Private Tales The Sandstorm

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Alden looks at the Abtati after Kiia exits the room, and gives a shrug, chuckling with a slight nervousness. "I'm...gonna go check on her. Yea?" He was burning inside. Slavers. He figured so, and he'd have fun cutting them down when they found them, but for now, he wanted to check on Kiia.

She would see Alden make his way out of the hut to stand by the door, leaning on the wall. He wanted to kill the slaver that was in that building, sure. But it was not his people that were wronged, so he left that up to the abtati. He himself stands there, waiting for Kiia to return. While waiting, he idly scrapes a match on the building to light it, before holding it up to a cigarette of some sort, and then placing the cigarette between his teeth. he drops the match, crushing that flame with his boot. When Kiia returns, he gives her a reassuring smile. "You alright lass? Don't ye worry, we'll wipe'em out."

Kiia Sidra
 
The men left her alone with the slaver. His face was still tortured and terrified from whatever Aldenaxk had done to him, and a cold sweat covered him head to toe. He was shivering in spite of the great heat of the desert.

"P-please," he whimpered, "Don't let him come back. I'll do anything you ask, just keep him away from me."

Kiia was apparently not as frightening to him as the horned tiefling. It made sense, she had worked hard to cultivate a warm and calming appearance, but her eyes didn't shimmer anymore. They were cold and flat, and when she took the man's hand in hers it was not with sympathy. "You will never see him again."

She pulled on the lifeforce that remained in him. As usual, his body tensed and shuddered, and he drew in tight gasping breaths and made pitiful strangling noises as his physical self began to wither. His skin grew sallow and brittle, his eyes cloudy and shrunken as his hair began to gray from the roots out. It was painful, terrifying, and well deserved.

She left him as a husk, shaking herself off as she felt the energy trickle through her. He had been injured but still carried quite a bit of vivaciousness within him. He would likely have lived a long and healthy life had he been allowed to recover, but now his life would be put to better use by aiding those he had wronged.

She left the hut to rejoin the group.
"You alright lass? Don't ye worry, we'll wipe'em out."

"I am alright, thank you," she said, missing the silkiness from her usual voice as she looked around the half-buried town. "I wish we could stay and help these people first, but I worry that whoever sent this attack will notice when they don't return. I am afraid we will need to help when we get back."

The geomancer stepped forward. "Priestess, I will stay back and help to move the sands, and we will gather the wounded so that you can assist upon your return, this I promise."

Kiia nodded, "[Thank you,]" she said back to him. Then to Alden and the taller abtati she echoed Alden: "Let's wipe them out."
 
Alden stands by silently while Kiia talks about healing the wounded with her brethren. When she turns to him again, Alden gives her a wink. More reassuring nature than flirtacious. The poor man can't flirt to save his damn life, even though he tries. Hard as he can. "I'll help how I can when we get back. But I'm afraid it'll just be bandage wrappin and splint applyin. I can heal, but I ain't sure the populace wants me using blood magic on them. Not to mention, I only have so much blood. I'm sure we'll come across a whole slew of stolen shite in their base. It'll likely pay for town repairs." He states, trying to uplift her mood, if even only slightly. He allows her to lead the way, since he doesn't know where to go.

He happily follows along behind her, an infernal monster, more like a puppy in nature, ready to cut down some slavers. "So...anything else you want to talk about along the way? Surely ye must have questions about well....everything. Aye?"

Kiia Sidra
 
  • Yay
Reactions: Kiia Sidra
They set off across the deep sand. The town's walls had been left mostly intact, but they appeared quite a bit shorter beneath the blanket of new grit. With the storm gone, the sun once again beat mercilessly upon them, and there was now an utter lack of wind to stave off the heat.

"Thank you, Aldenaxk," she said, giving him a tired but relieved smile. "While I am sure your magic would be very useful, I have to agree that the methods might make some a little uneasy." The smile stayed on her face. She knew, better than most, how changeable the masses could be. Some spiritual leaders referred to their followers as a "flock," and she had always found it to be a very accurate description. Most people just wanted someone to tell them that everything would be alright, and they would go to great lengths to preserve that illusion.

"So...anything else you want to talk about along the way? Surely ye must have questions about well....everything. Aye?"

"Actually yes," she replied, keeping a steady pace. "I have met one or two tieflings before, believe it or not, but none that used blood magic of any sort. It is a very rare art, so naturally I am curious as to how you have become so skilled."

With her dark hair, skin, and heavy lashes, Kiia was well adapted for the sun and quite used to the heat. She wondered how he, a foreigner, was holding up under Amol Kalit's unrelenting gaze.
 
"Ah...When I was a lad, I was brought on as a cabin boy by a pirate huntin crew. Privateers. You know the sort. Picked it up from an old man on the crew. Had a tome. He himself never used blood magic...but he gave it to me, said it was the most useful kind of magic to have due to my bloodline. You see, all the spells in blood magic have a price. The more worth your blood has, the less you have to use in order to cast a spell. That is the case with me. Course, you've already experienced it, the raw power in my blood. You're free to ask what you please about blood magic, I'll even loan you the tome since I've memorized it all."

He suddenly looks very serious. "And I'll answer what questions you have about my relatives, but only the ones I think won't destroy the mortal mind. I'm immune to it since his blood runs through me. But you, you are not. You saw him, when you used the blood. That's all you ever need to see, or know. It's a matter the mortal mind cannot handle. To touch upon it is to touch madness itself."

Kiia Sidra
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: Kiia Sidra
Aledenxk's warnings were grave, and after a moment's consideration Kiia took them seriously. He, after all, would know more than anyone the perils of his own ancestry and power. Her natural curiosity desired to pry into these secrets, and her pride wished to shrug off his warnings as being meant for "lesser minds." But she was not a fool, she remembered the sickness she'd felt when only a fraction of his blood had touched her spirit. Some things were best left unknown.

"And what is it about your blood that makes it so valuable?" A bold question, she knew, and direct. "I am a priestess, and know more stories about gods and devils than most. To touch upon their realms is a rare and terrible thing. You say 'his blood.' I wonder, can you tell me who, or what, 'he' is?"

The tiefling beside her grew stranger and more interesting by the minute. Was she walking side by side with a vessel for the divine? She glanced behind them. His feet made tracks in the sand, same as hers. At the very least, he was real.

A faint, dark shimmer in the distance indicated the rocky rise they sought. They would reach it within an hour or two.
 
"Do you know of the elder gods, Kiia? Or infernal tieflings, those who are related to infernal gods and demons. Their blood has extreme worth as well. All elder tieflings are related to an elder god of some sort, therefore, though it may not be a god recognized by all religions, the blood of a godly being flows through my veins."

When she asks who it is, he takes in a breath, then says a name. She'd feel a sharp pain in her head, as if her mind heard what he said. She definitely heard it, but her brain could not pronounce it, nor comprehend it's pronunciation. Even worse, she can already feel her mind pushing it away, like how one's mind forgets a dream after waking up, a protective mechanism to defend the brain from things it was not meant to hear.

"You didn't hear it did you? Most cannot on the first try. I can say it a few times more so you get used to it, though it won't be a pleasant experience. Either way, a relation to an elder god is like being related to a god of some sort. I'm not sure how it works, but I suppose in the eyes of magic, the blood of a god is kind of valuable. I have to be careful around vampires. I smell like a delicious cocktail to them, and what my blood does when a vampire drinks it? Pray for mercy."

Kiia Sidra
 
Kiia recoiled, feeling as though a very sharp and very hot pin had been pushed through her temple. "Ah... I... I don't know," she answered. She thought she had heard something, but now she couldn't remember what it was. A moment later, she couldn't say for sure that anything had been said at all.

"No, no, that's quite alright. It appears your ancestor does not want their name heard, and I am not one to defy deities."

The rest of his explanation had certainly interested her, though. Claiming relation to a god, or demon, was no small thing. Men had built empires with similar claims but it seemed like, among the Tieflings, such a thing was commonplace? Or, at the very least, well known.

"You have quite a blessing, Aldenaxk. Though I wonder if you see it that way?" her eyes crinkled coyly. She, of all people, recognized that everything had costs.

The rocky outcroppings were clear now, and Kiia turned her finger in the air to whip up a small swirl of dust and sand. It wasn't much, and it would not hide them completely. It would obscure their outlines from any far-seeing scouts up ahead, but they would likely be noticed sooner or later.