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  #46  
Old Oct 15th, 2020, 06:03 PM
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Zephyr
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Maybe he was in over his head? Zephyr hadn’t actually ever been in a fight before-- nothing like this. He had always been protected by others, coddled away in secret, under earth and behind doors. That had been his life as far back as he could remember. Always alone. Always isolated. Guarded.

Not now, though. Zephyr dared to glance around the corner and watch the unfolding battle. It was absolute chaos. There was no order to the fray, just senseless struggle. The veil between life and death was so thin here, it could be broken with a whispered breath. It was as horrible as it was inspiring.

--Until bodies began to drop from the sky.

"Uh-oh…" Zephyr’s eyes followed a man drop from his mighty, feathered steed. The graceful woman who had raced beside him moments ago also fell. Slowly, he spotted, but fall they did. Zephyr dashed around the corner toward the fallen rider, first slinging a spell at the still-living Wyvern. The Guiding Bolt, miss 10divine light shot sideways and, in a moment of annoyance, realized that running and casting was a lot harder than he’d imagined it being.

As he ran, he pulled a darkness from an unseen void and slung it toward the scaly beast. Eldritch Blast, 21 hit, 9 miss, 7 points of damage] this time due to his distraction as he pulled to a stop. The brunette beauty had slapped the rider awake. It had taken Zephyr by complete surprise, and yet, also a bubbling sense of amusement.

He shook himself free of his distracted trance, realizing he was now out in the open. Yep. He was definitely in over his head this time.


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  #47  
Old Oct 16th, 2020, 11:38 AM
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'Who?' Nae’laa thought as she saw a streak of flame arc into the sky. She didn’t see what happened at the end of it, but she didn’t need to, she already knew as surely as she knew anything. She strained around the corner to try to get a glimpse at the person who cast it, to no avail.

She thought to tiptoe forward when a voice caught her attention, sending a chill down her spine. It wasn’t the voice, which she didn’t recognize, it was the name that it addressed - her.

The Oracle?! the voice said and her own surprise mirrored his. No one had called her that since she left The Black City - and even then it had been a name thrust upon her by the one who taught her, rather than one she clung to herself. She didn’t get long to think on it before he dashed across the alley, but the experience left her stunned. Movement drew her attention back to the square as the once giant gnoll returned to an average size. He was wounded though, and surely wouldn’t last another attack.

For half a heartbeat, she worried about moving forward towards the man who had recognized her, yet the thought was batted away before she had time to really contemplate it. She sprinted forward until she arrived at the side of the creature. She reached down and touched him, but before she moved, she turned towards the woman hiding behind the palm tree. The one who had cast the fireball with a mastery that she hadn’t seen exhibited by anyone other than herself and her master. The gaze lasted perhaps too long in such a situation and then she was gone, along with the gnoll, leaving behind a thunderous snap that resonated through the city and a shockwave that shook the palm and nearby home.

Instantaneously, she gracefully appeared within the home behind two of the other combatants, undoubtable surprising the poor woman next where the gnoll plopped unceremoniously to the floor. Nae’laa flinched noticeably as he landed. She’d taken others along before, but they’d all been conscious and landed reappeared somewhat wobbly, but still on their feet. She couldn’t help but feel bad about the force with which he had landed. "Oops," she said softly as she shrugged slightly at the woman.

Her attention turned to the man by the door, the one who had recognized her earlier.

"Who are you? Where did you hear that name?" she asked accusatorily, fighting the intense urge to light something on fire in the search for answers.


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Last edited by DaysUntold; Oct 16th, 2020 at 11:39 AM.
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  #48  
Old Oct 17th, 2020, 12:25 AM
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Myra
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Confidence invigorates Myra following the successful deployment of her spells. Though as her former mentor would tell her often, there is no better teacher than experience.

As quickly as confidence flowed into her, dread takes its place as she watches, almost in slow motion, as the main beast of her magical wrath rapidly takes to the skies towards her. Damn. I should’ve stayed in the alley. As the beast nears, it unleashes a thick poisonous rain down upon her, causing her to cry out in pain, as she felt the deep burn throughout her body..

Mostly able to shield her eyes, and use her cloak and wrappings to help shield her most vital organs, she begins to stumble back towards the alley where she came from, calling her shadowy paw to follow behind her and protect her from any foes. Seeing the bright haired man dark from the alley towards the now falling! woman, she decides to regroup for a moment before deciding what dangerously curious thing she can help with next.

Arriving in the alley she looks at the damage caused by the painful rain, reaching out to Bastet hoping to neutralize the burning in her body. A shadowy blue essence begins to radiate around her body, as she is able to silence some of the pain she is feeling. I think I liked it better when the beasts didn’t notice me.

MechanicsLuckly she makes her con save, and decides to get the hell out of dodge. Her cats paw spiritual weapon follows her as far as it can, and as she gets to the alley she will cast cure wounds, 1st level, for 7hp (putting her at 22hp).
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  #49  
Old Oct 17th, 2020, 06:56 AM
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Cerean Market, Valera
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Nae’laa and the unconscious Batoyangi appear in the corner of the small restaurant, even as the clap of thunder from outside shakes the walls and bursts the thin glass windows. Small shards of glass rain down onto the worn wooden floor. An earthenware cup falls from a hook on the wall and smashes, chunks of fire-hardened clay sliding under one of the tables.

The younger of the two women in the restaurant, a pretty brown-haired girl of about twenty years, shrieks in alarm. Her eyes are still wide with shock as they flit from Asbjorn to Renfield to Nae’laa.

The other woman, a middle-aged stout one with strong arms and a coarse apron looks at the collection of fighters and injured that have burst upon their small establishment. Her gaze goes to the slumped form of Bato, leaning against the back wall. She plops her tray down on a nearby table and goes to him, wiping her hands on her apron and snatching up several crumpled cloth napkins as she moves.

"Mother! No..." The younger woman lifts her hand toward her mother as though she will move to stop her, but she actually backs up a step.

Shaking her head in annoyance, the mature restauranteur shushes her. "Quiet down, you silly girl. You saw what he did. What they did. Bring me some water." She kneels beside the injured gnoll, her deft but calloused hands going to work placing cloth bindings on the worst wounds.

To her credit, the girl hesitates only a second before scooping up two pitchers from the counter and carrying them to her mother.

* * *

Outside, Arkady’s eyes open. Above him, Tempest's flank blocks the bright sun, and the graceful sword-fighter who had been in the wyvern’s claws looks down on him, silhouetted by the bright blue summer sky above. High overhead, his vision still slightly blurred, he can make out the form of the wyvern and its rider gaining altitude.

The retreating wyvern knight couches his lance and lifts his heavy crossbow in their flight. In a practiced motion he hooks the fore-end over his boot and pulls the string back into position, then drops another bolt into place. His mount struggles to bear him higher, one reptilian leg leaking blood onto the rooftops below. The knight’s own armor is dented and hanging loosely in places. He turns in the saddle, warily watching the ragtag crew of fighters and magicians who killed his wing-mate.

 


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Old Oct 17th, 2020, 03:51 PM
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The wyvern shook off the effects of the fireball and a slew of other spells and started to retreat. Azar paused as she watched a strange grey-skinned woman with glowing stripes running into the square. She crouched next to the dead gnoll and then looked back, right into Azar's eyes. Time seemed to stop and Azar couldn't look away. Understanding passed between the two women, a recognition of kindred spirits, and then the woman looked away. Azar took a step towards her, reaching out, and then the woman and gnoll disappeared with a great crack of thunder which shook the entire square.

Azar stopped as the implications became apparent. At least one person knew that it was Azar who had cast that fireball. If she knew, it was entirely possible that the wyvern or its rider had seen who had been attacking them. And if they went back and reported to command…

She didn't even wait for the thought to finish, instead she charged out into the square as the fire exploded down her arm. She took just a moment to aim and then let it ignite, swooshing from her outstretched finger, high into the sky following the wyvern as it tried to retreat. The fireball hit hard and the wyvern faltered, although the rider managed to duck down at the last moment, putting the body of his mount between himself and the worst of the explosion.

Azar was breathing hard and her energy was just about spent, and still the wyvern flew on.

What did I just get myself into? she wondered.

 

 
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Old Oct 17th, 2020, 06:15 PM
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Jarl Asbjorn Grimsson
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As he contemplates what to do now that the second wyvern and its rider seem to be in retreat, Asbjorn scans the sky for a moment, looking for new threats. When he turns his gaze back to the injured gnoll he can see that it is now no longer as enormous, and that one of the strangest looking ladies he’s ever seen is kneeling over the furry warrior. His wife or lover, perhaps?

He stares perhaps a little too long, and is surprised when she vanishes with the sound of a rumbling thunder that shatters the glass in the windows. Just when he thinks he may have seen it all, he notices that the odd couple has appeared in the corner of the house where he’s taken cover during the battle. The strange-looking woman starts questioning the thief from earlier about a name, a little too soon after the battle in Asbjorn’s humble opinion, and the two womenfolk from the house start tending the wounds of the gnoll.

With no enemies within reach, the northerner takes advantage of the lull in the fighting and walks to where the two women are treating the dog-like creature. It fought well, that much is clear. Just as clear is the fact that it is a savage beast, as its muzzle is bloody. As he is about to ask the strange woman if she cares for the creature, he realizes that he already knows the answer. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have used her magic to save it.

"He fought bravely," Asbjorn says, still holding Valinn in his right hand. "The gods love a good fight. And I fear this battle might not be over yet," he continues, placing his hand on the beast’s furry brow. "He is not finished here, father," he says, referring to his ancestor by this familiar term, even though he isn’t actually his father.

Asbjorn has always been able to decide the faith of those hovering at death’s door, to make the call if they should join the gods in the afterlife, or stay in Midgard and live to fight again. So have many others in his family. By the grace of Baldur. Using Healing Hands, Bato recovers 5 HPAsbjorn can feel warmth flowing through him and into the furry head of the gnoll. It feels wonderful. Almost a diametric opposite to how he feels when he allows the shadow that travels with him to vents its anger in battle. "Rise, warrior. Your skill in battle saved you. The gods themselves were entertained when they saw you wrestle that wyvern. And they want you to stay here, in Midgard, and continue to entertain them," he says, locking eyes with the furry warrior as he comes to. "But know this, gnoll. The gods are easily offended and demand ever greater deeds of us," he intones.

And then the sternness is gone from his face and he smiles at the gnoll as he sheathes Valinn. "You’ll live, but this will hurt for a while. Can you stand?" he says, offering his hand. He nearly withdraws it when he sees the claws, but he is a proud warrior and keeps his hand out. "I’m Asbjorn. It was my honor to fight by your side. You should also thank your lady-friend over there," he says, indicating the woman who used her magic to transport the gnoll into the building. "She must care for you a great deal to risk her life saving you," he says, smiling now. What wonderful children those two will make one day.

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  #52  
Old Oct 18th, 2020, 11:16 AM
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ValeraMovement to the north and east catches Zephyr’s eye from his elevated position on the rooftop. The orange dragon! Its formerly lazy circle of the city has taken on a new urgency. The wyrm flaps its huge, powerful wings amd turns sharply south, then east; zigging and zagging in a display of strength and grace.

And then another. An even larger dragon of sparkling blue rises! The cobalt scales and rippling, reptilian muscles glint in the sun like ocean waves as the blue follows the path of its orange brother. Both dragons dive out of site beneath the cityscape behind the palace mount, but Zephyr can hear the deep roars echo from between the tall buildings, followed by the roar of flame and the crack of thunder in the cloudless sky!

But here, in the Cerean Market, things have quieted much. The only foe still living, the armored wyvern rider, floats down from the skies. Zenda and Arkady rush to the rooftop on Tempest’s back to meet their unarmed enemy.

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The knight reaches up with guantleted hands and grasps both sides of the large, horned helm; then lifts it free and tucks it beneath an arm as she descends the final few feet to the rooftop. She casts a woeful glance into the street below at the dead wyverns. Her gaze then shifts across the courtyard, hardening into a menacing sneer as it finds Azar beneath the palm tree.

The knight’s feet touch down on the roof and her face becomes impassive as she turns to face Zenda and Arkady.

"I yield." Her gravelly voice suppresses much of the emotion, but there is shame and anger in those two words.

 

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Old Oct 18th, 2020, 04:00 PM
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Her second fireball still wasn't enough to bring the wyvern down! But fortunately a blast from a blonde-headed fop and another fireball from the strange ash-coloured woman finally ended the beast. She watched in satisfaction as it tumbled from the sky, but gasped as she saw the rider gracefully descending behind it. She rushed forward, intending to finish the job, but the rider dropped its crossbow in surrender. Azar paused, eying the powerful beings around her. She didn't know these people; how would they react to her killing an unarmed foe? She couldn't afford to make any more enemies, not now.

Standing straight and proud, she pretended that the withering look the dragonborn sent her way just washed over her, but in reality it struck deep into her soul. If this soldier lived to report her treachery to her superiors… Azar didn't need to imagine the horrors that they would inflict on her; after all she had been the one to carry out that duty against so many people in the past.

The griffon rider, the Ishadian and the blonde-headed man were surrounding what they must have thought of as their prisoner, but what would they do with her? They had no chain-of-command to fall back on, and the city watch were sure to have their hands full with all the other invaders. Perhaps Azar could still salvage something from this mess?

"My mistress will want to question this one," she shouted up to the group standing on the roof. "Would you help me escort her to the palace?"

 

 
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Old Oct 19th, 2020, 08:54 AM
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Arkady
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Blinking awake into the brilliant blue, Arkady was certain he was with the gods now. A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked up at the angel in the endless sky and Tempest who must have died with him. It was peaceful here, just as the priest used to tell him as a boy. He didn't even need to use any muscles to float this way. But he also felt extremely nauseated too. His face stung and his side was on fire. That didn't seem right. Hmmm.

The angel was glowing, or parts of her were - her beautiful angelic eyes and bands of white that crisscrossed skin like the softest doe leather. He smiled beatifically up at her. Then she yelled at him and ruined the whole scene. "Get up!" she cried. "They're getting away!" as if to emphasize her point, the clear blue sky erupted in thunder and brought him out of blissful reverie and back to the painful world of living. He laughed and turned on his side and promptly vomited. Zenda could see an oily poison leaking from the dented plates of his armor where her gift had pushed it from his wound. Still alive. Alive still? And so was Tempest then. And then he said it, "Tempest, you are alive!" the magical beast looked back and since she could not roll her eyes exactly, she rolled her head and made a mild squawk.

"Don't be silly, m'lady," he replied to Zenda, "Why would they move away when we aren't dead yet?" The bald jumble of armor stood and looked down at his arm where his shield was still hooked and then around at the scene. Tempest was impatiently looking back at him and up to the east. Her wings were folded, but her talons clattered on the stone tiles of the market in agitation. He wiped his mouth of sick.

Nearby, the palms bore strange and wonderful fruits beneath their fronds; exotic women in strange garbs. The one nearest seemed to look at them with the black eyes of a raven. He laughed again like a giggle and hooked his foot under the lance that had clattered to the ground next to him under its balance point and kicked it up with practiced ease to his hand. Though the beautiful maiden spoke with a thick, sexy accent, he coughed his thanks to her in Valeran and bowed before climbing back in his saddle. As he looked up into the sky again to find the wyvern, he felt the woman crawl up behind him on the back of Tempest. His face blushed at the thought of how her dancer's legs might be folded behind him and the feel of her hand that found a grip on his splint armor. Tempest must have approved the coupling. Arkady wasn't sure why the wild griffon would have allowed it otherwise. Fireworks burst in the sky overhead in balls of fire. It was truly romantic.

Tempest, crouched and launched into the air. The griffon knight felt it and adjusted automatically, but to Zenda it must have been a tremendous feeling. She saw him hook his lance into a spot on his saddle nonchalantly as the market fell away beneath their feet. Ahead, the wyvern was plummeting and still burning. Its rider suffered the same fate in slow motion but seemed to be alive.

By the time they reached the rooftop in a burst of speed that sent Zenda's hair flying behind, the warrior had stowed his shield as well and brought to bear a strange bow. Thick metal recurved with wood along its squat length and it looked as difficult to draw as a crossbow. Riding a griffon was not like a horse or camel. Her body twisted and rolled like a running lion and threatened to spill Zenda with every dizzying foot they climbed.

Ahead of her she felt the knight shaking. No, he was laughing again. Who knew why this time?! In truth, he was tickled because of the ever shrinking dragons. Arkady was imagining the dragon riding dragon was going to pull an even smaller dragon from her armor somewhere. His laughing stopped immediately as his mind fell briefly into a hole of infinite shrinking dragons.

Pulling himself out of that freefall, he said, "Yield? I'd say your fighting days are at a full stop." Welcome to Valera, he added in Valeran. He was getting the hang of the language now.

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Old Oct 19th, 2020, 12:14 PM
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Lifeline
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The father was safe in here for the moment, the others - while scared, didn't seem eager to come at him. This was good.

Lowering his amulet the wanderer let out a sigh of relief at the momentary respite before the windows shattered inwards blanketing the floor like razor snow along with an unlucky clay cup. Raising his arm grasping his quarterstaff to shield his face from the shards the false priest lowered it only to noticed everyone's attention was shifted to the far corner of the room. Following their gaze Renfield paused upon the sight of a vaguely familiar normal sized gnoll and the Oracle. "Where did they come from!?"

His left hand absently lifted for the handle when the Oracle locked eyes on him and demanded to know who he was. Who he was? That meant she didn't know who he truly was.


This was an out.


A lifeline in this horrid day. Oh, why did he have to suck up to Charun and let the shadows of the world grow so much, especially on a day when the shadows all bore their fangs?!

"I fear I know not what you speak of young Miss. I am Father Renfield, a simple devotee of Charun, Lord of the River Styx." the amulet was presented once more as if a VIP badge to get behind the curtains at the local amphitheater. Though the amulet was on full display his tone OOC - playing on that curse (DIS on all CHA skills)betrayed him as the words came out dismissive opposed to the sincere tone of a charlatan he wished to play on.

Letting the amulet fall onto his vestment the false priest's hand drifted towards the door "Well, it seems we have a moment of safety - good work everyone. It seems our souls are ours for another day, now if you'll excuse me I have church business to attend to as there are bodies in need of their proper rites."

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Old Oct 19th, 2020, 12:49 PM
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Zephyr
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Zephyr was almost giddy-- sad for the loss of the beast, but giddy nonetheless. The rider was still alive as he gently began to float downward to land on the roof right next door. Luckily, the two roofs were connected by a bridge...Or, a kind of bridge?

Zephyr paused. On one hand, he wanted to see the fallen beasts below, but the dragon-man was so close. No! The dead beasts will be there for a while longer. He dashed, attempting to keep his balance and nearly fell when he looked up to see the magnificent feathered beast above. It only excited him further. This was awesome! What did it feel like to be so free in the air like that? The things the beast and rider must’ve seen...

Once on the other side Zephyr looked down at a voice shouting up at them. He couldn’t quite explain his feelings when he looked over the edge, spying her below. Maybe it was the words she used or the clothes she wore. The look in her eye or the tone she had. She had a stick up her a*s, obviously! People who were uptight usually took orders from someone else-- which would make sense, because...who was ‘my mistress?’

Zephyr promptly ignored her, pulling away from the edge. He wasn’t anybody's lackey. Besides! Why didn’t she just call for more of her friends. She should have some if ‘my mistress’ sounded as important as she had made it. Psh.

As he turned and pulled to a stop. He hadn’t seen her at first, but the fierce lady was back. Carmel skin and flowing hair-- she was bewitching. Zephyr had heard stories from his coddling Watcher, Saadri, about such women. Dangerous, vile and seductive with a fiendish purpose. She had said that beautiful women were only after one thing...He forgot what that thing was now, though. Not that it mattered. He was freed from them all.

Zephyr edged forward to listen in on the conversation. He had a sneaking suspicion he had no idea what was going on-- which was thrilling in itself. It meant he was about to learn something, hopefully.


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Old Oct 19th, 2020, 03:33 PM
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Zenda, Child of the Gods
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Zenda glared down at the knight with frustration. Had wasn't moving. Had he been too far to save? Had she wasted precious seconds on him? Then he suddenly rolled over and she had to leap back to avoid the effluvia that vented from him as his body tried to rid itself of the toxins infesting it. Wyvern venom was insidious stuff indeed. His mind still seemed addled, but he moved towards his mount, so that was progress at least.

She hadn't exactly been invited, but she wasn't the kind to wait for a clear signal. She moved towards the griffon, and when it didn't disembowel her, she regarded that as good a welcome as she was going to get. She climbed up behind the knight and wrapped herself securely around him, the saddle hardly being designed for two. He was wearing heavy armor and facing away from her, but she heard his breath catch when she wrapped her legs around. Oh yes, she knew what he was thinking about. Zenda rolled her eyes and looked skyward. This process was far too slow. With her luck, they'd take flight just to get a better vantage point of the raider's retreat.

But once more a flurry of spells from the ground cascaded around the wyvern and she watched it fall. She had a brief moment to consider just how many powerful people had banded together to defend this one market from the raiders. Was the rest of the city like this? Full of warriors, adventurers and spellcasters? Or was this what the Prophet had sent her here for? Not to witness the attack, but to discover this band of people brave enough and strong enough to fight back. What had started here today? Could she become a part of it?

Her thoughts were pulled back to the plummeting form of the wyvern and she could see a smaller form separating itself and falling much, much slower. The rider had some sort of magical protection. As someone who had just been dropped forty feet herself, she could appreciate the usefulness of such a thing, but she still gritted her teeth in frustration that the soldier wouldn't dash himself to pieces on the buildings below. Left to their own devices, the rider would be able to escape into the city. Their work wasn't finished yet.

Before she could say a word to the knight or his beast, she felt powerful muscles bunch beneath her and feathered wings spread wide as they launched into the air. Suddenly she was clinging, much, much tighter to her newfound companion. It was a bizarre sensation, at once both exhilarating and nauseating as they soared and swooped through the air. It lasted only seconds and then they were on the rooftop just as the Mharoti soldier landed and removed her helmet, surrendering herself. Another Edjet! Not one of those Zenda had seen earlier, but certainly in league with them.

Zenda glanced sidelong at the knight to weight his temperament. This had certainly been an act of war. The Mharoti cared little for the nicities of civilized conduct. One glance to the dead civilian in the street would tell you that. Would this knight condone her cutting down the Edjet in cold blood? Before she could act, or even decide, her gaze was drawn to another figure approaching across the rooftops. The pale man from earlier? She had told him to flee! What kind of fool flees an attack from winged dragonkin by going to the roof? He should be inside. Now she had two witnesses. Then yet another voice called out from below. Some bureaucrat! Zenda ground her teeth in fury. She had no status here to defy the local authorities. Truly, she had no authority in Ishadia, either. But at least there she had resources and connections.

Having missed her opportunity, Zenda was out of options. With a glare that could have curdled milk, she moved behind the soldier. "Fine! You heard the lady. Move!" She leaned in close and whispered sibilants in what would have been an ear on any decent person. "This is merely a stay, not a reprieve. Don't get too attached to that cold blood of yours. I will see justice done." With a not too gentle jab in the back, Zenda started to herd the Mharoti down the stairs.

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Last edited by hafrogman; Oct 19th, 2020 at 03:34 PM.
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Old Oct 19th, 2020, 11:40 PM
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The fighting was over. One of the wyverns had fallen, and by the explosion even Lucia could see against the brightly lit sky it seemed the other would join it shortly. ...Yes, there it goes, she thought, shading her eyes against the sun to watch it fall appreciatively. The rider was drifting to the ground and unless they were completely foolish the fighting was over for now, which was fine by Lucia, really. The midday sun was not her preferred battleground, and really she preferred her mortal interaction to be decidedly less bloody, if possible. The skies were safe enough for the raven to emerge from its hiding spot, and her familiar took to the air over the square in the interests of keeping an eye out for further points of interest.

The man and woman she'd snagged from the air had returned to it already, of all the stupid things, and were landing on the nearby roof to greet their guest when Lucia emerged from the alley. Another woman, Lucia couldn't really be bothered to guess at her species, was calling for the prisoner to be escorted down to the palace. A quick glance around confirmed that they were no further invaders, but it hardly seemed safe...hadn't there been a dragon when all this started? Lucia moved calmly over to the building where people had begun to gather, her clinging foreign dress and dark local shawl at odds and radiating an odd if attractive picture.

"How thrilling," Lucia finally mused aloud. She was not a particularly loud person by nature, but she raised her voice enough to be heard as she turned her black-orb gaze on each of the mortals present in the square, save those who were on rooftops or in buildings. Presumably there were more of those running about than just the rider and her erstwhile bits of mortal precipitation. "I'd heard that there was more fighting on this side, but I'd hardly expected a draconic siege. It raises many interesting questions about things I've seen here in Valera...." but she trailed off of that thought with a shrug. They were missing things, of course. How best to explain it? "I once saw a hawk stand over a kill, triumphant. It did not last long when another predator decided to take advantage." She changed topic without a moment's hesitation, waited, then deadpanned, "That was relevant, yes. Moving would be wise."

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Last edited by Syne; Oct 19th, 2020 at 11:41 PM.
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Old Oct 21st, 2020, 01:05 AM
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Bato groaned as he opened his small beady eyes. Emerging from the red mists of his bloodthirst...it was the same as it was always was, though it was mingled in with the painful black fog of being beaten into unconsciousness. His memory of the past few minutes was vague, a collection of metallic blood on his tongue...burning poison in his eyes and lungssensations, red...red...red...colors and surprise and fear on an edjet's face as their mount is pulled from the sky...palm trees and tents that were much too smallimages. It was always this way, like remembering a dream.

But the fair man that looked down upon him now was no dream, the force of his hand on Bato's brow was much too warm and solid. The man withdrew his hand before Bato could pull away and looked into the gnoll's eyes, speaking in a strange sounding Common. Bato didn't catch everything that the man said, but he did get the gist. Asbjorn had been the one to heal him. Bato regarded the outstretched hand warily for a moment, before taking it and coming to his feet with a labored wince. To the northman's credit, he bore the majority of the gnoll's bulk as he stood. Bato's body felt like he'd just lost a champion match and badly.

"Thank," Bato growled out in his limited Common, his canine voice falling into an expressive yip as he grinned, baring his teeth in an unnerving show of amusement. "Bato entertain all gods. Batoyangi." He pounded his chest in way of explanation. "Where riders? Dead?"

The gnoll looked around, taking in the inside of the room they were in,
Dice Perception (Smell):
2d20+6kh1 (13, 15 (keeping 15) )+6 Total = 21
his snout lifted to the air in inspection. The smell of blood, freshly spilled, along with the familiar smell of spices and oils of the market were still on the air. They weren't far from the square then. The sounds of fighting continued, but were more distant now. Perhaps the edjet and their mounts had been slain or fled.

More immediate were the other inhabitants of the room. Ladies who seemed to be commoners, especially in comparison to the obvious warrior Asbjorn. But the other inhabitant is what grabbed him - a woman who appeared to made of char and flame. "Who she?" He said to Asbjorn, rudely pointing at the creature.


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Old Oct 21st, 2020, 10:41 AM
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Jarl Asbjorn Grimsson
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The gnoll seems to have a limited vocabulary, although it could simply be that it doesn't speak the common tongue all that well, Asbjorn realizes. Nevertheless the furry warrior gets up and introduces himself.

"Good to meet you, Batoyangi," Asbjorn replies, sizing up the creature. He is a gnoll for sure, Asbjorn is confident that he's right about that, despite never encountering one in person before. He has wolf-like features, but there is something not quite wolfish about this Bato-fellow. Asbjorn’s only real point of reference is stories about huge raiding parties of gnolls somewhere in the south, but he has no idea if the fellow is a welcome guest in the city or not. Well, he should be welcomed, after what he did to drive off the wyverns and save merchants and other commoners from slaughter, at least in Asbjorn's opinion.

"The last I saw one of the riders and his mount had been killed, but I haven’t seen the other. I was just about to head out myself. If the city is under attack I’m sure there will be more opportunities for us to reap glory in battle, Bato, although you might want to take it easy after taking the blows you did," the northerner replies when the furry gnoll asks about the attackers.

He is taken aback a little when Bato doesn’t seem to recognize the woman who saved him. Asbjorn had naturally assumed they knew each other. To his credit he only thinks for a very brief moment about the fact that this might mean she isn’t spoken for.

"That’s an excellent question, my new friend. I had assumed she was your friend, since she risked life and limb to transport you here by magic," Asbjorn says, loudly enough to be heard by the woman and the man he assumes must be some kind of a thief, based on his earlier encounter.

He walks to the odd couple and bows his head a little. "I’m Asbjorn, a visitor to this marvelous city. It is surely fate that I arrived today of all days, and was here to do battle with the wyverns and their riders. And perhaps it is my fate to continue the fight, as I assume there is an almighty battle taking place near the walls," he says, his smile belaying his supreme self confidence. Despite everything, Asbjorn still feels perfectly at ease, and in control of the situation.

"I was planning to go look for more attackers to send to the afterlife. Will you three join me?" he says, pushing the door open and looking outside, searching for signs of battle. He sees a group of people confronting what looks like one of the wyvern riders on a nearby rooftop, but he carefully scans the sky above before venturing out. There are probably many more of the wyverns up there.

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