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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jun 15, 2010 17:55:55 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 15, 2010 17:55:55 GMT -5
Irrisorie reached her hands up, up towards the sky, stretching the travel-kinks out of her spine. She framed the sun with her fingers, tickling it gently and smiling. Here in the valley, the air was still and cool. Iri took a few wandering steps forward, eyes drifting around... A sudden flash of orange caught her gaze, and she watched the butterfly flitter this way, then that, then this, off into the distance, up, up towards... Iri's attention shifted from the butterfly to the towering stones behind it. They were beautiful. Irrisorie felt like she was nestled under the wing of the towering temple-mountain, here in the nook of the valley. At the peak of the mountain was a domed overlook, shrouded in haze. Just down the mountain stood two spiked, conical spires, like evergreens of stone. Leading from within was a broad, sweeping staircase -- Iri could not wait to race up its steps. Another, narrower staircase led down to first one, then another building, crisp straight cuts on the mountain. Irrisorie could barely see a dust of snow, sprinkled on the highest reaches. It reminded her of chocolate dessert, with the dusting of powdered sugar on top... Closer to Iri, cube-ish rooms spilled down the mountain, with tall, narrow windows that were filled with shadows that beckoned of mystery. The pale strips of stone seemed to spill down, basin to ledge, basin to ledge, like rivulets of water, finally falling into a dark, swishing lake below. A few yards uphill of the lake, Iri could look into the water, and marveled at the way it seemed to go down, down as far as the mountains went up. Iri looked to see to where the lake drained, but its still, silent surface told no secrets. Iri had been holding her breath, keeping it captive to make the moment stretch longer, but now it fluttered like a caged bird, and Iri let it slowly from her chest. She spun around to face the others, golden excitement in her eyes. "Isn't it amazing? I told you, I told you it would be spectacular." Iri spun again, the mighty temple reflected in her gilded eyes. She sighed a sweet sigh, and soaked it in. She had seen this place in pictures, but it wasn't the same. It was like the difference between reading the menu, and savoring the bliss of la specialtie du jour. Oh it was so gorgeous... and she'd wasn't just going to look at it, she was going to be in it. She could run her fingers across the cool, rough stone, cradle the elegant carving in her fingers, feel the chill of the ghosts that had once walked the halls... Irrisorie had to remind herself to breathe... oh, she was so excited! She spun back once more, her eyes beckoning to the other Mythics. "C'mon!" she called, eagerly beginning the short hike with a few backwards steps.
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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Jun 16, 2010 0:27:13 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Jun 16, 2010 0:27:13 GMT -5
Why am I here?
The Mythic had no idea what he was doing all the way out here. It wasn't that the mountains were relaxing or the ruins weren't mysterious in their own way. Indeed, if anything, such a place was perfect for a man like him. A place of solitude and serenity, a place where he could think freely without disturbance. Then why was he so loathe to be here....and suddenly the answer came to him in a distinctively feminine voice.
Oh yes, that is why...
Even though he had tried to keep his distance, the fact still remained that he was here with a group of other Mythics. All that peace and serenity had hoped for was absolutely obliterated. All Cruentus could do was sigh heavily as he continued to make his way up towards the ruins. There was no doubt that there was a certain mystique to them, he doubted he was the only one who felt drawn to them. So that begged the question, what were they doing here? The answer was quite simple.
These were ruins of a significant city of ancient Aiaru. They had never been explored properly, or rather not extensively. Today, the group was here on reconnaissance and evaluation. Their objective was to thoroughly search the ruins to determine whether they held any secret power or treasure. The group was here to assess whether the ruins were worth guarding or not. The fact was that the Unum was constantly on the move, and though it had not been publicized, had gained control of some significant sites. Higher ups weren't exactly pleased with the situation, and was now sending out many parties such as this one to various areas all over Aiaru.
Silently, Cruentus hoped that the Unum would show up here. He had more than a little to talk with them about. His sister was still in their clutches, and he would get her back. It was the only reason he had joined the Mythics otherwise he could have cared less about them. Cruentus had kept his reasons to himself, and thus his presence in the Mythics probably didn't make sense to most around him. All they knew was that was he had a bone to pick with the Unum, a feeling he was sure that many shared.
The air was thinning ever so slightly as he made his way higher up towards the ruins. The chances were that they would spend hours here and wouldn't find a single thing. In truth, it frustrated him, but he wasn't one to show such things, much less admit them. The least he could have had was some solitude but even that wasn't available to him. Suffice to say, Cruentus was just a little unhappy about this whole expedition.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 16, 2010 12:30:43 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 16, 2010 12:30:43 GMT -5
Were Iri the extreme positive end of the scale of opinions on this excursion, and Cruentus the negative, then Kvothe found himself somewhere towards the middle. More toward the positive end, certainly, but in the middle none-the less.
It's a beatiful sight, he thought as he stretched himself out, limbering up the muscles that were so tight after the long trip out to their location. Honestly, Kvothe didn't mind this journey at all. The place they would be exploring looked interesting enough, with its imposing height and soaring tops of the two massive structures towards the top of the mountains.It's better than going back to work. Especially when his work involved hunting down Unum members who were, more often than not, people he'd known in some capacity during his time growing up in the Tower. That would have to be resumed again, though, but for the time being, he was willing to do something else after just returning from his Galactic trip.
He was unarmored this day, as the chance of running into any serious combat was low; he did, however still carry his sword, as he almost always did, and he was nearly never seen without his bladed staff. The only hint of his set of armor, which was back in the Tower, was the red and gold armband that sat around his left bicep. Other than that, he wore his robes, with leather boots and the green sash that was always around his waist. Said sash billowed gently in a breeze that blew down into the valley out of the mountains, bringing with it some of the cool air of the last bits of winter that still clung to their peaks.
The sound of movement behind him called his attention, and he turned his head around to see Fas, his familiar, emerging from the transport they'd traveled out in. "Ah, there you are," said Kvothe as his the icy blue of his eyes took on a greenish tint. "I thought you were going to stay on the transport and sleep all day with the way you were knocked out." Fas gave him an annoyed look before trotting off to look around. Kvothe laughed to himself and then made his own way out, over to his companions.
"Well, I think today will be a good day," he said to Cruentus, who seemed to be brooding. "Don't you?" He gave the Blood Mythic a friendly pat on the shoulder and moved off after Iri, toward the ruins. "Can't be any worse than being stuck in the Tower all day, now can it?"
As he walked, he watched the myst dance around Iri with a sense of wonder. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it, but it was such a marvel that it was hard not to be entranced by it. "So, Iri," he started with a look to her, as his eyes shifted over completely to a deep forest green, "what do you think we'll find in there?"
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Kvothe's eyes were not the only ones that shifted color. A figure watched from afar, too far to be noticed by the new arrivals. He was tall, with a lithely muscular build that spoke both of speed and power. Shaggy, pitch black hair fell down to just past his shoulders, framing his well-tanned face in an almost unruly mane. His robes were black, with red accents in various places, and had strange sleeves that left his shoulders bare, revealing the tattoo that adorned both of them; a tattoo that could only have one meaning.
Potissimus Egregius Unum.
The eyes shifted to the green of amusement as the figure pulled his electrobinoculars away. The Mythics had arrived. See, this person had been waiting for some time, along with a small group of his companions. Waiting for the Mythics to wander in, so sure of their safety. Waiting to strike. "And if you're here, Ishar..." he muttered lowly. Today would be a very fascinating day indeed.
"Vorian, the Mythics are here."
Vorian fished around for his comlink for a moment before he found it. "I've seen them. Let them go into the ruins unhindered. Remember our orders: stay hidden, let them think they're safe, and then strike."
"Understood. Did you see that girl?"
"The one with the fog around her?" One of Vorian's black eyebrows arched quizically, though there was no one there to see him. "Yes, she's interesting. Have someone keep an eye on her, will you?"
"As you say. Marza out."
Vorian watched the group of Mythics in silence for a few moments more. Touches of gold played at the edge of his irises as he gave the ruins a look before glancing once more at the Mythics and then vanishing back into the shadows.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Jun 16, 2010 19:40:17 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jun 16, 2010 19:40:17 GMT -5
Wulf's nostrils flared for a brief moment to bring in as much of the icy air around his muzzle as possible. A wide variety of scents and aromas quickly filled his senses. By no stretch of the imagination was the wind that gently caressed his face powerful, but it was more than strong enough to keep the scents of the unum members from reaching his nostrils. Instead, his nose was filled with the natural musk of various prey animals and even, occasionally, a few mountain flowers.
Their gentle scent kept his mind off of the task at hand, which was to... well... walk towards the ruins. Not that it was tremendously complex, just somewhat painful. All of his companions had shoes. Every one. The only thing Wulf had was soft (and sensitive, mind you) pads on his feet. Each time the bottom of his paws (or hands in the front) touched the frigid and unyielding dirt he almost wanted to recoil them. Especially when a small clump of snow managed to make its way past his rear leg's pads and inbetween his toes.
Needless to say, he wished that he brought some shoes. If he could wear shoes. What a ridiculous notion.
In fact, so focused was he on not recoiling his paw or hand at every step that he barely noticed Iri's shrill voice reach his ears. Though everyone's voice, even the deepest human voice, seemed to be somewhat shrill.
He quickly found himself wishing that he brought his staff, if for nothing else than to help him walk on his hind legs. At least then he wouldn't have had to worry about how utterly freezing the ground was. "Of all the places to send me, they send me to somewhere cold," he mumbled out shortly before realizing that he was actually supposed to be in a cold environment. That fluffy white-blue wolf fur of his held heat marvelously.
Adalwulf pulled ahead of where he was at Iri's prompting, and hurried towards the front of the group. The massive dog hadn't actually noticed the serene ruins in the distance, or the cubic buildings that drew near. He was too busy whining to himself. They were breath taking. If there was one place the Wolvdrachen would spend his life, he decided, it would be in that place.
"Beautiful..."
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Twysper
Feared leader of SM*OTTOTU.
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last online Nov 8, 2014 11:42:28 GMT -5
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Jun 19, 2010 9:00:45 GMT -5
Post by Twysper on Jun 19, 2010 9:00:45 GMT -5
Math cast a longing, backwards look at his Scout, sitting perched in the cold climate like a sleek bird of prey. The Squib had flown the group of Mythics here, without incident even! An accomplishment that he still hadn't gotten used to. A nimble-digit'd hand appeared out of the insulating warmth of the Squib's dark robes, and petted the faithful Falcon-class before he started to hike after the others. Towers of the ruins rose in front of him like fingers encased in icy gauntlets, stretching to attain the clouds, but falling short as the weather taunted them.
Mathathy's small footsteps crunched into the cold ground steadily, like the soft, distinctive falling of a metronome's pendulum. He carried his beloved staff in one of his black furred hands, and the Squib’s figure was an inky dark splotch on the snowy landscape. Dressed from head to toe in his preferred black cloak and garb, large pointed ears slightly propping up the hood, Mathathy looked at their destination with undisguised glee; though he could not understand why they hadn't wanted him to fly them all up to the abandoned citadel instead of taking the short hike, the Squib had eventually acquiesced and set them down a bit farther on the mountain.
Unfortunately, Math was generally annoying to other beings, sentient and non-sentient, over the course of long exposure to himself. He didn't mean to be, usually, but the Squib had a severe issue with doing the same thing for too long. When he grew tired of merely walking, he ignited his staff’s pilot light with a click, and about every other eight steps a small whooshing burst of flame would leap from the end of Latebra Ignem, burning a path through the cold snow...
...and occasionally singeing one or more of his closer companions' at the same time.
Math was oblivious to the latter fact.
The tiny Mythic's perspective on the trip was like an optimistic, compulsive gambler buying a lottery ticket; he fully expected to find some relic of value in the ruins, and even if he didn't, there was always next time. But he would find something, of this there was absolutely no doubt in his mind.
Oh, and scouting to see if it was worth reinforcing against the Unum was important too.
He did not like the Unum.
One of his hands patted his belt questioningly, and the cool metal of his twin sabers answered him, along with Desertus, the small ‘sword’ he was obliged to carry. These blades, combined with Latebra Ignem, his staff, desired the opportunity to shed the other faction’s blood, and gave Math effective means to do it. Now he just needed one to smite.
Iri's words of enthusiasm came floating back on the chill air to Math last, traveling, as he was, at the back of the group of Mythics. She was a funny girl, and one of the more interesting members of the party to the Squib, in comparison to say, Cruentus, who had refused to let Mathathy relieve him of his multiple staffs earlier.
“Happykiller.” Math huffed under his breath, before quickening his pace and passing the large, musing Wulf, the canine’s white fur providing substantial camouflage in the current terrain. The inky dark figure was eager to see inside the ruins, eager to see if there was anything still worth looting there, and loped next to Kvothe and his Flickercat, Fas, for a moment before in turn passing them, kicking up flurries of snow as he went.
Irrisorie was the only one left to catch up to now, and Math’s big yellow-green eyes fastened on the nearing stairs in anticipation, a shudder running through his black-furred body.
He had brought a knapsack, and it was to be filled; he would shear off interesting shapes from the architecture if he had too…
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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Jun 20, 2010 1:04:36 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Jun 20, 2010 1:04:36 GMT -5
[Alright since I am not going to be here for the next day or so, I thought id just throw something here so yall can post too]
Calm. He needed to remain calm. He forced himself to quell his rising anger before something of a violent nature occurred. This was no life or death situation though, it was something much worse. Cruentus, a man who traveled over all of Aiaru. A man who had encounter a variety of dangerous foes and was known for keeping a cool head, was suddenly on the verge of losing his temper. It all happened as the result of one pat on the shoulder.
Cruentus narrowed his eyes as Kvothe walked past him. His companions seem to find some amusement in testing his patience. The newly initiated Mythic had lived the last ten or so years of his life alone. He preferred solitude but now he was forced into a position where he needed the help of others. Initially, those he went on missions with left him alone for the most part. They had been wary of his presence, even afraid on certain occasions. The arrangement worked well for Cruentus. This new group though, they were completely different.
Indeed, their group consisted of a wolf like creature. Then there was the small furred being known as Mathathy. Small stature, large annoyance. He had tried to relieve Cruentus of one of his staffs much to his irritation. There was of course the woman, by the Mythos she gave him headaches. He wasn't sure what god he had upset, but truly he couldn't have done something so bad as to deserve such a fate. Even as the Squib shot forward, Cruentus could do nothing but let out a heavy sigh.
Eventually Cruentus reached the top of the stairs, and was finally on level ground. If he was completely honest with himself, he found these ruins quite captivating. There was just something about them that seemed to radiate power. It was almost a tangible feeling, as if he could reach his hand out and grab it. He could use this opportunity to get away from the group, and be able to truly appreciate these ruins. There was no way he could do that properly while he was in the company of these philistines.
"I shall scout ahead" He said with an even tone
If he had shown that he was irritated, they would no doubt continue on with their antics. Their thought process totally escaped Cruentus' understanding. Indeed, he should not focus on such things lest he become like one of them. Cruentus shuddered at the very thought. Once he was back at the Tower, he would see if he couldn't get himself transferred away from these fools. Then with that thought in mind, Cruentus headed into the mysteriously alluring ruins.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jun 20, 2010 17:41:07 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 20, 2010 17:41:07 GMT -5
"So, Iri, what do you think we'll find in there?"
Iri considered this a moment, walking backwards to face Kvothe properly. How she could do so without falling flat was not immediately apparent. The mist, an odd extension of Iri's subconscious, filled the Mythos around her. And so, in turn, did her perception of the world. She did not fail to note that Kvothe's eyes were deep green now. Now she knew for sure that they changed color, and it intrigued her. But she owed him an answer.
"Treasure!" she said, with the glee of a pirate. She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers like the twinkling of a gem. "And Ghosts!" She widened her eyes in mock horror, throwing her hands out in an expansive gesture. Her antics dissolved into giggles as she turned to face forward again.
Iri's mist, that strange thing that couldn't be seen, but could, had a habit of pervading the world around her. Like a dream or an idea, the things her subconscious realized were most often communicated to her by her familiars, fabrications of the same mist. But none of them were present at the moment, so old input drifted slowly, vaguely, into the conscious pane of her mind.
"Oh Adal-vulf, don't you just love the cold?" She loved his name and his accent, with its V-W's. "It makes my toes tingle." Iri didn't need to look to know who was quickly gaining on her, low to the ground. "Mathathyper Chesheervyk!" Another name she loved. It made her tongue jump rope. "That was very nice flying you did." The compliment was delayed, but sincere. She quickly scooped up the small Squib, nestling him in the crook of her arm.
It was not tempting to think of Mathathy like a teddy bear because he was not a teddy bear. Iri had a teddy bear. Teddy bears did not have bright green eyes, blue-tipped ears, and sharp, pointy teeth. Teddy bears also did not play trading games, out of which Iri had already gotten the most wonderful dragonfly wing -- in exchange for her lunchtime cupcake, of course. Iri liked to hold Mathathy, who was not a teddy bear, because he was warm and soft, which actually was like a teddy bear.
Cruentus's voice swept through the trees.
"I shall scout ahead."
"Oh! I want to come too!" Iri cried, falling in step with the blood mythic, just to his right, like a faithful pet. As it were, that meant Mathathy was along as well.
Now in direct proximity to Cruentus, Irrisorie knew that whatever he was feeling, happy wasn't it. Irrisorie almost always felt happy, but she knew she was special that way. Even so, she liked it when other people were happy. Maybe she could cheer Cruentus up.
So, Iri began to hum. It wasn't your usual, off-key meandering sort of hum. When Iri hummed, she hummed the music that played deep inside her head. It was a haunting melody. It definitely came from her -- her throat hummed with the music -- but there was an extra dimension to it. Part of the music echoed through the mythos, in Iri's strange mist that couldn't be seen, but... could.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 21, 2010 18:03:45 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 21, 2010 18:03:45 GMT -5
"Of course!" Kvothe answered Iri, echoing the excitement that was so clear in her voice. "It'll be such a grand adventure!" He laughed to himself she moved her attention on to the other Mythics and he carried on, boots crunching lightly in the snow. Iri was really quite a joy to be around. Hers was a spirit that was always happy, and unlike Cruentus some of the other Mythics, Kvothe liked that. The Mythos only knew they'd need to enjoy life a bit, with as dark as the clouds on Aiaru's horizon were.
He looked back to see Adalwulf nearby and nodded to the massive Mythic in greeting. Even on all fours, Wulf was taller than Kvothe. He was a very, very large wolf. And he could talk. The Mythics were known for having strange members... "Could be worse, right? They could send us out to the Aethon's edge. I'd hate to imagine what the desert would be like with all that fur." Silver threads played through the green of his eyes--an indication that he was kidding. It was cold, and the wind blowing down certainly didn't help. It'd probably be better when they got in to the old citadel. The old, frozen citadel.
"I think today will be an easy, don't you?" he asked, slowing to walk at Wulf's side. "The ruins should be empty, and I think the biggest thing we'll have to worry about is keeping Cruentus from murdering Iri or Math..."
His attention shifted to that peculiar little creature when the roar of open flame sounded. When he looked, he saw nothing less that Math walking forward, staff held before him, with fire flaring out from the tip. Some of it came dangerously close to one of Fas' tails, and the flickercat yelped before turning about and looking at Math with a savage hiss. The air around Fas solidified before he could do anything, though, and then he was airborne, carried by a gentle current that moved at Kvothe's behest. "Let's not make enemies, alright, Fas?" He didn't need the bond with Fas to know that his familiar was agitated; however, Fas making an attempt to skewer Math on one of his tails just wouldn't do. Oh, it would probably be beyond amusing, but alas, it could not be.
Fas glared at Kvothe when he was set down away from the Squib, and then stalked off igdinantly. Were the anger surging through the bond any indication, the feline was probably contemplating a variety of ways to kill Math. I'm sure those two will be wonderful friends, Kvothe mused with a shake of his head.
Fortunately, Math was soon scooped up by Iri--an action that got an amused snicker out of Kvothe. And then Iri was off, announcing that she would accompany Cruentus, who said he would be going off ahead on his own, no doubt in an attempt to get away from the rest of them. Of course, with the way Iri was carrying Math, that meant that the squib would be going along with them. Kvothe laughed openly at that. "Have fun, then," he called with a wave. "Try not to break anything you wouldn't pay for."
Kvothe went on to start up a set of stairs, and turned to look at Wulf. "How long do you think it will be before he tries to kill one of them?"
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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Jun 21, 2010 23:36:06 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Jun 21, 2010 23:36:06 GMT -5
"Oh! I want to come too!"
Six words. It only took six words to bring all of Cruentus' hopes and dreams crashing down in an instant. He had just wanted to get away from these people, but apparently the gods wouldn't allow it. Once again he had wondered if he had been cursed, and what he did to deserve this treatment. He understood life wasn't fair, he knew that all too well, but this was absolutely inhumane. His ability to keep a cool head was what made him dangerous in battle, but this was a completely different dimension.
Cruentus clenched his fist tightly as Iri moved up beside him. She reminded him of some faithful pet except for the small fact that she was exponentially more irritating then a common beast. He could atleast tell them to keep quiet....or he could kill them. The former would fall on deaf ears and the latter, well that wasn't an option...yet. Though he was slowly begin to warm to the idea, it wouldn't exactly be easy but surely the reward was worth the price.
Aaaand it just gets better was his sarcastic thought with more than just a little spite in his tone.
In the arm of Iri was none other than the furry ball of annoyance. That midget had the pure gall of trying to touch one of his staffs. Cruentus didn't let anyone touch his staffs. He was sure that it wouldn't be the last attempt either. He had been cursed, there could be no doubt now. When he returned to the Tower he would have to do research on such things. Cruentus needed to find a way to nullify this curse as soon as possible. Otherwise he was prone to going on a murderous rampage somewhere in the near future.
By the Mythos!
That foolish girl has begun humming some god forsaken tune. Cruentus felt as thought his ears were being assaulted as he walked through the ruins. It didn't help that it echoed through the ancient walls. He willed himself to be calm with rather little success. Cruentus took deep breaths, slowly calming himself with each successive one. Finally when he believed he had reached a certain level of peace, he turned to Iri.
"You know, there is no need for you to accompany me. Indeed splitting up would help us cover more ground so we can achieve our goal with haste"
One could tell that he was being pushed to the edge for he was not a person to be so lengthy in his speech. If he could get by without uttering a syllable, then he would do just that. the Mythos only knew what sort of comments he would receive from his words. Cruentus prayed silently that they would find nothing here and leave quickly.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Jun 22, 2010 12:45:32 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jun 22, 2010 12:45:32 GMT -5
Wulf shot a quick glance down towards his Kvothe before responding Iri's question, though something told him that she wasn't exactly listening for an answer. "Love it," he said with only the slightest hint of deadpan sarcasm in his voice. In truth, however, he loved the cold. His body was designed to not only survive in freezing temperatures... but thrive.
In a random burst of thought, the creature wondered about his home world. Every species had one, yet as far as the galaxy was concerned he didn't. Adalwulf couldn't seem to find any of his fellow... whatever his species was... in the galactic databanks. Though he only did a preliminary search, he hardly had time to scour the databanks for every last race. It was saddening, in a way, to not know where he came from or even who he really was.
When Kvothe fell in beside the massive canine and spoke, throwing Adalwulf back into reality. After taking a moment or two to process what was said while his mind was away, he allowed that massive skull to dip down ever so slightly before bobbing back up again. His voice was deep, but not overly so... and had something of a german quality about it, "About thirty seconds, unless we do something. There's a difference between amusing and humane."
Let it never be said that Wulf wasn't one for antics, especially ironic humor like the type that just occurred. To anyone relatively sane it was obvious that Cruentus wanted to be away from people, especially Iri. To have her not only follow him, but hum a little tune... it was just hilarious. The otherwise serious and somewhat shy creature let out a deep and hearty chuckle at the situation, though he wasn't cruel.
With that said, Wulf sped up to a quick trot until he came up beside Iri, Math, and Cruentus. Fortunately the almost-white-but-really-icy-blue colored wolvdrachen had once again "forgotten" his staff and sword at the tower... otherwise it would've been fairly uncomfortable for both parties to have Iri ride on his back. "Iri," his voice had taken on a gentler quality, though it was still fairly harsh, "would you like to ride on my back?"
The almost white wolf dipped his torso down while looking at the effervescent young-minded girl to give her easier access to his back. Hopefully, for everyone's sake, she would take the hint and just hop on.
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Twysper
Feared leader of SM*OTTOTU.
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last online Nov 8, 2014 11:42:28 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jun 24, 2010 17:27:43 GMT -5
Post by Twysper on Jun 24, 2010 17:27:43 GMT -5
"Mathathyper Chesheervyk! That was very nice flying you did."
The Squib cheshired toothily at Iri’s compliment. The clever girl had found his weakness!
You know, besides trading.
Mathathy had quite an ego for someone of such small stature. It had been fed consistently with power while he was a Dark Jedi, and was one of the aspects that had barely faded since he had joined the Mythics. Those proven to be a reliable source of praise were valued friends of the Squib, and the Firrerreo girl was scratching his pride behind the ears expertly. And so Math offered no complaint when Iri suddenly lifted him off the ground, although he did squirm to make himself more comfortable in her wiry arms. The Squib’s hood fell off with the sudden motion, and large blue-trimmed ears tweaked with the sudden exposure to the cold, while a tapered black muzzle snuffled at the chill mountain air before sneezing into Irrisories’ shoulder.
When bright eyes turned back to face the direction Iri was walking, Mathathy noted with some bit of sadistic glee that they were following Cruentus. And the nice girl was humming. It reminded Math of his master’s initial training in the use of destruction; when the Squib toyed with captured bugs before finally squishing them.
Those that were vulnerable deserved what they had coming to them. Another one of the old creeds Math had inherited. The small, fuzzy being had an odd relationship with his current faction. He was here to learn, and had adopted and assimilated into the Stellar Mythic culture, but was still very much prone to Dark Jedi-esque thoughts.
On the other hand, Mathathy also enjoyed having fun. Some of the inhabitants of the Tower were fun.
And so everything worked out nicely.
Usually.
Math still held onto his flamethrower-staff while Iri carried him after Cruentus, that item which had notably burnt Fas’. They were starting to move through the beginning of the ruins, and the Squib’s ears noted the way his transport’s feet mostly strode on weather-worn stonework now, rather than cold, packed ground. He was content to sit quietly and freeload until such a time where he could demand to be set back down.
In almost no time at all, another member of the party had joined the trio on their scouting mission. This time it was Wulf, the really, really big, talking dog thing. The Squib mused on the current company thoughtfully, and noted that the only one of the entire group that hadn’t appeared yet was Kvothe.
Before he could say anything about it though, Adalwulf was crouching low to the ground and offering Iri a ride on his back. Math was okay with this new development. The big canine would be like shock absorbers on the Squib’s ride that was Iri, smoothing his journey.
Or something.
But then Mathathyper remembered what he had wanted to say before, and wriggled in Iri’s grip enough to face towards where Kvothe had been left with Fas.
“Is the Sword of Delinquence coming too?”
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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Jun 26, 2010 17:09:05 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 26, 2010 17:09:05 GMT -5
It seemed that Wulf was going to join the scout-ahead party too! She hoped Kvothe didn't feel left-out too, because if he decided to catch up too, there wouldn't really be any point of having a scout-ahead party. Then again, they'd be right back where they started, and Iri really didn't mind that at all. As it were, Wulf interrupted Iri's humming with the most delightful of questions. "Iri," he said, in his wolfish voice, "Would you like to ride on my back?" Iri's eyes widened until the they sparkled like two gold coins, and a disbelieving grin sent her whole face aglow. " Yes!" She quickly set herself upon the Wolvdrachen's broad back, both her feet over on his left, what a chevalier would deem 'side-saddle'. In her left arm, she still cradled Mathathy, but she buried her right in Wulf's dense, soft fur. She could feel scales underneath, and ran her fingers through the blue-white fur, catching a hand-ful so she could hold herself steady on his back. "Wulf you are marvelous!" she said, reaching her hand up to rub him gratefully on the back of the neck. The Canine's long strides brought them to the closest structure of the temple. A tall, square-angled doorway passed over them as leaf litter and soil became smooth-hewn stone. It was like stepping into another world. The floor was scattered with bits of soil and black leaves, brought by the wind and forgotten here, to gather in the corners. Rectangular beams of light came through the eastern windows, hollow stone frames. A few colored bits of glass remained along the edge, remnants of a stained-glass window. Now the glass had lost its shine and its sharpness, weathered by a thousand nights of wind. Most of the frames bore no evidence of glass, however, and Iri got the feeling this room was meant to be open, airy. The floor was level, and beyond the dirt and the weather, Iri could see large curved and triangular pieces of a darker stone, set into place, creating some sort of compass rose. It must have been beautiful, once-upon-a-time. To Iri, it still was. Across the room, on the Northern wall was another grand doorway that mirrored the one through which they'd just passed. A row of steps lead up, beyond the doorway, presumably into the next room. Sound in here was... different. It was like it wanted to remain still, it wanted to remain quiet. Iri could almost hear a breathy echo in the place, like the heartbeat of some sleeping giant. The air itself played peacekeeper here... A place so removed by time as to truly be another world... Iri remained in reverant, awed silence.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Jun 26, 2010 23:14:16 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Jun 26, 2010 23:14:16 GMT -5
The library was quiet. It always was, it's a library after all, but it was unusually so today and the silence seemed to seep throughout the entire tower. Down into every crack, penetrating every solemn soul. Magnus surveyed his domain with a somewhat vacant expression, his full attention upon the wonderings within his subconcious. Besides the occasional lost Understudy, he was alone in the center sanctum. But why?
One of the many rich mineral seams in his exonium stone ingited sending a wash of summer wind rippling across his cloak and feathers. With an absent application of will, the heat parted, snaking around his stout figure and wisking off a bit of the stone tower's chill. The stone sputtered drawing the Rishii's full attention for several awkward moments. There was something about that sound that struck him as strange, which it really shouldn't considering it did that at least once a day.
Oh. That WAS the only sound had heard all day. Now why would that be? He spoke softly to himself, if only to fill in the gap of silence that had just managed to convince him that it existed. A hopeful eye went to the stone, wishing it, willing it to make another sound. The increased glow from the seam glinted off an object below it. A flawless krell dragon scale sitting atop a polished observation tray. Maybe he could study it a bit to pass the time. Perhaps it possessed some unique alchemical properties. He would most certainly have to thank Kvothe again if it did...
Of course! No wonder it was so quiet. A talon swept over the hidden holoconsole, a literal desktop, bringing rise to flowering tendrils of blue light. Absently, his claws drifted through the cyberspace archive until, with a wave of his wing, the entire archive collapsed into a neon cube. This continued to shrink before falling neatly in place beside a number of others-- completely identical but for the simple aurebesh labels below each one. Never let it said that the Space Wizards were Space Amish; the Tower database was a collective of every activity, goal, and piece of information the Stellar Mythics had ever fabricated and/or compiled. Planetary records, individual profiles, cultural reference works, almost the entire library, even details on the Etherium drug distribution could be reviewed and updated through the databank--which was, of course, limited to very few of the higher level Mythics and likely the Understudy or two with an affinity for slicing. Darn kids.
He opened up the file dedicated to intraplanetary endeavors and skimmed through it. I do believe that boy mentioned something about an excursion to the Itzli- Mhm. Here it is... The secondary icons warped to circumfrence Magnus as the mission he selected expanded its details before him. The whole dream team was wrapped up together in this one. Kvothe, Iri, Mathathyper, the blood mythic Magnus had only ever half seen once in the deeper areas of his library, even the great wolf who drew so many a breath throughout the Tower halls. No wonder it's so quiet around here... He mused to himself.
Out of partially curiosity, but mostly boredom, he further expanded the database to encompass all general information. Sheets of text fell like tempest rains around him as every shred of information known about the Itzli mountains, their surrounding villages, relics, and climate/ecosytems presented themselves. He skimmed most with a practiced eye but paused at one entry. The citadel. That must be where they were sent. Ruins such as those dotted the surface of Aiaru, relics of an ancient world past long before the arrival of the first Mythics. Teams would be sent to any newly discovered sites to evaluate them and declare anything of importance to be salvaged or protected. Magnus found himself slightly anticipating word from the group. They were a clever bunch, who knows what fascinating discovery they may make. An ancient text perhaps, or some unknown-
A red box spun in existance beside him. An alert notice. His claws moved deflty to expand this box while a swish of his tail swept the previous files away to the side. High Alert. Heavy Unum activity in sector 12. All available Battle Mythic units are to report to the primary hanger immediately. He read quickly, unblinking, seemingly unperturbed by this information--these sorts of offensives happened fairly frequently, after all--but his mind was churning up a storm.
And an old friend noticed.
An emotion that wasn't his own projected itself upon his mind. It was a light touch, a hand from someone who was always right there. It was an expression of concern, nothing more, nothing less. Magnus' mind fingered for the old mental link, one of the few tethers of a life long past. Seek. There's a Unum offensive, moderate density but strangely loud.
Another emotion flowed into his mind from the Qom Qae, this one of deep ponderment and gradual realization. Seek was one of the few Mythics who could match the old Rishii's age and expertise. Rarely did one figure something out the other did not. The link their minds had with one another may also have something to do with it.
You see it too. This isn't an offensive... The red box was expanded bringing up an orbital map of all recent detectable Unum activity. In a flash, the Itzli mountain region was projected before him. As was the tiny splotch of red nearby the citadel. With his memory, he didn't need to be reminded that with the Mythos, size meant little compared to substance. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and the target may just be the same individual. It's a distraction.
Understanding swirled around his concious, followed by a smoldering panic. She remembered as well. Some things you don't forget. Magnus brought an arm down on the desk, dispelling the hologram. I'm going to need a pilot.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 27, 2010 16:24:13 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 27, 2010 16:24:13 GMT -5
Well, Kvothe had tried. Amusing to him Cruentus' plight may have been, but he understood that the man obviously wanted to get away from the group for a while. Of course, Kvothe was more than capable of pulling pranks or doing things to annoy others, but if Cruentus wanted to break off and scout ahead, then the young Sword would be more than willing to leave him to that. And there wasn't really any helping with Iri, being high spirited gal that she was; though, Wulf certainly seemed to be trying to get her and Math safely away from the growing ire of the Blood Mythic they'd been following.
Of course, all of them going in that direction pretty much ruined Cruentus' short-lived scouting run, since, save himself, the group was back together again. Poor Cruentus, he thought soft laugh. He just can't get a break, can he? However, the idea of someone staying ahead of the group in a position where they could watch for danger was a good idea, and since Kvothe was already separated...
"Actually, you guys go on ahead," he called. "I'll split off and keep an eye out for any danger. I'll still be near, though." With that, he turned and continued up the set of stairs, which wrapped up and around the back of the large stone square of a building. Perhaps in a little while he'd rejoin the rest of the group, and maybe switch out with one of the others.
Even the exterior of the buildings that made up the ruins had a sort of silent beauty to them. The stairs continued most of the way up the side of the structure before they leveled out into a walkway that led went deeper into the citadel, in between the various buildings that made it before angling up the mountain, toward the massive temple that was perched above them.
Kvothe's breath made little puffs of steam as he stopped, peeling off a long, thin slab of ice that still clung stubbornly to the side of the ancient walls. Beneath it, was, of course, the same austere grey stone that most of the citadel looked to be built out of. He wondered, as he walked along the icy path, what this place must have been like back in its heyday, or what it was even used for.
"Must have been a sight to see, eh Fas?" he muttered as he stopped again to look out over his surroundings. Down below was a lake, and across it were more of the large, rectangular buildings like the one they were currently at. His senses stretched out, blanketing the area around him, but other than Fas and the other Mythics that were inside, he could feel anyone. That was good. He'd hate to have the trip ruined by some unwelcome guests...
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Shadows gathered, far off on the other side of the ruins, in the larger shadow of one of the old buildings. Vorian stood at their head, lightly running a finger along the pommel of the sword that hung easily from his hip. He was awaiting word that the time was right for the group to move into position. He didn't have to wait long.
"Vorian, they've entered the ruins proper now." Vorian turned to the source of the voice to see one of the scouts--a blonde young man who couldn't be any more than twenty years old, if that--running up. He'd apparently been running a great deal, if the sweat that stuck to his brow and his labored breathing was any indication. "They've entered the first building on the opposite side of the lake. I count five total."
"Good," Vorian as he shifted his attention away from the boy and across the lake, to where the Mythics were wandering about. Kvothe was over there, somewhere. They'd have a reunion soon enough, no doubt. He looked back at the scout, and lifted an eyebrow quizzically. "I hope you weren't running because you were found out, Azeed?"
"Of course not, Vorian. I... I was just trying to get back quickly before they moved on too far."
"Good." Vorian turned to look toward Marza, the Besalisk he'd been talking to earlier. "And the distraction?"
"Our moles in the Tower are telling me that the Mythics are scrambling to respond to it." Marza crossed two of his arms and smirked. "As far as we can tell, they don't know about us."
Vorian's smirk mirrored Marza's as he turned out to look over the lake once more. Soon, the fun would begin. "Excellent." He turned on his heel, to face the group he'd brought with him for the strike. "We're here for the girl with the odd Mythos ability. Stay hidden in the shadows, and let them think themselves safe. When the time to strike comes, pull as many as the others away from her as you can; that will make it easy for a number of us to sweep in and take her.
"We have an advantage in numbers, but it's not big enough to be blown by being stupid, so please, to the best of your ability, try not to die." There were a few nervous laughs as Vorian turned and took a few steps off in the direction they'd be heading. Suddenly he stopped, and turned his head back enough to look at them out of one of his eyes. "And leave the red-headed one with the bladed staff to me. He's my brother."
Silence hung in the chilly air for a few moments as they began to prepare mentally for what was coming. Finally, Vorian gave the signal for them to split up and move out, and they vanished once again into the shadows.
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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Jun 28, 2010 5:31:20 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Jun 28, 2010 5:31:20 GMT -5
Cruentus was grumbling to himself as they entered the ruin. Kvothe had been crafty and now got to remain behind, alone. The Mythic made a note to himself to remember to do the same thing in the future. Iri was now riding the wolf's back and he could only shake his head. How could he had possibly gotten stuck with a group full of idiots. His thought was lost as he truly stepped within the first room; it really was something else.
He had sensed it from outside but only vaguely, but now it surrounded him. There was something about these ruins, they were ancient but that wasn't all. There was a feeling that Cruentus couldn't quite put his finger on. Cruentus merely stood in silence, observing the area around him. It seemed that he wasn't the only one who had been awed by this place. Maybe it hadn't been a total waste to scout these ruins out, there may have been something interesting hidden away here.
The Mythic proceed after a few moments up another staircase. He found himself in yet another room which was similar to the first. This room held the same atmosphere as the previous. Cruentus seemed drawn, as if he was being guided. The Mythos worked in mysterious ways but was this indeed the work of the Mythos. Did it beckon Cruentus towards some specific goal? It was too early to even speculate about such things.
A glimmer of light brought his eyes around to view the far side of the room. Cruentus proceeded forward to get a closer look. On the side of the wall he found engravings of what seemed to be an ancient language. He traced his hands over them but that did not bring anymore understanding. Cruentus stepped back from the wall and studied the rest of the room. It seemed just as bare as the first aside from sporadic writing.
The awe had mostly worn off by now, and Cruentus suddenly felt as if he had been idling for too long. He held no interest in such things, he was no scholar after all. They needed to see if there was anything in this place that could be useful to the Unum and that was it. Cruentus looked towards the exit of the room, the thought of having to explore the rest of the expansive rooms left a sour taste in his mouth. It looked like he was going to have to be spending substantial time with the others, though he still hadn't abandoned the idea of slipping away.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Have dakka will travel
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Jul 3, 2010 7:21:51 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 3, 2010 7:21:51 GMT -5
A low chuckle rumbled his vocal chords at girl's reaction. The little twinkle in her eye, that quirky grin, and her exclamation... it was priceless. Shortly after she climbed up his torso he remembered how had always felt odd about people riding on his back. Not that it was uncomfortable or tiring, but rather it was a new weight that he simply wasn't used to.
Originally, the Wolvdrachen planned on falling back to diffuse a potentially explody situation... but it was barely a few seconds after Iri sat on his back that he realized just how close the structure was. Falling back now would be sort've pointless. So, with a sigh, he continued onwards into the ruin.
Wulf was in the room for barely a few moments before he decided that, should he ever need to leave the mythics, he'd be content in living in that building for the rest of his life. It was the serenity of the ruin, the way that the air hung still and the sound rang back into his ears. He loved it.
Two sapphire eyes shifted about the ancient structure in a state of wonder, marveling at every brick and embellishment. The canine didn't speak for fear of breaking the shroud of silence that had been over that place since a time beyond memory.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
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Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jul 11, 2010 17:08:35 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 11, 2010 17:08:35 GMT -5
What mysteries did this place hold? What did it clutch tightly in its hands, unwilling to let any but the most special, the most trusted steal a glance?
This place was like the mind. It was like Iri's mind.
There were so many places here. Arenas. Worlds. The orderly rooms were open, so that the air could travel smoothly through as the sleeper breathed in and out.
Yet there were whispers. Whispers of something completely opposite, another face. Who had laughed here? Who had screamed in agony? Who had been validated? Who had been violated? Who had been cuddled? Who had been slapped?
These questions murmured in Iri's ears.
The temple was like her mind. The temple was her mind.
Wulf walked. He was warm underneath her. Her hips swayed to his rhythm, keeping her upper half still. Math was in her arms. He too was warm.
The air touched her face. It was cold. Cold filled your blood with living fire. It made Iri's nose numb and her cheeks tingle. Iri liked the cold. Cold bliss.
Cold wasn't really a thing, though; Iri knew this. It was an absence of heat. Cold didn't suck out your heat -- your heat ran away. Cold didn't take, didn't want, didn't ask. It was what it was.
Cold was beautiful.
So was this place, this temple, this mind. Was good like the cold? Defined like the absence of bad? If good was like the cold, then good wasn't really anything at all. And in Iri's mind, there was no bad, which meant that she wasn't really anything at all.
Good was beautiful.
Iri breathed in deep, and as she did, the heat bled from her lungs into the air, giving her the sensation of cold. Maybe good was like the heat. Maybe it gave selflessly to the cold, instead of running away. Maybe it was just naive. Iri didn't mind giving a bit of her heat to the air -- she could make more.
Iri's eyes dwelled on a passing wall. Some might have called it ugly, the way the deposited lime had caked, after years and years of rainfall. Iri thought it was beautiful. She thought it was beautiful, because she thought molecules were beautiful -- the way the two oxygen molecules bonded to the one hydroden molecule, pushing against each other and settling into a mouse-eared shape. And because they settled that way, their charges worked together, and each little molecule was its own little magnet. And those little magnets had attracted to a particle of dust, way, way up in the atmosphere -- adhesion -- and then they'd been attracted to each other, to form a droplet -- cohesion. Then that droplet had grown so big that it could no longer be held up by the sweeping winds, and it had fallen. It had fallen with a thousand others, and splashed onto the stone, where the force had broken the bond of cohesion -- but only for a moment. Then those water molecules had pulled together again, making a stream that flowed down, down with the force of gravity, across the wall of stone. And each of those impossibly tiny, three-part molecules had tugged on the molecules of stone, wiggled around them, patiently pried them, until those molecules of stone, the complicated ones with all their minerals, had lifted to the hands of the liquid water. Whisked and carried along. But then the water slowed, and the rough stone molecules caught on the surface of the wall, and stayed. And then the next piled on that, and the next piled on that, until molecule by molecule, the whitish-yellow crust had been built.
Wulf kept moving, and Iri left the ugly wall that was beautiful behind.
She left a lot of things behind. And saw just as many new things again. That is the nature of journeying, and journeying is what they were doing. Iri journeyed past, amidst, and through the temple, so much like her mind.
Time existed here, yes, but not in the conventional sense. It existed in that one thing happened after another, and only one thing was ever happening at once. But seconds, minutes, days, all those measures of time lost their meaning, because here, time was alive. It didn't tick on mechanically, dependent on perception to rate its speed. Here it jumped and bucked, sprinted and stopped, molassed and lingered.
The light dripped in through the windows, subdued, mysterious.
Iri pulled her perception back in on herself, this moment. She wasn't reigning it -- rather, she was concentrating it, making it more potent.
This moment.
This moment, another hall opened into a broad space. A new shape. This room was round. They had climbed, floated, moved beyond the squares and the rectangles, and though those shapes were still present, they took second-violin to the sloping curves. Irrisorie looked closely at the curves, judged the diameter of the circle with her eyes. Took special note of the vaulted ceiling. She recognized these angles from her study, and quickly, she plugged him into the formula in her head. Not perfect, but close enough...
"Hallo!" she cried.
The room answered back. "Hallo!" it said. "Hallo! Hallo! hallo... hallo....... hallo......."
"Rahzja!" she cried, a Firrerreo greeting.
"Rahzja!" the stones replied. They repeated the word again, and again, fading to a whisper.
Iri's lips parted in a blissful sigh.
"You try!" she whispered, nudging Wulf gently with her knee.
It was so peaceful. So serene.
She looked up to see Clamo, circling high above, near the ceiling. His red, white, and black feathers stood out against the neutral stone. Their eyes met. She smiled at him. Clamo kept her out of trouble. She felt safe with him near.
Her subconscious knew something her mind never could. It had heard things, seen things, that her thoughts had declared unimportant at the time. But her subconscious knew. It always knew. Out of those dark, inky depths was birthed Clamo, and he was circling for one reason, and one only.
Because deep, deep inside her, beyond the division of conscious and subconscious, Iri knew that just beyond the next moment lay something terribly, horribly wrong.
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Twysper
Feared leader of SM*OTTOTU.
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last online Nov 8, 2014 11:42:28 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jul 13, 2010 12:19:46 GMT -5
Post by Twysper on Jul 13, 2010 12:19:46 GMT -5
There were things, properties and laws shared even between elements that, at first appearance, had nothing in common.
Math and Cruentus were alike, though perhaps, neither understood this, and definitely didn't understand the other.
The Squib was a Mythic. The Kiffar was a Mythic. And yet they were not. Neither truly bought into the Faction deeply, as say, Kvothe did.
Ulterior motives pushed them both; Cruentus to find his abducted sister, and Mathathyper to amass more personal power.
The distinction between them rested in their attitudes. Math was chipper about the current circumstances that led him to be a Mythic, and Cruentus was irritable.
The Squib was nestled comfortably in Irisorrie's arms, content to peer at the passing, snowbound surroundings. The freezing climate had become overseer in the absence of human life. Every last stone of this temple was locked in frozen bondage. Preserved forever by the chill cold, so as to maintain their agony. The clever, self-centered ones had abandoned their carefully designed formations when their original caretakers had in turn, left them, before the freezing chill had a chance to take hold. Those stones cracked and crumbled into the ground, escaping back into the earth from which they had been quarried.
The foundation blocks were known to be the strongest, and garnered the most respect from their brethren. Where a foundation stone went, others above it followed by example, resulting in the sudden collapse of whole structures.
The number of those that had escaped remained few, but the aura of cold had loosened with each step of the warm-blooded beings, and the ancient, collective architecture was hopeful. The walls and floors had seen and heard much, bound in silence so as to not disturb the inhabitants. They were witnesses to the rituals and going-ons of the culture that was now myth to the Mythics.
While imbued with no voice of their own, they could reflect others...
Neon ears, lightly blued like ice, pointed upwards with all the sharpness of stalagmites, catching the fading echoes of Irrisorie's voice. The girl's cheery 'hallo!' had seemingly been turned into a vague warning, and the stones chanted softly in return after the noise passed beyond Irrisorie's level of hearing, 'hell, hell, hell...." Mathathyper's yellow-green eyes glanced down to look at Wulf for a reaction, as the canine had hearing better than, or on the same level as himself.
Perhaps he was occupied with something else...
The circling motion high above that made up Clamo was noted in the peripheral of his vision, Math being privy to the part of Iri's subconscious contained and displayed within her mist. While the Squib hadn't been around her long enough to get a handle on what her familiars generally meant, the girl's grip on him tightened slightly, felt a touch more abrasive on his fur, and those were signals Math understood clearly. A furry, jet black hand sought out the hilt of one of the lightsabers under his cloak for reassurance, and the other, still holding the bladed staff, wrung the leather grip.
"Irrisorie-Wulf, time to keep moving?" Math asked, before dissolving into quiet Squibbian murmuring.
The sword of delinquence and his stupid flammable cat were elsewhere. Grumpy-man was still in the room with them, but brooding quietly, near-forgotten.
But his beautiful ship, his fragile little multi-ton baby, was resting far below them, unprotected from the danger Iri had sensed! The thought drove the agitated Mathathy up the wall, and only some buried smidge of common sense kept him from pelting helter-skelter back down the mountain. The concept that she might be mistaken didn't even cross his mind, for when his ship was concerned, all bets were off.
There would be hell to pay if the Scout was damaged.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 19, 2010 18:01:13 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 19, 2010 18:01:13 GMT -5
The group was trailed by Kvothe's watchful eye as they moved ever upwards through the ruins. On and on the old citadel stretched, with old, broken corridors giving way to magnificent courtyards, surrounded by buildings that could only be described as spectacular, despite the toll that time had taken on them.
Kvothe was about halfway up the grand staircase that led to the temples up above. He stood on a balcony about that overlooked two rows of small, square buildings, some of which were starting to fall apart; a wall was cracked here, a roof falling in there--nothing out of the ordinary. There was a wide 'street' of sorts in between the buildings, worked with what might have been some sort of design long ago; now it just looked like a bunch of old, worn stones set into the old, worn stone around them.
Fas was wandering about the stairs, off to Kvothe's left. The flickercat's tails bobbed gently behind him, adding a sort of mystical glow to the area with their soft blue light. Kvothe noted with some amusement that his familiar's claws were extended, after he'd suffered through a rather embarrassing bout of sliding around on a particularly slick stretch of ice not too far back. Kvothe had been very amused, much to Fas' chagrin.
It was peaceful. Calm. Quiet. As he continued along his solitary way, Kvothe reflected that perhaps the ruins would make a good retreat, to get away from it all when needed. The Mythics could set up a few basic amenities-- with at least minimal defenses, of course--and they'd have their own little island of isolation from the rest of Aiaru and its troubles.
Would certainly be better than getting shipped offworld, he mused as he same to the top of yet another flight of stairs. Not that I can complain, I guess. Getting off of Aiaru for once was good. Getting away from all of the fighting was good. And then there were all the places he'd seen, the people he'd met... the person he'd met. Kvothe smiled, his expression changing to a sort of wistful nostalgia, longing for something that wasn't there. No, I can't complain.
He felt the others' collective presence moving on through the Mythos, and he turned to leave with a short call to Fas. Fas followed, of course, and off they went, thinking that all was right in the world. Kvothe paused one last time, turning back for a parting look to the small buildings as they just sat there, draped in snow and the blanket of silence that enveloped the place.
That silence might have been the only thing that saved him.
The sound of a boot on the stone caught his attention, and he turned around to see some person lunging at him. He didn't recognize them, but he did recognize the glint of light playing off the metal on their dagger.
Kvothe reacted on instinct; Pietas became a blur in his hands as it shot out to crack the assailant in their left knee. The heavy head of the staff slammed into the joint, though said assailant was lucky enough to avoid getting hit by one of the blades. Still, the blow sent them tumbling with a yelp and their weapon clattered loudly, breaking the silence as it bounced across the frozen ground.
He moved to place the lone blade on Pietas' thin end over the person's neck, but Fas beat him to the punch. Gone was the gentle blue of the feline's bio-luminescent lights; now they were an angry red, and the oh-so-deadly barbs that tipped each tail hovered inches from the man's body.
"Who are you?" Kvothe asked. His voice was hard, his eyes a mix of orange and gold. While he didn't know the person, there was a growing suspicion in his mind about how the man swore his allegiance to. Very few people attacked Mythics, and it didn't make any sense for some random stranger to be out here on his own. Did it? Perhaps it was simply a suspicion born of the hatred for the Unum that burned so hot in the depths of Kvothe's heart, but the man's chances of surviving the night weren't looking very good; Kvothe did not spare traitors. If he was some random person, he'd still have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, after trying to kill a Mythic.
The fallen man groaned, but gave no answer. Kvothe kicked him in the ribs. "Answer me! Why did you att-"
Suddenly he was airborne, flying backwards as if some giant invisible hand had simply picked him up and thrown him. He grunted in pain when his back slammed into the courtyard and the air was knocked out of him. The Sword groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as the world spun around him. What's going on? Who... What happened?
It was with another groan that he opened his eyes and started to sit up. Pietas was a few feet away; he'd dropped it during his short flight. Kvothe suddenly found himself thanking whatever gods would listen that he hadn't somehow maimed himself on Orcus, which hung behind his waist, free of a sheath. Never mind the pain, that just would have been embarrassing.
He reached out to the Mythos again, now that his head was a bit clearer. What he felt made him freeze. There were multiple presences nearby, moving up toward the other Mythics. Normally, that would have been cause enough for alarm in and of itself, were it not for the other presence he felt behind him. It was a familiar presence--one that Kvothe could identify in an instant, even though he'd not felt it in years.
Kvothe stood to his feet and turned around, and there, standing with his sword drawn was his brother. Physically, Vorian was much as Kvothe remembered, though his shaggy black hair hung freely about his shoulders now, rather than in ponytail, as it usually did.
A strange mix of fear and rage exploded through Kvothe's mind; red mixed with streaks of yellow and gold in his eyes and his face distorted into a scowl. His hand went to Orcus' hilt, though he did not draw the sword yet. "You. What are you doing here?"
Vorian shook his head amusedly. "Good to see you too, Ishar. Some friends and I heard that there were some marvelous ruins out here, so naturally, we came to look." Vorian's eyes, which were gold with streaks of silver throughout locked with Kvothe's for a moment and then he smirked. "Imagine our surprise to find a group of Mythics. Then, imagine our surprise to see that strange power the girl has. So now, some of them are off to go greet her, if you will."
"What?" Kvothe's mind was reeling. There were more Unum members here. They were after Iri. "I have to-"
"You won't be going anywhere," Vorian said. As he spoke, he gestured toward Kvothe, and the Sword was lifted into the air. "You and I need to have a little chat." Kvothe was sent flying again, through one of the gaps in the wall of a nearby building, and into the darkness.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
3,801 posts
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last online Sept 16, 2018 19:37:00 GMT -5
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Jul 20, 2010 19:24:50 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Jul 20, 2010 19:24:50 GMT -5
With the Mythics scrambling to aprehend the Unum 'offensive', there were very few ships remaining in the hanger and even fewer decent ones. However, the particular shuttlecraft he now paced about in was older than dirt, maybe even older than him! That said, while it had plotted the spacelanes for over 100 years, it had survived every last one of them and its integrity was nothing to shake a feather at.
The pilot informed him that they were approaching the mountains--in the form of a long, winding path with a shining end in sight--but she could not proceed much further. Another image flooded his consciousness, this one spiraling down closer and closer to one of the craft's stabilizer's. Leveling out along its surface at a near microscopic viewpoint, he could see what was impeding their travel: water particles congealed and formed into sheets of ice with frightening rapidity.
Magnus checked the navicomputer and made his decision. I would not endanger you or your craft. I need you to return to the Tower. Find anyone who will help.[/color] The Rishii turned and shuffled to the rear of the cabin. Open the hatch.[/i]
Seek's response came in the form of solemn understanding, with an underlying concern for his life. No. Not his life--just life. The Qom Qae was a being of the bigger picture. She didn't see things as they were, she saw them linearly. This wasn't just Magnus' life at stake, it went on to those they wished to protect and all that those would go on to watch over in their place. It traveled back, as well; back to all who gave their efforts and lives to bring the galaxy to this point; back to dear Neunn first stepping onto the very ship he was now preparing to dive off of. Life, in her mind, was a single entity, but the individuals who made it up must be tasked with its continuation.
The hatch cycled open and Magnus was immediately buffeted by the harsh conditions that endangered the ship. He found himself hunching against the sudden cold, borne atop the back of a wind that ruffled his feathers and leached the warmth straight from his skin. Resolving his will, he stood straight against the elements and took a step towards the howling opening. He shouldered off his robes, the wind doing most of the work for him as it whipped them away. Beneath this, he still wore a simple leather harness adorned with a multitude of pockets and several more drawstring pouches that had been tied alongside them.
Seek touched his mind once more, but what came was not the imagery with which she normally communicated. Good luck.
He smiled inside, but his expression remained resolute. The icy peaks of the Itzli Mountains stretched into the snowy mist in every direction below him. Now they thrust from the sky above him. Below again. No breath to be had, but no time to take one regardless. Brown dappled wings flaired out. Wind rushed through them. Flight.
An air current, prevelent and powerful at such high altitudes, cut across these wings throwing him off-balance. Wind was no hazard, no foe. Wind had been his friend in all of his lives--from surfing thermals over the spires of Rishi, to fetching books that eluded his grasp. Now wind was his to command. The air current shifted, snaking around him, realigning. It was a tailwind now, propelling him in his descent and into the white horizon.
Passing through a cloud, he felt the vapor condense upon him. His wings became heavier as they were laden with water droplets and a chilled shiver ran through him. A quick roll dispered the water, but the cold remained. How miserable yet typical. He began to take inventory of the misfits to keep his weathered mind off the, well, weather.
What was it about Kvothe that made him so enticing to trouble's bloodhounds? Sure his brother held high power in the Unum but it wasn't like he had a chip implanted into his brother's neck. At least not as far as Magnus knew. He would check later when he was treating whatever new mortal injuries that Rilan was bound to assume the property of.
Iri was fascinating, but utterly clueless. At that very moment, a Unum thug could have a knife to her throat and she would merrily singing a nursery rhyme or inquiring to her assailant if he/she was any good at Uno, carpentering, freestyle skating, or whatever other nonsequitor that cacophony of a mind conjures up. Her little (and hopefully a few not-so-little) subconscious spirits might try to put up a fight, if she doesn't have them currently occupied at an imaginary tea party.
Cruentas. Enough said.
Adalwulf Magnus still knew very little about. For such a large being, he was so seldom seen and even more seldon spoken to. Despite this, of the entire group, he at least seemed the most likely to foil whatever ill will was planned for them, and/or would not be a sheer burden.
Speaking of sheer burdens, he at last came to the Squib. There were times when the dimunitive, chipper creature was useful, mostly when someone required technical assistance, but most of time Magnus was made to consider just how palletable he may be. With this group's incredibly lucky record, he wouldn't be surprised if Math himself sold out their location for a ball of alluminum foil.
Structures far too geometric to be natural began to form in the mist. He could feel the presences of the others now...and several more. The wind picked up. He only hoped he wasn't too late to save the poor saps.
A surge in the Mythos pressed against his senses. He felt through the holy energies and the wind that carried them. They sang to him of currents unnaturally altered. Ventakinesis and not his. Ughh. I'm getting too old for this.
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