Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2019 16:28:35 GMT
Of all the things she had learned since leaving her home, the main truth – which had come as something of a surprise, really – was that she hated the wilderness. Especially in the winter. When she’d been a kid, Erato had dreamed of mystic glades and hushed glens, woods which smelled like pine (whatever pine smelled like) and fresh grass, pregnant with the promise of adventure and secret things. What she’d actually found, was a disappointing mix of dirt, insects and plant life which seemed determined to hold as much moisture as possible. A place so saturated with wetness and disgusting creepy-crawlies that after just a few minutes she found it impossible to feel clean. Not just that, but it was all the same. It didn’t matter to her if the trees were a bit shorter or taller in some places, or that some maintained a bit more green in the winter months. All she cared about was that the whole miserable experience of trudging through these cold, dire places did not match at all to the images she’d painted in her head from the romantic description of such secluded locales in the books of her youth. Nope. In this, the reality was a heavy disappointment. She tugged her jacket about herself tighter, and pulled the large, pointed hat she favoured down firmly over her ears as she kicked her way through the snow-covered ground. As she moved, she rolled a few dried leaves in the slim, thin paper she carried for this purpose. She tucked the makeshift cigarette between her lips, and flicked her thumb, muttering an arcane word beneath her breath to cause the little treat to light aflame. Soon, she was puffing on it, adding the odour of rich smoke to the winter-drenched landscape. That was a better thing, a more civilised thing, which helped her ward off all this unconscionable nature all over the place. Waterdeep, at least, had proven to be just what she’d hoped it to be. Just as it had been described in the book nestled within the inner pocket of her jacket. The City of Splendour was not a disappointment; it was a bustling hive of commerce and opportunity, a place where she could no doubt learn all the tricks and secrets she desired. She hadn’t dared to try and approach one of the actual arcane schools yet – such institutes of higher learning were… intimidating, to say the least. Besides, just getting through the doors of such a place probably needed more money than she had at hand. Which was to say, it required some money at all. When she’d left, she’d expected that her savings, modest as they were, might at least be able to cover the whole journey. In fact, she’d had to make it the last few days travel just on her own two feet, and when she’d finally made it to the city, it had become rapidly obvious that she needed to stock up on supplies. She couldn’t hope to do any of that in the City. The fact was, she was tired, hungry, and bitter about her journey – she couldn’t even afford a night at an inn, let alone a luxury like a bath or good meal. All of that weighed heavily on her, and the brutal fact of it was that she needed to trade or steal something so that she could get her appearance together. Once that was done, she might be able to convince someone to give her some paid work. With her new arcane talents, there had to be some way to parlay that into cash, right? But nobody in their right mind would hire her whilst she looked like she’d been sleeping on the streets for a week or more. Out of the sky, a tiny bat winged down and settled on her shoulder. That alone would likely seem odd, given that it was the middle of the day. “What we got, Squeaks?” She murmured, “We found anything that looks hopeful?” The bat squeaked excitedly a few times, and she nodded her head, “Aight, cool.” She muttered to herself, moving with a touch more certainty through the forest. She doubted Elminster ever had to go through this kind of crap. She’d actually had to consider selling off her dwindling supply of tabbaco, or maybe some of the other herbs she’d scrounged for their rumoured arcane potential. No doubt he’d never risked going hungry a day in his life. But she’d be damned if she was going to sell off anything like that. She hadn’t left home just to give up the things that set her apart from the other common folk. She was careful to make sure that the smoke was drifting away from the apparent target when she saw the creature up ahead. No doubt there were many arcane spellcasters who would see this forest as a treasure trove of undiscovered and unrealised potential, but for her, right now, there was a far more immediate concern – one which needed to be sated for her own wellbeing, and which might start her down the path towards a more permanent solution to her issues. The deer was a majestic creature. A delicate one, to be sure; the winter had clearly been no more kind to it than it had been to her, but her need was greater than its, and she might be able to scrape together a handful of silver for it, if she could get through the butchering process without losing her lunch. The animal raised its head, ears flicking this way and that- And in the very next instant, Erato gave a sharp, whipping gesture with her hand, and a harsh, course snarl issued from her lips: “Flambeau.”A burst of flame leapt from her outstretched palm, and struck the deer on the flank with enough force to bowl the unfortunate animal over into a bleating, flailing mass. The air sizzled with the scent of burned fur and blood, and then it went still. “Not our finest moment, Squeaks.” She muttered to her companion as she approached the downed beast. “I think they’ll probably leave this one out when they write the legend of Erato the Archmage, don’t you?” ( Malakbel - Current Wordcount: 1038) |
|
|
|
Post by Malakbel on Jan 19, 2019 18:30:11 GMT
He had found, with much joy, that Waterdeep was housing several arcane schools some possessing more renown than others. He was currently considering which one to join; Blackstaff Tower was the first one to come to mind. They stood on the lawful side of things which turned him away from them a bit, but lacking better options he would choose them for sure. On the other hand was the Enclave of Red Magic he had heard, a place where the Red Wizards and apprentices gathered. Now he had heard more about the Red Wizards and it sounded something that was much more genuine to him. Bordering on illegal, most of the times, too. But laws were made by the strong, and enforced via threat of violence of repercussions, so what were laws to those that could get away with doing what they pleased?
Lastly but not least he had heard about the undermountain, a place where he hadn't been yet. Rumour had it that it was a place where drow, druegar and foul magicians gathered to practice their dark arts. Now, if that wasn't tempting he didn't know what was. It stood to conclude that something labeled as dark and secretive by others would be the kind of things they wouldn't teach you in regular academies. If that wasn't the case, why not just go to any? The promise of arcane secrets called out to him greatly, and the lack of a perceived strict hierarchy was even better. He had decided to check the place later, to ask around and maybe bribe some people to see what he could find.
But until then he had to learn on his own, through either thievery or experimentation since never had he found a teacher proper, other than the first. And what better place to conduct said experimentation that out in the woods? He could kill two birds with one stone if he made it a gathering trip, to collect components for his spells in case one day he found himself without the arcane focus he used. He knew all too well what would happen if he did it within the city. Someone would complain, even if he wasn't hurting anyone. Magic had a tendency to unsettle people who couldn't comprehend what was going on. Soon enough, guards would show up, and from that moment on eyes would be on him. Also, he didn't want other people knowing what he could or couldn't do with his magic.
He was dressed with his armor, his dark cloak over it, carrying his backpack, with his shield on the side and his sword sheathed and hanging from the other side on his hip. Daylight for most beings was a time of safety and pleasant feelings. For him, it was rather neutral; while the darkness of the night incarnated the fear of the unknown in most other beings, it was the opposite for the Yuan-ti. He could see in the dark, while most others could not see him instead. He was thankful for the distractions of the city, and now being once again out in the woods reminded him of the wide contrast between the boredom of traveling alone and the constant train of stimuli provided by the ever-active city.
He was kneeling down silently, inspecting a shrub for what seemed to be a shroom underneath when he heard the sizzle of magic in the air. Something heavy fell and writhed on the ground, kicking and flailing. The sound of flames, and the ever too familiar unsettling sound of when they burnt out. It wasn't so far away. He thought for a moment. Then plucked the shroom, and after placing it into a pouch went to check. It wasn't out of good will purely that he was going to see what had happened, but out of curiosity too.
The Yuan-ti probably would be heard before he was seen, his passage through the woods marked by the way he heavily stepped on any twig in his way and moved branches and leaves aside with broad strokes of his arms. He was ready for trouble. In his mind, it was either bandits or worse. He was always expecting worse. Thus was his surprise when upon making it to a small clearing what he found instead was what looked like a small child to him, and a dead, burnt and bloodied deer on the ground.
He stood there, his yellow snake eyes evaluating the child with curiosity. She looked young; too young to be out here in the woods alone. The deer, had it been her doing? His gaze then settled on the bat perched on the girl's shoulder. And back again, staring into her eyes. When he spoke his deep voice had a calmed tome, friendly almost, but not overtly.
"Was it you just now killing that deer?"
He asked, remaining alert. For all he knew there could be someone with a crossbow hidden in the woods, waiting for someone to show up, and the girl was just bait. Unlikely, as most of his suspicions were, bordering on paranoid, but not impossible.
(Current Wordcount - 853)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2019 19:22:07 GMT
Erato was constantly alert – aware and mindful of her surroundings. Living, poor, in the city had drilled it into her. Looking as she does, there was a certain kind of being who saw her as a potential victim first, and all other things second. With her propensity for sticking her nose where it wasn’t wanted, she wouldn’t have survived this long were it not for a finely-honed survival instinct.
So it was that when the Yuan-ti announces his presence, the girl is already looking in his direction. The tension in the air was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife.
Perhaps it was a weakness of hers, to always assume the worst; that people would attack her given the opportunity, that the world was full of people who wanted nothing more than to take what little she had. Then again, that very instinct had been proven right over and over again. And she could think of precious few reasons why a man such as him might be out here, on his own. His business didn’t seem any more legitimate than hers.
Whatever his intentions might be out here, the man didn’t look welcoming. He was tall, armed, and armoured. The snake eyes didn’t help, but she wasn’t one to judge on that kind of basis – whilst her city had been markedly less cosmopolitan than Waterdeep, she knew that the city was legendarily welcoming. There was no reason to assume that this guy was up to no good purely because of his race.
His stance, that of a trained warrior, and his bearing, though? That was enough to set the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.
It didn’t help that she had never had any talent at all for lying or deception.
Painfully aware that she was, in fact, probably poaching – though she didn’t have the first idea what the penalties or consequences of that might be – she drew herself up to her full height and shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet. Her lips formed a hard, thin line as she regarded the snake-man with those serious eyes of hers. The dark blue gaze as cold as the frozen ground on which they stood.
Her cigarette continued to coil a lazy trail of smoke into the air for a half-second before she answered him.
“So what if it was?” She asked, raising her chin in challenge, “You going to tell me I can’t do my own hunting if the mood takes me?”
The bat on her shoulder let out an indignant squeak, and mimicked her body language in turn, raising its head in challenge as though it, too, were willing to face down the menacing figure before her.
The truth was a bit more nuanced than that, of course. The simple fact of the matter was that Erato had done a very quick analysis of the potential outcomes here.
She needed something to eat. She also needed to get some cash. Neither of these things was going to be possible if she let herself get scared off at the first sign of trouble. Besides, she had access to magic, now. The knowledge of it sizzled in the back of her mind. If worst came to worst, he might have a sword, but she was not completely defenceless herself.
Wind whipped through the clearing, drawing a light dusting of snow across the ground to swirl upwards and between the pair. It wasn’t snowing any more, but the legacy of the winter was all around them, broken only by the scent of charred meat.
The focus of the young girl was absolute and complete. There was none of the flightiness so often present in others her age. She might look bedraggled; her dark hair a mess beneath the hat, her clothes in need of a good wash, and the bags under her eyes speaking to the length of time since she had enjoyed a truly restful night’s sleep… but at the same time, the intensity in her bearing made it easy to look beyond that superficial weakness.
This girl was not like many others her age. There was no softness or fancy in her. That had been bled out of her by the long and arduous journey she’d taken to get to this point – the fact that what she’d found was close to everything she’d wanted, but it remained elusively beyond her grasp? That only made the girl harder. All her sharp edges exposed.
“I should warn you.” She continued, her voice loud and clear, fingers flexing at her side. “I’m a master of the mystic arts. If you try and draw that sword, it will end badly for you.”
Again, on the surface, it was a brazen threat – but beneath that, there was a note of uncertainty, and fear. She meant it, certainly; if she was forced to defend herself, she would use every tool she had at her disposal to do so. But she’d never been in a real fight before. She’d dedicated much of her energy to learning how to avoid fighting. But alone, in an unfamiliar forest, with a dangerous-looking man? She had to stake out her ground and make it clear she wasn’t going to go down easy if he tried anything.
Part of the curse of being gifted with a certain degree of intelligence was imagining all the myriad ways it could go horribly wrong if things did go down that path. What would she do? Her best bet was probably to throw up a concealing mist and try to make it back to the safety of Waterdeep, but did she really have what it took to outrun a trained warrior? Would she be better off trying to repeat her performance with the deer? She doubted, despite her bluster, that she could down someone like him all at once, and if he closed with her, did she really have the magic at her disposal to stop his sword showing her the colour of her guts?
A cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck as she tried to stare him down, willing him to defuse the situation.
(Current Wordcount: 2067)
|
|
|
|
Post by Malakbel on Jan 19, 2019 20:22:24 GMT
How old? He asked himself. Just how old was she? Earlier in the city, he had come to the realisation that he had begun to lost the ability to estimate the age of anything below an adult. Either they looked like children, naive and ignorant, or almost adults, as if there was nothing in between. And now he was faced with the same trouble again. Despite the gentleness of his tone -or so he would like to believe- his stern face, and the emotionless glint of his intense stare convinced everyone that he wasn't genuine in whatever he was saying, unless it was a threat or something along those lines. And he was painfully sure this wouldn't be the exception; not that he had grown to care much for that. He had accepted it as a fact of life, just as he had with many other things. But he'd much rather be feared than mistrusted or scorned. The soil of his boots were covered the leftover, sludgy mood from his walk, and his cloak was in no better shape presenting some cuts here and there that had been patched up with an amateurish hand. By his right wrist, tied with a lace like a loose wristband, was a crystal of a deep purple crystal no bigger than the last phalanx of a finger. Small strands of ruby red ran inside of it like small veins, trying to swallow as much of the sunlight as they could. He recognized the reaction in the child, the way she presented herself to meet up a possible challenge head on. Her height, her age, and her own voice didn't go a long way into sounding intimidating for the man; it was truer than ever for any wielder of the arcane arts that appearances could be deceiving but... One could only do so much about instinctual reactions. He smirked; a sharp, white smile painting his lips. A slow gesture. She looked ragged. Why would she be out here in the woods alone, looking like that? Why would she be out here in the woods looking like that and also killing a deer? Being startled he could understand up to some point, he would be cautious too with anyone he met in the woods like that. It reminded him of the fight or flight response. The hat, the dark circles under her eyes from sleep deprivation, the condition of her clothes. She looked like someone had plucked a beggar from the streets and placed her on the forest. His smirk widened when she claimed to be a master of the arcane arts, and he regarded that claim with the same ammount of acknowledgment one would to a child wielding a sword, claiming to be a masterful, renowned warrior. His right hand stood clear from his weapon and slowly rose up to her, palm facing upwards, elbow barely flexed. " Are you, now?" He was calm, having fun with the current situation at the child's expense, much like he had been when he played that joke on Citrine back then when they met. Not aggressively so either, just a man having a good time. He understood the girl was on edge, regardless; making any effort to walk his way towards her would end up with her either figthing or fleeing and he didn't want her to do either. " Cast your magic at me, just like you did that deer." He demanded, his tone imperative. His cold yellow eyes glowing with a faint shimmer of arcane power beneath. " I have nearly three hundred gold coins in my possession as of now. Should you be a master of the mystic arts, being as unprepared as I am you should have no problems striking me down. Not only do I have gold, but several other valuable items on me. You can take them if you fell me." The Yuan-ti said calmly as the wind slowly howled around them. While he was sure the little girl was not a master of the mystic arts, he really wanted to know if she was a spellcaster. It was a cruel, heavy-handed path that which he had chosen. He continued. " If you try to flee, or if you refuse I will cast a curse upon you instead. You shall never be able to leave this forest, and for the rest of your life you will have to live hunting just like you are now, hunting, and gathering." Finished the man vehemently, his face finally turning into a more serious visage; which was to say his smile slowly vanished to leave behind only a stone cold expression. Not that hard to do, considering it was close to his resting face. Naturally, he was bluffing as he had no way to cast such a thing currently, but surely the girl didn't know what; and scared as she was in a stark contrast to his own semblance he was sure it wouldn't take much convincing. " Show me your most powerful magic, girl" He wanted to see what would she do. What was the highest level of magic she could conjure right there and then. Was she truly a spellcaster, or was there something else going on? Would she press forward and actually attack him? Would she try to flee or instead talk with him? He could be considered cruel, and most certainly was, as most other individuals he knew in his position would have bent down on one knee and tried to appease the girl. He was not like that. This was a trial by fire, something to test her mettle and see her character, through and through. And a reckless thing to do. It was moments like these that truly tested one's will. The wind picked up and sweeping across the clearing sending his cloak billowing in the wind as far as his bag would allow, whipping his hair back and to the side. He moved his right hand towards her, pointing at her very, very slowly giving her every second to see the motion as if time itself had slowed down. The proverbial life before one's eyes. Tension. Anxiety. That all too familiar cold, electric sensation.
(Current word count: 1883)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2019 21:07:53 GMT
“You’re not unprepared.”
Erato’s tone was accusatory. Her jaw tightened at his threat, and at his approach. This was not exactly the response she had anticipated, but now it was here, she was calculating her next actions very quickly. Whatever occurred in the next few moments could have life or death consequences – both for herself, and for this man, whoever he was. The fact that he’d threatened to curse her was… interesting. It wasn’t a curse that she recognised, either. That made her curious as to the nature of it. It sounded Fae, to her ears, more than anything else – but she couldn’t think, immediately, of any Fae creature renowned for snake eyes and modern clothing.
She was fairly confident that he wasn’t malevolent. In her experience, people who genuinely wanted to hurt you didn’t give you an opportunity to play games with them. It was equally clear, however, that he wasn’t taking her seriously – and whilst she was mostly sure that he didn’t intend to open her up (even his threat had been nonlethal) she wasn’t prepared to bet her life on that fact.
Besides. There was an element of pride at stake here. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t lying. She did have mastery over the arcane arts, and whilst she knew she had a great deal to learn about the art of manipulating magic, she was not some bumbling student fumbling around with a few measly cantrips. She had begun to unlock the secrets of the universe. She was worthy of respect, and she would prove it to him beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“I’m not a thief.”
That was another point of contention. The amount of money he had on his person was irrelevant to her; unless she was forced into killing him, and she was increasingly aware of the fact that she didn’t want to do that. Killing the deer had been a matter of self-preservation. Despite his words, she wasn’t sure that murder was the only way out of this situation – not yet, at any rate. What sort of person would she be if she went straight to murder as the first option.
She took a measured, careful step backwards. Perhaps he might think that she was going to run, but she doesn’t. Positioning the deer’s corpse between herself and the stranger, she regarded him with far more intelligence than a girl her age should muster. She took a deeper drag on her cigarette, and worked her neck from side to side before she let the smoke blow out in a long, thin stream.
“You’re making a lot of assumptions about me based on limited evidence.” She continued. Her tone was much steadier, though that was at least partly an act; she knew the importance of appearing unconcerned. Plus, he was expecting her to try something. Perhaps a few more words would encourage him to let his guard down when she made her move. “The most important one, really, is that my most powerful magic is deadly. I just said it’d go badly for you.”
And in that moment, she decided exactly which course she’d take.
She smiled, and it was a thin, humourless thing. A smile made tight from the intense focus and strain as she pitted her Will against the weave of magic which flowed through the world. She knew that for many spellcasters it was different; that they moved in synch with the flow of magic in some natural way, or else were able to experience it as a purely academic exercise; a sequence of thoughts, equations and concepts they held in their mind in order to warp reality in their desired fashion.
For her, it was never easy. She set her mind against the world as it was, and spoke the Words which helped to focus the intent into reality.
“Incrompensi nonsen Tasha velun!”
As she spoke, her hands moved in tandem. One dipped to the series of tiny pouches at her waist and she drew out a series of tiny baked tarts; long stale, now, and flung between herself and the Yuan-ti, though they evaporated into sparkling white nothingness before they hit the ground. A duck’s feather twirled in those fingers, and her other hand gave a series of sharp, twisting motions.
For all that she was decidedly not an Archmage, there was no denying that the girl was, in fact, a spellcaster; and one with not inconsiderable skill, at that. The spell was woven with force and precision, and those sparkling blue eyes of hers were hard and cold as the Weave reacted to her demands.
At first, it might seem like nothing at all happened.
Whether or not that continued to be the case depended on just how strong the Yuan-ti’s willpower actually was. If the spell took effect successfully, everything about this situation would suddenly seem absolutely, incomparibly, hilarious. From the oh-so-serious expression on the child’s face, to the fact that she considered herself to be any kind of spellcaster at all… to the startled, dead expression on the deer’s face, to the way the blood lay splattered amongst the snow.
The spell was, truthfully, the most disturbing one that she felt she had command of at the moment. Yes, the ability to summon killing flame was dangerous and – by far – the best recourse that she had in the event of an actual need to defend herself…
… but this spell warped the mind of its unfortunate victim and rendered them utterly incapable of even staying on their own feet, let alone defend themselves successfully.
She could count on one hand the number of times she had used the spell. It wasn’t something she enjoyed doing, and she could only imagine what it felt like to those who had been effected; to find themselves so completely out of control of themselves.
But he’d wanted a display of her prowess, and this was the best way she could think of to defuse the situation. Or perhaps it would escalate things even further. There was really only one way to find out.
(Casting Tasha's Hideous Laughter - if you want to make a saving throw it is DC 13 Wisdom; failure means you are prone and incapacitated. I don't particularly mind if you want to autopass or autofail though; this is a social thread after all!)
(Current Wordcount: 3,084)
|
|
|
|
Post by Malakbel on Jan 19, 2019 22:16:22 GMT
She denied him being prepared, a fact he wouldn't deny. But how could she know if he was or wasn't prepared? Other than going by looks, that is. Though if he was to be fair between an unarmored young girl, and a grown man with armor and a sword. When she didn't cast her spell immediately, but neither did she run away he assumed only two possible outcomes were possible: The first, she would try to talk her way out of the situation, a sensible outcome. Or she would try to distract him first, before finally attacking him with a spell. Thus he studied her with care.
Her claim of not being a thief was met with the same stoic expression. Beneath the surface though, he was already beginning to draw a portrait of her character. She cared about that, he noticed. And then she took her first step; he first thought she was going to run then but when she didn't make a sprint in the first second all his money was on she finally doing it. Another drag, another sentence. She was getting ready for something. He awaited. Would it be an aimed spell? It would be folly, but he had called for it. The same spell she had used on the deer. Yet, she made time.
More words; it sounded to him like an empty bluff just as the first had been. She was making time, but for what? Did she have an ally out there somewhere or was she just waiting for something? Like a statue the Yuan-ti remained still, his gaze fixed upon hers. He had decided then, if she didn't make her move right then and there he would make his and end it. Wouldn't go so far as to kill her, but he would cast his magic. And then with a strained smile the girl finally made her move.
He didn't recognize the words per se, but knew for certain that it wasn't a firebolt the moment she began to search for a material component. Different wizards, from different schools and different places had different ways of doing things, whether it was casting spells or simply they had a different focus on their studies. Some were focused on maximizing and controlling the damages their spells did. Some others, with absorbing said damage and shielding both themselves and their allies. Others played with the power of illusions and no few were dedicated to the act of modifying and transmuting both substances and living beings. His own focus however was not placed within the reach of most traditional schools.
His way was to avoid being hit by both spells and blade; deflecting both steel and arcane energies alike. A task that was heightened and aided by his own blood and heritage. The spell took shape, or rather the girl made it take shape by forcing the weave. She was a wizard then, but that much he had known since the burnt deer. After the second sundering specially, magic was a scarce thing and not a casual trick that any farmer could wield. The words finished weaving it into reality and the arcane forces reached all around him submitting reality to the template she had casted.
"At si gio wis'd" His voice said in a harsh, unforgiving language
His hand moved as the familiar tingling sensation of magic around him fizzled in the air, it was a small gesture that made the air around him take shape and glow from a sparking golden to an immaterial black as it disappeared, congealing and concentrating the arcane force into a visible strand; purple threads that were laid upon his body quickly became visible and soon were sucked as if ink on water unto the tip of his fingers, with such force and speed they seemed to sprinkle towards the floor upon arrival... But even before reaching the grass and the snow they faded into the wind.
It was curious to him how such a subtle moment, how only a few moments of words and gestures, could have been incredibly deadly. What a fascinating and dangerous thing magic was.
"That was not a firebolt"
He declared. Part of him was frustrated, she had picked a crafty spell. It didn't require aiming as much as a physical spell of forces did, and it directly affected at the target object. He knew this much from that which he had briefly felt as his arcane deflection was performed. He was frustrated because it had not been a simple firebolt, or something easier for him to deflect. The thought felt hypocritical and made him smirk. The other part of him was satisfied, and entertained that it had been so. Better to be surprised like that, than to be otherwise bored by a predictable outcome.
That meant that the little girl even if she was not a master of the mystic arts actually did have some noticeable training in them. Enough to be able to use spells that were outside of the reach of most of the population, in any case. But her looks... She didn't look like she was from any academy or group. She looked way too poor for that to be the case. One of the conclusions made him smirk further. Maybe she was a spell thief, like him, learning magic in spite of her poverty and station, to spite on the world.
"Where did you learn to do magic, girl?"
He questioned, advancing this time towards her with one slow step at a time. It wasn't an accusation this time, nor a threat, but his words carried genuine curiosity to them. He didn't insult her by laughing at her efforts or pretended it hadn't been a good response, or attempt, given the circumstances.
"Fret not, for if I wanted to hurt you in any way, rest asured there would be nothing you could do to stop that."
He paused in his advance and reconsidered his words
"That came out wrong, what I mean is I'm not going to hurt you. Now... Was that truly your strongest magic, or were you just trying not to hurt me?"
Asked then with the same inkling of curiosity, before resuming his walk. There was always a chance that she knew something far deadlier. Chances were really slim, but they existed, for sure. His eyes still fixed upon her blue ocelli, her winter eyes with his summer ones, unblinking. His advance was measured at all times, slow, cautious but not overly so; otherwise it would look as if he was ready to jump her at a moments notice. No, it was a leisurely pace to give her enough time to consider whether she wanted to remain where she had been or casually move backwards or sideways, instead of being force pressed to make the call.
All in all, he'd be lying if he said he didn't know that advancing, at any rate, was a way of putting pressure into the young girl. Either stand ground and try to look firm, or move away and deny feeling in control. Her words were not so empty as he had believed them to be at first glance. He was pleasently surprised... But mostly, slightly puzzled.
(Current word count: 3088)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2019 23:27:28 GMT
“Not great with people, are you?”
Erato’s eyes had widened with surprise when her spell was met with such a potent reaction. She’d never seen something like that before, but it was impressive. Some kind of counter-spell? Clearly, she was dealing with someone who knew more about magic than she did. There was part of her which wanted to test how much more he could do. He could clearly defend himself, but did that extend to effects which weren’t directed at his corporeal form?
As he advanced towards her, he could clearly see that his approach was bringing more out of the girl. Fatigue was cast aside as she focused herself more intently on the task at hand. She didn’t feel threatened any more; not in danger of losing life or limb, at least. But now she was playing the game for the sake of her pride, instead.
The girl’s voice was a low susurrus as she focused her formidable Will a second time in rapid succession. This time, the movement was much looser, and was not directed at all upon Naizelos. Her hands wove as though in subtle gesture to the movement of the winds, the drifting snow around them. She smiled to herself as she released the spell, and finished by tugging the brim of her hat down over her eyes.
“Don’t worry.” She said, unable to keep the teasing edge out of her voice, “This probably won’t hurt you, if you’re careful.”
As she spoke those words, swirling vapours began to rise from the ground around her feet. In a matter of seconds, the fog had raised thickly all about her, spreading out to blanket a perfect, twenty foot radius sphere around her. There was no substance to the fog; no true odour, nothing but the sudden and complete cessation of sight. All at once, it became much more difficult to tell if he was advancing towards her, if she had chosen to stay where she was, or if she’d moved back – or even forwards.
There was no doubt about it, the girl was smug about the second spell. Her favoured approach was definitely far less direct than the Yuan-ti’s expected display of power. She couldn’t hope to best him in a fair test of raw magical power; but the point she was making was clear. If she needed to defend herself, she had tools at her disposal to help her do precisely that. There was definite satisfaction to be found in subverting the rules of the game.
At least, that was what she hoped; he might well have a counter to her counter. If the fog was burned away by that same shimmering counter-spell, she’d have learned something else today too. That would be interesting, and worthy; it would also be annoying, because she couldn’t hope to muster another true expression of arcane will without some significant time to rest herself. Still. He didn’t know that, and it was going to be significantly easier to play it cool when he couldn’t see her.
“Where I learned my art is my own business.” She continued, just to make sure he was fully aware of the fact that, wherever she was in the cloud, she hadn’t fled immediately. In fact, in order to stop herself being distracted by the blanket of slate-grey fog she had summoned, she closed her eyes, and reached out to Squeaks. It would take her a few more moments before she could synch with her familiar, but the bat would be able to help her keep track of this strange man’s movements – just in case he could, in fact, see through the fog through some means and was coming towards her with sword drawn. That would be a sucky revelation.
“That was an impressive defence, though. I’ve not seen something like that before. Maybe if you told me how you did that, I’d be more inclined to share some of my own secrets.”
The offer was on the table, then. She was curious enough about his own abilities to at least hint that she’d share something of her own. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d say if he took her up on it, though.
There were so many different paths to magical power out there in the world. Gods, demons, power latent in blood and other, stranger sources. So much of it was based on a fell source, or a bargain struck with some unknowable entity. She was hardly squeamish about such things herself; there had been a time in her life where she would have seized on any offer that might have lifted her from the squalor of her birth.
But she was painfully aware that others were more judgemental of such things – and that, moreover, most people would find the truth of her studies to be utterly unbelievable.
She was young for the amount she had learned, and the fact that she’d done so without any official tutor, nothing more than a scrappy notebook filled with general principles and a few basic notes on cantrips? That was a laughable idea to many. She knew, because many had laughed in her face when she’d tried to explain it.
It was ironic, really. It would be easier for her to lie and claim that she had some familial connection to a great wizarding family, or was already a student at one of the institutes of arcane education. At least in those cases, her capabilities would feel more explicable.
But she’d deal with that problem if the man seemed interested in making a reasonable trade. Until then, she was more interested in the response her offer would garner; that, and whether he was going to take her attempt to change the rules of the game once more as an insult and come at her with intent to prove that he really could hurt her if he wanted to.
She didn’t doubt that he could, but that didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.
(Wordcount: 4086)
|
|
|
|
Post by Malakbel on Jan 20, 2019 23:35:01 GMT
"It's a work in progress"
He claimed with a smirk. It had been a pleasant encounter thus far, and luckily enough there didn't seem to be anyone else around to ruin his fun. Not that any but the bravest would dare to interfere where two magic users were concerned, but the part about him tormenting an "innocent" child sure was going to be stirring up some hearts. Except that for him the child was anything but innocent; and in his eyes anyone who believed any child to be innocent or pure had surely forgotten what it had been to be a child.
When the girl began to chant again, a low murmur, his guard was still up and immediately he readied himself to recieve a second spell from her part. Surely, she wouldn't be so crass as to shoot a firebolt at him now, not from this distance, and not after not doing it the first time around. That was what his gut was telling him. And in a matter of seconds vapors rose from the ground and the snow around them filling the area with a dense fog that made vision impossible. Impossible of course, unless you possessed another means to see; and if the animal perched on her shoulder was her familiar she would be able to share his senses. She was smart enough to figure out -or to believe him- that she would not stand a chance in straight combat against him so she was still trying to go around it, and buy time.
This made him smile. Annoyed though as he was, as anyone would be when in a game the opponent refuses to give up even when the outcome is already decided, he found it slightly inspiring. Commendable, even. It was fun. And it had been clever.
His own familiar was not that far away; though it lacked wings it made it up by being insconspicous; by now it was behind and above her on a tree, walking silently on a branch. Not being able to see through the fog in any case, for a spider it was, but it would keep him informed if the girl chose to run away from the area of uncertainty she had summoned.
Two thoughts went through his mind then. The first solution was to transform his own familiar into a bat; thus denying her the advantage over being able to see in that area.
"Fine then, it's a deal" He said "Pay close attention now for I am going to tell you how I did it, and I will not repeat myself. It's really simple. The first thing you have to do is focus on your surroundings and sugregrek"
The crystal that hung from his wrist let out a small sparkle as his hand traced a gesture in the air and his word commanded the weave around the fog to do his bidding; he pulled at the strings of reality for a second, and warped it, and when he released it it was like releasing a sling. Reality around the fog had been fundamentally altered. There would be no fog rolling in, no counterspell in the area, but the effect would be the seem effectively as an unreleting and insidious force made it's way into the minds of the creatures within, starting with her familiar and then creeping into her as well. Subtle, but powerful; a spell that sapped her strength in the most unsettling of ways; making her tired beyond tolerable, entrancing her to fall on to a deep slumber along her familiar, slowly and certainly.
In his eyes this was one of the absolutely worst spells one could fall prey to, for it left it's victims defenseless and the only way to survive it's proverbial onslaught was to possess a kind of vitality not many people boasted. There was no other way to overcome such a spell, other than being unable to fall asleep in the first place, or being asleep already. But if you were already sleep when someone was casting a spell on you, you had bigger problems to worry about. There were not many things he could imagine that would be worst that being so defenseless in front of someone who would (or could) do you harm. Nothing at all.
Nothing to stop that person from slowly walking towards you, taking aim with a giant axe and... Letting gravity do the rest. Maybe not even so. It would be possible to just sprinkle poison onto the hapless victim. Levitating a huge rock just above them and letting it fall. Tying them up as they sleep and... The possibilities were endless, but all of those horrible things had their beginning at being so helpeless. He didn't feel guilty at all though, it was very close in nature to the first spell that she had flung at him, as far as he knew. He would wait then until the fog rolled back, as surely it depended on the concentration of the young wizard to keep it in place.
"Art" she had called it. The thought of magic as an art made him purse his lips. Was it an art to him? No more than making alchemical concoctions was an art, no more than sword figthing was an art. It was a tool at best... But maybe it wouldn't be so out of place to call it an art. It did arouse curiosity within him the way she had refused to reply. He assumed probably because she considered him a danger to her person, and answering could give out crucial information about what kind of magic she could do or what kind of magic would make the most sense for her to know after knowing her school or academy, or group. Probably something like that. Of course, the fault was in thinking he was aware of those things in the first place. As it was, he barely knew any details about the so called magic "academies" other than where they were located and a rather rough summary of what they were about as a whole.
He discarded this train of thought when he once again remembered the way she looked. Like a beggar without a copper to spare. Surely someone like that would not be part of a magic academy... Another point for a spell thief then. But why would she hide it? Shouldn't it be a thing to be proud of? He knew he was proud of himself for his accomplishments. Could it be that it was outlawed, then? Perhaps just as much as poaching was.
(Current word count: 4178)
|
|
|
|
Post by Kai Wren on Jan 21, 2019 0:12:50 GMT
QEO32BP95d85d8
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2019 8:50:23 GMT
Of course, reforming his spider into a bat would have taken a full ten minutes and a rather intense ritual – so it was unsurprising that he decided to go down the other option he had been considering. Not that Erato saw it coming. If she had, it would probably have been less frustrating for her when she started to drift.
There was definite irony there. She’d started to calm down and had been looking forward to a discussion about their differing approaches to magic, but rather than engage in an honest dialogue and sharing of knowledge, the man had tricked her. She had listened carefully, eagerly even, wanting to hear the explanation for his countering of her spell, but rather than get any such insight, she instead found herself drifting irresistibly towards slumber. Rather than summon her cloud and seek to continue the discussion between them, perhaps she should have saved her spell to protect herself and lashed out instead. Apparently, he’d had no interest in treating her as a peer – he’d only wanted to prove his superiority. He’d certainly managed that; he’d won the contest, but the betrayal had likely cost him an ally.
Stubborn as ever, she tried to hold it off for as long as she could. “You bastard.” She spat from within her summoned fog, true venom laden into those words as her eyes grew heavy and her mind grew sluggish. Before long, it became impossible for her to maintain focus on the shroud of fog she had summoned. Slowly but surely, the mass of unnatural vapour cleared around her, and her bleary eyes focused on him again. If there had been a hint of fear before in the girl’s proud gaze, now there was just a ferocious, indignant anger.
She was visible first as a tiny point of light, the cigarette still smouldering in her lips. Hot and furious, her fingers flexed at her side and fire sparked briefly between them. She couldn’t focus well enough to get the word out, but it looked like he’d misjudged her quite badly. At this point, she would have loved nothing more than to burn him with her ‘inelegant’ cantrip – but alas, such was beyond her. Revenge would have to wait until she was conscious once more.
Rendered helpless by the onrush of magical power assailing her mind with false fatigue, the fire dancing between her fingers sputtered out, and then, the girl sagged, crumpling in on herself as her eyes lost focus, and the one menacing figure became two, swimming in her vision.
The cigarette tumbled down to extinguish itself against the snowy ground, and she followed soon afterwards. Her cheek hit the dirt as she collapsed in an inelegant tumble of limbs, her hat knocked clear off her head. No longer able to maintain her concentration and impose her will upon the world, the cloud cleared completely shortly thereafter, and she was left unconscious next to the slain body of her kill, no more able to defend herself than the deer had been.
(Wordcount: 4593)
|
|
|
|
Post by Malakbel on Jan 26, 2019 21:15:51 GMT
He waited, pondering if the spell had actually taken hold of the girl and her familiar. It was a strange thing not to know if one had been successful, but such suspenses were the peril of magic he guessed. Those few first moments were intense, even if nothing was at stake really. Slowly but surely enough the fog receded and through it's ever thinning veil the figure of the girl laying in the ground appeared. He allowed himself a smirk and walked without a hurry towards her body, mindful of looking around to make sure that there was no outside danger ready to jump upon them, ever vigilant. When he was close he leaned forward to grab the little girl's hat, and briefly ran his hand across it energically to clean it from the fall, and then proceded to once again place it on her head.
His spider walked down the tree and approached her, behind her head, remaining hidden and motionlesss on the ground. Shortly afterwards, he gently nudged at her standing at her side in order to awaken her once again. A grin of entertainment on his lips.
"Hey, hey wake up... I was in the middle of explaining arcane secrets to you when you fell asleep on me, I am thoroughly wounded. I thought you wanted to know."
There wasn't even the slightest bit of effort put into making that an actual attempt to lie, it was but sarcasm and his usual way of talking and carrying himself. Now they could finally see face to face, however, and quite literally given the distance. He focused his gaze on the traits of the downridden girl; not yet a woman he guessed from up close, but quite near.
"Do you want me to pick it up where we left?"
He offered.
There was the final test, one of pride. He as interested in knowing more about her before blurting out anything that could make the difference between victory or defeat however, but his relationships demanded by his very nature that they not be with sensitive, or vulnerable individuals. He lacked both the tact and the ability to take -or rather, react to- things seriously, at least in words. Some sulked over it, some others, like the firebird, laughed along and quickly catched on. Words were wind they both had said, and right they were. He figured there would be two possible outcomes to the situation. The first, the girl would take him at his word and relax; in his socially stunted mind there was nothing that could deliver a peace offering message better than actually proving you had had a chance to kill someone free of consequence and have given it a pass, to prove the truth of your words. The second, she would not and assume the worst, either out of fear or sulking at the fact that he had also used a spell in response. In either case, the wand measuring contest had settled and he had not found her wanting.
She wasn't quite the impostor he had thought at first, or barely an amateur dribbling in her first cantrip, she wasn't helpless and didn't appear ignorant, but she wasn't at his level at the moment; either due to her age and conditions, or the lack of a teacher, he couldn't tell. That made her an enigma.
(Current word count: 4729)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 27, 2019 20:28:26 GMT
One thing was absolutely certain. When Erato was woken up, she was not smiling.
The girl drew her dagger in an instant, and backpedalled away from the dark figure with the blade held between her and him. It wasn’t the kind of blade that would menace a trained fighter; but it was a practical thing. A length of steel kept sharp and true, a hilt of worn leather betraying the fact that she had kept the dagger for a very long time. A good knife was a tool, first and foremost, but it was also sometimes the only defence that a girl could rely on, and the fact it had been hidden somewhere about her person spoke clearly to her paranoia.
“Fuck you.”
Yes, if he had been hoping that her pride could take such a thing, or that she wouldn’t take it personally? He was going to be disappointed. The girl’s fury was not abated by her enforced, dreamless sleep, nor by his attempt at levity in the aftermath of it.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” She spat, “You weren’t explaining shit. You tricked me. I was ready to talk in a way that’d let me feel safe, and you decided to take that away from me. You used your magic to violate me. So fuck you. I’m not telling you a damn thing. Take your secrets and cram them up your ass.”
All pretence the girl had towards erudition and wit? Cast aside. She wasn’t behaving much like a self-proclaimed Master of the Mystic Arts. Her whole tone changed, back towards the truth of her upbringing. She’s a commoner; someone with pride in her craft and her work, who feels insulted, and she’s expressing it with all the eloquence of any other peasant girl. The moment he’d betrayed her like that, any chance of a reasonable or productive discourse had gone forever. He’d demanded she use her magic on him; she’d never given him permission to do the same.
With that wounded, affronted dignity the girl took a few paces back to the downed deer, and, keeping only half an eye on the Yuan-Ti, she stabbed the beast in its leg. Her reasons might not be clear right away, but they were, in fact, utterly mundane.
With quick, hard, and inexpert stabs and slashes she set about butchering the animal’s haunch from its torso. She wasn’t good at this, and there was a fair amount of blood and splatter as she vented her frustration and spite out on the dead animal – but she needed to separate the leg from the rest of the beast so she at least had something she could take away and eat. She didn’t want to leave empty-handed, but she wasn’t going to take the time to carefully and pristinely butcher the animal whilst this man watched her do it.
If he even did – the optimal outcome, of course, was that he took the hint from the grim set of her expression as she hacked at the carcass and just chose to leave on his own.
(Wordcount: 5105)
|
|
|
|
Post by Malakbel on Jan 28, 2019 19:18:29 GMT
Her insult was like fire to gunpowder, it lightened up his smile just as quickly before, it was a wide as could be those sharp white teeth glimmering under the daylight.
"What? Now you're just talking out of your ass, you fell asleep and you can't admit it. Though if I were to be honest I couldn't really make out your expression through all that fog you conjured, maybe you were actually just about to talk... But I couldn't tell."
He said in the same fashion as before, teasing her. The following just made him brust out into laughter, though it wasn't a genuine, joyful laughter. It was a meaningless one. The label of fake or bitter could be assigned to it, bordering on histerical as such expressions were, but it was a laughter nonetheless. It became clear to him then that this was not as he had believed a girl that had been out on her own for a while, roughed up by the world and tossed aside, learning magic through thievery. She either never had been violated, or had little concept of the crude meaning of the word. It sounded as if it were the first time she felt truly helpeless, or impotent. Or let down by her assumptions, for that matter. In all likelihood she came from a sheltered environment, maybe as an actual wizard's apprentice, and had fled because of reasons. But what were the reasons?
"Sucks to be you, really. Not only you got thoroughly violated, but you also refuse to take anything offered in exchange for it. I'd make a joke about it, but it's pretty plain as it is. You should get back to your teacher, or your home, because if this is the first time you've felt the sting of true impotence, you got lucky so far."
Added, there were two kind of laws in the world for him. The first and most important one was strenght; the world was divided between those that could and those that could not. Everything else was but a play. A performance. But when the chips were down, that was about it. And the second one, he kept to himself. Pride for pride's sake, in the face of profit, was not a logical choice for him, and thus, worthy of being spurned. A smart person would have taken up his offer... and then insulted him if emotions still ran hot.
To him it wasn't such a heartfelt reaction, his own emotions as a Yuan-ti were but tiny embers compared to the burning furnace of regular humans. He saw it as a fundamental flaw they possessed. He gave a last thorough look at the girl, in search of a final hint: Did she had a backpack, or something similar in which to carry things needed for a long journey?
(Current word count: 4751)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2019 18:50:35 GMT
Erato continued to stab and hack at the carcass, until the leg came away with a wet, sickening slurp. She tore the flesh away, and gave a faint mutter as she propped the leg up on her shoulder, flicking her fingers with her free hand, which caused the soaking of blood to simply disappear from her clothing, evaporating away into nothingness in a matter of moments.
Her expression was stony as she cast her gaze back to him and shook her head. There was nothing but contempt in her look, and for a moment, it looked as though she might say something else.
But instead, she just spat on the floor, turned, and walked off into the snowy forest, leaving him along with the mutilated, half-butchered carcass.
She had nothing else to say.
(Wordcount: 5238 - I'm happy to end there unless you want to do another post, let me know!)
|
|
|
|
Post by Kai Wren on Feb 5, 2019 18:02:10 GMT
Closing this thread down - 950 xp for Naizelos, 1050 xp for Erato.
|
|
