Today is of the Cycle Of The Seventh Moon.
Current Season & Month:  , Year: 543 A.R. (ref)

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Hidden Garden Clearing [Estate Grounds - North]


Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  
 
(Syltamul)HiddenGardenClearing(EstateGrounds)

Hidden Garden Clearing


This colorful hidden clearing is one of the many secret gardens peppered around the Estate Grounds.  The clearing is located somewhere near the Northern part of the Estate Grounds, with no pathways leading to or from the clearing to give any indication that it even exists.  This beautiful hidden area has been the location of many an impromptu tryst, when two willing participants have accidentally stumbled upon it during one of the many parties hosted at the estate.

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  

DAETH

Death Angel & Bearer of the Mark

╺ ✽ ╸ 

“That seething ball of death to the North? Totally suss, has my vote.”

 

[OOC: from the Heart of the Hedge Maze]

 

Not even a whisper marks his passage as Daeth steps out from a deep strip of shadow beneath a willow tree, shifting from incorporeal to corporeal as easily as one draws air into their lungs.  Right before he regains full physicality, however, there’s a faint ping, like a ripple at the farthest edge of his awareness.  It’s distant and oblique at best, and too far for him to glean anything more than the knowledge that somewhere far from here - very far - reality has shifted.  There’s nothing the Death Angel can do about something so far away, and so puts it out of his mind almost as soon as the ripple fades.

 

Daeth’s pretty much forgotten about the shift in reality to the very distant North-East of him, his mind occupied with his current quandary: the seething mass of Death to the immediate North of the Kingdom Bridgeways.  He wants to go and look into it himself, but the Masquerade Ball is practically upon them and the Syltamul Estate is a busy place right now.  It seems like that should be the perfect time for him to slip away for a bit, but as he’s the “guest of honor”, his missing presence would be very much noticed.  He sighs a little, pushing his fingers through his dark hair as he stands there, thinking for a moment.  

 

His bright purple eyes glow for a moment as a thought strikes him.  Could work…wouldn’t get much information, but it’d glean something he muses to  himself.   With a snap of his fingers, Daeth calls forth a line of shadows, which detach themselves from the treeline and slink forward like waiting hounds.  He eyes them for a second before jerking a thumb towards the north.

 

See what you can find out,” he commands.  “There’s something happening to the North of the Bridgeways - I want to know what.  Go and take a look and report back.”  The shadows slither forward, touch his feet, and then melt away to do as he bid.   Daeth turns to look North, seeing far beyond the line of trees which mark the edge of the estate grounds.  His irises are lost in a glow of purple light for a moment, before the brightness fades.  

 

He turns away after another moment or two of quiet contemplation, and walks out of the clearing, heading back towards the Syltamul Estate to help with the Masquerade preparations.  

 

[OOC: Daeth back to Syltamul Estate]

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 754
 

A Shadowy Figure

From: A faint and fading magickal trace to Naith Tuulin

A sudden gust disturbed the ground of the estate. Had any witnessed it, they would have noted the whirlwind for its localized intensity. Dust and debris were pulled into vortex until they formed a short thick colum. 

The thing that coalesced from this skirl of detritus was a colorless uniform grey. It would remain the same hue even when it passed the lamps of the stables or the torches and braziers set out to illuminate the outdoor festivities. Though without color, it was not without shape. The figure stood as the shape of a tall hunchbacked man. Closer inspection would show the knot upon the figure’s back to be folded ashen wings, and part of its height to be a lightless halo wrapped in hooked and barbed wires that also curled around crown, neck, torso and the celestial's appendages.

The figure moved silently through the night, traipsing from place to place around the estate grounds, performing some act in the darkened corners of the nighttime gardens and lawns. In one place it drew a sword, an ashen echo of the tonden’s actual silver blade, and clove a post apart. In another place it smashed an ornate grating with inhuman strength. In yet a third location it ripped a rosebush from the ground, paying no heed to the thorns piercing its skin of grey ash.

One by one the shielding sigels were broken, knocked askew, smeared, and destroyed.


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Wynterleaf
(@wynterleaf)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 96
 

Eddellyn Wynterleaf

[OOC: from The Grand Tiered Ballroom [Syltamul Estate]]

Concealed in the shadows behind a carefully manicured shrub, Wynterleaf remained crouched beneath the window for a long moment as she scanned the night. Thankfully, none of the guests had thought to escape to this end of the Estate so she didn’t have to contend with panicked or drunken party-goers; the immediate area appeared to be empty. But she hadn’t imagined the disturbance in the shadows at this end of the hall nor the discordant repetition of thought that stood out from the rest. There was something here. 

Crack. Break. Destroy.

Instructions specific to the sigils or the Estate in general?

A frown pulled at her forehead as she debated opening her mind to freely search once more through the ether but Wynterleaf judiciously decided to close herself off from others again. It had nothing to do with the pulling ache that gathered behind her temples and more with the fact that leaving her mind open to listening for others would leave her equally vulnerable. It was one of the trade-offs of the ability but she feared she was out of practice with the mindspeak and would be easily detectable to whatever threats lurked on the Estate.

She shifted her position, ready to leave the security of her hiding spot. She had been wearing her cloak coiled across her back like a backpack and reached to silently unwind the fabric to spread it across her shoulders. The cloak was of Elven make, which meant it was high-quality and expensive, and the dark grey fabric shimmered faintly in the moonlight as it draped over her form, camouflaging her among the shadows. While the covering wasn’t magical, the fine material blended between light and shadow, perfectly suited for stealth; the expense of owning such a cloak was not one that Eddellyn had ever begrudged.

A hand on the hilt of her sword, she held the weapon close to her side not wanting the glint of silver to betray her presence as she sidled along the pathway, flitting between the hedges and shrubs. Her furtive steps were catlike as she cleared the first garden and moved to the next and the next. Crouched alongside a bush covered with pale fragrant flowers, she cocked an ear, straining for a hint of movement.

The area around her was silent with a completeness that was out of place, like a void swallowing all noise, not even the song of crickets broke the quiet. Something other than herself was trying very hard to remain hidden. In the far distance, she could pick out the noise gigantic demon that had toppled on the other side of the gallery as it slithered around with a series of distant cracks and rumbles, destroying the gardens and exterior façade. The grating sound of its’ voice filled the air more than once but the deep tenor made it impossible to discern individual words to know what it said. Not the type that believed in prayers, Eddellyn nonetheless made a swift petition to her ancestors to watch over Daeth.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was responsible for bringing this danger down on the Estate. In her search to find out what’d happened in Kiana, she had brushed aside and disregarded the repeated warnings everyone had given her - especially the one to watch herself at the Syltamul Estate. Perhaps if she let the trail go cold after uncovering virtually no leads on her arrival in Ufaeria, they wouldn’t now be in this mess. But then, if she had, she would never have run into Daeth.

Only time would tell if they would come to regret the reunion but Eddellyn had to hope that it would help heal some of the hurt and misconceptions they both had carried with them over the years. If something happened to him because of her actions in the Bridgeways, she wasn’t certain she would be able to recover from losing someone she cared for again.

Her eyes narrowed. It wasn’t going to come to that.

She knew that Daeth was more than capable of handling the large demon that had crashed the masquerade, the power he wielded more than sufficient to dispatch the monster. Even with the pain inflicted by the Brand, he had acted quickly and decisively against Slann, even if that bitch left before any permanent injury could be dispensed. (Not that Eddellyn was upset about it, she wanted to be the one to deliver a mortal injury to the daemon.)

Eddellyn breathed shallowly through her nose and concentrated on relaxing her muscles and body to slow her rising heart rate.

No.

He may sustain a scrape or two in the process but Daeth would succeed in dealing with Maarazaar.

Meanwhile, she could ensure there were no more surprises waiting in the night. If she could track and disperse whatever had destroyed the wardings that protected the Estate, they could restore the safeguards to their full effect.

With that bolstering thought, Wynterleaf continued her exploration of the northern gardens and without realizing it, she'd moved farther and farther away from the main buildings, until she found herself in the small clearing of a secret garden. It was a beautiful setting for a secret rendezvous with a pair of benches sat among the rose bushes and meticulously trimmed topiaries, and the air was sweetly scented with night blooms. Somewhere in the darkness, a trickle of water gurgled from a small brook. Off the beaten path, the area was completely obscured from passersby, but it was that same remoteness that had Wynterleaf feeling uncomfortable. 

Not wanting to be caught unaware, she pressed close to a slender tree trunk and freed her sword as she intently watched the clearing for several long minutes. But it was much the same as the other gardens in this area she had explored - oppressively silent. She hovered indecisively ready to move on but her instincts were urging her to wait a bit longer before resuming her search. Several long beats passed. Almost ready to give up, her patience was rewarded as the shadows opposite of her elongated and thinned into an amorphous grey blob that coalesced into a shape of its’ own.

At first glance, the form appeared to be that of a man, his back hunched over with age or a malformed spine but as she watched, the shadowy figure became more defined in shape and she began to pick out details.

A lightless halo sat atop its’ head and was wrapped in split wire and barbs that curled a path around the head, down the torso, around the limbs, binding the creature’s body. Wynterleaf could see now that the hump formed over the back were in fact wings, the colorless appendages also brutally twined in the same manner. The wire formed a merciless cage around the shadow, tightened to such a degree that the sharpened edges dug into flesh and pierced the skin, oozing blood that had long ago turned to black ichor.

 

Spoiler
OOC:
Post split for readability, Part 1 of 2


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Wynterleaf
(@wynterleaf)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 96
 

Eddellyn Wynterleaf

Feä raugo.

Wynterleaf soundlessly mouthed the name. She had heard stories of the one-time angels that had fallen to darkness. Celestial beings of noble good that were fouled and twisted for another purpose, their alignment subverted for so long that they became a Shade.

Her muscles froze in place as she watched it, wanting to see what the fallen angel turned to the Estate but it only trailed through the garden, pacing the same route - twenty-eight steps - back and forth. It behaved as if waiting for something, its head turned side-to-side only occasionally and it seemed to have little interest in what was happening toward the house itself.

Wynterleaf’s lips drew thin.

If the tales were true, a fallen angel was not an easy opponent to face one-on-one. Her sword was Elven silver and while maybe effective against the angel, her best chance was to take it by surprise and hope that the advantage of catching it unaware would work in her favor.

Not even daring to breathe, she began to circle the garden in a stealthy start-stop movement to avoid discovery. Progress was slow but at last, she was flanked alongside the end of the fallen angel’s circuit and huddled low along the base of a tree, hidden in the dark, her eyes never once straying from the Shade.

At the moment it turned its back toward her, Eddellyn rushed from the shadows. Her booted feet were a blur as she sprinted the short distance to the creature, using a nearby decorative rock to help her parkour off the edge of a bench, her sword angled in a downward strike at the creature’s back.

But the once-celestial was perhaps not as unaware of her presence as she believed.

With a whoosh of displaced air, it flicked out an ashen wing with a burst of detritus as it spun away to avoid Wynterleaf’s attack. The wan light caught on the edge of her sword as it curved upward but it fell short of her intended target, the center of the creature’s back. Instead, it sliced through the tendons and bone of a wing, carving a jagged laceration through the limb so that it hung askew though did not sever it completely from the body. Fresh black ichor seeped from the wound and dripped onto the ground, the grass and flowers the dark substance touched quickly withering and dying.

The hollow of the fallen angel's eyes turned skyward as it threw its’ head back in a scream of agony. It was noiseless and while no sound emerged from the creature, Wynterleaf felt a terrible shock of energy pass through her, the sensation not unlike fingernails scraping over slate, and she gave an involuntary shiver of dread.

She had scored a blow and her body still in motion, sprung back a step from the celestial as it blindly swung its silvered blade in her direction. She deflected the attack with her sword, pushing the blade away, but she hadn’t quite moved out of reach to avoid the downward arc of the Shade’s blade as it caught the side of her leg, the tip slicing through her breeches and drawing a shallow cut down her outer thigh. Air hissed between her teeth in shock but she didn’t slow, her sword in hand with the counterattack.

Dodge. Block. Parry. Repeat.

The high-pitched whine of metal scraping against metal filled the courtyard as the pair engaged in the violent dance of swords.

Eddellyn braced her right arm against her left, matching her full strength against the Shade’s sword arm. A minimum of space separated their bodies and her senses were overwhelmed with the unpleasant moldering scent of decay and burned atmosphere.

Her lips peeled back from her teeth in a grimace as she spat out the words, “Who sent you here, Feä raugo?”

There was no response and it was only then that she fully noted the Shade’s mouth was sealed, sewn, and bound similarly to the rest of its’ body. Wynterleaf hardened at the sight, at this point, killing the creature could almost be considered a mercy.

It took all her energy and concentration to maintain her stance against the empyrean superior strength, so she was unprepared for the blackened hand that shot out to grip her by the throat. The fingers tightened, squeezing her airway closed until black spots started to form at the edges of her vision. Wynterleaf did the only thing she could and retaliated by using her right arm to aim blows at the celestial’s face, hitting it with all the strength she could muster.

Focusing her attention on the temple, her body twisting in the Shade’s grip, as she repeatedly struck the same spot but it did little to deter the creature. Starved for air, her lungs burned and Wynterleaf realized was in serious danger of passing out. In a last-ditch effort to free herself, she twisted again this time to move her right arm to the clasp of her cloak to release the garment.

The action gave the Shade a momentary advantage and leverage on its sword arm. With a huge surge of power, it crashed the hilt of its sword toward her left shoulder, the pounding blow crushing down with a force to shatter bone. The impact nearly caused Wynterleaf to drop her sword as her fingers went nerveless but miraculously she maintained her grip and kept her senses about her long enough to swing her right arm through the folds of her cloak and yank it forward in a sharp motion to throw it over the celestial’s head.

Though disconcerted, it wasn’t enough to cause the fallen angel to release its’ grip on her throat. The one good wing flapped frantically as it tried to shrug free from the cloak but the material tangled and snagged on the sharp edges of the wire, serving only to encase the Shade more securely. Effectively trapped, the creature finally released its grip on Eddellyn's throat and used its free hand to claw at the bindings.

Eddellyn gasped on a huge intake of air, ignoring the pain wracking her body as she disengaged from the Shade in a wrenching motion to drop and tuck-roll to the side, coming up on her feet immediately in an unsteady motion, once more at the Shade’s back.

The Shade was scrabbling to remove the wrapping with one hand, while the other still blindly swung the sword in large arcs no longer certain where Wynterleaf stood. In the precious few seconds she had before the Shade was free, Wynterleaf aimed a strong kick first at the back of the Shade’s knee before bringing it directly down on the ankle, forcing it to a stumble only slightly before she brought her sword up and leaped onto the celestial’s back. She caught her sword through the barbed wire and hooks, twisting the blade through the wire and pulling it back quickly before leaning in to drive the blade into the space between the wings. It was only through a dint of will that she pierced through the flesh, putting her full weight behind the thrust to topple them both to the ground, and didn’t let up until she felt the tip of her sword push through the other side into the soil.

Pinned to the ground, the celestial spasmed as the muscles and tendons of the creature seized, arching taut. The clearing was eerily silent except for the scrape of gravel and Eddellyn’s panting breath, the image of fallen angel and elf at odds with the serene setting of the hidden garden. Wynterleaf for her part was not satisfied the sword thrust was enough to kill the celestial, so bent herself to grind her boot down on the Shade’s hand that still gripped its corrupted blade. Maintaining pressure until the sword was freed, she pulled back on the celestials forehead with her right wrist, uncaring that the barbed wire of its halo cut through the layers of fabric that separated them, the scar tissue of her arm leaving her with little feeling regardless, and stretched it’s head back to expose the pale, colorless column of its throat. Without hesitation, she drew the fallen angel’s own blade across its’ neck slashing deep enough to send a new spray of black muck onto the pathway, the remnants of its decayed life force spilling onto the stones.

She remained positioned over the back of the Shade, a boot braced against its back where her sword still pinned it to the ground and an arm around the head until the twitching ceased. When she straightened she saw that some of the black fluid had spattered onto the back of her hand and edge of her sleeve, so she quickly swiped the offending liquid away with a torn edge from her cloak from where it lay twisted about the Shade. Her skin was washed pale in the moonlight and she hoped there would be no ill effects from the ichor.

The surge of adrenaline that had coursed through her body was quickly draining and the damage she sustained in the fight was fast making itself known. The pain in her left shoulder felt severe, the edge of her clavicle felt hot and throbbed with each beat of her heart, she’d be lucky if it wasn’t broken. She attempted to lift her arm but she could not even lift it partway before the excruciating pain had her stomach turning over and her dropping her arm back to her side with a whimper.

Wynterleaf had no energy to toss the fallen angel’s sword out of reach as she stepped off the Shade’s back, moving only a couple of feet before she collapsed to her knees onto the pathway.

She just needed a moment to catch her breath and restore some energy before heading back to the ballroom. There wasn’t much she could do to help Daeth in her current state but she needed to see for herself he was okay. And then maybe get Travion to set her arm in a sling.

Her surroundings faded to a pinpoint as her eyes shuttered and she crumpled forward with a muffled groan.

A minute. She just needed to rest a minute, no more than sixty seconds. Then she’d get up and find the others.

Her fingers curled into the earth reflexively, unintentionally seeking the comfort she recognized just beyond reach.

Hmm... the grass was so cool against her face. A mo... and she blissfully lost her hold on consciousness.

 

Spoiler
OOC:
Post split for readability, Part 2 of 2


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Wynterleaf
(@wynterleaf)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 96
 

Eddellyn Wynterleaf

- with Lord Travion Winterlow lending aid -

Darkness receded as Wynterleaf regained awareness of her surroundings, the events of the masquerade, Daeth, and the battle with the fallen angel flooding back through her mind. There was no way to know how long she had been unconscious, so remained still listening for any signs of movement in the area, wondering if something had woken her. Not sensing anything nearby, she slit an eyelid and peered into the night. The garden was much as it had been before the Shade appeared, calm and noiseless.

To her left lay the body of the Feä Raugo, a heap of tangled limbs much the same as it had been when she passed out. At least it was still down, she hadn’t been certain if she had delivered a killing blow - was still uncertain it would remain down - at least it had been removed as a temporary threat if it did have the ability to revive. It allowed her to disregard a bit of caution, so she rolled to her knees with a muted groan and drew up into a sitting position.

The pain in the collarbone was less, a spike of agony no longer pierced through her body, it had waned to a dull pulse and pinch in her shoulder. The brief time she had lain unconscious, clutching at the earth, had recouped a bit of her vitality - her mind didn’t like to think why that was - though when she tried to make a fist, only the outermost fingers responded. It would require time and rest, if not a healer before she could be considered anything close to a hundred percent.

The air was punctuated with her soft exclamations and sharp inhales as Wynterleaf rose to her feet, a slow and clumsy process as she avoided putting any weight on her left side. Straightened, she examined the rest of her condition. The cut on her outer thigh was a minor scrape in the scheme of things, even if it stung, a bit of salve would do wonders once she got her hands on some - likely the house staff would be able to provide  a jar once she returned inside. Salve would also help her hand where the black ichor from the fallen angel had touched, the skin was reddened but it could be ignored for now as there appeared to be no lasting damage.

Cautiously, she approached the body of the fallen angel and planted a boot to its back as did her best to pull her sword from the body, hooking her right arm under the hilt to give leverage. Wiping the blade clean on an edge of cloak, the garment thoroughly entangled within barbed wire and limbs, she sheathed the sword and turned to head back toward the estate.

Despite her condition, she was able to retrace her steps back through the gardens with a similar level of stealth as she had before. Alert for other obstacles, not believing that the Shade had acted alone, Wynterleaf was prepared for the faint grind of boots on gravel and froze in the deeper shadows to wait expectantly. Her hand inched toward her sword even though she recognized it was a useless action, there was no way she could wield it again. So she held her breath, her hope to remain concealed until the threat passed.

But as the figure stepped beneath a natural flower arch formed by grapevine between the trees, she saw that it was no threat at all. Framed in a beam of moonlight momentarily, was the slightly disheveled Lord Travion Winterlow as he flanked the middle gardens, her dagger still in his hand and his gaze scanning the clearing. He was being very quiet, astute enough to not go crashing through the grounds, and Wynterleaf was glad she had judged the ability and skill of the elven noble accurately. However, she wasn't as glad that he had wandered so far from the ballroom.

Travion, I thought I asked you to watch Daeth’s back.” Without preamble, Wynterleaf took a step out of the shadows and quietly called to him, her tone brittle with restraint.

The elven lord’s head swung in her direction and he was immediately by her side, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe and unable to stop his gasp of surprise at her appearance.

“Wynterleaf! Are you alright?!”

Her stance relaxed, in truth, she was too worn to maintain a rigid posture and if she admitted it, she needed him to give her a hand. “A far sight from your date at the beginning of the evening, I’d dare to say.”

Travion stuck the dagger in his belt and his hands hovered about her, uncertain if she was willing to be touched but wanting to provide help.

“My arm needs to be put in a sling, if you could help me…” She trailed off as she glanced at herself and then Travion, neither of them had anything to serve as a sling. So, she unfastened her belt, freeing both her sword and the pouch that contained her few last possessions, a few coins and her journal. After a lengthy pause, she reluctantly passed everything over to the other elf. “Would you hold these for me, please? They aren’t going to be much use to me at the moment.”

She contemplated Travion with a thoughtful look as he secured the items to his person without comment. Though he had lighter coloring than Wynter, his hair tawny blonde and not deep blue-black, nor was he as tall, she didn’t have to tip her head back as far to look him in the eye, he reminded her in many ways of her lost partner. Trav didn’t push her to be someone she wasn’t or judge her for who she was; he was also very independent in his actions, not looking for approval from anyone else. They also shared a calm patience that never failed to soothe her anxieties. Perhaps that was the reason she found herself innately trusting the noble.

In very low tones, she said, “You now hold more of my belongings than anyone else, including myself.” Saying those words aloud caused a physical pang in her chest. 

“I’ll treat them as I do Triggerfeet,” The edges of Travion's eyes crinkled as he attempted a reassuring smile.

Wynterleaf huffed a soft laugh, that was all he needed to say; her things were safe with him.

“Now we just need to secure the belt, like so.” She’d wrapped her left wrist in the leather and settled her arm across her chest, allowing Travion to loop the belt over her head to fasten in the back of her neck. The improvised sling helped to take the weight of her arm off her shoulder and relieved the pull on her collarbone.

They both breathed a soft sigh of relief when the task was done.

“It’s the best that can be done until a healer can examine it.” Travion said.

"Is Maarazaar still threatening the ballroom? We need to get back and ensure it's still secure. Quickly and quietly.” Wynterleaf added a bit unnecessarily. 

Travion's mouth twisted in a grimace and he avoided eye contact. "I don't know about the creature; I left not long after you." 

Concern and need to know how Daeth fared spurred Wynterleaf and she picked up the pace. 

 


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  

DAETH

The Bearer of the Mark

╺ ✽ ╸

“Fighting battles is like courting girls: those who make the most pretensions and are boldest usually win.” 

 – Rutherford B. Hayes


[OOC: from the West Garden Gazebo (Estate Grounds WEST)

Battle w/Maarazaar - pt.2/3

 

Daeth phased back into view high above the Hidden Garden Clearing, hovering for a moment as he tilted his face up, tracking the path of the meteor that’s due to enter the upper atmosphere any second now.  And when the giant hunk of rock did, it certainly made its presence known.

The pock-marked rock entered the upper atmosphere with a sound that rent the air with the suddenness of a heart attack.

 

KrrAACK-KOOOM!

 

The meteor caught fire as it screamed towards the earth, bathing the grounds of the estate in an increasingly bright, reddish-orange glow as the fireball rapidly grew bigger the closer it drew.  Daeth didn’t have the luxury of staring in disbelief—he had to act now.  Otherwise the estate, its grounds, and a good portion of the Bridgeways was going to be wiped off the map.

The dark angel frowned briefly to himself.  That was a lot  of collateral damage, even for an apostalis.  And such extensive ancillary devastation wasn’t really the deus in manu’s style.  

There was something so off about all of this, but Daeth just didn’t have time to pull that thread.  Still, even as he exploded into action, he couldn’t shake the nagging sense that they were all—the deus in manu, included—just puppets in some broader scheme.  And he didn’t like the feeling, the thought, of that.  

At all.

Although Daeth was quite far over the heads of the people within the northern estate grounds, those below him would begin to hear the whistling scream of the fireball plunging through the air, as well as feel the strong heat radiating off of it as the air began to warm.  The dark angel began to streak across the sky in a crisscrossing pattern, sweeping Succubus through in concise, alternating arcs as he passed back and forth over the same stretch of sky.  The scythe’s curved blade glinted in the moonlight as it cut through the air; the Kingship Bands grew increasingly warmer, the metal heating until the bands felt almost feverishly hot against his skin.

With one last twirl of Succubus, the scythe blade parted atmosphere, space, and time, as Daeth literally tore open reality.  A sound like breaking glass noise reverberated through the air like an unexpected thunder clap on a sunny day.   Cracks like chain lightning appeared in the sky high above Wynterleaf and Travion’s heads, the hairline fractures in the sky rapidly widening with a series of rolling thunder claps that were loud enough to make one’s eardrums burst or bleed.  

For a brief instant, as the dark angel widened the tear in reality, one might glimpse a mirage or ghostly after–image of a sprawling, old growth forest shimmering within the ever-widening crack.

He has just managed to make the tear that’s jagged across the sky large enough when the meteor screamed through the opening in a cacophony of heat and light.  As soon as the flaming rock passed through the rift in reality, the tear closed up behind it, like a wound stitched closed by healing magic.  The only indication that it had ever been there is the smell of burning ozone and the heat slowly dissipating into the air. 

╺ ✽ ╸

 

Daeth exhaled a steadying breath; that had been a close thing.  His amethyst eyes were hard as he swept his gaze over the grounds below him, seeking out the coal-black daemon.  He caught movement at the edge of his vision and turned his head to look; he’d barely clocked the figures of Eddellyn and Travion staggering away from the hidden garden clearing, when Maarazaar suddenly torpedoed from the deep shadows in a surprise attack.

The dark angel was only just able to avoid being skewered as the massive daemon struck out with its elephantine trunk, the appendage sharpening into a spear-like point as it aimed for center mass.  

Daeth moved in a blink, dodging to the side and bringing Succubus up in a tight, sweeping arc.  A spray of dark ichor fountained into the air as the scythe blade (automatically transformed into its crescent shape) sliced clean through the daemon’s thick trunk.  The still-writhing appendage smashed into the earth like the sawed-off limb of a 300–year old giant redwood. 

He ignored Maarazaar’s roar of pain and darted forward, curving around the daemon’s giant head as he brought Succubus to bear and hooked the side of its mouth with the scythe’s (now) curved blade.  Daeth planted a foot against the daemon’s shoulder and cupped air and pulled back on the scythe with a tremendous beat of his wings, snapping Maarazaar’s head violently to the side.  

With Succubus still hooked into the meat of the Maarazaar’s cheek, Daeth tucked his wings and plummeted like a stone, yanking the daemon’s head down and smashing it into the earth with a reverberating CRASH! the tremors shaking the earth in a mini quake. 

Maarazaar’s pained scream vibrated within one’s very bones.  The daemon abruptly began to undulate as its form momentarily became…gelatinous. Daeth staggered as the hooked blade slid clear through the daemon's now amoeba-like bulk, having not anticipated the scythe to yield so readily now that there was nothing substantial to pull against.  In the split-second before he recovered, his opponent pressed the advantage.

The daemon’s body became a blur as it moved nearly faster than the eye could see as its semi-solid bulk transformed.  Half a dozen inky black, whiplike tentacles exploded from the seething mass of its amoeba-like body and wrapped around Daeth’s torso and limbs.  The tentacular appendages were cool, but not slick, though they burned like dry ice when they came into contact with the bare flesh of his torso.  The dark angel felt his ribs creak and then everything went awry as he was ripped away from where he’d been standing.  

Then, all of a sudden, Daeth was upside down in the air, with the ground rushing by above his head. Under his head? In any event, the world was speeding by at breakneck speed, and just as Daeth tucked his wings and began to orient himself, he was hurled through a huge, floor-to-ceiling window and back into the Grand Tiered Ballroom.

 

[OOC: Forcibly crash-landing in The Grand Tiered Ballroom]

This post was modified 2 weeks ago by Lassroyale

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
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DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
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RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
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NoOne
(@noone)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 582
 

Greymaster

From: The Estate Interior

The Master Mystic of Greyhaven was something of a surprising sight. Though, considering the meteors and daemons, this seemed the night for surprises. The aged elf walked toward Eddellwyn and Travion with purpose in his stride. 

The young lord, recognizing the exalted and powerful wizard, smiled with relief and greeted the mystic much like his sire had, but the wizard’s attention was focused on his companion. 

“Young lady, you must come with me.” Lolindir said, command in his tone. 

Far too late, Travion and Eddellwyn realized that the tapping of the Master Mystic’s staff upon the pathway cobbles was not random, nor was the undercurrent in his words empty. Just before he reached the pair, Greymaster raised his free hand and a magickal glow surrounded the elfess. 

Eddellwyn would find herself lifted from the ground and ensconced within an amorphous barrier bubble that moved with the gestures of the Mystic. 

Greymaster swept past Travion and drew Eddellwyn along with him. Before him a garden trellis suddenly filled with distorted light and color. A tap from the mystic’s staff had transformed it into a portal to a different place. Ignoring the protests of his captive and Travion, the Mystic walked into the portal, dragging Eddellwyn behind. No sooner was the one-handed elfmaid through the portal than it snapped closed, shaking loose a few flower petals, but leaving no other evidence of the Mystic’s or Eddellwyn’s passage.

To: Naith Tuliin


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Wynterleaf
(@wynterleaf)
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Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 96
 

Eddellyn Wynterleaf

A supersonic boom had Wynterleaf dropping to a half-crouch and the screeching roar that followed had both her and Travion looking upward to witness the alarming sight of a flaming object falling from the heavens. The steady light and heat rapidly increased as it grew larger in the sky and rocketed toward the earth. It was a horrifying vision but before the reality could fully register, she noticed a shadow in the light emanating from the rock, darkness that crisscrossed the space in a celestial dance, until at last the dance was complete and a tear in the heavens opened to swallow the meteor whole. Though it was too far away to make out in any clear detail, she knew that it was Daeth.

“We need to get inside. Now.”

She wasn’t certain why she thought indoors would be any safer than being in the gardens, as not long after, they heard the sudden noise of glass shattering from the vicinity of the grand ballroom. Anxiety settled beneath her ribs, a knot that was both hot and cold, filling her with dread and she quickened the pace.

They hadn’t progressed very far when she heard something approach from the direction of the ballroom. No, not something -someone. The sound of a purposeful and deliberate stride preceded the appearance of an elven elder, for he could be nothing else with a flowing head of hair the color of frost and a beard to match. The staff he clutched in one hand, nearly matched him in height, identified him as a wizard and the end tapped in time with each of his steps on the path.

The anxiety that had coiled uneasily in her middle flared, like a burning flame that licked down her spine before it spread across her skin. She knew at a glance that the elf had not been at the masquerade, she would have remembered seeing a wizard, especially one that had a presence such as his, one that screamed of power and control.

Travion stopped on the path ahead of her, and Wynterleaf moved close to him, her front brushing against his back, as she stood ready to reclaim her sword from his possession. But the young elven lord took a step forward with a hand raised in greeting to the other elf, relief evident in his voice as he addressed the man. That he recognized the wizard but that didn’t make her any more inclined to distrust her instincts, all of which were screaming at her to never trust any wizard.

The older elf ignored Travion completely, the weight of his attention on her as he commanded her to come with him. Her denial was swift, “Like hells, I will.” But he'd already completed the spell they hadn't realized he was casting. The last tap of his staff on stone rang clear at the same time as Wynterleaf felt herself grow weightless, encapsulated in a sphere of holding, and was already being directed to a newly opened portal at the edge of the garden. Her first and only instinct at that moment was to warn Daeth.

Without any consideration to modulate herself, Wynterleaf called out with her mindspeak, the force of energy behind the call enough to burst eardrums had the word been vocal.

DAETH!

There was no time to say anything more as the wizard whisked her through the portal and it closed abruptly behind them.

[OOC: to Naith Tuliin]

The telepathic energy released from her psychic cry continued to echo outward long after she had disappeared.

The vibrations rippled along the weave of planar energy like a fly caught in a spider's web, and somewhere, on the other side of the worlde, something took notice. And mayhap one day, Wynterleaf's action would cause regret. 


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