i'll make it up to you
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#1
Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
"Will you show us the blight?"

So it begins: Amalia pestering Delah once more, and the warchief reluctantly agreeing. At least she agreed, the baker thinks. She would like to believe she is wearing her down, that Delah has come to have some respect for the girl- but honestly she knows it is Jyoti's effect, the starwhale some sort of compulsion, a balm, a branding the Fae simply cannot deny.

In stoic silence they travel through the woods, the barefoot girl and her starlit calf following the warchief without complaint. After her questions were met with such consternation, she is reluctant to voice the million on her tongue (and oh, there are millions, always, always, always). Instead she tries to stifle curiosity, resulting in a strange and somewhat constipated affect, uneasy and quivering with the need to know.

She does not want to demand: she wants to be told, to have Delah trust respect her enough to impart the knowledge of this place. And so she bites her tongue, carrying on, her sharp eyes seeking any sign of illness in the plants that shift and dance in the woods.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#2
DELAH
"This is what your presence has done." Delah all but growls, parting the greenery with her magic.

The forest seems to welcome the tiny predator who slinks through its limbs even though she is still cloaked in her fae-body. But it bends and moves slowly like something old, but something sickly as well.

"Here, can you see it?" Delah asks with something like a skeptical sneer, as if expecting Amalia's newness to the forest to somehow prevent her from seeing its sickness. Aw large tree with a tangle of roots scattered amidst the soil has a strange...blackness growing up it. Like a smattering of fungus—though it clearly isn't—the black is ebony-dark with flecks of exotic and destructive blue.

"And there—" The warchief points to a grouping of plants that has blackened holes in its leaves, bearing the same blacky-bluish foreign destruction.
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#3
Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
Amalia follows Delah's eyes, moving closer to look at the patches of black upon the trees. Dark as coal with sapphire flecks, it is impossible not to notice on the bark, immediately recognizable as foreign. Kneeling in the dirt beside the roots, she reaches out with careful fingers, hesitating before they touch the substance, as if afraid of what she will find. "It looks like the Spire," the baker murmurs, half to the warchief and half to herself.

There is more, now that she knows where to look: on bark and leaf, rising from the earth. Amalia is not gardener; she has no idea what to do, how to contribute any sort of aid. But she has her suspicions of what this might be from, an inorganic figure coming to mind. "Have you asked the Gods for advice? Or the Tulmhainar? I can look in the Antheneum for anything, but..." She shrugs and rises, clutching her arms, chewing anxiously at her lip, her hands working nervously upon her sleeves. "I am sorry we caused this. But I... I haven't seen anything like it, in the barrier. Except that... it almost looks like the Spire, where the New Gods were locked away."
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#4
DELAH
"Don't—" Delah hisses instantly, her hand suddenly flying out to grasp Amalia's wrist. There is a snarl on her face—but not of anger, of concern—as she turns to look at Amalia. Realizing she is still holding the girl's arm the war chief quickly drops it, a scowl asserting itself onto her small features. "It isn't safe. Don't touch it unless you want to die." She adds with a bristle as if compensating.

Flatly, Delah crosses her arms. "Oh, what a helpful little child you are! Ask the gods, or the Tulmhainar? What a brilliant idea, I wonder why I hadn't thought of it." With a snort, Delah shakes her head. "Of course we have asked and the answer is the same. It is you. Your presence here. The fall of the barrier. Those ascended being back in the world." That Amalia thinks it is similar to the Spire only makes the fae bark an unhappy laugh. "I don't doubt it. "
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#5
Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
Delah's small hand on her wrist is a strange surprise, and the girl stares at it with wide almond eyes as if she is afraid the touch will burn. When at last the Fae releases her she brings it to her chest, left hand rubbing unconsciously over the spot as she listens to Delah speak. "What happens to people who touch it?" she asks, though perhaps the answer has already been given: they die. Frowning, Amalia gives the black spots one more look before returning her attention to the Fae.

It is not that the girl doubted the Fae had done any of the things she suggested; more, she does not know what to suggest. Sighing, she reaches up to rub her neck, expression rueful and chagrined. "The ascended..." she repeats, looking down, wishing she could do anything, knew something that might help. At least Delah's abrasive disdain does not hurt so much, is less of a brand than when they first met. Humming thoughtfully, she casts her eyes further into the forest. "Maybe... maybe there are answers in the Spire... or maybe it has a source there. If there is a Tulmhainar inside, it might know..."
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#6
DELAH
For a moment Delah just stares at Amalia, her fingers tensing. Pain prickles on her tongue and in her throat as the lie forms itself on her lips. Grimacing, the war chieftess exhales. "I don't know. I haven't been so foolish as to let anyone try."

Delah is nearly ready to roll her eyes at Amalia's theorizing, until her final words stop her dead. "A what in the where?" Delah demands, nostrils flaring and moss-green eyes suddenly wide and vibrant.
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#7
Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
Amalia does not notice Delah's grimace; or if she does, she simply writes it off as further evidence of the fae's distaste. The fact that Delah does not actually know what will happen if it is touched sends a tremor of concern through her spine. "Someone will," she murmurs softly, her eyes narrowing as she looks at the blight. "A child, or an animal. It would be good to know what it does before that, and how to counteract it." Her mother would know what to do.

Her mother, however, is dead.

She cannot say that Delah's new outburst is any surprise. Amalia has been bracing herself for this since she decided to tell the fae, knowing that the Tulmhainar are a sacred thing, that Delah could only hate her further for leaving one in the Spire's base. Running her hand through her hair, she forces herself to meet the warchief's acid gaze. "I didn't know what it was until I came here... I still don't know for sure. But when the Spire was breached I saw - well - I think it was a Tulmhainar, now. But I... I thought it was dead. The people who went in, the ones I tried to stop, they..." Killed it dies upon her lips, but it is implied by her silence, the way she swallows and looks away, fresh shame and self-abasement rising to her face.

"Safrin, though... she thinks it might still be alive. So I am going to find a way in, and see if I can rescue it."
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#8
DELAH
"One of you might. The animals are smart enough to stay away. And children? Ours know the woods better than they know their own minds." Delah adds dismissively. "But if you would like to be the first, by all means. It isn't as though you barrier-folk listen to us anyways."

As Amalia speaks, the colour seems to drain from Delah's face leaving only the apples of her cheeks flaring red, and her verdant gaze wide with horror. "Dead?" She breathes incredulously. "But...it can't be." Swallowing she too runs a steadying hand through her dark hair, before folding her arms once more. "How did this happen? Who would kill such a creature?" Delah demands.

The mention of Safrin seems to calm the warchief slightly, the snarl on her lip spreading out somewhat. "Then there is no time to lose." Delah declares decisively. "We go now."
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#9
Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
Amalia inhales sharply at Delah's ashen face, her demand for how and who bigger, more difficult questions than the girl knows how to answer. Shaking her head, the girl tries to format a response that makes some sense. There are too many faces from that night, too many emotions, too much fear. "Outlanders," she replies, bitterness in her alto voice... though to be fair, that is not strictly true. "And Naturals, too. Roana, and Maea, and others I didn't know... they didn't listen when we told them not to breach it. And they... they tried to kill everything inside, except the Voice." The only thing in there that truly deserved to die.

The charitable thing to say is that they were trying there best. But Amalia has not been feeling particularly charitable of late, especially following her spat with Roana, the Outlander woman inciting an anger she did not know she possessed. She is saved from falling into introspection by Delah's sudden call to action, her head jerking up (down, actually, but the effect was the same) to look at the staunch warchief, surprised but emboldened. "Okay," she agrees instantly. "But if we're going to do this, we should get help. Safrin suggested people with earth magic. I know a couple, back home..." She trails off, an open invitation for Delah to add whoever she chose to the contingent. If the Fae wanted to bring her people, Amalia would not stop her. This was their mission, now.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#10
DELAH
"Roana." Delah repeats, her teeth tightly clenched. "Is she by chance...a captain. A warrior?" Suddenly her tone is taught like a bowstring, eyes fixed and firm. There was a woman who appeared in the woods...a woman who said her name was Roana. And it was Ianto who had rescued her. Ianto who had lied.

"If there truly is a tulmhainar there, even if it is dead, it must be found." Placing her fingers to her lips and whistling sharply, a handful of faces suddenly emerge from the foliage around them. Their illusion magic is impeccable, and they simply seem to breathe away from the trees around them. "I will not hesitate to sacrifice any of your people to save the life of the tulmhainar, or to bring it home." There is no apology in Delah's voice, but also no threat either. "Consider that when you chose who you would bring."
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
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#11
Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
"I soldier, I think... from Northaven, like many of the Outlanders." She does not know why Delah is so angry, what may have happened between them before. Though part of her thrilled with the potential for an ally, a shared displeasure with a common foe. Amalia has not forgiven Roana for her part in the takedown of the Spire, the freedom of the Voice and the death within.

Especially now that she suspects a tulmhainar may be among those dead.

She tries not to bristle as fae surround her, hands bunching into fists among her shirt. Shifting her jaw, Amalia meets Delah's mossy eyes, understanding if not acceptance in the stubborn lines of her face. She will not let her people be hurt- but the warchief likely knows as much, from their prior conversations and fights. "My friends can handle themselves," she replies, nodding her consent to their newfound mission.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#12
DELAH
Nostrils flared, for a moment the green of Delah's eyes is ringed by a predatory gold. She marks this treachery in her memory and commits to finding both Roana and Ianto and demanding an explanation.

Delah nods dismissively at Amalia's show of faith in her friends. It is not for the warchief to decide its truthfulness or even care. If they die, the girl has been warned.

"Let's go then."

~FIN
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide


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