Key Quest stonewall
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#43
there’s a light that you give me when I’m in shadow
The sounds all around were nearly indecipherable. From Phoebe's cry for Frey to the creature that arrived, the smell of electricity and the shouts from within, Remi's mind was a blur that couldn't possibly hope to reconcile the scene around him.

What he could do though, was feel the walls, and feel them begin to buckle.

"HNnnnnnnn—! " The alchemist suddenly groaned, his voice rising into a wail as he sucked in a breath and focused all his attention on maintaining the structure of the ceiling and the walls around them. Even as Deimos began to pull him out, the reaper would feel the alchemist's body shuddering and shaking with the momentous effort of trying to prevent another cave-in.

"Are they—" Remi gasped, collapsing onto the ground in a winded pile, barely able to catch his breath. "Isla can—" He tried again, biting his lip as he continued to hold up the structure of the cave.

"Tell me...when..every one is..out...I cannot hold..it...much..." Letting his head hit the ground, Remi continued to oscilate between panting and holding his breath, in a final effort to keep the rocks where they were.
there’s a feeling within me, an everglow

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#44
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

The sudden appearance of the earth spirit made Phoebe gasp and fall backward, amazed by the might of the being. It made quick work of the monster and the rockslide that followed. When it acknowledged her she smiled and nodded respectfully, Pim running up beside her. ”Thank you so much for your assistance.” she said to the spirit as it disappeared. Her attention then was suddenly taken by the group in need of rescue. Phoebe recognized almost all of them, and her brows knit together in concern as she rushed forward, her medic’s instinct taking over as soon as Deimos spoke her name.

”Isla! We need you, this man is badly hurt! You'll have
have to carey him! ”
she called back as she hurried to Are, who she didn’t know but was clearly struggling under the stone that pinned him. They had to get the rock off of him so he could be healed. She shoved her entire bodyweight against the boulder, and as luck would have it the top heavy thing rolled off the man when Pim rammed against it alongside her. ”My name is Phoebe, we need to get you out of here, is there any way you can stand?” she asked the man, trying to assess the extent of the damage. Crush injuries were the most difficult to treat. As gently as she could, she ran her fingers along his ribs, trying to see if any breaks seemed as though they might have punctured the lungs. Hopefully Isla could heal him enough that he could get on her back.

”If anyone has breaks, I can set those in a minute but we need to get everyone out!” Phoebe called out to the group. Worst first. "Deimos, Wessex, pick up anyone who can't walk!" she said, a hint of command in her tone. They needed out. Remi wouldn't hold the cave long.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#45
He was not used to having to suffer broken bones for any length of time. He had become far too reliant on magical healing on his world, the nigh-instant touch of wand or kiss of potion righting the wrongs of a shattered body, or even the rush of power and relief from his own healing spells. Sitting in the dark, with gritted teeth and pain lancing through him every time he shifted his arm, was an exercise in fortitude that he would rather have done without.

Proud as he was, the battered bard still leaned in to Rory's strength, taking comfort from his partner's presence even as he wished the hunter had been anywhere else that day than traipsing through the woods with him, trying to find an example of the diseased place Arduinna had shown him. Instead Delah had found them and then the earth had given way beneath them all...

The pain left little concentration for being diplomatic with the Fae warchief, even if they hadn't been distracted by the ominous rumblings and shouts of combat beyond their boulder-locked prison. The ceiling shook and pattered dust and small rocks down onto them and Jigani winced, furred fox ears twitching as he tried to make sense of the muffled sounds that reached them through the darkness.

Ears that instinctively melted away to human again at the first sign of light through the rocks as a tunnel to freedom was opened once more. He blinked against the near-blinding illumination from the distant day, then forced himself up as the voices were given faces - faces he knew. "I can wait," he coughed through the dust, nodding their rescuers towards Are instead, now that he could see how bad the other man's wounds were. He leaned his good shoulder into Rory for a moment, urging the hunter towards the light, but instead of following him the bard took a slight detour...

Towards Delah and her people.

"Warchief?" he said, voice hesitant as he winced and offered the petite warrior his good hand, keeping his broken arm cradled against his chest. "I mean no offense, but would you allow me to offer you aid? We fell down here together... and there's a certain symmetry in leaving together, as well. Please?"
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 31 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6 - Int:
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301 | Total: 311
MP: 0
#46


Are
Damn it.

Gods damn it.

Gods damn it all to whatever Hel came after!

Livid was far too kind words to describe the fuming, shivering pile of arms, armor, crushed flesh and bone that seethed with impotent rage and adrenaline. Another stab into the land of the cursed Álfar had got him lost worse than when he visited the Labyrinth. Only to run into a whole bunch of them and... What had happened between unslinging his shield and waking up pinned like a bug was not even a blur. It just wasn't.

He wanted to shout, to yell, to thrash, and to rip the offending boulder to pieces, but all that came of his efforts was a faint wheezing, gurgling cough and a mouthful of iron-tasting foulness spat out. A ragged breath made him come to it enough to realize the light above could just as well had been the Valkyries coming for him. At least the ego was still intact.

The question broke through his hazy mind, as the wave of power was dying down. In it's wake came what he so had feared. Pain. Deep, throbbing, at first, but soon growing tenfold, hundredfold. Until his world was nothing but searing daggers following the blood returning to his crushed legs. A labored breath finally given wings and escaping his throat a desperate groan, a whimper from a dying dog. A dog looking up at Phoebe with eyes pleading for release. "No, I'm going, and fast, Phoebe." he managed to whisper between gasps for air and painful grimaces.

What little resolve still left in his mangled corpse was mustered, a single word, a single memory a beacon to keep pushing. Not for the gods, not for glory, but for her. "But I'll make it. I have to. Signe's waiting." Are said, to Phoebe, to himself, and laughed weakly.
Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf Offline
Change author:
Posts: 397 | Total: 642
MP: 970
#47
"I'm never going into the forest again," had been the first thing he (rather calmly) had said after the world had disappeared beneath his feet. He had been lying on his side at that point, thrown down like a no longer interesting toy, rubble and ruin around him, his remark likely lost in the noise of his fellow earth-prisoners finding out how broken they were. Rory had figured out rather fast that he was just bruised and a bit battered (and shaken), but not everyone was so lucky.

Out of politeness he had kept away from Delah and the Fae contingent trapped with them, realizing instead that Jigano had a broken arm, Amalia was about as fine as he, and Are was .. not having the best day in his life. At least he was alive, and he seemed stable (ish), but there wasn't a whole lot they could do about it.

So he had spent his time in landslide jail alternating between trying to find a way out and just sitting next to Jigano.

But once it became clear that their pleas were heard and—the earth opened up again—Rory dashed to his feet, an animal torn between standing his ground or fleeing, only there was no way to go. If the trembling cavern chose to collapse on them...

Fear was fast and flighty and in his chest. He fought to slow his breathing again, seeing the familiar faces against the sudden and bright light—Deimos, Phoebe, Remi, Wessex... He wanted to bolt to the day beyond, into the free air, but he was acutely aware of Jigano, of Delah, of Are, and for a moment he was a rock and the world the ocean spilling around him—

But one thing quickly became obvious: they had to get out now. He didn't understand it, but he saw it, Remi collapsing...

"We have to get out now," he said, echoing Phoebe, though he wasn't sure for whose benefit he spoke. Uncomfortable and afraid he drifted after Jigano, towards the Fae. "Do any of you need support?" he asked uncertainly.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#48
WESSEX
out of the night that covers me
The creature is defeated - for now - but the trembling walls tell her they’re not out of harm’s way yet. Muttering colorful curses to herself again, she looks up, and then looks around. Orders are yelled, the girl tries to boss her around (stupid git, she would have gone for the wounded and unable to walk anyway, what does she look like, an amateur?), but nobody really moves. Except for Deimos, pulling Remi out. Good man. “EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE NOW!”

Friend or foe, that ceiling didn’t care; it was coming down whether they liked it or not.

Springing forward, Wessex raises her arm and calls out for the unicorn. “Isla! Take Are out.” Moving towards the crushed giant, she doesn’t wait to assess his wounds when the death rattle is on his lips. Phoebe can try to stop her, but she asks the unicorn to kneel down, then moves to pick up (use those knees!) and nudge/roll/pick up the man onto her back, hoping the younger blonde will hop on behind and hold him till they get out.

If the others haven’t moved yet, she goes to them, to Delah and her group, to the foolish scribe wasting time by asking, to Rory, who was being too kind and patient. “MOVE or I’ll fucking PICK YOU UP so you DON’T DIE,” she spits out, pushing them all roughly towards the light, refusing to listen to protests and worries. No one was going to get crushed. Not on their watch - although, technically, drinking from Remi that much definitely didn’t help him hold the ceiling up. That was her bad. Oops.

Amalia can walk. She isn’t worried about that one.

Wessex does her best to herd the battered group out of the cave, life and death in her harsh words and bladed tongue.
black as the pit from pole to pole
i thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul
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
Change author:
Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#49
A m a l i a
It was a fascinating turn of events. One moment they have all met, serendipitously, upon solid ground. The next the ground is giving out, and they are falling, human and fae alike, tumbling into darkness together, trapped beneath the earth. At least they have light: Jyoti works diligently to fill the cavern with stars, soothing and investigating, while Amalia tries her hand at aid. She is remarkably uninjured, having nothing but the blossom of a bruise upon her hip, so she focuses on others for the time being, tearing her tunic into a sling for Jigano, sitting by Are while the starwhale kept watch, trying to soothe the cobbler's anxiety, to keep him from going too far into shock. The fae she leaves largely alone, confident in their ability to tend to their wounds, though dark eyes shoot worried glances at Delah, nods exchanged silently to assure she does right.

Their rescue cannot come soon enough. When it does, it feels like sunrise is breaking into their small prison, like the world has finally opened up. The figures who greet them are unexpected, but not unwelcome: Phoebe, whose sweetness extends now to bravery; Remi, who looks nearly dead himself; Wessex, bold and authoritative as ever; and Deimos, who blooms in her mind like a beacon, squeezing her heart with grateful relief. Rising as the midwife rushes to Are's aid, Amalia steps back and allows them to take charge, suddenly wanting nothing but to escape this cave. With Jyoti swimming beside her she rushes to Deimos, the briefest of touches exchanged in reassurance before she slips against Remi's side, offering the alchemist further support, a mental pulse of affection and reassurance and gratitude arcing between their minds. "Thank you," she says to him, to them both. "They're almost out - just another minute. Everyone's alive and safe, because of you."
She is messy, but she's kind
She is lonely most of the time
She is all of this mixed up
and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone, but she used to be mine
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:
Played by: Admin Offline
Change author:
Posts: 156 | Total: 3,209
MP: 0
#50
DELAH
With arms slung over the shoulders of her kin and her wings buzzing to help keep the weight off of her shattered leg, the warchief had no spare limbs with which to shake Jigano 's hand. "Symmetry?" Delah barked a laugh wrought with pain in response to the bard's offer. What an absolutely ridiculous suggestion.

In voices like gravel and falling leaves, the fae declined all offers of aid. One winced an apologetic look towards Rory and Jigano, but as a unit they moved as one. Delah grumbles a sound like gruff approval at Wessex brazen' instructions, though she doesn't linger or give actual words to confirm this praise.

As the cluster of fae find themselves back into the light, Delah turns a head over her shoulder, eyes focused on Amalia. "Two days. Heal yourselves. And remember what I said." She ordered, her eyes roaming over Are, Jigano, and Rory disapprovingly, before falling suggestively back to Amalia with a raised brow.

With a quick nod to Remi who has clearly been supporting the structure, Delah turns back to her warriors. Then, with a sound like bees and rain, the fae lift off and depart.
In places deep
With roots entwined
I live the life I left behind
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#51
there’s a light that you give me when I’m in shadow
Having once had the mind of a woman proves very useful just now, as Isla does not require her counterpart to translate the words shouted in her direction. Moving swiftly towards Phoebe and Are, the unicorn flicks a tulip-shaped ear behind her to hear the sounds of Wessex' commands. In her own bones she can feel Remi's strength sapping, and she nods in decisive agreement with the ascended's judging of the situation. Using her body to aid Wessex in moving Are, as soon as he is deposited into the sunlight and on the ground, Isla lowers a horn towards his chest. Light blooms from the tip, and the cobbler will feel a warming sort of wave permeating through his bones. Stitching back together shredding arteries and muscles and adding strength back to his soul. She cannot heal him completely, not after what she has already done for Deimos, but it is enough to keep him stable for now.

Meanwhile, with eyes clasped shut and his teeth clenched, the alchemist can feel unconsciousness settling upon him like cool shade. Feeling Amalia in his mind makes him gasp for a moment, blind eyes opening instinctively though the world is entirely black. Raising a hand previously dug into the earth, Remi reaches for the baker's hand if only to help anchor him in this world. "Are...they..." He gasps, face devoid of colour save for the bright spots of crimson burning on his cheeks.
there’s a feeling within me, an everglow

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#52
His offer of help was rebuffed, though it really wasn't unexpected. Jigano bowed his head in acceptance of her choice, and gave the one Fae who seemed uncertain a wry smile. Once the (other) injured were safely on their way out he followed, letting Rory lead him towards the light, now and always. Isla's skills were already put to good use in bringing the cobbler back from the brink, and the bard knew he could wait until those who were worse off received aid first. A day or two with a broken arm would be frustrating, but hardly the end of him. He nodded his thanks to Deimos as he reached the big man, safely outside the tunnel now, with a murmured: "I owe you one, friend."

Even as he leaned on Rory's strength he offered his own comfort in the warm solidity of his body as the nightmare of the claustrophobic little cavern they'd been trapped in began to be washed away by the sunlight and open air around them now. But Delah's parting shot to Amalia did not go unnoticed, and his brow furrowed as he looked between the two women, one small and the other tall, but both fierce in their own ways.

He arched a brow at her, curiosity clearly eating at him, but like his arm that, too would wait. "We should get back to the Infirmary," he said quietly instead, looking around at those gathered and their various wounds. Are, of course, needed a bed and further care beyond Isla's magic, but his own arm and Deimos's bruises looked in need of a bit of doctoring as well, and Remi was clearly suffering from something he couldn't see. At least the others didn't look hurt too badly, though he wasn't sure how well Wessex would do if she remained in the sunlight for very long, even beneath her cloak.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#53
DEIMOS
Delivered from the blasts
Cacophonies and exchanges, a blending and lending of power and contribution: this was how chaos unfurled and then restored itself, with people, with intonations, with powers and prestige. It was a strange, eerie, enigmatic sensation of sanctuary, even as they were barely outside the cave, even as they could hardly breathe, even as they traversed, stumbled, and bombarded their way to those lost, rescued, and escaped. He nodded his weary thanks to many as they passed by, proffering an extension to Wessex for her loud declarations and proclamations, for Phoebe, who granted and twisted her own sense of munitions, for Jigano, a wry smile, because the bard truly didn’t owe him anything.

The one he owed was fighting off waves of exhaustion, and as Amalia came forth, offering her services (his jaw clenched, his heart was an unsettled, riotous thing), Deimos bent down, lingered along Remi’s side. “They are safe,” he murmured, allowing the alchemist his opportunity to be done with the entire affair. Then he shuffled him back into his arms, intending to carry him the rest of the journey home.

As he rose, his eyes cast around the scene again – trying to identify if there was anyone else at a loss, without aid, without someone to guide them to safety. He followed after Wessex’s bark, providing one of his own, loud and booming, prospered deep from his bruised and beaten chest. “Everyone set?” Then they could go to further havens and sanctuaries, heal properly, rest, until the next pandemonium, the next rising interval of bedlam and menace.
the last of a line of lasts
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#54
there’s a light that you give me when I’m in shadow
The words were like a wave of relief that crashed over the alchemist's weary senses. Trusting the reaper implicitly, Remi released his hold over the earth and as he did so, the remainder of the cave came crashing down. Heart hammering in his chest and dizziness sweeping over him, he hardly felt himself being lifted. Once he realized it though, Remi's smile grew crooked despite its weariness.

"I can be smaller—" He managed through lips that were suddenly too dry. His body rapidly shrunk in Deimos' arms until he was nothing but a darkened ball of fur; a raccoon was much easier to carry than a man, after all.
there’s a feeling within me, an everglow

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)


RPG-D