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Post by The Lost Traveler on Mar 14, 2015 22:23:03 GMT -5
As she charged, the sounds of thundering footsteps echoed her. On the other side of the hag, Julius did the same as her – charging in with the butt end of the crossbow. What-. She barely had time to think it before she spotted the glint on the ground. Then she shouted, “Julius!”
But it was too late. The knight had already gotten within striking distance and was rearing his crossbow back. The hag leaped to the side and revealed that a fire rune had been constructed beneath her – instantaneously.
She had never moved so fast whenever any of her other brothers-in-arms had been in danger as she did then. Julius had just finished his swing with the crossbow when the rune flared a vivid red beneath him. She tackled him, pushing him away from the rune and deeper into the opening. She landed on her stomach.
And her left leg landed on the rune.
As the rune exploded up in a haze of flame Mhalla screamed.
For a moment she thought her other eye had gone blind. The world had shifted into shimmers. But when it righted itself again she glanced down to her leg. The pain would not let her do otherwise. The fire had ate the hem of her robe to reveal the steel beneath – scorched and heated. She could feel it … she could … she had to get it off. Now. Her hands darted down to the legging only for her to rear them back with a snarl – fingers burnt. She brought Restoration magic to her fingertips, cooling them, when a thought stabbed into her. The hag. She jerked her head up and spotted the hag dart into the forest, scooping up the sack with the helm as she did. She shot a look at Julius who still seemed a bit surprised and concerned by it all. “Go! I can’t run till this is healed. She has the helm!”
With that she turned back to her leg and, with one motion, tore off the boot and legging with a grunt.
Her leg, tanned, corded and brown seconds ago, was now a red and puffy flesh, with a jagged imprint of steel branded onto her flesh.
Just looking at it made her dizzy, before Mhalla took a breath.
It’s just another scar.
With palms flaring with light she went to work restoring.
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Post by GuardsGhost on Mar 28, 2015 14:23:57 GMT -5
Julius had heard Mhalla's scream, but it was far too late for him to realize what she was screaming about. He moved to strike the wicked creature with his crossbow, and then his eyes widened as the crafty hag moved to the side and he saw the fire rune that had been left in its place. Oh Divine-!
He then was sent tumbling to the ground by Mhalla's tackle, eyes momentarily blinded by the intensity of the brightness of the flame runes explosion.
After he was able to right his vision and sense of direction, he looked over at his companion to ensure she was okay. He was in minor shock that she had just risked her life for him, though he really shouldn't have been. She's..an honorable person..now please let her be alright. He hadn't even noticed the hag running until Mhalla's shout, and he pulled away from where he had been going to help her and spotted the hag running. He scooped up his blade from Mhalla and started to charge after the hag. He suspected that the Vigilant was a better restoration mage than he ever could be, and that she would be able to handle herself until he returned. The man dived through the shrubbery, ignoring when a thin branch whacked his head lightly as he chased after her.
Mhalla's statement about the helmet had excited him. Could it really be this close? His mind was still attempting to wrap itself around the possibility that, at long last, his journey up North could nearly be at an end. All he had to do was punish this hag for her crimes. Thievery, yes. But more importantly to the man now, "You hurt my friend, hag! Where are you?!" He hissed at her as he pursued.
He could feel the familiar twitching in his hand that signified a kill was close at last.
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Post by The Lost Traveler on Apr 3, 2015 17:27:33 GMT -5
They killed her.
They killed her. They killed her. Those motherfucking sons of whores had killed her. Killed Roshel! She’ll kill them. She’ll kill them! She’ll burn them. She’ll -
“Burn!”
Martia’s hands, having been encased, bit by bit, with a swirling purple glow thrust out as she spun around. The space between her and her pursuer, the man, suddenly distorted as a vortex-sphere of purple light twirled into existence. As it stopped its spin in its place hovered a Flame Atronach, the creature’s hands blasting out flame as Martia darted into the forest foliage – out of sight.
Even in her haze of bloodlust, Matia knew, she remembered, Roshel’s final advice. She would not take the road. No. She had another planned path, one that would take her straight to Halivid herself, who, in turn, would pave the way for Martia's own revenge on them, on all the bastards of Skyrim – to watch their flesh be roasted as she feasted on them, screaming out in bliss to Namira her Lord.
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Post by GuardsGhost on Apr 12, 2015 22:44:37 GMT -5
((I did not see your post man, I'm so sorry))
He pursued the hag through the bushes, and saw her. He opened his mouth, shouting something at her that trailed off when she disappeared, replaced by a flame atronach. His mouth hung open for a few moments, and in those few moments of stunned silence, the atronach struck.
The silence was broken by a scream of pain as Julius was thrown back by the flame atronachs attack, landing hard on his back. His armor had been scorched black on the chestplate, and parts of his cloak were smouldering. He found it hard to breath, sucking in a breath of the cool forest air as he stared at the sky. 'Divines..is..this how it ends?' His thoughts were sluggish, and his mouth was dry.
The Knight, Julius Aventer, just stared up at the sky and waited for his death to arrive, unable to move. In his mind, he saw the face of a Breton lass, smiling sweetly at him as she dove into the cave, beckoning for him to follow. "I'm..coming Bee..don't worry...I'll be r-right..th-there..." He croaked out, the illusion fading as the atronach hovered above him, blocking out his view of the sky.
He managed to snort out a chuckle, shaking his head against the dirt. "Wasn't..supposed..t-to end like this...sorry...father..." His eyes closed, the lids sliding shut as he felt the fire burning above him.
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Post by The Lost Traveler on Apr 17, 2015 14:04:34 GMT -5
Light curled around Mhalla’s hands as she snapped them up, an audible snapping noise sounded as the light then descended and soaked into her charred flesh. Then she did it again. And again. The repetitious snapping forming a pattern as the light raised then lowered. Fast Healing. But not fast enough at the moment as the sounds of Julius’ and the hag’s footsteps disappeared.
Mhalla started to make some progress, the red receding from the skin, when she heard the scream and thump.
Something’s wrong.
Mhalla immediately got up to the feet only for the leg to buckle. “Gods!” She hissed. Panic made her do it, though she had barely enough mana in her system to pull it off. Power corded through her arms, straining and tiring her out in a moment, but then the light swept through her leg – closing the wound in a moment, but leaving her body drained.
But still energized enough to break out into a sprint.
She found Julius laying on the ground before a tree. Just prone and spread eagle. Before him was a flame Atronach, of all things (what’s with that bitch and fire?). It seemed to just be staring down at him at the moment, almost taunting the knight.
This will get it’s attention.
She grabbed a minor potion of Magicka from her belt, chug it and tossed the empty bottle to the ground. The next moment she charged a Sun Fire spell in hand and lobbed it. It smacked against the back of the Flame Atronarch and it whirled around to face her.
“Here! Come!”
It came.
The Atronach left the fallen knight on the ground and glided, flames eating up at the grass below. Flames eating up the air as they spurted in a continuous stream at her. Mhalla just had enough time to flex her hands up conjuring up a Lesser Ward. The flames smacked into the shimmering oval causing her to skid back in the dirt. The Atronarch then slid backwards, breaking off the flames, a charred-ash covered hand shimmering with fire. A Firebolt. She thought. Mhalla dropped the Lesser Ward (it wouldn’t hold up) and then jumped to the side.
The Firebolt slammed into the tree, igniting several branches on fire.
Then things went to Oblivion.
It started with the hum of bees.
Like a hiss of a heating kettle, forgotten over the fire, that grew and grew in pitch and power till it was left screaming at all who could hear. By the tree a wooden figure formed, wooden bark cloaked in a lush green light with bees swarming through and in it. Mhalla did not wait to see the Spriggan screech at the Atronach instead she ran towards Julius, grabbed him beneath his armpits and heaved him to his feet. “Stop being a lump and move!”
Once he was on his feet she started running, but she didn’t get far.
The Spriggan ducked under a jet of flame, spotted Mhalla trying to book it and let out another screech … at her this time.
From its outstretched hands a swarm of bees buzzed towards her, clouding her space in a moment. Only her robe and steel armor prevented them from striking her skin, but still Mhalla waved her arms about like a banshee, and then started casting Sun Fire – lighting them up in a glow and singing them back. She made just enough of a gap to slip out, the agitated hornets hummed behind her.
“Let’s go!”
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Post by GuardsGhost on Apr 26, 2015 11:26:18 GMT -5
Julius had accepted death. At least he thought he had. He couldn't move anything on his person at first, he just felt frozen in place as the atronacht began casting the spell that would end his life. And then, Mhalla was there, shouting and distracting it. With a strength she shouldn't have possessed, but he was glad she did, she helped heave him to his feet.
Given this second chance, his body's instincts kicked in. His blood began to pump through his veins, he could hear it pounding in his forehead even. The tell-tale rush of adrenaline pushing his worn body to the limit as he steadied himself on his feet, and began to ran after her. He ducked under the Bee's that were buzzing towards Mhalla, allowing her to burn them with her sun fire spell. 'Spriggans..? Ah Nine..I'm useless at the moment..'
And that. That useless feeling, that's what pushed him over the edge. He growled, attempting to grab Mhalla away from the Bee's as she went out that gap, "Going!" He then began to run. Properly. He refused to allow Mhalla's risk to be for nothing. To end with his or her death. They had things they still needed to accomplish, and for either of them to die here would be a tragedy that would never be heard by anyone. An ignoble death in a ditch due to some bee's.
'Not..happening..'
He dived over a fallen log, hitting the ground on the other side with an oof. He didn't know where they were running to, and he slowed his pace to allow Mhalla to take the lead before starting to run once more.
'Suppose it doesn't matter so long as we get away from those two things..let them fight it out..'
He shook his head, muttering mostly to himself, but loud enough for Mhalla to hear, "I'm going to kill that Hag when I find her again."
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Post by The Lost Traveler on Apr 30, 2015 23:57:43 GMT -5
Their movement slowed. It slowed ever since Aventer took a dive over a log and then slowed down so Mhalla could take the lead, rushing forward. Despite the burn in her leg, the forestry all around her blurred into smears of green until the underbrush cleared … cleared back into the open road. On the road, off of it, and on again – a cycle of time that took moments but felt like a century.
Aventer came in behind her then slowed to a stop as well. He shook some thought out of his head, probably about the two duking elementals they left behind them, then muttered, “I'm going to kill that Hag when I find her again.” Soft, but not soft enough.
Now you want to fight? “Not if I kill her first. And it may not be too late, I can still feel her through the Clairvoyance. Though its dimmer now than before – the spell will wear off in time. We best hurry.”
She didn’t wait for him to speak, turning around to face the open road.
How she wished she had Rolinth right now.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
“Roshel…”
Martia had screamed the name so often the last hour that her voice came out as nothing but a sore wheeze. Lines coursed down her cheeks where tears had fallen moments before, but none came out now. She stopped, leaned her head against a tree trunk and heaved. Heaved, because no more tears would come.
Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Maybe it was just the shock, but at that moment Martia could of sworn that a chill ran down her spine. But the next moment that unnerving feeling was replaced by a flash of fire. “What are – ” She snarled, whirling around with flickers of flames darting between her fingers.
But then they died.
“Roshel!” Her voice came back.
Standing across from her, Roshel stood like the grave. Pale, shadowed and shivering. She did not mirror Martia’s ecstatic smile, but then again, she never did. She could still see the jagged line on Roshel’s neck, severing deep into her skin. Martia didn’t know how she survived that, but –
“Hold on!” She said, grabbing Roshel’s shoulders. “We’ll get – “
Then blood spurted from her mouth.
Martia glanced down to the dagger in her jugular.
Martia glanced up to the still face of Roshel. The face that hadn’t changed through it all.
“W…wh…why?”
Martia slumped, slid and fell down. A pool trickling out of her in moments. Still. Still she heard.
“Because.” Roshel said, voice creaking, once the wound stitched up on its own. “That was the third.”
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