Twilight of Old Magic - RP

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Within the forest, a human like being walks through. Twigs cracking under his feet. Though many would find it wise to be quiet among these woods, he need not fear anything. It was rather, the opposite. The creatures that prey, felt as if they were what they hunt around him. It would seem odd that a great beast would fear a man clothed in a black sorcerer robe with not a weapon in sight, until you stepped near him.

Hearing activity in another part, he was to dismiss it but knew he may regret not having gone. Most likely, someone was confronted with something they should not be. With a sigh, he changes direction toward the disturbance. As he walks along, the plants themselves retreat from him, almost as if they fear if he is to use combat.

He then arrives at the sight of the large feline, a sphere, and a woman. Seeing the beast snarl at the woman, he walks infront of her and confronts the feline.

 

Aidan slept blissfully, as if back in his mother's womb. Enclosed, warm, dark. Even a gentle rocking motion. He felt as if he had slept for a month. His muscles were beginning to cramp, and he stretched out his body fully, his hands and feet pushing at his enclosure, which bent with his pushing. Then suddenly, his left foot popped out of the enclosure, he wiggled it around, trying to pull it back in, instinctively feeling that it was a very bad idea for his foot to be exposed out there, but it would not come back in, try as he might.

The feline heard a strange popping sound. He turned one ear back to the big ball, while leaving the other focused on this disturbing new comer. He chanced a glance, and saw that the ball had grown an interesting appendage.

 

The moment she was no longer in direct line of cat's sight (and leap), Mora rammed Aidan's sword in the soil, as hard as she could, praying it doesn't hit any rocks.

New focus of attention for the cat was a good thing.
Mora being furious that she, Priestess of the Howling Dusk, baulked and froze at the sight of a *cat*, a mere mice-chaser... that was even better. Her Lord's magic thrived on anger.

She grasped the blade of the sword and slid her left hand down the metal, wincing as she cut herself. A few droplets of blood raced down, splashing at the soil.

"Life into you, like from you - part, good land, as Jarilo lies slain, and his rites sings the Wolfherder." - the priestess chanted under her breath.

Wherever blood fell, the soil around the blade softened, and the sword cut downwards, until it was buried almost up to the hilt.

"Aidan!" *she called out, hoping that the Celt could hear her, as she used her magic to send the blade in the direction of the sphere, ploughing swiftly through the soil, with just the hilt visible*

Mora hadn't calculated on rocks beneath the ground, though. The sword hit one, and driven by momentum, bounced up, over itself and slammed sideways straight into the side of the sphere.

The cat jumped slightly to the side, but swiftly turned back. The sphere now had a fairly large hole in it, with quite a few cracks.
The sword lay on the ground, right beside it.

 

Taking advantage of the distractions, Jyraika points his hand toward the feline, unleashing a powerful shockwave, startling it a great deal. "のろい火災" The sorcerer says within a deep voice, unleashing blue fire which did not burn, but rather focuses upon a point on the cat, creating a black spot upon the left front foot. "Fire Curse." He adds, translating what he had said earlier. Soon afterward, the blackness begins to spread, immobilizing the beast wherever it spread.

 

The huge cat was enraged. What was this horrid fire that froze its muscles? It burned so, yet was strangely cold. It tried again to jump free of the hold, only to rack its moveable parts against the frozen. It had a cunning idea, flicking the membrane over its eyes to see into the other place. There, the flames were not on its body, and there were none of the nasty spiders that sometimes surprised it in the other place.

It took a deep breath in, then exhaled a dark mist around its body. It stepped through the hole into the other place. At first it thought to just leave these intruders, especially the one who threw the cold fire, but then it glanced towards the big ball with the foot sticking out. It was moving quite intriguingly, and the cat's curiousity was picked, it stepped out of the other place right next to the ball.



Aidan had heard Mora's cry and seen his his sword coming to him. Somehow he managed to get his right arm out of the sphere, grab onto his sword and pull it out of the ground. He was working on getting his head out of the growing hole in the sphere when a large black shape materialized right in front of him.

If he would have rationally thought about it, he probably would have realized that sticking his sword into the cat's haunches, while he was still stuck mostly in the sphere, was really not the best idea, but he didn't think, he instinctively struck out at the closest target he could hit from his constricted position, and got a good four inches of blade into the cat's thigh.

"YEEOWWW!" the huge cat snarled, and batted the now dangerous ball thing with a massive paw.

The sphere flew five yards before hitting a boulder. There its substance melted into the shadows, leaving Aidan flopping on the ground. He quickly stood up and went into a defensive stance, but just as quickly fell to his knees. He was still rather woozy, and flying through the air and hitting boulders, cushioning sphere not withstanding, was doing nothing to make him feel better. He managed to get up on one knee, bracing himself against the boulder with his free hand, and keep his sword pointed toward the bleeding cat, which was slowly slinking in his direction. He wouldn't be able to dodge as well from this position, but it seemed to be the best he could do just now.

He really wished he were able to turn invisible, but such workings had never been his fortee.

 

Thrown off balance by the backlash of the broken sword spell, Mora felt her wrists ache horribly.

"Apologies, Master Celt. Farming is not my domain." *she moved to the side, trying to keep her footing on the slipery rocks, and turning in time to see the sphere dissolve*

Some of the cat's mist still lingered in the air, carrying the faintest scent of river clay. Path-magic smelled like that, but there was just one place Mora could call forth to shield - and she was not sure what Aidan would do if he felt it.

Vaed would know... she pushed the thought back. It was not her place to feel sorrow.

"This will sound mad, but you are not dying!" *Mora yelled to her companion*

"Shroud." The gates of the Wolf Lord's realm opened behind Aidan, and thick chilling air crept out, seeking to wrap him in the gate and place him in both places at once. His torque suddenly glowed, and wherever the cloak of deathrealm touched it, air turned to ash, and the shield peeled back.


Mora hoped Aidan wouldn't look back. The new companion was already facing the shield - and she wondered if he had taken a human life before. It made all the difference when gazing at her lord's domain.


On the ridge to the east, a fire burst to life - then another, and a third, a little further. One by one, pearls of flame crowned the horizon - and just as swiftly, one by one, they died out.

 

Not fazed by the anger of the feline, he unleashes another attacking spell. This however, was a blizzard of red ice. though it would seem to be rather high in temperature, it was more cold than the freezing of life itself.

Catching a glimpse at the unknown gate, he looks at it again, but realizes it is not unknown. "Thy shall not take any but the beast, or ye shall face essence of death sable." Is said by this master of forbidden arts. His eyes glow a strange red, as if he himself was in command of that realm.

 

Aidan felt a cold, cold wind lap eagerly at his back. Faint whispers slipped by his ear, urging him to turn around, and meet his approaching death face to face, but he heeded Mora's warning, and did not turn.

The cat was suddenly hit by a storm of red ice, and yowled miserably. It must have thought that Aidan was the sorce of its misery, for it hunched low, then sprang at him, with a crackling of ice.

Aidan dropped flat on the ground, and the cat flew over him, the whispers turning to a sucking wind sound and the cat's yowl fading into infinity. Again, Aidan heard the whispers through the cacaphony, inviting him to turn, and join them, where all eventually journeyed to, yet he shut his eyes tight, and wished he could shut his ears as well.

Then there was silence. Aidan pushed himself up off the ground, black ash falling from his shoulders as he did so. He looked at Mora and the stranger, "Thank you kindly. How long was I in that thing? Did we lose the Spirit Hound's trail? Where is Vidar?"

 

Mora turned around, looking for the tall Norse.

"I thought he had followed... Strange. Perhaps this place mislead him." *Mora frowned, then looked up, at the sky. The stars had been twisted out of their normal routes, but the hide of the sky was the same.

"It has not been long. At least time thaws as it should here. We are still in the same night, Master Celt. I don't know about the hound, though."



A chirpy, irritated voice booms out from the boulders.

"Now you've gone and done it, Bonespines. That mutt woke up half the neighbourhood. And not the nice half, mind you..."

A second voice joins the first.

"What is...? Hey, humans, get your muddy boots of *my* river bed! Just because I've run dry and gone underrock, doesn't mean that any wandering fleshling can stomp around my home. Out, out, over the ridge with you."

A slight shimmer shakes the ground.

"Who drowned and left you the throne of waterways?..."
"Go back to your swamped up lake, rusalka."
"Fine. You are hardly a home." *an underground equivalent of door slamming is heard*

 

A sigh escapes him as the beast is dragged into the gates of death. "Ye shan't take this soul, no matter thy will." He says to the vanishing gate. Looking to the ground, he notices the slight tremors and the end of the argument of spirits.

"Ye needn't thank me. I protect tranquility with my will." The sorcerer of old says to the one from the sphere. He closes his eyes and breathes deep, calming the air around him.

 

Felin was at a loss. The Sorcerer (if that was indeed what he was) had shown himself to be skilled in the old ways...the most skilled practitioner he had ever seen in fact. And he was so young to be so skilled.

"Who are you boy? And where did you learn the art with such skill? I've never seen the like in all my years."

 

Turning to Felin, the dark sorcerer looks upon him with eyes ever so calm. "So ye know of ancient times. Thy sight is far beyond what this one had first seen." Jyraika replies, a slight smile crossing his face and his eyes showing slight emotion. "A learner of speed I am, magick running through me veins, and the intention of heroes allow me to prosper." He explains to the one across from him. He then holds a hand toward a tree, turning it black, but not killing it.

 

Aidan's head was still fuzzy from the poisoned arrows, and the feeling and talking of death magic made him even more unsettled. Action was the best cure for that.

"Maybe we can catch up to the Spirit Hound, and hopefully Vidar is on its trail, so we may find him there." As if in answer, far down the valley, a mournful baying started. Aidan sheathed his sword and started down the dry creek bed.

 

"There was no cause in this, no reason." *Mora touches the blackened bark* "To flail your magic around, without giving it purpose, the true edge of blades - there is no better way to run out of power - like a boastful cloud that spends itself in threats of thunder - but has no rain - and no use in the world." *the priestess looks at the boy*
"You are far stronger now then I will ever be, and yet... I shall pray to the Wolf Herder to give me purpose to meet your magic with mine. The Lame One will not regret it." *Mora bows politely to the newcomer and follows Aidan*

Up ahead, behind the ridge, the dried creak slumps downward and empties into a large lake - overgrown with sickly looking reed. On top of it, dozens of islands break the still, murky water. Some are weighted down with upturned obelisks, and they seem to have no soil, but the dead mass of moss keeping them afloat. The shores are mostly reddish mud, as the water recided.

The hound growls at the edge of the water, then barks and plunges in, swimming resolutely to a fixed point, somewhere on the other side.

"Well, at least it's not running water. That would be a problem."

 

The tree he had turned black then bears a strange fruit, one falling into the grasp of this young sorcerer. Taking a bite of it, obvious it was that it gave him energy for the air around him seems to come to life. Deciding to follow them, he also comes to the edge of the lake. Rather than remain stationary, he begins to walk along the surface of the water ahead of them.

 

A cracked up old boat emerges from behind an island and glides towards Felin, Aidan and Mora, seemingly without any effort. There is a wicket cage on board, with dozens of fireflies fluttering inside and a tattered fisherman's net dragging in the wake of the boat - torn to useless shreds, at best.
The man rowing looks about as old as the obelisks around him.

"Ah, visitors? Looking to cross, are you? Won't find much on the other side though, not a hand left in Fe'eldhyne." *the man lingers on the verge of arrow range, observing them curiously and apparently, waiting for a reply.

There are ripples on the water around the boat. If she really tries, Mora has the haunting feeling of seeing footprints on it, upside down, like someone were walking on the surface of water from beneath, letting only the soles of their bare feet get exposed to air above.

 

Felin looked the man over with a growing sense of unease. He was beginning to think they had not quite made it "back" from their trip through Fairy.
"I doubt anyone who attempts to swim this river will reach the other side. If fact I doubt they'd manage to get 4 feet. Tell me elder what would your price be to ferry us across the river? I have a feeling you have one."

 

The old man laughs to himself and the laugh rattles the boat, setting ripples across the water.

"I'm a fisherman, not a ferry, stranger - but if you want to cross, I'll take you there, for nothing more then the conversation. Just keep your hands out and your eyes of the water. With the waterways shifted, some of the lake folk are getting desperate to leave."

He rows the boat to the shore near you. The boat looks strange close by - made not of wood, but of thousands and thousands crushed walnut shells merged together.


Mora couldn't swim to save her own life. The thought of getting stranded mid-lake in a vessel that was literally a nutshell brought her no joy - yet she had no desire to stand in the mud all day, either. She glanced at Aidan and Felin.

"The other side has to be better then this."



Ahead, where the drifting islands start, a hand rises from the water, grabs the ankle of the waterwalking sorcerer and tries to drag him under. Several more lash out around him.

 

Touching the tip of his staff to the water, he unleashes a most powerful lightning spell, followed quickly by thunder in which was so great it created ripples with the mere sound. "Those whom have passed on have not the right to tamper with those who have yet to." The dark sorcerer says as if explaining to the ones below him. He then walks to the boat, but does not get in. He simply stays by the side of it, should it be ambushed. However, the boat seemed odd to him. Looking it over, he realizes only one can make a boat of this type. "So thy has not come to pass this life have ye?" Jyraika says to the fisherman with eyes of memories.

(Would you mind if I were to relate this Fisherman to the character of mine, Jyraika?)