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| Solemn Reverence | |
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| Topic Started: Sun Jul 5, 2009 11:13 pm (370 Views) | |
| swordhunter | Sun Jul 5, 2009 11:13 pm Post #1 |
 
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Aiden walked quietly through the empty, open graveyard. Decaying bodies of once great dragons lay all around him, creating both a gloomy atmosphere and a horrible smell. "What a dreary place," he muttered, stepping gingerly over a pile of small bones. "I can imagine why the dwarves hid such an object here. It doesn't look like anyone living has come through this place in quite a while." Aiden fell silent as he stopped in an attempt to get his bearings. He had been given rather vague directions to this place by a group of dwarves, but had managed to make it this far with a great bit of luck. His target was a small, wooden chest planted here long ago by a now long dead friend. Inside was the only momento he had ever left--a well crafted shortsword with elvish runes on the side. However, actually finding the chest had proved to be another matter altogether. "This has turned out to be quite a bit of a nightmare," Aiden muttered, hefting a shovel over his shoulder and continuing the search for the marker that would reveal his goal. . . |
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| Nemael | Sun Jul 5, 2009 11:40 pm Post #2 |
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Nemael sat easily atop the short cliff, one foot hanging over the edge, the other bent up at the knee. White hair spilled over his shoulders freely, well groomed but not bound in any particular manner. His lithe frame made him look frail in comparison to the many larger beasts in the mountain range, this stretch in particular. The sun shone high overhead, highlighting Nemael's exposed skin. His outfit was much the same as it had been in the past, with a couple of additions. Dark brown pants, loose and wide around the legs to allow movement, a russet leather vest over his otherwise bare torso. On his left bicep rested a black leather band with four rubies in a row around its length, casting a red glow over his arm. The drow was, above all, heavily armed. The drow tapped out a rhythm on his knee, watching his guest throughout his appearance. He sat high and with his back to the sun, making him hard enough to spot that he could watch with no fear of discovery. He touched two fingers to a green and gold gem on his belt buckle, sending a small touch of magic into it. The form sank into the cliff below him, using a blink spell to teleport into the rock at the base of the wall. He walked from the stone smoothly without a problem, hands resting easily on the hilts of the twin longswords at his hips. The black steel gleamed in the light, the silver clasps holding them to his hips shining in contrast. At his touch, the air was filled with faint whispers, barely audible. Reassured, he continued his walk, the baldric across his chest bearing three leather sheaths, each holding a miniature dirk. There was another strapped to his right forearm, and a normal sized dagger on his right thigh. His boots crunched softly as he passed the remains of dragons that had come here to die, the souls of the beasts that wandered the graveyard. In reply Nemael felt a presence waking in his mind, the sentient mind of his most prized possession, the black and red blade on his back. The spider's leg hand-guard flexed, the metal bending as easily as flesh. The drow leaned against a carcass nearby, flicking his hair out of his face with a long black finger, not a drop of sweat betraying his resilience to the heat. “I'm curious what a wood elf is doing in a place like this. Doesn't seem like the sort of cheery, naïve forest I'd usually find your kind in.” He chuckled, flicking the throwing knife at his wrist into hand, picking his nails with it. “But I'm one to talk, aren't I?” |
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| swordhunter | Sun Jul 5, 2009 11:51 pm Post #3 |
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“I'm curious what a wood elf is doing in a place like this. Doesn't seem like the sort of cheery, naïve forest I'd usually find your kind in. But I'm one to talk, aren't I?” At first, Aiden was surprised to hear a voice here at all. As far as he knew, not many people came up here in a decade, much less two on the same day. He turned around slowly, noting the appearance of a heavily armed drow nearby. Not batting an eye, Aiden stood and straightened, stretching nonchalantly. "I'm not sure that Norwood is exactly naive," he said slowly, casually resting his hand on the hilt of his blade. "But then again, I don't think that was your point. If you must know, I'm searching for an object that once belonged to a friend. Although, I'm having a bit of trouble finding the blasted thing." Aiden smirked slyly and asked, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me find it, would you?" As he spoke, a soft breeze carried the stale smell of dead and decaying bodies through the large, airy chamber. I really hope that's not an omen, Aiden thought sarcastically, waiting for the newcomer's response. . . |
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| Nemael | Wed Jul 8, 2009 6:06 am Post #4 |
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Nemael grinned, baring his teeth in a not-quite-friendly way. “I don't suppose I do.” He smiled innocently, leaning into the rotting dragon. The breeze washing through the clearing swept over him, assaulting his nostrils. He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he took in the stench. A shudder ran through his torso, eyes closing as he reveled in it. “Beautiful smell, isn't it?” He asked, emerald eyes gleaming. “Death. A sleep so deep that every trouble on your mind is swept away in a wave of rapture.” He laughed. Slipping away the dagger away, he tapped out a rhythm on the drum-like ribs of the green dragon he was leaning on. “You have to envy these creatures. There are no troubles, no strangers you meet in the middle of nowhere, no one to bother you.” He chuckled. His eyes gleamed in the sunlight above once more, but all innocence was lost, given way to darker thoughts. His palms sat comfortably on the hilts of his swords, tapping against the leather-wrapped handles. Watching the elf, his eyes traveled over the sword. Nothing that seemed immediately dangerous. “I'm a bit rusty at this, haven't been around for a while. Care to help me brush up?” His words were laced with lust, his tongue running over his elongated canines, a remnant of his failed turning by his godmother. His hands ran fluidly over the pommels of his swords, taking a sure grip on the swords and drawing them free, flipping them in his hands to face outwards. The air was filled with a faint whisper as the blades spoke to each other, voices overlapping and too quiet to make out. Nemael used two fingers on each hand to bind his thick white hair back into a ponytail, tying a thin leather strip tightly. |
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| swordhunter | Thu Jul 9, 2009 3:13 am Post #5 |
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Aiden listened with interest as this stranger spoke of the peace the decaying bodies around them were experiencing. I suppose that's one way to look at the situation, he thought amusingly. He had to hide his own distaste for the place. There was no life, no signs of growth or the greenery which adorned the woods he called home. This place was a dead as dead could be. “I'm a bit rusty at this, haven't been around for a while. Care to help me brush up?” Aiden smirked casually as he dropped the shovel from his shoulder. "I will admit, I'm a bit rusty myself," he said, "So why don't we simply perform...mutual brushing up, if you will." Stepping forward a pace or two, Aiden kept his blade sheathed but was certainly ready to change that if the situation called for it. "I am a bit intrigued though," he said, keeping the casual tone to his voice as he spoke. "Why on earth do you want to fight here? Now? What's the point? Do you normally fall upon lone travelers and fight them, or is this a unique occurrence?" |
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| Nemael | Thu Jul 9, 2009 5:24 am Post #6 |
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Nemael's smile widened, showing nearly a full range of teeth. Like this, his mouth seemed unnaturally wide. Green eyes shimmered in anticipation. “Don't fancy yourself too special, now. Usually I play with my guests a bit before the dance. I like to play a game with them first. And if they lose, we dance. And I haven't met anyone who has finished the dance... in one piece.” He laughed. There was one woman who had physically come away, but her mind was trapped in his webs, forever his, a puppet whose strings were tied to his whims. Looking over him, at his skin and ears, he sighed. “Being an elf doesn't help either. Maybe I'm just prejudiced, but I've not met a likable elf yet.” his voice was now somber, speaking in tones of seriousness, of threats, of death. His mood was shifting rapidly. “Draw it if you like. Just keep in mind I have no quarrel with killing an unarmed foe. If you don't fight it, things tend to go quicker and easier. Smoother, even. But don't do that to me. Put up a little fight, throw a cut, hell, I'll let you bite.” He laughed coldly, his toothy smile returning in full. He looked at the man, eyes running up and down him unashamedly. He was taking in small notes, proportions, visible softness. All the good things for a delicate procedure such as this. Laughing softly, a ghost of a whisper, he shook his head, slipping both blades away. He unbuckled them and slipped both smoothly into an impossibly small pouch on his belt, the fist-and-a-half bag giving no resistance as the two blades slipped into its depths. He didn't want their weight interrupting his movements. As the bag closed, the whispers in the air ceased, echoing away. “This is too much fun to go quickly. It pays to be sloppy every once in a while.” He reached up, spidery fingers wrapping slowly around the hilt of the sword on his back. The presence in his mind gave a triumphant feeling as he pulled it free with a hiss. The spiders-legs hand guard flexed in anticipation as he swept the blade to the side, forming a straight line with his arm. The blackish blade was slightly curved, a small ridge at its base for ripping, if it were thrust that deeply into enemy, or friendly, flesh. Nemael brought it close to his chest, cradling it as he nicked the end of his finger on its tip. A bead of blood ran down the blade, dripping onto the red dirt underfoot. “Whenever you're ready.” He grinned, eyes taking on a dreamy film. |
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| swordhunter | Thu Jul 9, 2009 11:48 pm Post #7 |
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Aiden only watched as his future opponent drew his blade and stood, ready for an attack. That weapon has a wicked aura, he thought, drawing his blade slowly and taking slow steps forward. No matter the taunt, he wouldn't be charging such an opponent so quickly without at least getting some idea of his abilities. The elf knew that he'd have to be careful. Their chosen battlefield wasn't exactly the best place for evasive maneuvers. The ground was firm, it was covered with the remains of dragons long dead. Bits of bleached bone and exposed teeth were scattered across the area, yet another hindrance to quick and unplanned movements. I'll have to be precise. A wrong move could easily do more damage than good in this place. "Might I at least ask your name before we fight?" Aiden asked politely, as if he wasn't in a fight at all. "I'd love to at least know who we're fighting before we begin. I hear it helps when making headstones. . ." |
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| Nemael | Wed Jul 15, 2009 8:57 pm Post #8 |
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Nemael's eyes wandered over their battlefield, taking in the various hazards. It would be easy enough for him to maneuver. His balance was excellent, he could position his body in any way physically possible, he could teleport. Cake. His opponent, on the other hand, may have quite a bit more difficulty with faulty footing. The drow shuffled his feet back and forth, clearing a small patch of dirt. The bodies gave blind spots, another bonus for the drow's side. His gaze returning to the man in front of him, his smile only broadened. He seemed confident enough, taunting falling on deaf ears. Perhaps in another place, in a worse mood, might Nemael have had some reaction to a taunt. But here, his possibilities were endless. With Borael giving a mental backing, he was as coolheaded as he would be walking down a trail. Borael lowered, tip hovering a foot from the ground as Nemael walked towards him. “Nemael Helvirahel. And yours?” He licked his lips, lifting his blade some as he approached steadily, closing the space between them with a sure confidence. At a couple yards, he pulled his blade back and thrust it forward at the man's torso, eyes shifting to the dragon corpse behind him at the last possible second. Before the blade came too close, his body disappeared, reappearing atop the dragon, holding one of the spines in his left hand, Borael bobbing in the other. |
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| swordhunter | Wed Jul 15, 2009 9:16 pm Post #9 |
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OOC: I was really tempted to hand your char a muffin IC. Thought you should know. BinC: Aiden kept his blade in a high defensive guard, almost sure from the movement of his opponent that the fight would begin soon. I'm still at a disadvantage here, the elf thought, mentally going through what few things were in his favor. At the moment, he had very little knowledge of either his opponent or his abilities. For all eh elf knew, this drow could be a master wizard or something similar. "Let's hope not," Aiden found himself muttering aloud. To his surprise, the drow actually gave his name. “Nemael Helvirahel. And yours?” Even though he couldn't help but feel a little distaste towards someone who would start a fight so needlessly, Aiden wasn't rude enough not to return the polite gesture of giving a name. "My name is Aiden," he said politely, still waiting for the attack he knew was going to come. He edged backwards a few steps as Nemael moved forward slowly. When the strike finally came, Aiden raised his blade instinctively and lowered his torso, hoping to parry the attack and counter quickly. However, to his surprise, his opponent blinked away just moments from impact. Such speed, Aiden thought as he quickly registered the sound of movement behind him. Still facing forward, Aiden ran forward a few steps before turning on his heel and facing Nemael, sword raised again. "Nice trick," Aiden shouted, "But I'm afraid you missed. Care to try again?" |
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| Nemael | Wed Jul 15, 2009 9:39 pm Post #10 |
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Nemael smiled coolly to himself, glancing at Borael. He felt the extra power stored, waiting for his permission to imbue Borael. A new addition to his gift, he'd found a way to incorporate his magic with his weapon. Chuckling at nothing in particular, the drow allowed the power to wash over the sword. Borael's dark blade shimmered, giving off a small shimmer as the power fortified it. The feeling of power in the blade increased moderately as it became enchanted with raw magical power to add to its properties. Basking in the heat for a moment, Nemael slid down the partially-scaled side. Slicing at a dusty red-scaled patch, he smiled with satisfaction as the scales were cleaved in half with almost no effort on his behalf. Licking his lips again, He turned green eyes on the elf. “Actually, I would.” He laughed, walking closer, speed constant with that he had been doing so before. The blade swayed side to side, the gem-like stone in its pommel pulsing, beating faster as Nemael approached the man. It knew what was to come. Nemael smiled, deciding to give a scope of his power to the man. Starting low, he gave a single slash at the man's torso, placing all his mustered strength into one swing. His eyes flashed maniacally, Borael temporarily losing its grip on his stability. |
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| swordhunter | Thu Jul 16, 2009 6:15 pm Post #11 |
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Aiden waited coolly as Nemael approached. However, he was no fool. During his opponent's slow approach, he had been preparing to spring away at the earliest sign of an attack. From the looks of that sword I wouldn't be around to survive a second, Aiden reminded himself calmly. Although he felt anxious about the impending battle, he noted that for now, he had gotten a basic idea about his opponent's capabilities...and his faults. He seems easy enough to taunt into an attack, the elf noted, Perhaps I can use that to my advantage later...assuming I don't push things to far. Aiden's thoughts were interrupted as he noticed that his opponent was finally making an attack. The elf groaned inwardly as he noticed the amount of power that was being put into the strike and hoped that his sword, as strong as it was, could stand up to the blow. If it doesn't, I don't think I'll be around to complain, Aiden thought as he raised his sword to parry the blow. Within seconds, the two blades clashed and the elf instantly regretted his decision. It seemed as though an aura of...darkness washed across him, creating a sickening and draining feeling as he fought to block his opponent. Sparks flew on impact as the weight of Nemael's blade sent his own blade dangerously close to his own body. While his sword withstood the attack, the power of the strike alone was enough to send Aiden skidding a few yards. "Damn," he muttered as his boots dragged through the gravelly surface of the ancient graveyard. The elf quickly regained his footing, and his composure, and quickly leapt backwards, now raising his free hand to prepare for a spell. "Nice trick you've got there," Aiden muttered, "Let's see what else you can do. . ." |
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| Nemael | Sat Jul 18, 2009 9:51 am Post #12 |
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Nemael grinned as the blade struck. Almost immediately he regretted his decision to begin with a fully placed strike. He'd given up a small part of his secrets, but it was no matter. He had many others. Straightening his posture, the drow lifted Borael's tip to eye level, the sword's gentle arc reflecting a band of sunlight. The drow kicked a patch of dirt bare, smiling easily. Muttering under his breath, Nemael's fingers tapped on the hilt of his sword, raw magic flowing from his core, flowing down his arm, weaving itself into the tapestry of magics that resided in Borael. If one could see magic, the sight of the sword would be a blinding beacon. Nemael turned to the dragon corpse next to him, looking at the slice in the mummified hide he'd made. Without hesitation, he cut a second line in the ancient flesh, a triangular flap falling open slowly. What was left of the innards spilled out, dried, shriveled cords and bags now. The stench filled the air, a heavy, sickly sweet smell that assailed the lungs. Various gases were released, greenish clouds. Perhaps once the acidic venom of a green dragon, it had been turned to gas by the heat and lack of a functioning body. Nemael could feel his left arm beginning to tingle, the skin prickling. Quickly, he walked out of the growing cloud, keeping a wary eye on the elf, who now had one hand raised for no immediately obvious use. Nemael hissed, free hand reaching into the pouch at his hip. Pulling out a fist, he uncurled a finger to check. From the black flesh of his hand shone a green and gold gem, having a touch of magic all its own. Warily, he watched the man's hand and walked to the side, nearing a fresher corpse, scales a dusty red. |
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| swordhunter | Sat Jul 18, 2009 3:05 pm Post #13 |
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Aiden was prepared to unleash a spell, but quickly rethought his strategy when Nemael produced a strange green and golden colored gem. With his limited knowledge of magical items, Aiden couldn't tell exactly what powers the stone possessed, but he could tell that the object contained a great bit of arcane strength. I'll have to think about the worse scenario, the elf reminded himself, If I launch a magic attack now, there's a possibility that stone could block it. I'll have to be careful and wait to use a strong attack when there's little chance of a counter. The elf stepped forward slowly, keeping both his hand and his sword raised defensively. He walked in a large ring around his opponent, both gauging his enemy's defenses and trying to think of a suitable plan. Slowly, Aiden got an idea and moved quickly to implement it. The elf ran forward towards Nemael at full speed, quickly closing the meters of distance between them. Have to be careful of that poisonous cloud, too, he thought as he ran. When he had closed to within a yard or two of Nemael, he brought forward his free hand and shouted, "Pilin!" As he spoke the word, he threw his hand forward, unleashing a magical arrow which sped towards Nemael. At the same time, Aiden leapt forward, slashing his sword down in a vicious attack with his other hand. . . |
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| Nemael | Sat Jul 18, 2009 9:19 pm Post #14 |
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Nemael's fist clenched around the gem, shifting a scale aside on the ground next to the dragon, the barest patch in the immediate area. Nemael eyed the man as he walked a circle, readying his own spell as he circled. Keeping his back to the corpse, The elf laughed softly, covering up a quiet, quick spell casting. The spell budded within, ready to be released. The jet of magic was coming his way, his chest in the area of impact. Twisting his body to the left, he let it open a hole in the dragon's corpse. The smell of blood filled the air as coagulated beads dripped down the side. Surprisingly fresh, he could use this to his advantage. But that wasn't his concern now. Placing a foot against the body, he pushed forward, Borael coming from beneath. The demon blade turned sideways to swipe away the sword, other hand working fast to slip away the gem and bring out one of his easily-reachable dirks, coming up close and thrusting the small dagger at the elf's side. Nemael released the magic at the ready, his form disappearing and reappearing atop one of the dragon corpses. He began a new casting, this time aiming his blade at the earth while speaking in place of using his hands. Borael hummed, channeling his magic as a focusing tool for his darker spells, its power imbuing any evil or necromancy spells with a touch of fear. Lifting the blade to his left, he swiped it down, stopping with its blade perpendicular to the ground. Now he wore a grin as whispering filled the air, rising to a chorus of screams, the souls of the damned audible from their endless torture, the voices from below echoing around the graveyard, focusing on Aiden as their target. [Howls of the Abyss] |
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| swordhunter | Sat Jul 18, 2009 11:32 pm Post #15 |
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Aiden's sword lashed out towards Nemael's torso as the elf hoped that his opponent wouldn't be able to deal with two closely timed attacks. However to his dismay, his sword was brushed aside by Nemael's powerful horizontal swing. Oh darn, was all the elf thought as he suddenly found himself twisting to the right against his will. To make matters worse, he saw a dirk sailing in towards his unprotected side at the same time. "Great," Aiden grunted. He thought quickly, using the momentum produced by Nemael's horizontal attack to continue twisting in midair. What would've been a fatal chest wound suddenly became a manageable, glancing blow. The elf grimaced as the blade cut through his cloak and lightly bit into his skin, but realized that the damage could've been much worse. The elf suddenly realized that he was open to an effective counterattack, but was saved somewhat by the fact that his opponent had blinked away again. "Useful trick," Aiden muttered, raising his sword as he searched for his opponent. He didn't have to wait long before Aiden found him atop a dragon carcass a moderate distance away. Even from this distance, Aiden could tell that his opponent was launching a spell. "Finally getting serious, I see," Aiden muttered, bringing his free hand up again and beginning another incantation. However, the elf soon realized that Nemael had already launched his spell....with devastating results. Within seconds, Aiden felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach which grew into a general feeling of dread and despair. I know what this is, Aiden thought, pained. He had suffered the effects of this spell before...and liked it no more than the last time. However, he knew what had to be done in the meantime. "Distance," he gasped, turning on his heel and running as far as he could. Thankfully this graveyard was a big place. Aiden hoped that he would be able to put enough distance between him and his opponent to at least lessen the effects of this spell to launch a magic attack of his own. . . |
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5:33 PM May 23
