12/11/2010
The Wolvar's Request.
Ryu's footsteps left barely an imprint in the cold earth as he tracked his target. Red hair was carefully tied in place, keeping it out of his eyes, yet long to show off his status. The top knot was bent with weight, two strands of hair a few finger lengths in width were used to tie and keep it in place in intricate bows.
He breathed out, slowly, his breath crisping in the chill air of the Borean Tundra. He checked a piece of paper, confirming once more that the one he followed was indeed his target. He checked off identifying facial features, night elven face markings, the right scarred by a jagged slash that curled behind his ear. The left eyebrow with three distinct slices parting the strong brow. A nose that had been broken more than once in its owner's long, long life.
A void in space rubbed against his pantsleg, leaving warmth and pressure against the cold limb. A hand trailed down, resting against the air.
"Soon Saber, soon." He barely whispered, his eyes tracking the warrior. He moved from the cover of the dying trees, and shadowed his prey. Snowbolds that had somehow managed to survive in this harsh and freezing climate avoided him outright, the few insane ones even contemplating it received arrows between their monolithic brows. Not one sound was uttered in warning, shock, or fear.
Ryu continued to tail his target, his prey, his bounty. The night elf had done something very, very, very bad. The Wolvar had come to him, begging, crying, not caring about honour so long as blood debt be paid. They used charcoal to draw the elf's image, then of him arriving, killing the den mothers and hunters, kidnapping the cubs, and stuffing them into a gigantic sack. They showed how he slaughtered the younglings that fought back, gutting them with a dark grin, throwing their little bodies at the enraged hunters that tried to kill him.
They had turned to him with tears in their eyes, and just the tiniest, slimmest spark of hope that he would help, as no other had.
Ryu had kept silent the entire time, for should he had moved, he would have exploded into violence! That one of the long lived races dared commit this atrocity, to even throw the carcasses of the cubs as though they were toys... Livid with rage, he finally moved. The den mothers were moved back as the hunters stepped forwards, weapons raised as he went for a dagger, then watched in shock as he dipped the blade into his forearm, and slit his arm. Blood gushed, hot and fresh as he moved forwards, and held his bleeding arm over the small fire that was present. His blood hissed, steamed, and evaporated, making the Wolvar salivate.
In the presence of all that needed him most strongly that day, Ryu swore blood oath that they would have the head of the one who had done this. Pack song soared and raged as they accepted his oath, sharp teeth touching at his fingers as hands pulled his arm from the fire, so that they might taste his oath, his strength, and his unbending will.
Ryu stopped as his target stopped. The slit in his arm itched, but the blood had long since stopped leaking from the gash, his immediate application of two heavy frostweave bandages seeing to it. Eyes of blue ice-fire bore holes into his target's back, but no malice was ever sent his way. Ryu had learnt long ago that to throw your aura around would merely tell your prey when you neared. Best to hunt silent, deadly, uncaring if you succeeded or lost, then unleash yourself when the kill was near.
He watched the elf take off the backpack he carried, and search its contents. He looked around once, then pulled out a hearth stone! Ryu's face snarled with savage rage, and he motioned for his invisible friend to go, now.
Snow moved as the creature leapt forth in the first sprint, and then nothing. Ryu pulled an arrow, and sighted along the shaft, pulling back with muscles well honed for combat. Magic played against his face as he borrowed the eyes of the hawk, felt the arrow's path, and concentrated. He waited, even while his prey charged natural energies, rubbing the stone to activate it. He willed silence into his shot, willed death and damage, then released!
The wooden missile shot forth from his bow at such speed, it was already in his prey's back as the bow string whapped his fingers. The man's cry echoed the length of the valley, and then the invisible beast was wrapped around his throat. Saber's eyes glared with a fury matched only by her owner's as she used her weight to pull the night elf down, her powerful jaws clamping tight, cutting off air and blood circulation. Years of instinct, nurtured by her trainer, suffocated the male in his heavy leather.
Ryu was already dashing from his hiding spot as Saber leapt, knowing he had seconds before she killed him. He reached her just as the night elf was losing consciousness, and touched her head. The ghostly pelt shuddered, and slowly she released her death grip. Blood spurted within her maw from the puncture marks her canines had made in the night elf's neck. Already Ryu's cold hands were wrapping a linen bandage around the man's neck. The movements were cold, precise, hostile without seeming to.
He had been contracted, and the man would die, but he would pay a hundred fold for the lives he had taken before Ryu even considered allowing him to pass into Elune's grasp.
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Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you will.
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Demon
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Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you will.
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
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Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
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- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
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The hot circle moved accross the sky. Another mark was made in the pole. The Wolvar counted his markings, mouthing the words the no fur creature had used. His long tongue slicked accross teeth that turned even the heavy hided talbuk into tender meat. He counted again with the mouth sounds of the no fur creature, trying to remember how many marks this was.
"Twenty-seven"
Shrieked as the voice spoke behind him, jumping, rolling, grabbing poles to use as weapons, and saw the no fur creature with snow skin standing there with a satchel and a bloody paper. Calls were made, gathering called, elders roused. Two hearth fires later, and the remainder of the village encircled no fur.
The spirit that was his snarled from the air, the no fur reaching down to his side to pat the spirit, calming it. That was the reason the Wolvar had asked this no fur for help. It had the spirit as its guide. An elder poked the one who was named speaker, and he struggled to remember the no fur words.
"You come... many hot sky ago." The no fur nodded, silent, hooded, none had seen its face, but all knew its skin, the gloves it wore baring the fingers that tenderly wrapped around a bow string, as older males wrapped their hands about den mothers to be.
The Wolvar struggled to find the words. Seeing his frustration, the no fur spoke, its tongue whispering with its words.
"When I came, you were fearful, desperate. You asked me to find the cub killer, the mother slayer, the destroyer of young lives. I asked you wait twenty-seven days. I have returned, with proof of your killer's death. He suffered a long, long, long time before I finally gave him death. His body is scattered, all along the cold place you call home. His internals are draped accross the huts he violated, his blood soaks the graves of the little ones."
No fur moved the sack he was holding, presenting it to the clan chief. Even the clan chief didn't want to go near no fur, for he had seen nothing, smelt nothing as no fur walked within the village. No fur was death, to go against it was to be removed from the village for madness. No fur was insistant, and finally the clan chief took the sack, biting the tight cords and opening the sack. Blood was sniffed at by all those nearby. The sack was full of it. A steady gaze, and no fur continued.
"I give you the one thing all creatures have, proof that his body is nothing but scattered remains."
Clan chief growled, and a big bowl was brought forth. He tipped the blood into the bowl, untill he had to press at an object within it that wouldn't slip through the gap left in his hands. The blood drained, he tipped the object into his hand, and the village gasped.
A thick, strong heart lay within the clan chief's furred hand, blood oozing from its center as the clan chief squeezed it lightly. Ten-pair and ten-pair of eyes turned to no fur, and he removed another sack.
"I did many, many things to this one who had offered death to your village. Each day he suffered new fear, new pain, new tortures. I gutted him, then healed him, broke his back, and healed him, blinded him, and healed him. Be at peace, for he suffered hundreds of times more than your kin did. I can only offer sadness and understanding, and wishes that I had been there that day, for he would not have made it past the first death."
The Wolvar quaked, feeling the cold, burning rage of no fur. They had seen him, they knew he would have stopped the other no fur. Many had seen no fur give blood oath, had tasted the will to kill, many still could taste the hot blood, strong, male, dragon killer blood.
The second sack was pressed into speaker's hands. A drop of liquid touched his hands, and he looked up into no fur's hood, and forgot how to live.
Eyes of blue ice-fire smoldered with grief, and he knew, no fur was a god. Maybe not god like cold wind and hot circle, but a being of such strength, none could stand against it. He licked his hand when no fur turned away, tasting salt water. No fur grieved for them!
Speaker watched as no fur moved away from the village, and faded into the cold winds, leaving behind his presents of blood, and the paper they had used to show the destroyer's face. The blood of the destroyer crossed out his face, more proof that no fur had done what was bid.
Speaker opened the sack as the others growled about him, reached in, and froze. His furred hand met more fur. Gripping the fur he pulled, and out came the head of the destroyer. Den mothers screamed in fear, hunters readied spears, untill speaker showed no body was attached. Destroyer of little lives and den mothers was dead, no fur had promised.
Long, drawn out howls echoed within Borean Tundra as the Wolvar announced their debt paid. Future generations would sing the song of the no fur god with eyes of ice-fire, that made the spirits his guides.
Ryu wiped at his eyes as his Ghost Saber rubbed herself against and between his legs, trying her best to comfort her master. Soft hands dropped to her head, rubbing behind her ears in the way she adored.
"Sorry Saber... I'm just a bit of a mess." Ryu took a deep breath, before sighing, his mood altering, turning happy and joyous as he used his training to force a mood swing. "I owe you a shoveltusk steak for this job. Or would you like some firecracker salmon?" Ryu laughed out loud as the living ghost shoved against him, trapping him under her and licking his hooded face with her rough tongue.
The hot circle moved accross the sky. Another mark was made in the pole. The Wolvar counted his markings, mouthing the words the no fur creature had used. His long tongue slicked accross teeth that turned even the heavy hided talbuk into tender meat. He counted again with the mouth sounds of the no fur creature, trying to remember how many marks this was.
"Twenty-seven"
Shrieked as the voice spoke behind him, jumping, rolling, grabbing poles to use as weapons, and saw the no fur creature with snow skin standing there with a satchel and a bloody paper. Calls were made, gathering called, elders roused. Two hearth fires later, and the remainder of the village encircled no fur.
The spirit that was his snarled from the air, the no fur reaching down to his side to pat the spirit, calming it. That was the reason the Wolvar had asked this no fur for help. It had the spirit as its guide. An elder poked the one who was named speaker, and he struggled to remember the no fur words.
"You come... many hot sky ago." The no fur nodded, silent, hooded, none had seen its face, but all knew its skin, the gloves it wore baring the fingers that tenderly wrapped around a bow string, as older males wrapped their hands about den mothers to be.
The Wolvar struggled to find the words. Seeing his frustration, the no fur spoke, its tongue whispering with its words.
"When I came, you were fearful, desperate. You asked me to find the cub killer, the mother slayer, the destroyer of young lives. I asked you wait twenty-seven days. I have returned, with proof of your killer's death. He suffered a long, long, long time before I finally gave him death. His body is scattered, all along the cold place you call home. His internals are draped accross the huts he violated, his blood soaks the graves of the little ones."
No fur moved the sack he was holding, presenting it to the clan chief. Even the clan chief didn't want to go near no fur, for he had seen nothing, smelt nothing as no fur walked within the village. No fur was death, to go against it was to be removed from the village for madness. No fur was insistant, and finally the clan chief took the sack, biting the tight cords and opening the sack. Blood was sniffed at by all those nearby. The sack was full of it. A steady gaze, and no fur continued.
"I give you the one thing all creatures have, proof that his body is nothing but scattered remains."
Clan chief growled, and a big bowl was brought forth. He tipped the blood into the bowl, untill he had to press at an object within it that wouldn't slip through the gap left in his hands. The blood drained, he tipped the object into his hand, and the village gasped.
A thick, strong heart lay within the clan chief's furred hand, blood oozing from its center as the clan chief squeezed it lightly. Ten-pair and ten-pair of eyes turned to no fur, and he removed another sack.
"I did many, many things to this one who had offered death to your village. Each day he suffered new fear, new pain, new tortures. I gutted him, then healed him, broke his back, and healed him, blinded him, and healed him. Be at peace, for he suffered hundreds of times more than your kin did. I can only offer sadness and understanding, and wishes that I had been there that day, for he would not have made it past the first death."
The Wolvar quaked, feeling the cold, burning rage of no fur. They had seen him, they knew he would have stopped the other no fur. Many had seen no fur give blood oath, had tasted the will to kill, many still could taste the hot blood, strong, male, dragon killer blood.
The second sack was pressed into speaker's hands. A drop of liquid touched his hands, and he looked up into no fur's hood, and forgot how to live.
Eyes of blue ice-fire smoldered with grief, and he knew, no fur was a god. Maybe not god like cold wind and hot circle, but a being of such strength, none could stand against it. He licked his hand when no fur turned away, tasting salt water. No fur grieved for them!
Speaker watched as no fur moved away from the village, and faded into the cold winds, leaving behind his presents of blood, and the paper they had used to show the destroyer's face. The blood of the destroyer crossed out his face, more proof that no fur had done what was bid.
Speaker opened the sack as the others growled about him, reached in, and froze. His furred hand met more fur. Gripping the fur he pulled, and out came the head of the destroyer. Den mothers screamed in fear, hunters readied spears, untill speaker showed no body was attached. Destroyer of little lives and den mothers was dead, no fur had promised.
Long, drawn out howls echoed within Borean Tundra as the Wolvar announced their debt paid. Future generations would sing the song of the no fur god with eyes of ice-fire, that made the spirits his guides.
Ryu wiped at his eyes as his Ghost Saber rubbed herself against and between his legs, trying her best to comfort her master. Soft hands dropped to her head, rubbing behind her ears in the way she adored.
"Sorry Saber... I'm just a bit of a mess." Ryu took a deep breath, before sighing, his mood altering, turning happy and joyous as he used his training to force a mood swing. "I owe you a shoveltusk steak for this job. Or would you like some firecracker salmon?" Ryu laughed out loud as the living ghost shoved against him, trapping him under her and licking his hooded face with her rough tongue.
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
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Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
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- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
Occulus.
"SHERISTERA!" Liyr funneled all of his magical power into the greatest spell of shielding he could imagine, encasing his green dragon friend, staving off the deathblow being delivered to her. The other dragons that were helping his party fight back the blue dragon Eregos, offered mourning calls for the dragon soon to die. The bronze dragons were the loudest, offering death calls for the soul about to pass. The ruby drake spared not a glance, his mind centered upon Eregos, his rider likewise minded.
Liyr dropped like a stone with Sheristera, his legs wrapped about her neck, his eyes watering at their rapid descent from the towering Occulus. His party gave yells for him to release his fallen dragon, but he ignored them, focusing only upon the power he could summon in a very short time. The frozen wastes of the isle rocketed upwards, and Liyr performed a minor miracle. Placing both hands upon his mount, he shoved what magical energy he had left into a Levitation spell upon Sheristera. Their descent slowed dramatically, and Liyr sought to work yet another miracle. He shivered in the buffet of frosted winds while searching his bags for his worse case scenario items. He pulled out two flasks, and two trinkets. He downed one flask, his meagre pool of magical energy nearing it's maximum after he had partaken of the icy blue contents. After placing it down with his backpack, it immediately started to refill with the liquid once more, an endless supply. The second flask was dark, cloudy, and stank of death. This, too, he downed without a second's thought. Immediately his eyes watered, his sight increased magically, and energy appeared to sift and weave from his body in light gusts.
He placed the empty flask back into his bag, and grasped the two trinkets. He cast spells upon himself, increasing his spiritual power immensely, along with his magical strength. Sheristera turned a single golden eye to him, and within that single orb, Liyr saw a glimmer of hope. Liyr placed his clenched fists against her green hide, and began a spell of healing so powerful, a single mistake would kill the both of them. Hours and days, minutes or seconds, his willpower refused to allow his dragon mount to die. The faint cries of the bronze dragons, the perceivers of time in all its form, halted and changed. Eregos' twisted form landed nearby, shattering the ground, yet Liyr never so much as blinked. His power fluctuated as he pushed himself beyond his mortal limits, his will demanding more and more in order to restore Sheristera to full health. Glowing energy slowly reknit her wounds together, her magical body fighting the holy energy because it was not her own. Had Liyr taken a moment to remove that characteristic of all dragons, her life after healing would be forfeit. Never again would she be able to deflect spells with her body.
"Yorun, anything you can do for him?" The blood elf paladin kicked the undead mage that was busy collecting large quantities of Eregos' cooling blood.
"Hmm?" Yorun looked up, his hands moving to protect the precious fluid from harm before he could even see the threat. "Oh.." He looked to Liyr's still form and shrugged, his collar bone poking through his patched robes. "He's a blood elf, just give him mana to absorb." He turned back to his work, his features stiff in the frozen winds. His corrupted fingers moved quickly, filling vials and vials with magically infused blood. The paladin scowled, stomped over to Liyr, and placed his hand against his back. A brief flash of light illuminated the area, then the paladin fell, white, gasping, and disoriented. Yorun looked up from his work, his golden eyes crinkling slightly. "Fool.." He whispered under his breath, finding it funny that the elf wouldn't think to partition his mana in order to stop all of it being absorbed.
The paladin shivered in his armor, his red drake mount nudging him with his nose.
You're an idiot you know. You should know to never interrupt any type of spell as great as what the elf is trying to work.
Had he any strength left, the paladin may have tried to hit the drake, but as it was all his energy was going into staying alive. The drake's piercing gaze took the paladin's eyes, and it decided something. It moved a step closer and settled down upon the cold, barren earth. It reached over and tugged the paladin, scraping his armor accross the ice, and held his body under one leg. His heat kept the cold at bay, and worked to restore the paladin to normal.
I want some mammoth tusks for this, and some shoveltusk steaks.
The paladin uttered not a word, simply glad that he wasn't dead for his act of idiocy.
Liyr felt a small amount of mana at his back, a thought, and he absorbed it. The amount was small, barely even worth taking, but every drop was necessary for what he was doing. He could feel more mana, an even larger and stronger force to his far right, but he couldn't risk leaving Sheristera to take it. So he stayed where he was, his mind constantly casting spells, drawing upon magical energies, dragging energy back from his heals in order to reuse it over and over again. Both hands started to ache as the need to grasp hold of the strong, magical items worked their effects. His bones were starting to hum, and while humming they started to crack. Super fine cracks started to line his finger bones, his knuckles became stressed more than his finger bones as they received two seperate sources of vibration, making them damage themselves faster. Should Liyr continue his endeavour, the likelyhood of his hands becoming useless, was a valid concern. The trinkets he held were magical constructs that had been created in order to function as magical storehouses. One held several week's worth of Liyr's magical power, while the other turned each one of his seperate heals into more mana.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"SHERISTERA!" Liyr funneled all of his magical power into the greatest spell of shielding he could imagine, encasing his green dragon friend, staving off the deathblow being delivered to her. The other dragons that were helping his party fight back the blue dragon Eregos, offered mourning calls for the dragon soon to die. The bronze dragons were the loudest, offering death calls for the soul about to pass. The ruby drake spared not a glance, his mind centered upon Eregos, his rider likewise minded.
Liyr dropped like a stone with Sheristera, his legs wrapped about her neck, his eyes watering at their rapid descent from the towering Occulus. His party gave yells for him to release his fallen dragon, but he ignored them, focusing only upon the power he could summon in a very short time. The frozen wastes of the isle rocketed upwards, and Liyr performed a minor miracle. Placing both hands upon his mount, he shoved what magical energy he had left into a Levitation spell upon Sheristera. Their descent slowed dramatically, and Liyr sought to work yet another miracle. He shivered in the buffet of frosted winds while searching his bags for his worse case scenario items. He pulled out two flasks, and two trinkets. He downed one flask, his meagre pool of magical energy nearing it's maximum after he had partaken of the icy blue contents. After placing it down with his backpack, it immediately started to refill with the liquid once more, an endless supply. The second flask was dark, cloudy, and stank of death. This, too, he downed without a second's thought. Immediately his eyes watered, his sight increased magically, and energy appeared to sift and weave from his body in light gusts.
He placed the empty flask back into his bag, and grasped the two trinkets. He cast spells upon himself, increasing his spiritual power immensely, along with his magical strength. Sheristera turned a single golden eye to him, and within that single orb, Liyr saw a glimmer of hope. Liyr placed his clenched fists against her green hide, and began a spell of healing so powerful, a single mistake would kill the both of them. Hours and days, minutes or seconds, his willpower refused to allow his dragon mount to die. The faint cries of the bronze dragons, the perceivers of time in all its form, halted and changed. Eregos' twisted form landed nearby, shattering the ground, yet Liyr never so much as blinked. His power fluctuated as he pushed himself beyond his mortal limits, his will demanding more and more in order to restore Sheristera to full health. Glowing energy slowly reknit her wounds together, her magical body fighting the holy energy because it was not her own. Had Liyr taken a moment to remove that characteristic of all dragons, her life after healing would be forfeit. Never again would she be able to deflect spells with her body.
"Yorun, anything you can do for him?" The blood elf paladin kicked the undead mage that was busy collecting large quantities of Eregos' cooling blood.
"Hmm?" Yorun looked up, his hands moving to protect the precious fluid from harm before he could even see the threat. "Oh.." He looked to Liyr's still form and shrugged, his collar bone poking through his patched robes. "He's a blood elf, just give him mana to absorb." He turned back to his work, his features stiff in the frozen winds. His corrupted fingers moved quickly, filling vials and vials with magically infused blood. The paladin scowled, stomped over to Liyr, and placed his hand against his back. A brief flash of light illuminated the area, then the paladin fell, white, gasping, and disoriented. Yorun looked up from his work, his golden eyes crinkling slightly. "Fool.." He whispered under his breath, finding it funny that the elf wouldn't think to partition his mana in order to stop all of it being absorbed.
The paladin shivered in his armor, his red drake mount nudging him with his nose.
You're an idiot you know. You should know to never interrupt any type of spell as great as what the elf is trying to work.
Had he any strength left, the paladin may have tried to hit the drake, but as it was all his energy was going into staying alive. The drake's piercing gaze took the paladin's eyes, and it decided something. It moved a step closer and settled down upon the cold, barren earth. It reached over and tugged the paladin, scraping his armor accross the ice, and held his body under one leg. His heat kept the cold at bay, and worked to restore the paladin to normal.
I want some mammoth tusks for this, and some shoveltusk steaks.
The paladin uttered not a word, simply glad that he wasn't dead for his act of idiocy.
Liyr felt a small amount of mana at his back, a thought, and he absorbed it. The amount was small, barely even worth taking, but every drop was necessary for what he was doing. He could feel more mana, an even larger and stronger force to his far right, but he couldn't risk leaving Sheristera to take it. So he stayed where he was, his mind constantly casting spells, drawing upon magical energies, dragging energy back from his heals in order to reuse it over and over again. Both hands started to ache as the need to grasp hold of the strong, magical items worked their effects. His bones were starting to hum, and while humming they started to crack. Super fine cracks started to line his finger bones, his knuckles became stressed more than his finger bones as they received two seperate sources of vibration, making them damage themselves faster. Should Liyr continue his endeavour, the likelyhood of his hands becoming useless, was a valid concern. The trinkets he held were magical constructs that had been created in order to function as magical storehouses. One held several week's worth of Liyr's magical power, while the other turned each one of his seperate heals into more mana.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
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Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
"How the hell is he managing this?" The huntress pet her corrupt hound beside her, running her fingers through it's silver mane. The tauren warrior offered a grin to her question.
"Liyr's always been the best at healing. I've been in groups that called him inept or even stupid, because a druid with gear much better than his could do better. But if you will see, Liyr isn't exactly wearing the best of robes. Everything he has on him would probably fit a rogue more, if they were inclined to cloth. But that just makes him all the better." The huntress scoffed.
"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into this group. And we even went up against Eregos!"
"Did you die?" She turned to offer a scathing remark, then decided to hold her tongue in check after seeing his eyes.
"No... I didn't." The tauren nodded.
"I trust him with my life. No matter how hurt I am, no matter how close I am to death, I have never died. I have come close, many, many times I have come close, but not once has Liyr let me slip from the realm of Azeroth. I have had healers leave, drop the group and run, but Liyr..." The tauren turned his gaze to the Blood Elf priest so thoroughly fixated upon healing his mount. "He's so utterly dedicated to healing, that he runs himself ragged to make sure that others are perfectly fine." He turned back to the huntress, his pale green eyes alighting upon her own vibrant green orbs. "Have you ever heard rumours of the suicidal group?"
The huntress offered a nod. "Yeah, people that go all out, don't care what they do, so long as they move forwards fast."
The warrior nodded his head in Liyr's direction. "They've left him drinking heavily of refreshing mana restoratives, moved beyond his range, yet he still got there in time to prevent their deaths. Even if he's paired up with a group full of suicides, he will do the impossible. His reaction speeds rival that of a rogue, his concentration that of a mage, and his mana pool has never been completely wasted before this moment in time."
"Then why would he be drinking?" A cold voice offered an answer to her question as the undead mage finished his workings.
"Because while he has strength, everyone suffers from mental stress. He most likely needs a moment to restore his mental energy instead of his magical." The mage finished stuffing his vials into his bags, his stiff face turning to view the huntress with a coldness that was more than a match for the freezing winds about them.
"Liyr lost his mistress during Arthas' destruction of the sunwell. Ever since, he's dedicated himself to healing in all of its forms." The tauren's facial expressions finally changed as he turned to face the mage.
"How the hell would you know that?" The undead's lips twitched slightly.
"I happen to know his mistress. Though she has removed herself from Arthas' grip, she still isn't fully aware of what she was." Yorun summoned a spark of flame, and lit his pipe. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, the smoke escaping from his robes before being dashed by the arctic winds.
"So why's that shield still up anyway? Don't his shields dissipate after a minute or so?"
"Time displacement. He's likely slowing time down in order to work upon her body faster. You know dragons are immune to magic, don't you? How hard do you think it would be to actually cast a healing spell upon a dragon and have it take root before it's body naturally dispelled or annulled the heal?"
The huntress blinked her emerald eyes. "Ionno... a few minutes?" Yorun's dark fingers came up to his face, the bones touching upon pallid flesh.
"Children who know nothing about the greater magics should not offer comment. The effect is immediate. Dragon's are heavily resistant to any type of magic are highly magical in, and of themselves, and the aspects themselves are more akin to demigods than dragons."
What he says is true. The fact that your little priest is healing a dragon is a fact of wonder. Alextraza shall hear of this before long.
The tauren turned to his dragon mount. "Coryx, I'd rather she didn't know." The dragon turned his head, tilting it slightly. "If she knew, she might think to kill him. It would take hundreds of us mortals to change a dragon in any way, yet this one mortal, on his own, is working magic that can physically change a dragon. Were he to put this ability to use in harming a dragon, the results would be disastrous, would they not?" The dragon nodded his head. "Then please, don't tell her. If you absoloutely can not do as I say, then please get her to understand, however you can, that Liyr's only thoughts are of health and life. The fact that he didn't leave his dragon should prove that much at least." Coryx nodded his head once more, and turned to watch events that would most likely shape the blood elf's history for a millenia.
Bit by bit, the hole within Sheristera's large body closed. Her heart was engulfed in energy, protecting it from the freezing winds. Her internal organs were forced to knit together where possible, or forced to regenerate new portions where not. A large portion of her liver had been removed by Eregos' paw when she'd flown too close to the red drake in order to restore his health with her dream funnel technique. Liyr forced her body to recreate the lost portion. He switched his attention to her bowels as pin pricks of waste started to leak into her body cavity. Liyr renewed Sheristera's health in that particular area, restoring the lining of her bowels, obliterating the poisons within her waste, turning the waste to energy, and repurposing it. He moved to the outside of her body, healing bruising, ruptured scales and flesh. Her horrendously punctured hide became pristine once more. He touched upon the ice under her belly, and shifted it, shaping it into a cradle. He funneled all of his magical energy into the shield still up and around Sheristera, slowing her time even more. Little by little, he withdrew his presence from Sheristera's body, slowing down her rapid cell regeneration, halting abnormal cell developement and preventing malignant growths.
Liyr slowly removed his presence from Sheristera. His awareness of her body faded, though a connection would forever be there. He had immersed himself in her body for so long, that even had he wanted to, the connection would never be severable. Liyr breathed in, and so did Sheristera. Liyr's heart beat, and so did Sheristera's. Liyr's eyes blinked, and their silver gleam became hidden for a moment.
"Riverwind, can you take the trinkets out of my hands please?" The tauren made his way over to Liyr, hoofprints being left in the snow and ice. Riverwind's large fingers moved with gentle care, prying open Liyr's cracked and bleeding fingers. Liyr made not a sound as the trinkets were moved to his bag, his hands bloody pools that dripped upon the frozen wastes. Liyr's mana flickered and wavered, the shield dropping as he no longer held the great amount needed to sustain it.
NO! DON'T! You .... wont.. what?
Sheristera righted herself, the cradle of ice crumbling about her as she moved. Liyr smiled at her, his eyes slowly losing their brilliant silver glow, and turning green once more.
"Glad to see you're alive Sheristera." The dragons bugled loudly, announcing the life that was returned among them. Sheristera's eyes twinkled, unshedable tears glittering behind lids of scaled beauty.
Glad to be alive...
"Liyr's always been the best at healing. I've been in groups that called him inept or even stupid, because a druid with gear much better than his could do better. But if you will see, Liyr isn't exactly wearing the best of robes. Everything he has on him would probably fit a rogue more, if they were inclined to cloth. But that just makes him all the better." The huntress scoffed.
"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into this group. And we even went up against Eregos!"
"Did you die?" She turned to offer a scathing remark, then decided to hold her tongue in check after seeing his eyes.
"No... I didn't." The tauren nodded.
"I trust him with my life. No matter how hurt I am, no matter how close I am to death, I have never died. I have come close, many, many times I have come close, but not once has Liyr let me slip from the realm of Azeroth. I have had healers leave, drop the group and run, but Liyr..." The tauren turned his gaze to the Blood Elf priest so thoroughly fixated upon healing his mount. "He's so utterly dedicated to healing, that he runs himself ragged to make sure that others are perfectly fine." He turned back to the huntress, his pale green eyes alighting upon her own vibrant green orbs. "Have you ever heard rumours of the suicidal group?"
The huntress offered a nod. "Yeah, people that go all out, don't care what they do, so long as they move forwards fast."
The warrior nodded his head in Liyr's direction. "They've left him drinking heavily of refreshing mana restoratives, moved beyond his range, yet he still got there in time to prevent their deaths. Even if he's paired up with a group full of suicides, he will do the impossible. His reaction speeds rival that of a rogue, his concentration that of a mage, and his mana pool has never been completely wasted before this moment in time."
"Then why would he be drinking?" A cold voice offered an answer to her question as the undead mage finished his workings.
"Because while he has strength, everyone suffers from mental stress. He most likely needs a moment to restore his mental energy instead of his magical." The mage finished stuffing his vials into his bags, his stiff face turning to view the huntress with a coldness that was more than a match for the freezing winds about them.
"Liyr lost his mistress during Arthas' destruction of the sunwell. Ever since, he's dedicated himself to healing in all of its forms." The tauren's facial expressions finally changed as he turned to face the mage.
"How the hell would you know that?" The undead's lips twitched slightly.
"I happen to know his mistress. Though she has removed herself from Arthas' grip, she still isn't fully aware of what she was." Yorun summoned a spark of flame, and lit his pipe. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, the smoke escaping from his robes before being dashed by the arctic winds.
"So why's that shield still up anyway? Don't his shields dissipate after a minute or so?"
"Time displacement. He's likely slowing time down in order to work upon her body faster. You know dragons are immune to magic, don't you? How hard do you think it would be to actually cast a healing spell upon a dragon and have it take root before it's body naturally dispelled or annulled the heal?"
The huntress blinked her emerald eyes. "Ionno... a few minutes?" Yorun's dark fingers came up to his face, the bones touching upon pallid flesh.
"Children who know nothing about the greater magics should not offer comment. The effect is immediate. Dragon's are heavily resistant to any type of magic are highly magical in, and of themselves, and the aspects themselves are more akin to demigods than dragons."
What he says is true. The fact that your little priest is healing a dragon is a fact of wonder. Alextraza shall hear of this before long.
The tauren turned to his dragon mount. "Coryx, I'd rather she didn't know." The dragon turned his head, tilting it slightly. "If she knew, she might think to kill him. It would take hundreds of us mortals to change a dragon in any way, yet this one mortal, on his own, is working magic that can physically change a dragon. Were he to put this ability to use in harming a dragon, the results would be disastrous, would they not?" The dragon nodded his head. "Then please, don't tell her. If you absoloutely can not do as I say, then please get her to understand, however you can, that Liyr's only thoughts are of health and life. The fact that he didn't leave his dragon should prove that much at least." Coryx nodded his head once more, and turned to watch events that would most likely shape the blood elf's history for a millenia.
Bit by bit, the hole within Sheristera's large body closed. Her heart was engulfed in energy, protecting it from the freezing winds. Her internal organs were forced to knit together where possible, or forced to regenerate new portions where not. A large portion of her liver had been removed by Eregos' paw when she'd flown too close to the red drake in order to restore his health with her dream funnel technique. Liyr forced her body to recreate the lost portion. He switched his attention to her bowels as pin pricks of waste started to leak into her body cavity. Liyr renewed Sheristera's health in that particular area, restoring the lining of her bowels, obliterating the poisons within her waste, turning the waste to energy, and repurposing it. He moved to the outside of her body, healing bruising, ruptured scales and flesh. Her horrendously punctured hide became pristine once more. He touched upon the ice under her belly, and shifted it, shaping it into a cradle. He funneled all of his magical energy into the shield still up and around Sheristera, slowing her time even more. Little by little, he withdrew his presence from Sheristera's body, slowing down her rapid cell regeneration, halting abnormal cell developement and preventing malignant growths.
Liyr slowly removed his presence from Sheristera. His awareness of her body faded, though a connection would forever be there. He had immersed himself in her body for so long, that even had he wanted to, the connection would never be severable. Liyr breathed in, and so did Sheristera. Liyr's heart beat, and so did Sheristera's. Liyr's eyes blinked, and their silver gleam became hidden for a moment.
"Riverwind, can you take the trinkets out of my hands please?" The tauren made his way over to Liyr, hoofprints being left in the snow and ice. Riverwind's large fingers moved with gentle care, prying open Liyr's cracked and bleeding fingers. Liyr made not a sound as the trinkets were moved to his bag, his hands bloody pools that dripped upon the frozen wastes. Liyr's mana flickered and wavered, the shield dropping as he no longer held the great amount needed to sustain it.
NO! DON'T! You .... wont.. what?
Sheristera righted herself, the cradle of ice crumbling about her as she moved. Liyr smiled at her, his eyes slowly losing their brilliant silver glow, and turning green once more.
"Glad to see you're alive Sheristera." The dragons bugled loudly, announcing the life that was returned among them. Sheristera's eyes twinkled, unshedable tears glittering behind lids of scaled beauty.
Glad to be alive...
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
Ryun - Siiiree 1
Fishing. It was calming, relaxing, and boring. There were faster ways to fish, nets, explosives, but nothing beat the relaxation of a rod and line. Catch, release, cast. Catch, release, cast. Fishing did not have to be about food, but it also didn't need to be about waste.
The blood elf breathed deeply, calming his mind, removing the darkness of bloodlust and battle rage. The shoal of blackmouth fish he was fishing from, were lured by his bait. They experienced little pain, as he caught and released all of them. A little pain, for a lot of food.
Ripples in the water, and the shoal scattered. The blood elf watched the ripples calmly. No matter what beast it could be, he was more than a match for it, though it didn't stop them from trying for him. The ripples moved closer to the lure in the water, then sank. He waited, hands gentle upon the shaft of the fishing rod, fingertips alligned against the fishing line, waiting for the gentlest of tugs.
He almost had the entire rod yanked out of his grasp! He stood, planted his feet, and hauled upon the rod, bending it in two, the creature with the lure fighting him for all it was worth. His muscles rippled and surged as he exerted more force, the rod's tip almost kissing its base as he slowly pulled the thing from the water. If it weren't for the fact he was on a gently sloping sand bank, he would've sworn a hydra or even a thresher had taken his lure.
One more yank, and a small little body was launched from the water. The blood elf watched it arc upwards, tail lashing as four arms waved and slashed. A glint of metal in its tiny face brought the blood elf's eyes to its glowing golden orbs.
Naga.
The bow was up and strung before the naga child had even fallen from the crescent of its launch, a cruel barb arrow nocked and waiting, eagle eyes tracking her descent. Even with the suddeness of everything, he could tell it was female. Only the females held four arms, the greater spell casting it allowed them created healers and mages of remarkable strength.
The arrow was shot, burrying itself into the sand dunes, not even its feathered tail poking out. In three quick steps, he'd dropped his bow, and held out his hand to catch the child. Sharp claws and tiny needle sharp teeth immediately bit into his fingers and hand. Cussing, he grasped the back of its body with his left hand, careful not to crush it in his grip. He pulled it from his bloody right hand, examining the damage it had managed to cause in the few brief seconds it had been allowed.
He cussed again as a large chunk of flesh from the back of his hand was missing. He went to his back pack, back at the beginning of the beach, and removed a freezing trap from his bags. He set it, waited a few seconds, then dropped the struggling naga child onto it. Immediately it was coated in thick ice, frozen in time and place for a few minutes. Sighing, he went back to his bags, searching through his items.
A heallth potion and emberweave bandage later, he looked over his hand's new appearance. The crimson colour of the bandage almost matched the colour of the healing potion he'd used, and it certainly matched the colour of his blood. The gentle heat of the bandage also helped to prevent frostbite in northrend's harsh climates, but in azeroth, specificly kalimdor, it was moot. His hands rummaged within his bags again, touching against a frostweave bag, the chill of the bag permeating his entire backpack, keeping his back cool even in the heat of summer. Opening it, he removed a few bore chunks he'd kept from a dire boar that had decided to attack him. A few sticks, a few arrows for the bore chunks, and he was set.
One goblin igniter later, and a small fire was growing within the chunks of bore meat on their arrow spits. His eyes darted to the naga child in her block of ice, and he went to her. He took out a dagger, placed the tip at the top of the ice tomb, and smashed the hilt with his fist. The dagger burried itself within the ice, and shattered it into large chunks. The naga child fell, barely breathing as her eyes finally closed with unconsciousness. He hefted the light child, and placed her near the fire, but not close enough to be burnt by the heat in her unconscious state. He made sure three of the boar chunk spits were closest to her, then sat back, turning the spits as they needed it.
>>>>>>>>>>
Fishing. It was calming, relaxing, and boring. There were faster ways to fish, nets, explosives, but nothing beat the relaxation of a rod and line. Catch, release, cast. Catch, release, cast. Fishing did not have to be about food, but it also didn't need to be about waste.
The blood elf breathed deeply, calming his mind, removing the darkness of bloodlust and battle rage. The shoal of blackmouth fish he was fishing from, were lured by his bait. They experienced little pain, as he caught and released all of them. A little pain, for a lot of food.
Ripples in the water, and the shoal scattered. The blood elf watched the ripples calmly. No matter what beast it could be, he was more than a match for it, though it didn't stop them from trying for him. The ripples moved closer to the lure in the water, then sank. He waited, hands gentle upon the shaft of the fishing rod, fingertips alligned against the fishing line, waiting for the gentlest of tugs.
He almost had the entire rod yanked out of his grasp! He stood, planted his feet, and hauled upon the rod, bending it in two, the creature with the lure fighting him for all it was worth. His muscles rippled and surged as he exerted more force, the rod's tip almost kissing its base as he slowly pulled the thing from the water. If it weren't for the fact he was on a gently sloping sand bank, he would've sworn a hydra or even a thresher had taken his lure.
One more yank, and a small little body was launched from the water. The blood elf watched it arc upwards, tail lashing as four arms waved and slashed. A glint of metal in its tiny face brought the blood elf's eyes to its glowing golden orbs.
Naga.
The bow was up and strung before the naga child had even fallen from the crescent of its launch, a cruel barb arrow nocked and waiting, eagle eyes tracking her descent. Even with the suddeness of everything, he could tell it was female. Only the females held four arms, the greater spell casting it allowed them created healers and mages of remarkable strength.
The arrow was shot, burrying itself into the sand dunes, not even its feathered tail poking out. In three quick steps, he'd dropped his bow, and held out his hand to catch the child. Sharp claws and tiny needle sharp teeth immediately bit into his fingers and hand. Cussing, he grasped the back of its body with his left hand, careful not to crush it in his grip. He pulled it from his bloody right hand, examining the damage it had managed to cause in the few brief seconds it had been allowed.
He cussed again as a large chunk of flesh from the back of his hand was missing. He went to his back pack, back at the beginning of the beach, and removed a freezing trap from his bags. He set it, waited a few seconds, then dropped the struggling naga child onto it. Immediately it was coated in thick ice, frozen in time and place for a few minutes. Sighing, he went back to his bags, searching through his items.
A heallth potion and emberweave bandage later, he looked over his hand's new appearance. The crimson colour of the bandage almost matched the colour of the healing potion he'd used, and it certainly matched the colour of his blood. The gentle heat of the bandage also helped to prevent frostbite in northrend's harsh climates, but in azeroth, specificly kalimdor, it was moot. His hands rummaged within his bags again, touching against a frostweave bag, the chill of the bag permeating his entire backpack, keeping his back cool even in the heat of summer. Opening it, he removed a few bore chunks he'd kept from a dire boar that had decided to attack him. A few sticks, a few arrows for the bore chunks, and he was set.
One goblin igniter later, and a small fire was growing within the chunks of bore meat on their arrow spits. His eyes darted to the naga child in her block of ice, and he went to her. He took out a dagger, placed the tip at the top of the ice tomb, and smashed the hilt with his fist. The dagger burried itself within the ice, and shattered it into large chunks. The naga child fell, barely breathing as her eyes finally closed with unconsciousness. He hefted the light child, and placed her near the fire, but not close enough to be burnt by the heat in her unconscious state. He made sure three of the boar chunk spits were closest to her, then sat back, turning the spits as they needed it.
>>>>>>>>>>
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
It wasn't too long before the naga child woke again. Its golden eyes first saw the fire, then the meat as she reared backwards upon her tail. Her eyes moved around her, then spotted the blood elf on the other side of the fire. Her reactions weren't exactly natural when seeing a creature that wasn't another naga. She held still, small eyes studying his body. The tip of her tail waved back and forth behind her as she sat still, studying the blood elf over the flames, untill her eyes were diverted to the meat roasting by the fire, her small stomach growling.
"Eat."
She hissed at his word, his order, his request. She tumbled over herself, falling backwards as he stood, slowly walking towards her. He reached down and she launched herself at him, only to be caught within a warm cloth covered hand. The other hand picked up the arrow spit, and brought it to her face.
"Eat."
He repeated himself, clear emerald eyes staring into her golden orbs, demanding, requesting. She hissed at him, cursing him in her serpentine laguage. Her long tail wrapped around his forearm, trying to strangle it as she tried to tear at the cloth covering his hand. The arrow spit was rubbed against her face, the juices of the freshly cooked boar meat distracting her from trying to attack. Her small hands moved to yank the arrow from his hand, and she was reprimanded with a light squeeze to her body. She screeched and thrashed, trying to get free.
"Gently. Do not grab, snatch, or yank. Gently take it. You're a lady, you should have more manners than this."
She swore at him in the serpent tongue, and was shocked as the demand was repeated, in her own tongue. Golden eyes looked up into emerald eyes, her struggles quieting to an occasional twitch. Four arms reached upwards, taking hold of the arrow shaft, and held it. The blood elf let go, and she was given the arrow shaft with its boar meat.
He stayed there, eventually sitting back down as the naga child showed no indication of wanting to release her grip upon his forearm. She ate daintly, eyes watching his every move while she ate. Her eyes widened, and she looked to her left, moments before a large dire boar topped the sand dune, and charged. Her eyes turned to the blood elf, just in time to barely catch the almost casual toss of the dagger, with his left hand, over the arm holding her up. She looked back to the boar, to see the dagger burried to its jeweled hilt in the boar's skull. It dropped and rolled, tumbling down the dune to fall to rest before them.
The blood elf got up and walked to the boar, placed his foot against the boar's neck, and pulled his dagger back out, wiping the blade against the boar's flank. With his left hand he placed the dagger back in its sheath, walking back to the fire and his bags, seating himself again.
He watched her eat, and she watched him watch her eat. Not a word was said, but the child was starting to think. Another spit was presented to her as she finished the first, and she took it, eating without having to be asked. The arrow was tossed into the fire, giving it fuel for a few more minutes. The blood elf grabbed a spit, eating as the naga child showed no indication of fleeing or fighting.
Four spits later, and the naga child was well gorged, while the blood elf was merely fed. Her small belly was enlarged to gigantic proportions, more than likely to help them keep food longer. She finally released her grip upon his forearm, and he lowered her to the sand. She promptly snaked her way over to him, and nestled herself upon his lap, getting ready to sleep.
"Name?"
She hissed slowly, the name being drawn out.
"Siiireerulrahya?"
A head movement as she settled down, her belly working to digest her food.
"I'm Ryun. Sleep well little princess."
The naga child nodded into his leather clad thigh, small hands touching against the soft, pliable leather.
Ryun sat for a moment longer, then carefully moved the child to the sand, standing up. He pulled his bag closer to the naga child, positioning it so the afternoon sunlight was kept off of her body. He grabbed his bow, made sure his quiver was set, and removed a pouch from his backpack. He walked silently away from the naga child, untill she and the fire were a hundred metres away.
"Meera, Sareena, Lazerus."
Shadows blinked into existence, then formed bodies. A dark, beautiful storm saber mount stepped forwards, followed by a dusky gryphon and a black wolf mount. A smile whispered accross his face as he lifted his bandaged hand to Sareena's beak, wiping his thumb against the line of her mouth, and ruffling the feathers on her cheek.
Meera and Lazerus, his storm saber and wolf mounts, grumbled untill he pet them as well.
"Meera, Lazerus, back the way I came you will find my camp, and a naga child."
Ryun cuffed the back of Lazerus' head as he growled.
"No, you will guard her, both of you. Sareena, I need your assistance. She's from a naga village, and I'd like to return her to them. If you would carry me upon your ebony wings, I would be most grateful."
The dusky gryphon nodded, bending a fore leg down so he could mount her. Carefully, Ryun hopped up upon her back, keeping his feet clear of her wings and legs. With a gesture, his other two mounts trotted back to the camp, to guard the naga child. Sareena crouched upon the sand, and spread her wings wide, before leaping and flapping hard. A few more wing beats, and she was high enough to start flying, the heat of the land helping to keep her and her rider aloft.
They moved along the coastline, both using eagle eyes to spot any naga nearby. Ryun spotted the smoke first, and directed Sareena towards it with gentle nudgings of his legs. A couple minutes, and they circled above the decimated naga village.
"Stay here, keep out of range untill I call."
Ryun leapt from Sareena's back, and hurtled towards the ground. Seconds before he would've smacked into the ground, he activated his flexweave underlay for his cloak, and parachuted, touching the sandy soil with leather boots. He hissed in the snake tongue, asking if anyone was alive. A voice whispered from a burnt out shell of a cloth hut, and he hurried to it.
A burnt thresher rib caved in, and he brought his muscles to bear, shoving the rib away. Glass crackled under his feet, and then he smelt fish and human flesh. He whispered again in the snake tongue, and the burnt husk moved, hissing in the same language. Ryun swallowed, eyes roaming accross the burnt flesh and scales of the naga male, his head nothing but a charred mess. The bones of his massive tail were poking out of the charred mess that was left of it, and Ryun was amazed that it was still alive. The place was raided a couple days ago, given the signs.
"I'm sorry, all I can do is give you a painless death, but before I do it, I need some answers. A while ago I found a naga child, her name is Siiireerulrahya, is she from this camp?"
A hissed answer in the negative, and Ryun was at a loss. Where was the child from? Which clan had she come from? Was she an orphan, or did she have a family somewhere?
"Who decimated the camp? What race?"
A hissing reply, orcs, humans, and trolls. Little smelly things they had never seen before that chuckled and laughed all the time. They had come in during the night, killing the guards that watched during the night, and setting fire to everything while everyone slept. None had survived but him.
Ryun bowed his head, burrying his sorrow deep down within himself. Reaching into the small bag he had brought with him, he took out a beautifully crafted dagger of diamond, cut from one large chunk that had been dragged from deep, deep below the earth with Deathwing's arrival. It shimmered as it was brought closer to the naga male, a silver-white glow starting to seep from the handle.
"May Elune welcome you with open arms brother, for I send you to her now. Know that the child will be cared for untill I find her clan or parents, and the butcherers of this camp shall be hunted down and slaughtered like jackals."
The naga male hissed gratitude, before the crystal blade pierced his skull, light exploding from the contact as the naga male was turned into pure energy, being sent directly to Elune's realm. Ryun knelt there for a time longer, his grip upon the diamond dagger's hilt tight enough to turn his knuckles bone white. He put the dagger back in the bag, eyes dark. His entire body trembled, an almost imperceptible shiver.
>>>>>>>>>>>
"Eat."
She hissed at his word, his order, his request. She tumbled over herself, falling backwards as he stood, slowly walking towards her. He reached down and she launched herself at him, only to be caught within a warm cloth covered hand. The other hand picked up the arrow spit, and brought it to her face.
"Eat."
He repeated himself, clear emerald eyes staring into her golden orbs, demanding, requesting. She hissed at him, cursing him in her serpentine laguage. Her long tail wrapped around his forearm, trying to strangle it as she tried to tear at the cloth covering his hand. The arrow spit was rubbed against her face, the juices of the freshly cooked boar meat distracting her from trying to attack. Her small hands moved to yank the arrow from his hand, and she was reprimanded with a light squeeze to her body. She screeched and thrashed, trying to get free.
"Gently. Do not grab, snatch, or yank. Gently take it. You're a lady, you should have more manners than this."
She swore at him in the serpent tongue, and was shocked as the demand was repeated, in her own tongue. Golden eyes looked up into emerald eyes, her struggles quieting to an occasional twitch. Four arms reached upwards, taking hold of the arrow shaft, and held it. The blood elf let go, and she was given the arrow shaft with its boar meat.
He stayed there, eventually sitting back down as the naga child showed no indication of wanting to release her grip upon his forearm. She ate daintly, eyes watching his every move while she ate. Her eyes widened, and she looked to her left, moments before a large dire boar topped the sand dune, and charged. Her eyes turned to the blood elf, just in time to barely catch the almost casual toss of the dagger, with his left hand, over the arm holding her up. She looked back to the boar, to see the dagger burried to its jeweled hilt in the boar's skull. It dropped and rolled, tumbling down the dune to fall to rest before them.
The blood elf got up and walked to the boar, placed his foot against the boar's neck, and pulled his dagger back out, wiping the blade against the boar's flank. With his left hand he placed the dagger back in its sheath, walking back to the fire and his bags, seating himself again.
He watched her eat, and she watched him watch her eat. Not a word was said, but the child was starting to think. Another spit was presented to her as she finished the first, and she took it, eating without having to be asked. The arrow was tossed into the fire, giving it fuel for a few more minutes. The blood elf grabbed a spit, eating as the naga child showed no indication of fleeing or fighting.
Four spits later, and the naga child was well gorged, while the blood elf was merely fed. Her small belly was enlarged to gigantic proportions, more than likely to help them keep food longer. She finally released her grip upon his forearm, and he lowered her to the sand. She promptly snaked her way over to him, and nestled herself upon his lap, getting ready to sleep.
"Name?"
She hissed slowly, the name being drawn out.
"Siiireerulrahya?"
A head movement as she settled down, her belly working to digest her food.
"I'm Ryun. Sleep well little princess."
The naga child nodded into his leather clad thigh, small hands touching against the soft, pliable leather.
Ryun sat for a moment longer, then carefully moved the child to the sand, standing up. He pulled his bag closer to the naga child, positioning it so the afternoon sunlight was kept off of her body. He grabbed his bow, made sure his quiver was set, and removed a pouch from his backpack. He walked silently away from the naga child, untill she and the fire were a hundred metres away.
"Meera, Sareena, Lazerus."
Shadows blinked into existence, then formed bodies. A dark, beautiful storm saber mount stepped forwards, followed by a dusky gryphon and a black wolf mount. A smile whispered accross his face as he lifted his bandaged hand to Sareena's beak, wiping his thumb against the line of her mouth, and ruffling the feathers on her cheek.
Meera and Lazerus, his storm saber and wolf mounts, grumbled untill he pet them as well.
"Meera, Lazerus, back the way I came you will find my camp, and a naga child."
Ryun cuffed the back of Lazerus' head as he growled.
"No, you will guard her, both of you. Sareena, I need your assistance. She's from a naga village, and I'd like to return her to them. If you would carry me upon your ebony wings, I would be most grateful."
The dusky gryphon nodded, bending a fore leg down so he could mount her. Carefully, Ryun hopped up upon her back, keeping his feet clear of her wings and legs. With a gesture, his other two mounts trotted back to the camp, to guard the naga child. Sareena crouched upon the sand, and spread her wings wide, before leaping and flapping hard. A few more wing beats, and she was high enough to start flying, the heat of the land helping to keep her and her rider aloft.
They moved along the coastline, both using eagle eyes to spot any naga nearby. Ryun spotted the smoke first, and directed Sareena towards it with gentle nudgings of his legs. A couple minutes, and they circled above the decimated naga village.
"Stay here, keep out of range untill I call."
Ryun leapt from Sareena's back, and hurtled towards the ground. Seconds before he would've smacked into the ground, he activated his flexweave underlay for his cloak, and parachuted, touching the sandy soil with leather boots. He hissed in the snake tongue, asking if anyone was alive. A voice whispered from a burnt out shell of a cloth hut, and he hurried to it.
A burnt thresher rib caved in, and he brought his muscles to bear, shoving the rib away. Glass crackled under his feet, and then he smelt fish and human flesh. He whispered again in the snake tongue, and the burnt husk moved, hissing in the same language. Ryun swallowed, eyes roaming accross the burnt flesh and scales of the naga male, his head nothing but a charred mess. The bones of his massive tail were poking out of the charred mess that was left of it, and Ryun was amazed that it was still alive. The place was raided a couple days ago, given the signs.
"I'm sorry, all I can do is give you a painless death, but before I do it, I need some answers. A while ago I found a naga child, her name is Siiireerulrahya, is she from this camp?"
A hissed answer in the negative, and Ryun was at a loss. Where was the child from? Which clan had she come from? Was she an orphan, or did she have a family somewhere?
"Who decimated the camp? What race?"
A hissing reply, orcs, humans, and trolls. Little smelly things they had never seen before that chuckled and laughed all the time. They had come in during the night, killing the guards that watched during the night, and setting fire to everything while everyone slept. None had survived but him.
Ryun bowed his head, burrying his sorrow deep down within himself. Reaching into the small bag he had brought with him, he took out a beautifully crafted dagger of diamond, cut from one large chunk that had been dragged from deep, deep below the earth with Deathwing's arrival. It shimmered as it was brought closer to the naga male, a silver-white glow starting to seep from the handle.
"May Elune welcome you with open arms brother, for I send you to her now. Know that the child will be cared for untill I find her clan or parents, and the butcherers of this camp shall be hunted down and slaughtered like jackals."
The naga male hissed gratitude, before the crystal blade pierced his skull, light exploding from the contact as the naga male was turned into pure energy, being sent directly to Elune's realm. Ryun knelt there for a time longer, his grip upon the diamond dagger's hilt tight enough to turn his knuckles bone white. He put the dagger back in the bag, eyes dark. His entire body trembled, an almost imperceptible shiver.
>>>>>>>>>>>
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
He stood, and scoured the camp, looking for any other "survivors" from the massacre. He found nothing but grisly remains. He said prayers over the bodies, knowing that even with their divergences from the ancient race, they all were guided by Elune. He left the burnt wreckage, and got enough of a distance that Sareena could land without causing her to be scarred by the bodies that remained. He raised his hand, high, and whistled shrilly.
A tiny dot high above, turned into a large dot, that steadily grew into the size of a gryphon as Sareena banked, flared her wings, and flapped swiftly, landing just behind Ryun, turning and trotting towards him. She ducked her head down towards him, her eyes apprehensive with his tightly bound rage.
"Three days travel from here, on foot, there's a group of humans, orcs, trolls, and gnolls. They'll be laughing and joking, most likely with spoils they've taken from this encampment. The naga here were peaceful, they didn't kill, they protected themselves, and foraged food from nearby. We need to find them before we return."
The gryphon nodded her dark head, her late afternoon orange coloured feathers of her belly shivered with her master's leashed rage. Ryun leapt upon her back, and Sareena took off running, flapping her wings before taking off, getting higher and higher as she furiously flapped for height. The both of them became nothing but a tiny, tiny speck against the bright blue skies of azeroth.
It only took them an hour to find the group. Ryun directed Sareena into a steep dive, the hot durotar air combing her feathers and his hair. Seconds before impact, Ryun braced himself as Sareena banked and flared her wings, flapping hard to come in for a soft landing.
The company had bows ready in an instant, the few mages with them had hands glowing with frost and fire alligned spells. Gnolls cackled in their midst while the other humanoids remained silent.
"Are you the ones that massacred the naga encampment a few days journey north?"
A human stepped forth, rubbing his scraggly beard.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I was told to take out the encampment, someone got to it before I did, I just wanted to know who to send half the reward to."
They discussed amongst themselves in low voices, a decision being made.
"Yeah, we wiped them out, about three days ago. Was quick and easy work, and we got enough supplies to last us a few weeks."
"Do you have any proof? Trophies, jewelery, ornaments? Anything that's not burnt to prove you were there?"
More grumbles, untill a cackling gnoll held up a pearl necklace and some scallop ornaments carved with the clan's glyph. Ryun nodded.
"If you'll make camp here, I'll fly back to orgrimmar and get the reward. I shall return in a couple of hours at the most."
The men cheered as he turned Sareena around, and set about making camp for the night. Sareena took off with a running start, and quickly became nothing but a speck in the distance. Ryun's fury reached its peak, and Sareena shuddered, losing altitude before Ryun calmed himself enough for her to regain controll of her terror.
"Circle back around, we're bombing them."
Sareena banked immediately, circling back around as Ryun readied saronite bombs. He tightened the grip of his legs around her middle and got ready for the slaughter. They came back around to the encampment swiftly and Ryun started tossing bombs with incredible accuracy. First he tossed them to the camp's edges, the bombs blowing everything inwards as they made contact with the sand. Then he threw bombs towards the middle, blowing all those that had survived the innitial blasts to pieces. Twenty saronite bombs were dropped in all upon the buccaneers, the lowlife trash not even having enough time for healers to help them as the bombs killed them off first.
Ryun's rage slowly abated as he turned Sareena north, and headed back to his camp.
Siiireerulrahya woke to dusk closing accross the lands. Her hands went to her belly that was slowly losing its bloated size. She looked around, wondering where the blood elf was, and found him at the water, washing himself and his clothes. She slithered down the sand, hit the water, and turned into a bullet. She launched herself from the water, arms outspread to catch him unawares, and stared in shock as daggers came at her, Ryun's eyes full of murderous rage.
The daggers were dropped and he caught her, hugging her shaking and shivering body to his, apologising for his rudeness. Expert fingers traced her back down to the tip of her tail as he whispered apologies to her.
She wept in his embrace, scared, and thankful at the same time. She had just found out, that had he meant it, her death was a surety. She wrapped her tail around his forearm, and cried while he shushed and comforted her as best he could, his clothes washed downstream and forgotten.
They stayed like that for a half an hour, long enough for the sun to go below the horizon, and last light to follow it. Finally she settled down long enough for him to pick up his daggers, and move back to his bags. A naga child on his right arm, he opened his bags with his left hand, searching for some linen breeches. Finding a pair, he pulled them out, and stepped into them carefully, keeping the sand on his feet from contacting the sides of the cloth. He frowned at a blue hand sliding under the hem of the breeches, and pulled the child away, hissing denials at her. She held her hands to herself, and watched what he did as her eyes dried.
Walking towards the treeline, Ryun gathered some sticks and branches as he walked towards the cliffs surrounding the den and the valley of trials. He found a hollow in the rockface, and set the sticks and branches down, scanned the riverbank, and checked the depth of the hollow, finding it to be only a few metres deep, and a metre wide. More than big enough.
He trotted back to his back pack, picked it up, dusting the sand off of it, and headed back to the hollow, Siiireerulrahya gazing up at him, and around the entire time. He gathered a few more sticks and branches on his way back to the hollow, dumping them by the other sticks.
"Siiireerulrahya, please get down and head to the back of the cave. I don't want you near the front."
The little naga released his arm and slithered to the back of the cave, golden eyes looking at him from the darkness. He set his bag down and looked for his goblin igniter, pulling the little mechanism from his bag. He moved some sticks to the side of the cave, right by the entrance, and lit them with the tiny fireball from the igniter. He fed the small fire with sticks, eventually feeding it two branches.
Sighing, Ryun sat back, watching the fire and wondering what in Elune's name he was doing. A slight sound, and the little naga was beside him, her four arms touching the hem of his pants, then his skin. Had she never seen humanoids without clothing before?
He warned her away from her touchings with gentle hisses, then moved like lightning, snatching her away from his bags as she slithered towards them.
"Dangerous, very, very dangerous."
He set her down again, and took the time to look her over once more. Unlike the normal colourings of the females of her race, her belly scales were the colour of old blood, her human skin pigment was a light pink. She had golden eyes where most naga had silver, and her crown fin was a deep and rich pink/purple colour. Besides that, she wore no clothing of any type, and was literally naked. Her chest housed two tiny little buttons that would likely become sizeable breasts with time. Near the edge of the line seperating her human like skin from her serpent scales, was a tiny little discolouration in a vertical line, likely her immature genital slit.
An idea struck him, and Ryun got up to search his bags. With all the digging he'd been doing accross the globe, he'd found a few curious little toys. He pulled out an ancient night elven music box, along with a little mechanical gnome toy. Ryun gave the little mechanical toy to her, only to have her hiss, and raise up on her tail tip, trying to seem larger than the mechanical toy that was puttering about. Ryun frowned, and put the toy away, and removed another toy, a doll. A very, very, precious doll.
It took all of three seconds for him to decide to give it to her. With a small smile, Ryun offered Tyrande Whisperwind's doll to her. Siiireerulrahya jumped upon it, hugging the doll to her, the thing almost her height. Grinning, he kept the other item behind him as he picked up his back pack, and moved it to the back of the hollow. He moved to the front, stoking the fire for the night, then moved back into the hollow. Carefully, Ryun wound up the little contraption, set it down, then opened the top.
Soft, tinkling, chiming sounds eased from the little music box. Though it had been intended for one named Theleste, when he'd found it, the little winding mechanism had been broken. A bit of tinkering, a fresh bronze winding key later, and it was almost like it wasn't thousands of years old. He smiled as the naga child slithered to him, nestling between him and the bag, listening to the small clear notes, watching the elf and cat dance and play within the box.
Ryun's hand moved of it's own accord, bringing the child to his lap as he lay back upon the cold stone.
"Sleep Siiireerulrahya, tomorrow is a new day. I'm taking you to orgrimmar to get you some clothes, then to dalaran. There is a naga there that is friendly with the mages, he should be able to place you in your correct home."
The child slept near him, occasionally clutching his leg and waking, making sure he was still with her, before she finally settled into a deep sleep.
Ryun watched the fire, tossing branches to it during the night, before he too, lost himself to the dark reach of slumber.
A tiny dot high above, turned into a large dot, that steadily grew into the size of a gryphon as Sareena banked, flared her wings, and flapped swiftly, landing just behind Ryun, turning and trotting towards him. She ducked her head down towards him, her eyes apprehensive with his tightly bound rage.
"Three days travel from here, on foot, there's a group of humans, orcs, trolls, and gnolls. They'll be laughing and joking, most likely with spoils they've taken from this encampment. The naga here were peaceful, they didn't kill, they protected themselves, and foraged food from nearby. We need to find them before we return."
The gryphon nodded her dark head, her late afternoon orange coloured feathers of her belly shivered with her master's leashed rage. Ryun leapt upon her back, and Sareena took off running, flapping her wings before taking off, getting higher and higher as she furiously flapped for height. The both of them became nothing but a tiny, tiny speck against the bright blue skies of azeroth.
It only took them an hour to find the group. Ryun directed Sareena into a steep dive, the hot durotar air combing her feathers and his hair. Seconds before impact, Ryun braced himself as Sareena banked and flared her wings, flapping hard to come in for a soft landing.
The company had bows ready in an instant, the few mages with them had hands glowing with frost and fire alligned spells. Gnolls cackled in their midst while the other humanoids remained silent.
"Are you the ones that massacred the naga encampment a few days journey north?"
A human stepped forth, rubbing his scraggly beard.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I was told to take out the encampment, someone got to it before I did, I just wanted to know who to send half the reward to."
They discussed amongst themselves in low voices, a decision being made.
"Yeah, we wiped them out, about three days ago. Was quick and easy work, and we got enough supplies to last us a few weeks."
"Do you have any proof? Trophies, jewelery, ornaments? Anything that's not burnt to prove you were there?"
More grumbles, untill a cackling gnoll held up a pearl necklace and some scallop ornaments carved with the clan's glyph. Ryun nodded.
"If you'll make camp here, I'll fly back to orgrimmar and get the reward. I shall return in a couple of hours at the most."
The men cheered as he turned Sareena around, and set about making camp for the night. Sareena took off with a running start, and quickly became nothing but a speck in the distance. Ryun's fury reached its peak, and Sareena shuddered, losing altitude before Ryun calmed himself enough for her to regain controll of her terror.
"Circle back around, we're bombing them."
Sareena banked immediately, circling back around as Ryun readied saronite bombs. He tightened the grip of his legs around her middle and got ready for the slaughter. They came back around to the encampment swiftly and Ryun started tossing bombs with incredible accuracy. First he tossed them to the camp's edges, the bombs blowing everything inwards as they made contact with the sand. Then he threw bombs towards the middle, blowing all those that had survived the innitial blasts to pieces. Twenty saronite bombs were dropped in all upon the buccaneers, the lowlife trash not even having enough time for healers to help them as the bombs killed them off first.
Ryun's rage slowly abated as he turned Sareena north, and headed back to his camp.
Siiireerulrahya woke to dusk closing accross the lands. Her hands went to her belly that was slowly losing its bloated size. She looked around, wondering where the blood elf was, and found him at the water, washing himself and his clothes. She slithered down the sand, hit the water, and turned into a bullet. She launched herself from the water, arms outspread to catch him unawares, and stared in shock as daggers came at her, Ryun's eyes full of murderous rage.
The daggers were dropped and he caught her, hugging her shaking and shivering body to his, apologising for his rudeness. Expert fingers traced her back down to the tip of her tail as he whispered apologies to her.
She wept in his embrace, scared, and thankful at the same time. She had just found out, that had he meant it, her death was a surety. She wrapped her tail around his forearm, and cried while he shushed and comforted her as best he could, his clothes washed downstream and forgotten.
They stayed like that for a half an hour, long enough for the sun to go below the horizon, and last light to follow it. Finally she settled down long enough for him to pick up his daggers, and move back to his bags. A naga child on his right arm, he opened his bags with his left hand, searching for some linen breeches. Finding a pair, he pulled them out, and stepped into them carefully, keeping the sand on his feet from contacting the sides of the cloth. He frowned at a blue hand sliding under the hem of the breeches, and pulled the child away, hissing denials at her. She held her hands to herself, and watched what he did as her eyes dried.
Walking towards the treeline, Ryun gathered some sticks and branches as he walked towards the cliffs surrounding the den and the valley of trials. He found a hollow in the rockface, and set the sticks and branches down, scanned the riverbank, and checked the depth of the hollow, finding it to be only a few metres deep, and a metre wide. More than big enough.
He trotted back to his back pack, picked it up, dusting the sand off of it, and headed back to the hollow, Siiireerulrahya gazing up at him, and around the entire time. He gathered a few more sticks and branches on his way back to the hollow, dumping them by the other sticks.
"Siiireerulrahya, please get down and head to the back of the cave. I don't want you near the front."
The little naga released his arm and slithered to the back of the cave, golden eyes looking at him from the darkness. He set his bag down and looked for his goblin igniter, pulling the little mechanism from his bag. He moved some sticks to the side of the cave, right by the entrance, and lit them with the tiny fireball from the igniter. He fed the small fire with sticks, eventually feeding it two branches.
Sighing, Ryun sat back, watching the fire and wondering what in Elune's name he was doing. A slight sound, and the little naga was beside him, her four arms touching the hem of his pants, then his skin. Had she never seen humanoids without clothing before?
He warned her away from her touchings with gentle hisses, then moved like lightning, snatching her away from his bags as she slithered towards them.
"Dangerous, very, very dangerous."
He set her down again, and took the time to look her over once more. Unlike the normal colourings of the females of her race, her belly scales were the colour of old blood, her human skin pigment was a light pink. She had golden eyes where most naga had silver, and her crown fin was a deep and rich pink/purple colour. Besides that, she wore no clothing of any type, and was literally naked. Her chest housed two tiny little buttons that would likely become sizeable breasts with time. Near the edge of the line seperating her human like skin from her serpent scales, was a tiny little discolouration in a vertical line, likely her immature genital slit.
An idea struck him, and Ryun got up to search his bags. With all the digging he'd been doing accross the globe, he'd found a few curious little toys. He pulled out an ancient night elven music box, along with a little mechanical gnome toy. Ryun gave the little mechanical toy to her, only to have her hiss, and raise up on her tail tip, trying to seem larger than the mechanical toy that was puttering about. Ryun frowned, and put the toy away, and removed another toy, a doll. A very, very, precious doll.
It took all of three seconds for him to decide to give it to her. With a small smile, Ryun offered Tyrande Whisperwind's doll to her. Siiireerulrahya jumped upon it, hugging the doll to her, the thing almost her height. Grinning, he kept the other item behind him as he picked up his back pack, and moved it to the back of the hollow. He moved to the front, stoking the fire for the night, then moved back into the hollow. Carefully, Ryun wound up the little contraption, set it down, then opened the top.
Soft, tinkling, chiming sounds eased from the little music box. Though it had been intended for one named Theleste, when he'd found it, the little winding mechanism had been broken. A bit of tinkering, a fresh bronze winding key later, and it was almost like it wasn't thousands of years old. He smiled as the naga child slithered to him, nestling between him and the bag, listening to the small clear notes, watching the elf and cat dance and play within the box.
Ryun's hand moved of it's own accord, bringing the child to his lap as he lay back upon the cold stone.
"Sleep Siiireerulrahya, tomorrow is a new day. I'm taking you to orgrimmar to get you some clothes, then to dalaran. There is a naga there that is friendly with the mages, he should be able to place you in your correct home."
The child slept near him, occasionally clutching his leg and waking, making sure he was still with her, before she finally settled into a deep sleep.
Ryun watched the fire, tossing branches to it during the night, before he too, lost himself to the dark reach of slumber.
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
Geeze, that last post... I had to change it just a tiny bit, I was off the 10K limit by 8. Eight!
Ah well.. those are the few stories I'm posting up for now. Have a look you guys, and gimmie a comment!
Ah well.. those are the few stories I'm posting up for now. Have a look you guys, and gimmie a comment!
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
Another chapter in Liyr's history.
Utgarde Keep. P1
Keleseth
"Well this is yet another fine mess you've gotten me into Yorun!" The Tauren's great body moved, his moon shaped axe stopping a sword strike that was heading for the Undead mage's cowl. Fire bloomed in the mage's hands, before it was launched into the face of an attacker behind the Tauren. Momentarily dazed, the Vrykul man wandered, dropping his weapon and swiping at his eyes.
"DRAGON!!!" Riverwind turned, charged, and slammed his shield into the dragon's opening mouth, stuffing its flames back into its gullet. Its rider leapt from its back, offered an outraged yell, and charged the great Tauren. Yorun moved quickly, keeping his eyes on everyone as he cast his magics. He chilled bones and broiled skin, leaving their opponents broken in more ways than one. The warlock with them, a dark and brooding Orc, whispered dark words. The Vrykul visibly weakened their stances as his powerful curses started to take root. Yorun's fire and ice alligned spells, ripped at tender flesh while Riverwind's plated body kept their attentions.
"We're moving too slowly. You, start pulling entire rooms. You, start doing large spells that damage alot of ground. You, stop cursing things and actually do something. I'm the leader, you gotta do what I say." Riverwind's eyes turned dark with rage as he was ordered about by the Blood Elf paladin. A blood curdling shriek from far to the right of the room caught his attention, and he roared at the offendor. The Vrykul screeched to a stop, staring in shock at the warrior that could yell louder than him. The other Blood Elf paladin was struggling as it was to keep Riverwind conscious under the minor onslaught. All of a sudden he stopped his healings, sat down, and started drinking, while the Leader pointed at a new group of Vrykul yet to notice them, and smashed a hammer of light onto the head of one. Riverwind's arms ached, but he threw himself into the fight, furiously fighting like a berserker in order to keep his healer alive.
"HEAL ME!!" On instinct, Riverwind turned and smacked the side of his axe's blade into the paladin's face, stunning his demand to be healed. The paladin reeled, blood dripping freely from his lips and once reagal nose. His green eyes lit with such a fury, the heavens themselves could've been burnt. "You dare strike your leader?" The paladin swung his overly large and glittering sword into the head of one of the Vrykul, splitting the poor unfortunate in twain. "You Dare?!?"
Yorun held up his glowing hands, and summoned the ice of one of the most coldest blizzards imaginable. Everything he didn't consider a friend, froze. The three Vrykul currently attacking Riverwind's back were turned into iceblocks. Not dead, but not moving either. "I've had enough of you." Yorun's eyes likewise burnt with fury. "You've done nothing but yell, swear, demand things beyond your ability, and call the lot of us imbeciles because we're not doing what you want. We are not gnomish mechanations for you to play with. We are removing a threat to the Horde itself, if you can't understand that, then we don't need you." Yorun clapped his hands, summoning a portal to the outskirts of stormwind within the paladin's body, immediately transporting the loudmouthed paladin outside of Utgarde.
"I'm sorry, I can't do this." The remaining paladin's hands shook, as well as his body. "I'm pushing myself too hard on worthless trash, I hazard to think what would happen if we ran into Prince Keleseth." The Orc grunted his immediate dismissal of the paladin. He turned his back upon the paladin, and whispered to the other two that he considered at least halfway decent.
If either of you two have someone you'd prefer, or that you cold trust, tell me their name and I'll summon them here.
Without a moment's thought, they both offered a single name.
Liyr
Liyr
Nodding his aquesance, the Orc warlock sacrificed one of his important soul shards, and started a ritual of summoning. The blubbering paladin continued his speel that he was worthless, then blamed his upbringing. The warlock finished his spell, just as the Vrykul cracked themselves out of their icy prisons. Riverwind turned immediately, cursing the paladin's ineptness, when a very familiar feeling overcame him.
Utgarde Keep. P1
Keleseth
"Well this is yet another fine mess you've gotten me into Yorun!" The Tauren's great body moved, his moon shaped axe stopping a sword strike that was heading for the Undead mage's cowl. Fire bloomed in the mage's hands, before it was launched into the face of an attacker behind the Tauren. Momentarily dazed, the Vrykul man wandered, dropping his weapon and swiping at his eyes.
"DRAGON!!!" Riverwind turned, charged, and slammed his shield into the dragon's opening mouth, stuffing its flames back into its gullet. Its rider leapt from its back, offered an outraged yell, and charged the great Tauren. Yorun moved quickly, keeping his eyes on everyone as he cast his magics. He chilled bones and broiled skin, leaving their opponents broken in more ways than one. The warlock with them, a dark and brooding Orc, whispered dark words. The Vrykul visibly weakened their stances as his powerful curses started to take root. Yorun's fire and ice alligned spells, ripped at tender flesh while Riverwind's plated body kept their attentions.
"We're moving too slowly. You, start pulling entire rooms. You, start doing large spells that damage alot of ground. You, stop cursing things and actually do something. I'm the leader, you gotta do what I say." Riverwind's eyes turned dark with rage as he was ordered about by the Blood Elf paladin. A blood curdling shriek from far to the right of the room caught his attention, and he roared at the offendor. The Vrykul screeched to a stop, staring in shock at the warrior that could yell louder than him. The other Blood Elf paladin was struggling as it was to keep Riverwind conscious under the minor onslaught. All of a sudden he stopped his healings, sat down, and started drinking, while the Leader pointed at a new group of Vrykul yet to notice them, and smashed a hammer of light onto the head of one. Riverwind's arms ached, but he threw himself into the fight, furiously fighting like a berserker in order to keep his healer alive.
"HEAL ME!!" On instinct, Riverwind turned and smacked the side of his axe's blade into the paladin's face, stunning his demand to be healed. The paladin reeled, blood dripping freely from his lips and once reagal nose. His green eyes lit with such a fury, the heavens themselves could've been burnt. "You dare strike your leader?" The paladin swung his overly large and glittering sword into the head of one of the Vrykul, splitting the poor unfortunate in twain. "You Dare?!?"
Yorun held up his glowing hands, and summoned the ice of one of the most coldest blizzards imaginable. Everything he didn't consider a friend, froze. The three Vrykul currently attacking Riverwind's back were turned into iceblocks. Not dead, but not moving either. "I've had enough of you." Yorun's eyes likewise burnt with fury. "You've done nothing but yell, swear, demand things beyond your ability, and call the lot of us imbeciles because we're not doing what you want. We are not gnomish mechanations for you to play with. We are removing a threat to the Horde itself, if you can't understand that, then we don't need you." Yorun clapped his hands, summoning a portal to the outskirts of stormwind within the paladin's body, immediately transporting the loudmouthed paladin outside of Utgarde.
"I'm sorry, I can't do this." The remaining paladin's hands shook, as well as his body. "I'm pushing myself too hard on worthless trash, I hazard to think what would happen if we ran into Prince Keleseth." The Orc grunted his immediate dismissal of the paladin. He turned his back upon the paladin, and whispered to the other two that he considered at least halfway decent.
If either of you two have someone you'd prefer, or that you cold trust, tell me their name and I'll summon them here.
Without a moment's thought, they both offered a single name.
Liyr
Liyr
Nodding his aquesance, the Orc warlock sacrificed one of his important soul shards, and started a ritual of summoning. The blubbering paladin continued his speel that he was worthless, then blamed his upbringing. The warlock finished his spell, just as the Vrykul cracked themselves out of their icy prisons. Riverwind turned immediately, cursing the paladin's ineptness, when a very familiar feeling overcame him.
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
Liyr had been talking to a rogue within Dalaran, the mage's city, trying to gain information about the wherabouts of his mistress, when he felt a strange pulling sensation. A small frown furrowed his brow, and the rogue asked about his health. Liyr shook his head to the inquiry, suggesting a latter time to meet up, then investigated the thin greenish purple magic that was taking root inside his middle. A feeling of discomfort grew, untill suddenly he was no longer in Dalaran.
A bubble of green energy surrounded his form as purple lights became his world. Though Liyr knew he was moving, he didn't know where nor why. A breath within the strange void, and suddenly he was rocked upon his feet, a familiar back in sight. The sounds of battle reached his long, pointed ears, and his body reacted. Liyr prayed, offering health, spirit, and protection to everyone who could hear his voice. He prayed for healing, and received it. Brilliant light cascaded about bodies in motion as damage was nullified by his faith. Bubbles appeared around everyone, including the warlock's minion Iksilroon, a Felguard. With a flick of his wrist, Liyr sent a physical prayer of mending towards Riverwind, while his hands flashed with a healing spell that he loosed upon the warlock's minion, restoring it to perfect health.
"Liyr!" Liyr nodded his head towards Riverwind, as he finally took out the last Vrykul.
"Where... Where exactly are we..?" Riverwind's gigantic form wrapped Liyr up in a hug. The shield around Liyr squeaked slightly as it was pressed.
"Utgarde Keep. We were contracted to elliminate four people. Prince Keleseth, Skarvald the constructor, Dalronn the controller, and Ingvar the plunderer. Our current healer's not up to the task of seeing us through this trying time. Do you think you can keep us and him alive while we remove this blight?" Liyr nodded to Yorun while Riverwind's grip tightened.
"Who's this manky looking pinky?" Yorun turned, ice crusting his fingers.
"Hold your tongue shadow filth. This priest is worth fifteen of any other healer, fifty times that worthless paladin blubbering over there!" Yorun pointed to the worthless excuse of a healer wiping at his eyes. The warlock's eyes burned at the insult, and Liyr intervened.
"Please, we're all on the same side, aren't we? Can we remove the threat to our nations without trying to attack each other?" The Orc grunted, his features turning guarded. Yorun's hand lit upon Riverwind's arm, and he reluctantly released his hold upon Liyr
"Glad to have you with us." Liyr nodded, not exactly caring either way.
"Do what you gotta do, you know my limits." Yorun stayed near Liyr, and held back the warlock that was about to follow the Tauren. A glare, and Yorun shook his head.
"Watch." Liyr's eyes lost their focus, and his hands moved. A shield enveloped Riverwind's body along with a bolt of light as he charged at a group of Vrykul, and kept moving. Liyr followed, keeping a set distance as Riverwind grabbed the attention of three more groups. The warlock backed up in fear, but Liyr moved forwards, as did Yorun. One more group, and Riverwind's fists smacked the ground with fury, cracking it and demanding the attention of all around. Liyr's shield broke, and his prayer of mending spell activated upon Riverwind getting hit for the first time. A new shield enveloped Riverwind's body as the bolt of light shot to Iksilroon, the closest to Riverwind. Unheeding, Riverwind attacked all those around him, smashing, striking, yelling, taunting. He was convinced that no matter what happened, Liyr would keep him and the party up.
When the secondary bubble started to fade, Yorun was already summoning a blizzard to attack the swarm of Vrykul men around Riverwind. Liyr moved like a being posessed. His hands raised, pointing at his enemies. Instantly their backs crawled with pain as Liyr used a word of shadow. Granted the priests that had chosen the darker path would have done more damage, but Liyr's concern wasn't damage. It was distraction. The second shield broke, and Liyr reshielded Riverwind. He cast a minor healing spell upon the warlock's bound demon as it received a glancing blow from one of the Vrykul. He turned, encasing the warlock in a shield, moments before a spear was thrown from one of the Vrykul engaged in battle within the blistering cold of Yorun's blizzard.
"By Ogrim's Hammer!" Riverwind laughed long and low, striking at all around him gleefully. Yorun actually smiled at the Orc warlock's exclamation. He moved his hands, and enveloped one of the last standing Vrykul in flames. His blackened corpse dropped to the ground without a sound. Riverwind's heavy axe took out two more while the Orc's demon killed another. Youn's dark voice rippled with mirth.
"What you'll soon understand about Liyr, is that he acts on thought. If you're thinking of hurting someone, that person will immediately be enveloped within his shields. Just be glad he's not quick to anger like we are. When he goes into a rage, nothing's safe from his bloody wrath. Hey Liyr, when was the last time you got angry?" Liyr's emerald eyes blinked at the question.
"Angry? I don't know.. I think the last time was in the scarlet monestary, when one of the scarlet crusaders called you all sorts of names." Yorun's eyes crinkled with dark mirth. He pulled out a pipe and lit it with a thought, puffing lightly upon the dark wood.
"Ahh... I remember that day. That was about a week after we met, was it not?" Liyr nodded. He turned, looking to the paladin still sitting on the ground. "Orc, no matter what you do, if you value your life, do not anger Liyr. His family has a long history of strength within the blood elf nation. His blood comes from the time before the sundering, when dragons walked as men, when the greatest of magics were child's play to the mages of the Night Elves.
The Orc shrugged under his vestments, his eyes dark. "Be that as it may, I'm not like you, I need to replenish my mana." He turned at a tap to his shoulder, looking up into the Blood Elf's far away emerald eyes. Potions were presented to him, along with food and honeymint tea.
"Liyr, do you have to?" Yorun turned his back on the sickly display, and moved over to where Riverwind was inspecting the bodies of the fallen Vrykul. As he got close, the sound of drum beats echoed about the room they were in. Like lightning, Riverwind and Yorun turned, axe and hands raised, to find Liyr beating lightly upon two sets of drums. Before anything could be said, a feeling of strength washed over the two as Liyr's drums worked their magic. These drums had very special gifts to give. They allowed a party to receive a druid's gift of the wild, and a paladin's blessing of kings, without either being there. His blessings given, Liyr collapsed the drums and placed them back into the bottomless pit that was his backpack.
"Yorun, I've been working on a new spell, would you like to benefit from it?" The mage turned, dark yellow eyes unblinking.
"A new spell?" Liyr nodded. "What's it do?"
"Well, I call it spirit well, and basically, you gain all the benefits of my spiritual strength. You will always have mana to burn, because I'll be supplying it."
"Are you sure about that?" Liyr nodded again, smiling.
"I have more than enough to share with you Yorun. The Orc can lifetap and gain his mana that way, you only have your evocation to restore your mana, and you can't use it often. I've been trying to get this spell to work for a long time now, and I think I've finally got everything right." The mage nodded.
"Very well, I'll be your guinea pig." With a wave of his hands, blue energy linked Yorun and Liyr. The blue energy was as tall as Liyr, and about the same width. Yorun's eyes almost blazed with energy, his undead body started to sparkle with light, and then the large blue energy transfer dipped, then shrunk in upon itself untill it was only a tiny string.
"Wow..." Liyr smiled at Yorun's small exclamaition.
"I'm glad it works. Now, when you cast your spells, your mana will be restored by me, not yourself." He turned to the Tauren, and rifled in his bags again. "Riverwind, I have some shield glyphs for you as well." He presented the markings to the warrior, each having enough strength to nullify the damage from a dragon's breath before being destroyed. Riverwind's large hands took them thankfully, affixing one immediately to his shield, the others going into his bag.
"Thanks Liyr. If everyone's ready, we can get started."
"Will he really heal my lifetaps?" The party turned to the warlock, nodding.
"Just try to do it at the start, or immediately at the end of a group we're attacking. If there's someone attacking you, I'd rather you didn't do it." The Orc nodded again. "I'll also make sure your demon stays up too. I'm ready Riverwind." The great Tauren nodded, and they began again.
A bubble of green energy surrounded his form as purple lights became his world. Though Liyr knew he was moving, he didn't know where nor why. A breath within the strange void, and suddenly he was rocked upon his feet, a familiar back in sight. The sounds of battle reached his long, pointed ears, and his body reacted. Liyr prayed, offering health, spirit, and protection to everyone who could hear his voice. He prayed for healing, and received it. Brilliant light cascaded about bodies in motion as damage was nullified by his faith. Bubbles appeared around everyone, including the warlock's minion Iksilroon, a Felguard. With a flick of his wrist, Liyr sent a physical prayer of mending towards Riverwind, while his hands flashed with a healing spell that he loosed upon the warlock's minion, restoring it to perfect health.
"Liyr!" Liyr nodded his head towards Riverwind, as he finally took out the last Vrykul.
"Where... Where exactly are we..?" Riverwind's gigantic form wrapped Liyr up in a hug. The shield around Liyr squeaked slightly as it was pressed.
"Utgarde Keep. We were contracted to elliminate four people. Prince Keleseth, Skarvald the constructor, Dalronn the controller, and Ingvar the plunderer. Our current healer's not up to the task of seeing us through this trying time. Do you think you can keep us and him alive while we remove this blight?" Liyr nodded to Yorun while Riverwind's grip tightened.
"Who's this manky looking pinky?" Yorun turned, ice crusting his fingers.
"Hold your tongue shadow filth. This priest is worth fifteen of any other healer, fifty times that worthless paladin blubbering over there!" Yorun pointed to the worthless excuse of a healer wiping at his eyes. The warlock's eyes burned at the insult, and Liyr intervened.
"Please, we're all on the same side, aren't we? Can we remove the threat to our nations without trying to attack each other?" The Orc grunted, his features turning guarded. Yorun's hand lit upon Riverwind's arm, and he reluctantly released his hold upon Liyr
"Glad to have you with us." Liyr nodded, not exactly caring either way.
"Do what you gotta do, you know my limits." Yorun stayed near Liyr, and held back the warlock that was about to follow the Tauren. A glare, and Yorun shook his head.
"Watch." Liyr's eyes lost their focus, and his hands moved. A shield enveloped Riverwind's body along with a bolt of light as he charged at a group of Vrykul, and kept moving. Liyr followed, keeping a set distance as Riverwind grabbed the attention of three more groups. The warlock backed up in fear, but Liyr moved forwards, as did Yorun. One more group, and Riverwind's fists smacked the ground with fury, cracking it and demanding the attention of all around. Liyr's shield broke, and his prayer of mending spell activated upon Riverwind getting hit for the first time. A new shield enveloped Riverwind's body as the bolt of light shot to Iksilroon, the closest to Riverwind. Unheeding, Riverwind attacked all those around him, smashing, striking, yelling, taunting. He was convinced that no matter what happened, Liyr would keep him and the party up.
When the secondary bubble started to fade, Yorun was already summoning a blizzard to attack the swarm of Vrykul men around Riverwind. Liyr moved like a being posessed. His hands raised, pointing at his enemies. Instantly their backs crawled with pain as Liyr used a word of shadow. Granted the priests that had chosen the darker path would have done more damage, but Liyr's concern wasn't damage. It was distraction. The second shield broke, and Liyr reshielded Riverwind. He cast a minor healing spell upon the warlock's bound demon as it received a glancing blow from one of the Vrykul. He turned, encasing the warlock in a shield, moments before a spear was thrown from one of the Vrykul engaged in battle within the blistering cold of Yorun's blizzard.
"By Ogrim's Hammer!" Riverwind laughed long and low, striking at all around him gleefully. Yorun actually smiled at the Orc warlock's exclamation. He moved his hands, and enveloped one of the last standing Vrykul in flames. His blackened corpse dropped to the ground without a sound. Riverwind's heavy axe took out two more while the Orc's demon killed another. Youn's dark voice rippled with mirth.
"What you'll soon understand about Liyr, is that he acts on thought. If you're thinking of hurting someone, that person will immediately be enveloped within his shields. Just be glad he's not quick to anger like we are. When he goes into a rage, nothing's safe from his bloody wrath. Hey Liyr, when was the last time you got angry?" Liyr's emerald eyes blinked at the question.
"Angry? I don't know.. I think the last time was in the scarlet monestary, when one of the scarlet crusaders called you all sorts of names." Yorun's eyes crinkled with dark mirth. He pulled out a pipe and lit it with a thought, puffing lightly upon the dark wood.
"Ahh... I remember that day. That was about a week after we met, was it not?" Liyr nodded. He turned, looking to the paladin still sitting on the ground. "Orc, no matter what you do, if you value your life, do not anger Liyr. His family has a long history of strength within the blood elf nation. His blood comes from the time before the sundering, when dragons walked as men, when the greatest of magics were child's play to the mages of the Night Elves.
The Orc shrugged under his vestments, his eyes dark. "Be that as it may, I'm not like you, I need to replenish my mana." He turned at a tap to his shoulder, looking up into the Blood Elf's far away emerald eyes. Potions were presented to him, along with food and honeymint tea.
"Liyr, do you have to?" Yorun turned his back on the sickly display, and moved over to where Riverwind was inspecting the bodies of the fallen Vrykul. As he got close, the sound of drum beats echoed about the room they were in. Like lightning, Riverwind and Yorun turned, axe and hands raised, to find Liyr beating lightly upon two sets of drums. Before anything could be said, a feeling of strength washed over the two as Liyr's drums worked their magic. These drums had very special gifts to give. They allowed a party to receive a druid's gift of the wild, and a paladin's blessing of kings, without either being there. His blessings given, Liyr collapsed the drums and placed them back into the bottomless pit that was his backpack.
"Yorun, I've been working on a new spell, would you like to benefit from it?" The mage turned, dark yellow eyes unblinking.
"A new spell?" Liyr nodded. "What's it do?"
"Well, I call it spirit well, and basically, you gain all the benefits of my spiritual strength. You will always have mana to burn, because I'll be supplying it."
"Are you sure about that?" Liyr nodded again, smiling.
"I have more than enough to share with you Yorun. The Orc can lifetap and gain his mana that way, you only have your evocation to restore your mana, and you can't use it often. I've been trying to get this spell to work for a long time now, and I think I've finally got everything right." The mage nodded.
"Very well, I'll be your guinea pig." With a wave of his hands, blue energy linked Yorun and Liyr. The blue energy was as tall as Liyr, and about the same width. Yorun's eyes almost blazed with energy, his undead body started to sparkle with light, and then the large blue energy transfer dipped, then shrunk in upon itself untill it was only a tiny string.
"Wow..." Liyr smiled at Yorun's small exclamaition.
"I'm glad it works. Now, when you cast your spells, your mana will be restored by me, not yourself." He turned to the Tauren, and rifled in his bags again. "Riverwind, I have some shield glyphs for you as well." He presented the markings to the warrior, each having enough strength to nullify the damage from a dragon's breath before being destroyed. Riverwind's large hands took them thankfully, affixing one immediately to his shield, the others going into his bag.
"Thanks Liyr. If everyone's ready, we can get started."
"Will he really heal my lifetaps?" The party turned to the warlock, nodding.
"Just try to do it at the start, or immediately at the end of a group we're attacking. If there's someone attacking you, I'd rather you didn't do it." The Orc nodded again. "I'll also make sure your demon stays up too. I'm ready Riverwind." The great Tauren nodded, and they began again.
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
-
Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
It only took a few more rooms to get to Prince Keleseth. The Orc's opinion of Liyr grew greatly each time they battled with the Vrykul. He was the mana supply for the mage, who was blasting everything around them with icy blizzards non stop, drastically draining his mana each time. He was healing the Tauren warrior twelve and twenty Vrykul deep, getting buffeted on all sides. He was healing his own lifetaps, and his demon, yet he still hadn't asked for a rest to recover his mana. Granted, the renewal spells placed upon him were all the healing he got, aside from the occasional shield before something blasted magic or fire at him, but even so, the sheer power for one little priest was beyond imagining.
"Liyr, there's four guards. You think we can take them and the prince at the same time?" Liyr peeked above the steps, seeing what Riverwind saw. Four Vrykul men were standing at a long table, eating and drinking, but their eyes were always looking around. He recognised rune casters, and decided on a new spell. He nodded to Riverwind, and he charged up and over, bellowing a roar at the Vrykul. He slammed into them, and kept moving to the prince behind them. They charged after him, bellowing their own rage, the party behind them.
As one of the rune casters stopped, whispering words under his breath to create a shield, Liyr finished speaking his spell. The bubble around the rune caster vanished as though it had never been as Liyr dispelled the magical effect. The other rune caster had managed to lay a magical restraining spell upon Yorun, only to have it removed in the backwash of the spell he'd cast. The warriors struck Riverwind's shield, and blinding light burst forth from Riverwind's body, blinding him, the Vrykul, and the party. Liyr was the only one unaffected, used to the potency of the shield glyphs.
A wave of his hand and he encased Riverwind in two spells cast as one, a shield spell along with his roaming prayer of mending. Dark bolts were launched from beside him as the warlock finally started casting his shadow bolts at the Vrykul, Iksilroon swinging his mighty axe and cutting deep swathes through their enemies' skin.
"Your blood shall be mine!"
"Riverwind!"
"I know, I know!"
Riverwind's fists slammed into the ground, stunning the unsteady and near death Vrykul men. He pulled a bow from his back, aiming, and firing, taking Prince Keleseth in the arm, interrupting what he was saying as Yorun's hands moved about, summoning ice in a cone of brilliant white death. Riverwind dropped his bow, and Liyr cast three spells at Keleseth. He set a plague upon him, said a word of shadow, and summoned a shadow fiend to distract him.
"Riverwind, go, I can handle these guys if they go after either Yorun or the warlock. Just stay within range."
A grunt, and the great tauren bull charged, slamming into Prince Keleseth before he even had time to understand what was happening. A dark word was spoken, and Liyr's shield broke, the prayer of mending spell bursting into brilliance as Riverwind was finally struck for the first time, the golden bolt shifting to the shadow beside him that was harrying the dark blood elf's legs.
Liyr's and moved immediately, wrapping Yorun in a golden shield a moment before a broadsword swung out from the cone of ice, and bounced away from the mage at neck height. Dark words hit Liyr's ears as the warlock said spells that were unintelligeble to him, the Vrykul yelling and dropping his blade, only to eat Yorun's fireball. The man's head exploded into flame, then his skull became only flame as the bone was eaten away by Yorun's fire.
A tingle of foreboding, and Liyr wrapped himself within a golden nimbus before a dark spell splattered against his side, eating the magical defense like a plague rat ate flesh.
"Aranal, ledel! Their fate shall be yours!"
Liyr looked up, hearing a summoning, and saw the undead minions. Swearing, he drank a potion of lightning thought, and whispered a spell at such speed his lips numbed. Raising his dominant hand high, he thrust it towards the ground as he finished, brilliant light encircling himself, Yorun, the warlock and his minion, bubbles of magical energy forming around each of them as healing energies crashed like waves around their bodies.
Liyr stepped away from the two spellcasters, moving within range of Riverwind, and felt his lacking strength. Raising his left hand, he threw bolts of pure energy into his body, healing and shielding him in one move, and then the undead were upon him. Cracking his soul apart, he visibly faded from their view, and they immediately turned their attention to Riverwind, who was closer, and the greater threat to their simple minds.
One hand raised, and multiple little sparkles surrounded the spellcasters and the warlock's demon as minor healing energies kept them stable. Both runecaster's fell, and then Iksilroon's axe beheaded the last warrior.
"Don't rest, kill Keleseth!"
They were already running with him without his needing to say anything.
"Not so fast!"
Ice entombed the warlock, and Liyr once again swore.
"YORUN!"
The mage stopped moving, and started casting a massive pyro spell, the flames literally dripping and hissing from his hands, a monumental fireball forming. Liyr dropped another of his shields upon Riverwind, re-applying his disease and shadow word upon Keleseth while Yorun worked his spell to free the warlock. Already the warlock's minion had stopped moving, cold intelligence glittering behind its eyes as its master's leash was stopped, allowing it a momentary freedom that had to be removed. There was nothing more terrifying than a demon that had slipped its collar.
"Aranal, ledel! Their fate shall be yours!"
"Gods. Riverwind!"
"I know, on it."
The great tauren body intercepted the undead, slamming into them as they rose from the ground where they had fallen. Great smashing swings, and they were nothing but bones again while Riverwind returned his sights to Keleseth. Yorun's spell was finally finished, and he launched it at the warlock's frozen prison.
"Not so fast!"
Yorun froze, his spell leaving his fingers and shattering the cage of ice around the warlock. Free once more, his mind asserted dominance over the Demon, and turned it to freeing Yorun. Liyr waved his hand, and healing energies engulfed the warlock, turning back the damage frostbite and hypothermia had started. Dark words literally dripped from his lips as dark energies encased both the prison of ice and the Prince's body. Dark energies formed in his hands as he summoned a bolt of dark energy, drew it back, and hurled it at Prince Keleseth, the dark flames striking his robes and eating at his flesh, a high scream making the warlock grin.
Liyr started casting a large spell once more, taking longer this time than he had the first time, the potion's effects having already worn off. Just as the spell was ready, he completed the spell, re-launched a bolt of golden energy to Riverwind's back, re-applying his prayer of mending, and shielded himself.
"Not so fast!"
Liyr smiled as the ice entombed him, knowing that even if he wasn't freed immediately, his defences were strong enough to out last the spell. Provided of course he didn't run out of air first. He watched as the warlock shattered Yorun's prison, the both of them turning and laying waste to Keleseth. Under the combined might of both heavy hitting spellcaster's, and the warrior he just couldn't kill, Kelseth fell. The killing blow was Riverwind's, his sword spearing the dark mage's chest.
Keleseth stumbled backwards, shocked, likely not understanding how we had managed to beat him. He fell to his knees, dark eyes gazing up at us as something that was once human glittered behind those eyes.
"I join... the night."
The old blood elf fell forwards, his mantle falling, his bone bleached hair sprawling about his skull, mercifully hiding his eyes from view. A dark first slammed into the ice, and Liyr stumbled, finally breathing again, taking in large, deep breaths of cold, biting air. Yorun's hands were wrapped in flames, pressing the heat towards him, which he gratefully accepted. Full body shivers caused his teeth to chatter, the simple robes he wore not cut out for this level of chill. Even through his pain though, he still managed to see to healing their injuries. Even the demon who had been about to slip his collar and run amok.
"Liyr, there's four guards. You think we can take them and the prince at the same time?" Liyr peeked above the steps, seeing what Riverwind saw. Four Vrykul men were standing at a long table, eating and drinking, but their eyes were always looking around. He recognised rune casters, and decided on a new spell. He nodded to Riverwind, and he charged up and over, bellowing a roar at the Vrykul. He slammed into them, and kept moving to the prince behind them. They charged after him, bellowing their own rage, the party behind them.
As one of the rune casters stopped, whispering words under his breath to create a shield, Liyr finished speaking his spell. The bubble around the rune caster vanished as though it had never been as Liyr dispelled the magical effect. The other rune caster had managed to lay a magical restraining spell upon Yorun, only to have it removed in the backwash of the spell he'd cast. The warriors struck Riverwind's shield, and blinding light burst forth from Riverwind's body, blinding him, the Vrykul, and the party. Liyr was the only one unaffected, used to the potency of the shield glyphs.
A wave of his hand and he encased Riverwind in two spells cast as one, a shield spell along with his roaming prayer of mending. Dark bolts were launched from beside him as the warlock finally started casting his shadow bolts at the Vrykul, Iksilroon swinging his mighty axe and cutting deep swathes through their enemies' skin.
"Your blood shall be mine!"
"Riverwind!"
"I know, I know!"
Riverwind's fists slammed into the ground, stunning the unsteady and near death Vrykul men. He pulled a bow from his back, aiming, and firing, taking Prince Keleseth in the arm, interrupting what he was saying as Yorun's hands moved about, summoning ice in a cone of brilliant white death. Riverwind dropped his bow, and Liyr cast three spells at Keleseth. He set a plague upon him, said a word of shadow, and summoned a shadow fiend to distract him.
"Riverwind, go, I can handle these guys if they go after either Yorun or the warlock. Just stay within range."
A grunt, and the great tauren bull charged, slamming into Prince Keleseth before he even had time to understand what was happening. A dark word was spoken, and Liyr's shield broke, the prayer of mending spell bursting into brilliance as Riverwind was finally struck for the first time, the golden bolt shifting to the shadow beside him that was harrying the dark blood elf's legs.
Liyr's and moved immediately, wrapping Yorun in a golden shield a moment before a broadsword swung out from the cone of ice, and bounced away from the mage at neck height. Dark words hit Liyr's ears as the warlock said spells that were unintelligeble to him, the Vrykul yelling and dropping his blade, only to eat Yorun's fireball. The man's head exploded into flame, then his skull became only flame as the bone was eaten away by Yorun's fire.
A tingle of foreboding, and Liyr wrapped himself within a golden nimbus before a dark spell splattered against his side, eating the magical defense like a plague rat ate flesh.
"Aranal, ledel! Their fate shall be yours!"
Liyr looked up, hearing a summoning, and saw the undead minions. Swearing, he drank a potion of lightning thought, and whispered a spell at such speed his lips numbed. Raising his dominant hand high, he thrust it towards the ground as he finished, brilliant light encircling himself, Yorun, the warlock and his minion, bubbles of magical energy forming around each of them as healing energies crashed like waves around their bodies.
Liyr stepped away from the two spellcasters, moving within range of Riverwind, and felt his lacking strength. Raising his left hand, he threw bolts of pure energy into his body, healing and shielding him in one move, and then the undead were upon him. Cracking his soul apart, he visibly faded from their view, and they immediately turned their attention to Riverwind, who was closer, and the greater threat to their simple minds.
One hand raised, and multiple little sparkles surrounded the spellcasters and the warlock's demon as minor healing energies kept them stable. Both runecaster's fell, and then Iksilroon's axe beheaded the last warrior.
"Don't rest, kill Keleseth!"
They were already running with him without his needing to say anything.
"Not so fast!"
Ice entombed the warlock, and Liyr once again swore.
"YORUN!"
The mage stopped moving, and started casting a massive pyro spell, the flames literally dripping and hissing from his hands, a monumental fireball forming. Liyr dropped another of his shields upon Riverwind, re-applying his disease and shadow word upon Keleseth while Yorun worked his spell to free the warlock. Already the warlock's minion had stopped moving, cold intelligence glittering behind its eyes as its master's leash was stopped, allowing it a momentary freedom that had to be removed. There was nothing more terrifying than a demon that had slipped its collar.
"Aranal, ledel! Their fate shall be yours!"
"Gods. Riverwind!"
"I know, on it."
The great tauren body intercepted the undead, slamming into them as they rose from the ground where they had fallen. Great smashing swings, and they were nothing but bones again while Riverwind returned his sights to Keleseth. Yorun's spell was finally finished, and he launched it at the warlock's frozen prison.
"Not so fast!"
Yorun froze, his spell leaving his fingers and shattering the cage of ice around the warlock. Free once more, his mind asserted dominance over the Demon, and turned it to freeing Yorun. Liyr waved his hand, and healing energies engulfed the warlock, turning back the damage frostbite and hypothermia had started. Dark words literally dripped from his lips as dark energies encased both the prison of ice and the Prince's body. Dark energies formed in his hands as he summoned a bolt of dark energy, drew it back, and hurled it at Prince Keleseth, the dark flames striking his robes and eating at his flesh, a high scream making the warlock grin.
Liyr started casting a large spell once more, taking longer this time than he had the first time, the potion's effects having already worn off. Just as the spell was ready, he completed the spell, re-launched a bolt of golden energy to Riverwind's back, re-applying his prayer of mending, and shielded himself.
"Not so fast!"
Liyr smiled as the ice entombed him, knowing that even if he wasn't freed immediately, his defences were strong enough to out last the spell. Provided of course he didn't run out of air first. He watched as the warlock shattered Yorun's prison, the both of them turning and laying waste to Keleseth. Under the combined might of both heavy hitting spellcaster's, and the warrior he just couldn't kill, Kelseth fell. The killing blow was Riverwind's, his sword spearing the dark mage's chest.
Keleseth stumbled backwards, shocked, likely not understanding how we had managed to beat him. He fell to his knees, dark eyes gazing up at us as something that was once human glittered behind those eyes.
"I join... the night."
The old blood elf fell forwards, his mantle falling, his bone bleached hair sprawling about his skull, mercifully hiding his eyes from view. A dark first slammed into the ice, and Liyr stumbled, finally breathing again, taking in large, deep breaths of cold, biting air. Yorun's hands were wrapped in flames, pressing the heat towards him, which he gratefully accepted. Full body shivers caused his teeth to chatter, the simple robes he wore not cut out for this level of chill. Even through his pain though, he still managed to see to healing their injuries. Even the demon who had been about to slip his collar and run amok.
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>
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Demon
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jan 26, 2010 3:45 pm
- Realm: Veco/Sentinels/Arathor/Other
- Gender: Male
- Location: Australia. Beyond that, ask.
Re: Back online. YAY. Dumping stories here, reply as you wil
"Sorry Liyr, he was just a little tougher than I expected."
A nod, Liyr's teeth chattering to the point that chipping them was a risk. He dropped his backpack, rummaged around in it, and drew out a dark, black obsidion cape, scales glittering on one side, dark orange and reddish leather shedding heat on the other. A simple twirl, and Liyr stepped into summer heat. He wrapped the heavy coat around himself, heat gently cooking his skin the way a summer sun would.
"Onyxia? Is that really a cloak made from Onyxia's hide?"
A sharp nod, partial up, followed by a sharp down, then another sharp up. Liyr's fingers burried themselves within the cloak, slender fingers burning as ice cold met summer heat.
The warlock shook his head in amazement. He looked over to the Tauren that was standing beside Keleseth's fallen body, looking down at the small pool of dark red ichor that was barely managing to seep out from the killing blow. Riverwind's deep voice echoed within the hall.
"We'll stay here for a little bit while Liyr regains feeling in his limbs. Just keep an eye on the door those undead came from, I can hear something moving there, pretty fast too, but it's staying in the darkness."
Nods from everyone except Liyr, who was too busy breathing fire into ice.
"J-j-j-j-j-jus-t-t-t a-a-a-a-a l-l-l-l-id-dle b-b-i-i-it l-l-l-o-o-ong-g-ger."
"Take your time Liyr, we have time."
End P1
'tch, god damnit, I was over the limit by 87 characters... couldn't reconfigure it and keep the story unless I deleted the first post... and I don't feel like doing that...
Well here's part one of Utgarde keep, the first boss. Remember guys, comment if ya want to, I post the stories in bunches. It's kinda hard to interrupt a story in progress. ^_^
A nod, Liyr's teeth chattering to the point that chipping them was a risk. He dropped his backpack, rummaged around in it, and drew out a dark, black obsidion cape, scales glittering on one side, dark orange and reddish leather shedding heat on the other. A simple twirl, and Liyr stepped into summer heat. He wrapped the heavy coat around himself, heat gently cooking his skin the way a summer sun would.
"Onyxia? Is that really a cloak made from Onyxia's hide?"
A sharp nod, partial up, followed by a sharp down, then another sharp up. Liyr's fingers burried themselves within the cloak, slender fingers burning as ice cold met summer heat.
The warlock shook his head in amazement. He looked over to the Tauren that was standing beside Keleseth's fallen body, looking down at the small pool of dark red ichor that was barely managing to seep out from the killing blow. Riverwind's deep voice echoed within the hall.
"We'll stay here for a little bit while Liyr regains feeling in his limbs. Just keep an eye on the door those undead came from, I can hear something moving there, pretty fast too, but it's staying in the darkness."
Nods from everyone except Liyr, who was too busy breathing fire into ice.
"J-j-j-j-j-jus-t-t-t a-a-a-a-a l-l-l-l-id-dle b-b-i-i-it l-l-l-o-o-ong-g-ger."
"Take your time Liyr, we have time."
End P1
'tch, god damnit, I was over the limit by 87 characters... couldn't reconfigure it and keep the story unless I deleted the first post... and I don't feel like doing that...
Well here's part one of Utgarde keep, the first boss. Remember guys, comment if ya want to, I post the stories in bunches. It's kinda hard to interrupt a story in progress. ^_^
Liahna/Night/Ryun of <Petopians>