Fantasy ~Magistone: Western IC Group~

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a79ca9a_Stephen_50.jpg.2a7bd4216727916e64d1fe6dff44417b.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="65381" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c3a79ca9a_Stephen_50.jpg.2a7bd4216727916e64d1fe6dff44417b.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Stephen felt strong hands lift him up from the sodden beach where his blood freely mixed with the newly falling rain. He groaned with fatigue at the effort, but managed to mostly get his feet under him and with the support of his benefactors they scrambled away from the oncoming rush of yet more hounds. Damn, I hate being right, he thought as the exhaustion from his fighting and weak control over his element sapped what remaining strength he had.


Unconsciously, Stephen had somehow managed to maintain his grip on his broadsword as the small group of them made their hasty retreat toward the lighthouse that seemingly loomed too far in the distance to offer the kind of shelter from their pursuers that they desperately needed.


He wanted to tell them to leave him and save themselves, but his voice only offered a jumbled noise of sounds that were incomprehensible. Stephen was dangerously close to losing consciousness as his life's blood continued to stream from his grievously wounded arm. To maintain his focus, Stephen simply took solace in his element and felt the solid earth beneath his scrambling and oft times dragging feet. Each painfully slow step brought them closer to their sanctuary and Stephen could not spare any attention to the sounds of the hounds that were rapidly shortening the distance between them.


In his delirium, Stephen took a moment to reflect on the latest attack. Although these hounds came in a pack, as was typical when so many survivors were within close proximity to each other, the hounds displayed a bit more intelligence than he had remembered. Perhaps he was overthinking things in his fogged state, but the attack from the scorched hound that he had barely managed to block with his arm was calculated. That particular hound had baited him, and it had almost worked.


The manner in which the hounds now came at the group in small waves also bespoke a cunning that Stephen had not recalled in prior encounters. Somehow, they were learning and adapting to become more efficient killing machines than their predecessors. Was it breeding or perhaps something else?


The puzzle demanded Stephen's attention and he pondered over as many variables as he could fathom which helped keep the shock of the loss of blood from blacking him out. Soon, though, simple physics would win out and when his blood pressure dropped too low for the lack of a sufficient amount in his system, he would have no choice but to succumb to it.


Stephen hoped that they would make it to the lighthouse before that happened.


@TheDragonMoon @Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

Up to this point, Rue had largely ignored the rain. A few sprinkles were unavoidable in the wilderness and, in a crisis situation, there were so many more important things to worry about. But her vision was poor and the ridiculously tall archer didn't look like he much liked his odds of shooting in this water-soaked wind.


She sheathed her sword in a rather beautiful scabbard embossed with the letters 'VH' and helped Xaus get the blonde warrior onto his feet. Of course, the height disparity made really helping much rather difficult, especially with her still wounded arm. But Rue gamely struggled on through the sand, in the face of the storm unleashing itself in their faces, shadow hounds baying as they sprinted after them. Stephen's mutterings only added to the tension, for they sounded urgent if not for being incomprehensible with pain.


This wasn't working.


The tall archer yelled, "Do you have any idea how to get up there? We need a path! Or do you have a better idea? The wolves are going to get us any second from the noises I've been hearing."


Rue shook her head once and said, "The path is around that outcropping of rock there. It's not concealed so much as, like Haearn Awyr Newydd, it's tucked away. Hopefully the others know magic that can slow those shadow hounds down. In the meantime..." She looked at Stephen's condition, at how much blood he'd lost and the increasing unsteadiness of his steps and shook her head again in dismay. "In the meantime, we need to speed up. So it's time for a little magic of my own. Hold this warrior up and keep an eye out," she asks Xaus, "and I'll see what I can do to get him mobile."


With those words spoken, the grey-eyed woman turned all her attention on Stephen and his arm. Letting go of him freed up both of her hands, allowing Rue to to form a triangle with thumbs joined at the base and all fingers forming the sides. Luminescent white energy, more light than heat, bloomed around her hands like a flower opening up to the sun. She took a deep breath and blew through the gap even as she thrust her hands forward, palms out, sending all of that energy straight into the blonde swordsman's arm. This kind of healing was fast, much faster than she usually liked to do, and potent enough to get him swinging in seconds.


Rue staggered a step and fell against one of the rocky outcroppings bordering the base of the cliffs the lighthouse perched on. Her own arm still dripped blood, albeit slower and more shallowly than Stephen had suffered. No time or energy for it right now. Fighting through a brief wave of fatigue, Rue drew her sword once more and said "Last chance now; we run for the lighthouse or we make our last stand, here, with our backs to the cliffs."


@TheDragonMoon @Kharmin

 

[grey987]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3b00c9a5_ResizedVane.jpg.203e6403c88e5e8762b5d6f082f66e0d.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="65759" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3b00c9a5_ResizedVane.jpg.203e6403c88e5e8762b5d6f082f66e0d.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Mere moments after he'd finished asking his question in regard to the remaining beast that dashed towards the small group of warriors without relent, Vane caught sight of an arrow whizzing past his ear in a blur (which also served to incite a small sound of surprise from the fair-skinned woman present with them) which then pierced through the head of the almost grotesque consolidation of dark matter and stopped the hound in its tracks before it dissolved into that same translucent cloud of smoke that he'd already seen once before. Turning for a moment to get a look at the source of the projectile used to take the mutt out, he literally had to look up to see that it had been fired by an abnormally tall man who sported lightning-shaped tattoos along the length of both of his arms. He looked like a rather imposing man, and the fire mage was quite thankful that he was there to help them out.


Giving the bow-wielder a quick nod to wordlessly compliment him on the shot he'd taken, Vane then strode over to the two hounds that had still been left unattended, who stumbled around against the rough sand even as they stood on all four of their legs. Grabbing the hilts of his weapons, he forcefully pulled them upward and split the animals' husks open with their blades, coughing a little when the stench of the gas found its way into his nostrils again and waving it away with a silent curse under his breath. How revolting, he thought to himself, turning back towards the group when he heard the grey-eyed woman abruptly take authority of the situation, prompting him to let his eyes flicker over to the other end of the beach where he saw his comrade from earlier lying against the ground, seemingly exhausted from a recent altercation.


Damn it. You told me it was under control, Vane thought bitterly, though he allowed the girl and the tall man to go and assist the fallen earth mage before turning his attention to the lighthouse the woman had just mentioned, which seemed to have been set ablaze by a dazzling blue flame. A signal of some sort, no doubt, and the location was admittedly the group's best current chance of surviving the endless onslaught of these cursed dogs sent out to scour whatever remained from the wreckage wrought upon the entirety of Valia a little over a month ago, so there was no other choice but to follow the girl's orders. Although, he couldn't really ignore that little tinge in his chest that he got from the thought of that. It just... Didn't sit right with him. Being commanded to do something like that so soon.


Ether way, with a gesture of his head and a quickly spoken "Come on" to the remaining two people that were still there with him, Vane took off in a run toward the cliffside, quickly spotting a path up into the foliage above among the protruding stones and beginning to make his way up despite lingering concerns for the well-being of the other three travellers. However, for now he kept on moving and willed himself not to turn back. They had to get to the lighthouse now while the attack had come to an apparent pause, seeing as how so far there hadn't been any other wolves that had popped out in pursuit of them.


It would only be a matter of time before the next wave of them arrived.

 

[SkyGinge]

Ah, where was he? Oh yes, on the beach, about to be jumped by a huge amount of Shadow Beasts. Joachim had zoned out for a brief moment, perhaps in the comfort that all his new buddies, battle-ready as they looked, would take care off all the action whilst he relaxed, and enjoyed the scenery... by which he meant Hottie.


Wait, running to the lighthouse? What? That wasn't on the plan at all!


By the time he'd broken out of his bewildered daze, he was one of the last ones left standing there. Balls to that, he grumbled, Joachim Crowe don't do straggling! So off he ran; if his nobler acquaintances couldn't be bothered to protect each other, then he, the criminal, certainly wouldn't step up to the mantle! So it's running and screaming you want, eh, mighty warriors? That was fine by Joachim; he considered running and screaming to be some of his principle talents, besides thieving, charming and lazing. So it wasn't too long before he'd passed the pair who were carrying the injured Blondey, and had taken the lead.


But, with nobody stopping the attack, the beasts were gaining on them. And the sky had opened its mouth and was spewing raining down the beaches now, which even Joachim new to not be a good sign. "Och, there be a storm comin'," Joachim muttered, mockingly. The rain would only serve to dampen everything further, including his spirits and his wits. His mind was whizzing through ways of making light of the situation, but nope; ironically, his wit banks had run completely dry! Ruddy brilliant!


And the dogs were now only a few meters from the nursing duo, Hottie included. There was only two things that would make Joachim intervene. Número Uno: dire survival. And Número Dos: masculine pride.


If Hottie were to die, then who would he have to flirt with? He wasn't going to deny it; the arrival of new, actually living people was a welcome sight. Finally, finally there'd be something to blot out that terrible silence, the silence the threatened to bring reality crashing down on Joachim's happy little facade. Finally, he could close his eyes and pretend that nothing had changed. Joachim had been lonely - and though he was perfectly content with letting a few of his new buddies tragically fall at the wayside for the greater good, he wasn't going to lost all of them, especially her! Otherwise the only candidate left for flirtation would be the older woman... who was probably only a few years younger than his mum.


"Oi, dogsbreath," he yelled, stopping in his tracks, "you like darts?" Unsurprisingly, the shadow dog didn't reply. "I'll take that 'woof-woof-gnash-snarl-grrrrrooof' to mean 'Sorry to disappoint you, Joachim my good chap, but actually I'd rather devour your mates.' Shame, you're just making me a little board." Ping! Making a dart-throwing motion with his arm, Joachim fired a dart-shaped needle of ice, hitting the hellhound straight in its eyeless face. With a satisfying whine, it tripped over its flailing legs, landing in a heap just in front of Hottie and Blimey-How-The-Hell-Did-That-Guy-Get-That-Tall. "Bullseye," he grinned!


The rest of the dogs charged on. "Oh, so you want some more, ey? How. About. No!" Two more ice-darts flew threw the air, impaling the skulls of another two mutts. "180! Well folks, looks like Joachim is your local darts champion! Better get his autograph quick, before-"


Why were they still coming? Why could they just see the humour of his approach and roll up and ask for their tummies to be stroked like good little pups? The dogs were still too near, and Joachim didn't have the skills not the balls to step in upfront.


@Epiphany @TheDragonMoon

 

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3b191459_Stephen_50.jpg.6f18a40be3f3de4b90d25c1528956808.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="65817" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3b191459_Stephen_50.jpg.6f18a40be3f3de4b90d25c1528956808.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> The surge that ran through Stephen was electrifying. The woman's magic coursed through his body and rapidly mended the wounds that had slowly been draining his stamina. The torn and almost mutilated left arm knit together and became more like its normal shape and color and Stephen's blue eyes showed renewed vigor.


"Thanks," he muttered in a somber tone as he looked past her to the next wave of shadow hounds that now, collectively, charged the survivors' retreat. Revived, Stephen lightly shook off the hands that helped hold him and he stood up on his own power. "That's right handy of you," he added to the light mage. "Now, let's see what we can do about these hounds."


When she offered the choice of fight or flight, Stephen sub-consciously twirled his broadsword in his grip. His eyes narrowed as he stared down the tide of evil that threatened to crash upon them. "If we work together," he said in a firm and confident voice as he mentally calculated the numbers that approached with reckless abandon, "we can take 'em."


Suddenly, the attacker's numbers began to diminish as, from behind him, darts of ice flew true to their targets much to the joy of the man Stephen had originally set out to help. The fellow was animated and excited by his own handiwork whereas Stephen preferred less show and more results. Still, he could not deny the man's accuracy as his darts quickly culled the rushing hounds.


"Try not to let more than two gang up on me if you can," he tossed over his shoulder as he strode forward in patient, measured steps all the while his sword twirled in a practiced motion in his hand. Stephen focused his attention on the ground as he glared at the hound that led the charge. Thump-thump-thumpthump, thump-thump-thumpthump, thump-thump-thumpthump.


Stephen timed the beast's motion and as it howled its victory, its conjured life was quickly cut short when Stephen side-stepped the hound and neatly cleaved its head from the rest of its body. He spared no time to revel in the resulting cloud when the hound vanished; rather, Stephen re-focused on the next closest hound and its approaching gait.


His scarred face twisted into a sneer as Stephen re-positioned himself to meet the rest of the brood. His first kill quickly garnered the attention of the entire band and they howled at his insolence. Come and get me, he thought, if you can.


@SkyGinge


@Epiphany


@TheDragonMoon


@grey987

 

[Epiphany]

"Last stand it is," Rue muttered, lifting her sword in grim salute to the pack of shadow beasts charging their position. Instinct said she should stay at the cliff walls, having something solid at her back, but once Stephen started forward, she couldn't let the man risk death alone.


instead, the grey-eyed warrior joined up on the blonde warrior's left, spaced enough for him to have plenty of room to swing but close enough to make the beginnings of a formation. The ice darts brought a somber smile to her lips and she lifted her hand, as if about to do something similar. But nothing happened, though judging by her face it's less a surprise and more of a restraint, a holding back of power she doesn't seem willing to use.


Once the battle is joined, her sword proved swift. Stephen felled the first beast but her blade cut short the life of a second, stabbing rather than cleaving. One boot kicked the dying creature free, just in time. Her right arm started to bleed again with the exertion of battle but her left hand steadied it, gashing another dog that gets too close.


The main bulk of the pack meets them then, breaking against the two warriors like an ocean wave around a rock, flowing out to the sides from the point of impact and circling around. Reflexively, Rue does the same, pivoting on a heel in the sand until she stands back to back with Stephen. The pair of them seem to have drawn virtually all of the animals' attention...for better or worse. Even in the pounding rain beating at everyone on the beach, it's plain from the set of her jaw and wan expression that she's not convinced they're going to survive this.


Then the next attacks and her sword flashes out to meet it...


@SkyGinge @TheDragonMoon @Kharmin

 

[TheDragonMoon]

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No immediate/obvious path out of here. Great. Understanding the man needed to be helped, Xaus held him with a steady, strong arm, and kept an eye out for any beasts incoming. Xaus also couldn't help but simply watch in amazement as the lady worked her light magic on the wounded solider. He had seen a couple of light mages during his time at the academy, but the way their magic glowed beautifully and wrapped everything in a warm light like a mother's gentle embrace was always a wonderful sight to see. Hell, he wasn't even the one being healed and he felt better from just being around it. He turned his head up from the healing and was vigilant once more. From what he could see, there was going to be a lot of wolves in the their near distant future. Hurry, hurry, he thought in his mind. The man's weight felt lighter, and Xaus saw the healing was done. The healer didn't seem to have much energy left, slumping against the cliff side with a bleeding arm he hadn't noticed before. She drew her sword. The howls came closer.


"Last chance now; we run for the lighthouse or we make our last stand, here, with our backs to the cliffs," she said.


Xaus felt angry at her, for dragging them along with rapidly changing plans. Why had they run over here in the first place? Shouldn't they have fought together with the rest of them?They didn't have much of a choice now, the only real option was to fight. At least their backs were against a wall, and couldn't be surrounded easily. She didn't look to be in the best fighting shape, nor did the recently healed man. He still had an abundance of energy, but knowing his own weaknesses, that wouldn't last long. He had no religion to comfort him with the idea of an afterlife or anything of the sorts, so he was fully prepared to go down swinging at the very least. As they bounded closer through the sheets of rain, Xaus positioned his hands to be ready for lightning to surge through them once more.


The other man sounded confident for somebody that nearly lost a limb or his life. He swung his sword, killing the first hound before Xaus could get to it. Enraged, the rest of he pack quickly rushed to redeem their fallen. They grouped together and filled in any gap that was around them, rapidly surrounded everywhere he looked with ragged fur. They leaped at the three of them, most of the time aiming for their throat. He saw one's lips curl, showing off its teeth as it leaped to attack him. Xaus felt the wave of magic flow into his palms, as he summoned dazzling orbs of electricity to blast each attacking wolf in their center, including the one that tried to take his throat out. The lady and the man seemed to have perfect synergy, swinging their swords in unison, making sure that neither one was left unguarded for an instant. Xaus unwillingly let his emotions flow into his magic. His frustration at this entire situation made his orbs erratic, although bigger than usual. The wolves cried in pain as his orbs blasted holes right through where their hearts would be. Their stench of dark magic filled the air. Was that a dart, from the rest of the group? With a break in the wave, he conjured a larger orb that took out around three. Yet, no matter how many he or the others could take down, there was always more; a wolf that would take the fallen's spot. It was endless.


The wind kicked up once more, whipping sand all over. Xaus was already feeling drained of his magical energy, and as his switched to using bolts of electricity he knew that this was the end. Dark fur flew all over as his smite another one down that aimed for his leg. When he had no magic left, there was nothing left for him; he couldn't shot his bow in this weather. The rain seeped into his bones, adding another note of misery. Xaus, tired of being miserable about his own death, decided to be enraged in his last moments. The feeling of fury washed over him, offering a welcome relief from his sorrow. His anger strengthened him and he found more magic within him, almost wanting to cry out with victory as he struck more down. Their whimpering sounded like music to his ears. Might they even be thinning out? Exhausted and trying to see if more was coming through the low visibility, Xaus felt pain hit him as a wolf tore at his leg. Flaying his limbs desperately, he only managed to get the wolf off after it brutally ripping off muscle from his bone.


Waves of pain radiated from his leg, bringing tears to his eyes. He hit his back on the rocks as he collapsed backwards. He desperately tried to grip the slippery wall. With what seemed the remnant of his magic, he summoned a lightning shield around him to ward off anymore predators. One managed to scratch his stomach before he could do so. His anger ebbed as his tears mixed with the rain the fell down his face. He closed his eyes, thinking that if he did die here he would be free from the never ending agony that welcomed everybody on Valia. No more sorrow, pain, loneliness, and ire when you were dead. Maybe the other two could fight the rest off, but he didn't care at this point. With one hand, he weakly grasped at his family's necklace underneath his shirt. Death wasn't something he was going to fear.

​

 

[SkyGinge]

With a curious glow, Hottie had reinvigorated Blondey with the power of the Gods (or something), and then the battle turned to a more predictable affair. The noble warriors dashed into battle like they were supposed to. Joachim's decision to hang back wasn't even conscious; his fighting instinct was to not fight. Besides, if Blondey was so eager to fight that he'd spring up from his own death bed, Joachim certainly wasn't going to be the one to stop him!


And so Joachim watched on as heroic survivor clashed with evil hellhound, as steel slashed against... weird purpley stuff. Bizarrely, the raw desperacy of it all had Joachim harking back to his brief, fleeting year or so at the university. He was quite the popular lad with all except the driest stick-in-the-mud's before he realised he was destined for a life of crime. Some of his mates back then were into this kind of fighting milarky, but for them it was all about style, about grace. He saw now how impractical that'd be in the face of battle. And he chuckled at the irony of it all; they practiced and practiced techniques which probably lead to their own deaths.


Joachim wondered if Blondey had long hair for style, laziness or because he was a pansy.


Joachim's ears pricked. The battle was becoming more desperate. They'd culled the number of dogs down to single figures, but the survivors were exhausted. And if Half-Man-Half-Tower himself had been felled, then surely they were all royally screwed.


A nearby snarl drew Joachim's attention to closer quarters. He only just had time to draw his knife as the wolf lept at him, his blade slashing its throat, splitting his face with the gross purple stuff as the body sailed past millimetres from his face. Blimey, Joachim thought, wide eyed, I thought my wall of buddies would stop any from slipping through. Just goes to prove I'm not a prophet, huh.


And sadly for him, it seemed Sneaky Pup No.1 was not alone; two more shadow dogs, perhaps dettered from mauling the fallen man-tower by the prospect of yet-standing meat, raced down the shingle towards him at a terrifying pace.


"Come on, boys," Joachim muttered to himself, "it's awfully kind of you to come keep me company, but really, I'm more of the solitary kind of guy." C'mon brain, c'mon magic, do something! Lady Luck, weather, instincts, anyone?





But, contrary to popular belief, Lady Luck is not just all give, no take. She sees you slacking, she gives you what you deserve. She says: "Come on, Joachim. I'm not going to carry you!" Joachim made a desperate swing, but this time, Lady Luck was making a point; he knife arm swung lazily past the dog, and it crashed into his arm. Joachim screamed, smacked his head painfully onto the brittle sands. Shock dampened the pain briefly, but suddenly their was an almighty flash of pain all the way along he joint as he realised the mutt was still gripping on, it's horrible jaws wrapped around his mangled arm. He flailed in vain, eyes wider than life. And the other dog was still running; it'd be on him in seconds...


@Epiphany @TheDragonMoon @Kharmin

 

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3c82df95_Stephen_50.jpg.76fedf28db4b943ec42c5a42f2f59f26.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="66804" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3c82df95_Stephen_50.jpg.76fedf28db4b943ec42c5a42f2f59f26.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> The healing magic only re-invigorated Stephen to a point, but he steeled himself in the face of the overwhelming tide and deigned to not show any weakness. After the first hound fell to his blade, the torrent crashed over and around him. The healer-woman stepped in and, back to back, they covered each others flanks and made fast work of the shadow hounds.


Magic seemed to be flying all over the place as the few survivors nearby lent their assistance. Stephen knew that the battle had to end quickly lest what little remained of his stamina ran out. He focused on the ground and used his talent with earth magic to sense the location and movement of every combatant in the immediate area; in this way, none of the hounds' attacks came at a surprise and Stephen more easily cut down the ones that were careless enough to come within range of his broad sword.


This is more to my taste, he thought. His tenuous ability with earth magic was not much more than what he had thus far displayed. Virtually any effort with his talent was a strain and took too much focus and concentration for him; rather, he preferred a more straight-on fight with physical instead of magical abilities. A few years back, he had learned to sense his opponents on the ground which substantially increased his fighting acumen. It was a use of his talent that resulted in no waste which is how he preferred things. Simple, efficient and an intelligent use of resources.


Several hounds did manage to pass around the perimeter of the whirling duo and get to those behind them. "Damn," Stephen swore as his quick glance saw the hounds' successes against those less protected. "We gotta end this fast, or there won't be enough magic in you to heal 'em all," he tossed over his shoulder to the woman. "Go and help them. I can manage these last few."

 

[Epiphany]

Unsurprisingly, the fight wasn't going all that well. How could it? They weren't a trained military unit, except for arguably the tall blonde soldier. Even her own training was...where was it from? Where had she learned to use a sword? And the way she'd stepped into formation, the way she'd reflexively circled to ward his back when the hounds circled them. All of these things drew upon experiences Rue couldn't quite remember happening. Whatever their source, it wasn't enough.


Claws gashed her legs twice, only lightly scoring the flesh but flaying the fabric open just above the knees. Her leather coat blocked a bite on her hip enough for her to spear the shadow hound through the base of its skull with her sword before it got a better grip. Rue lacked Stephen's reach or range between his greater height and longer blade. But she was quick, surprisingly strong herself and able to hold her ground against their attackers. Especially with the tall archer's lightning.


But even as the monsters dwindled in numbers, the archer fell at last, barely shrouded in a protective shield of lightning. The roguish man her own height with his knives and ice was likewise pressed, being charged at by a shadow dog.


"We gotta end this fast, or there won't be enough magic in you to heal 'em all," said the blonde soldier behind her. "Go and help them. I can manage these last few."


"I'm on it," Rue yelled back.


The rain had intensified, as had the wind, making casual conversation almost impossible. One of the western coast of Valia's legendary storms building up pitch, pace and power by the looks of things. And feel of things. It was a bit of a struggle just to push herself into a sprint.


A sprint to which, though? Two of them were in danger and she couldn't be in both places at once. The trained healer in Rue triaged the situation and immediately chose Joachim. With a steadily increasing speed, she ran down a charging Shadow Hound and cut its legs out from beneath it as she passed. The one mangling the poor man's arm worried the limb in a fashion that made Rue swear, for it'd take quite a bit of her strength to repair that kind of damage. She couldn't just impale the beast. The sword might hit the man beneath. A swinging gash to the flanks might tear that arm further.


Instead, Rue leaped on the shadow hound's back, legs wrapping around its haunches as if she was riding it, while her arms gripped its neck. The noble's steel longsword she'd salvaged came up and slit the beast's throat, spilling ink-and-purple fluid across the unfortunate Joachim. She forced the blade in deeper and deeper into its neck until at last the edge caught and severed the tendons of the jaw, releasing its grip.


The grey-eyed woman rose from its corpse and stared, half-blinded by the rain, towards Xaus. One shadow hound still pressed him, snapping to get through that lightning shield, even as two others broke off to go after Stephen from behind, seeking prey they could actually reach. That shield flickered weakly and dimmed even as she laid eyes on it. No time. And too far to run. But not too far to kill.


No. Rue remembered what it'd felt like to grip that unearthly power before. How it'd made her feel. But a man's life hung in the balance. What kind of woman would she be to ignore the Wise One mandate by failing to save a life she could help? What kind of woman might she be if she did, though? In the end, triage again provided the solution. A certain saving of a life outweighed a possible risk to another. There was only one thing left she could do.


Still crouched over the fallen Joachim, Rue rose with her steel sword gripped in her left hand. She thrust out with her right, fingers spread. And then her fingers curled as if slowly crushing something, even as her face twisted into a grimace of effort and dark pleasure. The shadow hound breaking through Xaus' lightning shield suddenly gave out a soul-chilling howl of utter desolation and agony, twisted backwards and collapsed on the beach, writhing in the sand. It had one last whimper before its body shuddered fiercely only to fall still, slowly dissolving into the storm-battered beach.


Rue's breath came fast and hot, heaving as if she's just run a race. Or just finished in a different way. Her lips spread, her cheeks flushed, her grey eyes wide, she's the very image of fulfillment.


Then she sank to her knees and folded onto the sand next to Joachim.

 

[Kyte]

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A cold and rain permeated wind bit harshly at Holland’s face as he watched the situation become increasingly grim. The survivors on the beachfront had indeed seen his signal, but the sheer amount of shadow hounds rendered it impossible for them to make the distance. It also seemed that at least one member of their party was wounded. After a valiant enough effort, they had been cornered by the vile beasts and had taken a rudimentary formation in defense…they planned to make a final stand there.


Another loud crash rang behind Holland and the lighthouse door began to bow outward. Truth be told, they were in a lot more trouble down there than he was. He had the higher ground and the doorway was only wide enough to accommodate one hound at a time. In contrast, the unfortunate souls at the beachfront were effectively surrounded as well as outnumbered by the beasts. The thought of scaling down the lighthouse walls and sprinting to their aid wasn’t lost on him, but if he were to fall, he would most certainly break his leg and become victim to the fangs of those wicked creatures. Further, the rain made the limestone masonry of the lighthouse spire slippery…for now he could only trust in their abilities.


A sudden and deafening crash of lightning impacted the top of the lighthouse spire as the old door finally gave way. Holland, ears ringing from the lightning’s roar, steeled himself as the first hound tore through the splintered wood.


His eyes, beginning to glow with frustration and anger, tracked the beast as it darted towards him. Holland took a step towards the hound and thrusted the blade into its neck. After twisting 180 degrees, he neatly pulled the blade out and guarded against the next set of rabid shadows charging him.


His lance screamed through the air in a blur as he spun it three rotations with a powerful diagonal strike followed in suit. The strike cut deeply across one hounds face and, displaying exceptional footwork, Holland spun around the charging shadowhound and jabbed the butt end of his lance into the following hound. An audible snap emanated from its shoulder as the bones crumpled under the force. Seemingly unfazed by the blow , the hound’s jaws locked around the lance and it began savagely trying to tear it out of hollands grasp. Knowing better than to waist precious time fighting with the beast, Holland simply let go of the lance.


“Sorry boy, but I don’t have time for a game of tug-o-war!”


He then powerfully kicked upward into the opposite end of the lance, effectively shattering the teeth of the hound and snapping its jaw out of socket. Kicking the lance back up into his hands, Holland spun it another half rotation and hammered it into the beasts flank. Pulling out, the lance again screamed through the air as Holland crouched low. In a long sweeping motion, the lance cut through the first hound’s legs, who had recovered from the facial wound and was charging from behind. Almost comically, it face-planted and slid across the wet limestone, falling over the edge to its death. Holland quickly rose to his feet and angled the lance towards a third hound that was already in a mid-air leap towards him.


it made a shriek as it was impaled on the lance. A fourth hound barreled into the back of the impaled hound however and succeeded in knocking Holland off balance, forcing him to back up several feet.


Holland Now found himself on the edge of the limestone flooring with two more hounds bounding towards him. Again with excellent footwork, he planted. His left foot and spun his right leg upward, landing a roundhouse kick into one of the hounds and sailing it over the edge. Holland's luck finally ran out with the next hound as it crashed into his legs. He now found himself tumbling backward and freefalling over the edge!

​

 

[Quill]

While several of the odd strangers converging on the beach charged towards the oncoming second charge of shadowy hounds, Jvala manipulated the wind to conceal her scent and crept quietly behind the pack. She reached the ideal vantage point just as the dark-haired woman sunk into the sand. Jvala couldn't make out the details, but it sure looked like those two sitting ducks could use some help. In cold and utter silence, Jvala descended on a rush of wind to alight just behind several of the attacking wolfish creatures. Aided by well-aimed tendrils of raw magic, her staff moved at an impossible speed, crippling one of the blasted dogs and knocking out another. With a crisp kick from her boot, she crushed a windpipe while slashing the other's throat. Its claws scoured her arm as it fell, but she was so excited she could barely feel the blood.


But in the tumult, she had not been controlling the way her scent leaked out into the air, and she cried out in rage as the teeth of a hound sunk into the back of her leg. They were beginning to surround her! A forceful bash from her quarterstaff loosened its grip – along with quite a few teeth – but in her peripheral vision she could already see two more blurry shapes advancing. Jvala was doing her best, but she was simply outnumbered.


@SkyGinge @Epiphany @grey987 @Kharmin

 

[TheDragonMoon]

Spoiler

[media]

[/media]

There must not be hardly any wolves remaining or he would already be dead by now. Perhaps, that was a bad thing, seeing that now he would die a slow death bleeding out. Filling the history and love of his family pulse through his necklace, he felt a surge of hope and determination that overcome any other of his emotions. It wasn't over yet. Far from it. It was over when you breathed your last breath. Until then, there would always be a chance of surviving. Giving into your despair and simply surrendering wouldn't do. Dimly, he noted the occasional attempts to break his shield that he had barely noticed before. Xaus clenched his teeth together and opened his eyes. He avoided looking at his leg or the scratches that were on his stomach. The sight of the lightning buzzing around him gave him some comfort, although not much seeing how weak it was and how wolves were still around. If he used anymore energy to replenish it, he would definitely pass out immediately afterwards. And that wouldn't do any good. He did his best to flatten out his body against the rocks behind him. From his use of magic and blood loss, Xaus became very light headed, black filling the comers of his vision. It wasn't over yet, but he couldn't do much but try to remain conscious for now or feebly kick off a wolf or two. Maybe his new found companions wouldn't leave him here to die. There was always hope, right?


In the distance, he heard a man's voice bark out orders to somebody. Sounds of squealing and fighting came from the same direction. The man had gotten the attention of the majority of the remaining wolves, but there was still a couple tormenting him. One got impatient and stupidly got its head blasted off by his shield. The magic got even dimmer around him. He struggled to remain upright. The pain and fatigue were really starting to get to him. As another wolf snarled at him, with an aura of pure despair radiating from his dark magic. No more pain was all Xaus wanted. He turned his head up to the sky, trying to distract himself. There must have been more with the wolf, but thankfully they were warded off by somebody else once more. Surprise, surprise, people were actually helping him even during these desperate times where Xaus felt like you shouldn't trust anybody.


He let his head fall back down and in the corner of his eye, he saw the lady run over to help somebody else, probably that idiot guy that kept running around in circles instead of fighting or doing anything useful. Figures. She probably hadn't even figured out he was "odd" yet, but she still preferred that retard. The wolf jumped at him, making the shield weaker than ever before. He panted, foolishly trying to make it stronger to no avail, and almost passing out from doing so. Two more attacks. That's all he had left. The weight of the wolf hit the shield again; Xaus trembled from the impact. One. Xaus grimly witnessed the wolf tensing up its muscles once more. He had used his remaining once of energy trying to stand up and remain conscious. He took one hand off his necklace, and feebly raised it in front of him and stared his fate in its eyes. The wolf lunged, breaking through the shield and then stopping, in mid air, held by magic. It howled and twisted backwards onto the sand with a scream that would haunt Xaus in his dreams. It writhed in pure agony before dying. Xaus collapsed on the gritty, bloody, sand in relief, his shield and magic completely washed away. They had actually survived that fight. There better not be anymore, he thought dreamily as he drifted in and out to the sounds of lightning crashing around him.

​

 

[grey987]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3d36f1fb_ResizedVane.jpg.d83d518242f6a7c1aecbab8fa07cf8f5.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="67268" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3d36f1fb_ResizedVane.jpg.d83d518242f6a7c1aecbab8fa07cf8f5.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> They just kept coming, one after another without pause or restraint. For every hound taken down, another would appear in its vacant place, and this had served to overwhelm the group of travellers that had banded together in this deserted village between a sea and a cliff. The way things were now, it was almost like a death sentence to be present in that area, a way of spelling out doom to those who had managed so far to outlast the Druids that roamed the lands. The warriors had all exhausted themselves past the limits of their abilities and some had sustained a number of wounds that weighed on them and minimized their ability to keep fighting, and yet they were still being assaulted by a force that appeared to have no end. Things were looking bleak. It seemed as though it were the end for them all, just when they had been able to find hope in numbers.


But that outcome ended up being prolonged with further assistance that had been forgotten amidst the foliage surrounding the cliff. Momentarily, the forest seemed to glow with a bright orange light before a massive sphere of fire soared into the air, and when it came down, it fractured and split into multiple projectiles that rained down on the beach a fair distance away from the survivors. Some embedded themselves in the sand before igniting into flames that shimmered amidst the dark atmosphere brought about by the rainstorm created by the clouds, and some of them found their way into the skin and bone of the animals created from the ungodly substance, causing them to let out disturbing howls of agony as they collapsed to the ground and thrashed about while they burned from the inside out. The dogs' numbers dwindled and became depleted by the sudden hail of fire from above, and for now, the flames that lit up the beach would prevent any more of them from moving towards the group.


"The one time... whew... that I decide to follow orders like a... ugh, good little boy, everyone else decides to go and... fight. Lovely."


An out-of-breath Vane stumbled out of the wilderness just by the cliff's edge and arrived to see many of his comrades down, some of them too weak to get back on their feet and defend themselves. As it turned out, he had been the only one to take off towards the lighthouse when told to before finding that no one had actually followed him, and knowing that he couldn't leave them behind, he had gone back to try and assist them in their struggle against their profoundly persistent enemies. While he'd successfully managed to stop any further harm from coming to the other wanderers, it had come at the cost of most of his energy, and now he himself was barely managing to stay standing and see straight while doing so.


Making his way down the path amidst the outcropping of the cliff that he had spotted earlier while trying to find a way to make his way up in the first place, he let his eyes observe his surroundings for a moment before picking out the tall black-haired man as being the closest one to him, noting the large chunk of flesh that was missing from his leg. While he wasn't capable of fully healing that injury even if he had his full stamina to back him up (which he didn't), the most he could do was disinfect it and give him somewhat of a head-start on the path to having it recover. So he knelt by the other man's side and let his hands hover over the bloodied wound, flexing a few fingers to activate the flow of light magic through his hands and incite a luminescent circle of light to appear between his palms. There was a significant strain present in Vane's facial expression through the only somewhat subtle occasional twitch of the right side of his face as he went to work, trying his best to ease his ally's pain and mend his leg to some degree.


"Can you walk...?" the fire magician inquired, his voice coming out as somewhat of a croak after he retracted his hands with a heavy and trembling exhale of breath. "We'll have to move to the lighthouse fast; those flames won't be burning forever, and we need to make sure that everyone else can make the journey as well."

 

[SkyGinge]

All of a sudden, the dashing dog's limbs were lopped off, and it skidded to a halt on its belly like a toothy boot running aground. How queer, fancy that. Maybe he was dreaming after all. He couldn't tell; it was too hard to think through the stinging pain of the other mutt's jaws wrapped around his favourite arm. You've made your point, Lady Luck. 'ol Joachim is a stubborn, reckless dastard. Lesson learned, penance severed. Can I have my arm back now please?





Wait, it was Hottie! Hottie had came to save him! Woo! She could just fire some magical light stuff at the dog and it'd dissolve into a thousand pieces, or something. Then she could heal his arm, wrap her own arm around him and say "Oh Joachim, you're so brave, and handsome, and heroic," and then they would snog, and then everybody else would disappear and it'd all be great!


After such an extravagant hope, realty was bound to be disappointed. Instead of doing what any sane person would do, the freaking lady jumped on the dog, and by extension, his mangled arm! Joachim could only let out a pained grunt as he clenched his teeth around the proverbial bit.


"Are you mad, woman?" he cursed through his teeth, "The ruddy arm's busted, deaded- ARGH! Unless riding my ruddy arm and that ruddy dog like it's some kind of ruddy horse is - gahh - some kind of ancient healing practice, what the hell do you think you're-" She slit the beast's throat, splattering his face with the horrible, purple, disgusting, hard-to-clean... it was all too much for the squeamish Joachim, who jerked his head away from her with the last vestiges of his instinctual dignity to paint the cobbles with the yellow mass of his stomach's former contents. Bye bye, rabbit! Bye bye, mushrooms! Joachim heaved, chucked and spewed across the stones.


The sound of the girl's rapid breathing brought him back to reality. Joachim, royally knackered himself, wiped the sickly mixture of dried bile and purple blood from his face, still managed to cock a brow as he looked up at her. He pushed out with his spare arm just in time to stop her from collapsing into his sick. Of course, this was absolutely damningly painful on his other arm, and immediately, Joachim collapsed, cursing. And, waddeyaknow, his saving arm, that'd probably just committed his First Good Act in several years, had landed diddly-splat in his own sick! Ruddy typical!


With one arm mangled to the point of being unable to use (Joachim was 93.76% sure it was badly broken), and the other now lined with his lunch, Joachim could not muster up any energy to even rise from his fallen position. The only consolation for him was how funny a sight the pair of them must have made, a young couple lying in a pile of sick and blood, tired beyond belief.

 

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3dabd31a_Stephen_50.jpg.858da2a9f3653490e1a3fbb50726ef5e.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="67554" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c3dabd31a_Stephen_50.jpg.858da2a9f3653490e1a3fbb50726ef5e.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Stephen refocused on his element and was given a renewed picture of the battle. Since everything was pretty much on the ground, he was able to determine the location and movement of the hounds contrasted against the survivors. It wasn't much of a talent, but with his limited studies being disrupted by the assault on the college by the Shadow King's forces, he used what little training that he had.


He was grateful for having taken the time and effort to learn swordplay. With his ability to sense the battlefield around him, Stephen was often the last man standing during the sparring drills. Archers and other attacks that didn't rely on contact with the ground were another matter entirely, which is why he usually fell quickly to mages of other elements.


Still, with the knowledge of all of the combatants around him, battles seemed to grind almost to a halt with their speed. In his mind, the actions and actors of the melee moved in slow motion whereas his bastard sword swung in apparent real-time.


Once the healer woman departed, Stephen was quickly surrounded by three hounds. In an almost desperate attempt, Stephen lashed out at one while giving up his flank. The wound would be severe, of that he was sure, but his tactic would also cut the number of adversaries down to two.


True to his expectation, as his broad sword cleaved through another one of the Shadow King's minions, a hound clawed him ferociously on his opposite leg. Stephen grimaced at the strike, but didn't cry out – he had had worse before, he was sure; however, without the healer's magic he was certain that he would never have had the energy to continue.


But the healer's magic was no substitution for actual rest and natural mending that a warrior's body needed and Stephen felt his stamina waning. This fight would need to end, and quickly.


He backhanded the hound that had slashed his leg, spun and impaled the third hound and then reset his position as the backhanded one regained its feet. As before, this one hound appeared to be a bit more intelligent than its brothers as it feinted to draw Stephen into a less protected position.


The hound hadn't counted on fighting a well-practiced swordsman. Stephen was not fooled by the feint and for a moment the two circled each other as they gauged each other. Unknown to the hound, Stephen was sensing the beast's paws on the ground and was able to determine how much weight it was placing on each. When the hound sprung at him, Stephen easily expected the attack as he had felt the shift in the creature's balance. One-on-one, Stephen had no real challenge with the hound as he bladed his body to avoid the pounce. As the beast cleared him, shocked at Stephen's deft move, the swordsman brought his weapon around and speared the hound whose surprised eyes vanished with the rest of it in a purple cloud.


Stephen spun around and surveyed the rest of the battle to see where he might best lend his talent. The lighthouse appeared to be the new battlefront, so with bold, determined steps he stormed toward the others.

 

[TheDragonMoon]

Spoiler

As Xaus slowly started to drift off to an unconscious state, he felt a warm glow at his injured leg that got his attention, the healing making it able for him to be in the world. He had a feeling that it wasn't as potent as the other mage's light magic, but he wasn't going to complain. It was nice to be alive and able to still feel magic. The rain started to soften, even if only by a notch. Was the worst over or was it still to come? Since it was the apocalypse he could only assume that things would always be getting worse from now on. He let out a groan as the mage finished up and withdrew their hand. Magic could only do so much for him at this point, as the exhaustion wouldn't go away with a flick of the hand or a moment's rest, seeing that he really needed a magic potion. Would have to scavenge for one later.


Xaus opened his eyes and saw a muscular man with daggers on his sides. A man that was ready to fight a bloody fight. Not traditionally what you expected from somebody that used light magic.


"Can you walk...?" the man asked in a tired sounding voice. "We'll have to move to the lighthouse fast; those flames won't be burning forever, and we need to make sure that everyone else can make the journey as well."


Xaus stood up, warily testing his weight on his still injured leg. "Yeah, I think I'll be able to make it. Thanks for the healing."


"Let's just get this done, alright? I think the sun is going to set soon," he added after a brief pause.


His legs trembled of the thought of a long hike up to the lighthouse, but it was going to be the best place to be at this time. There could be a chance of it having good supplies, perhaps even a couple potions. That would just be swell. Xaus clenched his teeth together and started on his way, searching the towering cliffs for the way to the lighthouse. Soon, Xaus saw the fabled path that was going to take them up. Steep, weathered, and with lots of switchbacks. Xaus looked at the treacherous path, then the lighthouse, and back at the path. There was still meat messing out of his leg, his other wounds were dripping blood here and there, and he was going to having to hike this. Fun times. With his leg throbbing, he started on the path, swearing that he never wanted to fight again because of how much it hurt.


Only a little ways on the path, he saw the man he had fought with earlier still down at the beach, probably looking for the others. Xaus, gave a small and guarded wave in his direction, in the hopes that he would see it and join up. And maybe eventually bring the whole party together. Xaus felt like he was going to collapse right then and there. The hike seemed like a monumental task to complete. He sat down on a rock, desperately trying to gain some energy to keep going. Feelings of aggravation, bitterness, and woe made it hard for him to think clearly. It was tempting for him to hit something with his fist right then, but he restrained from doing so. Why can't anything in this life be easy?

 

[Epiphany]

Rue's return to consciousness was as sudden as her departure. All of a sudden, she was awake, panting hard as flashes of what she'd just done curled through her stomach and burrowed deep in her bones. She'd killed. She'd liked it. And she wanted to kill more.


Rue coughed against the sand and pushed herself up. Her right arm had stopped bleeding again, thankfully. The sword lay where she'd dropped it so she gripped its leather-clad hilt in her left hand and pushed herself up onto her feet. The rain fell in punishing sheets but flickers of lightning and Vane's lingering flames provided enough light to make out details, especially now that the Shadow Hounds were slain. In an instant, Rue surveyed the battlefield.


Holland, a strong looking warrior, lay at the base of the path up to the lighthouse, where his fall had killed the mastiff he'd kicked off. The blonde Stephen was the nearest warrior, given his own approach on the lighthouse. He bled from the leg, though. The black woman, Jvala with the staff, also bleeding from the leg and at least light scratches on the arm but she was even closer. So was Joachim but his arm was by far the worst injury. The tall archer Xaus' had been a contender but it looked like the fire mage Vane had stabilized him enough and already the two men were making their way up to the lighthouse.


Time to do the same.


Light bloomed between her palms. Where Vane's magic was a luminescent circle, hers unfolded from her hands like incandescent white lily petals, not quite heat but fierce where those healing energies surged and uncoiled. Rue spread her hands then and Life Magic washed over Joachim's broken, shredded arm like the ocean inexorably washing out a dock. Once it receded, the bleeding had stopped entirely and the flesh was sealed, though horribly purple with bone-deep bruising.


"You're a brave man," she said with a smile to Joachim. "To endure that. Now I need your bravery again. I need you up. Follow those two," she pointed at Vane and Xaus as the two headed up the lighthouse path, "and keep your arm stable. I can't spare the energy today to fully heal it so it's delicate. I'll be right behind you once I've seen to the others."


The healer then sheathed her noble's steel longsword and advanced on Jvala, the black woman with her staff. "I saw you try to save us," Rue said, still smiling a bit. "Thank you. Now hold still." Once more, petals of pure white bloomed between her hands, this time pouring out like a water fountain over Jvala's bitten leg. "I'll mend you more later but for now, get to the lighthouse. And keep that staff ready. With this much rain, our visibility is terrible and we may have no warning if more come."


Last, Rue approached the pair of the downed Holland with his crushed Shadow Hound beneath him, and Stephen with the second Shadow Hound just slain by his sword. "Well met, my friends. We need to get to that lighthouse." This time, Rue closed her grey eyes as light welled out from her fingertips. When Stephen shook his head and waved off her offer to healing, she nodded in barely suppressed relief at the conservation of energy. "If you have the energy, keep that sword at ready and keep us safe so we all get to that lighthouse in one piece."


The black-haired healer finally bent over Holland, gently probing what she could see. In the rain, it was hard to tell but she couldn't take chances from internal injuries after a fall like that. Light flickered around her hands, like a candle batted about in the breeze. Rue bowed her head, closed her eyes and concentrated. The light flickered again, a third time, and suddenly ignited like a spark setting a campfire alight. Waves of healing flowed through the downed warrior. If he'd broken anything, there wasn't much she could do but seal bleeding and stabilize him for the moment.


Then black waves of dizziness swamped Rue. She went down to one knee, coughed on rain twice and forced herself back onto her feet. She slipped her left arm, her good arm, under Holland's right to help support him. With a last glance at Stephen, Rue nodded and pushed on towards the lighthouse.


They were all alive. So far. The lighthouse awaited.


@TheDragonMoon @SkyGinge @Kharmin @Kyte @Quill @grey987

 

[Kyte]

Holland could do little as the shadowhound crashed into his upper legs. The weight and momentum of the beast instantly caused Holland’s legs to buckle and he found himself airborne. Time slowed for Holland as he attempted to reach for the ledge of the lighthouse, but his hand slipped under his own weight when it contacted the wet limestone. Instead, Holland’s forehead collided with the ledge with a meaty crack. Hundreds of tiny sparks of light exploded into his vision and all sound suddenly became muffled by a ringing drone in his ears. A short wave of pain overtook him, followed by a cold numbness. Holland’s world slowly grey-shifted and turned to black as he tumbled limply toward the muddied grass below.


___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


“Silence...stillness…darkness… these are the only remaining truths of this forsaken land.”





A suffocating blanket of darkness shrouded the undercroft of castle Aliak in an inescapable aura of dread and despair. The vast labyrinth was saturated in a pungent smell of mildew and rotting corpses. Iron torch holders lining the walls were warped and rusted through the trials of time. A freezing hollow draft drifted its way through the pitch blackness. Filtering its way through the undercroft, the breeze bit obtrusively against the walls, scraping off flakes of rust and dried blood as it continued its unholy pilgrimage to the gates of a metaphoric hell.





“Yet doth this old land of Valia persist, a specter unwilling to relinquish its former glory.”





Within the darkness lay a figure, badly beaten, bloodied, and silent. The area around this figure seemed to shimmer in an almost dreamlike illusion, as though the darkness its self was being repelled away from this person…





“You yourself have said these words, though deep within your soul you know that they are empty as the blackest of voids. Ask yourself, Son of Valia, who is the true specter? Is it truly this dead kingdom, or is it those who wish to breathe it new life?





The shimmering slowly began to wane and darkness encroached, threatening to engulf the unconscious individual.





“You know your path is destined to fail, yet you proceed with unwavering commitment…for, as you say, there is a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path."





The darkness suddenly began to dissipate into light as the man groaned and started to move his extremities weakly.





"Thy Life is a riddle, to bear rapture and sorrow. To listen, to suffer, to entrust unto tomorrow In a fleeting moment from the Land doth life flow. In a fleeting moment anew it doth grow. And In the same fleeting moment thou must live, die, And know…..Wake up, Holland Campbell…and walk your shadowed path.”


__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Holland's eyes slowly opened and the roaring patter of ambient rainfall filled his ears. He was soaked to the bone, cold, and his head was throbbing with pain. Everything looked fuzzy, out of focus…and red tinted.


It took a moment for him to regain his bearing, but he eventually found himself lying flat on his back, staring up at the gray canopy above. Another flash of lightning arced across the sky above him and thunder vibrated his bones.


He wiggled his fingers and toes, then when satisfied that he did not have any serious neck or spinal fractures, he placed his open right palm on his face, wiping away some of the blood that was stinging his blue eyes. His head throbbed violently when he did so.


"Shit…most definitely a concussion."


Holland's hand returned to the ground in a splash and he sighed heavily, then he blinked several times as he comprehended what just happened.


"A dream?…a strange one no doubt, though I wonder whose voice was that?


Suddenly ut of his peripheral vision, movement caught his eye…no doubt more Shadow Hounds. Cursing his luck, Holland briefly swept his hands around the dirt looking for His lance, but it was nowhere to be found. Thinking quick, he crossed his arm to his waist and unsheathed his last line of defense, a weathered but effective hunting dagger. He, with effort, sat up and pointed the dagger at the encroaching beast... only it wasn't a hound…As his mind adjusted to the blurryness of his vision, Holland was surprised to see that it was a woman, a beautiful one at that…one of the survivors! Behind her several more survivors materialized out of the brush. Many of them seemed to be wounded. Laughing nervously, Holland dropped the dagger and sighed again in relief.


"Ok…Now I'm either dead, or luck finally turned to my side for once…damn good to see you all made it out alive!"


The woman greeted him with a smile, then proceeded to utilize light magic to help tend to his wounds. As she placed her hands onto his stomach, waves of relief began to pulsate through his body. His head still throbbed heavily, but the blurriness of his vision was mitigated. Holland was about to thank her for her kindness, but before he could udder a "thank you" the girl collapsed onto one knee and began coughing. Holland caught her and held her upright.


"Whoa…easy does it lass! Thanks for the boost, but don't tax yourself too much for my sake."


Holland tried to help her up, but waves of pain shot through his skull and he collapsed back down to a sitting position.


"Well..never mind, aren't I the hypocrite yeah?" Holland laughed.


Holland and Rue finally were able to stand upright after leaning on one another for support and slowly made their way to to the lighthouse cabin.

 

[Epiphany]

The exhausted healer manages a small smile for Holland. "I'm not sure that making it out alive is actually good luck on our part. But it's good to see other survivors."


After healing what she could, Rue flashes another grateful smile to Holland for his consideration in catching her and helping her balance. "I'm about tapped out," she admits. "But that was a nasty fall you took. Hopefully we can find shelter from this rain in that lighthouse up there. Trying to cure sickness as well as wounds could end up taking the better part of a week!"


At Holland's admission of injury, she chuckles and shrugs, lifting her own bitten right arm up. "We've all seen better days. Hopefully we can all regroup up top, build a line of defense and get some rest. Come on, we can make it there together!"


And yes, though the grey-eyed healer tries to be only a support for the battered warrior, she's lost enough blood and energy to occasionally need the help herself as the group makes their way up the steep path to the lighthouse.

 

[SkyGinge]

Joachim had begun to chuckle. Mighty strange as it might have been, the rogue figured he'd lost what little dignity he had by this point, so he might as well just add to the situation. And why was he laughing, exactly? What excuse might he have given if some curious Joe had knock-knocked on the proverbial door? The answer: why not? He'd just about survived that deadly dog attack, had he not? And royally mugged off the Shadow Dweeb, or whatever his name way. Yeah! Were it not for the fact he was currently laid down face first on damn-spiky shingle in a puddle of sick and blood in the rain after a long day's walk anyway, he'd have been hopping in jubilation!


His maddened chortling sesh' was abruptly interrupted as, out the corner of his eye, he noticed something beginning to glow. Jumpy as it was, it didn't take a genius to notice that all the enemy dastards so far had been darkness-orientated; this light wasn't going to be anything harmful unless a shadow beast was having a particularly eventful identity crisis. His favourite arm went numb, and for a second, Joachim wondered if his shimmering new friend had done screwed up and severed the limb. The tingling rush that filled the fleeting emptiness was indicator enough that he hadn't yet became a genius. It was actually a weirdly pleasurable feeling, and the self-proclaimed criminal let out a long, contented sigh as the pain began to fade away a little.


Sadly, the light stopped before the pain had subsided. Joachim let out another breathy moan. Hottie was the one saving him, eh? That made sense, considering she'd already fixed up Blondey. "You're a brave man," she said. That's a load of balls, and don't you know it. Joachim was as brave as a six year old girl. But, irregardless of energy, he certainly wasn't going to turn down a compliment from the hottest person on the battlefield (even though she still wasn't setting the hottie-o-meter alight).


"Cheers for the healing, lady," the words dripped off his tongue slowly, like honey trickling off a shelf. She'd asked him to move? No thanks, lady, he'd answered internally, contrary to popular belief, I'm quite comfortable where I am, ta. "Know any other kinds of magic?" he asked, a cheeky grin spreading onto his face, "Cause a little hint of further talents wouldn't go too far in encouraging a man to..."


She was only ruddy walking off without him, wasn't she! From his slumped position, Joachim watched her approach another person and work at healing them too. I knew that damn 'tragic backgroud' syndrome would be problematic. Freakin' girl thinks its her duty or something to heal everyone. Well, even he realised he wasn't going to be up to much lying in a pool of his own stomach. So eventually, and in no particular hurry, Joachim managed to get to his feet, and trudged off with the others to the lighthouse.


~~~~


The rain has scattered any hopes of a beautiful evening. It'd been late afternoon when Joachim had reached the cliffs, and at that point, the amber sun was just poking out from behind the clouds, as if teasing the mere mortals with the promise of a romantic view. But Rainy McCloud(s), spoilsport(s) that he/they was/were, had yelled a great big 'Nope!' The rain had battered the bay, battered the cliffs, battered the beach, battered the waves, battered him, battered the houses, and battered the outsides of the lighthouse. With one foul swoop, the weather had pulled the curtains on the day, and now the stormy evening was more akin to an Autumn midnight.


All the defensive merits of their shelter were lost on Joachim. As he dragged himself into the cabin, the last of all the survivors, there was only one thing on his mind. Lighthouses were infamous for tales of being haunted, and after everything he'd been through, he was not going to risk the possibility of being spooked. The one good thing the rain had done was wash off a little of the muck that had coated him (Thanks, rain buddy. Think you can go away now?), but it wasn't enough. He was damp, tired, hungry, and his arm stung like hell.


But there was no way he was suddenly going to make himself the leader of there merry little band. Nah. For now, he'd be a good little boy, allow the authoritive sorts to baby him whilst he recovered. But when he was back to normal? Joachim Crowe doesn't do authority. He'd hang about with this capable bunch, as he certainly didn't fancy his chances without them. And things would be on his terms.


"Damn rain," he muttered loudly, approaching one of the downstairs windows. With a sign, he reclined on the windowsill, only to remember his arm and quickly remove it in a flurry of muttered curses and snarls. "If it weren't raining so ruddy hard, I'd be out taking a bath."

New Objective!Having successfully defeated the shadow dogs, the group have found shelter in a lighthouse in the nearby village. Tired, battle-scarred, and hungry, they now finally have some company! Therefore, we will be interacting more peacefully for a little while until our characters go to sleep, at which point the chapter will close. How will the survivors take to each other?

@Epiphany @Kyte @grey987 @TheDragonMoon @Kharmin @Quill @cojemo

 

[grey987]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c40243efc_ResizedVane.jpg.adddc9c6621110cba36f4a10ab85e053.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="69156" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_08/57a8c40243efc_ResizedVane.jpg.adddc9c6621110cba36f4a10ab85e053.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "Can't say that isn't a good idea. It looks as though everybody else took pretty hard hits of their own..." Through his mildly hazy vision, Vane looked across the length of the rocky beach once more to see that the rest of the travellers were working on recovering from the fierce attack from the dog-like beings made from dark matter, very clearly weakened by the effort they had to put up in order to defend themselves. To think that this alone is how powerful the Dark Druids can be... What else could they have in store? The fire mage quickly decided that he didn't want to know that right now, and focused his attention on getting to the lighthouse on the cliff above them. He had become weary from the energy he'd devoted to the expulsion of both his fire and light magic, and he found himself stumbling every now and then as he made his way back up and forced his body to move through its protests.


He followed a ways behind the tall man he had healed moments earlier, noticing how shaky his posture was as he walked before he came to rest on a nearby rock. His wounds were serving to weigh him down significantly, but there was just nothing Vane could do about it right now; if he used any more magic to try and stabilize the other warrior then he'd be sure to pass out from exhaustion, and while he was all for making sure his new 'buddies' were safe, he wasn't quite feeling up to fainting while on the way to a temporary resting point either. The lighthouse would be their safe haven for a little bit, and he wanted to get there first before he allowed himself to relax. After all, they were all on the same side, so there wouldn't be any reason for him to worry about any of the other survivors causing harm to him.


"Come on, you big lug. We gotta keep going," Vane sighed, giving Xaus' shoulder a light pat and a small smirk of sorts to attempt to lighten the somber mood. "We won't be finished until we make it to that lighthouse."


--


Muffled thunder coming from outside the confines of the lighthouse filled Vane's ears as he stayed seated against a wall, his gaze pinned to the ceiling above him while he felt his energy slowly coming back to him. He found that it had been quite a miracle that he and the others present with him at the moment had been able to survive the whole ordeal, given the overwhelming numbers and force that they'd been faced with... But whether it was such or not, he felt thankful that he was able to reach the fishermen's village when he could. Otherwise he probably wouldn't have found any other survivors to join up with for another very long time, if at any time at all.


"... I'm going to go ahead and guess that you're all mages too, right?" Vane inquired, lowering his gaze from the ceiling and allowing his eyes to scan over the rest of the group. "I can't imagine that there are any survivors of the invasion left in Valia who don't use magic. The Druids would have wiped them all out in a fell swoop."


@Epiphany, @Kyte, @TheDragonMoon, @Kharmin, @Quill, @cojemo, @SkyGinge

 

[Quill]

Jvala sat stewing. She'd been trying to make connections between their shadowy assailants and the lore she had studied in school, with no luck. She had been looking forward to spending a few relatively peaceful years by the seaside before intrepidly traveling the world. But the post-apocalypse was much more dangerous than she had imagined. The dark hounds could be a sign of some deep-seated magical taint. What if people were affected by it too? What if the invaders aimed to extinguish all human life on Valia? Her initial optimism had been misinformed. It wasn't safe to travel alone.


When the young man who had helped save her, the one whose face always reminded her of a shrew -- what did he say his name was? Wayne or something? -- addressed the group, Jvala made sure to move closer and listen up. She was eager to know if anyone knew more about the creatures that had attacked them, and, perhaps even more importantly, if they had been tracking down any particular member of the group. Would more monsters follow?


She nodded at his words and replied, "I'm Jvala Qathor, a wind mage. Born and raised in Aliak." She'd never been this far away from the capital city.

 

[TheDragonMoon]

Spoiler

Xaus wanted to stay on the rock forever and nap there for the night, but a simple tap on his shoulder along with some words from his partner reminded him that they really did need to keep going. He hadn't been saved from vicious wolves to lay around here, moaning about life, and eventually get killed here. Yes, he was in hateful and bitter mood, but there was still common sense instilled within him to keep moving. Being out at night alone, during these times... he shuddered inwardly at the idea of it. The lighthouse shinned in their eyes brightly as they scrabbled up the rocky pathway. Having the goal fresh in his mind was one of the things that kept Xaus going. His clothes and the salty air continuously rubbed at his wounds, making it hard for Xaus to stay upright on the path. Getting up to the lighthouse seemed like it took an eternity and a half, but they finally made it. Xaus wanted to kiss the battered white walls of the lighthouse in relief.


Around the time he and Vane reached the lighthouse, the other warriors from the beach where starting to gather with them. Xaus caught his breath before making his way into the safe confines of the lighthouse with the rest of the group. Inside, it was very comforting to be protected from the elements and the dangers of the dark magic. The lighthouse was a more than decent size, enough to fit everybody in comfortably (although Xaus did hit his head on the his way in). Lucky for them, the things didn't look terribly ransacked or scavenged through. There wasn't that much to the lighthouse on this level; some crates, a table, chairs, and bits of nature that had gotten in was all that he saw. Anything valuable that happened to be hanging out in the open was probably gone, but there could by a few things if they looked around carefully enough. One of the rough chairs looked to be Xaus' best bet for his sitting arrangements. There was no way that he was going to lean against the wall like a couple of the other survivors where doing. He gingerly sat himself down on the chair nearest to him, wanting to throw it out the window when he found it had a wobbling leg. His leg throbbed with even more pain as the magic wore off completely. Definitely wanted more care for his injuries before he would be able to fall asleep. But he wasn't going to be too picky.


Taking action, Xaus rummaged through his knapsack for any bandages that he might still have. He was running low on almost everything, but he did have some cloth he snatched and he used that to wrap around the wounded leg, putting pressure on it and stopping the remaining bleeding. It was tempting to ask the female light mage for help once more. Yet, she was probably too drained like the rest of them. He could ask for help later if she was feeling perky. Now that was done, he checked the various scratches he had on his chest; to his relief, they were nowhere near life-threatening and had already almost completely stopped bleeding. His light clothes were good for running around and shooting at targets, but not for protecting the body from harm if the enemy got anywhere close. The fighting had left his top blood-stained, soaked with rain, sweat, and were torn in many places. It wasn't doing any good for his wounds and the cold, damp, cloth made Xaus shiver. He sighed and looked through his pack for any clean clothes, dimly noticing the other people talking to each other while he was doing so. Of course he didn't have anything he could change into. His ideal survival plan was to stay as far away from danger as possible.


He ended up taking off his shirt anyhow. It was too miserable to leave in on, and he really didn't want it rubbing on his wounds anymore. Perhaps there was clothing somewhere in the lighthouse? That would be a real miracle. Or he could talk to the other people and ask if they had anything.


"My name is Xaus. A lightning/mystic mage, raised in a tiny and rural village of Southern Valia. Nice to meet more survivors. So, I was wondering if any of you had some spare clothing that I could wear," Xaus said with his eyes fixed on the window, seeing the sky being painted an orange hue as the sun sunk into the ocean.


Xaus hugged his arms close to his chest, chilled and worn out. Being alive consisted of a series of uncomfortable and miserable events. How awful. And now he had to talk with other people too.

 

[Epiphany]

Rue arrived at the lighthouse with everyone else, though she and Holland were among the last to crawl their way inside. She chuckles at Joachim's grumbling comment about the rain and adds "I could stand a bath. I expect most of us could. I'm going to see if I can find us a bucket at least. We'll need drinking water and, hopefully, enough to clean out our wounds before they get infected."


Then Vane asked that dreaded question. One that brought the storm-eyed healer to silence. Then Jvala introduced herself and admitted a birth in Aliak, where Vaila's Magicians congregated to practice what most people in the west considered supernatural ill, if not outright evil. Xaus' admission followed on her heels and Rue's heart sank. Amazing. She'd always thought of herself as above such superstitions. After all, the Order of the Wise Ones were known to employ the mystical arts themselves, if in a far narrower sense than the Valian Academies. Still, the presence of people who could wield magic, and who'd admit to it, forced her to confront prejudices she hadn't known she had.


"I'm Rue," she said, by way of introduction. "I'm a healer from the Order of the Wise Ones here in the West. And while I haven't trained at your Academies, I have some gift in healing wounds. I've exhausted it for the moment, though, so here's what I'd like us to do. I need a volunteer to collect some wood, perhaps from that broken door there, and another to start a fire in the firepit. All of us are soaked to the bone and, if battle has left us feeling warm, it won't last. We need heat. Next, we need a pot or something we can boil water in. I need to treat your wounds before they get infected while I'm waiting for strength to come back."


"The rest of you, let's see your wounds. Even the superficial ones. There's no telling if those monsters out there were envenomed." She smirked slightly as she added "Preserve your modesty if you can but we're all in tight quarters here so we might as well get used to each other."


"Who's next to introduce themselves?" she asked as she started with Xaus, inspecting his wounds and helping him to clean out the injuries as best as she could. "I only have what I'm wearing," she said softly to the tall archer. "I could offer you my coat but you're a foot taller than me, I'm not sure it'd fit. It's yours if you want it though."


"Oh, if someone wants to volunteer to keep an eye out in case something decides to creep up on us, I for one would appreciate knowing if certain death's on its way." Her chuckle was grim.