isleofavalon | January catch-all (open)

WHO: Emet-Selch and whoever
WHAT: Questing and getting up to (hopefully minimal) trouble
WHEN: January
WHERE: Camelot area
WARNINGS: Implied body horror for first prompt. There may be mild spoilers so let me know if that's something you want to avoid.

1. Bridge to the Other Side (Knight quest)

If he were in possession of his true magicks, Emet-Selch thinks sourly to himself as he gazes up at the bridge trolls surrounding him, then these beasts would be vanquished without a second thought.

The one in front of him leers and jabs a blunt finger in his face. "Hand over yer valuables if ye know what's good fer ye, little man."

He's sure that the brutes would be more intimidating to someone of shorter stature. Frankly, they would be intimidating to most anyone possessed of weaker wills. Emet-Selch, however, is not intimidated.

"I'm afraid I really must get by," he says evenly. "Don't you have better things to do with your time? Say, slavering over whatever it is you things eat?"

This produces a raucous round of grunts and laughter. Sighing, the Ascian unbelts his grimoire and flips through the pages to a new alchemy circle he has drawn for this precise situation. Actually, while he's at it...

"To me," he says quietly. His familiar materialises out of a swirl of shadows with a growl. At his silent command, it starts to glow and ripple violet. Emet-Selch's eyes glow bright gold and an arcane wind whips up around them, forcing the less self-assured trolls to back up a step and look on fearfully. A strangled gasp. He doubles over, convulsing - the gwiber joins itself to him, body and all, granting him part of its form and its power.

He is still a man, but he is also a dragon. His eyes gleam bright violet with gold edging, wings tear their way out of the back of his vest and shirt, flashes of dark indigo scaling harden across swathes of skin, and his hands and feet grow into thick, lethal claws. Most importantly, however, power thrums through him. Not nearly the same as what he ought to possess, but enough.

"Shall we see what I can make of your blood and bone?" he says, before bursting out into a guttural laugh. He holds the grimoire out before him, readying his spell for whoever attacks him first.

2. Shadlin Shakers (Knight quest)

It's quiet in the woods. Too quiet. During the day they had been unremarkable, and someone with less care for their work may have been content to leave it at that and leave before dark fell. However Emet-Selch, for all his laziness, believes in doing a job properly. He comes to the woods in the late afternoon and stays until night darkens the land. There are many creatures who won't show themselves except under cover of darkness. It is these creatures he wishes to see - if aught exist.

Fortunately for him, they seem to indeed. He can see and feel their eyes staring at him from out of the shadows. They aren't too unnerving at first, but the deeper he heads into the woods, the more their gazes bother him. He has grown used to making himself the centre of attention (for the greater good of his people) but he always had moments of reprieve. Private moments to himself and spaces to retreat to when it grew too much. Ultimately, the silent blinking eyes of the Dusklight Woods grows unbearable and he finds himself pivoting about, shouting.

"Are you quite done staring?!"

3. Reflections in Crystal (Mirror, Mirror TDM prompt)

Another cave. Emet-Selch strides in without a second thought, wishing people would stop hiding precious commodities in these dank sorts of places. Things would be so much easier if they had their necessary materials somewhere easily accessible.

Just as he's thinking this, an image begins to form before him. He halts, frowning suspiciously as the image wavers, clears, and materialises upon the ground. Not just one but many scattered all about the floor of the cave. Bodies. Cloaked in the dark robes of his people but he knows by their heights that they aren't his people.

"What trickery is this?" he mutters, walking over to one and nudging it over with his foot. It rolls over, white, nondescript mask falling from their face to reveal a lifeless Felih.

He reels to his feet. Checking the others reveals more familiar faces: those of the people he has grudgingly allowed himself to care about. Irhya, Jophrey, the matriarch, and more from long, long ago in his past. And past them all...someone standing before an altar to Zodiark, dressed in Ascian robes with a jagged staff of violet crystal in one hand, made again in the image of his god. He knows who it is before they turn around.

Is that how he looked like before? Cold, lifeless eyes behind a red mask sweeping detachedly across the dead. His illusory self fixes its gaze upon him last.

"Necessary sacrifices to bring back our star," the other him says. "Mere fragments, unworthy of your time."

There's another figure lying on the altar behind them. He steps around and feels his stomach drop. The name slips from his lips before he can stop himself.

"Hythlodaeus..."

Lying bloodied and mangled, as he remembers seeing them in the aftermath of the Final Days. But it's clear Hythlodaeus is not part of the other sacrifices littering the cave floor. No, those sacrifices are for him. His people. To bring them back to life.

He backs away feeling numb. This is the cost, writ plain as day. He has succeeded in ignoring it for so long but the toll is laid out for him to see. Everywhere he turns, another body. Closer to the walls, they pile so high as to nearly reach the ceiling. If he were to approach and turn over each one, he's sure he would recognise every face.

The other him lays an ethereal hand on his shoulder and leans in, whispering. "Why do you hesitate? Are you afraid? Then allow me to dispel your doubts..."

It raises its staff and the staff begins to glow. Emet-Selch doesn't seem to notice, rooted in place as he is and staring at the countless bodies stretching before him.

4. Wildcard

If you have other ideas for a thread using prompts either from the questboard or the TDM, send me a PM.

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"The light would only serve to darken the shadows," he says tersely, clicking his tongue to summon his own familiar. The gwiber's wings do glow slightly but not enough to significantly illuminate anything. "Irhya, I will watch our backs."

He draws his grimoire out, ready to cast the spells on its pages.

Even with her eyes designed to see in deep darkness, Irhya can't quite make out any details, but whatever it is, it's big. Really big. And when she turns a walk into a run, smashing her sword into it without hesitation, it's no easier to identify the creature.

Not to mention her sword just seems to... glance right off. She doesn't hear the rip of flesh, or the clanging of metal, or any pained screams. It's just silence, and that's even more unnerving.

Then, there is a repulsion, like two magnets of similar poles being forced apart. She resists at first, but the gravitational push eventually overpowers her small frame and sends her into the mud a fair distance back. Certainly, she could approach again... but if her sword is ineffective, what's the point in provoking it further?

(Her familiar does little to aid her except scurry away when she falls into the mud, so as to avoid splattering it all over her fur. Thanks, cat.)

"Well," she says, picking herself up from the dirt, "that did not go as planned..."

As much as Hythlodaeus would like to keep calm and do something useful in the situation, it's still his first time in real combat - any kind of combat, honestly, and he can't help the panic and fear that fills him at seeing Irhya fall.

"Irhya!"

He moves to run over and help her up, but the growl from the creature, seemingly darkness made manifest, stops him in his tracks. His eyes dart between the monster and his friends as Hythlodaeus tries to figure out who it's going to go for first. But if Irhya's sword is useless... does that mean the thing is impervious to physical attacks?

What of mental ones?

Though Hythlodaeus knows his magic isn't exactly combat-oriented, he has to try at least. He focuses, trying to discern the creature's mind, find a way in or at least a thread to connect to--

But much like Irhya's sword, his magic first feels as though it's sinking into a deep abyss - and then is thrown back, amplified. Hythlodaeus staggers, clutching at his head, disoriented - and making an attractive target, apparently. The massive shade lumbers towards him, picking up speed, as though intending to lunge itself at him.

Even tossed to the side, she's quick to pick up on Hythlodaeus's fear, and feels something well up within her when the shadow goes after him. She hoists herself to her feet and dives in front, hoping to parry it and give him some time to get away.

Of course, most creatures that have claws have two of them. So where one meets metal, the other rips into her arm, tearing her sleeve and creating some nice parallel gashes. Irhya swears under her breath, then swings her blade horizontally to try and get some space between them.

"Anytime you wanna call it," she grits out, "it seems as if we need to reassess the plan--!"

"Irhya!"

He starts forward without thinking, only to check himself when the thing turns towards him. Gritting his teeth, he snaps his fingers and says tersely, "Nyx! A wall!"

The gwiber barks and there's a dim flash. A brief glimpse of an alchemy circle. The earth shoots up between them and the creature, forming a wall of packed soil and ice. Hades hastens to take both Hythlodaeus' and Irhya's hands and draw them back.

"Let us get somewhere safe for now. The wall will not hold," he says tersely.

Edited 2021-01-24 10:07 (UTC)

Mounting her sword quickly, she leaps back behind the wall as it rises, then makes a displeased noise as they start moving. "Damn it all..."

Going back the way they came is easy; losing the creature is even easier when they have a head start in the dark. As soon as it's safe to do so, she tries to disengage her hand from Hades', pausing a moment to catch her breath.

"Well... that evidently isn't going to work, if there's something guarding the path."

Hythlodaeus is easily the most shaken one of the three, despite having fared least badly - but it's still dawning on him that a lifetime of leisure in a peaceful city doesn't make the best background for participating in combat. Much like Irhya, he lets go of Hades's hand, if only to hide the shaking in his own hands. That was more adrenaline and guilt than he's had in the last decade put together.

"...I'm sorry, you two. I did not expect we would run into aught like that... We ought to turn back, a-and Irhya's wound needs treating."

He swallows a lump in his throat. Studying anatomy is one thing, seeing a friend's arm cut open is a completely different thing, especially when he knows it was because she had to protect him. He's not so stupid as to blame himself entirely, but it's still an unpleasant feeling.

"We've come this far and only run into a creature guarding the path, Hythlodaeus. 'Tis nothing."

Or at least, he wants to believe it's nothing but... He looks to Irhya. "Was your weapon not effective against its hide?"

"Apparently not," Irhya says, throat dry. "I think I'll be all right until we get back, though. Just think of it as more to try my magic on."

She's good at ignoring the pain in favor of holding fast, for other people's sake. Too good, perhaps, for the wounds still bleed sluggishly under her sleeve, staining it dark red.

"What about you?" she asks, directed at Hythlodaeus. "Will you be all right? I know it probably scares you a bit..."

(OOC still so goddamn salty my first tag got eaten and I can't for the life of me remember what exactly it was like.)

Hythlodaeus nods - he's scared, alright, but right now there are other concerns.

"...I'll hold on, but truly, I am more concerned for you, Irhya. As the one who proposed this outing in the first place, I say we head back, no matter what Hades thinks," he adds, looking over Irhya's head at his stubborn friend. "And... if there is aught we can do right now to at least stop the bleeding, we should do that, too."

Hythlodaeus shakes his head, feeling wretchedly helpless.

"If you lose too much blood, we'll be at even more risk, and who knows what else might lurk nearby?"

He sighs, looking away. Like it or not, returning to Camelot may be the best course. They don't have the equipment or skills (or magical power) to take on an unknown beast. Not when they also have to protect Hythlodaeus.

He suspects his friend is more shaken than they're letting on, too.

"Irhya is a healer. Mayhap you have a point, however. Frustrating though it is to have come all this way with nothing to show for it." He glances in the direction they had run from, wondering what else may lurk in the darkness. "Next time, we will come back with a larger party. There must be something which can injure that thing."

"I can at least seal the wound quickly. I'll take care of the rest when I get back." Leaning against a wooden fence, she musters focus enough to force the blood to coagulate rapidly, slowing her bleeding until it trickles to a sluggish stop. It still hurts, though; she breathes out a hard sigh when she pushes off from the fence again.

"See? You don't have to worry." Irhya smiles up at Hythlodaeus, nodding. "I'm sorry you had to see that, at any rate."

January catch-all (open)

the light bridge said he's good so he's good >:T

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oh my god what do you mean its been almost a month.... what the fuck

time is fake :')

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