Bottomline: he'd done something irrevocably stupid. Such blinding and painful irony for a mortal of his mental capacity and yet it had been done. As plain and simple as there, for though he possessed great wit (at least to his present knowledge), he couldn't go back in time and fix what might be one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made in his life. Regret hardly mattered now when all was said and done; all that remained utterly pertinent was to attempt to fix such an err in the brain to ensure that it never happened again. But alas, he was hopeless. He was too stubborn to listen to reason, despite what claims threatened his life if he didn't. That however, was another story altogether. He enjoyed his freedom and wouldn't have it any other way.
Still, that didn't stop his lead knight from grumbling under her breath about the a high lord wandering off on his own without an escort by his side to accompany him. Neodoryx however, had something else in mind. There was no possible way that he would able to make it to the temple with a band of complaining knights following him. Though he wasn't exactly fool enough to always go alone on expeditions or anywhere for that matter, he was quite capable of handling his own personal affairs. If he could do it when he was fourteen, he could surely now that he was more than twenty years advanced in his age.
Neodoryx had several options to choose from when picking exactly which way he could get to his prescribed destination. Two of which were the obvious and both involved horses in some way. Others included but were not limited to, methods such as realm-jumping, or teleporting. But at the risk of releasing more than one or two pleasant demons, he preferred to take a less risky path. And teleportation didn't always guarantee one would reach their destination in one piece, or get there at all. And then there was always water-walking or attempting that new flying spell. However, the latter, still in it's early stages of development, and he wasn't quite sure exactly how a gryphon or a dragon would respond to a sky-walking Serenian.
And that left the final option, summoning. He wanted to get to the temple as swiftly as possible for the ruins were simply dying to be explored, this much he could feel. And that was that; out from the sky a massive white avian fell, squawking to his call and responding to his every command. Speaking the beast's tongue, he requested passage to the treacherous peaks of the Thunderblacks, a land inhabited by savages but the key to knowledge he sought. He knew the runes he was currently hard at work on, could not be completed without the relic hidden somewhere inside the temple.
Taking to the skies and at a rate as quick as lightning, what would have taken days of travel and diplomacy between bordering nations, took a mere numbers of hours before he arrived to a treacherous path between a barren hillside and a series of burrows alongside left of it. Shadows lurked everywhere and even the bird whose back he straddled in a small spot just beneath its wings, seemed fearful to land. He spoke once again, acknowledging the creature's apprehension. Instead, the creature fell as close to the earth as possible, allowing him to jump the remaining number of feet to the ground, which he did and cleared with little more than a grunt and a grimace at a sprained ankle.
But shadows closed in on the land at nearly all angles and Neodoryx, as he watched the grand creature soar away, could begin to see exactly why this place was called the Thunderblacks. But he wouldn't let misconceptions hinder him from his tasks, he had a relic to retrieve even if it did lie in the heart of danger.
Kiru tried to tell himself he wasn't afraid when he knelt toward the east that morning. But his bladder had felt too tight to piss and even his blood clung to his finger when he tried to draw it. He'd been too preoccupied to drink anything last night.
"Our blood is of His fire," he muttered, teeth tight around the words. He squeezed his finger to make the drop fall and watched it topple all wobbly and then vanish into the dirt. "And when it is done burning, will return to Him. Life feeds Him; death feeds Him; He grows ever greater." From here he couldn't see the sun at all, it was buried behind a bloody great mountain. Kiru had to turn his head and spit to one side, raising moisture in his dry mouth, before he could go on. "Remember His words."
And fuck my fear, Kiru told himself bluntly, rising stiffly from his knees. Fear meant nothing, it was morning wax in the eye. It'd go away when the clouds parted, and if it didn't, he'd ignore it. He always did--or he had, when fear had been a more faithful companion. Kiru hadn't felt scared like this for years.
The fact was, he'd lost a troop of men and women and didn't know what had happened. They'd come up the South Pass, through nice green forest. They were hunting raiders, something he'd done before. Something he'd done before that on the other side, in the pay of a man he only remembered by the way he'd died. He'd even been on this ridge before; he recognized it.
It wasn't the bloody scenery that scared him.
Last night they'd made camp in the last of the forested land, and he'd taken Tayr Cabhadden to scout ahead, over the tops of the black ridges that would lead them southward. When they'd gotten back they'd found nothing but dripping branches and a smoking fire. All the gear. All the tents. No sign of a fight. And no one alive. They had found the sentries. It looked like they'd been turned to black stone, and they were too heavy to lift, almost too heavy to tip over into graves. Kiru had never seen that before. He tried not to imagine the sort of thing that could do it.
But they didn't know if the rest were dead, and he couldn't run back down the mountain without trying to find them while the trail was warm. What trail? They had assumed whatever it was could only lie over the ridge, but Kiru wasn't so sure. Fucking--magic--
He turned back toward the camp he'd made with Cabhadden, limping as he picked his way among the rocks. He'd just clambered over a crag near where he'd left the female soldier when he froze. A strange man stood a hundred yards off. How had he gotten there? Kiru's hand went to his sword. There was no cover among these rocks. Shit. Shit. He couldn't make out the man's features or the details of his clothing; he was backlit against the sun. That's how the God loves my blood, he told himself. Maybe he wants more of it. Fuck.
"Who goes?" he called sharply, taking out his loaded crossbow; he aimed it at the stranger. His voice would carry to Cabhadden. She might be a woman and a mage besides, but she was his soldier and he could use her.
Morning. It could barely be called a morning yet, with the light dim and grey throught the fog. Tayr was not usually a willing early riser, even after all these years of service, but today she was wide awake. After yesterday's events, sleep was hard to come by.
It should have been a routine expedition. Go into mountains, kill raiders, come back. Easy. So easy, in fact, that one or two trainees had even tagged along as an exercise. As a rule, she liked these sorts of assignments - they got you out into the fresh air and the pay wasn't bad either. But returning to camp after scouting with Kiru, something was not usual at all. Something was very wrong.
A whole troop of soldiers, gone. Not dead; dead she could deal with, she'd seen and buried plenty of corpses in her time. Of course death was sad but you grieved and then you moved on. Disappearance, however, was something else entirely. Not knowing what happened, what could happen, that was a scary thing.
And of course, if they were still alive she couldn't very well leave them, could she? No, she would find the survivors and make everything all right. That was something she was sure of.
She shook her head and stood up, stretching out the knots of age. She grimaced and rubbed the back of her neck. It was generally a bad idea to sleep in armour even for a paltry three hours, but with the atmosphere last night it had seemed like the best choice. She was certainly paying for it now. She ached all over.
She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and reached for her glaive. It might be a good idea to see what Kiru was up to. If he disappeared too, she might just allow herself to panic. Not too much though. That would be unseemly.
'Who goes?'
Ah. There he is. And it sounds like trouble. Tayr tightened her grip on her weapon and strode towards the source of the noise. The effect was rather ruined by the terrain - after a few steps she gave up on trying to appear imposing and focused on just staying upright. She heaved herself over a boulder and saw Kiru and another man, a little way off.
If this man was responsible for yesterday, the two of them were as good as dead. If he wasn't, they might live. They really had nothing to lose.
She adopted a wide stance and in a loud, clear voice with more than a hint of exasperation added, 'We are soldiers of Adela. If you want to keep all your limbs, I suggest you answer his question quickly and honestly.'
There was a strange, ominous force in this land...in this immediate area that Neodoryx found abruptly unsettling. At first it was just a pang in his gut that brought about unsightly feeling that was as if just stepping onto these lands would begin his death sentence. It wasn't like he hadn't been to the Thunderblacks before... But this particular section had eluded him for some time, and now he was suddenly realizing that maybe this was the reason that the avian beast had refused to go down and land onto the soil. The crags themselves looked treacherous enough to ward off most entities that weren't prepared to handle the terrain, however, that was not the sensation that he was getting from this place. Something dire was not right here.
Neodoryx was not the type to go headfirst into an area unprepared. Though he had with him his black and violet robes beneath the curved and layered plates of his crimson armor, he knew that not even the plates could defend against the savagery of the natives. He heard of the atrocities of what these barbarians were capable of anyone that was deemed a trespasser onto their lands. These people...these Umbraeons as they were called, cared little for the kingdoms. As much as he would try to respect the wishes of others, Neodoryx knew little about these natives other than they were vicious fighters and would fight to the death, even with appendages chopped off or their entrails dangling out. It wasn't a pretty sight.
But they weren't the only things to watch out for, another quite assuredly, were any various dragons and beasts roaming about, ready to snatch up any unsuspecting traveler from the vulnerable earth. He knew that to the earth, all things were dispensable as it could always replenish them in the future. But undoubtedly to the mortal beings that were consumed, they were certain not to be.
However, these things, as foreboding as they were to normal people (and to him if he had any sense of cowardliness in him), he could sense were not the source of danger he suddenly felt tingle in his gut and fester further up inside his throat. Resisting the urge to vomit, he was abruptly surprised by the sound of voices nearby. The called out to him and he pivoted around, his tall form still nothing but a shadow in the light. He could barely see them from the distance he was at, but when the threatened him he took another step back. He was at a loss. Soldiers? What were they doing here? Where they going to attack him?
He didn't know if they were here for diplomacy or at a call for war. He would rather avoid the latter if he could help it, but he couldn't shake that emotion of apprehension that made a grab for the roots of his sanity.... And then he considered. Were they worthy opponents of Overload? No, after that last accident, he didn't want to risk killing a person who had done him no harm as of now. Overload was a dangerous spell; it required no other explanation.
"I'm just a traveler!" he called back, stepping to the side and unsure of their next move.
"If you're just a traveler then I'm a lady's maid," Kiru said, aiming his crossbow at the figure. He still had to squint to see him against the sun. He was glad of Cabhadden's presence at his back, but not her hasty threat. Damn you, olive-haired bitch, what did that accomplish? If he's dangerous it won't matter what we threaten; it'll only provoke him, and if he's not dangerous we've scared him to skittishness. He sidled sideways, trying to bring the stranger into view. Kiru was not unobservant. There had been no one on the mountain when they'd come up before. Either this man had crawled out of a hole in the rocks, which seemed unlikely given his size and bearing, or...
He gritted his teeth. "Forward to us an' give us your name, traveler--your name. We won't do you no harm if you don't do none to us, we're the only Dragons on this pile as don't bite, I promise you that." He jerked his chin toward the Adelan emblem on his chest. If he's traveling the Thunderblacks alone, he's more than up to defending himself. He should know we know that.
He probably does, the motherfucker. So. Dangerous, then.
But he hadn't killed them yet, which put Kiru in right good cheer. He'd found the longer someone didn't kill you, the less likely it was they would. He kept his crossbow fixed on the figure anyway.
[Skipping Quills by her insistence]
No, he didn't like being threatened. But then again who did? Neodoryx didn't take it seriously and merely grimaced in the face of it from the distance he resided at. The sky now was growing dim despite it being morning, the clouds seeming to be consumed with the smoke of dragon's fire. Which may as well have been for all he knew. These people could have been the source of all the apprehension twisting at his guts the whole time and he wasn't about to let him be another victim of this scheme.
But still the man called forth and demanded to know his identity. Should he divulge to them that much? Despite the fact that they said they were Adelan soldiers, that didn't stop him from considering that they wouldn't think twice about who he was, position of Serenian high lord notwithstanding. They could have been assassins for all he knew who killed some soldiers and donned their armor, hoping they'd trap someone of position to better eliminate them. Disguise was always a foremost way to infiltrate the enemy's lair and do away with them... Even though he wouldn't consider these people his enemies...nor was there a lair present of any kind.
They seemed as anxious as he or, worse yet, simply showing the physical signs of it. Neodoryx did not step forward as commanded but stood firm, determined. "You're promise is an empty," he replied back, still unsure if he could trust them. With the way the man had a cross bow aimed at him, he was starting to get the feeling that this wouldn't be a very peaceful greeting. Raising a hand over his head, he charged in his hand several strands of haphazard electricity, attempting to illuminate himself better over the thickening clouds that were starting to block the sun. The glow simultaneously began to envelope his whole body, armor included, transforming it soon into a void state, preventing the light now from blocking their vision.
Maybe if they got a better look at him, they wouldn't attack. That said, that didn't mean he wouldn't if he had the chance to strike first should things turn to worse. "You tell me your names first and I won't be forced to kill you! Tell me what you're doing here!"
Kiru squinted against the sudden flare that illuminated the stranger. The same old automatic contempt as ever pricked the back of his mind at the sight of magic, but he was so used to the stuff by now that he ignored it, and focused on what he saw instead. The stranger was tall and pale, with long dark hair. He wore beautiful armor, burnished and red. Not a soldier's armor, maybe not even a knight's, not many could afford plate like that or wear such colors. Was their guest noble? Alone, in the Thunderblacks? He couldn't make sense of it no matter which way he squinted. Maybe he just wears it to look pretty.
At least armor might mean vulnerability. It might mean it covered someone naturallike and likely not someone who turned sentries to stone and made off with a camp of soldiers in the night.
His name. "I'm Kiru Zakath," he called, without hesitation. "Sergeant in His Majesty's army. Green-hair over there's Tayr Cabhadden." He jerked his head sideways a little, though he didn't lower his crossbow, not yet. "We come up huntin' raiders," he went on, "but ran into somethin' worse as took the rest of our troop in the night. May the God strike me if I lie. Now I'd thank you to come forward, sir, and speak true in return."
He stared impatiently at the man.
Yesterday's terror and rage curdled into a thick fog which clouded Tayr's judgement, and, worse, she knew it. That just annoyed her even more. The longer she stewed here in fear and self-recrimination, the sloppier she would get. She was itching to give something a good hiding for what had happened.
She was about to answer the man when Kiru jumped in. She narrowed her eyes at him - I can speak for myself, thank you so very much! - but knew better than to add any extra commentary this time. Not when the suspicious man was glowing like that.
Instead she stood as stock-straight and still as her aching, trembling body would allow. She regarded the stranger and his newly revealed and, in her opinion, distastefully ostentatious armour with an expression of quiet loathing. Cap'n Fancypants is gonna kill us with sparkles. Coffin fulla bricks better get a nice burial for puttin' up with this.
[OOC: Sorry I haven't given you much to reply to. It wouldn't be IC for her to screw up anything else yet. X D]
The designs of his armor were not for titivating his over-all appearance; he'd never been that vain. Rather, the carvings and illustrations were more practical in execution. They were runes, not decoration. Of course, one could not assume such from just how he looked from afar. But Neodoryx knew their purposes and, for now, that was all that mattered. And from what they knew, he could be bipedal demon from the Netherworld for all these alleged soldiers could care for.
They didn't appear as threatening as most of the monsters he'd had the great misfortune to encounter, however, anyone with half a brain would know that looks could be greatly deceiving. So, in an effort, he would work to no longer deceive them. Fear still gripped them; he could almost smell it in the air.
Satisfied that they had complied with his request, he decided that it would only help if he complied with what they bade him. But even so, he would give them no quarter. "If you lie, it won't be a god that strikes you!" he said, warningly. "I'm not here to harm you. My name is Neodoryx, I'm here to explore the ruins, that is all. Whatever it was that took your fellow soldiers, I had nothing to do with it. You can be sure of that."
With that said, he relinquished the glow of his hand, vanishing the charge and taking the opportunity to step boldly forward despite the aim of the crossbow, a move done only by the foolishly brave...or the really stupid. In either case, Neodoryx felt it was safer for them to assume he was just an ordinary mage. The truth of his origins might later be disclosed when a sense of trust was gained.
I'm never sure. Kiru wanted to spit, but he didn't. Instead, he lowered his crossbow slowly and and nodded at Neodoryx. "Yeah, I see you're wearin' your ruin-explorin' clothes," he said, looking sardonically at the man. "Do those come in--"
From further up on the ridge, he heard the crackle of bracken and the thump of a heavy object. Kiru had his bow up again and aimed by the time he saw what it was rolling down the mountainside, pebbles skittering in its wake. He couldn't tell from here who it was; the face was a bloody ruin and he could make out no helpful detail from this distance but the Adelan colors on the torn uniform. He took a few fast steps forward, stepped up onto a rock, and peered past the body, up toward the ridge, but he could make out no further sign of movement.
"... men's... styles..." His mouth went hard and he looked back down at Neodorys and Tayr. "Cabhadden, we'd best see about that." Kiru spat sideways. "Funny," he told Neodoryx, "it looks like we're goin' your way."
The dead man had rolled down from the ridge that'd lead to the ruins the armored man had spoken of. Kiru remembered them vaguely as a spot on a map when he'd come through here before, though he'd never found reason to go near them. He didn't think their present reason was much good, either.
Tayr nodded solemnly, pushed past Kiru and knelt by the mangled corpse. She checked for jewellery and rifled through bloodstained pockets for anything that might identify the body. She pulled out a ruined handkerchief with a name embroidered in what was once fine blue silk. 'It's Asteril. His wife just 'ad a little girl.'
She laid the flimsy cloth over what remained of the man's face and heaved herself to her feet. She took a deep breath and turned to face the two living men. 'Right. When we get near t' top, them's as up last count to three an' we go over together.'
She fixed Neodoryx with an appraising stare. 'And frankly luv, I trust you about as much as I'd trust a cat, but if yer comin' our way I won't say no.'
With that, she turned again and half-marched half-scrambled to the steep rocky slope. She stopped at the bottom for a second, glaring up at it with her free hand on her hip as if to dare it to chuck another corpse at them. Satisfied that the rocks knew she was Not Happy, she started picking her way up.
He couldn't say that he was really surprised by the falling body. The entire overall sensation was the area was rather gut-wrenching. For now, he merely glanced at the damaged features of the Adelan before him, or Kiru as he called himself. He knew the man was trying to insult him. Though really, he couldn't tell any reason why he would want to in the first place. So even as he stared at the body on the ground, he muttered quite innocently, "I don't think you'd know anything about that, sir."
"Coming your way? Seems more like you're about to follow me. But no matter." And now he remembered just why he didn't want to bring his guard with him upon his intellectual excursions. They always seemed to get in the way of things, worried for no reason and the like. Hopefully these two won't be like that.
Neodoryx followed Tayr's action and knelt by the corpse, though he was the last too. It was not like he'd never seen one before and, in fact, interacting with one was becoming something habitual on a daily basis. "Just what I need," he muttered, before slinging the body over his shoulders and heading up the path, indifferent whether or not the two would follow him to his destination. Dead bodies or not, he would do what he came here to do, even if he ended up being one of them.
His wife just had a little girl. Kiru didn't think he cared and certainly Asteril no longer did, but trust the woman to notice. At least there'd be someone to miss him.
Kiru stared as the armored man slung Asteril's body over his shoulders.
Then he tipped his head back and laughed, long and loudly. Anything that might've heard them doubtless already had; their encounter with Neodoryx hadn't been a quiet one. What they'd brushed with likely couldn't be deceived by whispers anyway.
When he'd finished laughing, Kiru shouldered his crossbow and hopped down from the rock on which he'd perched, landing with his weight on his good left leg, as always.
"That's Adelan property he's got there," he said at last, ambling after Neodoryx. The casual tilt to his saunter covered continuous muscular tension, poised readiness to react. He walked quickly, though he didn't appear to exert any effort in doing so, and kept pace with the taller armored figured from a few yards behind. He spoke to Tayr Cabhadden, trying to forestall any outburst she might make. He's already dead, nothing you could say matters. "Still, benefit o' the doubt an' all. I won't start judgin' until he decides to stick his dick in it."
Get mad at me, not him. Kiru looked coldly from Cabhadden to Neodoryx. Not that it wouldn't be fun put an arrow between the plates on that shiny suit.
WHAT.
Tayr's mouth hung open, her face screwed up in an expression of utter disbelief as the stranger walked past her, carrying the corpse like it was the most natural thing in the world. This was not acceptable. Oh no, this just would not do.
She disliked the man more and more every second. Not only was he far too gaudily dressed for her approval, and that he was disrespectful went without saying, but he was presumptuous now too. She was preparing to unleash the kind of verbal assault a boarding school headmistress would be proud of when Kiru interrupted her thinking with his own vulgar comment.
She scowled at the both of them and settled into her own pace, marching alongside the other soldier with heavy, angry footfalls scuffing up dust as she went.
The hell with it. If she couldn't yell at him, she'd at least like to find out just what he was up to. A sane person doesn't start dragging around a stranger's corpse on a whim. If he was insane, well, that would be a different problem and one she'd like to know about as soon as possible, thankyouverymuch.
In the sweetest voice she could manage, which given the circumstances was almost a growl, she said, 'If you've got a reason to be carryin' around our mate it might be an idea to share it with the class.'
His sanity was always the subject for much scrutiny over the years and he wouldn't contest it, for there was never any logical reason to. Neodoryx was never the type of man question another person's opinion unless he found it unreasonable in his own strange logic. Indeed progress depended upon the unreasonable man, but to most, Neodoryx was simply the epitome of the word.
Despite his age, his sharp ears had caught hold of the vulgar comment made by Kiru, one of which suddenly caused him chuckle himself. He knew that people would find working with dead bodies to be quite odd, more so to the facts that normal people would avert from the activity altogether. "You must be quite the necrophiliac, huh, Kiru?" he muttered rhetorically. He let the humor of the phrase slip away as he readjusted the corpse on his shoulder.
Perhaps now he could get some peace while he made it to the temple. That was a thought until the voice of Tayr piped up.
He turned slightly opposite the body to eye her, gazing at her in something akin to a glare. "I don't know about you, but surely before his man died he saw something that was aiming to kill him, and I intend to find that out. Wherever your troop has gone, surely he'll know. And if he doesn't well...that just remains to be seen." And continued on his way.
[Of course that's only one part of his plan.]
The thought of necromancy disgusted Kiru. He hawked and spat again but didn't speak out against it, merely concealed the gesture as the routine clearing of lungs and throat after a grueling climb. He kept trudging after Neodoryx, eyes on the body slung over his shoulders and the way the man was moving. He looked older than Kiru himself, but stronger, with good posture and even weight distribution. Of Asteril's corpse Kiru made out nothing extraordinary. A sharp breeze blew the scent of new death back in his face, the smell before rot kicked in, very nearly a sweet one, touched with metal. Blood had congealed in Asteril's hair, and his face was beaten too badly for easy recognition, with some sort of blunt object.
That wasn't too odd. Raiders could've done that much; they often used rocks, since good arrows were hard to come by in the mountains. Granted, they might've taken more care to dispose of the body.
Sometimes you just couldn't figure these things out. Kiru had found it was often better to wait and watch and not think you knew more than you did.
When he reached the top of the ridge he paused and looked around, searching for any trace or track. Yes. There. Kiru knelt next to the a bent patch of grass. Near it someone had scuffed out a set of several footprints... more than one person, less than ten, he thought. A few paces onward even the scuffing disappeared, as sand gave way to rock. He thought he made out the outline of some disturbance on the grit that clung to the stone, but couldn't be entirely sure.
"Nothin' useful," he told Cabhadden shortly, though he held up five discreet fingers out of view of their new companion, to approximate the number he thought they might be dealing with.
He lengthened his stride to keep in view of Neodoryx as they continued toward the ruins. Kiru eyed a tumbledown stone that would've made a wall and kept on his guard. Where there was a structure that would give shelter and keep out the wind, there might be raiders, or worse.
Tayr made a face. She didn't have a visceral reaction to necromancy, not having any experience with it or the imagination to consider what it might entail, but it was still something that was Just Not Done. Oh, she could see why he might think it would be useful, but she most certainly did not approve and would be excusing herself from the proceedings. If it had to be Done, it should not be in polite company and, unladylike as she was, she considered herself by far the politest of the company present.
She marched easily along, using her glaive every now and then as a walking aid. She didn't need its help much; she was much fitter and moved much faster than anyone would think from a glance. The night's aches and pains had mostly subsided by now, lifted away with the fog.
She paid attention when Kiru started searching the ground. That meant he'd found something. When he'd finished and half-declared his findings, she suppressed a smirk. So that's how it's gonna be? Can't say I blame ya.
She too was a lot more wary now. If it had just been the two of them, a group that size would be a worry. They'd probably be able to win - after all, you don't get to be a soldier in your thirties without surviving being a soldier in your twenties - but they wouldn't escape without injuries. But with the stranger here, and more importantly his magic, she was hoping it would be a more one-sided fight.
Not that she'd mind seeing Captain Fancypants taken down a notch, of course.
As they entered the ruins, she thought she caught movement towards the east, although she couldn't be sure. She scanned again, hoping it was just a trick of the light. Nothing. A few paces later, there it was again, in the corner of her eye. She didn't see what it was, but something definitely moved.
She sought to catch Kiru's eye and jerked her head ever so slightly toward the mess of rocks and scrubs that just may have been some kind of guard tower in years past.
Recently, there have been few good occasions to consider the technicalities of manners. Now was definitely not one of them. Neodoryx had come to this place with one purpose in mind and he intended to carry it out even with two rather bothersome soldiers trailing behind him. He could fare well enough on his own, he was not incapable of self-defense. Though it did perturb him some that these two probably would not leave him to himself as he preferred; he didn't mind them so long as they kept their distance. In all utter honesty, he really could care less about them; they were as they were, with no feelings for or against them.
Surely, he was upbraided by those who knew him well for studying the magics most profane. But in his pursuit of useful wisdom, there was nothing that would hold him back.
The body was rather cumbersome on his shoulder but much lighter than the demon corpses he was accustomed to shuffling back and forth from ruin mantle to temple altar and back again. The body of the man proved to be much smaller than he, himself. Despite the cadaver's current state of disfigurement, Neodoryx was sure that he was well along in his skill enough to at least give the revived body a state of normalcy, at least as much a sense of normalcy as any corpse would be rightly allowed.
Of course, the actually getting to the temple required them to go through the crumbling structures of what resembled a town...or as close the brittling rock could be called a town. It undoubted had been a small settlement in it's time, protected by the nearby fortress. Perhaps this was an outpost of some kind, meant to protect not only the inhabitants of the settlement...but also keep out unwanted visitors. What kind of visitors might want to come here? Only time would answer that question.
The deeper he went along the path, moving through and away from the broken-down structures, pushing through the underbrush an growing foliage, the more twisted his guts became. It was obvious that something wasn't right here.
As he trudged along, body moving with increased power in every stride, he finally saw the ruins he knew that he was searching for: Adamaraxis-zepulcharon. Or better known as Maraxis for simplicity's sake. The exact structure of it was that of a temple no doubt, crumbling black stone with jagged edges. Obliquely shaped columns were placed sporadically along the path, on odd number of them to be sure. Leading up at the far end were the black stones embedded in the ground before being piled upon to create a stairway that swooped upward, from wide to narrow before it led to a rounded chamber door that looked as if it needed the strength of ten thousand people to thrust open. The entire building did not tower in the sky as he originally expected, instead it was rather squat and flatly crafted.
Neodoryx was well aware of the dangers surrounding him, or rather which always maintained their presence around there. There was more to fear here at this temple than from a couple of raiders...no doubt this place was the source of the currently hell that just took place. And yet, he now stood at the temple's, soon to become a madman to his peers.
A heavy sound hung in the air, weighing down on the ears of the travelers as if the deepest voice was articulating a monotonous chant without alteration in intonation. It seemed it even made breathing a chore.
Neodoryx placed a hand at the chamber door, stuck by the sudden heat coming off of it. Despite the looks of it, he grabbed the handle of it, turned the latch and pushed it back into the dank darkness within. "Come along if you wish," he muttered before vanishing inside.
The air felt heavy and flat wrong, as though he'd stepped inside a thundercloud, crackling with electricity and ozone. Except more magicky. Neodoryx had carried the dead Adelan with him into a crumbling black structure, full of dark crawly feelings that got under his skin.
"Thanks, but bugger that with a rusty axe," Kiru said. He stopped dead in the path and looked down at Tayr Cabhadden, mouth caught in his default sneer. He moved his shoulders, loosening the stiff joint on the left. "I'm waitin' out here, soldier." He didn't order her to do the same, though he could have; two soldiers was not much more use against whatever might be out here than one. If she was curious, she could go ahead, but Kiru would have no part of it. Let anyone call him a coward; he'd never cared.
Whatever idiot armor-boy wanted to do in there with a corpse he could do. Asteril was dead already. Kiru, on the other hand, was alive and wanted to stay that way. Keeping out of bloody terrifying magic-filled black temples seemed a sound plan.
Several safe yards from the yawning mouth of the black structure, he scratched idly at his chin, took a few steps out, and looked around. His back to a high slab of fallen rock, he breathed in, searching out any scent of recent habitation: food, fire, unwashed bodies... without much luck. The ozone scent in the air, half-magic and half... Dragonfire, maybe... blocked out most anything useful. But he caught movement in one of the tumbledown wattle houses out of the corner of his eye.
It was less tumbledown than some of the others, he noted, watching it casually, without making the direction of his gaze clear. Lumpy walls, the burned-out remains of a wood roof. Huh. He stayed in the shadow of the big rock, not about to make a target of himself.
The back of his neck prickled.
Tayr looked the temple up and down and decided on the spot that no way, no how would she set foot inside that thing. Even without the oily, oppressive feel of dark magic hanging in the air, this was clearly not a place any normal-minded person would willingly go. She didn't like the idea of the stranger wandering off with Asteril's corpse, but she wanted to follow him even less. She nodded at Kiru. 'Nah, that's 'bout reet, pet. I'm wit' you.'
She planted herself a short distance from the other soldier, adopting the solid stance she used when she was assigned guard duties. She looked around a few times, trying to keep herself alert. She knew there were raiders in the area, but the night's poor sleep was not kind to her and she couldn't stay in a terrified rage forever. She choked back a yawn. Her gaze drifted upwards to a - she squinted - fuzzy black thing some way off in the sky. Aw, a birdy. Least, I think that's a birdy.
She was jolted out of her mistimed contemplations when a large rock nicked her ear and landed in the dirt behind her. 'Wha...! Ohhhh dear.' She wished she was wearing her battle plate, despite its impracticality in this terrain. At the very least it would have been nice to bring a helmet. Why had she been so stupidly over-confident about this mission? Just because it was supposedly routine and easy...
A small skinny man came out of the hut, in a movement that looked almost as if he had been pushed. He stuffed his sling into his pocket and nervously brandished a club. He'd gotten fed up with waiting to spring an ambush, and had hoped that the other two raiders in the hut with him would back him up. It wasn't like the soldiers would be making themselves more of an easy target than they already were.
Unluckily for him, his hastiness had made him rather unpopular with his peers and now he was in a bit of a tough spot.
'Shit,' he moaned, and turned to run down the slope. He knew he probably wouldn't make it, but at this point, any shot at survival was worth a try.
A group of six other raiders moved silently through the ruins on the opposite side to the hut. They paused, and waited for the best time to reveal themselves.
Thank the gods! This set up was getting much better already. "Smart," was all he muttered as he moved further from the light pouring in through the door. True, he couldn't see a damn thing and the body suddenly seemed twice as heavy than it ordinarily was. Now he could do what he needed to do without interruptions. He just wished that he own guards would do that same thing when he wanted his utmost privacy. But that's not what they were paid to do. Imagine a guard paid to leave alone the very person they were trained to defend; now that would be quite a proposal to think about.
He was confident he could do this alone, no matter what lurked in the shadows. There was nothing to fear here, nothing that was reasonably fearful, he felt. Fear was only most potent when it struck, and such was his own policy. He did some of the craziest things because all that he feared never came to pass. Fear was in the future, never arriving. No matter what such an ominous building have to offer, as long as he was prepared, there would be nothing to fear from here. He'd done things like this before, but he was ever ready for any unexpected change. He had to learn the hard way to never put his guard down.
Leading down from the entrance, was another set of steps that spread out down a narrow hall. As he stepped further and further down into the depths, there was no doubt now as to the possibility of this temple being far bigger than he'd initially imagined. And that was because, though it was hardly impressive above ground, it sprawled out underground for miles. He was beginning to see now that this may take a lot longer than he wanted. But there was still the matter of resurrecting the body and figuring out what had happened here.
When he felt he'd reached the staircase landing, Neodoryx paused for a bit before igniting his hand with electricity. The light blue glow emanating from it created a field far enough that he finally was able to see the walls of the what seemed to be the temple's antechamber, a squared in the front, rounded off in the back room that spread out evenly on both sides. There was a door to a passage way on every wall with the exception of the rounded off one to the back. The chamber doors, like the one to the outside, were so oddly shaped that it was a wonder how the stone used to craft them were ever cut to fit into them. Furthermore, Neodoryx wondered about the carvings dug into the doors, knowing not if they were just decorations or if they actually symbolized something. He was leaning toward the latter, but deciding it best to decipher them at a later date.
The antechamber was large and doubly uninviting. He wondered if he slammed the body on the ground just how crazy the acoustics would be in here. There was no doubt the clang of the armor would bounce off the walls and make his presence known far better than scouting would. Of course, that was just plain stupid.
At the center of the chamber, lay an enormous circular slab of stone, as black as the floor around him. Stepping towards it, Neodoryx saw several unlit torches hanging on the sides of the walls. Rapidly, he sent out three small balls of electricity, each one lighting three torches before bouncing off the walls and lighting the rest. They honed in like accurate arrow shots before returning back to him. The room was now alit with the burning torches, leaving him to extinguish the light from his hand. It was now that he dropped the corpse on the slab and would begin his work in reviving him. Whatever this man Asteril had to say, he would finally give him that chance.
Kiru would've given a lot for a longbow. Almost surely outnumbered, on uncertain terrain? If only. He'd left his bow back and camp and returned to find it gone, along with the rest of their weapons. That meant these raiders might have them, but then again, it meant they probably had something worse.
Ha. He didn't feel panicked, though his heart had started to beat faster, a nearly audible shift that came with tension, like the mechanism catching in a gun. He squinted side to side, taking stock.
The fellow stumbling toward them looked dazed and ill-tempered and dumb as a rock. He'd put away his sling, so he wasn't a threat. Let Cabhadden handle him. Even she should be able to do that. Kiru, now, knew better than to pay attention to the man in the open. He took a careful step back, into the shelter of the tall black rock, and scanned the area to his right through the frame of his lashes. One, aiming a bow through a window. One of theirs? Couldn't be sure, but he saw the glint of metal. Another on the roof. Another behind a crumbling section of wall... no, two more. Four. Kiru nodded to himself.
"Ho, stranger!" he said at last, amiably enough, kicking himself forward from the rock. He put up his left hand, complete with crossbow, cocking it rakishly toward the sky. A gesture of peace. Slowly, carefully, he reached behind him, freed his helmet, and tossed it to the ground. He tugged his shield free from its place over his pack and held it loosely at arm's length, as though preparing to drop it.
"Han't seen a troop wearin' our colors, have you?" Kiru called, catching Tayr's eye for just a moment. The little raider stumbled to a halt and looked puzzled for a half-second. He glanced back over his shoulder.
It had been the right question to ask. He'd thought that if they had something to do with whatever'd happened they'd react quick. If not they might pause, thinking there was a troop about.
They didn't pause. Kiru had just enough time to whip his shield up, not in the direction of the little raider but toward the four he'd spotted before. Something hit it, an arrow by the sound, and Kiru took two running steps back to the shelter of the rock, aiming his crossbow over his shield. He loosed a bolt; it disappeared into the window where he'd spotted the archer earlier. Hit or miss, he couldn't tell. He slid another bolt into the bow, sheltering himself beneath his shield. This time it was easier. He stood in the shadow of the rock, sheltered by another fallen stone. His first bolt had missed, he saw now, but he loosed another and caught one of the raiders who'd been perched on the tumbledown staircase. Kiru heard his wet choking.
He'd just turned to spare a glance back at Tayr--idiot cunt she might be, but she was his soldier--when something big hit him sideways, knocking his shield aside. He went sprawling.
Shit. There were five. He didn't waste time grappling with the raider who'd landed on top of him. Long, dirty nails raked at his face, and he caught a glimpse of tangled hair and something metal, and then he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep them--had his knife out--stabbed at the outlaw's gut, low in his reach, where it wasn't expected--and ripped the knife upward--
[OOC: Long post is looooooong. Fight scenes are hard but I really got into it. ^^]
When Kiru caught her eye and asked that perfect question, Tayr swallowed hard and really, fervently, more than she ever had in her life, wished him wrong. But of course he wasn't. It would be too much to ask for luck to be on their side today.
She started after the poor little runner; the two of them were outnumbered enough without him possibly fetching more raiders after them. However, it turned out she didn't have much choice in the matter. As Kiru was otherwise occupied, the two men in the hut had taken the opportunity to go after her together. She found herself borne down upon by a huge man with a club and a less huge sword-wielder.
The first of the two to get within range was the sword-wielder, who she jabbed at to keep him at bay. While she was doing this, however, the club-wielder had gotten close enough to take aim. She stamped hard on his shin and as he stumbled he clubbed her in the knee for her trouble. The man with the sword was up close now too. She deftly changed her grip and bashed him in the chin with the shaft of her glaive. He reeled back. She turned to take care of the man with the club, who was launching another attack. She changed her grip again and swept her glaive low, tripping him. Now she gritted her teeth as she took two injuries at once. The man with the sword had recovered more quickly than she had anticipated, and dashed behind her. As she had moved to trip the man with the club, an archer had shot at her. It had very narrowly missed her neck, scoring a deep gash in her shoulder and...
Burying itself in the sword-wielder's eye.
What was that about luck again?
The man had been trying to stab her when he went down, and as he crumpled his sword made a shallow cut in the back of her thigh. She quickly calculated that without something to protect her from more arrows, she'd likely not survive much longer. She aimed a quick kick at the club-wielder to keep him on the floor a little longer, but the knee injury from earlier in the fight was worse than she thought and she went down too.
She pushed herself up with the butt of her glaive, grabbing the collar of the sword-wielder's shirt as she did so. She heaved him up, supporting the weight on her left shoulder and hip. The man with the club was up now too, but with only one opponent she would be much more effective. She backstepped as quickly as she could with her knee injury and macabre makeshift shield, to put some space between the two of them. At his first rush, she steeled herself and speared him through the throat. He survived just long enough to club her heavily in the ribs and down they both went.
She lay on the floor for a moment, winded and gasping. She pulled herself together and got unsteadily to her feet, keeping the corpse between her and the archers at all times. It already had an extra two arrows in it. With some difficulty, she retrieved her weapon from the second body.
Now she turned to see how her companion was faring. She couldn't see him at first, but soon spotted the brawl on the ground back by the rock. She hurried over, limping heavily in her left leg, to see if she could help. When she arrived the top body had stopped twitching. She nudged it with the toe of her left boot, then gave a harder push, wincing at the pain in her knee.
'All good here, Sarge?' she enquired, scanning the landscape from behind the corpse. She couldn't see where anyone else was and she hadn't been shot at in a little while. It was worrying.
What were they up to now?
It was as if the stone slab in the middle was causing the body to roast altogether though there were no physical signs of such that he could see. Instead the smell of putrid rotting flesh filled the antechamber. Over the course of time, he'd grown used to it, but not even that made the stench anymore pleasant. Working with the dead, like being an embalmer, was an acquired habit. And one Neodoryx had only recently been interested in. He wasn't an expert necromancer, but the skills he had developed would make due for the moment.
Neodoryx had already begun his work, pouring a salve into the crevice of the body's disastrously disfigured face, a salve that he had mixed together beforehand and had stored in a fold in his armor where it was easily concealed. The salve itself consisted of a number of herbs rare to the lands of Darken Vei but had salvaged over the course of his travels. What may have been needless hoarding to others was foresight to him. There was hardly a worse feeling than of not having something you would need at a given moment. The substance had no other practical purpose other than to achieve the one goal that might convince the body, once revived, to spill the knowledge of what happened here; knowledge that might even be the key to the temple.
The horrible mutilation of the flesh, of which his sights were quite accustomed to, seemed to be done on purpose. Nobody fixed their face like this unless there was some purpose to be achieved and whether that purpose was to become an object of terror to his surviving comrades or to keep the body's soul from finding peace even in the afterlife, Neodoryx was sure that what was happening here was beyond normal. Well, he just hoped that this man would have some of the answers he was searching for.
And now the summoning would commence. There really wasn't much to it. Though necromancy indeed was a complex art of magic with a plethora of profanities to be explored throughout, what he was doing was considered by many to be the basic definition of the practice. He'd already laid out the various tools needed for the ritual and was beginning to chant the words, summoning the spirit of the recently fallen man.
"Enkata ushuk mit e-ntomin'e dolak-ininminishin," he muttered incessantly all the while motioning his hands over the limbs and head of the cadaver, allowing contact to the spirit world, hoping that he was channeling the right spirit. The last thing he would want to have the wrong spirit in the wrong body. That would be useless for them on both ends. As he persisted to chant the words, feeling the pronunciation of them becoming easier and easier with every utterance, he felt his hands suddenly warm and when the final chant came upon him, he did the final step and shot out tendrils of electricity from his hands.
Abruptly the body of Asteril began to glow around his wounds, the minor ones closing and the others sealing as much as possible and ceasing to be a rotting stench, or at least abating what it could. And when the glow ceased, the body suddenly took in a sharp, deep breath, sucking in air as if it was its very first breath of life, and as if it was necessary at all. Though the corpse was brought back to life, there was little Neodoryx could do to remind him that he was, in fact, very dead. Asteril, restored with vitality, gasped and shot his one good eye open, the other socket devoid. "Good gods!" the revived body exclaimed in a very groggy voice. "Oi...got me one 'ell of a headache! Gods!" The corpse held the side of his torn head, obviously missing the spot where a portion of his head was partially caved in. Rubbing it gently, he tried to sit up and took a second glance at Neodoryx. "Hey! Who the hell are you!?"
This was to be expected. Neodoryx took a step back. "I woke you up. And if you don't shut up, I can put you back to sleep, permanently."
"You and what army!?" the corpse shot back haughtily.
"I don't need an army, Asteril. I'm Sereth, that's all you need to know. Now, I just need you to speak when prompted. Tell me what you remember most recently."
"That's not fair! And...wait! How do you know my name? What the hell does 'Sereth' mean? What am I doing here?"
"I will answer your questions when you answer mine. I suggest you start or this will be a very long afternoon."
"Course it's not. Get the hell back," Kiru grunted, shoving the body of his assailant away. He motioned Tayr toward the leeward shelter of the overhanging black rock. Just because their attackers had paused didn't mean they were safe. Not that he'd particularly mind watching Cabhadden get peppered with arrows for her stupidity, but he had no one else on this damn crag.
Something sticky dripped into one eye, and Kiru paused to swipe his forehead and eyes clean with the bottomside of one sleeve. His cheek stung in its wake; his attacker had clawed it and gotten in a knife-cut, deep enough to split the scar that already ran down his cheek. Oh, well. He looked down and realized blood--not his--had soaked through his jacket and trickled down inside his shirt, too. Oh well to that, too. He couldn't fix it now.
He grabbed the dead man by the front of his tunic and dragged him back, into the shelter of the standing stone. A quick, efficient search turned up a pair of curved, serrated daggers, a small stiletto blade. On second thought, he'd take the coins he'd found sewn into a false shirt seam. The man hadn't had a bow. Kiru cursed under his breath and rolled the body away. It smelled foul, and when it'd settled face-down, he caught the scent from the spreading pool beneath it. He'd gotten used to the shit smell of battle, but he still didn't like it.
Tucking his new knives into his belt, he scrambled to put his back to the rock as fast as he could. As he settled and began to wind his crossbow, he kept one eye on the woman soldier and the other on anyplace he might find their assailants. Where'd they gone?
Reinforcements, probably.
Fuck, Kiru did not want to die like this. Blowing out a breath, he shrugged out of his pack and pulled out his flint striker, a torch, and six small, thick glass bottles. He opened one, which wafted out the smell of harsh spirits, and poured a dribble into his palm. He scrubbed at his face, cleaning the cuts again. Then he started to make strips of his shirttail, using his knife to worry the fabric loose enough for tearing.
"So. Gimme a hand with these," he said at last, soaking the strip of cloth in liquid from the open bottle and stuffing it in another bottle, from which he'd pried the cork. "There'll be more, I bet you. If it gets really bad we may have to make a run and get in... there." Tight-mouthed, he jerked his head toward the temple.
[OOC: Sorry for the late reply. Got really busy without warning.
Also for some reason this post is shorter than usual. Sorry about that too. -_-]
Tayr sat heavily against the rock, propping the corpse-shield up next to her. She followed Kiru's lead and picked up the open bottle. She twisted to look at the back of her right thigh, ripped the already ruined fabric a little more and rubbed a small amount of liquid on the long shallow cut there. It wasn't bleeding much, but she'd bet money on the bandits' weapons being filthy.
She took a second bottle and glanced back at the temple. Truth be told, she'd actually much rather be in there right now than out here, no 'if things get bad' about it. She was injured and more poorly armoured than she'd like in the situation. And who knew how many of the enemy would be showing up when they returned?
'To my mind we should scarper now. E'en if they've not got help, there be more o' them than us. I shouldn't like to be 'ere when they pops up again.'
She stuffed a wad of alcohol-soaked cloth tightly into the bottleneck and put it on the ground, before taking a third bottle and wrenching out the cork.
'And besides, that fancy-lookin' feller's in there. We could have 'im use all them magics on someone as isn't us.' She let out one quiet chuckle and set down another readied bottle.