - it turned to look at Osuin and the squire. Air sifted through its beak in long currents as it toed forward, sniffing at the two humans.

Rain began to fall from the night sky in thin, cold drops. A crisp scent filled the air like snapped branches and fresh earth, washing away the blood and grime of the fight. Stepping closer, the griffon stretched one of its powerful wings out above the heads of Osuin and Vos, though the rain was not heavy and its wing barely covered the both of them. A low sound rumbled deep in its throat, like a cat purring, if said cat was the size of a draft horse.

"Aye, you alive down there?" Perorin's pointy head popped out from atop the cliffside. A few pebbles crumbled down as he teetered deftly, but dangerously, close to the edge. "I've called for help, just sit tight for a bit."

Osuin Vos Fleetwood

 

[Wroc Flintson]

At first, he struggled to respond because of his sobbing. It took him a moment to get himself under control. He attempted to move and put himself in a more comfortable position, but he couldn't. Vos was just to exhausted to move.

The young squire was not aware, but his body was instinctively protecting him. If he tried to move right now, then he's already depleted muscles would damage themselves to the point of extreme injury. Thankfully he could manage to speak.

"I-I-I'm ok...Is the griffin ok?"

He had to focus on something that wasn't Selene, otherwise, he would just fall back into his feelings of despair and sadness.

Osuin Selene

 

[Theolonious Montbank]

A good retainer thinks nothing but their lord's well being.

It was by this maxim the knight Theolonious Montbank did think and abide to during the quiet hours of the night, his frame face down and his wings draped across the bedframe as his mind remained quiet and his eyes kept shut. His head rested on a pillow, and a taloned hand hung out from the side of the bed, and within it a small collection of metal chimes was held aloft above a silver platter.

In the early days of his own undertaking of the task before him, he had startled himself from slumber at least three times by the sound of metal falling. His comrades at first found the sound disturbing. Now, he held the chimes without slipping, his mind used to the solitary task of keeping his mind occupied as his body rested, yet the assurance of if he should fall asleep there would be a quick awakening. Now, if his comrades heard the sound of chimes against metal in the dead of night, it could only mean one thing, and were reassured by his vigilance.

Montbank was waiting for the call.

His regular duties to man the walls during the night, duties to peer further than anyone else could without arcane assistance from the heights his curse allowed him to reach, these night time tasks were supplanted by this more important task. A task which Montbank had originally performed without permission, as a maverick might to save the day alone, but now this calling was provided allowance so that he might act swiftly to those undertaking dangerous tasks beyond the quickness of horse. No-one could stop him from doing such a thing out of conscience, so now it was deemed worthy that he should perform such a night duty as a duty all his own.

And now that duty was official, all contingencies allowed by virtue of weight were prepared. At the foot of his bed were all manner of healing supplies, bandages tightly bound, salves, disinfectant, magical sources of healing, all tucked into pockets of a white tight fitting jacket that was ready to be donned by the winged knight should he be required tonight.

His armour was left aside for another day. Theo could fight from the skies. But it was not another fighter the call would ask for. Another fighter rarely made the difference with the time delay between his calling and his arrival. With his gift of flight, bolstered by his command of the winds to carry him through his course, he would deliver aid to those injured, dying or beleaguered, by virtue of the equipment he had picked out himself and trained with, by merit of his own healing magics, he might save a life and the mission be saved from becoming pyrrhic.

The pursuit of healing and rescue he had only picked up once he had gained winged and additional purpose with such a possession. And at this thought and realisation in his quiet moments of solitude, he considered another saying.

When life closes a door, it opens a new one.

And then it came.

His eyes opened and were perfectly attuned to the darkness, the orange eyes unmistakably his. His hand closed around the chimes and clutched them tightly, as if it were the source of the message itself. He allowed himself a second to consider it, and wait if there was more information.

It was a simple and short, the call for assistance was concise.

Captain Selene's venture.

At once, Montbank folded his wings and pushed himself off the bed sharply, energised by the message he had received, yet he carried no elation, just the attentiveness and responsiveness to the task before him.

When most knights set about their task, the donning of armour, the wrapping of belts, the binding of swords to waists, it was done as a group, with cheer, with a solidarity of purpose and the day's cause. But Theo was alone in his preparation. If others heard him rouse, they thought better than to disturb his actions and his thought process. They did not seek to tarry him for any delay might cause further injury to those who called for aid. It was a solemn affair, but one done with expedience and purpose. The jacket was donned and affixed so that nothing would fall out during flight, and his sword was tightly bound to his leg so that it might not fall just the same.

Theo exited the sleeping arrangements of knights, felt the cool air upon his face and smiled as best as his features could allow. He snapped his beak three times, as was tradition, breathed in deep three times to oxygenate himself, as was his own protocol, and spoke words of magic.

“By the winds give my flight strength, by my magic do take me to where I must attend,” Theo said quietly, activating his own understanding of the air itself. His wings shimmered and shivered as the pulse of magic was commanded to aid him in his flight, and he gave three beats of his wings and petitioned with thoughts the tumultuous skies.

Winds be good.

Winds be fair.

Syr Montbank shot silently into the sky with a powerful explosion of energy from his wings, becoming a white flare of hope to those who held the night watch that might notice his silence entrance to the canopy of stars. His visage could be seen for long moments as he built altitude, before it appeared as if he had become a star himself, shooting across the blackness to provide aid to those who called for it.

I'll make it.

I'll reach you.