Pirates: Chapter Two

[Solly]

IC: Dart began firing at stray Night Elves as they came over the hill, killing them at a steady rate. They were pathetic, but still showed their insanity by simply rushing into swords and arrows. When a tall blonde man appeared Dart ignored him. It was Keke's fight.

NPC: After realizing that the travelers also hated the Night Elves, Had rushed forward with his sword, now with people to help him. He took out his poleaxe and began beheading at a steady rate. He was too short to be hit by the swords of the mounted elves.

[bozistheboss]

Jergalzad reined his horse next to the bardess... "Forgive my comrades.. they are all rather stressed." He moved to say more, but his gaze was averted by the oncoming Night Elves. Her frowned slightly.

"And the game resumes," he says with a sigh. "What are these, then? The pawns? And... Yes, Lady Keke has found the king. Very well." With a flourish, he replaced his headdress, only his eyes visible now, losing their whimsical twinkle and taking on a much more sinister insensity.

"Forgive me, Madam Stella. I daresay this is not what you expected." He pulled the glove off his left hand, revealing the crystalline, skeletal remains. Pulling his sword free with his right, he leapt off his horse and into the fray..

Whoosh, THUNK. An arm rolled across the grass.. Whoosh, CLANG, a shower of sparks.. CLANG, CLATTER, then the sickening slicing sound of a blade piercing flesh. A cry, then the soft collapse of a corpse hitting the ground. Jergalzad held his skeletal hand above the corpse, several glimmering, ectoplasmic tentacles forming around it, drawing life energy from the victim of Jergalzad's blade. The crystals began to glow. Another elf approached.. Jerg held his cursed arm out, his eyes filled with sadness.. the tentacles wrapped around the man's neck and chest, drawing him forward.. slowly, wrinkles covered his face, his hair turned white.. then the body collapsed, drained of energy.

Jerg shook his head. So, this was the power of Rama Doom, eh? Well, might as well put it to some use.

A flick of the wrist and the tentacles shot forth, spearing yet another would-be attacker. A slashing motion, and another elf fell. Jergalzad's green eyes fell upon the giant viking Keke was engaged in battle with. A spin of Jergalzad's blade placed it in both gloved hand and skeletal. He rushed forward...

[The Lacemaker]

OOC: Time lapse. I'll imagine this takes place by the morning.

IC: Esmeralda

Eyes directed down upon her hands and body, Esmeralda could see herself, in that radiant, glowing and pure hue of skin. “Hold on,” she thought with a fright, “this isn’t right.”

Now in a panicked fluster, Esmeralda realized that dastardly invisibility spell had worn off. And here she stood, in full flesh and blood to her dismay. What was worse was that she had not yet fixed up her façade. With alarm, she subtlety morphed herself, unnoticeable in the shroud of darkness, to a brilliantly pristine, youthful girl. Reminiscent of he own younger days. The days where the Father Time could not touch her beauty, nor the cruelty of the world taint and condemn her juvenility. Weren’t those the days?

The elf recoiled in fear. Was she really that hideous? Was she really so ugly? Esmeralda began to feel a lump in her throat, that lump you would get when you were hurt, pained. “Nice to see I’ve got an admirer,” he murmured with a smirk, “but ‘o the ‘ell are ye?”

She gave a brush to her intricate dress, regaining that feminine demure and composure, even when everything seemed to collapse before her. Rimu staff clutched in her left, and a quick flip of the hair with her right, at once all that remained was that same toothy grin.

“It’s a cheshire cat,” she mused, with lips that moved in elegant O’s and sideways D’s, “and that’s why.”

Her invisible hand slipped into his, and shook it as though he was shaking his hand into the air. It was warm, his hand, much warmer than her own.

At that moment, the wind brought to her the voice of a dwarf. Exhausted and panic-stricken, Esmeralda focused on the man and failed to see the horde, legion of night elves that emerged from over the hills in the distance. “”Had! What are ye doin’ ‘ere?”

“Had, huh,” she ruminated in her mind. Just in the distance, past the glare of the rising sun in her eyes, Esmeralda saw the black mass of things that looked like ants. But as she stood there, wondering what was going on, it became all too clear that these elves flocked and came towards them. The wood elf ran into combat without hesitation, along with the other band members who charged head first towards the battle. Her heart raced. In the little town of Worcester she never felt such excitement. Such adrenaline. Such thrill. Such exhilaration. Such … such delight.

Her eyes narrowed with intent, Esmeralda no longer looked like the smiling, bright, jovial girl. At first it felt awkward. She stood at the summit of the mound and, with eyes closed tightly and an unsure chant, summoned a tremor which shook the landscape. Both friend and foe were put off balance, too late for Esmeralda to realize her tremor would affect everyone. A group of night elves came for her as she screamed and backed away with fear and terror. “Oh Freyja, oh Freyja,” she cried over and over. She tried to fend them off with her long and rigid staff, right until she found herself up against a tree trunk. She looked over to her distant right, where the beautiful white-haired girl seemed to dance with such grace, with such power while she stood here with shaking legs, so weak. They were taunting her. They were playing with her like a rag doll, a pathetic defenseless rag doll. “Come on baby,” they’d say with a sly, slithering whisper. “Don’t be afraid.”

She took her staff in both hands and chanted at the top of her voice. In an instant, a blinding light blurred her sight as she staggered back, breathless. A ball of radiance, brighter than the sun peeking over the horizon. She could see the terrified faces of her opponents, the same fearful face as her own. And she saw as their faces and body disintegrated like dust and into the wind. Esmeralda rubbed her eyes, the world like a smudged canvas. As the light cleared, she could see what immense damage she did. Holy Ball, after all, would be effective against night elves.

Still disoriented from the confrontment, Esmeralda knew she needed to do more. One, by one, by one, by one, they all seemed to swarm like a plague of black. “A plague?”

She closed her eyes and felt her body lifted in the air. She could hear some of them getting closer. Their footsteps, their grunting. She kept her eyes closed tight, trying to finish the spell. Esmeralda called on all the locusts and wind and birds to come to her aid. She called for them with all her desperation. They kept getting closer, closer, closer, until one’s fingers gripped around her neck. She was yanked out of her trance and screamed and cried for help as it held her body close to its, and covered her mouth with its putrid hand.

[Muttsy]

Siren was just as surprised by the accuracy of her shots as this new comers ability to use an axe. He had been fleeing moments before, now he was slicing off heads faster then she could pierce hearts. What an odd little fellow.

Pearl was getting restless and the enemy closer, grabbing her sword she jumped into the fray. Now, she didn't really have the strength to hack a whole head off, but a quick stab to the heart worked just as good. With the foe a little more close and personal she couldn't keep tabs on her freinds as well but Keke seemed to be fighting with a very angry passion, and she could have sworn she saw some sort of tentacle emerge from Jergalzads cursed hand.

They weren't the most difficult of foe, but she was getting slightly overwhelmed with their numbers. They had seemed so few at first, but now they filled the field and seemed to come complete with their own leader; Keke more then happy to deal with that. It didn't help her when the ground suddenly shook knocking her off balance. she fell back, but still fought using her tail as a battering ram to knock some of the dark elves down with her. She struggled like that for a moment before a blinding flash of light engulfed part of the area around her, the few dark elves caught in the light melted away much like a shadow would. It gave her the time to get up, a cry from behind her caught her attention before it was stifiled. She couldn't tell who had let out the scream, but it was quite obvious they were in desperate need of help.

Taking only a second to balance the weight of the short sword in her hand she threw it, piercing the dark elf in the heart. It was really her best effort in the fight so far; the limp body sunk to the ground freeing whomever it was behind it. She was proud of her efforts for a moment before suddenly realizing she had left herself quite weaponless. In such situations there wasn't much one could do other then the following.

"Boys cover your ears!" She called out as loud as she could, hoping they would catch her drift before the dark elves did.

Instead of taking the usual time it took her to warm up into a song, she dived right into it. The melody acted just as quickly, almost like a wave the male dark elves around stopped, swaying in the dream like trance. It would only last for a few moments, but it would be enough to severly lessen their numbers and tip the odds in their favour again; assuming her own male friends had the sense to protect themselves from it.

She didn't have the time to fetch her own sword and she left her bow with Pearl so she scooped up one of the weapons from the fallen bodies and slashed her way through most of them without faltering a single note.

[Qoorl]

Cho'kar had been the first to charge, and he met the tide of warriors head on. As the dark elves bounded into sight, the orc leapt from the saddle. He seemed to almost fly through the air, the Fangs of the Hunter gleamed as he landed behind two of the fanatics in a crouch. Blood erupted from the wounds he had caused and the two men clutched feebly at their necks before collapsing to the earth. Rajah pounced on another of the warriors, tearing at his flesh with razor claws and vicelike jaws.

Now the others had joined the battle in earnest, not that it mattered to the orc, at this point. As he fought, he could feel their emotions more strongly than before, his senses heightened by the conflict; Jergalzad's disgust and interest in his abilities, The dwarf's and the scarecrow's calm detachment, Ervan's rage, yet another newcomer's apprehension and Keke's wildly fluctuating feelings for Ervan. He tried to force their feelings from his mind as he cut hsi way through the crowd. It was to no avail however as the fanatic devotion of the night elves also pounded their way into his body. The orc was nearly overcome by the waves of emotions that buffeted him from everyside. Somewhere in the distance he heard Siren's warning but there was nothing he could do, both hands were a blur as the Fang's of the Hunter severed arteries, veins, and tendons. Then as a second tide of the zealots appeared and Siren's song began to take effect something strange happened.

The emotions reached a fever pitch, he could feel Siren's charms beginning to freeze him, but then he... couldn't? The empathy grew stronger and warmer through him, like the blazing of Daerid's funeral pyre and the Pheonix Pinion at his breast grew hot against his skin. Overcome he let out a bellowing roar that echoed across the battlefield. A great wave of flame errupted from pinion, nearly knocking him down with the force. Fueled by the emotions he had unwillingly gathered it took the shape of some massive bird of prey as swooped across the battlefield, consuming all in it's path. Dozen's of Night Elves were reduced to ash, and had he not been at the forefront, it was likely that his comrades would have been destroyed as well.

As the Phoenix Flame swooped up into the sky and faded, Cho'kar grew cold and numb. All around him seemed to be silence, though he knew their were sounds. Almsot reflexively he turned back to the warriors behind him, and strode forward, killing the warriors his comrades had left behind with chilling calm.

[Keke Le Cat]

OOC: I am not a stickler for semantics... I usually say, “Fuck the semantics.” as a matter of fact. However this is too much for me to take...

NPC: After realizing that the travelers also hated the Night Elves, Had rushed forward with his sword, now with people to help him. He took out his poleaxe and began beheading at a steady rate. He was too short to be hit by the swords of the mounted elves.

He is too short to get hit but he can reach high enough to decapitate? Curious. NO ONE is too short to be hit by a sword!!!

I imagine a dwarf hopping about madly trying to slice heads off while dodging blades... I would like to take this moment to point out the famous line from LOTR, “Dwarves don't jump.” [/gimli]

Also I think the name you gave the character I created is possibly the most retarded name I have ever seen in any language.

If you nickname my viking enemy Corporal Eyepatch McNastyloincloth I will shoot myself in the foot because the agony of a bullet wound would be less grotesque than the great pain of frustration I would feel.

The nickname was funny in the beginning, it was cute, it was original. Now you've taken it too far.

IC: Stella

Stella sat placidly fiddling with her reigns as the others prepared to leave when a hairy little thing appeared running out of no where sweating for all he was worth.

The once-hooded-one reined his horse next to Stella's, "Forgive my comrades... They are all rather stressed." Still no sign of an introduction. She smiled and shook her head. He opened his mouth to say more, but his gaze was averted by an oncoming hoard of Night Elves. He masked himself once more before removing a glove to demonstrate that he was some sort of mage, as well. A lich, by the look of it. Strange. She'd never met a lich before... If he was one he was really rather good at fleshing himself out with magicks. That would bare further investigation later.

She found it highly odd that a stranger would bring an army down on someone (albeit a small army) and receive any welcome at all. Let alone the 'okay, I'll kill them for you then,' mentality these people seemed to take. The emotional elf girl jumped right into battle like a man twice her size, demonstrating a wealth of anger unusual for her race. The one called Siren proved to be the only one of the bunch with any manners at all, at least she had introduced herself right before this fight started. She too leapt into combat without much thought. Stella pursed her lips in thought.

The orc seemed to be some sort of mage as well, he cast a huge fire spell that burned several corpses completely. Curious that so many powerful people should find themselves together, especially with such diverse cultural backgrounds. Mages weren't as common as all that. The Talent ran thin in most gene pools. Perhaps the gods did weave the pattern of Time around this group, to draw so many together.

They must have been serious about an Ending. Stella thought. Of course it couldn't be the Ending...

The End of this age would be a more appropriate title... And come to think of it she really rather liked this age, and wouldn't like to see it End. This had to be the greatest time period of all the ages, such food, art, music, dress... What could possibly match it? Nothing to date, certainly.

There had been other Beginnings and Endings, of course. It was great cockiness to assume that now was the only Time. Other Ragnaröks, other Dawnings of Time had to have occurred... The Great Battle of all the ages, Chaos versus Law. So far as she could make out from the scant recordings in the Royal Library at London Law had always won. I wonder what would happen if Chaos won? Would the force simply unravel the Universe and Unmake time? Well, as curious as she was, she really didn't want to find out.

Do I really want to be part of some epic battle to end all battles? She asked herself.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed the female Night Elf approaching, however when she came within a few feet Stella was pulled from her reverie. “Oh, bother.” She said, holding up a closed fist. When she opened her hand and unfurled her fingers five blue arrows of light shot from her finger tips to rest in the chest of the elf. The woman crumpled, as though her bones had turned to jelly, she fell to the ground, jerking. Boiling blood erupted from every orifice as the corpse spasmed wildly. Stella moved her horse back a few feet to prevent any splatters from marring the pristine white animal's coat.

She wove the necessary magicks to create a great Ball of Lightening, allowing it to hover just before Aldeib's head. She pushed more and more arcane energy into it, bending it to her will, forcing it to seek out only hostile creatures within a certain radius. Stella flung both arms forward, and the Ball Lightening streaked forth with amazing speed and accuracy. Tendrils struck out from it, assaulting enemies all around. Some of the weaker ones fell to the ground spasming as the electricity rocketed through their bodies, others seemed barely fazed. Some were untouched completely as they had not yet noticed Stella, or meant her no harm. The spell had been programmed to injure only those who had malicious thoughts toward it's caster, after all.

Stella couldn't contain the smile as the great Ball of Lightening ricocheted through the clearing, bouncing North, West, East and South before finally disappearing. “Not many mages at court could pull that off. Possibly only two or three, and as many more on the Continent could weave a spell with such deadly accuracy and potency.” She said, leaning forward to pat Aldieb's neck.

[Qoorl]

Perhaps Had didn't know, but he certainly didn't tell them about the mage. As the smoke cleared from the Phoenix's attack. A single night elf strode into view. His skin was darker than the others, almost absorbing the light around him. HIs face was split by a single scar that rode the length of his face, from scalp to chin. The nose was practically nonexistant, simply a pair of nostrils, one on each side of the pale white tear that divided his face. He wore elaborate purple robes, highlighted with vibrant pinks. And though he wielded no physical weapon, he was more than prepared to make his presence known.

"The essence of existence is feeling. Pain and Pleasure are all that matter in this world," though his voice was a whisper, it somehow found itself in the ears of all present, "Great Slaanesh is the master of Pain and Pleasure and we are all his disciples. I will let you worship him by experiencing the gift of Pain"

Then the mage's hands swept wide and a visible pulse rippled across the battlefield. It struck Cho'kar first as he was most unfortunately closer than the others. His body was wracked by pain so intense that it drove the orc to his knees. The wave continued and immense pain struck all who stood on the fields of battle. The remaining night elves seem to revel in it. They screamed with pain but their bodies writhed sensuasly and even when they dropped their weapons from the discomfort, they continued to attack with tooth and nail. The large axewielding man in the eyepatch seemed strangely unaffected by the attack and he conitnued to press his battle against Keke.

[Keke Le Cat]

IC: Stella

Stella had a brief moment to prepare a ward and throw it around herself and Aldieb before the pulsing wave of energy radiated from the Night Elf mage. It was a curious weave designed to cluster on the pain centers in the brain. It took a moment of deep thought before she could decipher a way to unravel it, she held her staff before her and uttered a single harsh syllable. White energy radiated away from the staff, in a circle considerably smaller than the one the Dark Elf had cast. Her energy was low, and she was beginning to feel drained.

She held the staff before her once more, and the end burst into blue flame as it had the night before. The staff itself held no power, of course, it only served as a tool to aid concentration. Things do not have power, people do. Some items are enchanted, but a powerful person had to place that enchantment on the item.

She pulled the staff back and flung the tip forward with a flick of her wrist sending a shower of blue and white flames directly toward the elf mages head.

IC: Keke

Keke stumbled as the pain came crashing home. Her fall to the earth knocked the wind from her chest and the terrible pain racketing her frame prevented her from drawing another breath. When the huge viking's axe came crashing toward her it was all she could do to roll to the side, even so the blade dug into the flesh of her right forearm. She barely noticed the additional pain as every nerve ending seemed to burn wildly.

As the circle of white energy thumped into Keke and the pain released her from its grasp she gulped huge amounts of air, trying to catch her breath. She rolled backward in a ball and came up in a crouch, searching the surrounding area for her weapons. Her arm hurt worse than anything she could have imagined.

When the viking sent the axe forward once more, this time aiming directly for the top of Keke's head, she dodged aside and noticed a deep purple liquid glistening on it's edge. "Poison?" She asked.

His only response was a deep chuckle, and a shake of his head that sent his shaggy blonde mane fluttering about his face.

[Fox]

Dani charged towards the night elves. Her plan was simple: burn down any night elf that dare cross her path.
A rather large one came barreling at her. Taking her dagger out, she threw it into his stomach. He dropped to his kees in pain and held his stomach, coughing up blood.
"I'll just put you out of your misery then." Dani said. setting his dying body on fire. He shreiked, but only for a moment.
Eh, I'll get the dagger later. Dani thought.
Then she saw something. Keke was being attacked (OOC: BY A GIANT TARZAN! AHH!) Dani ran towards Keke and the giant, picking up a rock along the way.
"Hey you big Oaf! Over here!" Dani yelled, chucking the stone at the Giant's head.

[Qoorl]

The night elf raised his arms, covering his face from the flames. They struck, scorching away the sleeve of his right arm, flesh peeled and crackled as it became ash, flaking away from the mage's arm. He shrieked in agony, but also seemed to exult in it.

"Oh yessss..." now the whisper was to Stella alone, "Feed me Pain and I will convert it to Pleasure. You assault me with your magics and now I accept your challenge. I am Absynthus, Arcanist of Pleasure and Pain, I will make you mine, and I will offer you to Great Slaanesh."

Absynthus held up his left hand, middle and index fingers extended with the rest closed about. Starting with the hand at his chest, he slowly moved it outward, until his arm was fully extended with the tips of his fingers facing the bard. This time there was no visible wave.

"I give you the gifts of Slaanesh."

The spell began to take effect, first as a gentle warming in the girl's bosom and loins. Then the heat expanded outward. With every movement of his hand, the feelings increased, a gentle throbbing, followed by a more forceful pulse within the girl. The spell was designed to bring her to the bring of ecstacy and then toss her over into it. If nothing was done, the girl would be hopelessly lost in waves of bodily pleasure, unable to focus her mind on anything.

Cho'kar had unfortunately not been able be within Stella's protective bubble and so he crawled agonizingly across the field of battle, across the blackened corpses of the night elves toward Absynthus. His left arm cradled the wyvern, ignoring the viscious bites it gave his arm, or the warm blood oozing from the wounds. It was in pain as well and couldn't be blamed for it's actions. The orc fought the pain and continued to inch slowly forward.

The other night elves were also mostly untouched by the nullifcation of pain. The continued to exult in it, some few reclaiming their weapons, eager to share their pain with their opponents.

[Keke Le Cat]

OOC: Nothing like a little S&M to kickstart your day...

"You talk to much." Stella muttered, shaking her head, trying to throw off the weave. It was silly, she knew, to try to physically remove a spell but her mind felt muddled. She was having trouble concentrating, and it was all she could do to sit her saddle. It was very difficult to fight off a weave one could not see, it was almost impossible to unravel it, but she knew she had to try.

Her cheeks pinkened as her lips parted, drawing short, ragged breaths. The brush of the wind against her skin, the intimate touch of her clothing, the warming of the morning sun all added to the sensation the elven mage was forcing onto her.

This wasn't fighting fair at all. A fool may believe pleasure easier to fight than pain, but she knew pain could be embraced, endured... All one could do while in the throws of ecstasy was surrender. One broke much more quickly to pleasure torture than to pain.

Finally, after much probing she ascertained the location of the invisible weave and slashed at it with all her mental energy, severing it's contact with her mind. She quickly threw a blocking ward around herself then kicked Aldieb forward, urging her to speed.

The small mare appeared delicate and small but she lived up to her name. Aldieb translated to "Wind" in the old Elvish tongue, and the Arabian mare truly did the name justice. She sped forward and slashed at the mage with her hooves.

Before Absynthus could retaliate, Stella flung herself from the mare's back and thudded into the elf bodily. She fumbled at her belt for her knife and slashed at the mage's face. She had to laugh at the look of shock on his face, he obviously hadn't expected a physical attack, but her power was low and she couldn't afford to continue the ethereal battle. So she set about trying to kill him with her fists, feet and belt knife.

[Qoorl]

Indeed Absynthus WAS suprised, more of her managing to destroy the weave than the physical attack. And fight she did. Before he was able to get in a good recovery, the girl had delivered more than a few cuts and stab wounds that while, not fatal on their own, could prove deadly with time.

There was however, a reason Absynthus went unarmed. He had no need for mortal weapons. As a favored son of Slaanesh, he was one. As the girl grappled with him, he looked her in the face and smiled. Suddenly the scar began to open, yellow pus oozing out. A large, spike covered and prehensile tongue shot forth from Absynthus's face striking at the girl's own eyes.

[Keke Le Cat]

OOC: OMGWTFBBQ PUSFACE TONGUE FOREHEAD GUY FREAKS ME OUT...

man when I read these posts I usually have still images go through my mind, like a comic book... and now I am totally fixating on pusface tongue forehead guy, its like a thought meme...

I am totally stuck, so now we have two damsel's in distress to deal with.

[bozistheboss]

Jergalzad stopped mid-battle when the, er, moaning figure of Stella rode past him. He and the dark elf he had been prepared to engage blinked, turning slowly to watch as she flew past and leapt atop the mage, slashing at him desperately. The elf and Jerg's gaze met again. They shrugged. Then the elf died. Jerg wrenched his blade from the corpse, hovering his cursed hand above the body, drawing its energy in..

He surveyed the battleground... Cho'kar was inching toward the mage, which was undergoing some hellish transformation.. meanwhile, Dani was attempting to help Keke, who staggered as if she was wounded. Honestly, woman, do you not know your limits? Jergalzad growled and punched the ground, his cursed hand perforating the earth... and he concentrated.

Ghostly figures, spirits of some sort, began to coalesce near Stella.. Ectoplasmic wisps reached out, grabbing the bardess, pulling her free from danger before vanishing.. Hopefuly that bought Cho'kar some time! Jerg leapt to his feet, continuing toward the giant tarzan, collectively known as Corporal Eyepatch McNastyloincloth. Keke was on the ground, scrambling away as the viking lord pulled his axe back, preparing for the final blow. The axe swung...

CLANG. A shower of sparks as it met Jerg's sword, the force of the blow digging the shrouded man's heels deep into the earth. Jergalzad pushed, one hand on the hilt the other on the blunt edge on the opposite end of his sword, deflecting the blow. The viking looked surprised to see this puny human with the.. skeletal arm? .. deflect his blow. He swung again, horizontally now. Jerg caught the axe in his hand, the metal ringing out as it met the crystal embedded in his bony palm.

[Qoorl]

Cho'kar indeed recovered. It only took a moment's time for him to regain his footing and sprint toward the mage. As stella was pulled from the danger, the orc's hand shot out and grabbed the writhing tongue. The spikes bit deep into Cho'kar's flesh but with the pain he had just endured it seemed negligible. One of the Fangs of the Hunter arced down, severing the tongue in a splash of multicoulered pus and blood. Absynthus staggered back, the stump of a tongue withdrawing and his face taking on it's former apperance.

"That... was unforgiveable. You shall all know the Anger of Slaanesh as well as his Love when we next meet," the mage hissed and then flung his arms out to either side. Inexplicably, it seemed as if the elf disintegrated. His body slowly became tiny particles that seemed to drift away on the breeze.

Meanwhile Dani's flames and the weapons of the others were making short work of the remaining cultists. With Jergalzad and Keke engaged against the lone warrior, it seemed as if the Red Hand had surived to battle another day.

[Keke Le Cat]

OOC: OMGOMGOMG IT'S SO GROSS.

IC: Stella

Stella looked on in horror as the ... thing... on the mage's forehead shot out toward her face. Before she could react icy cold wisps wrapped around her limbs and lifted her gently away before dissipating like fog in the morning light. She didn't waste any time wondering about their origin, she slammed the knife into the mage's chest to the hilt and retreated to Aldieb to retrieve her staff.

She didn't really know much about staves, other than the fact they could be used as a weapon. Her's was customarily used as an aid for concentration in spell weaving; but now she would use it to try to keep Absynthus at bay while keeping him too occupied to cast a spell. She held it before her in both hands, and blue flames spouted from both ends.

A smile crossed her face as the orc dealt with the elf mage.


"I'm not sure we've met," Said Stella to Cho'kar. "And I'm not sure we have time to now." Grinning, she reached forward and laid a hand on the orc's arm and wove a ward around the various wounds decorating his body, stopping the flow of blood. It was all she could do with her diminished power.

IC: Keke

Jeralzad's actions served as the perfect distraction, it bought Keke time to seek her weapons. She spotted her Nimcha lying near the viking's feet. She lunged forward and grasped the hilt in her left hand.

Keke lept to her feet and brought the Nimcha up to rest against the large man's neck. Disarmed and for all purposes defeated, he rose his hands in surrender.

“Very good.” Keke muttered with satisfaction. His response was a sour grunt.

“You will tell me what kind of poison this is.” She said, indicating her arm.

[Fox]

"Well I'm obviously not needed here." Dani said, stabbing an elf. "Later Keke." she walked away to find others in need of help.

[Solly]

OOC:Remember, Had has a poleaxe. By being too short for the sword I mean he couldn't be hit without the Night Elves leaning over and aiming their swords vertically.

Hey, Swor is a cool name. I would be struck by fear if I met anyone with a name like Swor. I mean, come on, you have to give me that.

"Corporal Eyepatch McNastyloincloth" is probably the greatest name to have ever existed.

IC: Dart had already killed 30 elves when suddenly the strange woman had cast the earthquake spell, followed by a magical light ball. And people say archery is unfair. Dart sighed and began killing night elves as they came. They were worse at the sword than himself! Of course, there was always one in five that would actually present a challenge, but Dart learned to take out his bow quickly and shoot it, making the bow almost as dangerous as a gun. Except the bow was silent.

The giant fell and was being questioned by Keke, and the mage was brutally thrashed by Cho'Kar. Beside him, the woman was casting a spell she was suddenly overcome by Night Elves. Dart sighed, he knew he had to help her, even though she freaked him out slightly. "Grins can't win fights, ceshire cat."

Dart quickly stabbed the night elves that were capturing her, then went back to shooting the stragglers. Soon they were all dead.

[The Editor]

... Hmm...

[temporal distortion]

Ervan sighs. More dark elves. Not that much of a challenge. Far more important things to be thinking about right now than mad followers of some random god whose existence is barely justified. Thinking of which... "Fina, I need you to stay with the crew, okay? I'm sure Keke will look after you. I'll be back eventually." He draws his sword and cuts a path through the attackers then carries on running, sheathing it as he goes, heading back on the long road to Liverpool.

[/temporal distortion]

So Ervan is going back to the Swan to grab some important stuff. He'll be back with the crew eventually.

Ed.

[Keke Le Cat]

She locked eyes with the large viking, willing him to answer of his on volition. She didn't have the stomach for torture and she really needed to know what sort of poison was coursing through her veins. She could feel Ervan's presence slipping farther away, and for a split second she was worried he may have been captured, kidnapped and carried off to be sacrificed in some horrid ritual.

Pain radiated up Keke's right arm in shockingly strong waves, throbbing out of beat with her heart. Her heart felt strange, and her breaths came too quickly. You weren't supposed to be aware of internal organs and her heart lurched with the effort to beat. She felt her hands shaking, and the sun seemed impossibly bright. A cold sweat broke out all over her body and she trembled with the effort to stand.

Her grasp slipped on the Nimcha's hilt and suddenly she was falling. It seemed she fell forever until blackness finally closed around her mind.

[The Editor]

Suddenly Ervan's arm burns. He spins around, searching for the source, then realises it must have come from Keke. He clenches his teeth and starts running again. Whatever it is, there's nothing he could do about it anyway.

[Qoorl]

Seeing, Keke fall, Cho'kar tossed aside the severed tongue and rushed to her side. He knelt beside her, cradling her head in his lap.

"Damnit Daerid," He said silently, speaking once again in his own mind, "For once you were needed and now you've decided to move on."

He placed his hands on the girl's head and bowed his own, speaking aloud.

"Feryr, I shared the soul with one of your servants, though I believe he ill represented you. This woman is you charge is she not? You intervened to save her life once before, and now that the holy man has truly departed you will not leave her to die. I can feel the essence he left behind, feel what he left in me. Use me. Channel your power through the part of Daerid that he left inside of my soul. I do not care how you do it. I am not of your people, but I will do whatever it takes to save this one. Take my body or soul but save her."

There was a pause, the air seemed to go still and none of the animals of the forest issued a sound. It seemed as if the whole world had gone still, except for the ragged breathing of the poisoned girl.

"Heal her or I swear by the Great Beasts that I will destroy Chaos and then use his power to tear you from the heavens. I will usurp him and undo everything you have done if you are unwilling to share the slightest shred of your Holy power to help her."

The blazing phoenix eyes of Cho'kar looked up to the heavens awaiting an answer. Then the power came. It flooded through the orc like dawn breaking across the horizon. Healing energy...from Feryr or some other alien source washed through the orc and over the girl. The venom drew away from the girl and into the Orc for a brief moment before the purplish death oozed from the wounds on his hands and sizzled, burning away in the morning light. He wasn't sure how to do it, but he new that the healing caused discomfort to the target and he willed the pain into himself somehow. Gasping for air, at last the Cho'kar released his grip on her head, letting it settle back into his lap and his leaned heavily againt Rajah. The Gauvedan seemed to take it all in stride, calmly devouring a bit of night elf.

[The Editor]

Suddenly the pain disappears. That's good, thinks Ervan, and on he runs.

[Keke Le Cat]

Keke awoke in a Temple of Freyr, but it was different, darker. Everything seemed indistinct in her direct line of vision, but sharp and clear from her peripherals. She looked around in confusion, trying to clear her head.

She approached the alter and knelt, trying to form a prayer but her mind was in chaos. Every time she tried to form a coherent thought it fluttered away. Thinking was like trying to catch tadpoles in reedy waters with your bare hands.

Keke realized dimly that she could not feel Ervan. "Am I dead?" She asked the alter, bowing her head.

"My child, have faith. Trust in divine wisdom and know that I am a merciful god. Do not lose faith in yourself." A masculine voice whispered in her ear as she became aware of a new, different presence.

This presence seemed soft whereas Ervan had seemed hard and spiky. Perhaps soft was not the correct word, it was more like silk stretched over stone, soft but unrelenting. And definitely more peaceful.

She raised her eyes to the alter and was blinded by the Light, Keke flinched away, covering her eyes with one hand. When she dared to look again she realized she was staring up at the noon-day sun.

Her head was resting in Cho'kar's lap, and she could feel him. "Oh. It's you." was all she could manage to say.

[bozistheboss]

As Keke fell, Jergalzad reached his cursed hand out, wrapping bony fingers around the viking lord's neck...

"Bad luck, friend," he said, his voice dripping with menace. The corpse fell a few seconds later, a withered husk. Jergalzad calmly inspected his arm... the battle had chipped the bone in a few places, especially on his palm. He brushed the dust and dirt away. The crystals shimmered and the bone renewed itself. He flexed his fingers as he inspected his handiwork.

"Well, I suppose even undeath needs to heal itself from time to time.." He cast his gaze over the battleground. They were victorious, for the most part. Jergalzad strode toward Stella, helping her up, careful not to touch her with his cursed arm.