Quest The Ancient Dweller

[Lazule]

And still Lazule lay on her bedroll.

Her hands held on her chest.

The rising.

The falling.

With each gentle breath.

Undisturbed by the voices of her fellows in arms. The workings of her body to mend itself. The fading of her redness of her skin back to fair. The process as slow as many naturally regenerative processes, the aid of the potion in the endeavor notwithstanding. For it was not a thing to note with continued observation, but in moments separated by gulfs of time. A noticing here of her skin red. A noticing here of her skin less so. A noticing still later of her skin fair, the journey only now apparent with such distance from where it had started.

And it would be required, the strength and health that slowly renewed within her.

For it was demanded that monsters be slain, and to this end a demand would be placed upon her body for the weaponization of light itself. And she would give as much of herself as needed.

The crackling and sputtering of the campfire beside her. Shrunken was the flame with time and the consumption of that which would burn.

Spoiler

Vigilo (Anima + 7 Subaccounts)Today at 8:26 AM


1-50, wake up. 51-100, nap time



/r 1d100

Are you feeling lucky?BOTToday at 8:26 AM

@Vigilo (Anima + 7 Subaccounts): 1d100 = (80) = 80

 

[Erën]

Te’leis smiled to Aless and thanked her for her kindness. She felt blessed to be given the opportunity to recover and would take it with gratitude. To sit back and watch the fire unbothered was most welcome, and as she gazed into the flame, she pondered how their companions were faring. She could feel a calmness from the other two, and so she could only assume they were relatively safe for now. It was only a short time before their return now, and that was made clear Rekh’s coming.

She was not totally alarmed but startled nonetheless by Rekh’s sudden appearance. He spoke of a nearing battle. Her expression became grim, and she reached to her bow which rested nearby. She would not be able to use her magic, but she had enough strength to draw. She breathed a deep breath and remained where she was, unsure of how she should proceed. Her eyes looked to Lazule, still much in need of rest from her prior encounter with these beasts.

Te’leis chose to remain where she was. She too required rest but would also be well within earshot should she be required to join the battle.



With the bird-man’s departure the elves too left with haste. They darted through the trees and out onto the road, and then after following it for a while they turned off again. They found their way to their camp’s path and halted there. They made themselves familiar with the surround and then readied themselves for the first signs of intrusion.

Erën and Aidathin both hid themselves amid the shadows of the trees, relatively close to one another. It would not be long before their guests were to arrive, but some time could be afforded.

“Erën, what happened? Your mind is clouded to me, even here.” Being so close it should have been easy for Aidathin to have a decent understanding of Erën’s encounter, but he persisted in remaining distant.

“I saw her, Aidathin,” he whispered, a faint trembling on his voice, “as clearly as I can see you now.”

Then like a spillway giving out he felt Erën’s sorrow. The image of having to cut down his own child – even if it was just an illusion - was an excruciating one. Then, Aidathin realized Erën’s fear. It was difficult to read the mind of an Aeraesarian, at least without being detected. But for those of the Shoraes…

“There are few things that could explain what I saw,” said Erën, who turned his head toward the sound of snapping wood and rustling branches which grew less distant with every second, “but for one of the Order to conceive such a thing, is far from unimaginable.”

They remained silent then, pondering the gravity of their realization while there was still a chance to do so.

One of their own had turned to the shadow.

 

[Aless Frostborn]

Aless immediately moved to don her armor. It would take her a few minutes, but undead were seldom the swiftest. Most moved with the speed of the creatures they had been in life or slower, at least in her experience. It was the relentless nature that made them formidable. Each piece of her steel second skin fit perfectly together, worn in all the right places to make it comfortable. The pieces were more articulated than most, made of smaller segments of steel that fit together in a way that allowed for flow. It was her request and the work of a master dwarven smith.

“I will join you,” Aless said in her brusque way, thoughts already turning towards combat. Despite her dedication to her new life as a farmer, she hadn’t stopped her martial practicing and conditioning. “I would rather fight the undead there than here, for everyone’s sake.”

She worked as quickly as she could, but there were many pieces to be fully geared. Part of her was so eager it wanted to engage while she just had her subarmalis, but wisdom dictated more armor was better. “Go ahead of me if you need to,” she told Rekh. “I will join the fray as soon as I am prepared. It will not take me long,” she said as she cinched on another piece. “Hopefully I will be there before they arrive, but either way, I will be there.”

Woe had not tasted the flesh of undead for years, but she knew she would take grim pleasure of rectifying that situation. Her distaste of necromancy had only grown in the absence of the presence she most associated with it.

...My talents bring you victory, sweet thing. That you may always rely on...

Aless forced that thought away, a brief current of anger and hurt motivating her to armor herself more quickly. She wasn’t going to let undead harm her current companions. She was a poor protector, but she intended to try until the inevitable turn.

 

[Rekh KaHarut]

Rekh nodded in acknowledgment and appreciation to Aless’ decision to join them at the choking point. He was swift to finish donning his cuirass. “We will look to your coming then, Aless.” Cinching the last of the straps he added to Te'leis, "If anything should happen here, I am a flap of the wings away. I pray our opposition is not drawn to either of you." And then, he departed.

__________________________________________________________________​

Down the hill, Erën and Aidathin were prepared for the undead to round the corner when Rekh landed on a boulder overlooking them, the sounds of the undead's inexorable approach growing in volume. He noticed the dour tone, and shared in their silence. He began to reinstate the dispelling magics of Harut'arash, and waited.

 

[Lazule]

And still Lazule lay on her bedroll.

Her hands held on her chest.

The rising.

The falling.

With each gentle breath.

Gone was the world in each night. All that dwell within vanished in the closing of her eye. No monsters, no innocents. Merely the dark of the mind at rest and the vague awareness therein, that sliver of separation from oblivion itself. And it was as though waking would create the monsters for her to slay and the innocents for her to protect. The rebirth of the world with each morning, just as it was with her very first waking.

Nothing.

And suddenly.

Life itself.

For this, she would always give gratitude.

Spoiler

Vigilo (Anima + 7 Subaccounts)Today at 8:14 AM


1-50 wake up, 51-100 honeybadger



/r 1d100

Are you feeling lucky?BOTToday at 8:14 AM

@Vigilo (Anima + 7 Subaccounts): 1d100 = (78) = 78

 

[Erën]

They carried on passively dragging themselves along even on after the hindrance of the river. Some were more whole than others, and some could even still vocalize their presence with coughs, hisses, grunts, or growls. For the most part these creatures had spent their previous existence as humans, but there were others mixed in as well. A few former dwarves, some orc, even some animals made up their rank. All of them were of the dead now, driven only by the ambitions of their handler. Though theirs was not Zeng, at least not anymore.

There was another now.

Schooled in the ways of these darkest of arts, the elf Anur’Ephal had taken up the mantle of necromancer – albeit still under his master Zeng’s careful guidance. But this was not the elf’s first craft, and despite being novitiate he had proven to be a quick study and could even conjure up creatures of his own after only a short while. But now, he commanded these dead, who had been raised and augmented with the strengths of their former master.

It had been difficult for him to maintain his hold over such creatures at first, but over the course of their journey he had grown accustom to the strain. He could feel the beleaguered moaning of their tortured souls weigh heavily his mind. It was invigorating.

With monsters as powerful as the ones Zeng could conjure under his command, he felt now that he could be capable of such accomplishments and that his ability to wield them would prove fatal for any who dared to intervene in their plan. With them, he would put a swift end to their chasers.

Yes, there were strangers among them but some of them he knew well.

They had once even been called “friends.”


Erën’s patience was growing thin. He could hear the dead, some ways beyond the fog which rolled forward, almost ushering in their presence. He strained to see, and even though his sight was less than others of his kind at night he should have still been able to distinguish something even in the fog.

Aidathin quietly acknowledged Rekh’s return, and drew near, “beware my friend. We fear there may be… more than just these mindless wretches that approach.” He gave a rather grievous look, but not as such to allude to any despair – only caution. Some of their Order had been much…greater than these three.

It was all of their hope that this one was not of these sorts.

The fog only just reached at Erën’s legs – who stood some meters ahead the others - and the proximity of their foe became far more apparent than just moments ago. A great rumbling growl came forth from the depth of the fog, and in a flash of dark red a great light shot forth from a person near the rear of the undead’s rank, cutting the veiled mists apart.

The once near-passive animates riled with newfound strength, and touched by the light their eyes became as red flame. They snapped and writhed, and then with yet another sound from the one behind, the fog became as ash and was taken in the breeze in yet another show of illusion.

With the black ash flying the undead began. They had no formation, no coherence. Where they should have charged forward as one, some started and others lingered for a time, some charged forward without aim and others faltered and fell, breaking their rank into a pitiful display – no doubt another distraction.

The first few were of course staggered, and unfruitful for their master. Erën leapt forward and unleashed his rage upon his foes, three left lying in halves and the forth beheaded and booted backward with a thunderous kick. It fell back and slammed into two others which were close in tow.

He darted back, and Aidathin now moved past and swung his lance with a might cleave, dropping several other nearby beasts that reached out with malice.

An axe came to fall upon him. It was deflected aside. Erën’s sword had intervened. The rear of his lance met with the creature’s head. Erën’s sword severed it.

They moved away from each other, making sure to stay close to the others as well. So far it was well, but what kept these two troubled was the source of the light they had seen.

It was a familiar light. But now it was tainted light.


Already, the strain had over doubled.

They were too difficult to control, too many, too strong for him.

Instead, he let them run wild, and controlled which ones he could.

 

[Aless Frostborn]

Aless donned her armor as smoothly and swiftly as possible. For plate, it was highly articulated, the many small plates around joints and thick steel, overlapping bands across her waist rather than one solid breastplate covering her down to her belt buckle allowed her extra flexibility. It made her armor unorthodox, but so was Aless. It didn’t take her long, not with so many decades of constant practice. She would miss the first minute or two of the fight if the undead moved at a speed she recognized.

A great deal could happen in a minute or two, in Aless’s experience. She worked away diligently, making some noise that might wake Lazule, but not much of it and she seemed a sound enough sleeper to not be roused.

She tried not to think too hard about her foe or their master. Whenever she did, her past bubbled up with memories she preferred to block out whenever possible. It was enough to know they were undead, their master was some necromancer, and both needed to die for a variety of reasons.

Once she was ready, she grabbed Woe and headed down the path to join the others. Hopefully, they would be enough.

 

[Rekh KaHarut]

Rekh sighed, the steam of his breath showing on the top of his cuirass, quickly fading with the fog. The beasts would be here sooner rather than later. The irony had not been lost on him as to the nature of his allies, the Elves beside the rock that he was perched on; but this was beyond ancient grudges. The undead were a greater threat, their actions pressed by a wicked mind into dominating the countryside. This was an act of war, and there was no army in striking distance for leagues around. No, this was a committed path. The Raaka sterned himself and looked up as the the first of the undead reached their position.

The undead fell on Erën and Aidathin in a frenzy, no organization whatsoever, the two Elves working in swift unison. Impressed, but not dazed, Rekh leaped into the air and then engaged slightly past Erën’s position, picking himself a particularly large specimen of an Orc, held in animation by the cruel magics of its master. He landed, his blade moving with a swiftness that would come unexpected from a person with such bulk, and where the blade struck, the pitiful creature crumpled in a low flash of light that seemed to cut the air itself, the magic holding it dissipating in a dazzling display given the ash and fog. This was going to be swift if exhausting, given the three, and soon to be four, skilled killers expressing their talents.

 

[Lazule]

And still Lazule lay on her bedroll.

Her hands held on her chest.

The rising.

The falling.

With each gentle breath.

And then she awoke. Some single instance of a stirring or the combined effect of many over so short a time as voices spoke within the cave and the sound of movement and other various and small things. This she did not know, which it had been that woke her, only that the stark blackness of sleep had been replaced with the warm glow of the campfire in the cave.

Lazule sat up slowly. It did not feel like a pre-dawn dark. Was it in fact still the middle of the night?

Someone leaving the cave. The last graces of the orange light of the fire illuminating the silhouette in that last instant before the swallowing of them by the dark.

Lazule glanced around. Slow and inquisitive. Saw Te'leis there. Watching over the fire. Awake as well.

"Where has everyone g-gone?" Lazule asked.

 

[Erën]

Erën’thiel… come with me.

The whispers echoed in his mind and stirred his anger further, and again as another undead approached he smote it down with a furious assault.

The darkness suits you, my friend.

His eyes grew wide, and he peered past Rekh and beyond the mess of flesh hungry monsters and he fixed upon one still figure just barely visible to him for all the ash and mist. He was distracted by another foe momentarily, witnessing Rekh make quick work of the former orc, and when his gaze returned the figure was unseen.

He stood still, trying his best to find him again. Another of the dead fell just next to him, struck by Aidathin's mighty lance. Erën whirled around to stand next to him.

Standing so close he felt that Aidathin too had been disturbed. The presence they had felt made it terribly clear who they were dealing with.

Friend.

* * *
​

Aidathin, ever the noble warrior…

His lance fell upon a shorter wretch, burying itself deep in gruesome gore. A kick released the cold corpse from his weapon and with ease he swung his lance around to undo another creature.

Forget the lies, let go… come with me.

He ignored the thoughts that crept into his mind. They were empty. With their intrusion he understood their source - the presence was unmistakable. He cast down another of the dead just next to Erën, who then came around to his side following the blow. He felt the mutual uneasiness.

As soon as the elves had rallied, they struck forth again as one. They shot up both flanks of their winged comrade and assumed a defensive formation as the dead began to close in from the sides, still in intermittent waves.

At this rate, the battle would drone on, but there was little fear of these creatures overtaking them, despite their fervour. They hacked and slashed with fury, but something about them was off. It was as if there was no true weight to them.


His blood coursed with the fire of rage, embarrassed by his lack of ability. He'd fancied himself a virtuoso in the Dark Arts, but it was painfully obvious he had overestimated himself. Zeng's magics were still far above his, and his beasts – though powerful, would prove to be diminished, their strength left largely unfed...

He reached out with his mind, finding the two elves, and scraping into their thoughts. He taunted, he lured. Perhaps deep down he was lonely, even ashamed. He’d thrown everything away in his pursuit of power, and perhaps now he desired his companionship be returned.

But he was twisted. He would never make amends. They would follow him now or perish. But still, he truly wished…

Still, some creatures he still controlled, and he directed them around the three and sought to surround them. Some of his minions yet remained close to him.

He reached forth with his mind again and felt yet another familiar presence, farther. He focused.

Her.

They were all here. And with new friends of their own. Even an Avian.

How interesting.


Te'leis watched as Aless readied herself for combat. Though her armor was intricate, she moved with pause, latching each piece after another in a fluidic and almost mesmerizing motion. It was certainly a procedure she was far more than acquainted with. She looked to their dimming fire, and reached to add material to it.

Te'leis… have you forgotten what they did to you…

She froze. Slowly her hand lowered. A frown crossed her lips. She looked back up to Aless as she departed into the dark.

How could you go back after everything they did…?

“Where has everyone g-gone?” Lazule asked.

She turned to Lazule, who without her noticing had sat up, roused from her well deserved slumber. She looked in much better health than when they had first met, and Te'leis was happy that she could be of what assistance she had... Her expression softened, and she hid the troubles which had now been unveiled within her mind.

“Something has happened… I am unsure of what all, but it seems this Zeng has sent his minions out into the night to find us. And now they have…”

Her expression hardened, and with newfound strength she rose to her feet. There was determination in her eyes, and it blatantly ignored the gnawing of the exhaustion she felt.

“Not only this, but Zeng has sent another like him…” she began towards the cave's entrance, “…who is also like us.” As she reached the opening, she reached out to lean against it. She tried, but despite her strong compulsions to move forward she was still so spent. But she feared the others would need her, knowing now who led this particular force.

Don't worry Te'leis… I will come for you.

 

[Aless Frostborn]

Aless caught sound of two voices in the cave just after she left the entrance, which meant Lazule was awake—good and bad, as far as Aless was concerned. She and Te’leis both needed rest and it seemed neither were likely to get it for at least a few hours, even if this battle went well.

She motioned for Araxa to hold his ground as she moved down the hill. The area was constricted enough that he wouldn’t be able to maneuver and attack the way he could on an open field. She heard a huff of displeasure from her horse and smiled faintly. Loyal as a hound, she thought as she hit her full stride, a long lope that was still controlled enough that she wouldn’t slip or slide in the middle of night. Her night vision was very good, not perfect.

By the time she made it to the others, Aless stepped up to form an approximate rank, shielding Erën’hiel from the side opposite where Rekh and Aidathin were working. She almost slid into place beside him, bringing Woe down in a wicked bite to one of the creatures, shearing through a collarbone and down into the chest, angled to hit the spine. It rendered the arm that had tried to strike utterly useless and crippled its movement. She slipped her blade free, using the momentum to do the same to the opposite side with a brutal grace.

Aless wasn’t the strongest warrior, not by a long shot. She still had finer bone structure and a lean build, but she knew how to generate power with precision and speed. Every moment was efficient and almost seamless, powered by a relentless drive towards savagery. She always had the initiative to force her opponents back, and if they ever tried to take it from her, she punished them even more.

Aless out of battle was one thing. Aless in battle was a demon.

She barely checked herself to keep from losing her allies’ positions, relying on her peripheral vision to keep Erën and the others in view. She was at the edge, constantly adjusting her footing to accommodate fluid strikes.

She hated undead, not nauseated by rotting flesh or death, but the dark magic fueling them made her so angry that she just had to rip it apart, with a sword or hher hands being equally acceptable. The magic was a caress across her senses from a hand she regarded with an equal measure of rage and agony.

 

[Rekh KaHarut]

By the time that Aless had joined the fray, it was obvious to Rekh that against this paltry force of undead, it would be no contest for the hardened warriors and mages. But even if he were just getting warmed up, he saw it as the perfect opportunity to grow accustomed to the fighting styles of his new companions. Aidathin made good use of a polearm and Aless was downright brutal with her sword, yet still graceful.

There was but one thing that gave the Raaka pause in the fight, and it was that both Erën’hiel and Aidathin seemed distracted at several moments. Not enough to affect their ability to put these poor undead to rest, but often enough that the paladin felt the need to inquire.

"My friends, what is the matter? Is there another threat to be found here that I am not aware of? As satisfying as this is, we should deal with what troubles you." Rekh cut his way through several more, and at this rate he was very grateful for his wings. The sheer number of corpses would no doubt soon become a problem for attempts at mobility.

 

[Lazule]

...Zeng has sent his minions...

At this an instantaneous steadying of Lazule's expression. She stood in a clean and efficient and absolutely precise movement. She did not look at the fire as she reached her left hand toward it. An odd distortion of the firelight. A gathering of shimmering orange in her palm. Slowly did the Shiv forged from light manifest in her palm.

Lazule watched Te'leis stand and walk to the entrance of the cave. Zeng has sent another like him. Who is also like us, Te'leis said. Tragic. Always tragic. When those with the capacity for good fell, swelling the wicked ranks of beasts and monsters.

"A constant vigil must be maintained. Lest all that is humane perish in the night," Lazule said. "I am sorry that one of your kind has fallen."

Lazule turned and faced the fire and held her right hand over it then. That same distortion. A similar gathering of orange light, save that it extended now in two directions beneath her open palm. Again, a slow manifestation. The campfire was weak and meager, and as such her spells took greater time to prepare. And neither the Shiv nor the Javelin manifesting now would be as strong as the same forged from daylight.

But it did not matter.

There were monsters to slay.

The short Shiv in her left hand, the long Javelin in her right, Lazule turned on her heel and walked to the cave entrance. Out into that darkness. The strangeness of her lightforged weapons, glowing an intense orange but giving off scarce illumination to their surroundings. The dirt under her boots as she started down the hill. She could not yet see anything in the gloom of night but as she walked the distinct sounds of battle.

She picked up her pace. A brisk run.

And she spoke as she ran:

"Those idle allow evil to prosper. Righteousness lies solely in action. Holy even are the meek who stand defiant before the wicked. In victory or in death, I shall have no remorse."

And she ran toward the battle.

 

[Erën]

Te'leis watched as Lazule made way toward the battle. She appreciated her sensitivity, but she admired her tenacity and her ability to curtail her fatigue from before. More than this, the slayer’s magic was utterly unexpected, and would garner a newfound respect from even the hardest of their trio.

Light-bearer.

The elf on the other hand, had trouble. She did expend far more than she had intended with the imparting of her strength earlier, and now the draw of their precious stone was at its height. But she mustered the strength to follow, each step laboured and slow.

She could not sit idly by. She would not.



Erën held his ground, and relentlessly pummeled those unfortunate enough to approach him. Each sword moved fluently as he cut down each foe. But the dead encroached on him. Just when he decided it time to surrender ground, another appeared by his side.

Grace paired with savagery cut through their numbers, and Woe found its mark with asperity. Aless made short work of those encompassing beasts and pushed the line back. Erën followed up, and while she almost blindly hacked down those ahead of her, he noted her awareness. She was a formidable ally, and her prowess with a blade was akin to his own. But her rage was not unnoticed, and he appreciated the kindred resentment for these fiends.

On the other side, Aidathin maintained a wide berth, allowing room for the size of his weapon. He held Rekh’s side with an unwavering strength, the lance dancing through the night with his careful guidance.

There were few dead that would give them issue, but from time to time as more fell and the battle wore on, they seemed to gather strength…



By now he’d lost himself in the confusion and basked in it. He chuckled as his beasts mindlessly threw themselves at his enemies and lavished in the relief that came with each extinguished burden.

Fight on, yes!

He felt the strain assuage, and he directed this respite into those that remained, fueling their voracity, and giving them strength.

An excitement grew within him as he imagined his full-strength return, and with even only a few remaining minions he would then crush these pitiful fools. He clenched his fists and laughed aloud as a dark energy twisted itself around him. An aura of dark fire rose up about him, and his eyes burned red. He now reached out again, but this time he sought new prey.

While his understanding of the elves and their telepathy was vast - he had in fact once been one of them - his ability to infringe on the others would prove more difficult, if not impossible depending on their minds.

But he perceived the female…half-blood. The Avian. He attempted to invade, and to stir feelings of distrust, to agitate emotion, and all around confuse.

Successful or not, the attempts grew taxing, and instead as his undead force dwindled he again regained strength, and his light burned with renewed intensity as he readied himself for battle.

But before he could throw himself into the fray…

A new aura overtook him, a great darkness that quelled his evil light and bathed him in shadow. He exclaimed with a silent cry, and with the feeling of a knot around his throat he clenched at it and dropped to his knees.

The creatures continued, taken by this new power.

“Enough!”​

The presence filled his mind and reverberated through his body, and the great and terrible utterance echoed throughout the chasm of his soul, and he trembled.

“Your foolish game is at an end, and my minions wasted as I had foretold,” in his mind Zeng's voice was like that of a great beast, whose very breath rumbled like thunder, “you will return to me elf-blood. The time draws near…”



Erën’s foot planted hard. The other lifted, and another kick was delivered – hard enough that this one, more a skeleton than anything, descended into a knocking heap. Then he persisted, he leapt and whirled around his opponents, dismantling each one with a brutal assailment. Had they been living, the wounds he inflicted would have guaranteed tremendous pain, a cruelty he reserved for his most contemptuous villains.

Then, as if queued by Rekh's curiosity, a flash caught Erën’s eye. He slew another, and then regarded his feathered friend, “behold,” he exclaimed with a point with one sword. He pointed to who he knew was a “fell elf,” who was very much obscured to them but through the light of his magic was made known. Upon witnessing the display, a jarring strike came as a shock. Though he'd guarded it, this newest attacker was stronger.

Erën countered hard and was even stayed, but only for a moment. Then, amidst the fighting before he could look back, the light had vanished, and a dark cloud came forth.

He no longer felt the far-off presence. But the gnawing, hungry beasts persisted.

(image credit: hyun lee)