Advertise/Affiliate Other Forum Main Page The World Before You Play

A Shepard Without

Started by CyclicalCycal, December 31, 2016, 04:33:05 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

CyclicalCycal

Lxikim, from your resting place has sprung a seed of magic. Conceived by me, germinated for a deadly purpose. You used to dream of traitors, didn't you? Bathed in brown, and verdant green. I intend to destroy them now, and turn their groves into ruins.

It came to me like a proverb...fight a lamb with...a lamb.

We shall purge this sick colour with our grandest of sons. I shall name him...Frli

---


Cara sat, nestled into her father's inert and empty form. She was asleep. She had been doing this for at least a week. After Rin nearly killed her, she decided to find her way back to her father, so that she could stay with him until he woke.

He did not awaken the first day. Or the second, or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth, or the sixth, or the seventh.

Or the eighth.

She was hoping she would finally be reunited on the ninth, akin to how she was hoping the same thing on the first, second, third and fourth. It was a vain hope. It was an unlikely hope. It was her only hope she had left, the only thing she could cling to. Everything else felt like it had faded, somehow, and she was left alone.

Slowly, Cara opened her eyes, looking up to the dead, wooden thing that she proclaimed was her father. And she said, "G-good morning...father..."

And there was no response. She moved to go and hug him, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm here...why aren't you here?" She buried her head upon his chest, or chest plate, or whatever you would call his form. "Why aren't you here...?"

She stayed like this, for hours, before slowly rising to her feet. She had to explore, she supposed. Someone had to keep the golems in check.

---

Now, when Cara returned to her father's hollow and empty form, she was panting and wheezing and panicking. She staggered into the grove, glancing swiftly at everything that had surrounded them. "Father, wake up!" She begged, moving over to him, going to grab at him and attempt to shake him awake.

It failed. Mainly because he was too heavy for Cara to even move. She reeled around, slowly putting out her hands, and going to focus on the tree line. If she could just figure out where they were coming from, maybe-just maybe-she could catch them off guard and trap them within a tangle of vines and roots. She scanned the area, eye keenly hunting for anything she could use, anything she could discern.

She found nothing.

A bolt, gray and shifting with star-like patterns pierced from the undergrowth, striking Cara square in the chest, sending her reeling back onto the ground with a thump. "Be quiet, now, lamb..." someone...something called out, stepping into the grove. It was tall, and thin, and was void of all colours. It looked like a person, garbed in armour, a bright white light burning out from a small circle in its throat. "I don't...relish this..." it uttered, stepping closer to Cara, as she panicked, pushing herself up against the wall next to her father.

Medievarad

Whatever attacked Cara, wouldn't survive long. As soon as the grey projectiles went for her, a purple rune of the purest energy formed infront of her. An impenetrable barrier appeared infront of her,, though the impact would still send her back. But she was not hit.

And before her, stood a warlord. A tattered banner attached to the massive armour. A sword brandished and a facemask resembling an eastern demon to instill fear in the hearts of her foes. The warrior stepped forward and sliced down at the creature with extreme prejudice, aiming to split it from the shoulder down and diagonally to his hip.

All this happened in but a split second.

CyclicalCycal

The first thing that Cara did was scream.

The second thing that Cara did was scramble backwards, pushing herself further against the tree. She wheezed and panted, quickly going to grip at the ground, glancing down at it, her eyes suddenly lighting up. She bug her hand she outwards towards the thing that had just appeared, roots bursting from the ground and flinging themselves in its generally direction.

The colourless creature, on the other hand, was quite easily split in twain. It dissipated, bursting into a form made of ash, which slowly faded away on the wind, scattering itself all over the grove, dying with a long howl.

Medievarad

The roots bounced off of another one of those purple force fields, the same that had appeared in front of Cara to catch the grey thorns shot for her.

If the vines and roots settled again, the arcane shields would drop again. And Cara's mysterious defended would pull her mask off and glance over her shoulder.

It was none other than Rin.

But, a set of hooves resounded, galloping through the woods at a rapid pace. whatever it was, it was very heavy. And in the grove came charging the Sentinel, the massive axe raised in the air. "Tharron!" His voice boomed loudly. Cara might even recognize the creature as one of the more ancient allies of her father.

CyclicalCycal

Cara was not equipped to deal with this, screaming in fear at Rin and the sentinel.

Tharron was a bit busy being asleep to answer.

Regardless, Cara attempted to scramble over to her father, and move to hide behind him. This was literally impossible, she was unable to move him, and simply attempted to hide, panting and panicking and trying oh so swiftly to escape. Indeed, it seemed she believed that the two were monsters, something's it be feared and shunned.

Or, more likely, she was still panicking from nearly being killed by an actual monster.

Medievarad

Rin cast a glance over her shoulder at Cara, before shaking her head. She made her way to the entrance of the grove and started to put up paper charms and seals. To ward off or at least distract any kind of intruders.

The Sentinel glanced down at Cara and approached, lowering the axe next to him. He padded over towards Cara and kneeled down infront of her, resting his fist against his chest. "I am sorry, spawn of Tharron," he said.

It was then that she would notice the Sentinel would have energy similair to the wooden golems that Tharron created. Though, slightly different. And far more powerful. "I trust you are unharmed?"

CyclicalCycal

Cara stared up at the sentinel, blinking wearily. She nodded, rubbing at her good eye, still panting and rasping and afraid. She seemed to be gaining a form of instinctive trust of the Sentinel, likely due to her thinking it a highly advanced golem.

Then, something happened. Something that Cara would say is a miracle.

Slowly, but surely, the towering form of Tharron rose. The lights in its helmet lit up, and it glanced around the area, the well of green pooling up at the back of its helmet. He glanced around the area, remaining silent as he awoke.

Medievarad

The Sentinel inclined his, head as the dreamer awoke. "Tharron," he greeted, hand traveling up toat his chest to, rest it there in a sign of respect.

Rin, however, didn't react. It wasn't her place to, she merely proceeded to place wards and charms to secure the grove more.

CyclicalCycal

Cara turned her head to her father, eyes widening. She lit up, with joy and hope and all things good, going to rush over to him and give him a hug. "FATHER!" She got out, clinging to him tightly.

Tharron looked to the Sentinel, then to Rin, then to his daughter. He slowly went to stroke her hair, being careful with his every movements. "...greetings. Sentinel. It has been a very long while." He responded.

Medievarad

"It has been too long, Tharron," he replied, lowering his hand. "I hoped we had time to catch up and reminisce, but they are drawing near," he added. "Hence I came here as fast as my legs could carry."

He glanced over his shoulder at the woman, whi was etching runes in the ground, placing wards and paper seals still. "Who is this woman clad in cold metal and minerals?" He inquired with a soft frown.

CyclicalCycal

"That is Cara's friend..." He responded, as he moved to slowly pick up Cara, and set her on his shoulders. She was grinnnig, and waved to the Sentinel. "...my daughter. Her mother was the woman I introduced you to all those years ago..." a vague emptiness filled his voice, for a brief moment, before returning to a slightly more cheery, if grim, tone. "Yes, the colourless grow nearer."

He moved to raise his hand into the air, a sprig of wood bursting from the ground. It began to twist, growing and forming into some form of object, going from a chunk of wood to something usable.

Medievarad

The Sentinel glanced over his shoulder at the peculiar woman, before back at Tharron. Even with Cara on his shoulders, he still stood as high as she currently was. "I'm sorry," he answered, the deep and booming voice filled with sympathy. "A fight is drawing near. Are you ready?" He inquired as he backed up, frowning softly.

CyclicalCycal

"No. I thought...that as a scout. Not a first one of a more...competent...force..." Tharron boomed. The wooden thing formed into a mighty sword, twisted and gnarled, glowing with verdant power. He gripped it by the hilt, going to plant it into the ground and lean on it. "...give me a minute. I cannot fight. Not yet."

Cara glanced about the area. "...what's happening?" She'd ask, fear creeping into her voice.

Medievarad

"A scout or not, they know this is where we are," the Sentinel answered, stepping back from Tharron as he held the sword. "Take your time, friend. Myself and the human can hold out for quite some time," he glanced at Rin, who stood before the entrance to the grove, hand resting on one of the two blades on her hilt. The tattered, crimson banner slowly swaying behind her.

"A warrior without reputation wouldn't carry a banner in tatters for a house long fallen if her abilities were not of the highest caliber," he remarked, making his way over next to the arcane warrior.

CyclicalCycal

Tharron nodded, slowly. "I just...need to rest. Give me...a few minutes. If you give me all I need...I will not let them harm us. No. Not in my house."

Cara, then, did something peculiar. It was like her, though. Perhaps, not a big surprise. She slid down the back of Tharron, going to wander over to Rin and the Sentinel. As she did so, her father called out.

"Don't you dare. Get back here Cara."

She ignored him.

"Oh-I. Please. You don't have to help them-"

"But I wanna!" She replied, as she moved over to the two, grinning a determined grin. "You said there's no greater honour than to die fighting the bad things that's hurt nature..."

Medievarad

Rin and the Sentinel both glanced down at Cara as she joined them. The Sentinel didn't say a word, Rin however, was now more inclined to speak.

"Cara, it'd be useless to fight here. Both myself and this Sentinel are enough for now," she shook her head. "And there is no greater honour to die for your cause. Except if it is needlessly."

CyclicalCycal

"Okay..." Cara sounded disappointed.

"Yes, it would be dangerous. Please, return, little lamb." Tharron sounded more relieved than was humanly possible.

Cara decided to comply with her father, wandering back over to him. The treeline was dead, disturbingly so. No more were the sounds of the creatures, of the flora and fauna of the grand forest the group were within. It was silent.

Then, came a little whisper.

"Please. We just. Need. Colours. They sustain us. You would not deny a wolf...the flesh it needs to live. Would you?"

Medievarad

Rin rested her hand on the hilt of her katana, the mask hid her facial expression. The whisper reached her however and made her only sigh. "And if a wolf attacks another predator, it can expect being killed," she answered easily, taking a deep breath. "Cease your hiding. Approach." She commanded.

The Sentinel glanced down at Rin, nodding in agreement to her.

CyclicalCycal

"I do not relish this."

A spear, gray and metallic and in all ways thrown against itself, shifting and twisting as if its very existence was against the laws of reality was hurled from the shadows, aimed squarely at the Sentinel. Slowly, from the undergrowth, padded the wooden creatures that Cara had met before. They were drained of all colour, and every step they took sapped the colour from the grass. They mvoed with purpose, and without fear, as if they were mere puppets.

Medievarad

"You would do not underestimating your foes," she answered with a cold tone. The spear was slammed aside by the Sentinel's axe.

As the puppets rose, Rin slowly unsheathed her blade. But rather than charging forward, the armoured woman raised her free arm slightly. Holding a very thin wire up. "Because your troops walk into traps."

She flicked her katana towards the thread, cutting it.

And like that. Several seals around the puppets lit up, forming a field over them that increased nothing but gravity itself, aiming to crush them completely.

Tags: