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๖ۣۜSαᴙαh
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Jan 15, 2014 08:37PM
((RP with approved characters ONLY.))
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Jadranka mulled over things as she slipped down the path, gliding further into the darkness of the trees. A quest would certainly be intriguing, plus perhaps she can find more sources of power. She would have to go to the guild next time she was in the city. As she kept walking, she noticed the sky was also darkening. Her shoulders grew a little tense, since this would mean the darkness of the forest would almost be absolute. But there, something caught her eye. Turning her head, she spotted a distant light of a campfire. Curious, Jadranka drew closer.
Elrhoval sagged with relief when they hurled him bodily to the floor. Not usually one to complain due to a lengthy trek through the wilderness, but it didn't help when one's arms were tied behind ones back and one's face was a bloody mess. The human interlopers had not taken to well to his wit and had vented their displeasure in a most primitive manner, but then again what would one expect of these ape descended cretins, idiocy is hardly their fault. His thoughts hung heavy upon him, and we're not for himself, but rather for his brothers, for the five rangers that had died in the struggle. Of the scene that had set out around the serpents shimmy through the Eldarin heart woods, only he had survived, or rather been spared. Indeed they could have killed him, they had had just cause, he had after all felled their leader who had died,ca long, lingering death clutching at his collapsed throat courtesy of a well aimed elbow thrust. That had been before they had tied his hands, and unbelievably stupid mistake on their part, thinking the threat of a bowman could ensure his cooperation. True he had received a shaft in the upper left shoulder for that, but he would live, how long however was up for debate. They had lot a fire, which meant that they were family confident that they were undetected, for while the forest they were in was not the haven of the Eldarin, it nevertheless abutted onto Silurian land, and there inlay his slim hope of succour.
Stopping as safe distance away, hidden in the shadows, Jadranka saw it was a group of boisterous, rowdy humans. Her lips curled up in disgust and she was about to turn away when she saw something she didn't expect. A captive was among them, eladrin by his appearance despite the wounds that mar his face. Her natural inclination was to let the eladrin die, for all she knew he could be like the ones to lock her away. But then again, humans are incontestable in their incompetency and might have thought of using the captive for gain. So, Jadranka moved closer behind a tree, listening in for any more information.
"I still say we should have killed the knife-eared bastard when we had the chance, nice and quick" snarled the largest of the pack of men, his cheek bearing the marks of a recent slash. "He wanted this one dead, didn't say how, what difference does it make how?" The one that was very likely the leader of the infestation sneered. His name, Elrhoval had overheard, was Breleg, though some of the other men called him "hammerhand" . "Are you truly as stupid as you ugly Garulf? Do you think we can waltz back in there brandishing his head, and expect the snooty fucker to just pay us and let us prance out of the Scott free?" It seemed to the ranger, that they had chosen well, after their original leader, a brute of a man in the Garulf mould,had met the darkness in a suitably painful manner. That made matters worse, but he chanced his luck anyway. "Some fool paid you to off me, well if it's money you're af-" the searing pain from the kick to his side doubled him over. "Quiet you!" It was Garulf, no doubt venting some of his frustration. "Do you gentlemen know who I am? " The Eldarin persevered, gasping, "if it's money you want I can pay you double, or better yet, he gestured to the largest of the rabble. "I'd give you Hrongar's weight in gold." That elicited the response he was looking for, covetous chuckles and suspicious scowls, but the reaction he was looking for came last. "If you're trying to buy us of ranger, there's some that would accept your offer, aye, but it boils down again to whether they can trust you to follow through, I for one do not, but neither do I trust him who gave us this bounty." "Seems to me your options are to kill me and forgo the reward in order to stay alive, or to let me go, let me know who wants me dead, and after I kill the son of a whore and grant you the reward." Flicking four fingers and a thumb into the air, he added. "The mission has already cost you five companions whom I killed, so you could either kill me, or use my skill to get what you want but with justification think you will never receive." "Why can't we just kill you, get our bounty and to the darkness with whoever gets in our way!" Another mindless hero, Elrhoval heaved a heavy sigh. " you ambushed us, we were seven, you had thrice our numbers and yet there are only eight of you left, so what do you think your chances are if you walk into a trap, with cheverals and sverdlen, in full drakescale armour?"
Hearing this banter, Jadranka thought the eladrin was admirable in his speech. Perhaps she could step in? After all, she hadn't had the chance to play with her powers recently and humans were always so pitiful. Maybe she'll kill the eladrin herself for her own amusement, though at the back of Jadranka's mind, this was more of an excuse. It was hard for her to admit, but she was beginning to feel sympathy for the ranger.
Elrhoval watched the unfolding dynamic with steady eyes, the eyes of a hunter watching the herd for a potential soft target, for a weak link. There seemed to be two main schools of thought in session, one, headed by the sheizkef Garulf who insisted that they " be done with the pointy eared devil then set a trap for the fuckers setting a trap for us!" And the other marshalled by Hammerhand who posited, quite reasonably that "if he really is as valuable as he says he is, we spare him, some of follow him back to where he hides the swag, and then make off with however much we can feasibly hide." Both were risky, but for some strange reason, the ranger seemed rather hopeful that they accepted the second, and potentially more lucrative offer. By playing on these mercenary types and their love for lucre in addition to mitigating the danger element, he hoped against hope to talk them out of their fatal course of action. When it looked like they were about to reach an impasse, he proffered a third idea. "How about you take me with you, you've seen first hand what I can do, I can be an asset to your group. I'll swear you an oath, a blood oath before a Mage if you want, that way I can't go back on my word, what say you?"
Before the humans could answer, Jadranka slid out from the shadows into the clearing. In the darkness, the carvings on her face seemed darker and firelight reflected in her murky blue-green eyes . "I say don't swear on things you can't keep," she said imperiously, her red lips curling up as she lifted her hand. Dark tendrils enveloped her fingers and it was as if a the shadow of a demon stood behind her.
"By the seven hells who the fuck are you?" When surprised in their perverse predilections by a woman, alone, a man of questionable virtue would more often than not resort to crass annoyance, their limited perspectives blind to the palpable threat that wreathed about her like a dragon composed of smoke and shadow. Their Eldarin prisoner too felt himself wrong footed by surprise, only to recognise the intruder as one of his kind, one moreover, who was an adept in the arcane arts, one who his captors had best treat with caution, lest they regret it, painfully. "Silence worm!" the leader of the captors said, as he gauged the knife-eared wench before him. "A little astray from your home, my lady, how may we assist you?"
Raising a brow in amusement, Jadranka took a moment to revel in her anonymity. A good mystery is always entertaining, she thought as she inclined her head to look down at the leader with her piercing gaze. "Your assistance won't be needed. I am perfectly fine where I am and I am sure you humans wouldn't be capable of such an intellectual feat as following directions anyways," she replied smoothly.
"Wot's she sayin'?" One of the larger, more visibly moronic members of the posse grunted, as he scratched a scab above his left ear, his poleaxe serving as a third leg. "Be quiet Drugar." the leader drawled, as he smirked filthily at the Eldarin interloper. "Well seeing as we won't be of use to you,perhaps you had best be off my lady, we have ,ah, private matters to discuss with our prisoner." Having been in the mans's company for several hours, Elrhoval knew the signs of chafing in Breleg' deceptive good humour; the only reason he has elected to banter with her is because, beyond Siluria, he feels safety in numbers means the umstikh or shadoweaver, such as she surely was, has no claim over him, and if it came down to a fight, as it almost inevitably would, he would prevail. Spotting a pair of boot blades, the Eldarin ranger felt his hands slip free of the bonds he retained only for show, exploiting the attentions of the imbeciles upon his kin.
She smiled, her lips blood red against her pale skin. "Ah, you may think that your little frolicking in these woods may not concern me, but you see, you are disturbing my peace. As such, I can't let that pass. If you excuse yourselves and leave the prisoner, I'll be willing to forgive you and let you escape with your insignificant, feeble lives." Raising a brow, she gave them a challenging look. Though she might have stepped in because of her curiosity over the ranger, now she was enjoying herself. If it came down to a fight, she'd surely relish releasing her power.
"Now then, that's not very nice now is it?" Surely even humans were not so foolish as to presume that a woman alone in the forest might not possess some means of self-defence as would render the need for protective male companionship moot? But no, Breleg advance purposefully towards the newcomer, a ripper's smile unsheathed upon his lips as the atmosphere changed perceptibly; they the predators, she the prey, and powerful she may be, hammerhand was not a man to be taken lightly. Wait, it's a trap! One of the men was missing, indeed, Elrhoval too had omitted counting him among the mercenary rabble closing around their unwelcome guest. Where was he? A perceptive hunter, the ranger cycled through faces until he stopped; Ahh, Snipe... that's what the other's called him, an archer with... oh no! Scouring the foliage fruitlessly, Elrhoval forgot about all else; unseen, the sharpshooter could take out his would-be rescuer, unless...The sudden whizzing sound jerked the gang around to where their prisoner crouched. "What the-" began Garulf, when a series of soft thumps preceded the body of the green-clad archer, a blade stuck in his windpipe. "Care to dance, Gentlemen?" jerked them around to the spectacle of their ex-prisoner, standing, a blade in his hand, death in his eyes.
It seems the ranger isn't useless after all, Jadranka thought. As some of the men began to face their newer opponent, she decided it was time to leap into action. Gliding over to the nearest man, she gripped his shoulder, her fingernails digging in. A coldness rose within her tinged with poisonous agony. Then she pushed it out into the man. Slowly, before her eyes, the man's sneer shifted to that of terror as a scream burst out of his mouth as he was transformed into a ghoul.
An attacker with a weapon tends to subconsciously favour his martial tool over the capacity of his own body to serve as a weapon in and of itself; that had been one of the first lessons to be imparted to him, as he lay groanin upon the ground, one of 8 young men, all the worse for wear after coming up against an unarmed leafdancer elite. Clad in light doe-skin leather, chosen for its suppleness which was an ally to flexibility and movement, the man had been unarmed, the eight who faced him, had been armed, and yet he was the only one standing. Grinning as four of the louts came for him, all five of them froze in their tracks at a womanish shriek from one of the other men. "Oho, one of those are we?" he exclaimed, seeing what she had done. A Deathmistress, now these poor saps are indeed in trouble!
"Of course? What would you expect?" Jadranka flashed the former prisoner an arrogant smile. Drifting away from the newly formed ghoul, she approached another man. This one proved to be more intelligent and he stepped back warily. With the smile on her face, she held her hands out as if to show she meant no harm. It seemed the man gained some courage when he saw the others attack their prisoner and so with a yell, he leaped at her, brandishing his sword. Jadranka waited patiently, seemingly unfazed. When the man was closer, she slipped to the side, quick as a shadow, and she touched the man's arm. Again, the process of cold and death filled her and another ghoul was made.
Where his timely rescuer indulged in the daker arts of death and beyond, Elrhoval dropped into a familiar stance, the small but wickedly rusty blade held in his left hand as his right splayed out before the four who had decided he was the one more worthy of their gift of a quick death. The leader had opted to tackle the dark maja, which left the snarling man-beast Ulfgar and his two cretinous companions, Harvald the hopeless and Thorian the tormented, so named by their Eldarin captive for the former's astounding inability to think for himself, and the latter's propensity to talk to himself for no discernible reason. As taut as a drawn bowstring, the ranger anticipated the first move, darting away from the big man's attack so bereft of subtlety it had been a question of timing rather than reaction. Catching the arm as it slashed past, he used the man's momentum to pull himself into his circle of protection, embedding the dagger deep into the gap between pauldron and breastplate. Using their stricken companion as an erstwhile shield, he shoved the howling moron into his companions, diving for the dropped sword, rising to his feet, spinning the somewhat unbalanced weapon with an expert hand. "Now this is more like it!" Parrying the first blow, he ducked beneath the second, depriving the first man of his feet, with an acrobatic swivel takedown before a double handed parry left his teeth rigning with the impact, rolling away from the ham-handed steel."Magic will not save you, you pointy-eared whore!" snarled hammerhand and with a trademark swing, he took off the lower jaw of his former companion. "Are you going to turn more of my men into hammer fodder then?" he growled, advancing with murder in his eyes.
Jadranka's eyes flicked over to the ranger, then back to the approaching leader. She'd have to get this over with in case the eladrin needed her help. The leader was taking his time, confident in his abilities despite her display of power. It made her irritated that he still assumed she was a feeble, weak-minded woman in some regard. And weak-minded is something she'll never ever be. Since he was still far away, she used a different spell. Flicking her wrist, almost as if she was conducting an orchestra, Jadranka pushed her magic forward, cutting the man's face as she searched for more vulnerable spots.
"Gah, you fucking witch!" Breleg's bellow of rage occasioned by pain alerted Elrhoval to the fact that the most dangerous warrior of the gang was dead set upon making short work of the nightsister. Forgetting for that moment that he was engaged with three enraged morons, and that she could have easily taken the fool without so much as batting an eyelid, he ducked below another wild swing, rising with a bear's gut-opened from hi[p to sternum,the ranger relinquished the stuck blade, and snatched one of the lighter ones the dead man would no longer have any use for. Reaching back, he threw it effortlessly in the direction of the incensed hammerhand. Time seemed to stop, as even his attackers seemed transfixed as the dagger pivoted end over end, landing with a wet thud in the back of the man's skull. An oath of hideous vehemence forced him around, and back into the inconvenience of dancing with a duo of dunces.
The display of the ranger's skill impressed Jadranka, but she disliked that he used it on her prey. When the hammerhand fell dead at her feet, she turned to the others. For a moment, she wondered if she should just leave since the eladrin obviously can take care of himself now. But she still felt this urge to spill blood and so, she raised her hand towards one of the idiots and flicked her wrist.
Never attack in anger, it makes you sloppy even as it lends extra strength to your blows; clearly the reality was that Ulfgar and his equally brutish lackey hadn't been tutored based on this useful tenet, and judging from the amount of swearing that was going on, it would not have taken a drunken goblin long to surmise that they were indeed decidedly riled. The only way this lot managed to get the better of us was the fact that they had set up a deceptively clever ambush, the ranger told himself as he eluded first one than another murderous swing of cold steel. As it turned out, Ulfgar had some skill about him to compensate or perhaps complement his bestial savagery and soon Elrhoval's fingers were numb from the various slashes and thrusts he had no option but to parry. Thorian, seeing a gap in the Eldarin's defence, darted in with deceptive quickness, and Elrhoval felt a telltale sting across his left side. Pivoting away out of bladereach, he chanced a hand down to the source of the agony, and unsurprisingly returned with dark scarlet. Fine, he thought gritting his teeth, it was time to end this. Rushing the startled barbarian, Elrhoval took the heavy overhead blow on the flat of the borrowed blade, before sliding on his back between the man's legs, coming up in a crouch and slashing in a flat arc, severing the tendons on the back of his opponent;s right leg, causing him to collapss onto his knees with a strangled bellow. A nonchalant swipe, and Thorian was tormented no more, his head rolling in a grisly over and over path, matted black hair adhered to his open-mouthed face by a mess of sweat, spit and blood. "Well, you wanted to kill me panhedan" he said softly to the single man standing. "Care to try?"
Her eyes followed the head's roll before flicking back to the ranger. She didn't have any inclination of moving, finding their exchange enrapturing. As the fight continued, her lips curled up in a smile, amusement shining in her eyes.
Seeing the gash suddenly open in his companion's neck did something to Breleg that nothing else had ever done to him before in his long, chequered career as a mercenary, it made him really, and truly afraid. Here was the sort of thing he could not fight, at least not out in the open where all she had to do was replicate what she had done, and his throat would be weeping rubies down his chest, the same way they had down Elbor's. So intense was their focu upon each other that Ulfgar did not notice that he was the last man standing, and that a deathmistress was watching him with a degree of detached curiosity. Indeed he could not have done, nor would he notice anything thereafter, as a powerful lung was diverted away and down, and a pair of fingers arrowed directly into his one functioning eye. The helmet he wore made it almost impossible to blind him with a blade, and even a well-handled dagger would have had trouble, but a slender pair of Eldarin fingers proved remarkably effective. The ululating scream was terminated with a contemptuous slash which produced another ball of blood, sweat, saliva, flesh and bone. "Couldn't abide the noise." Elrhoval explained to his rescuer, before his vision blurred, and dropping the heavy blade, he sank to the ground, senseless, his leather tunic bathed in red where the lucky slice had cut him open.
She might have laughed and smiled in amusement had not the ranger fallen. At first she debated leaving, but she figured she went through all this trouble and should at least complete the rescue she had started. Going over to him, Jadranka barely noticed the blood as she grabbed his arm and slung it over her shoulders. It was a little difficult, since he was obviously more heavy and muscular than her, but she was determined to not let it show on her face. Adjusting his arm over her shoulder, she glanced over at him. "Let's get you to a healer, ranger," Jadranka said, wanting to see if he was still conscious.
When they were not primed with focus of sculpted by disdain, Elrhoval managed to perceive the bewitching beauty of the woman who had come to his aid. Watching her through slitted eyes, he found himself clinging onto the melody of her voice as she addressed him; the substance of her speech floated beyond his hazy recollection, but the voice, her voice, he could listen to that voice and naught else. "Th-thank you..." he managed to say, gritting his teeth against the plain. "Please...please..."
Jadranka shushed him, her tone surprisingly gentle. "No need for thanks or a plea," she said sternly as she began to walk with him. It was a slow process and as they continued, she became more aware of his body heat pressed up against her side as she helped him limp along. Thankfully they weren't too far away from the city, but she hoped that he wouldn't loose too much blood.
Pressing a hand to his side, he winced slightly at the sting of his hubris, but noted, with some unexpected surprise, that the wound was tightly bound, dry, if not overly helpful, a temporary impediment to prevent him from bleeding out then. "Perhaps we should search their bags, I believe they may still have my, unh... medicament pouch with them."There were indeed several travel stained rucksacks, the contents of which the dead men would have no need for. "Town, city... is it far?" He had never travelled this far beyond the woods he had been tasked to patrol, and while he did know of the lay of the land hereabouts, focusing on details was not his strong point under the present circumstances.
"Not far, but far enough to be a hassle," Jadranka replied, guiding him towards a tree for him to lean against while she went back to retrieve the bags. She had absolutely no idea why she was bothering with the ranger when she could just go on her merry way. Shaking her head slightly, dislodging more dark strands of hair across her face, she dispelled those thoughts for another day. Returning back to him, she asked, "Which herbs will you need?"
"Bloodwort, to, uh, stem the bleeding, pounded into a paste and mixed with spring water, the resultant salve should... aah." What was she doing all the way out here ,if she was not searching for herbs? Elrhoval blinked away the creeping haziness that encroached upon the borders of his vision and gestured to the small leather pack. "That's mine... thank you." Unsure whether she had administered a salve before binding his wounds, he winced as he tried to attach the ties around himself. With her help he managed it. "Need to find a... stick..." he gasped. "Can't burden you... with me, stick will... help me walk, a crutch... branch." Branches were not naturally inclined to snap and fall, but the ranger's eye lit upon a slender, but sturdy treeling not far from where they were. "That one, I can, strip it down... make a staff."
"You're not fit enough to do it," Jadranka said sharply. Somewhat amazed the ranger was still conscious, she still thought it would defeat the purpose of her rescue if he made himself bleed to death. Following the direction of his gaze, she glided away, barely making a sound. She plucked up a sword as she walked and in a few smooth swipes, cut down the sapling. Not too long, she returned to his side. "Will this do?"
"Aye... thank you..." Leaning slightly against her, Elrhoval took the prop and inserted it maladroitly under the crook of his right arm. The ranger sighed, relief apparant upon his pale, sweat-beaded face. "Now then, since I have ceased to delay our departure, perhaps we should leave this ill-omened place behind before the scraggers come, pulled by the scent of the recently unalive." Accepting her assistance, they made their way back through the undergrowth, to what Elrhoval assumed as the traces of a forest path that the band had passed several leagues previously.
"Yes, perhaps," she said with a smirk, a hint of sarcasm tinging her voice as she helped him along. Though she would never admit this, Jadranka was glad she wasn't alone on their journey back. Her eyes darted over to the man next to her and studying his face discreetly. Kind of handsome, he looked like everything you'd expect in a ranger. She wondered what got him into trouble with the humans and so she asked, "Do you get captured often?"
"Well that would... depend." Elrhoval grinned weakly as he savoured the close up sight of his rather attractive, and certainly powerful rescuer. "If it means... being rescued by death magic wielding beauties, I could contrive to allow it to happen more regularly..." Oh Rove you unabashed rogue, still playing your tongue even when you're bleeding to death, you always did know how to lighten the mood.
A laugh escaped her and a smile played around her red lips. "I see you must have loss more blood than I thought," Jadranka said with amusement, her eyes glancing over him as she looked at him with a raised brow. She certainly didn't expect to hear that from the ranger. Most of the reactions she encountered were based off of her scars that usually frightened or unsettled people. "We're almost there, so these delusions of yours will end soon."
"One thing I guess they don't tell you about us," Elrhovsl chuckled as he tested his weight upon the makeshift prop, " is that we're always prepared for... a little scratch or two... we have...potion... so we bleed less." Leaning upon the impromptu crutch as a spasm hit him, he scrunched his eyes shut before the pain subsided. "Gershrank it, if I'm lucky, I'll just have rustbite to contend with. If I'm not well..." trying to smile up at her, but only managing to wince, he said, "Just how far do we have mareth sidai (my lady)"?
Raising a brow, Jadranka didn't bother to question if he was telling the truth. Turning to face forward, she missed the smile her way as she looked further up the path. "Not far. We're almost to the edge. Just a few more minutes."
What would he have given at that moment for the feel of soft, giving linen underneath his aching limbs, having trained himself to sleep rough, the ranger had nevertheless never been weaned of the noble conceit of coveting a heavenly bed. "So, uh, where d'you... live, nice place?" he said slightly softer than he would normally have done. Focus, speak to her, mustn't...go... to sleep...
"We're not going to where I live," she told him, her voiced tinged with amusement. In fact, they were going in the opposite direction. But that was a small matter and as she guided him along the path, she kept a sharp eye on him until they broke through the trees and stepped into the outskirts of Chaga-Dai. Without further hesitation, she headed towards the healer, thinking as soon as this was over, she won't bother rescue anyone else.*END OF SCENE*
