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Post by Vicorva on Oct 16, 2008 18:27:45 GMT
Semira continued to shake as Perur spoke, but at his words about 'one in constant fear', she was shaking in rage, not fear. She turned on him, eyes snapping to his face like a viper to its prey. "Speak for you [censored] self!" she snarled, eyes flashing in an almost demonic light.
The sleep had done much for her energy levels, and unlike Perur, she was a mage. She willed her wounded leg healed, and it did so. She got to her feet, ignoring the searing pain that accompanied her still-healing wounds, and stalked over to the door down as if nothing was wrong.
But something is wrong... she thought. Something is very wrong...
Because just then she had wanted to show Perur the real meaning of fear. Something you couldn't get over- and something he would never recover from. She wanted him to watch as she cut off each of his fingers, wanted to see him deal with the fear of that, of being completely defenseless.
She shook her head, red hair falling completely free of its pins now to fall all around her. Ragged as it was from all that had happened, it was still long and sleek, reaching psat her waist in length,
"I'm getting off of this Gods forsaken island, if I have to swim my way out." she stared at Perur, a horrifyingly empty expression on her face, her voice little more than an inhuman growl. "You can sit here and get used to all this [censored] madness yourself." She grabbed the rope in her much-strengthened arms and put the rope between her ankles and began the slow slide down to the ground, disappearing from ship level within moments.
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 16, 2008 18:45:49 GMT
Perur remained still, holding the now empty mug in his hands silently as he listened to Semira's harsh words. He was speaking for himself, actually, because he was the one that had been consistently confronted with what he considered his greatest fear, which even now left an iron grip around his heart every time that he thought of that woman as she exploded out of the river, of the sheer, sick joy that she had shown as she had looked upon the terrified assassin, and of the Kraken that had rose from the deep, threatening to drag everyone of those aboard down, down, into the crushing abyss...
His head snapped up as Semira left the treehouse, turning his gaze at last towards the door. His mouth hung loosely open, wanting to say something to the retreating woman, but there was nothing to really do... Instead, he just focused on her back as she vanished over the edge of the abyss, down to the forest below. Not only was she still rather scantily clad, but now she was bound and determined to actually SWIM off the island? He didn't know just how serious she was with that, just how true she had believed her words to be, but if she attempted something like that...
"She's going to get herself killed out there." Perur said, almost matter-of-factly, turning his gaze slowly back to the mug to return to his thoughts. He didn't bother trying to get up and chase after her. Doing so would only injure himself more, and the last thing that he wanted to do was to return to that cursed forest, where the water lived, and where it would destroy him if at all possible. A bitter irony it was, that the man that had told her that she would get used to fear wouldn't return to try and save her, simply because of that fear.
His eyes closed, trying to will himself to forget about her. Foolish woman... If she died out there... She deserved it. At least, that was what he told himself.
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 16, 2008 22:38:07 GMT
Semira hit the ground on shaky legs, but that didn't stop her from going. She wasn't sure just what had come over her, but the burning, unquenchable desire to do, to effect her own escape, was over-coming her.
She had done her best to save herself on Murrin's ship, but had only got herself wounded. She had done her best to save Perur as well, although why she had bothered completely eluded her at that moment.
It's not like he's anything special... she thought. It's not like any of them are anything special. Just mundane, boring individuals going along their mundane, boring lives... you'd think this ridiculous island of nightmares would inject some reason into them, but no, they just continue on thinking their better than every-freaking-one else... just like they've always done...
She marched on through the forest, making her way as best as she could towards the beach, but her scrambled and confused mind was instead taking her to the volcano. Where all these emotions were coming from, she didn't know. On a dim level, she recognised that she usually tried to keep these feelings under wraps... that they were yet another thing that set her apart.
But now that she allowed herself to feel them... the rage, the bitterness, the disdain for all life...
Well, the world made a lot more sense.
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Post by Vrek on Oct 16, 2008 23:51:06 GMT
Jacen nodded, accepting the bird's answer. He knelt closer to the water, and brought several more handfuls of water to his mouth. The water was fresh and soothing, and did seem to revitalize him. Even the pain biting into his side seemed to dull to a more tolerable level.
He bent even closer, and splashed a bit of water into his face, and rubbed away at the dirt and dried blood.
Finished, Jacen rose to his feet, looking at the colorful bird. "Where should I go now... and who is 'she'?"
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Post by FC4 on Oct 17, 2008 2:54:44 GMT
Jacen "Head west, find the Imperial of the wilds. He knows much of this place, and is key to your freedom." The bird sang, extending it's neck towards Jacen delicately.
"She... she is the master of this- Quwaaaaaa!" It was a melodious yet ear-grating sound that emitted from the beautiful being as its head whipped back in pain, wings unfolding. From the chest of the avian jutted out a vine-like object as thick as a fist, thorns the length of a finger sticking from it. The tip was like a vicious hunter's arrow, teeth locking it in place. Blood that glimmered in a variety of colors streamed from the bird as it began to slump.
"Ru.... run my child... run..." The bird's voice was weaker now, and it tried in vain to flap its wings to escape, only to be pulled back into a tree forcefully. Branches began to crack and bend, the tree seeking to embrace the bird.
Around Jacen, a breath of life seemed to come to the plants, as grass began to grow at an alarming rate and bushes uprooted, wobbling before skittering like spiders towards him.
The forest had come alive, and it was hardly friendly.
Wildman The man continued to hold the warm mug out to Semira, but she ignored him and the mug completely, giving out an angered, irrational rant before heading off into the forest in barely anything but a thin shirt. She'd forgotten in her apparent rage to even clothe herself, let alone arm herself.
"Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira leave, she die to elementals." He said aloud, more to himself than to Perur, though he was looking at the assassin at the time. He looked at the mug, then tipped its contents back into his throat as if it were nothing, an odd looking act considering he was crouched at the time as well. Tossing the mug to the side he grabbed a spear leaning on the wall, swung a flask of water over his shoulder, slipped a stone axe onto the rope belt he wore, and then grabbed another spear, lashing this one onto his back along with the flask.
He moved with ease as he prepared for primitive war, and stopped at the door, looking back to Perur. "Scaredy-man stay here. No leave or elemental come. I come back with Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira." He said flatly, no-questions, and then jumped backwards off the ledge, grabbing the rope and swinging, using it to send him into a tree nearby.
Spear in one hand and steadying himself on the branch with the other, he looked east as a crackling came faintly in the air. "Orima..." He whispered, before turning around and looking at the ground. A fleeing form. That had to be her, as she couldn't likely get far on her own in the dense forests. He leaped through the trees like an oddly shaped monkey, following Semira as she went.
"She go to Palace, not sand-land!" He suddenly cried out in revelation, before grabbing a vine and swinging down swiftly to the ground, coming around and landing feet in front of Semira, holding his spear like a block to her path. There was a wild, impassioned blaze in his eyes. "Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira stop!"
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 17, 2008 3:59:42 GMT
Scaredy man... Those words rung through Perur's mind, his grip on the mug in his hands tightening. Scaredy-man? Was that what that wild man thought of him? Well sorry, not all of us could be fearless, half-crazy wildmen with linguistic problems! Not all of us could shrug off our fears by gripping a damn spear, and deciding to stand up to some elemental bitch! Not everyone could do something like that, and win!
*CRUNCH*
The mug gave way in Perur's grip as his hand tightened even further, the metal shell collapsing in on itself with an audible groan. Perur barely even noticed, or cared, that the warm liquid that had been remaining in the mug now ran down his hand to drip onto the floor beneath him, simply focusing on that insult. The thought that an assassin like he, having fought and killed countless people, was afraid of a bit of water... Or 'elementals', as the wild man had put it.
With a low growl, Perur tossed the twisted remains of the mug aside, struggling to his feet. Pain, bitter, bitter pain, washed over him in droves from straining his wound, but he didn't care. He was going to find something here, he was going to do SOMETHING. Grab one of the spears? No, he was no good with a spear. Required too much balance, he'd have to use both hands. There were no swords apparent... But there WAS a door on one side of the ship.
He wasn't sure where it led... But still, Perur limped his way in that direction, bound and determined to arm himself.
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Post by Vrek on Oct 17, 2008 5:26:20 GMT
Jacen moved forward, reaching for the bird when the thorns burst through it's chest. He stopped short when he was about to wade through the river towards it, when it pleaded him to run. He hesitated, his arm still outstretched. The bird was pulled deeper into the tree, covered from sight by moving branches.
"I... I'm sorry." He said, still using the tropical song. The tune had a morbid feel to it, relaying his sorrow. He turned and ran, following the most open path he could, sneaking one last look at the odd bird that gave it's life to help save his.
Following the pseudo-trail, the Bosmer dodged every frond and leaf in his way. Eventually, he saw something he could use: A decent patch of sunlight. He didn't yet know which way west was, but it was still morning, so whatever way his shadow was cast would be west. Jacen skidded to a stop, only long enough to pull out an arrow and hold it in the sunlight. As soon as he saw the way the shadow pointed, he sprinted that way, whilst dropping the precious arrow back into his quiver.
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RavenVW
Novice
I am an agent of chaos. And you know the good thing about chaos? It's fair.
Posts: 45
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Post by RavenVW on Oct 19, 2008 21:38:53 GMT
ValkienEven after nightfall when Valkien had stopped to rest (OOC: Just to keep you with us in time scale, Raven. ) the rocks seemed to always shift about him, making cracking and shifting sounds with no end in sight. As a result he'd gotten next to no sleep, and therefore did not dream. he simply continued his walk as the sun rose slowly on the horizon. He didn't get far, though, before the rocky area began its musical anew. The frequency of the cracking increased, and a rumble cut through the air, cut short by an abrupt crack. Eerie silence followed, before another crack, then another and another. If Valkien turned towards the sound, he would find the ground on the path he'd once walked in an upheaval of cracking stones, rising erratically in jagged sections of earth. This sped towards him before stopping, everything falling silent. Valkien turned and his hands glew bright with flames. Though he was silent and calm, a small bead of sweat trickled down from his forehead onto and his eyes, where it stung as he blinked rapidly. Though he was tired, there was no way what he was seeing was merely a result of his senses being deprived. There were rocks there, jagged, sharp rocks, where he had just walked. He had gone over normal ground there, he knew it; either this was some bizarre earthly phenomenon, or the result of powerful magic, magic he had never heard of before. His mind went with the latter option. "Who goes there?" He called, looking around nervously. "Show yourself."
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Post by FC4 on Oct 19, 2008 22:08:16 GMT
Jacen Following the swift bosmer through the forest, the plants seemed to spring to life in his wake. Bushes uprooted, vines whipped out, and trees began to shudder. It seemed an entire forest sought to trail the bosmer on his path.
While he was heading in the proper general direction, his quick reading had been somewhat off, and he had ened up heading more towards the northwest, rather than the west.
And in a short time, the different between the forest and the marsh would become very noticeable. He was heading right into the swamps.
Valkien The world around the magician was silent to his response, words echoing off the gorge walls in the distance. For a moment, it seemed nothing was happening or going to happen. This brief illusion was shattered by the sound of shifting rock and grinding stone.
From below. The sound was originating from below the ground. The earth rumbled again as the fissure shifted forward and too one side. Rapidly the cracks and jutting rocks ran a path along the side of the gorge wall, before bursting out without warning, debris flying from the explosion in a cloud of dust.
As the dust cleared, a form stood between Valkien and the forest. Well... more like protruded from the stone wall in a long, thick existence. It was best described as a worm as thick around as a portly man, and yet it was no worm known to common man. It's flesh was rough and ragged, giving it a stony texture, and the head was essentially a part of the body with a mouth. Five triangular muscled flaps of flesh pulled away like a blooming flower to reveal three rows of sharp mandible-like teeth and a small throat. From this hideous maw emitted a guttural growl not unlike the rumble of a rock slide.
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 22, 2008 20:24:12 GMT
Semira charged right past the Wildman without fluttering an eyelash at him. Either he would move out of the way, or she would charge right through him: she could be quite solid when she wanted to be, armour or no.
She wasn't interested in being a part of whatever madness was on that island, alone, without friends, with nothing but her own thoughts for company. She wanted away from all of it, away from the constant reminders of what she was.
Of what she feared. She feared herself. And it was hard, too hard, to deal with constantly.
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Post by FC4 on Oct 24, 2008 14:58:47 GMT
Wildman The man had other ideas, however, and while he did not move, he proved much stronger than expected, and Semira failed to plow over him. Rather, she somewhat shoved the man forward, and his bare feet slid across the ground as he tried to keep in front of her, being pushed back some.
"Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira no!" He cried out again, but he could feel the heat rising, and knew he had failed. Around them the temperature in the forest began to rise, but not that stuffy, overly humid variety of heat. It was simply heat.
Without warning shrubbery around them burst into flames, and the man whirled around to face the direction of the volcano, his spear held point out. The fire began to propagate around them, their flanks awash with heat. "Now you done it. Shar angry!" The man cried out, just as a figure began to walk out of the fires ahead of them.
It was black, charred so deeply it reminded one of the color of ash, and the form was thinner than healthy. There was a hunch to the figure as it moved, and an ashen tail moved behind it, as the double jointed legs swiftly and steadily moved the burned body forward. The head lifted, and two sparkles of white where eyes should have been glared at the two. It looked like a Khajiit. And yet.... there was no way it could be, as fire engulfed its body like fur, and each step set the underbrush nearby alight.
It stopped a yard from the two, and gave out a cackle like Khajiit with a sore throat.
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RavenVW
Novice
I am an agent of chaos. And you know the good thing about chaos? It's fair.
Posts: 45
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Post by RavenVW on Nov 3, 2008 18:19:44 GMT
ValkienThe world around the magician was silent to his response, words echoing off the gorge walls in the distance. For a moment, it seemed nothing was happening or going to happen. This brief illusion was shattered by the sound of shifting rock and grinding stone. From below. The sound was originating from below the ground. The earth rumbled again as the fissure shifted forward and too one side. Rapidly the cracks and jutting rocks ran a path along the side of the gorge wall, before bursting out without warning, debris flying from the explosion in a cloud of dust. As the dust cleared, a form stood between Valkien and the forest. Well... more like protruded from the stone wall in a long, thick existence. It was best described as a worm as thick around as a portly man, and yet it was no worm known to common man. It's flesh was rough and ragged, giving it a stony texture, and the head was essentially a part of the body with a mouth. Five triangular muscled flaps of flesh pulled away like a blooming flower to reveal three rows of sharp mandible-like teeth and a small throat. From this hideous maw emitted a guttural growl not unlike the rumble of a rock slide. What the- The worm was unlike anything he had seen before, it looked deadly. Hell, half of his mind -probably the better half- wanted to run, to get as far away from that thing as he possibly could. But he doubted he could outrun this thing, not how he was at the moment, thirsty, hungry, exhausted. The list went on, much better to at least try to scare it off. The flames that had already begun wrapping themselves around his fists were suddenly expelled towards the beast, each flame spiralling towards it with speed and accuracy not unlike an arrow. Only after flinging these did he realise something that annoyed him, to say the least. I have no damned sword!
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Post by webster52402 on Nov 5, 2008 14:43:55 GMT
The door creaked open, as Perur placed his hand on where the doorknob would normally have been, pushing it experimentally. The ancient hinges squealed and shrieked their pain at being used again, but open they did. Revealed beyond was a room, faintly lit from a dim light that filtered through the singular porthole that was the only source of sunlight. It was fairly straightforward... Only a bed, and a desk.
Slowly, Perur crossed over to the desk, ignoring the dull throb of his wound that was beginning to follow his heartbeat. It was becoming almost familiar, now, after having gone such distance and undergone such trails with it. And, he most certainly wasn't going to let it stop him from getting his hands on a blade... Which, unfortunately, seemed to be absent on the little desk.
He spied a book there, extending one hand to brush it against its cover ever so slightly. It appeared to be a journal of some kind, the leather bound tome feeling slightly worn beneath his gloved hand... Probably that wild man's, if he could actually write. Though the thought of him picking up a bit of paper and a quill to sit down and actually write intelligently when he could hardly even speak without going in some rambling, half broken sentence, made Perur smile slightly. He could feel some kind of importance in that book...
But he ignored it, his hand drifting down to a drawer that lined the right side of the desk. Perhaps there was something of use in there. A blade, that he had been searching for, perhaps. Or SOMETHING, besides one of those crude, uncompleted spears.
And his persistence was rewarded, as he pulled the drawer open, and spied the telltale glint of silver within. Tilting his head slightly to get a better look, he noted the long, slender point of a dagger blade, gleaming in the faint light of the sun. Perur couldn't help but smile. This dagger was actually of better quality than the one that he had lost... He had certainly gotten lucky. "I should have been a gambling man..." He muttered, as he reached into the drawer...
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