RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
06-30-2013, 01:21 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-21-2013, 02:10 AM by !?.)
A dark blade completed its arc with considerably less momentum. A Lesser Ouroboros slid down to its favored position about the waist, biting its tail and allowing its eyes to dim. Cliff was breathing heavily, unsure what he was or even should have been feeling at the moment. Placing his blade back into its scabbard, Cliff took a few steps and leaned against a nearby tree to observe the area and think.
Looking up was agitating: though the overlarge satellite—no more than a glowing orb, too perfect to be the pockmarked, gazing moon of his homeland—was high, and the even grid of stars, organized by color and brightness in patters, rested upon pure black, there was a sense of apprehension and impatience, as though sky were choking on itself, attempting to regurgitate the sun.
The ground was no better a sight, though in closing his eyes Cliff knew he’d still feel the writhing of all sorts of insects and what-have-you amidst the crunch of dead leaves, so he focused his vision low. Some small creatures took experimental bites of his hand, which was resting on the forest floor, and he dug the heel of his palm into the dirt to crush a few of them before lifting it to his face. Obviously, no wounds were presently visible, but he knew as well as anyone that disease cannot be seen by the human eye.
Having calmed down to a degree, Cliff reached out to Snake mentally.
That… thing… called me Clombd.
That thing called me your pet.
Touché.
In other news?
Well, it looks like we’ve got another quest, but this time we’re paying for it.
By my understanding, it’s more of a vacation, though the price is murder and vandalism. But it sounds to me like we can take our time with it.
Vandalism?
I couldn’t understand quite well, but it seems one of our opponents can only be harmed by vandalism. The barkeep.
Right, yeah… that takes a lot of magic. We should watch out for him. And that one girl… the one making the Giridian greeting? She has… could you hear what that thing said?
A… like a siege engine, but smaller. It throws metal which sets on fire. Quite dangerous. Definitely not something I’ve seen from a Giridian. We’ll need to know more about the both of them. In the meantime, you need to tend to that hand.
Cliff looked at his bitten hand and agreed: his palm was swelling and reddening, seeming to twist inward in certain areas. Slowly, vortexes were forming in his hand, turning… turning……
Cliff shook his head and trained his eyes off of his hand. The wound still seemed minor, and he wouldn’t need much magic to heal it. It was affordable.
Telling Snake to stand guard, Cliff closed his eyes and focused intently on the area. It wasn’t long before he felt his skin shifting and liquid dripping from his pores, but by the end he was aching exhausted. Teeth clenched, eyes closed, he gradually began to relax, until he was sitting against the tree, knees folded, arms crossed, accompanied only by the sounds of his own heavy breathing and Snake’s slithering in a wide ring about his tree.
Well, we better be going, Snake reminded Cliff, wouldn’t want to stay in one place too long in a vacation to the death.
Indeed. A vacation to the death in a land of stories, Cliff smiled, standing up tentatively, and the two began walking in a random direction through the unfamiliar woods, not knowing in the slightest their destination.
Looking up was agitating: though the overlarge satellite—no more than a glowing orb, too perfect to be the pockmarked, gazing moon of his homeland—was high, and the even grid of stars, organized by color and brightness in patters, rested upon pure black, there was a sense of apprehension and impatience, as though sky were choking on itself, attempting to regurgitate the sun.
The ground was no better a sight, though in closing his eyes Cliff knew he’d still feel the writhing of all sorts of insects and what-have-you amidst the crunch of dead leaves, so he focused his vision low. Some small creatures took experimental bites of his hand, which was resting on the forest floor, and he dug the heel of his palm into the dirt to crush a few of them before lifting it to his face. Obviously, no wounds were presently visible, but he knew as well as anyone that disease cannot be seen by the human eye.
Having calmed down to a degree, Cliff reached out to Snake mentally.
That… thing… called me Clombd.
That thing called me your pet.
Touché.
In other news?
Well, it looks like we’ve got another quest, but this time we’re paying for it.
By my understanding, it’s more of a vacation, though the price is murder and vandalism. But it sounds to me like we can take our time with it.
Vandalism?
I couldn’t understand quite well, but it seems one of our opponents can only be harmed by vandalism. The barkeep.
Right, yeah… that takes a lot of magic. We should watch out for him. And that one girl… the one making the Giridian greeting? She has… could you hear what that thing said?
A… like a siege engine, but smaller. It throws metal which sets on fire. Quite dangerous. Definitely not something I’ve seen from a Giridian. We’ll need to know more about the both of them. In the meantime, you need to tend to that hand.
Cliff looked at his bitten hand and agreed: his palm was swelling and reddening, seeming to twist inward in certain areas. Slowly, vortexes were forming in his hand, turning… turning……
Cliff shook his head and trained his eyes off of his hand. The wound still seemed minor, and he wouldn’t need much magic to heal it. It was affordable.
Telling Snake to stand guard, Cliff closed his eyes and focused intently on the area. It wasn’t long before he felt his skin shifting and liquid dripping from his pores, but by the end he was aching exhausted. Teeth clenched, eyes closed, he gradually began to relax, until he was sitting against the tree, knees folded, arms crossed, accompanied only by the sounds of his own heavy breathing and Snake’s slithering in a wide ring about his tree.
Well, we better be going, Snake reminded Cliff, wouldn’t want to stay in one place too long in a vacation to the death.
Indeed. A vacation to the death in a land of stories, Cliff smiled, standing up tentatively, and the two began walking in a random direction through the unfamiliar woods, not knowing in the slightest their destination.