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The Hunt: Part Four
Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2019 7:13 pm
by Taelian
39th of Glade, Year 114
Taelian's blade met with the dying Cardinal's talons. He fended off an incoming sweep, and then pushed back with the blunt flat of his blade, attempting to apply enough force to throw her claws away from their defensive posturing. The wrestle between the two of them was brief, and ultimately did not yield positive results for the Ebon Knight. She instead pushed his blade aside, and managed to swipe forward just enough to lay shallow cuts across the exterior of his skin, ripping just slightly through his padded leather armor. Taelian stepped back, gathering some distance and swiped forward, cutting across the surface of the Dranoch's armored claws.
Her hand reeled back, and Taelian immediately responded by slamming the end of his blade again into the courtyard's stone foundations, creating another rising Trail that pursued her. As it did, he prepared a Flamelance in his grip, channeling a greater model of the same flaming pike. As he conjured it he noticed the increase of length and width, and once it was released it was flung with much greater velocity than before, ripping through her shoulder muscles despite a sudden strafe by the Cardinal.
His chest started to hurt, bad. He was nauseous and his lips had begun to dry at a dramatic pace, cracking and bleeding. It was the strange beginnings of threshold sickness, borne of his relative inexperience and the consistent usage of the Sigil in these consecutive battles. He wasn't skilled enough for something like this. Not by any means.
Taelian glanced at the combat between Vendrael and Randil. One of the Dranoch's arms flew from his torso as Vendrael swiped through his flesh with his offhand axe, before quickly rending the Dranoch's remaining arm from his body. Kicking the Cardinal onto the floor, Vendrael drew his axes together against the man's neck, and executed him. His head severed, there was no coming back.
It was one against two. Finally. With so many Ebon Knights lain dead in the Palisade's halls, it was good to know that it was worth it. That Glairen would die.
"It's the end of the road for you," said the Revenant. He kicked Randil's body back to fall flat onto the courtyard floor, blood pooling from the stump of his neck.
"Is that supposed to please you?" she asked.
As Vendrael turned, Taelian could see a deep wound through the core of his abdomen. It was seething with a strange sort of magical blight -- a parasite of course, eating through his interior. He was rapidly dying, and had no time to spare for words. The man quickly ran towards Lady Glairen, both axes extended out to each side, and swung at her with a flurry of vicious swipes. The majority went through, gutting her and ripping across her form until she was covered in bone-deep lacerations that could not be regenerated from. Vendrael's weapons were still alight with the Beacon's fire.
He beheaded her, too. Secured the kill; ensured that all of this would truly be worth it after all.
It all happened so quickly. Taelian was only now beginning to realize that he would be adrift in Silfanore alone.
"Vendrael," the Cleric quietly regarded his dying mentor. He was a Revenant, bond to the Bedchamber. He would come back once he died; all that was left was to...
"Burn my face," the man asked of him. "I can't even channel my ether. Something... is foreign in me. In my body, and deeper. The Cardinal who fought me -- he was a practitioner of some... dark magic. I'm sure of it," the gristled Siltori grunted.
Taelian held his blade outward, Enkindled, the surface covered in a heated aura. He would grant the man's request for anonymity, though he knew he would see him soon.
Re: The Hunt: Part Four
Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2019 9:33 pm
by Taelian
Not everyone had been so lucky. Temiril, Vilara, Irina... they all died for good. And Darnan, of course; Darnan. One of Taelian's only friends in what must have been his entire life. They had been recruited around the same time, and the Ashwraith had only been a few years older. He was the only rolemodel Taelian wanted; someone who lived well regardless of his own fallibility. Who believed in a higher cause and could stand to put aside his cynicism, yet a man who could relate to and understand the pessimistic lens from which others viewed their world. He was a man of compassion and grace, and now he was a man fallen to pure arbitration, happening to be the one standing furthest back to protect the group's flank. No one was primed to protect him, however, apparently the greatest at risk of them all.
And the rest -- the other three, they were all so brave. Taelian would never forget how well Vilara fought, right before her death, doing an immeasurable amount of damage to Glairen and saving the young Cleric's life. He wouldn't have been able to fend her off for even a trill had she not been beaten so severely, only for the Ashwraith to be killed by another act of trickery. And how much worse it could have gone; had Gratiana known, had anyone else known...
Taelian left the west wing, covered in blood from head-to-toe, and the scent of charred fabric. He could not imagine surviving, but he tried to creep as silently as he could, operating solely on instinct as his mind was clouded by what he could only view as trauma.
Once he had gotten far enough outside of the Palisade proper, he was found by the Ashwraith they had stationed in the city, who took the notes they left to heed. He guided Taelian back to the safe house and helped him to get re-dressed, to leave his weapon and other gear behind, to remove the scent of Dranoch gore and to fit in well with the commoners of the Pyred Bedlam to whom he once belonged.
It was difficult to tread through the city as he was. He couldn't deny that there was an unmistakable glint of terror upon his face, miring his complexion. He did not even necessarily hope that the Dranoch wouldn't notice. The Famished man had no idea what to feel, and in some way returned to the shell of being a Famished; the wide-eyed stare chilled into a cool and empty expression, and as the time came to pass through the city gates he was so uninspiring to look at that they failed to even ask for his papers.
He wandered back along the edge of the Mirrorlands, to the Citadel Gallows, and found himself standing once again before the great gates.
Re: The Hunt: Part Four
Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2019 9:33 pm
by Taelian
Not long after he returned, he made his way to the Bedchamber under a Revenant's supervision to view the rebirth of his fallen mentor. Vendrael rose from his deep brown colored coffin, garnering a second wind of furious enthusiasm. He leaped out of it, bare nude, and grinned as he chased down the smaller man that had accompanied him in the felling of Lady Glairen, suppressing any mediocre attempt at resistance with the overwhelming force of what was only a half-baked tackle. "We did it," Vendrael mused, turning to face his fellow Revenant but keeping one arm locked around Taelian's shoulder and the side of his neck.
"That evil bitch has died," he cheered. "We haven't done something that good since we killed Dalen -- and it was a Cleric that made it back! Taelian, I always knew you were something exceptional. Either that, or you're damn lucky."
The Famished banked on the latter, but he had not the mental stamina to respond to almost anything. He only wanted to know if the man would really come back; if there was some shred left of that expedition other than him. Somehow, Vendrael -- even though he had helped to make Taelian the damaged man he was -- his presence made everything all the better. The trauma receded somehow, all of the unnecessary death and loss of faces and identities he'd known for so long . . . through the remainder of one static figure in his life.
It was sad to dismiss even a portion of that pain so easily, but he was glad that he could. It was good to see Vendrael again, and he would tell him that many times. The Court of Dusk would fail to groom a candidate so close to ascending Dalen's place as they did Glairen, and somehow -- insignificant though he was -- the Famished Cleric had helped just enough to change the tides of his realm, even if it was after all purely from his own stupid touch of luck.
Re: The Hunt: Part Four
Posted: Fri Dec 13, 2019 9:56 pm
by Nyx
Come Get Your Rewards
Experience Earned: 5/5
Magical?: 2 points Sigilic Pyromancy (minimal use)
Lore Earned:
Blades: Attempting to disarm a foe
Blades: Locking blades with an enemy's weapon
Sigilic Pyromancy: Chaining Trail and Flamelance together
Sigilic Pyromancy: Flamelance improves with mastery
Sigilic Pyromancy: The beginnings of threshold sickness
Stealth: Escaping a place you've infiltrated
Ills and Ailments: None
Loot: +5 Black Remedy progression points
Reviewer Notes: Am I allowed to love-hate Vendrael? Because I feel really bad for Taelian. I'll go ahead and say he was able to avoid any type of overstepping since it really wouldn't matter too much in modern time, but you wrote it well how he was starting to get close. I can appreciate that. Otherwise, the battle was really well. For forgot to mention it in the last thread review, but you do a really good job writing the fight scenes, I quite enjoyed getting to read them. Even if I'm slightly salty Vendrael got to live still... I kinda already miss the others and they were literally one off characters for the time being. They treated Taelian better tho. Poor baby. If he wasn't a Famished he'd probably be traumatized. Make sure you give him a treat after this. Thank for the read, as always I love your writing. Enjoy your rewards!