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 Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 10:49 pm
"Get inside and find the others," Sicily called, distracted by her attack being blocked by the giant shadow. Damnit, why did Jorianth have to do that? It was time to pull out the big guns.
She only hoped she had enough energy to actually do it. Taking a deep breath and doing it as quickly as possible, Sicily let out a loud, piercing shriek from her beak, calling out to some of the larger light spirits that had hidden away from the shadows.
They came, two twin white light dragons twisting around eachother in glee. Finally, they were being called into action - Sicily's familiars. Or, rather, what she had made her familiars during her time lost beyond.
The addition of light dissolved the giant shadow (or at least parts of it), leaving Jorianth open to attack. It was Osrit's turn.
The gnome, now just as tall as Jorianth, stepped in front of Sicily. The form would be a shock, to say the least. "Remember me?" He asked, mimicking the voice near perfectly.
===
Narcus did NOT like this. The feeling of being unable to walk normally. Why the ******** was this happening? Confusion showed in his shadow eyes and he hissed, trying with new resolve to get closer to Cri though he was making little progress. Deciding that it was not the time to try something that was seemingly impossible, he stopped and threw the scythe, it shattering into ice shards headed straight toward him. Hopefully the time magic wouldn't stop IT too.
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Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 11:19 pm
"Remember? Hm, let me think." His voice was flat-toned, no doubt unamused by the situation- where was that blasted idiot, Arisin, anyway?!- and the taunting face of the one that had nearly sent him to a final death so long ago was no more pleasant for the shadowmancer. Still, the spirit wasn't about to let himself look intimidated; his face bent in a snarl, even as something flickered in his eyes to suggest that Osrit had found an edge.
The flicker was gone as quickly as it had appeared, though. "Ah, yes, I do recall. I owe you a return favor, don't I?" With a slim smirk, the shadowmancer lifted his hand up above his head. No attack was this, but a signal- the sign they'd been waiting for given, dozens, if not hundreds, of the lurking shadow spirits descended down upon the battlefield. Their target was Osrit; their tactic was dogpile. By sheer weight of numbers, they would try to leech into the light creature's energy, and see if they couldn't take him Down to the lower levels.
But with that, Jorianth's trump card was played. The rest of the battle, he would be fighting on his own merit.
Ut-oh--!
Cri probably should have expected such a move from the shadow twin- but, sadly, the light spirit hadn't kept its wits about it. Warming up into a battle was hard work, after all, and Cri's focus had always been waning at best. With a startled grimace, the light spirit slipped one foot forward and took the only effective dodge it could come up with; leaning way, way back, it slid down until the back of its head was touching the ground, hands still templed above its head as it sucked in its breath and tried to maintain itself as close to the ground as possible.
It had mostly worked, too; but first blood was Narcus'. One of the shards dragged a long line across the light spirit's cheek, and another, angled more downward, cut a deeper slit through one of its legs.
The time spell was still in effect, though, as the light spirit drew itself immediately back to its feet in a smooth movement, one that would be nigh impossible to anyone not a master of the martial arts. "Heeey, that stung!" Cri complained loudly, face pouting.
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Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 11:32 pm
Thae stared at Sicily's back. Get Inside. Find the Others. Okay, sure...that was a good thing to do. It was simple, to he point, easy to remember. Now, it shouldn't be too hard! Taking a quick look around, Thae spotted the doorway that had to lead into this 'inside' that Sicily spoke of.
"OKAY! I can do this. You can DO this, Anethae!" Thae told itself sternly. After taking a deep breath, the once-spirit brought one knee forward, as it had always done in the spirit realm. An unmoving and equally unsteady few seconds later, Thae fell flat onto its face. OKAY. So the whole walking thing again...it'd have to get used to that. Pushing itself to its feet again, it slowly took its first few steps into its second life. Having walked before, it didn't take Thae long to get the hang of it, and before long it as striding towards the door. Once it got there, it glanced back once into the Gardens, at the chaos that was ensuing.
By the time Thae stepped foot inside, its appearance was settling down from its spazztic changes. Thae's new body had settled on being female, her height around 5'7"; the same as Neveah's, though this body didn't possess the slightly elongated look the butterfly woman once had. Her hair was fire red with yellow-orange tips, settling on being brushed towards the right and layered, the longest locks reaching her shoulders. Her eyes were angled and aqua, like Neveah's had been, and, like the butterfly woman, Thae possessed small antennae-like growths that popped out three or four inches from her skull. The jewel on her forehead had a blue glow to it. Clothing-wise, Thae had doppled what Neveah was wearing; simple baggy jeans and a yellow tank top; the spirit had no choice, it had some manner of decency. Thae no longer looked like Neveah, yet she no longer looked like 'Thae', either. Thae looked like both, and yet neither at the same time.
Of course, like everyone else, her colour was being sucked out of her, and it was happening to her just as sowly as it had happened to everyone else in the headquarters.
"I need..." Thae said slowly at first, this first pitch of her voice sounding eerily like Neveah's. "...I need everyone in one room..." Now, her voice was her own. "NOW, please!" Thae had no idea how to go about this but...this seemed the best route.
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Posted: Mon Dec 11, 2006 6:33 pm
Sicily trusted the spirit to do as she was told and instead focused her attention on the battle before her. Osrit was being mauled by the shadows and valiantly trying to fight them off, but he was losing - and the light from her friend was definitely fading.
"Two can play that game, Jorianth," She hissed, clicking her beak furiously as she took steps towards the gnome, frantically summoning up lesser light spirits that would otherwise be used as soul fuel. They dove at the shadows in an attempt to drive them away, pecking at the darkness just as furiously as Sicily's beak had snapped.
The dragons, quickly becoming bored, looked at each other with a grin on their faces. One nodded to the other before they both dove at Jorianth, one of them shooting white-fire straight toward the shadow mancer. Unfortunately, the power drained it quite badly and by the it got to him, he was only able to pass through and disappear to regenerate.
His sister, however, was still going strong and raising a claw to hopefully catch him offguard. She, however, wasn't as graceful as her brother and would likely screw THAT up.
====
Ha! First blood was his! But damnit, this thing had quite the moves. Narcus would definitely have to think fast if he were going to outdo the little twit that his betters so obviously hated.
He was starting to see why.
"Good," he hissed, frantically trying to draw at his energy so he could recharge his ice. If he got the time magic out of the way....
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 12:33 pm
The shadow spirits were not easily forced from their attack- having had the advantage of numbers over the gnome, they were eager and overeager to see the job finished. Many of these spirits owed their connection to one of the higher-ups to their survival on many occasions; they often enjoyed something of an immunity to the more clued-in of the weaker spirits in between, able to use the knowledge that Jorianth would be very displeased with any spirit that would dare to take a useful servant's energy. More than any particular sense of loyalty due to that, though, they simply did not want to risk facing the shadowmancer's wrath if they should abandon the battle.
But that fear-inspired selflessness would only last them so long, especially so when they were facing an equal swarm of light creatures. Some of the shadow spirits began to peel off; many grabbed what energy they could from the surrounding spirits and fled, while others focused their attentions directly on the attacking light creatures and fought directly. Some still clung to Osrit, determined to see the job through and milk their advantage for all it was worth- seeing so many of their fellows fleeing or breaking off their focus, though, they quickly realized that they were in need of a new tactic, or else they'd be in deep trouble. Without any better inspiration, the spirits began to try and bear the light creature off, away from the swarm of spirits; he was weakened as was, maybe enough so that the remainder of shadow spirits could work together to finish him off if they could get out of the range of interference.
The shadowmancer hadn't forgotten the presence of the dragons, not at all. As the pair swooped down, a feral grin swept over Jorianth's face as he took a stance of readiness at their approach. "You fools." Not even the stream of fire billowing down toward him, only partially defending against by a flimsy and half-hearted shield of energy, set a hint of concern in his expression- for, whether they realized it or not, the dragons had just made a very fatal error in their approach.
They had both come at him from the same direction, when there was no form of light source behind him. The light from themselves, the other light creatures, and the fire, all combined, had just done the unthinkable. His shadow was all but dominating the far side of the garden, and as the last of the flames prepared to fade and sister dragon came to attack, the shadowmancer gathered the shadow about him and properly readied himself for the combat at last.
The shadow receded from the wall; tiny little whirls of darkness licked over Jorianth's limbs; much in the manner that it had when the shadowmancer had been angered with Narcus, the air around him grew dark. Only this time, it wasn't with his own energy that it was doing so- no, that would mean that he was wasting his energy, and would suggest a lack of control and weakness. This was with the sheer force of the shadow. The air around him wasn't filled with energy- it was filled with weapon.
This shadows took little time adopting a more physical form for the spirit to wield. Jorianth's already overlong claws seemed to grow out as the harnessed shadow added to its length, giving him impossible reach; webbed blades outstretched from his back, functioning as wings and weapons both. Two scorpion-like tails swept down from his spine, each ending in a nasty spike. Heavy plates formed over his chest, legs, and arms, armoring him against physical strikes, while a pair of thick horns covered and protected the sides of his head. All this, and more to spare; the air around the shadowmancer was still thick with unharnessed shadow, ready to be reformed or consumed as his needs dictated.
A swift tendril of shadow caught up to grab around the dragon's claw, prepared to sap away at her energy from the moment it touched. "I thank you, pest, and your sibling," Jorianth murmured quietly, regarding the burns he had sustained and deciding them well worth the advantage gained, "for your kind contributions to my shadows...." More tendrils lashed out at the dragon, trying to drain her clean; the shadowmancer himself, however, had apparently found no reason to attack her. He had plans of his own, and his eyes were locked on Sicily.
"Ohhh, okay. I'll share!" Ever the generous soul, Cri gave no real resistance as it meted out a portion of its energy for Narcus, gladly letting the twin take it.
After all, thus far, his time magic was only affecting Narcus from the outside in, which was forcing the light spirit from being able to take any offensive action against the twin. There was no better tactics Cri knew than to let its opponents absorb a bit of time-tainted energy, and be slowed from the inside out. The most notable difference between these two states was that, when Cri was casting and maintaining a slow spell (and thus was unable to act otherwise), the subject would perceive time as normal, and simply be unable to act at a pace according to the normal passage. This would last until Cri ran out of energy, or until its hands parted and the spell was broken.
Once they'd soaked in some of Cri's energy when Cri had properly prepared it, though, their perception of time would change; everything would be moving much, much faster than they were used to, and though to outside perceptions they would still seem to just be moving slowly in relation to everything else, they personally would have difficulty making heads or tails of what was going on. Besides which, then Cri wouldn't have to be contributing to the upkeep of any spell, and could move to the offensive. This would last until the subject had burned through the last of the time-tainted energy, at which point they would perceive time as usual.
Confident that the bait would be taken (he didn't think that the twins were very bright, after all), Cri gladly unclapped its hands and took a leap of faith forward. A few good kicks to that overinflated head might straighten a few of those crooked tendencies out, don't you think?
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Posted: Thu Dec 21, 2006 6:32 pm
Osrit was so tired, so tired of being bombarded and he was only clinging because he was sure that Sicily had something up her sleeve. Unfortunately, she seemed too stunned by her dragons doing such an idiotic thing.
At least, that's how she seemed. The empath sent a quick message to Criantor, hoping to whatever gods were listening that he'd pick up on it and ask no questions. Or give it away. The message was simple: Give Osrit his energy.
It was a lot to ask, but Sicily was already moving on and trying to claw her way through the shadows to get to the shadowmancer. The shadows were trying to drain her, despite the fact she wasn't physically close - it was her mental energy that they would detect. In a display of light and glory, her tail fanning in an attempt to distract stray shadows with the energy dripping off it.
Her mind was reaching out, finding the path of emotions that she knew Jorianth had. Be they anger, hate, or fear, whatever they were, she could use them to her advantage. Grasping the mental threads she gave a pull and sent her own emotions of determination, love, and light towards him. They traveled swiftly, almost too swiftly to dodge. Jorianth should not be expecting an attack from an empath in such a way.
She was breaking her oaths.
Narcus? Narcus gave a horrified scream as Cri's energy entered him and slowed him down. All the world seemed to stop making sense and he swiftly, or as swiftly as he possibly could, turned tail and fled. Cri was right - the twins WERE idiots. And wimpy ones at that.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 7:24 am
Give his energy? Really? An open pout wiggled onto the spirit's face. Cri'd only just rendered Narcus ineffectual, and now he was expected to lay down hisenergy and leave the battle?
But eh. Cri had a sense of humility, and knew well that Sicily would not ask such a thing of it unless the motion would be more effective for this battle than he could be. Though he hardly liked the thought; Cri had wanted to get a chance to slap Jorianth around, at least a few times... alas, it was not to be.
Giving distance between the time-slowed twin, Cri struggled a moment with the decision of how much energy to offer to Osrit; then, recognizing that Sicily would certainly not have asked unless it was a dire need, relinquished a full level for the use of his comrade. Criantor himself would be unavailable to assist further in the fight, perhaps, but between a powered-up Osrit and Sicily, they should be able to handle Jorianth on their own. Maybe. He hoped and had faith in them, at least.
Sicily was most certainly right in her assumption; Jorianth had been foolish enough not to guard himself in such a manner. For what reason would he, after all? Sicily was aligned with the light; her word was her vow, and the empath's oaths were nothing he was unaware of. Besieged quite suddenly by an influx of disgusting, weak emotions better left to the imagination, Jorianth was shaken and taken aback; flinging his arms in front of him defensively, as though that might somehow fend off the outpour of goodness, the emotions found for a moment a strange home, a reminder of what the shadowmancer had once been....
Then were swallowed up in an uprising of smug, snarky, ugly glee.
Still reeling somewhat from the attack, the shadowmancer was laughing as he cloaked himself further in his magics, shielding himself more properly.
"Ah, Sicily, dear. Each day passes, and I see you coming closer to me." Barely visible through the thick veil, Jorianth was wearing that insufferable smirk of his. "First the betrayal with that spirit, which could almost be forgiven- after all, you'd followed the word of your promise, if not the intent. But now this? Breaking vows? No matter the name of the cause you do so in, Sicily, you damn yourself in the name of the power you seek to wield. I'm quite pleased, actually. I wonder how far you've been corrupted, now? In the name of your cause, what other atrocities would you commit?"
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