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| Fell Powers [Complete]; [GRP] Open (1 person only, please!) | |
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| Topic Started: Sun Jan 22, 2012 5:19 am (287 Views) | |
| Akala | Sat Feb 4, 2012 7:29 pm Post #16 |
 
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Akala's eyes went a little wide when the blood started twining around Priscilla's fingers like a vine and when it sharpened into a dirk, her hand went for her own weapon. She forced it back down though. "If she really wanted to attack you, she'd have done so already," she thought, even though that adage hadn't always proven true in the past. "And she wouldn't be so concerned about protecting you," she added when the woman had finished. Akala's lips curled into a slight smile. "And how are you planning to handle the other druids? If the haemomancer needs blood, it stands to reason he'd have other people around to supply it for him. It would be impressive if you could take the entire cabal on in a fight, but if that haemomancer is as tough as you say he is, you'll have your hands full. You keep him too busy to harass me and I'll do what I can to keep the other druids off your back." Her face grew serious again, "I won't be able to keep them all off you. As my foster-father frequently reminded me, I am only an adequate fighter and barely a quantifiable mage. I can keep them busy though. I do have a few tricks up my sleeves." Her eyes trailed to the nearby brush, where she spotted a clump of vines. "You," she said, pointing to the plant and focusing her will. "Come here," she ordered, crooking her finger. The plant untwisted itself rather lazily and oozed over the ground to her ankle, which it twisted itself around. "Very funny," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Off." It let go. She put her hand down and it twisted around that instead. "It's a cute trick," she admitted to Priscilla, "but you don't know how useful it is in combat until you've seen someone freak out because one of these ardent little creatures has twined around their neck or a young tree has suddenly moved in front of them." She turned her attention back to the vine. "Huh, looks like honeysuckle." She focused her will yet again, "Go home," she told it, pointing back to the bush. It untwisted itself and snaked away. She looked at the redhead, head tilted to one side, mentally weighing her again. "You're probably the more skilled of us," she admitted, though she clearly wasn't happy about that. "But if this fight kills me," she shrugged, "then I die. I have people waiting for me on the other side, if it comes to that." She tried to sound nonchalant, but there was a barely perceptible tremor in her voice that said she did not want to meet those people just yet and she looked away so Priscilla couldn't read it in her eyes. She swallowed, "Let's keep going." |
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| Priscilla | Mon Feb 6, 2012 5:38 am Post #17 |
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Priscilla flashed a grin at Akala that was slightly too wide and too confident to seem friendly. It was more like a feral expression that one would expect on a wolf's snout than on the visage of a spunky, diminutive arcane scholar. "Ah, the other druids. I actually planned on hunting them down and ambushing them one by one before taking on the haemomancer, but I doubt that's an option any longer. That fight with the treant probably let them know I was coming, plus I have your fate to consider. I'll try to finish off the blood mage as quickly as possible. People aren't used to fighting an opponent that uses their own blood as a weapon, and most magic-users are entirely too confident." Although she couldn't exactly protect against arcane attacks, Priscilla knew that once she got within punching range of an enemy they would be hard-pressed to defend themselves. "I'm actually quite glad I met you, Akala. I probably bit off more than I could chew here, and it will be nice to have some help." She clenched her fist, the bloody spike withdrawing back into the cut across her palm. She watched the green-skinned female's demonstration silently, one eyebrow raising at the vine as it snaked through the air. The researcher had seen arcanists manipulate flora before, although she had never seen someone hold a conversation with a plant. Although she wasn't sure how useful it would be against a force of druids, she had to admit Akala had more skills than was immediately apparent. "Hey now, don't sell yourself short. You have to realize, I was specifically chosen for this task because of the target I'm after. If we were after a floramancer you would definitely have me beat. Different skills for different jobs..." A hard glimmer entered her eyes when Akala spoke of dying, although she bit her lip to keep the outburst brewing within from bursting out. Such a fatalistic attitude would only make failure more likely. There were psychological studies that suggested a pessimistic attitude could be more harmful to a person psyche than almost any other factor. Instead of sharing that statistic with her companion the woman shrugged, turning pack to the path. "The people on the other side can wait. Don't die." The tone of her voice suggested that it was an order to be followed, not a suggestion. Without another word she set off into the woods again, steadfastly avoiding meeting Akala's gaze. She didn't want the woman to realize how angry that simple comment had made her. After several long minutes of haughty, tense silence Priscilla held up one hand, curling her fingers into a fist in the universal gesture for stop. "Wait..." She lifted her head, delicately sniffing at the air. Although the scent of vegetation was overpowering in the dense forest, she could also detect a metallic twang that was disquieting. "There... There's blood ahead. And lots of it..." She glanced at Akala to make sure the woman was still prepared to follow her before pushing through the bushes, searching for the source of the cloying odor. |
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| Akala | Wed Feb 8, 2012 5:16 am Post #18 |
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Akala was grateful for the silence while she tried to gain control of the cold knot in her gut. She really did not wish to die. It was all very well to for Priscilla to say, "Don't die," but it did little to quell the prickle between her shoulder blades and the chill that settled into her spine. This was fear, but Akala would never, ever admit to that. She felt that would be somehow giving into it. Then Priscilla held her hand up and mentioned blood. Lots of blood. She glanced at Akala, who gave a curt nod and drew her sword as quietly as possible. Now that it was mentioned, the half-dragon did smell that familiar coppery tang too. It seemed faint, but clear. The haemomancer pushed the bushes aside, revealing, not a scene of carnage, but a garden. There were three short rows of short, bushy plants with pink, cup-shaped flowers and thick, fuzzy leaves that were so dark red they were nearly black. It was something that had been clearly planted and the lack of weeds said that someone was caring for it or that it had been planted recently. Akala recognized the plants immediately. "Those do not belong here," she whispered. She ventured into the glade, carefully checking around for any concealed owner or guard. Not seeing any, she continued her lecture, though she kept her voice soft. "These are bloodcups. They're native to Gloomwood. They generally live underneath assassin vine or other killing plants. Blood from the crushed animal falls into the flower and gets stored in the leaves." She crouched (though her ribs objected strenuously) and broke open a leaf, which started to ooze a thick, red substance that was a mix of sap and blood. She waved the broken bit under her nose. The smell was unmistakable - sort a mix between copper, iron, and violets. These were strong enough to leave a sweet, metallic taste in the mouth too. She passed the broken leaf to Priscilla. "They're harmless and really only useful as a food source. They don't taste too great and you have to scrape the fur off, but if you're anemic, nothing in the world is better for you. There's more blood in one leaf than in most pieces of liver." She sat back on her heels and examined the plant more closely. "They're incredibly well fed, but I don't see anything that can feed them," she said, looking around. The glade was heavily shaded, which was probably partly why the plants were doing so well. "It seems redundant, but I think someone may be giving them blood. They won't grow if you try to give them anything else." She put a hand down on the ground to steady herself and found it was wet. When she took her fingers away, they were rust red. "And I think someone has fed them recently." |
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| Priscilla | Fri Feb 10, 2012 4:01 am Post #19 |
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Priscilla followed the green-scaled woman into the clearing, eying the unusual flora warily. She had never seen nor heard of such a plant, but that wasn't very surprising. She had always found herblore to be exceedingly dull and never took any classes on the subject besides what was required. She knelt down next to one of the dark plants, eying the dark-red leaves with apprehension. Even without Akala's explanation she would have been able to tell that the plants were completely saturated with blood. Although it was different than a living being's, she could sense the liquid on a subconscious level, an uncomfortable and encompassing pressure on the edges of her awareness. Priscilla watched as Akala gently reached forward and plucked off one of the leaves, eying the rivulet of dark red liquid that rolled down the flower's stem. The researcher took the offered leaf, holding it in her open palm and staring at it. She slowly folded her fingers into a tight fist, feeling the sticky mixture ooze between her fingers. The gesture appeared almost cruel, but in reality the haemokinetic was trying to estimate how much of the plant's sap was actually blood. From its viscosity and surface tension she would guess it was almost eighty percent unadulterated blood. She felt a shiver of horror spread down her spine at a sudden realization. This wasn't a garden. This was an armory. "You need to prepare yourself." Priscilla stared straight into her companion's eyes, trying to convey all of her urgency and seriousness as quickly as possible. "Every drop of blood in these flowers is a weapon. We walked into a trap that hadn't even been set for us." She dropped the crushed leaf to the ground, wiping the sap off her fingers and onto her leggings. Her eyes flickered from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of the druids she had come here to find. Although she couldn't hear or sense anyone, the blood-soaked ground suggested their enemies were close. Worse, if they were nearby that meant they had probably overheard the battle with the treant and had known some unaware trespasser had wondered into the Calmonah Forest. "We need to put some space between us and the bloodcups. If we get caught in here we'll be massacred." Priscilla could manipulate her own blood; she couldn't stop the plants from wrapping around her ankles and entangling her in a strangling embrace. The arcanist chose a new direction as quickly as possibly, stomping through the garden. She felt the bloodcups snap underneath her feet as she blundered through the blade, ignoring the sickly sweet smell that emanated from the crushed flowers. As soon as she entered the untamed forest she turned in a slow circle, surveying their surroundings warily. There was still no one to be seen, so she continued through the thick underbrush. There was no trace of a trail here, but that meant there would be less chance of their discovery. However, that hope was dashed when Priscilla heard a soft whirring noise that was all too familiar. She scowled and ducked down, hearing a loud thunk! as an arrow lodged in a nearby tree. The haemokinetic using the angle of the projectile to quickly predict its trajectory, pivoting on one foot and staring in that direction. Sure enough, there was a flash of motion as the archer launched another arrow towards them. She caught a glimpse of brown and green fabric before she threw herself to one side, feeling a bright flash of pain as the arrowhead scraped across her upper arm. "Akala, I see him! Stay under cover!" Priscilla followed her own advice, putting a thick tree trunk between her and their foe while trying to develop a strategy. |
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| Akala | Fri Feb 10, 2012 5:26 am Post #20 |
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Akala thought that Priscilla's statement about this being a trap was exaggerated. You didn't go through all the fuss of transplanting bloodcups (which were not easy to grow, despite the fact they flourished in the wild) to turn them into a trap - intentional or no. But she would agree that every single plant was a weapon under the circumstances. Just the same, she felt an unreasonable surge of anger when Priscilla stormed through the plants, crushing several. She throttled that feeling down though and followed the haemokinetic. She was trying to get her bearings again when the first arrow thumped into the tree. Reflexes drove her to the ground before she could consciously connect the sound with an arrow. She rolled under some bushes where (hopefully) she couldn't be seen from above. Turning her head to try and see where the shot had come from, she met with the very surprised face of a man crawling through the underbrush on his belly, a knife in his teeth. She was surprised too, but recovered quicker. "Hi," she said cheerily and poked him in the eyes. He howled in pain, dropping the weapon. She scooped it up and attempted to bury it in his forehead. It sort of worked. She was at a bad angle, so the blade slid across his scalp, leaving an ugly gash. Then something looped around her throat with a feather-light touch. She barely got her hand wedged under it before it tightened, crushing her throat. She could barely breath, much less call out a warning to Priscilla or order the vine to let go. Briefly she considered trying to wedge the knife between her throat and the plant, but decided against it. Another vine snaked out and around her waist and another around her ankles. The started pulling her backwards, completely ignoring that it was dragging a living being over all of the debris that littered a forest floor. Acorns, sticks, and rocks all scraped across Akala's skin - if she hadn't been a half-dragon, she would have quickly become a bloody mess. As it was, it just hurt. And that pain didn't include the larger rocks, bushes, and logs that got in her way. She tried to turn and get to the vines with the knife, but they were pulling her along too fast. She tried to dig the knife into the ground and hold on, but it just dragged the knife along with her until the hilt slipped out of her hand. Then she hit the tree. It knocked out what little breath she had left in her and her mouth gaped like a stranded fish's. The vine kept pulling, stretching taunt, pulling her body backwards in a way it was not meant to bend. Akala knew that if it came to breaking, it would be her back before it was the tree. Suddenly the vines let go, dropping her to the ground and slamming her sensitive ribs into the tree's exposed roots. That really hurt. Despite the pain though, she had the vine unwrapped from around her neck in record time. She sat there, gasping for air and trying to make the pain go away long enough to get to her feet. She untangled her legs and waist and put her head between her knees, taking deep breaths, thinking hard about not hurting. When she lifted her head, a man was standing in front of her. He was human, probably shorted than Akala, with brown hair, red eyes, a hawk-like nose, and no chin. He had a bow pointed at her. "Hi," he said, though it didn't sound very welcoming. He let the bow go slack and drew his dagger. He cut his own finger, just a little nick, and the blood shot out of it and hardened instantly into a six-inch needle. He stuck the needle just under her chin, angled back toward her throat. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just kill you now." |
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| Priscilla | Sun Feb 12, 2012 10:06 pm Post #21 |
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The researcher heard an inhalation of surprise from her companion, jerking her head towards the sound. Apparently one of the ambushers had sneaked close enough to be a threat, but Akala seemed to have the situation in hand. She managed to slice across the man's scalp before a vine whipped out of the undergrowth, wrapping around the woman and dragging her out of sight. Priscilla uttered a strain of expletives that would make a sailor blush, instantly rising and following after the woman. However, she had barely gotten a step before the wounded man grabbed her ankle, yanking her off her feet and slamming her chin into a thick root. Her teeth slammed together with a painful clack!, the thick taste of blood filling her mouth as spots danced in front of her eyes. She turned onto her back, lashing out with one foot and striking the man's gash with her heel. He cried out in surprise and pain as her kick connected, blood flowing freely from the injury. She ran her tongue across her teeth, crystallizing it and forming an impromptu mouthguard. Instead of wasting time with using her abilities, the arcanist drew her dagger and sank it the side of the man's neck. He wordlessly gasped as she severed his jugular and windpipe, desperately trying to staunch his life's blood. Priscilla was already on her feet as the man writhed on the ground, rushing after Akala. Luckily, the woman's path was easy to follow from the crushed plants and scrape marks in the dirt. She crashed through the bushes, stumbling onto a worrisome scene. The green-scaled woman was kneeling on the ground, obviously held hostage by a man holding a blade at her throat. Her eyes went to the weapon, widening when she realized it was not an actual dagger, but rather a needle forged out of his own blood. Before she could react to this new development the man jerked his hand towards her, launching the bloody spike straight towards her. Priscilla reacted without thinking, raising one hand in front of her face to protect it. The projectile struck her arm, but instead of impaling the limb it shattered like glass, small chunks of hardened blood littering the ground. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as she met the druid's eyes, watching his expression change from surprise to confusion to raw anger. Before he could threaten Akala again Priscilla charged forward, wrapping her arms around the man and carrying him to the ground. "Get out of here!" The druid's bow was sent flying as they rolled through the trees, each of them struggling for an advantage. She aimed one elbow towards the man's temple, gritting her teeth as he got a handhold of her hair and wrenched several red strands. Any thought of protecting Akala left her mind as she fought to keep the haemomancer on the ground, but an unexpected knee to the gut sent her falling back. She rose to her feet as quickly as possible, raising both hands. Blood gushed out of the wounds on her palms, forming sharp, serrated protrusions like wicked blades. The druid rose as well, raising his eyebrows at the display. "Oh, that makes more sense now." He held out one hand, the skin on his palm parting. Blood surged out of the cut, forming a long blade out of what seemed to be liquid blood. It seemed to glow slightly, basking the vegetation in an eerie shade of red light. The arcanist didn't respond to his mocking tone, instead focusing on the weapon he had conjured. There was no question; he clearly was manipulating the blood with magic. He was an actual haemomancer. Priscilla could only hope that Akala was far enough away to not be in danger from his dangerous magic. There were probably other druids and dangers in the trees, but her companion should be safer facing them than this particular enemy. She started to circle around the druid, searching for an opportunity to attack. |
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| Akala | Tue Feb 14, 2012 3:00 am Post #22 |
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Akala scrambled out of the way as the two blood wielders crashed to the ground. She stumbled to the far side of the tree, landing on her knees in the dirt. She got shakily to her feet, looking back at Priscilla wrestling with the haemomancer. While she was trying to think of a way to help, she felt a feathery (but this time familiar) touch around her wrist, just before a vine tightened. Her temper shot through the roof. She was hurt, she was tired, she was trying to figure out how to help an ally, and all of these distractions could just stop. She jerked her wrist up until she was eye level with the vine. "Enough," she growled and was immediately surprised at how much it hurt to talk. This only served to anger her further. She grabbed the vine with her free hand and pulled. It fought her, more so than a plant should have, writhing and trying to snap out of her grip. She tugged at it a little, enough to expose it. It ran around the tree and right in between Priscilla and the haemomancer, who were circling each other, and down to the base of another tree. Standing by the tree and staring intently at the vine was an elf. If Akala hadn't been looking at him, she probably wouldn't have seen him, so well did he blend in with the green and brown of the forest. He, however, was so intensely focused that he did not notice her. Good. She picked up a small stick from the ground and threw it at him. She was aiming for his head, but missed, striking him in the arm instead. Reflexively, he ducked back behind a tree, his concentration broken. But Akala had no time to take advantage of her victory. An arrow streaked through the trees, striking the ground in front of her and slicing open her arm. She ducked into the underbrush. "I need a distraction," she thought. "I've got to figure out how many other people are out there and where they are." She glanced through the branches at where the Priscilla and the haemomancer fought. A thought occurred to her. It was a nasty and not very nice thought, but it was practical and she was sure that the haemokenetic was a gifted enough fighter to survive it. Pretty sure, anyway. Sure enough. So she shouted no warning when the ground behind Priscilla began to boil with vines, all set to entangle her once she stepped into their reach. Instead Akala skirted wide, avoiding the fight and flanking the elf. Before she was halfway there, she became immediately aware that she was being followed by at least two others - possibly more. She kept moving though, hoping that the chance to take a shot at their haemomancer's opponent would distract them. She reached the spellcaster. He was so focused again that he didn't turn when she came up behind him, even though she made quite a bit of noise. He didn't notice when she tapped him on the shoulder either. But he did notice when she grabbed his shoulder, spun him around, and slammed her forehead onto his. He couldn't do anything about it, but he noticed. His knees folded up and he collapsed in a heap. The vines went still and disappeared. |
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| Priscilla | Tue Feb 14, 2012 4:10 am Post #23 |
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The haemokinetic hopped backwards as quickly as possible as the druid charged forward, stabbing forward with his magically constructed blade. Although he had been holding a bow earlier, he was clearly skilled with a sword. She was a fraction too slow to completely avoid the attack, the tip of the shimmering sword ripping across her forearm. She felt a surge of cold spread from the wound as he attempted to freeze her veins, an attack that would cripple or kill a normal opponent outright. She combated the maneuver by increasing her core temperature, blood rushing out of the wound beginning to spread across her forearm. She brutally lashed out towards the haemomancer's torso with the spike on her palm, grunting triumphantly as the tip of the weapon sank into the meat of his shoulder. Priscilla rotated her elbow to snap off the middle of the weapon, leaving almost a foot of crystallized blood sticking out of his flesh. The two fighters separated quickly, both having been wounded in the brief exchange. However, no blood dripped from the injuries; instead it rose into the air, writhing and forming shapes like living creatures. Blood spread from the cut on her arm to coat the limb entirely, hardening into shell-like armor. The druid's blood took a more fluid shape, adopting the appearance of a snake as it coiled around his body. "You're not a haemomancer, are you. Your blood tastes different." He raised the summoned sword, watching as the blood from Priscilla's wound sizzled and evaporated off of the edge. "It's some sort of... genetic ability, am I right? Rare, girl. Far too rare to be a coincidence. You came looking for me, didn't you." He chuckled with genuine, if somewhat twisted, amusement. "You're going to die here." "You wish. Your fancy blood magic won't work on me." She was about to charge forward again when plants whipped out of the undergrowth, vines wrapping around her limbs with starting alacrity. She barely had time to cry out before one of the plants wrapped around her throat, beginning to tighten almost immediately. She was completely trapped for an instant, a virtual eternity in the midst of a battle. However, Priscilla had not been stripped of her defensive abilities. As soon as she realized her predicament blood pored from every wound on her body, spreading across her skin and crystallizing. A moment after the hardened blood had formed across her back an arrow slammed into her shoulder, splintering as it came into contact with the shell-like covering. The researcher glanced over her shoulder to see why she had been attacked instead of Akala, but there was no trace of the green-scaled female. Great. Just great. Priscilla closed her eyes tightly, bloody spikes protruding from her armor and piercing through the vines binding her to the ground. She jerked from side to side, twisting her body so that as many of the plants were severed as quickly as possible. She managed to free herself within a minute of the plants first attack, but it was still not quite quick enough; the hameomancer had managed to strike once more, his sword scraping across her stomach. His enchanted sword separated the blade of her armor an instant before it struck, slicing though her skin instead of being deflected like normal. Priscilla bit back a cry of pain and stumbled back, congealing the blood of the wound before it could start leaking out of the gash. He smirked at her, but the researcher simply ground her teeth together and charged forward again. |
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| Akala | Wed Feb 15, 2012 5:12 pm Post #24 |
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As soon as the mage went down, so did Akala, dropping to her stomach in the underbrush. The elf had a hunting knife on him - not her first choice of weapon, but it would do. She took it, feeling relieved to be armed again. She dragged herself away from her two stalkers, pulling herself along with her elbows and knees. Her ribs hated that, and so did her injured arm, but she ignored them. She stopped by a couple of thorn bushes and a fallen tree, watching Priscilla and the haemomancer and listening for her pursuers. The haemomkenetic looked like she could be doing better. Oh, she was doing fine - but people kept making attacks against her while she was busy with her opponent. "I should be keeping them distracted from her, rather than relying on her to keep them distracted from me." She felt a surge of guilt about that vines thing. "At least I can make it up to her." The easiest way to get the druids' attention was to act like a threat. She already had the focus of two, which she could hear coming up behind her now. Best deal with them first. She pulled herself into a crouch, steeling herself. She knew how to take them out - it was just risky, requiring speed she wasn't sure she had. "It beats waiting for them to come to you," she thought. She shot to her feet and pivoted, charging the stalkers. The first was too surprised to react - she jumped on him with both feet, bring as much of her weight down on him as she could without surrendering her balance. She landed just below his shoulders, feeling a crack before she slipped off. It took her a half a second to regain her footing; just long enough for the second to draw her knife and get halfway to her knees. Akala charged again. The woman sat back and pulled the knife back to throw it. Sitting was a mistake though - Akala was in front of her before she could throw. The half-dragon kicked her in the throat and she went down gagging. Akala scissor-kicked her in the head and she went down for good. She turned again and ran back to the man, whom she stomped on again, right where she'd heard the crack. He went down for good as well. An arrow whizzed by, impaling the webbing of one of her ears. "Agh," she said, ducking back into the underbrush as another arrow cleaved the air where she had been. She had at least two people's attention now at least. She broke the arrow and pulled it out. |
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| Priscilla | Wed Feb 15, 2012 11:37 pm Post #25 |
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The snake made of blood darted forward, its fangs snapping shut inches in front of Priscilla's face. She jerked backwards, bringing her left hand up and stabbing her remaining blade at its neck. However, the serpent changed back to normal blood in the instant she struck, her weapon uselessly passing through the red liquid. The druid was standing ten feet away, simply smiling maliciously as he use magic to manipulate his blood freely. Technically he should have been unconscious from the amount of the stuff he was using, but she knew from her research that artificially creating more blood was one of the first spells most haemomancers learned. She leapt back to avoid a shining shuriken that rocketed towards her, its path changing to trace her through the trees. She managed to avoid it at the last second by grabbing a thin sapling with one hand and using it to pivot without losing speed, although her shoulder socket screamed in protest at the jarring movement. She charged straight at the druid with her bladed hand extended, but he danced back, sending several more spikes of blood flying towards her. Priscilla punched the projectiles out of the air in a blur of speed, forcing her body to move faster than was physically safe by taking direct control of the blood in her limbs. Her muscles ached in protest, but the woman knew that the only alternative was death. Her blood-bending abilities could not compare with the haemomancer's. Her supplies of blood were limited, while he could probably keep up the wasteful attacks for hours. It was already straining her resources to cover herself in protective armor, but without the defensive mechanism she would get turned into a pincushion by the hidden archers. She tried to focus on attacking her deadly foe, but every time she got close he merely used his constructs to force her back to a safe distance. It was a frustrating, exhausting cycle that Priscilla knew would eventually lead to her defeat. Clearly a different strategy was necessary. The haemokinetic surged forward again, trying to ignore the flashes of pain as the druid's attacks pierced through her layer of armor. Like usual, her forward progress ground to a halt while her opponent was just out of reach. However, instead of giving up ground she instructed spikes to shoot out of the soles of her feet, firmly entrenching her in that position. She brought her remaining blade up and dragged it down her inner forearm, splitting the skin. Blood burst out of the wound, forming a pencil-thin yet lengthy spike of blood that extended straight towards the druid, effectively doubling her reach. The lance stabbed straight through the haemomancer's thigh before he realized what she had done. The man cried out in pain, gesturing wildly with one hand. A wave of dark red blood coursed out of his hand, bodily slamming into Priscilla and throwing her away from the druid. The spear shattered as she was tossed back, leaving a good-sized chunk of crystallized blood impaled through the meat of his leg. The druid glared up at her, his eyes wide and crazy with anger. As she watched the crimson color spread from his irises until the white of his eyes were the same vivid color. Her response was a smirk and a small, concise gesture that required no spoke translation: bring it on. |
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| Akala | Thu Feb 16, 2012 5:04 am Post #26 |
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"Three down, an unknown number to go," Akala thought grimly as she started to crawl through the bushes again, the knife in her teeth. Well, she knew two things at least: one archer was in the trees, because an arrow had come down, and one was on the ground, because one had come across. She was moving in the general direction of the ground-bound archer, occasionally glancing back at the fight going on in the glade. Priscilla looked like she was doing worse and worse, which worried Akala - as much for herself as the haemokinetic. She reached the archer. He was hugging up against a tree, not paying attention to her because he was looking for an opening to shoot at Priscilla again. Akala stabbed him in the leg. He went down with a with a cry of pain as she yanked the knife free. Before he could go for his own knife, she hit him in the back of the head with the pommel of her's, as hard as she could. He dropped like a rock. She didn't check to see if he was actually dead or not, but kept crawling. No arrows came her direction, so perhaps they were busy. Or couldn't see her - that was a possibility too. She made it too the far side of the tree just as Priscilla jammed a lance into the haemomancer's leg. He knocked her away from him with a wave of blood. She bounced back though - and did so with attitude. A wicked grin flashed over Akala's face and she gave a silent whoop of joy for her. And now it was time for her to do something. Another honeysuckle bush that had somehow survived the fight thus far was near enough to serve her purpose. She focused her will on it. "Get him," she whispered, jerking her thumb in the haemomancer's direction. A tendril shot out and wrapped itself several times around the man's waist. Akala knew that wouldn't hold for long though, so she change her target, this time focusing on an abused looking thorn bush. "Move," she ordered, pointing a finger in the direction of the druid again. The thorn bush lunged at the man's leg, attempting to surround it with its branches and nearly uprooting itself in the process. She felt a brief surge of guilt at that, but at least she didn't have to hold it there. She changed her focus again, this one to a daffodil that was by his foot. "Grab," she ordered. It did, wrapping itself around the man's foot. Then a wave of dizziness swept over her. The flower let go of his foot. She suddenly became acutely aware that she hadn't had a rest since the fight with the treant - she'd overcasted, drained herself of mana and energy. A sudden pain in her leg blasted away the dizziness and exhaustion. She reflexive rolled over and grasped at the injured appendage, swearing. A shuriken was buried deep within her calf. It kept trying to pull itself out too, which just made it worse. |
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| Priscilla | Thu Feb 16, 2012 8:51 pm Post #27 |
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Priscilla heard an exultant shout as she backed away from the druid, which probably meant that Akala was still alive. She dared not look for her companion, but the arcanist was glad that the green-skinned female was still alive. She would have felt horribly guilty if her companion had died to help further the Academy's agenda. The haemomancer was breathing heavily, his anger reflected in his face and the appearance of his constructs. Long tentacles burst out of his skin, the appendages ending in long, wicked claws that looked like they could easily flay her skin to the bone. She dodged the first sweeping gesture, rolling to one side and summoning another spear of crystallized blood from the gash on her arm. She sidestepped past the next tentacle, the tips of the claws scoring three parallel cuts across her side. The haemokinetic kept moving forward, dodging several attacks through a combination of luck and reflexes bolstered by blood manipulation. She received a welcome reminder of Akala's continued survival when a vine whipped out of the trees, lashing around his wrist and jerking the druid to one side. He scowled, the attack that had been streaking towards her skull redirecting itself and severing the plant instead. It was quickly followed by a thorn bush that literally tore itself out of the ground to launch itself at the haemomancer, its brambles tearing at his leggings and pricking the skin underneath. He dispassionately tore the plant to shreds, not noticing as a small, flowering plant wrapped itself around his foot. Priscilla saw the daffodil and charged forward, taking advantage of the small opening the attacking flora had given her. One of the tentacles managed to catch the arm with the bloody lance before she could stab forward, but her other palm slammed into the druid's chest in an open-handed blow. If not for the entangling daffodil he would have recovered easily; as it was the attack sent him sprawling backwards in the grass, the back of his head cracking against a tree trunk as he fell. The tentacle restraining her arm withered in that moment, the sudden freedom sending her falling forward. She recovered a fraction of a second before the haemomancer, stabbing the lance through the center of his chest even as he rose his hands towards her face. The druid froze, his bloodshot eyes slowly traveling down the length of her arm to where the lance had impaled his torso. Rage contorted his features, but before he could retaliate Priscilla stomped her foot onto his throat. The soles of her feet soles were still covered in a layer of spikes that tore through his jugular, the sheer ferocity of the attack almost severing his head entirely. The scholar stared down at the man, breathing heavily and watching as the life faded from his eyes, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure that it sounded like a drum. She was cut and bruised in too many places to count, blood oozing from the lacerations. She found that she was too tired to care, too tired to force the liquid to coagulate so the healing process could begin. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but that wasn't an option. Instead she looked up, her features still obscured by a mask of hardened blood. "You're all next." She staggered away from the haemomancer's corpse, looking for the remaining druids. |
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| Akala | Sat Feb 18, 2012 4:51 am Post #28 |
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Akala hauled herself to her feet and limped her way through the underbrush to Priscilla. The shuriken was still tugging at itself too, which meant that someone was still alive out there and trying to call it back. And she hadn't found the other archer yet. She caught the haemokinetic's arm and draped it over her shoulders. "Come on," she said, "You don't look so great. Let's get out of here." She took a quick glance at their surroundings again. Movement caught her eye and she spotted the other archer sitting in a tree, pulling her bow back for another shot. "I wouldn't," she called threateningly. "You can't get us both with that arrow and you won't like what the one you don't shoot will do to you." The archer seemed to consider this for a moment, then lowered her weapon. "Good decision," Akala muttered. The skuriken tugged insistently again. "One moment," she said to Priscilla, letting go over her arm. "And to whoever is trying to call back their damn throwing star: stop," she shouted, "You can have it back when I'm done with it." The tugging didn't stop, but Akala felt a bit better anyway. "Come on," she said to the haemokinetic again. "We're going back to that garden. It's a good as place as any to start patching up." |
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| Priscilla | Thu Feb 23, 2012 12:00 am Post #29 |
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Akala appeared from the underbrush like magic, stepping forward and offering to help the haemokinetic. Priscilla shook her head when the woman told her to leave the corpse. "No... Not yet. Just... just a second..." She bent down over the corpse of the druid, ignoring the menacing expression that death had frozen on his face. She rifled through his clothes as quickly as possible, searching for any scrolls or books. He had to have learned the forbidden art of haemomancy from somewhere. and with how confident the blood mage had acted he probably kept his source of knowledge on his person. In one of his back pockets the scholar found what she was looking for, a small and nondescript leather-bound journal. On the cover was a faded inscription showing a skull with blood dripping from its gaping eye sockets. She shivered at the sight, recognizing the symbol of the ancient order of haemomancers. "Okay... now we can go." She leaned on Akala heavily as they walked through the woods, keeping the bloody armor wrapped around her limbs until they got to the field of bloodcups. She sat down heavily once they reached the garden, sighing and letting the hardened blood melt into its liquid state before flowing back into her veins. A small degree of warmth returned to her body as she finally lowered her defenses, but she had still lost quite a lot of fluid during the brutal fight. She reached out to one of the nearby plants, curling her hands around its stem and closing her eyes. The flowers and leaves withered as she drained the blood out of its system, separating the sap from the red liquid so that it was safe to use. Priscilla raised her left arm, directing a tendril of blood from the plant towards the gash on that arm. The blood twirled through the air like a piece of thread, quickly stitching the wound tightly shut before diffusing into her blood stream. There was still an angry line along her arm, but the healing process had begun. "I can heal you too, if you don't mind scars. It's better than bleeding to death." She gestured to her torso next, directing the blood to suture up the long laceration left by the druid's enchanted sword. The skin around the wound faded from a bright red to a healthy shade as she worked, the inflammation diminishing due to her ministrations. Although Priscilla was as inept with healing as she was with any brand of traditional magic, her blood-based methods were comparable. They closed the wounds and kept them sealed shut while delivering hormones to the site that dulled the pain and augmented the body's natural healing process. It took more effort to work on others in this manner, but it was doable. "I'll understand if you refrain. People... usually don't like blood." |
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| Akala | Fri Feb 24, 2012 4:49 pm Post #30 |
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Akala sat down hard next to Priscilla, glad to have the weight off her leg. As she watched her extract the blood from the plants, she said, "Oh, good. I was worried about about how I was going to cook those things into an edible state. Now I don't have to." When the woman offered to heal her she said, "Please do. Your manner of healing seems to be much more efficient than bandages - which is good, because I don't have those anyway. And...blood does not bother me. Your magic does not bother me. Even his magic did not bother me, though I dislike the idea that he abused it so." She frowned, "Though, I won't lie - the thought of what he would do to me if you lost was of serious concern." Carefully, she began to wiggle loose the shuriken, hoping it hadn't cut anything important. Dark blood oozed across her hand. "What I don't understand," she said as she worked, "was where he got this supposedly forbidden knowledge in the first place." The shuriken came free and nearly slipped from her fingers in an effort to get back to its owner. She wasn't about to let that happen though - not until she's gotten a look at it. |
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