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Post by Darkom on Sept 4, 2010 3:31:45 GMT
Ja'Rashi merely shook his head, yellow eyes staring but not seeing, barely hearing the other Khajiit's words. None of them knew what was happening. None of them knew why Dremora were attacking. None of them knew what was going on inside him.
Ja'Rashi sighed; he was never one for deep contemplation, thinking everything through to a logical end. He preferred action, hard and fast, and usually with a bit of blood on the side. Divine mysteries swirled about him, and all he could think of was finding something to drink. Something strong.
"I'm not hungry," he murmered, "But I could use a drink." The Khajiit stood, wincing at the wine and stew soaking into the inn's rug, and started for the door. "Mind unlocking it now, I think I-" Ja'Rashi collapsed against the wall, the red fury inside him lashing out in shock. His breath froze in his throat, and the room dimmed as the booming voice let loose a fearsome cry. He could make out no words, but the message was clear. His Lord was not happy.
Ja'Rashi fell to the floor, caught between the burning red voice and the chilling numb of blackness. He was dimly aware of his own screams, ripping past his throat and into the small room.
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Post by shadow666 on Sept 4, 2010 3:40:08 GMT
As the dremora spoke, Nina's gaze turned into a death glare especially when he called the princes cowards. Her hands balled into fists to hear such betrayal from the creatures who had served their masters since the dawn of their creation.
"I thought your kind were such prideful creatures" Nina said using the daedric language, as it seemed the dremora ignored the paladin when she tried talking to it.
"You think that this new found power is worth the betrayal of the very beings that created you? at least i have enough honour to follow Mephala till this body's heart beats its last beat, and breaths its last breath." She concluded and spat in his general direction. It was then she noticed the same veins growing on the old man. It seemed that there was something else about them she didnt quite understand yet, but knew that there must be a reason so many wanted to join this cause.
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Post by Vrek on Sept 4, 2010 4:48:58 GMT
Like all good plans, the summoning fell apart at the very first opportunity. It took all of Almar's discipline to not fire at the black tendrils, and even more so did he barely resist firing at the Dremora that appear, instead of the expected scamp. The old man wouldn't have changed his plan without telling the others, so he didn't intend to pull the Dremora over. What did this mean to summons? Was it only for Dagon's Realm, or for all advanced conjuration? Use of daedric summons were rare among Almar's clan, though he occasionally skirmished against a Khajiit hedge wizard or two. Perhaps they would experience some havoc.
The Dremora didn't seem intent on striking; not this moment at least. Which was thankful, as the longer the old man stayed prone, the more vulnerable a target he seemed. Even with Selene right above him, it was too likely that the Daedra could strike unexpectedly.
A bead of sweat rolled down Almar's cheek as the Dremora sat across from the battlemage. As the droplet slipped into the corner of the archer's mouth, did he realize how far back he was holding his bowstring. He almost had to admit to himself that he did not truly understand what was happening: the summoning gone wrong, the Dremora's odd armor and odder demeanor. Not understanding made him nervous.
With the Dremora sitting, he was less of an immediate threat, Alamr eased his bowstring forward, until it was at the point that he could easily fire at the Daedra, while not being so taxing on his arms; his shoulder already felt sore.
Then the assassin stepped forward. She was speaking Dremora-tongue. Almar understood bits of it, though he was far from fluent, and the woman spoke just a tad too quickly for him to catch everything. But tone and stance told wonders. She was insulting a dangerous enemy, who was willingly telling them vital information. Fool girl. For a follower of the Prince of Lies, she was far too proud and direct for any of their sakes.
Before the woman's brief speech was even half over, Almar tightened his aim, right at the creature's nearest eye, and pulled the arrow just a bit further back. If the Dremora so much as decided it was tired of sitting, it would be taking a nice sharp bone arrow with it back on to it's own plane.
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Post by Vicorva on Sept 4, 2010 7:01:33 GMT
The silver woman trotted along behind him with her head bowed; her attempts at disappearing had failed. She shuddered as she remembered his swift action, and pressed light fingers to her sore arm, remembering the way feathers had run beneath her skin in panic. It must be close, now, to the time of danger.
She closed her eyes; perhaps it was better then, that this new 'master' had arrived to take her place. She had always known that she might not be able to serve them forever. She would return to Ocato, serve him, and lend him her unseen protection from the enemies that had penetrated his inner circle.
Provided, of course, this man released her.
He stopped, raising a hand to stop her in her tracks, and sniffed the air, closing his eyes. A smile, cold and expectant spread across his lips, arrogant and attractive in a scarred and weathered face.
"They're playing with summoning now?" he shook his head slowly, smile undiminished. "If only magekilling was part of the contract; I'd probably save the rest of them some trouble."
He glanced back at the silver and gold figure of the mounted Ephemera. "I'm done with you," he said dismissively. "I know their destination; that's enough to be getting on with. Give me your horse and crawl back to whatever pathetic 'God' you worship and whine for forgiveness. If you want it back, I may leave it at Cheydinhal. Then again, I may not. But I don't want to see you, ever again unless I call for you."
Ephemera's lips tightened, but she dismounted smoothly, skirts swirling around her legs. Xavier mounted the golden horse and rode off towards the group, guiding the horse with his legs, as his hands were busy with the resting at his side, arrow knocked and ready.
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Post by FC4 on Sept 4, 2010 10:56:17 GMT
Malinus looked down at his hands, seeing what Selene saw; the briefest flicker of black veins on the back of his hands, that began to recede. But from the Dremora's words Malinus knew what was happening. He shared the taint.
"The power consumes and reshapes Oblivion... so that's how you survive while your Prince dies." Malinus murmured. "You become changed at your very core, no longer tied to your Lord, but the Prince Killer. And the realm is still present, just changed... I must have skirted only the outside of the realm, that still being forged." Malinus looked up from his hands to the Dremora, a curious wonder in his eyes.
But Mehrunes Dagon isn't dead, only confined within a Khajiit... But that alone may be enough to consider him gone. "That's how the Princes are killed, isn't it? The power that reshapes Oblivion begins to alter their realm, and it weakens them." Malinus asked.
"I thought your kind were such prideful creatures" Nina said using the daedric language.
"You think that this new found power is worth the betrayal of the very beings that created you? at least i have enough honour to follow Mephala till this body's heart beats its last beat, and breaths its last breath." She concluded and spat in his general direction.
Malinus remembered enough Dremora dialect to manage to understand most of what she said, and he looked over to her disapprovingly. When he looked back to the Dremora he added to her statement. "She has a point; why did you turn from your Lord Mehrunes Dagon? I understand now about the state of the Realm, and possibly how the 'immortal' Prince could have been destroyed, but why would your kind join the Crusade, as you call it?" Malinus asked these questions in an attempt to return the Dremora's focus to him, and away from Nina. She just insulted its pride, a dangerous thing, and he was learning valuable information. He had to keep the Dremora talking, not fighting.
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Post by sibera on Sept 5, 2010 7:08:05 GMT
Ji'zahd shot up off his chair as soon as Ja'rashi entered his little tirade once more, like a lightening bolt he was over there and gripping the khajiit. "hey, HEY calm down!" he spoke , his mind racing on what was going on with him. He assumed the khajiit was experiencing something from Dagon inside and looked about. Suppress, suppress.. how the hell do you suppress a god...or even part? he thought. Treat it like a possession... we have dealt with a few... maybe suppress the possession until I can get my grimoire or even grab that battlemage or heck.. Tamara she would know.. maybe something that can be alittle more permanent.. like a wearable charm..
He placed both hands on the khajiit and began to speak in an odd manner, something akin to aldmeris as he recalled the techniques the psijic had taught. His hands began to glow white as he tried to put a temporary barrier around the part of the deadra within Ja'rashi. it would be akin to a cage, a cage that if needed could feed off Ji'zahd's will power to maintain the effectiveness.
ooc: Just trying something. If it works it works if not.. well I think Ji'zahd might get mind raped xD
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Post by DarkNova50 on Sept 6, 2010 2:55:02 GMT
Selene cringed when she heard Nina speak using the Daedric tongue; it was offensive enough, hearing one of the denizens of Oblivion using that foul language. But to hear a mortal, a Human being, utter those strange, incomprehensible noises...it was nearly enough to turn the Paladin's stomach.
Despite the obviously condascending tone of her speech, however, and the little display she put on afterwards, the Dremora didn't seem angry. It didn't even seem upset. Still sitting, it merely turned its head towards Nina. Its crimson eyes narrowed into slits, and one of the most unsettling smiles Selene had ever seen crept across the creature's face.
"Clever mouth," the beast replied in its own language. "I wonder how clever you will be when your beloved Mephala lies dead at the feet of our Master, and Oblivion runs red with her blood."
With that, the Dremora turned its attention back towards Malinus, a more neutral expression returning to its face. "Mehrunes Dagon was no longer worthy of leading us. So many failed conquests suffered under his 'leadership,' so many lost chances for triumph. When I saw him die, the immortal Prince of Destruction felled, I knew-"
The Dremora's eyes widened. The veins beneath its skin pulsed and widened as it turned frantically towards the inn.
Selene readied her blade.
"Impossible..." it muttered, staring at the wooden building. The beast sprang up from the ground, and Selene made ready to strike.
"How is this possible!?" the creature screamed, showing its first sign of rage as it glared down at Malinus.
"How can Mehrunes Dagon be here!?"
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Post by FC4 on Sept 6, 2010 3:40:10 GMT
He felt him?! So there is still a tie... Malinus thought as he calmly watched the spectacle of the Dremora, as it screamed baffled anger at him. For some reason inexplicable, he felt confident the Dremora would not harm him and did not instantly reply.
Rather, the aged man got up with a cracking and popping of bones, groaning slightly, and steadying himself with his staff. It was a show, though -and one he was quite talented at- to make him seem worse-for-wear than he was. Once he was steadied, the elder returned the Dremora's glare with a stone cold expression.
"I know not. How can I summon you when I meant for a Scamp? How can you destroy one whose very sphere of influence upon the world is destruction itself?" Malinus returned, face grim. "I began to summon in search of answers. You have provided some, and made more. I did not expect you to know everything; you are a daedroth, not the Et'ada themselves. Mehrunes Dagon exists, somehow, within his followers upon Mundus. I can only theorize that perhaps he, unlike Molag Bal, Prince of Rape and Enslavement, has too great a sphere to be simply killed."
Now it was his turn to be the talker, and the Dremora the listener, and Roberto intended to make very good use of it. He moved now, stepping to within two feet of the Dremora and between the creature and the inn.
"I will not pretend to fully comprehend the Daedra, Aedra, or Et'Ada. No mortal can. But from what I gather, the Princes are the embodiments of their spheres of influence. And destroying the sphere of destruction sounds rather hard to me." Malinus continued with a nod towards Nina, his eyes speaking more than his mouth. Get ready, he may get violent.
"Your Crusade, in and of itself, strikes me as a revolution of Oblivion, a destruction of the old to make way for the new. An aspiration which, according to my studies, is representative of Mehrunes Dagon's very own nature. But, if you have any better ideas, I am open to them." Malinus spread his arms out in a gesture of openness.
"Because I am as confused as you, warrior." Malinus concluded with the address of warrior; generic and unoffensive to one such as a Dremora.
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Post by shadow666 on Sept 7, 2010 0:15:50 GMT
Nina glared at the creature when it seemed to be unnaffected by her speech, especially the words she had spoken.. Which mean some things had indeed been changed within the daedra mentally as well. But his respose to her words seemed to have ticked the assassin off considerably.
Her hand moved to her belt with her throwing knives, as he continued to speak to Malinus before suddenly springing to his feet looking at the inn where her worshipper companion was in. from the looks of things it knew that his old Lord was still alive and spoke confirming this. His rage finally appeared and Nina smiled.
"And it seems that he isnt dead yet.. Whats the matter, afraid hes going to destroy you for turning away from him? It looks like he can't be killed as easily as you thought" She added to the old man's words, all the while ready for the dremora to attack
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Aulakauss
Waker
WARNING: Active Toaster Area
Posts: 194
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Post by Aulakauss on Sept 9, 2010 0:01:29 GMT
Bracing herself, Karst stood back as Malinus performed the summon, watching in awe as the Dremora came forth and spoke. The drunken feline stood, listening intently with childlike curiosity; she'd never gotten to speak to a Dremora before. As such, when Nina turned straight to insults, in the creature's own tongue no less, Karst quickly became offended, whirling around to point her finger in the woman's face. "You.. are in the presence of a Daedra that rarely takes the time to speak with mortals, and when this one honors us with that, you insult him?" Karst hissed quietly, glaring. Turning back away from the assassin, she crossed her arms, leaving her ears back a notch and tail switching, "Idiot woman.." Though perturbed, Karst continued to listen to the Dremora, and to Malinus, all up until the Daedra yelled in rage. Malinus, to his credit, put up a good effort for calming him. "Merrunz? But they tol' me he been killed.. 'Er ya sure?" Karst managed in spite of her current state. She paused a moment, then adopted a bewildered expression, "Wait.. y'mean, here here? As in.. nearby?" ~-----~ Tamara could feel the effects of the rum prickling at her fingertips, the warmth in her gut that spread slowly to her extremities as mild intoxication set in and she sighed, content if but for now. The drink had relaxed her slightly in mind and body, setting her at ease so she could meditate. But where to do so? A jump spell, combined with slowfall to ease the landing impact on her old bones, got her to the roof of the inn where she peered off into the dark trees around the inn. She looked and listened until she heard something. Sounds of water, different from that of the Rumare nearby, running rather than sitting. Hopping from her perch to the ground, she strode off, using her staff for support on the uneven ground, towards the source of the sound. A short trek off into the woods revealed a small creek running towards the Rumare, far from people whose minds could cloud her own. Slipping free of her robes, the elderly cat smiled at the feeling of the cold on her skin. After a brief bath in the creek, she climbed onto a rock and sat, legs crossed and hands in her lap. As she dried off, Tamara opened her mind to the world around her, letting her constantly maintained barriers fall, and relaxed fully for the first time in months.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Sept 9, 2010 1:48:36 GMT
Foolish old man. Do you always prattle on this much?[/b] The voice that spoke would be audible only to Malinus, made possible by the Battlemage's recent connection to the same energies that now coursed through both Dagon's and Bal's realms.
Influences and spheres, Aedra and Daedra...your theories are almost as antiquated and useless as you are. The Crusade is merely a means to an end...a new order. One where the universe as you understand it ceases to be.[/b]
Still caught in the throes of its rage, the Dremora turned towards Nina. Just as it appeared ready to speak, however, the beast cried out suddenly in pain. The veins that ran beneath its skin widened, new tendrils branching away before the eyes of those watching. The Daedra's eyes faded from red to solid Onyx, and spoke in a voice not its own, a voice that echoed in tandem with the one still within Malinus' mind.
"Whatever echo remains of Dagon is of no consequence," the 'Dremora' said, still facing Nina as 'it' spoke. "We already possess what we require of both him and Bal. And if he interferes... The Dremora's face twisted as if manipulated by some outside force, an unnaturally wide grin manifesting itself upon the creature's face. "I will simply finish the job I started."
"Hear me, mortal vanguard of Tamriel, for I am the Onyx Crusader! The time of Divines and Daedra has ended! Submit to me as these ones have, and revel in the shadow of my triumph!"
"Enough!" Selene roared, dashing forward and driving her blade through the Dremora's exposed neck. Black blood erupted from the Daedra's mouth as collapsed, the Paladin's blade still lodged in the beast.
"You are weak," the creature muttered to the group, even despite the weapon in its throat. "You are powerless.
And soon you will all be mine."
____________________________ ____________________________
It's mind was open; the walls around the thing's mind had fallen, and of its own volition. The untapped potential therein was laid bare, made visible.
Without resistance, he entered her mind. Sifting through emotions, memories, a name...
Tamara?
Wasted on a creature so short lived.
But there was potential. It could be reforged, just as the other one had.
A key to fit the lock.
"You could be very useful to me, little Tamara."
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Post by shadow666 on Sept 9, 2010 3:20:20 GMT
Nina couldn't seem to look away as whatever was controlling the daedra's mind, spoke to her with such words.. And the power she could sense from whatever was seeping through thi creature was unbelievable. His words seemed sound, and the meaning absolute.. if Selene hadn't attacked it, Nina may have fell underneath whatever the thing was trying to weave, by simply locking eyes with her.
With the connection broken, Nina had fallen to her knees.. The eyes.. they were nothing like the assassin had ever seen before.. what was more shocking was what she saw within It seemed that she was the only one affected by it, as the creature only seeemed to lock eyes with her.. as if it knew of her connection. That thought alone made her shudder uncontrollably.
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Post by FC4 on Sept 9, 2010 11:43:22 GMT
Malinus wanted to know more, wanted more information, but the Dremora turned away, towards Nina, and began a horrific transformation. The tendrils along it's skin widened and branched out, seeming to cover his body, as the voice rang powerfully in the Battlemage's mind. Similar, smaller and thinner veins pulsed along Malinus' arms, as the chilling cold of the power manipulated to create the voice ran through him. The Dremora was reduced to an onyx eyed, dark creature, and spoke in a new tone, having some sort of effect on Nina.
Malinus wanted more information, but this had gone too far now. It had to stop. Selene's blade speared through the Dremora's throat, and Malinus felt nothing; proof evermore that he had no more connection to the Daedra than any other he didn't summon. He could not just cut off the summon.
"You are weak," the creature muttered to the group, even despite the weapon in its throat. "You are powerless. And soon you will all be mine."
A Daedra speaking through a pierced throat was enough for the elder, and he held his staff tight in his left while thrusting his right hand forward, focusing magical energies down his arm. "Strike him down, everyone! I will dispell him!" Malinus ordered sharply, violet light coruscating under the sleeve of his robe and across his leather bracers to gather in his palm.
The warmth of the magical energy was also mixed with a chilled force, a finely added ingredient to his power that gave wisps of shadow to his violet sorcery. And as Malinus threw forth his arm, casting out the bolt of unwoven, unaltered magicka, he could see the tendrils of shadow in his own spell. The bolt of dispelling energy slammed into the Daedra skewered on Selene's blade, seeking to overwhelm any magical aspects upon the beast, including its tie to Mundus.
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Post by Vrek on Sept 13, 2010 3:18:55 GMT
As soon as the command left Malinus' lips, Almar's arrow shot from a tree nestled against the wall of the inn. Unfortunately, that put Malinus and Selene between himself and the Dremora, but it did offer a straight shot for the Dremora's face. This arrow was aimed straight at the Daedra's left eye. A few moments after, another arrow shot out. This one was less tactfully aimed, a quick shot fired only with the intent to hit the Dremora, without striking any of his allies.
Almar slipped a third arrow into his bowstring, and quickly pulled the string in line with his ear. By all logic, the first arrow should end it. But, logically, the monster shouldn't be able to speak with a gaping wound in it's throat, so the Bosmer chose instead to leave nothing to chance.
Mehrunes Dagon was still alive? And he was here? Almar quickly subdued the stray thoughts by pulling the bowstring even tauter. There would be time for questions and analysis later. He was sure that his mind would be racing a mile minute soon, but first he needed to ensure that the Dremora was banished first. A satisfying scrape and slam sounded as the arrow shot from his hiding place.
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Post by webster52402 on Sept 13, 2010 4:45:41 GMT
As all this was happening, Wilfric had managed to set up his tent at long last. Things were simmering down, somewhat... At least as far as he could tell. From his position, he was not able to see nor hear the others in their battle with the foolishly summoned Daedra. He was, however, in a position to hear the scream that ripped from Ja'Rashi, in the inn above: He had chosen his location near their window for a reason.
Snapping his gaze up to the window, he frowned deeply. The cat was awake... He was hoping to kill him when he was sleeping, but it looked like that was no longer an option. He had to move now, if he was going to do this.
"Recall!" Wilfric cast, his body glowing with a light pink glow. In an instant, he found himself in Ja'Rashi's room once more, standing where he had cast Mark before, upon entering the room. A short distance away, Ja'Rashi was lying on the floor, with that templar cat hovering over him... Well, he couldn't allow him to be helped. Unless 'help' came in the form of relieving him of Mehrunes Dagon's presence entirely.
Wilfric's left hand - for the nobleman was left handed - dropped down to his side, withdrawing the silver dagger there. "Step aside." Wilfric commanded, approaching the pair. His eyes were on the templar alone, for now: He was the only one that was even slightly dangerous to him. Ja'Rashi, squirming on the floor, would fall easily enough. "He's dangerous..."
The blade of his dagger winked ominously in the light as he approached, lifting it into a defensive stance across his chest. Daggers were normally used for parrying alone, rather than outright combat... but Wilfric was trickier than that.
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