Javax
The Shadow
Health: 87%
Status: Healed | Energy Restored
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Mood: Suspicious | Uneasy Rejuvenated | Excited
Location: Cultist Dungeon: Storage Room Portal Room -
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She stood unnervingly still as the Nosritrel [1] approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her anxious at the contact. There was a moment of silence as he scanned her physical condition. These "scans" always felt unusual to the wolf-elf; it felt as though there was someone traveling through her body and taking note of every possible injury and hindrance. It wasn't the first time she encountered this sort of pre-healing procedure; a few of the prisoners at Sanguine Isle were specialized healers who used similar techniques as the vampire, tending to her wounds after punishments and torture. Because of the rogue's experience in the technique, she was able to turn the vampire's "eyes" away from whatever she deemed unnecessary to look at, especially memories and emotions. From what she could tell, he didn't seem to notice the subtle nudges.
The blind hybrid was slightly irritated by the blood-sucker's redundant findings. She already knew what was wrong with her; it was her who had undergone all the punishment, torture, and manual labor that took its terrible toll on her. The rogue didn't need him verbally declaring the obvious to her as if she were an unintelligible pup. But perhaps it wasn't for her sake. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism for what's to come for the Nosritrel. It seemed as such; there was tension in his voice and muscles, and nervousness was emanating off of him in waves so thick, she could've mistaken it for a soft breeze. Or was that the half-Avariel in the corner controlling the air around them subtly? What was the vampire's healing technique that caused him to behave in such a way?
A dagger was removed from its sheath, the familiar shiiiiink resonating in the wolf hybrid's ears. Roxii tensed. Was the Nosritrel going to stab her? That seemed rather counterproductive. He was supposed to heal her, not kill her. But her questions were answered as the blade pierced the Nosritrel's flesh, not her's. It was then that it hit her: he didn't smell so strongly of blood just because he was a vampire; he was also a blood mage.
The Peredhel [2] had encountered a few other blood mages in her lifetime, but she had only met one. A member of the Crimson Shadow, Lazar Depraysie was one of the only healers of the assassin's guild, and he was an exceptional killer. Roxii and Lazar didn't speak too much, but she had to meet with him quite a few times the first couple months after her induction. He had taught her a few of the techniques she knows today, mentoring her when she was training with Falaern Damaer, the leader of the Crimson Shadow.
The healing process began, and the familiar uneasiness settled within her. She'd encountered this sort of healing only once before, and that was after she'd slipped up on one of her first assassinations. The Lythari had been found in a dark, abandoned alleyway and had to be carried back to the hideout and to Lazar. She was hardly conscious when the healing took place, but the assassin remembered the blood sacrifice that was required and the mage's own blood merging with her own. The current healing process felt similar, but now she was fully conscious and could feel everything that was occurring. If she felt uneasy before, then she was certainly uneasy now.
While the healing was taking place, the magical bard responded to her question, introducing himself as Daecante as more images flashed across her mind's eye, thanks to the traveling bard. The fact that he supposedly knew her—and by name—was more unsettling than the blood magic occurring at that very moment. Her name was well known across Landfall, but no one except those in the Crimson Shadow should be able to associate her face with the name. Even her captors kept her secret safe, sending her to Sanguine Isle under no name and no history. The only words on her record were "Murderer, 487 victims." Of course, none of the other prisoners were permitted to know each other's official records and history without asking the prisoner themselves, but the guards knew that she was a threat to be dealt with. Harshly.
She stayed silent as the blood-sucker's healing process came to an end. He didn't seem to be too bothered by the fact that he just had a razor-sharp weapon stab his chest, dangerously close to his heart, by his own hand. Then again, the Shadow figured this wasn't the first time he had performed such an act. However, she found the placement of the self-inflicted injury rather brash and dramatic. He couldn't have chosen a less risky location for the injury?
The wolf-elf flicked her injured ear in response to Daecante's proposal but remained silent. Then the other elf, one that simply radiated a light that somewhat singed the Lythari's darkness, momentarily joined the conversation. Her form of elvish was distinctly different, but the Peredhel could understand her well enough. She supposed it was because of their differing heritages; Roxii was a hybrid species of elf whereas the light elf was of pure elven blood, and if she were to guess by her wolfen senses and current knowledge, she was from the Eldar elves, an ancient species of elf that Roxii had heard highly of. This group of prisoners was growing more interesting by the moment.
Finally, after everyone had situated themselves and prepared themselves for the journey to freedom, Daecante began leading the group out of the storage room and down the hallway. Thanks to the Nosritrel, Roxii found it much easier to move around and use her shadow magic. The wolf-elf began sending out regular pulses of energy, making them large enough to be able to see everything clearly and to easily mark which ways they had to go. To everyone else, the dungeon must've seemed like amaze of rights and lefts and twists and turns, but the blind hybrid possessed a bird's eye view of the layout of the dungeon, much like a map imprinted on her mind. The Shadow relayed the directions to the magical bard, leading him to a room that harbored an unusual power. From what she could tell, there were no visible exits leading to the outside, and the unusual energy seemed like some sort of portal. She'd encountered a few before but has never used any of them before. She figured that the portal was the only feasible means of escape for the group of prisoners.
Before long, the cultists' prisoners arrived to the room. It wasn't until she entered the room that she was able to "see" the other, unknown presence in the room. Much like a blinding light, the portal's energy drowned out the room's appearance and inhabitants from afar, but now that she was in the vicinity she was able to see clearly. There was another cultist standing guard before the ball of energy. He was different from the cultists who captured her and the one who came to retrieve them earlier. She supposed he was one of the fighters among their ranks, meant to make sure that no one passed through the portal without his permission. And the long-handled, magic-imbued weapon in his grasp confirmed her suspicions.
Only a moment passed before one of their own rushed the cultist. Roxii wondered if the sole prisoner was stupid, stepping out of the way to avoid being slammed into. The wolf hybrid watched as the other expertly dodged the cultist's attack but was slung off to the side like a used rag. Daecante summoned his magical instrument and began playing a melody, most likely opting to provide background support in terms of energy and strength. As confirmation, the blind rogue could feel power floating in the air and imbuing itself within the others, including herself. Excitement and adrenaline began flowing through the assassin's veins, fueling her further. It has been so long since she has engaged in any sort of combat. She just hoped the cultist would actually put up a decent fight; the Shadow didn't want the fight to be too easy, as that would be so boring.
The wolf hybrid removed one of her daggers from its sheath and twirled it expertly, the black blade glinting in the low light. She was satisfied with the familiar weight of her weapon; it's been quite a while since she'd gripped her weapons in her own hands. She surged forward—seemingly blindly—but made sure to send out her usual energy pulses, keeping an eye on her opponent: the guard-like cultist. He noticed that she was charging him next, averting his attention from the half-Avariel to the wolf-elf. He made a move to halt her by swiping the spear horizontally. He hoped to catch the blind rogue off-guard, finding it stupid that a blind girl was rushing an armed cultist with seemingly feeble knives.
However, the small hybrid dodged the attack and collapsed to the ground underneath it, using her built up momentum to slide past him, but not without grasping one of his ankles while passing. Once past the cultist, she sprung up to her feet, gripping the cultist's foot with all her strength—she was grateful for the bard's magical melodies—, and yanked it upwards to flip him off of his feet. Roxii retrieved her other dagger and got into an offensive stance and willed a thin coat of darkness to layer over her daggers, waiting for one of the others to make a move or for her to continue the attack.
The blind hybrid was slightly irritated by the blood-sucker's redundant findings. She already knew what was wrong with her; it was her who had undergone all the punishment, torture, and manual labor that took its terrible toll on her. The rogue didn't need him verbally declaring the obvious to her as if she were an unintelligible pup. But perhaps it wasn't for her sake. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism for what's to come for the Nosritrel. It seemed as such; there was tension in his voice and muscles, and nervousness was emanating off of him in waves so thick, she could've mistaken it for a soft breeze. Or was that the half-Avariel in the corner controlling the air around them subtly? What was the vampire's healing technique that caused him to behave in such a way?
A dagger was removed from its sheath, the familiar shiiiiink resonating in the wolf hybrid's ears. Roxii tensed. Was the Nosritrel going to stab her? That seemed rather counterproductive. He was supposed to heal her, not kill her. But her questions were answered as the blade pierced the Nosritrel's flesh, not her's. It was then that it hit her: he didn't smell so strongly of blood just because he was a vampire; he was also a blood mage.
The Peredhel [2] had encountered a few other blood mages in her lifetime, but she had only met one. A member of the Crimson Shadow, Lazar Depraysie was one of the only healers of the assassin's guild, and he was an exceptional killer. Roxii and Lazar didn't speak too much, but she had to meet with him quite a few times the first couple months after her induction. He had taught her a few of the techniques she knows today, mentoring her when she was training with Falaern Damaer, the leader of the Crimson Shadow.
The healing process began, and the familiar uneasiness settled within her. She'd encountered this sort of healing only once before, and that was after she'd slipped up on one of her first assassinations. The Lythari had been found in a dark, abandoned alleyway and had to be carried back to the hideout and to Lazar. She was hardly conscious when the healing took place, but the assassin remembered the blood sacrifice that was required and the mage's own blood merging with her own. The current healing process felt similar, but now she was fully conscious and could feel everything that was occurring. If she felt uneasy before, then she was certainly uneasy now.
While the healing was taking place, the magical bard responded to her question, introducing himself as Daecante as more images flashed across her mind's eye, thanks to the traveling bard. The fact that he supposedly knew her—and by name—was more unsettling than the blood magic occurring at that very moment. Her name was well known across Landfall, but no one except those in the Crimson Shadow should be able to associate her face with the name. Even her captors kept her secret safe, sending her to Sanguine Isle under no name and no history. The only words on her record were "Murderer, 487 victims." Of course, none of the other prisoners were permitted to know each other's official records and history without asking the prisoner themselves, but the guards knew that she was a threat to be dealt with. Harshly.
She stayed silent as the blood-sucker's healing process came to an end. He didn't seem to be too bothered by the fact that he just had a razor-sharp weapon stab his chest, dangerously close to his heart, by his own hand. Then again, the Shadow figured this wasn't the first time he had performed such an act. However, she found the placement of the self-inflicted injury rather brash and dramatic. He couldn't have chosen a less risky location for the injury?
The wolf-elf flicked her injured ear in response to Daecante's proposal but remained silent. Then the other elf, one that simply radiated a light that somewhat singed the Lythari's darkness, momentarily joined the conversation. Her form of elvish was distinctly different, but the Peredhel could understand her well enough. She supposed it was because of their differing heritages; Roxii was a hybrid species of elf whereas the light elf was of pure elven blood, and if she were to guess by her wolfen senses and current knowledge, she was from the Eldar elves, an ancient species of elf that Roxii had heard highly of. This group of prisoners was growing more interesting by the moment.
Finally, after everyone had situated themselves and prepared themselves for the journey to freedom, Daecante began leading the group out of the storage room and down the hallway. Thanks to the Nosritrel, Roxii found it much easier to move around and use her shadow magic. The wolf-elf began sending out regular pulses of energy, making them large enough to be able to see everything clearly and to easily mark which ways they had to go. To everyone else, the dungeon must've seemed like amaze of rights and lefts and twists and turns, but the blind hybrid possessed a bird's eye view of the layout of the dungeon, much like a map imprinted on her mind. The Shadow relayed the directions to the magical bard, leading him to a room that harbored an unusual power. From what she could tell, there were no visible exits leading to the outside, and the unusual energy seemed like some sort of portal. She'd encountered a few before but has never used any of them before. She figured that the portal was the only feasible means of escape for the group of prisoners.
Before long, the cultists' prisoners arrived to the room. It wasn't until she entered the room that she was able to "see" the other, unknown presence in the room. Much like a blinding light, the portal's energy drowned out the room's appearance and inhabitants from afar, but now that she was in the vicinity she was able to see clearly. There was another cultist standing guard before the ball of energy. He was different from the cultists who captured her and the one who came to retrieve them earlier. She supposed he was one of the fighters among their ranks, meant to make sure that no one passed through the portal without his permission. And the long-handled, magic-imbued weapon in his grasp confirmed her suspicions.
Only a moment passed before one of their own rushed the cultist. Roxii wondered if the sole prisoner was stupid, stepping out of the way to avoid being slammed into. The wolf hybrid watched as the other expertly dodged the cultist's attack but was slung off to the side like a used rag. Daecante summoned his magical instrument and began playing a melody, most likely opting to provide background support in terms of energy and strength. As confirmation, the blind rogue could feel power floating in the air and imbuing itself within the others, including herself. Excitement and adrenaline began flowing through the assassin's veins, fueling her further. It has been so long since she has engaged in any sort of combat. She just hoped the cultist would actually put up a decent fight; the Shadow didn't want the fight to be too easy, as that would be so boring.
The wolf hybrid removed one of her daggers from its sheath and twirled it expertly, the black blade glinting in the low light. She was satisfied with the familiar weight of her weapon; it's been quite a while since she'd gripped her weapons in her own hands. She surged forward—seemingly blindly—but made sure to send out her usual energy pulses, keeping an eye on her opponent: the guard-like cultist. He noticed that she was charging him next, averting his attention from the half-Avariel to the wolf-elf. He made a move to halt her by swiping the spear horizontally. He hoped to catch the blind rogue off-guard, finding it stupid that a blind girl was rushing an armed cultist with seemingly feeble knives.
However, the small hybrid dodged the attack and collapsed to the ground underneath it, using her built up momentum to slide past him, but not without grasping one of his ankles while passing. Once past the cultist, she sprung up to her feet, gripping the cultist's foot with all her strength—she was grateful for the bard's magical melodies—, and yanked it upwards to flip him off of his feet. Roxii retrieved her other dagger and got into an offensive stance and willed a thin coat of darkness to layer over her daggers, waiting for one of the others to make a move or for her to continue the attack.
Translations:
1. Nosritrel Vampire
2. Peredhel Half-elf
The only real way to defeat this cultist is to make attacks that either cannot be blocked or avoided, or to disorientate it.
