Fable - Ask Tides of Blood

[Skad]

Skad dug her heels into the side of the boar upon Kol’s call, there was no hesitation to do it for the woman believed through the howling maelstrom that the sorcerer knew the way. He was granted knowledge beyond mortal comprehension, held sight beyond sight and Kin-Slayer did not doubt him for a moment, even if her own solitary eye could only see the swirling blizzard before them.

There was a blur, a flash of bristles which were soon followed by an unsightly squeal. It was a fleeing boar, presumably the very same one that chieftain and his wife had ridden out on.

It had been spooked.

Finally through the blinding white came the darkened mouth of a cave, the sorcerer's call was true but there had never been any doubt.

The beast beneath the pair began to slow despite Skad's urgings, a series of alarming snorts and deep bellows leaving its snout and maw. It could sense something that they could not, or at least one of them could not and there was no sense in driving it forward only to have it buck them off out of terror.

Kin-Slayer unmounted the beast and hoped that it would at least stay where it was left, lest they were destined to walk back to the village.

“There's nowhere left for them to go,” Skad commented as she strode into the dark, dank of the cavern, ever-fearless, “but I think this cave holds more than two cowards.”

 

[Kol]

Kol slipped from the mount a second after Skad.

As they drew nearer to the cave the whispers in his head seemed to grow louder, as though every one of the Dark God clamored to speak all at once. Then, just as quickly as they had gotten loud all of them went silent. Not completely, never completely, but quiet enough that Kol had to strain to hear them over the storm.

"You are right." Kol said quietly. Though he did not know what.

For a moment the Sorcerer closed his eyes, trying to listen to the Dark Gods whose words were now little more than a hushed whisper. It was difficult to pick them out, difficult to choose which ones. Yet he caught some of the words.

Draugr. Life without life. Forgotten. Cursed.​

Those words resounded over and over. "A tomb."

He said wearily. Slowly stepping forward into the cavern. His hand raised, the knife appearing within his free palm. The rune blade dug into his wrist, creating another scar. Blood pooled, and then suddenly wisped away.

A dark red light appeared within his palm, casting a pale glow over the dark of the cavern.

"Listen for the dead." Kol told Skad as he stepped forward.

 

[Skad]

With a creeping gait Skad retrieved her axe from its holster and followed behind the Sorcerer, the red light from his palm the only source of vision granted to them as they descended through the cave. No, not a cave.

A catacomb.

There was a sense of trepidation beneath the blonde's skin, not outright fear but of warranted caution. She had never herself witnessed the dead risen, only heard them in tales passed down to wide-eyed children around communal flames. Cursed men and women who clung onto the realm of the living with hands of bone and withered hearts of lamentation and rage. She still remembered the grisly fables, her own tribe's chief weaving warnings about how the dead would devour the flesh of the living, enlisting them into their own ranks.

Her twin Hella did not sleep for weeks after such tales.

Yet soon the evidence was upon them as they edged by empty upright tombs carved into the walls, the trailing spider's webs evidence of a recent disturbance. There could be no doubt that their quarry had recklessly fled into this place and in the process awoken its residents.

Craven fools.

As they rounded a bend in the tomb she froze as another vertical tomb stood before them upon the wall opposite. This one was still occupied.

The corpse was not wholly skeletal as word of mouth had spoken but instead shrivelled, the unrelenting cold of the lands not allowing the flesh to completely rot away. Its clothes, leathers and furs not too dissimilar to their own had met with a similar fate and revealed the wound that had brought death upon the figure. Disembowelment.

It was still armed with a broadsword at the corpse's hip and its arms were crossed over its chest in what was likely the original burial position.

Did it move just then? Skad wasn't entirely sure if it was just an illusion in the low red light or if it was a trick of the mind. She looked to Kol for their next move, her axe now gripped in both hands, ready to strike if needed.

 

[Kol]

Kol had never dabbled in the arts of necromancy.

Some of the Dark gods whispered about raising the dead, calling on the tides of the afterlife and carrying souls from the grave. His own abominations came from twisting life, breaking and reforming the living into something more dutiful.

Bringing the dead back had always seemed more...paltry in comparison.

Staring at the Draugr ahead of them Kol couldn't help but scowl slightly. His fingers tightened upon the rune knife in his hand. He glanced at Skad for a moment, meeting her eyes and shaking his head ever so slightly as the whispers in the back of his mind continued. "They speak of ancestors."

He did not explain who they were. Knowing his companion would already understand.

Kol took a step forward, moving towards the corpse.

It was apparently enough. The creature seemed to flicker for one brief moment, a soft blue glow setting into it's eyeless skull as it's hand suddenly jutted out and grasped at Kol's throat. Like a viper it reached his flesh, grasping and tearing at him.

"OUT!"​

It screamed. Hand crushing Kol’s throat.

"OUT! OUT! OUT!"​

 

[Skad]

Skad was content to leave the dead undisturbed but they did not return that sentiment.

She stepped back instinctually upon the flash of movement, flinching at the sudden speed at which the creature's hand shot out. The scream echoed throughout her skull, sapping all warmth that sat between her ears and for a moment the Nordwiir froze.

A few seconds passed before she regained her senses.

Still clutching her axe Skad took a quick double step forward, her double-handed grip upon the axe bringing forth a mighty swing that plunged the blade straight into the screeching maw of the ghoul. The strike made a peculiar sound, very much unlike the impact upon living flesh. It was dry and bloodless, as made evident when its face crumbled around the wound, leaving a crater of dust and bone.

It seemed to be enough, as the hand around Kol's throat relaxed yet still remained in place.

“Fuck!” Skad exclaimed with a renewed sense of adrenaline coursing through her veins, “Do you think the Chief knows about this tomb upon his doorstep?”

Perhaps a foolish question. Perhaps not. If they had unknowingly stumbled into this place it was very likely that they would not have made it far. However, if their folly knew about the ancient catacombs, perhaps he was using it against those who might have pursued them.

They would find out either way.

 

[Kol]

"The ancestors protect." Kol said as he pulled the mangled hand from his throat and inspected the desiccated palm. Lips thinned for a moment as he came to understand what the Dark Gods had been whispering about, what they had been trying to tell him.

Their words were so often unclear. So uncompromising. They hinted. They gave bits and pieces, but rarely ever did they offer solid footing. A life time of their words and he had managed to understand a little, and yet it had not been enough on this day. His hand seized at the air, the flicker of black specks appearing as his Rune Knife formed within his palm.

They had been lead into a trap. "The chief knew."

Whispers echoed not just through his mind, but across the expanses of the cave now. It was those same words that the now dead Draugr had spoken. That same angry tone reaching through the entirety of the tomb. It commanded them. Ordered them.

"Out."​

Kol spat on the ground, then stepped forward.

"We show the undead that even they can suffer." He glanced towards Skad, then continued on ahead through the winding tomb. They passed by more empty tombs and broken spiderwebs until the narrow hall opened up into a great cavern.

Light spilled from blue flickering torches, and cast illumination on the gathered horde before them.

Draugr, such as Skad had ended already. A dozen or perhaps more. Yet among them were two others, each one with armor of fine gold and helmets depicting a bear and a boar. They slowly turned towards the intruders, their eyeless gaze falling upon the Nordwiir.

One razed it's hand.

"OUT!"​

The shout was marked with a piercing wave of frost that burst from the air and shot towards the two intruders.

 

[Skad]

They weren't welcome.

But that had never stopped them before.

Skad nodded to the blood sorcerer as they pressed deeper into the tomb, her axe had tasted undead flesh and its thirst was not yet sated. Each recently disturbed resting place added a number to the growing horde that the pair would no doubt have to face. The woman didn't like it. She would have preferred to cut them down one-by-one as they funnelled through the hall because that would have implied that they were mindless creatures.

If they were more than that they could organise, perhaps even hold notions of strategy.

The tunnel eventually opened up and it was there that they were waiting, bathed in the flicker of unnatural blue torchlight. Skad cast her single eye over the room, she sought exits and entrance to the cavern, places where ambushes were possible and places where cowards could hide. It was a force of habit before any skirmish.

As she finally looked to survey their enemy, catching glints of gold in her limited vision there was a shout.

Instinctually, Skad moved to brace the mysterious blast of frost that surged towards them, another habit developed in known no fear of death in battle. It pushed her back but not off her feet, the sharpness of the force tearing fragments of leather and fur from her arms and hands. Where it did touch flesh it burned, a sensation comparable with frost burn.

She paid little heed to that, however, not deterred by the frozen sorcery held by the undead. No, instead the woman charged forward with an almighty roar, making herself an immediate target for the dozen before her and in doing so attempted to pull focus for Kol to do his more intricate work.

The first swing into the melee was another two-handed downward blow that angled into one of the creature's neck, almost decapitating it at an angle. After that first strike she immediately let go of her weapon, switching to the knife at her side and with a second shout she shoulder barged straight into a pair of the undead.

 

[Kol]

Kol banked to the left as the odd wave of frost flickered through the air. It struck Skad as she braced herself, the wave of frost running over her flesh and tearing away at her leathers. He scowled for a moment, looking up at the altar before them.

A quiet curse escaped him as the woman darted forward.

Skad had always been the first into the fray and the last to leave it. Yet here there was a different sort of danger.

There were other Sorcerers in the Lost Isles of course, men and women both blessed by the Dark Gods to use magic. Kol had encountered them from time to time, and on each occasion had found them to be greater than the brutes that made up most chiefs.

The Draugr were not different.

As Skad bounded forward into the roiling mass of ancient dead the Draugr in golden armor shifted it's stance as the Nordwiir woman barreled into it. There was a thunk as Skad struck the creature, and the hollow sound of ancient bones standing up to the assault.

A strange sort of growl echoed from the Draugr's throat, it's jaw unhinging, and then a burst of that same cold roiled from within it's chest.

Kol let out a curse, his knife digging into his thigh. Blood spurted over his palm, drawing away into the air almost instantly. Skad would feel a sheen over her flesh, a slight shimmer that erupted over her skin and acted as a shield.

Other Draugr suddenly turned back towards the Nordwiir woman, their blades flickering forward to stab into her.

 

[Skad]

There was a thick clang as the golden ghoul withstood her charge, the knife in her hand expertly seeking the mummified flesh that sat beneath joints in the armour. Her blade thirsted for crimson but instead drank on upon the dust and decay of the larger boar-plated Draugr.

Another lash of frost screamed forth from the maw of the creature which whipped above Skad's head as the one-eyed woman ducked into the armour of her adversary.

The melee soon devolved into chaos as the Nordwiir's charge attracted the rest of the draugr, just as intended. They would soon regret leaving the blood sorcerer unburdened. Regardless of their strategy Skad remained wild, her knife twisting and ripping through decrepit flesh and her limbs flailing to bash the undead closing in all around her.

The first blade sunk into her flesh with a violent gasp, and then a second and a third. A ward upon her body deflected some of the blows, driving rusted swords away from more vital flesh. Her blood gift may have evaded death but it did not protect against decapitation and dismemberment. Lost limbs would not return and thus some measure of protection was required.

Soon her blood began to flow, each new wound from the clamber of corpses gifting Kol with a greater font of power in blessed iron and salt. It spilt forth like fire and through the gritted teeth of pain the woman smirked, teeth stained pink by the iron in her mouth.

The feeling was sacred.

When Skad embraced her gift it was akin to reaching out to touch upon the flesh of their Dark Gods. A mere fingertip away from true divinity, as close as a mere mortal, a servant like her could get.

In the maelstrom of steel and crimson she brandished rapid prayers of a guttural, bloodied tongue.

 

[Kol]

The draugr fell upon Skad like a tide of water. They crashed upon her with blades, axes, and bludgeons. Blood began to spill over her flesh as they cut into her, the blessings she had been granted from the Dark Gods burning brightly within her.

Kol could see it.

The touch of a God, the gift that she's been given.

He had seen it many times over the years, had witnessed what it could do. It was that familiarity that let him do his own magic, that allowed him the path to their victory. As Skad became the fury within the center of the undead, as she bit back and cut into her foe, the blood that spilled over her flesh boiled. Magic took hold. A spell that only she could survive.

She would feel pain. An aching hurt as the slick crimson across her skin suddenly burst outwards. The sound of her prayers echoed out as the blood exploded outward from her and cast over the raging Draugr.

Bellowing screams echoed out from the undead creatures as the holy crimson cast over their features. They stumbled back, their flesh melting and their bones turning to ash as they tumbled to the floor.

Each time Skad moved more of her blood cast out at the undead, sealing their fate along with the swipes of her axe until only the bear and the boar stood.

 

[Skad]

It was like rebirth.

From the womb of the Dark Gods she emerged, painted head-to-toe in newly blessed crimson, her body completely desecrated by a vicious anthology of wounds, each one as uniquely fatal as the last. Her prayers were coughed and gurgled, blood mingling with saliva and spat into the melee as her life force began to boil.

Skad screamed in chosen agony as it exploded around her, sanctified blood erupting from her slick skin and open wounds. The sheen over her flesh granted by the blood sorcerer protected the warrior from the same fate as the undead who screeched and stumbled when drenched by the molten crimson. The more space they gave her, the more she thrashed. Fight back once more with her knife still in hand.

Blood pissed and sprayed with each lash of her limbs, despatching more and more of the creatures as they dissolved and crumbled into dust. The gilded beasts, however, were sheltered from Skad and Kol's joint assault, their fine armour shielding their decrepit and ancient flesh from burning blood.

There was little time to ruminate, and the Nordwiir woman charged, skinning knife still in hand.

However, the pair seemed to hold more sentience than their subordinates and in the realisation that their enemy was seemingly undying levelled twin shouts upon the charging blonde. A powerful wave of frost striking the woman in the chest and knocking her clean off her feet and onto her back with a meaty thud.

Their twin attentions turned to the blood sorcerer.

 

[Kol]

The blade flipped around in his hand.

For a few seconds there was a stand off, the two ancient ghouls staring at him as though they were preparing rebuke whatever he did. The Sorcerer only smiled, gazing at the creatures. Then suddenly one of them opened it's maw.

The air seemed to burst around him, and that same powerful wave that had struck Skad rushed out towards him. Kol scrambled, his finger raising and twisting upwards. Specks of blood flew through the air, and the wave rushing towards him suddenly seemed to explode outward into nothingness.

Around them the cavern shook, and then the Sorcerer rushed forward.

The Golden armored ghoul lashed out, it's blade flickering faster than any man could have swung towards Kol.

It slashed down, cutting through the Sorcerer's coat and slicing at his flesh. Blood, black as the night, sprayed out over the Draugr's blade. It hissed, but not like acid, not eating through the blade. Instead it seemed almost alive, crawling up towards the Draugr's palm.

"Get up!" Kol shouted at Skad as the golden clad Draugr swung it's axe towards his skull.

He ducked down, the blade swiping just above the tails of his hair.

The rune knife flicked forward, cutting through undead flesh and severing the Golden Clad Draugr's hand from his wrist.

 

[Skad]

Her tribute in the town had been accepted and in turn, her blood had been blessed once more. However, the Dark Gods could be fickle and the one-eyed woman's gift was not predictable in duration.

The back of Skad's head cracked against the chamber's floor, plunging the one-eyed woman into darkened bowels of Refsingar for but a moment. She returned to consciousness a second later, feeling the power of her gift draining from her veins as the array of fatal wounds began to knit themselves closed, leaving a fresh array of jagged scars across already disfigured flesh.

Kol's voice pierced through the fresh fog in her mind, urgency returning to the woman as she staggered back to her feet just as the blood sorcerer severed one of the undead's hands.

There was no time for the woman to retrieve her axe, so in fearless adrenaline-fuelled devotion Skad and her skinning knife charged back into the fray, both of the golden-clad Draugr now distracted by the blood sorcerer.

She went for the still two-handed boar, ramming into a clinch with the creature and forcing the creature to grapple instead of being able to swing a weapon. It was still far stronger than her, and a gauntlet-clad hand darted out to grab the woman's neck, simultaneously squeezing her throat and pushing her downwards onto her knees.

In retaliation, as she struggled to stay on her feet Skad's knife shot upwards, piercing through exposed undead flesh of the neck and upwards into the mouth of the beast.

 

[Kol]

The creature swung it's axe once more, swiping across his chest and cutting into his flesh. A grimace flickered over his features as he took half a step back, the blood on his chest a normal deep crimson.

For a brief moment he looked down, but the Draugr did not allow him the time. It rushed at him, it's maw opening just as Skad finally stood and engaged it's twin. The two monsters were utterly relentless, undeath driving them forward and forward.

As Skad's blade pierced through the Boards neck and into it's brain the creature seemed to freeze for a moment, and then suddenly drew back it's fist to slam into the woman's face.

Kol didn't have time to look, his own foe was upon him like a raging bear. It flung it's axe wildly, cutting left, then right, then up. Each time the Sorcerer was forced further and further back, ducking and weaving until he felt cold stone behind him.

Fingers flickered over his rune knife.

Suddenly the black mass that had all but enveloped the Draugr's arm seemed to seize and lash out. All at once it grasped at the creatures throat, digging in and wrenching into it's flesh. It tore at the monsters inside's a dusty screech of pain echoing from it's lips.

Then suddenly it lurched as the ooze ripped it's flesh and tore off it's head in one quick motion, the Draugr falling to the floor a second later. "Rip it's head off!"

Kol called to Skad, his own voice ragged.

 

[Skad]

Skad stabbed the zombie in the face, bro.