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For Whom The Bell Tolls (Tide!)

Started by Eckhart_Von_Musel, December 02, 2017, 06:11:36 AM

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Eckhart_Von_Musel

The rain made it impossible to see. Thunder roared overhead, and lighting illuminated the night sky. Wallace Hope trudged along the dirt road, wishing he had never woken up that morning. It was bad enough that the village elder had given him an ultimatum to leave Yellowleaf after discovering the kind of mage was was, but the awful weather made it ten times worse. The young Necromancer's robes weren't designed to keep him dry, and even with his hood up he'd become thoroughly soaked. The rain had caused Wallace's long black hair to become plastered to his face, and he kept having to push it out of his eyes. "Well, it's not too bad." the young man thought optimistically. "It could be snowing! Now that would really suck."

*CRASH*

Wallace stopped dead in his tracks- the loud noise hadn't been thunder that time. Gripping his stave tightly, Wallace ran in the the direction the noise had come from. His feet sloshed noisily through puddles of rainwater, and his wool socks were beginning to itch.

Finally, Wallace found the cause of the noise- a carriage had crashed into a ditch on the side of the road. The horse and coachman were laying in a bloody heap. The carriage itself was in splinters, seemingly having collapsed on top of itself. Wallace looked eyes widened. "Oh... Oh no..."

"H-help? Frederick?" a muffled voice called out from beneath the wreckage. "Anybody? I cant get out!"

Heart racing, Wallace sprang into action. Sliding down into the ditch, the young man tried to lift the rubble by himself- only to find it was far too heavy for him alone. He pointed his stave at the coachman, mentally ordering the corpse to lend a hand. The body rose, eyes glowing, and slowly lurched forward. Together, Wallace and the zombie were able to push the wreckage aside. The Necromancer looked down at the woman who'd been trapped, his face obscured by the shadow of his hood. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

The woman looked at Wallace, then at the corpse of the coachman. "F-Frederick?" she said, eyes wide. "What... what have you done to my husband?"

Wallace took a step back. "Um... well you see..." he began awkwardly. "That isn't really your husband, he's already-"

A bolt of lightning flew from the woman's hand, string Wallace in the chest. The young necromancer flew backwards into the mud, a cry of pain escaping his throat. "You monster!" The woman cried, standing up and facing the man. "You did this, didn't you!" Her hands crackled with energy as she approached Wallace, eyes glistening with hatred. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life!"

Panicking, Wallace raised his arms in front of his face. "No, please!" he cried, releasing his control of the coachman. "You don't understand! I don''t want to hurt you! Please!"

The woman didn't listen, and raised her arm to cast a spell...

NotSarcastic

(I realised this post wasn't open after posting, my fault, I'm really new, I apologise)

Tide

When you could touch the sky and bend it to your whim, there were times you preferred to let it pour. The storm was, to some, a sign of greater influence at play; manifestations beyond comprehension. What they didn't know was such a force walked plainly among them.

An old lich sat on a stone stool, enjoying the peace in chaos. It was a quick fix to have the rain be cast from one's robe, like water off of a duck's back. There were a number of ways to go about it. Weaving a layer of force into the fabric was... elementary, when you knew what you were doing. Valkyrie sighed, the noise lost to the howl of the Earth. Millionth time she'd made that joke.

The concept of probability lost its relevance in the context of eternity. If you sat down to meditate in the middle of nowhere enough times, something unusual happened sooner or later. Like a carriage crash. She recognised the sound by now. Sounded like a bad one. It was a whole debate unto itself weighing up the difference a handful of lives would make, but with her tranquillity already broken she figured she might as well do the right thing, just for the Hell of it.

There was a commotion at the scene of the crash. She crossed her arms around her staff, casually leaning her weight on it. The notion of a wizard commanding the power of electricity to strike down their foe might be impressive, to easily amused fools. To her it was little more than a petty brawl. And one-sided at that. Oh, but here was an interesting development; a corpse stood among them.

With a tilt of Valkyrie's glaive, the second bolt to arc from the woman's hand leapt suddenly to the blade, fizzling out over its edge. "Hello there." It was always rich to see the look on people's faces when they saw her, really saw her.

Val strode up to the lady and gripped her wrist, staring fiercely into her eyes. "Shut up and listen," the lich barked. "It looks like an ambush, yes, but I suppose the boy was trying to help." He just... happened to use the mangled carcass of a loved one to achieve that.

Directing her gaze to the raised slave, she continued in a softer tone. "You might save him yet." With a firm touch, she guided the girl's hand towards the freshly dead man. "His heart lies still. Use your lightning to make it beat again." She could do it herself, but where was the fun in that? Quietly she arranged to mend the damage to the body.

Eckhart_Von_Musel

(It's ok, we were all new here once)

Wallace closed his eyes tightly, anticipating the end. "Mom... I'm sorry." he thought, a pit forming in his stomach. "Looks like I won't be restoring honor to the family name after all." The necromancer clenched his teeth, waiting for the strike...

But the strike never came. Instead, a female voice greeted them. Wallace opened his eyes just a smidge, and saw a hooded woman grab the arm of his attacker. Wallace sat up slowly, blinking rainwater out of his eyes. Necromantic energy was something the young man could sense, but usually he needed to concentrate to do that. This time he didn't, which was... Worrying.

What came next was a blur. The strange woman commanded the lightning mage to strike the reanimated corpse of her lover, and after a moment of hesitation, the mage obeyed. A bolt of electricity stuck Frederick's body, causing it to topple over. It seemed to have no immediate effect, and the mage turned and glared at the woman.

"And what, exactly, was that meant to accomplish?"

Tide

Goddamned mortals and their need for instant gratification. "Pay attention and you'll see," Valkyrie growled, voice dripping with venom. She shot back the ungrateful wench's scowl tenfold, stomping over to the downed spouse and jabbing him in the leg with her boot. His pained grunt spoke for itself. "You're welcome." Resurrecting fresh dead was a simple task; the long dead, they were a real challenge.

The horse had done nothing wrong. She repeated the process with the poor thing, though much quicker because she did the job herself. While soothing the animal, she looked between the reunited couple and lectured them as if talking to children. "Right then, what did we learn today? Oh yes - don't go for a drive in the middle of a violent storm." She handed the reins back, but didn't let go at first just to mess with them. "This is now your lucky steed, take good care of him. You will not get another second chance." An ounce of credit, just an ounce, that'd be the day. Wrapped up in her ire, she had completely forgotten about the kid she saved.

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Wallace's eyes widened. "Did she just... Resurrect them on the spot?" he thought, completely flabbergasted. "Is... Is that a thing you can just... Learn how to do?"

The mage and her husband were equally shocked, and both looked at the woman as if she was some kind of god. "I..I..I.." the mage stammered as Frederick began to feel his body as if he was checking that he was all there. "T-thank you?"

The couple left hastily after the woman chided them, clearly frightened beyond belief. Wallace stood up slowly. His chest was still in immense pain, and moving made him feel dizzy, so he ended up propping himself up with his stave. "Golly..." he said quietly. "Thanks for the save, friend."

Tide

There it was, the look; a bit delayed but they got there eventually. Valkyrie giveth and she taketh away, mind-blowing, she knew. It wouldn't be the first time she had saved a life whilst being a full-on bitch about it, but if she was being honest she just didn't care anymore. They were hardly ever in a position to complain about her bedside manner.

With a tap of her glaive on the shattered carriage, it splayed open and rolled into a partial wooden bubble on the roadside, complete with benches. She took a seat out of the rain, pulling down her hood and beckoning the necromancer to join her. A small green flame materialised in the middle of the shelter, casting her in emerald light.

That fancy staff he held seemed to emanate a fair bit of power. Interestingly, it felt familiar to her. "Well, don't thank me yet," she addressed his courtesy in a matter-of-fact tone, "I haven't decided whether or not to kill you anyway." As awkward and innocent as he appeared, a dark mage was a dark mage. She rubbed her chin, sizing him up. "How many lives have you taken, boy?"

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Watching the woman make a shelter out of the carriage was utterly breathtaking. Wallace watched as the wood seemed to come together like clay, forming a shield against the rain. "What is she?" he thought, hastily stepping inside the newly formed structure. "A god?"

He sat down on the bench opposite the woman. He pulled his hood down, pushing his hair out of his eyes. In the dim green light he was able to get a better look at his savior- dark hair, eye shadow, a pointy nose. Wallace really wasn't interested in her physical appearance too much though- what he really wanted to know was why being in her presence made him feel like he was in a cemetery.

And then she asked her question. Wallace froze, clutching his stave tightly to his chest. "Um... how many lives?" he asked, shaking his head. "N-none. Never." He looked at the woman, eyes betraying his fear. "That- That's not who I am..."

Tide

"You're not lying." It was more a statement than a question.

Eyes narrowed in thought, Valkyrie leaned back in her chair. "Okay..." She exhaled, gravely. "I know dark isn't evil, son. But there'll be the temptation." A stay of execution, then. "Just remember that if you lose that battle, I will find you. It's kind of what I do."

A well-intentioned death mage. Truly a rare thing. She crossed her legs, resting her face on her palm. "Why necromancy? There are easier ways to live, you know."

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Wallace would have liked to say the woman accepting his answer was relieving, but it really wasn't. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, swallowing nervously. "This could be a trap." he thought, drawing his staff closer to his chest. "She's some kind of death mage too, I can feel it. Why she's posing as... whatever she's posing as, is beyond me."

"Well..." Wallace began awkwardly. "We're not all born with the ability to learn any 'mancy we want. Some of us get stuck with one." The young man began to pick at his fingernails, an old nervous habit. "I... just happened to get the 'mancy nobody else likes."

"I do not want to bring up my father. If she hunts dark mages, she'll immediately recognize his name- bastard managed to get himself in history books."

"Er, I mean, who are they to say the dead can't be raised for nonviolent reasons?" he asked timidly. "That's just like, societal preconceptions. Dead guys are great when you need land tilled, y'know?"

Tide

Mental inhibitions, the restricted mind. It wasn't a state Valkyrie fondly recalled. But somewhere down the line, it just clicked. She'd spent a very long time pushing boundaries... at some point, she realised they had broken.

So passive, so harmless, so naive. He was like a little puppy. "You seem nervous. Let me make this clear. I'm not going to hurt you, unless you misuse that power." Emphasising her point, with a virescent flash in her eyes the pain numbed, blood vessels repairing. It could scar but as disfigurements went, lightning's branching marks looked pretty good.

The boy rolled out his spiel about why people shouldn't mind when he desecrated their dead. "Societal preconceptions, eh." She jerked a hand towards him, her tone critical. "Is it irrational to persecute someone wielding your ability, a thing infamously used to terrorise the populace?" Her eyes flitted to the crystal-set staff, then back to him. "Your reasons don't matter to them. They're protecting themselves. If they began to separate the sheep from the wolves, they might end up letting a real threat in."

She closed her eyes and laid back her head on the wood, listening to the sound of the rain for a moment. "What I'm saying is, why use it?" She assumed that he had something to prove. They often did.

Eckhart_Von_Musel

The woman's eyes flashed, and Wallace could feel the pain in his chest begin to dissipate. Wallace blinked twice. "Whoa..." he thought, awestruck yet again. "Maybe I don't have anything to fear..."

The woman's points were fair ones- Wallace would even go so far as to say she was right. Still, he couldn't bring himself to accept them. The necromancer looked at his stave sadly. "My dad..." he began slowly. "He was a necromancer too. One of the bad ones you were talking about." He sighed. "I just... I just don't want to live in his shadow, okay?"

He gave the woman an optimistic look. "If I can just show people it's not inherently bad, then maybe more people will start to practice it for good! You don't even need to use people if you're creative enough!" A glint of pride flashed in the boy's eyes. "Do you know how many dead bugs there are just laying around? I can make constructs out of them, walls and stuff!"

Tide

Val squinted back to the staff when the boy brought up his father. Was that where he got it? There was a nagging feeling she'd seen it before. "Daddy issues, eh," she goaded with a smirk. Following in a man's footsteps would tend to keep you in his shadow, she thought. Maybe he was... hmm.

A wall. Of dead bugs. She stifled a laugh. "That sounds like a great way to invite disease." Ignoring the issues of security and deep-set aversion, the dead brought pestilence, swarms, carrion feeders, and were bound to decay without some other enchantments. "There are people who can build stone walls, or automate farming with golems." She didn't mean to beat him down, she just saw the incident today happening again and again. "Kid, you're welcome to try, but I've been watching folk for a long time. I don't think they're going to change their minds on this."

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Wallace looked at the ground, face red. "You don't know that." he muttered. "Just you wait and see, I'll show you..." The necromancer tried to look at the woman, but he found himself unable to. "I refuse to believe that I can't help people with my magic. I need to help people with my magic, or me and my mom will have to live in fear forever."

Finally, Wallace steeled himself, and stared at the woman's nose- looking her in the eyes was seemed like a bad idea. He swallowed nervously. "You know I can feel necrotic energy? My dad could too, it's a family thing." His voice was quiet, but it audibly shook. "You're dead. You've been dead for a long time."

The boy paused for a moment. "I'm normally not one to judge, but... If you're allowed to use whatever kind of death magic you have to help people, bring them to life and stuff... Why can't I?"

Tide

Yeah, something to prove, she thought as much. The path he believed would conquer his fear also put him in danger. That, at least, resonated with Valkyrie a little. Still, if he could barely stand his ground here then what sort of chance did he have out there?

He was a perceptive one. "Is that what you sense," she smugly intoned, an ominous tinge to her words, "that I'm dead?" She couldn't help but indulge in the moment. "... Perhaps I'm the essence of death itself." For a fleeting instant, her eyes were sufficiently dark that they seemed to absorb the surrounding light.

The perspective he held was... quaint. "I never said you can't. But I will say there are holes in your plan." If people arbitrarily needed permission to use their powers, she'd be out of a job.

"Tell me about your father," she commanded. "What happened to him?"

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Wallace froze up. "That was the wrong thing to say." he realized a bit too late. The woman's eyes grew dark, and she was soon proclaiming herself to be the death's own personification. "Oh no! She really is a god? What do I do?"

Panicked, the necromancer immediately did at the personification asked. "Um, uh, my father was Alabaster Hope! He tried to take over Darken Vei a long time ago, got himself killed." He paused, looking out at the rain. "He got a lot of people killed..."

Wallace shook his head suddenly. "But that doesn't matter. I'm not him, I never will be him." He looked at the god timidly. "I'll never use my powers, or my fists, or anything else to hurt people. That's what he did."

Tide

How easy it was to shape his beliefs with suggestion. He struck Val as rather simple-minded, the sort who struggled to see things properly until he cut away all the complicated bits around the edges.

"Hm," she mused, "I knew I recognised that staff. I tried to kill him recently, slippery bastard got away. Good to hear someone got him." Ridiculous name, not at all a fashionable one to roar as he'd made his escape.

The boy seemed pensive, had seemed to open up. "You won't hurt anyone, I can believe that. You're quite obviously a complete pushover, after all. Just don't let that staff fall into the wrong hands." It was something that still haunted him today, that was clear. In fact the story was sort of the direct opposite of hers including the outcome.

Oh, she might as well. "Do you want to know a secret, boy?" She gripped her seat and leaned forward gleefully. The bubble began to close, fire fading.

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Wallace's tilted his head to the side, a confused look on his face. The deity had a strange perception of time- his father had died over fifteen years ago. He then went beet-red as the woman proceeded to label him a pushover. "A-am not..." he said softly.

Wallace recoiled- the walls were beginning to close around him. The woman leaned forward, and the dim light began to fade. "Uh, no thanks..." he said shakily. "You don't need to tell me if you don't wanna..."

Tide

"That's too bad." The dome enclosed them in pitch darkness. "In every practical sense, I might well be divine." A jade glow emerged, drawing slowly nearer. "But what you see before you is, at least technically, human." The illumination took the silhouette of a jagged skull, now inches away from him. "And you're one of few alive today who know."

The walls of the shelter burst away, sending splinters flying outwards. "I am the reckoning, a dreaded light to incinerate the corrupt." Standing before the boy was an aspect of demise, looking down on him through burning sockets. "I am the unnatural evil's worst nightmare." She replaced her hood with a spindly hand, silently cackling at her melodramatic act. "I am Valkyrie."

Eckhart_Von_Musel

Terror ripped through the necromancer's heart as the wooden dome shattered. With a cry of fear he stumbled backwards into a puddle. He looked up at the creature, eyes wide...

And then, Wallace became excited- Valkyrie turned out to be something he was very familiar with. "Oh cool! You're a lich?" he asked, awestruck. "My dad wanted to be one of those, so we had a ton of books about them at home! What didja do with the phylactery?" The boy grinned, seeming oblivious to how much danger he was likely in. "Did you make it a grain of sand and then hide it on the beach? That's what I'd do."

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