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Frozen Fractals Team 3
- Thread starter Raigryn Vayd
- Start date
Threads related to the winter 2025 event
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- 85
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Paradoxically the bitter chill of the wind warmed Nuir's heart. It was his first time returning this far north. Part of him was simply glad to see such familiar scenery. The rest of him was kept warm by the excitement at the prospect of seeing the inner halls of such a famed ancient magic.
Just seeing the crafted architecture of the palace would be worthy of the travel up here.
Most compellingly the many legends he had heard of it included a library. How could he pass up the opportunity to visit a library so hidden and closely guarded.
It was the sort of journey that he would have taken on alone if need be. Yet somehow he found himself with quite striking companions for this expedition instead. All the better. He craned his neck to look up at the one with the fiery hair for a moment, then his gaze shifted to the elegant horned woman.
It was just a touch awkward as he could really only keep eye contact with one at a time considering that himself and the woman were only about half the other man's height.
He pulled down his scarf "Perhaps we ought to give our names and skills. I am called Nuir, a healer and scholar. " It seemed only natural that they know what strengths and weaknesses their little group had before heading out into the thick of the ice.
The woman struck him as the very capable type, The man....well regardless of his skills Nuir suspected that they wouldn't be lacking for strength. He looked like he could practically pick Nuir up and hurl him right across the expanse. As amusing as the thought was the Elf shuddered to think what state he would be in on the other side so he quickly abandoned the idea.
Nuir at least assessed that he would need to make up for the lack of his martial prowess with other means or risk dragging their progress.
Koltûn
Cynical Aspie
Just seeing the crafted architecture of the palace would be worthy of the travel up here.
Most compellingly the many legends he had heard of it included a library. How could he pass up the opportunity to visit a library so hidden and closely guarded.
It was the sort of journey that he would have taken on alone if need be. Yet somehow he found himself with quite striking companions for this expedition instead. All the better. He craned his neck to look up at the one with the fiery hair for a moment, then his gaze shifted to the elegant horned woman.
It was just a touch awkward as he could really only keep eye contact with one at a time considering that himself and the woman were only about half the other man's height.
He pulled down his scarf "Perhaps we ought to give our names and skills. I am called Nuir, a healer and scholar. " It seemed only natural that they know what strengths and weaknesses their little group had before heading out into the thick of the ice.
The woman struck him as the very capable type, The man....well regardless of his skills Nuir suspected that they wouldn't be lacking for strength. He looked like he could practically pick Nuir up and hurl him right across the expanse. As amusing as the thought was the Elf shuddered to think what state he would be in on the other side so he quickly abandoned the idea.
Nuir at least assessed that he would need to make up for the lack of his martial prowess with other means or risk dragging their progress.
Koltûn
Cynical Aspie
Cynical Aspie
Member
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- 4
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Ordinarily, the cold didn't bother Aiushtha, hence why she often elected to wear form-fitting leggings and a low-cut corset that showed a lot of skin. But something about the cold in this region was just...different. More bizarre, surreal...magical, one would say. Wind whipped through her leathery wings, threatening to push her off-course.
Off in the distance, Frostbound Palace called; a change in pace from causing hearts to stray over the centuries.
Call it curiosity, but even disregarding all the loot that she could find in this endeavor, a part of Aiushtha wanted to see if she could speak to the Ice Queen. Could she? Would she find one as damaged as she was? A heart as cracked as hers? Could the Ice Queen even be spoken to?
Ah, well, it should be an interesting endeavor, regardless.
The cold of the northern spine versus the heat of her existence - one born of the Thirteen Floors of Armageddon.
She needed to land and give her wings a brief rest, so she descended, letting snow and ice depress under her heels. And being called to from down below gave her the perfect excuse to do so, gliding down on the leathery membranes of her wings, to where snow and ice dipped under her heels. Her magenta eyes were something to behold - a gaze that took a strong will to resist falling for. And her hair, almost as white as the snow around them all, dangled just above her ankles.
This...person, very young by Aerai standards, looked more of scholar than of warrior - a far cry from what the race's reputation spoke of. Folding her wings behind herself, she approached - whether one was seeing multiple of her or not depended on one's force of will.
"I don't believe I've seen an Aerai that looks like you," she said, her tail curling up behind her. "Not in ages- an Aerai that chooses a scholar's path over a warrior seems to happen once every other generation. I am Aiushtha - a seductress. An illusionist, one may say."
Her gloved hand, topped with delicate chitin that gave the illusion of claws, came up between them. He was warm and young - a perfect complement to her cold and shattered soul.
Off in the distance, Frostbound Palace called; a change in pace from causing hearts to stray over the centuries.
Call it curiosity, but even disregarding all the loot that she could find in this endeavor, a part of Aiushtha wanted to see if she could speak to the Ice Queen. Could she? Would she find one as damaged as she was? A heart as cracked as hers? Could the Ice Queen even be spoken to?
Ah, well, it should be an interesting endeavor, regardless.
The cold of the northern spine versus the heat of her existence - one born of the Thirteen Floors of Armageddon.
She needed to land and give her wings a brief rest, so she descended, letting snow and ice depress under her heels. And being called to from down below gave her the perfect excuse to do so, gliding down on the leathery membranes of her wings, to where snow and ice dipped under her heels. Her magenta eyes were something to behold - a gaze that took a strong will to resist falling for. And her hair, almost as white as the snow around them all, dangled just above her ankles.
This...person, very young by Aerai standards, looked more of scholar than of warrior - a far cry from what the race's reputation spoke of. Folding her wings behind herself, she approached - whether one was seeing multiple of her or not depended on one's force of will.
"I don't believe I've seen an Aerai that looks like you," she said, her tail curling up behind her. "Not in ages- an Aerai that chooses a scholar's path over a warrior seems to happen once every other generation. I am Aiushtha - a seductress. An illusionist, one may say."
Her gloved hand, topped with delicate chitin that gave the illusion of claws, came up between them. He was warm and young - a perfect complement to her cold and shattered soul.
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He moved rather effortlessly through the snow and frost, a careless stride to his step. For all his impressive stature, Koltûn seemed to move with fair dexterity for one his size, marching through the icy fields as easily as though he was going for a stroll in the park.
This was no mere coincidence.
The Blightlands - his homeland - beyond the Blighted Plateau were a frigid, barren place. One where the freezing gales of the Blighted Sea met the cold winds that blew from the Spine to forge a truly merciless land; one where the cold cut, and the frost killed.
In short, this was an environment he was well acquainted with.
His attire was testament to that. Clad in Molthal-forged armour of blackened steel, the scion of the Ash King of the Blightlands sported still a thick fur cloak draped around his shoulders. The inside of his armour was, likewise, lined with warmer materials - slivers of which would crop up in those spots where the metal plates of his armours interlocked - while the underside of his boots included short spikes to better the adherence of his step to the frost and snow. Strapped to his back, he carried the Fyrestone - his enormous warhammer - seemingly inert, its large head of molten rock coated with a thin layer of frost.
He ground his march to a halt before his companions, his gaze shifting downwards appraisingly. Though his features betrayed no hint of emotion, his face as still as though it had been carved of stone, internally he came away unimpressed.
A scholar and an illusion temptress.
He wondered if either of them had ever held a weapon; whether they could to save their lives. No matter. If it came to it, he could complete the mission on his own: if these two died, they died.
His gaze shifted from his assigned companions to the palace. Time was wasting.
- “I’m Koltûn.” - He drawled, his words precise even in spite of the slow cadence of his voice. Though his Common was fluent, one could notice a hint of the harsh Molthal accent clinging to some syllable or other.
For a moment he thought to leave it at that. He was a warrior, that was what he’d bring to the table, although it had to be said that - whether from his towering physique, or from the colossal warhammer strapped to his back - his companions would probably be able to guess as much. No point in stating redundancies.
There was one skillset of his though, that one could be forgiven for overlooking.
He took the straps that tied the Fyrestone to his back, and took his hammer in his hand. From its head of molten rock, flames sprouted; bright blazes of crimson, orange and yellow that melted away the frost and radiated heat that was capable of piercing even this unnatural cold.
- “I’m a fire mage.” -
Nuir
Cynical Aspie
This was no mere coincidence.
The Blightlands - his homeland - beyond the Blighted Plateau were a frigid, barren place. One where the freezing gales of the Blighted Sea met the cold winds that blew from the Spine to forge a truly merciless land; one where the cold cut, and the frost killed.
In short, this was an environment he was well acquainted with.
His attire was testament to that. Clad in Molthal-forged armour of blackened steel, the scion of the Ash King of the Blightlands sported still a thick fur cloak draped around his shoulders. The inside of his armour was, likewise, lined with warmer materials - slivers of which would crop up in those spots where the metal plates of his armours interlocked - while the underside of his boots included short spikes to better the adherence of his step to the frost and snow. Strapped to his back, he carried the Fyrestone - his enormous warhammer - seemingly inert, its large head of molten rock coated with a thin layer of frost.
He ground his march to a halt before his companions, his gaze shifting downwards appraisingly. Though his features betrayed no hint of emotion, his face as still as though it had been carved of stone, internally he came away unimpressed.
A scholar and an illusion temptress.
He wondered if either of them had ever held a weapon; whether they could to save their lives. No matter. If it came to it, he could complete the mission on his own: if these two died, they died.
His gaze shifted from his assigned companions to the palace. Time was wasting.
- “I’m Koltûn.” - He drawled, his words precise even in spite of the slow cadence of his voice. Though his Common was fluent, one could notice a hint of the harsh Molthal accent clinging to some syllable or other.
For a moment he thought to leave it at that. He was a warrior, that was what he’d bring to the table, although it had to be said that - whether from his towering physique, or from the colossal warhammer strapped to his back - his companions would probably be able to guess as much. No point in stating redundancies.
There was one skillset of his though, that one could be forgiven for overlooking.
He took the straps that tied the Fyrestone to his back, and took his hammer in his hand. From its head of molten rock, flames sprouted; bright blazes of crimson, orange and yellow that melted away the frost and radiated heat that was capable of piercing even this unnatural cold.
- “I’m a fire mage.” -
Nuir
Cynical Aspie
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It wasn't the first time he had heard such an assessment. It was something which loomed on the horizon.
"I'm afraid I'm not well connected with the peoples."
He felt the day he would need to correct his very limited knowledge of the Aerai was approaching ever closer.
Though he doubted that it would be a part of this journey.
There was a hint of friendliness about his otherwise stoic features. Certainly, there was no hint of offense.
Nuir blinked and took the hand held out by the seductress giving it a polite shake.
"Well met."
His attention shifting back up to the tall one he noted that this one seemed much less inclined to small talk
Nuir's eyes were drawn to the Fyrestone with some interest. It seemed that Koltun was very well suited to this endeavor.
"Indeed! How uncannily fortunate."
Though the idea of melting their through the ice palace did present one of two concerns.
He tabled the first one. No point in worrying about burned books in a library they had yet to reach.
More importantly between Aiushtha's strong wings and Koltun's long legs, Nuir was going to need to greatly quicken his stride or be left behind.
Which led him to the more important topic of conversation. He reached into his cloak to pull forth a small journal he had written notes in about the various legends.
"Both of you likely have better sight of it than myself, I'm afraid.
Does there seem to be a direct path to the gate?" His gloved fingers flipped through the pages to a map with a series of ice bridges drawn. He held this up for the others to see.
"I spoke with a traveler from a failed expedition, who recounted their own path."
There was no telling if the information was reliable, even if the traveler had been truthful there was always the possibility of weather or avalanches shifting the path across the expanse.
A bird's eye view would be fortunate in this case. He too was eager to be on their way to the gates but he also wished to be cautious in the approach.
Cynical Aspie
Koltûn
"I'm afraid I'm not well connected with the peoples."
He felt the day he would need to correct his very limited knowledge of the Aerai was approaching ever closer.
Though he doubted that it would be a part of this journey.
There was a hint of friendliness about his otherwise stoic features. Certainly, there was no hint of offense.
Nuir blinked and took the hand held out by the seductress giving it a polite shake.
"Well met."
His attention shifting back up to the tall one he noted that this one seemed much less inclined to small talk
Nuir's eyes were drawn to the Fyrestone with some interest. It seemed that Koltun was very well suited to this endeavor.
"Indeed! How uncannily fortunate."
Though the idea of melting their through the ice palace did present one of two concerns.
He tabled the first one. No point in worrying about burned books in a library they had yet to reach.
More importantly between Aiushtha's strong wings and Koltun's long legs, Nuir was going to need to greatly quicken his stride or be left behind.
Which led him to the more important topic of conversation. He reached into his cloak to pull forth a small journal he had written notes in about the various legends.
"Both of you likely have better sight of it than myself, I'm afraid.
Does there seem to be a direct path to the gate?" His gloved fingers flipped through the pages to a map with a series of ice bridges drawn. He held this up for the others to see.
"I spoke with a traveler from a failed expedition, who recounted their own path."
There was no telling if the information was reliable, even if the traveler had been truthful there was always the possibility of weather or avalanches shifting the path across the expanse.
A bird's eye view would be fortunate in this case. He too was eager to be on their way to the gates but he also wished to be cautious in the approach.
Cynical Aspie
Koltûn
Cynical Aspie
Member
- Messages
- 4
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The whip conjured, curled but ready for action, in Aiushtha's hand. There was a pun to be made about the heat of men warming her up, but she held her tongue on it, as with a giant (or one of giant descent) that was also a mage of fire, speaking it or pulling her usual charming tricks would risk making it a bit too literal. She gauged the strength of the wind at the tip of her wings and the ends of her hair and waited for it to ease a bit before taking flight.
"Depends on how long ago the last expedition was, handsome," she quipped. "And how strong the winds have gotten since..."
Her leggings clung to her as she jumped, her tail flowing behind her as she flapped her wings to gain altitude. From where she tried to hover - just high enough for a good vantage point, but just low enough to avoid sudden shifts in wind direction - it was simple enough to make out high paths were snow could shift under the others to reveal a hidden fall or low areas that risked snow and rockfall from above.
And that was simple common sense, without factoring in any magical traps on the approach.
Each had creatures in the form of ice wraiths that might trigger such events if attacked - at least, that's what Aiushtha would have made her "pets" do back home in Armageddon at her own palace, so her expectations were a little bit skewed.
"High country or low country, both cold and hazardous - and we'll have plenty of company on either path," she called, before gliding lower. "And that doesn't account for traps."
"Depends on how long ago the last expedition was, handsome," she quipped. "And how strong the winds have gotten since..."
Her leggings clung to her as she jumped, her tail flowing behind her as she flapped her wings to gain altitude. From where she tried to hover - just high enough for a good vantage point, but just low enough to avoid sudden shifts in wind direction - it was simple enough to make out high paths were snow could shift under the others to reveal a hidden fall or low areas that risked snow and rockfall from above.
And that was simple common sense, without factoring in any magical traps on the approach.
Each had creatures in the form of ice wraiths that might trigger such events if attacked - at least, that's what Aiushtha would have made her "pets" do back home in Armageddon at her own palace, so her expectations were a little bit skewed.
"High country or low country, both cold and hazardous - and we'll have plenty of company on either path," she called, before gliding lower. "And that doesn't account for traps."