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 Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 6:37 pm
{Rizel} Startled by the sudden appearance of the black hawk, though quickly sensing it’s magical presence, Rizel stops, as does the hawk. It transforms into a woman, though a malevolent-looking one. She is a witch, same as herself.
Frustrated that the other witch seemed to be jumping to conclusions, Rizel transformed back into a pale human, equally naked, though her wild golden-brown hair left nothing to the imagination. Shamelessly she stood before this witch whom she had never seen, glaring angrily with piercing, bright blue eyes. Rizel did not expect everyone to understand that not everyone could be saved; such was the natural way, but Rizel had never done a cruel thing in all her existence.
Rizel had fled, humbly sure she could not fight The Beast alone. She was unaware that there were other people, people with powers, proceeding to The Beast to fight it. Rizel’s lips hardly moved as she spoke quietly, though with evident, taut irritation.
“And why are you here?” she asked, in her syrupy, dreamlike voice. It would have no effect on this other witch though, Rizel knew; it was just her natural voice. Her gaze never faltered form the other’s eyes. Rizel had been still as stone since she had become human, save for her pale pink lips.
Without waiting for an answer, she suddenly turned and headed into a different part of the forest to retrieve her clothes. Hopping into them with little effort, having practiced countless times, Rizel now sprinted toward the beast, her cape fluttering wildly behind her.
{The White Witch is here}
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 11:39 pm
 The ebon skinned woman watches wordlessly as the fellow witch reverts to a flustered, agitated human woman again. Iris did not doubt in the slightest that the woman's frustration was accompanied by an inner monologue attempting to justify her earlier actions of cowardice. Her flat, unimpressed expression remains as constant as her ever probing stare whilst the woman flares back with irritation. It was probably best that the poor creature did not wait for an answer, seeing as such an inane question really didn't warrant a reply anyway.
After the delightful woman stalks off, Iris backs into the darkness of the brush from whence she originally came. A second later, the black hawk silently bursts through the foliage and into the darkened sky, steering once again for the crimson storm.
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 11:47 pm
 Aww... departing so swiftly, dear? I do believe that's the most of you, in all your unclad glory, that anyone other than myself has ever seen... and you didn't willingly show me. Now what spurred you to go pest that poor little doefawnhealerflusterednaked person, hmm? A little odd for you... and a little odd that you'd be in the area where the "Beast" was making another raid... any explanation for your dear, inner-monologue whispering delusion?
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 4:30 pm
Urban Thorne Now what spurred you to go pest that poor little doefawnhealerflusterednaked person, hmm? A little odd for you...
First off, the woman was in such a state of blind panic, then later anger, that she really had little interest in my state of dress. And secondly, the attentions of a witch who turns herself into a gender-confused deer when frightened is a matter of supreme indifference to me. It is reflecting upon her person that of all the animals she could have chosen to emulate she picks the single most hunted creature in the forest, then gives it horns like some sort of hermaphroditic mishap simply for some semblance of protection. Even as such, the sheer level of cowardice of her act was only magnified by the fact that she had just saved the woman and child's life, only to immediately abandon them to a death far worse than the ailment she took care to banish. Although I care not which by which fate they meet their end, I thought it prudent to intervene on her behalf to snap her out of her own fear before she embarrassed herself any further. If the rogue weave handlers are going to be of any use in vanquishing this threat to our forests, they are going to have to develop a level of tolerance for the unholy.
Besides, I would much rather have them take on this scourge then myself. The thought of getting tangled into a long-reaching conflict against demonic masses is not terribly attractive. If infuriating her now will save me some inconvenience later, minor indiscretions are forgivable.
... and you didn't willingly show me.
There is almost a hint of amusement in her thoughts this time. Now we both know that it is unnecessary for me to find myself in a state of undress for your pleasure. As if there is a moment of the day when you do not have at least a partial eye gazing in my direction. and a little odd that you'd be in the area where the "Beast" was making another raid... any explanation for your dear, inner-monologue whispering delusion?
I simply followed the Angel. I've never seen them in battle. I'm hoping there comes a point when he reveals his wings. As I understand it, the colour of their wings is a reflection of the purity of their soul. If this runaway Angel has been corrupted, his wings will show some imperfections. I'm not sure if they will be speckled with grey or otherwise tarnished somehow, but I am rather curious. Enough so that I am willing to stay long enough to find out.
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2009 4:37 pm
Hmmhmmhmmhmm... a very... colourful answer to the topic of the other "witch", my dear. And a very apt one... indeed, deer are even the preferred prey of most predator animals, let alone the ones that walk on two legs rather than four, or not at all. Try not to speak too ill of her, however... the "Beast" has been raising such a muck that most people's instinctive response is to flee... it's just a matter that you decidedly, and pointedly, ignore your instincts, my dear. As to the angels... hmm... I think you'll be getting quite a show indeed. The wayward one is here, and unless I am mistaken (and you know how likely that is), there should be a second joining the fray soon... quite fascinating. Two angels, and three "heretics" in the same area, at the same time... do promise to at least participate a little, my dear. It would be quite the waste, otherwise.
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2009 8:16 pm
 Never mistake tears for sadness...Her only response to his reassurance was a soft almost inaudible sigh that was not so much in relief as in exasperation for her over-active imagination. It seemed she was subconsciously convinced that she was not, in fact, picked for her admittedly unique skills but rather for the fact that she was a social pariah and some repugnant deed had to be done or some such. Eva knew it had to do in part with the natural caution that had become so much a part of her over the long years. People lied; it was a part of human nature although a darker part that was not openly supported. However, Uriel was an Angel. That meant something. A small, traitorous part whispered a small reminder that the woman with whose death she had been charged with (should things go badly) had once been a cardinal but it was a voice she had learned to ignore. Another small part of her offered the quip that there was a large difference between the two positions.
As Uriel took another of his seemingly characteristic pauses, Eva took the time to get a feel for their general surroundings. Inwardly she was calming slowly as usual before any fight. There was simply no room for any emotion but calm when engaging an enemy. She had never been sure why such a strange emotion as peace should be what greeted her the moment she drew near to danger but usually just chalked it down to the fact that there were reasons for her outcast status. She wasn't normal. This was hardly a new concept and so it rarely came as a surprise when more evidence that she was different came up. Eva was a strange being as a whole. And far too introspective for my own good, she mused quietly.
As he spoke once more, she drew one of the mage killers from her quiver and tested the edge. Satisfied by the small cut that now graced her finger, she sucked on the wound lightly till the bleeding stopped then nodded once in acknowledgement. The plan was a simple one but practical.
"I shall pray that you succeed in your attempt to convince Johannes of the truth but should the need arise...would he not attempt to protect her if he is so sure of his convictions?" ...that will only bring you grief.
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Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2009 4:06 pm
[Apple.Tequilla] "I shall pray that you succeed in your attempt to convince Johannes of the truth but should the need arise...would he not attempt to protect her if he is so sure of his convictions?"   Uriel's lips parted to offer a response almost immediately... but no words emerged, as he considered. After a moment's thought, his gaze shifted to Eva and gave her a long, considering look... almost as though weighing her question... and her. But the moment quickly passed, and he turned to face the trail ahead of them.
"...I had hoped to avoid this particular line of thought, but... your question is a valid one, and deserves an answer. It is an uncomfortable question, however, for it brings us back to the topic of atonement that I mentioned when we first spoke, Evalin. For you see," Uriel murmured as he looked down at the hands on his reigns, his expression becoming more sorrowful. "...I was given an instruction, before I left. The Archangel himself commanded me to take the action most appropriate to the situation... and that Johannes and his compatriot, the heretic, were to be judged based upon my unique abilities to see the cleanliness of the soul... of the intentions. Johannes is able to be redeemed, Evalin... but his heretic witch is not. She must fall, whether or not I succeed in convincing my brother Angel. We cannot have her returning to the Cathedral, and causing another uprising."
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Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2009 8:09 pm
Never mistake tears for sadness...[Ack, yes. Sorry. A slip of the keyboard. Edited. ^^;;]
"I understand sir."
Eva spoke clearly and without hesitation though inwardly she sighed. Her question had not been so much in way of spareing the other woman's life as it had been in worry of his safety though Eva was somewhat glad he had mistaken her on that count. Reconsidering the fear, it was certainly a ridiculous one. As long as she did her part...she rolled the arrow absentmindedly in her hands as the acrid scent of smoke drifted towards them. Her horse snorted softly, shaking it's head in an effort to rid its nostrils of the stench. Closer and ever closer. She paused for a moment then shook her own head to free it of the last clinging vestiges of worry and doubt.
"I shall be on my way then if that is all...?" ...that will only bring you grief.
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Posted: Mon Jan 12, 2009 4:12 pm
[Apple.Tequilla] "I shall be on my way then if that is all...?"
With that, Uriel wheeled his horse, and set it galloping towards the town just ahead of them. Perhaps they would not be arriving quite as late as he had expected... perhaps he could even catch a glimpse of this enemy of the Cathedral... this Beast.
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Posted: Tue Jan 13, 2009 2:07 pm
Never mistake tears for sadness...Urging her horse into the quickest gait she could manage, Eva scanned the area for a suitable perch. The answer came in the form of a very tall, very ancient dying tree which was rather fit to the cause for which she would use it. Dismounting swiftly, she took a moment to gather herself then ran forward a few steps and lept into the air. Her right hand just brushed the branch but her left had a strong hold on the rough bark and it was a simple matter afterward of swinging herself onto the branch itself. Reaching back to her quiver, she made a silent count of the arrows then smiled. None missing thoguh there was still a whole tree to climb. With a slight grimace she reached for the next branch.
Soon enough she was swaying gently with the tree as she straddled the sturdy though flexible branch and strung the bow which seemed no worse for wear though her clothes could not say as much. Sap stained the cloth and debries clung to her hair. Still, it was nowhere near her worst climb. She counted the arrows in her quiver once more though whether out of paranoia or habit she wasn't sure. Selecting the arrow that was already stained with her blood, she whispered the string of syllables which sounded so much like the wind in the trees. As the last word echoed faintly her vision doubled then tripled in strength. For a moment she was lost to the vertigo and could only cling weakly to the branch as it threatened to overwhelm her but it was over quickly enough that she did not fall.
As she looked over the land with new eyes, she sighted Uriel and instinctively tensed. A few moments of calm left. Pulling the bow up she knocked the arrow but left it at rest. Not until the witch was in sight would she pull the string back. It was an action similar to swinging a sword. Once started, one could not stop the action. There could only be completion, follow-through. Breathing in deeply, she held the air for a moment then let go of it slowly. A few more moments of calm and then... The horse whinnied softly below and pawed the ground nervously. Eva focused on the sounds of the horse below as her gaze followed the Angel into the hellish battle. ...that will only bring you grief.
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Posted: Fri Jan 16, 2009 8:52 pm
As Johannes charged through the riling chaos of the ensuing battle, racing towards the huge figure enshrouded in smokey shadows by the flames about it, he drew from the saddle-straps of his horse the two, long-bladed butterfly swords that were his normal weapons of choice. Thick-made, the swords tended to strike from horseback (and afoot) with terrific force, which meant that any of the smaller demonic creatures that dared to try and impede his path were cloven aside, the deep wounds either slaying immediately or leaving them mortally wounded. These things were of little concern, however, for the massive, serpentine-like figure of what could only be the Beast itself was beginning to clarify in the red-hued smoke ahead of him.
As Johannes drew within range, only the sheer proficiency of his riding managed to keep him in his saddle as his warhorse suddenly panicked, the sheer feeling of the Beast filling the air around it with a fear easily as tangible as the smoke from the demonic fires raging where once people had lived. As the sound of his horse's hooves thundered on the rough cobblestone, the Beast turned, addressing this intrepid threat. Rearing a full third of it's body from the ground, a strange, monstrous conglomeration of corded muscle, protruding bone-like spikes, rough-grasping tentacles, and over-sized, yet disturbingly human-like arms made up the thick trunk of this almost necrotic-looking creature. Somewhere near the top of the corrupted-looking serpentine body, roughly three meters off the ground, a malformed cluster of tentacles and arms parted, revealing a gigantic maw filled with blackened, slavering teeth of horrific visage... and a roar that made the very stones about Johannes and his adversary tremble with the forcefulness of it.
For a brief moment, Johannes just stared at the monster... between it's appearance, it's size, and the sheer feeling of evil it seemed to radiate, his senses were momentarily stunned... but a sudden rearing of his horse snapped him out of the trance almost instantly. Realizing that his horse was unreliable for this, Johannes issued a challenging cry of his own, and gathered his legs beneath him on the saddle for just a moment before springing forward and off his mount. Displaying a surprising level of acrobatic skill, he brought the keen-edged butterfly swords fiercely down in a set of parallel strikes as he passed over the lower trunk of the Beast, leaving deep slashes in his wake before landing smartly on his feet. Spinning to face the Beast once more, he fiercely pushed his attack, dodging or slashing away the various intrepid tentacles or arms that reached for him as he continued to try to inflict some injury on this mountain of necrotic flesh.
At the very outskirts of the village, Uriel had heard... and felt... the Beast's roar. His angular features had become even paler than usual, but he offered no hesitation as he surged forward on his soot-coloured mount. As the various demonic servants lashed at his beast in passing, Uriel extended his left hand, his dark eyes half-closing as he offered his prayer. A dark energy seemed to slowly gather about his hand, slowly shifting into the form of a viciously bladed weapon... a scythe that was never dreamed of being used on a crop. Using his knees and heels as the guide for his horse, Uriel made his way through the minions much as his brother had, both hands working the haft of his scythe to sweep the heavy cutting blade on both sides of his horse, clearing the way.
As Uriel reached the battle, however, the dangerous footing of the churned ground and the burning ruins finally betrayed his horse. A hoof suddenly plunging into a flame-covered hole, Uriel found himself flung from his wildly-screaming mount. Instead of the painful tumble, however... Uriel released the binding ritual that held his form in place. Sweeping from beneath his dark-coloured cloak, a massive pair of ebon-feathered wings surged forth, carrying him past his brother and the "Beast" he battled. In his passing, Uriel brought the scythe across in a vicious sweeping slash, opening the necrotic-coloured flesh rather deeply for several feet along the serpentine mass of their foe, adding one more injury that the creature seemed to ignore to the list of wounds that Johannes himself had been steadily inflicting.
With the added distraction of Uriel's contribution to the fight, Johannes strove to inflict deeper, more telling injuries on the creature, desperately hoping that this slash, that stab, one of those arms crippled, would finally seem to register on the Beast. But as they both struck their blows, and desperately tried to fend off the myriad of attacks launched from numerous limbs, mouths, and bony appendages, it quickly became clear to Johannes that this Beast was not going to be felled by any weapons they possessed. Stealing a moment with a deft series of parries and back-steps, Johannes looked to his brother, and saw a similarly grim expression on Uriel's own face. Using the moment of room he'd won himself, Johannes shouted to his brother, "Uriel! Help me try to banish it! Start the Chant!"
Uriel seemed to falter faintly as Johannes's shout reached him, but a surging leap to the side managed to help him avoid more than a tumbling landing, and the bruises therein. As he rose, his ebon-coloured wings half-flared open as he shouted a divine Word, the appendages surging towards him suddenly jerking, and coming to a twitching halt as he got his feet under him, and raised his voice in an archaic chant that those who spent time in the Cathedral might recognize, at least in it's conception. As Uriel began the chant, Johannes also issued forth a similar Word, one of very few he had remaining before his divine energies were depleted, and moved quickly back, adding his voice to Uriel's chant. In mere moments, that feeling of evil that permeated the air about them started to have a strange feeling of confinement... almost as though being pressed back towards the Beast.
As the environment around it began to radiate the holy energies that the two Angels were calling forth, the "Beast" seemed to coil into itself, it's serpentine length thrashing in futile fury against the assault pressing down upon it, which it seemed to have no ability to fight against. Soon, even it's roars, once ground-trembling, seemed to become muted compared to the divine words filling the air about it. As the ritual rose to it's climax, the spell of concealment on Johannes finally broke, allowing the great, snow-coloured wings he kept hidden away to unfurl in their full glory, the purity of their colour standing almost defiantly against the necrotic colours of rot that the "Beast" was made of, and the colours of ruin and destruction surrounding the pair of Angels. The ritual finally came to a close, the two brothers shouting the final syllables of the chant in a near-deafening roar of sound, and the creature offered a final weak-sounding cry of anger and despair, before it seemed to collapse in upon itself, and vanishing... leaving only the acrid smell of it's rotten presence behind.
Once the Beast vanished, the sky over the village slowly seemed to bleed away the red colouring, and the demonic minions rampaging through the streets started desperately fleeing towards the rift that had allowed them access to the village, leaving behind only the destruction they had caused, and the quickly rotting corpses of those that the warriors had dispatched...
(( More coming, my lovelies... gimme just a bit longer... ))
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Posted: Sat Jan 17, 2009 2:28 pm
{Rizel} The sight of the newly burning village ripped at Rizel’s heart, the sheer power and multitude of the Beast and its minions dominating a village that had been still not long ago left a strong image. Enraged, she hurried on, her lithe feet hardly seeming to touch the rough earthy floor as the village came into clearer view.
Much to her surprise, Rizel quickly spotted other people, human-looking. She was instantly wary of her position and their unknown alliance and skidded to a stop. Her eyes darted from person to person, desperately trying to determine how she should continue. As the heavy seconds passed, Rizel decided she must do something, even in the presence of these people. She took off again, intending to search for and evacuate any survivors, though her heart was heavy with doubt.
Before she slipped into the maze of flames, Rizel stopped to gaze at two humanoids sitting upon horses. The sight was slightly annoying, but she had no time for that. Making sure she had their faces in her memory, Rizel turned her attention to speak a spell that would better her breathing in the blanket of a smoke, and another to help fight off any demons she might encounter. With a slight glow surrounding her body and a white-blue light emanating from her hands, Rizel slipped out of her long cloak and delved into the burning, destroyed area.
Searching frantically and fearfully, Rizel came upon no live citizens, though countless blackened children, mothers, fathers, and elderly plagued her path, their faces frozen with terror and unrest. The demons and imps were distracting, always popping in her way with their horrid, appalling shapes. Concentrating the extreme anger she felt, Rizel swept them aside with her glowing hand, resulting in a sharp hiss and then a dull thud. The hellish creatures did manage to leave several serious cuts upon her body, though Rizel paid no mind.
The roars of the Beast repeatedly filled Rizel with terror and a quickened heartbeat. She was desperate not to be seen by the enormous, intimidating creature. Despair began to fill her heated body as no living thing was to be found. Stopping to peer around for the safest path and listening for sounds other than the intense flames and rattling roars, something caught her eye. The Beast was thrashing about wildly and it’s deafening cries seemed to halt while a different, more pleasant sound took its place. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the Beast fell and vanished. The sky slowly returned to it’s normal color and the demons fled. It was a strange, magnificent sight, leaving Rizel confused but thoroughly gracious amidst the flames.
{The White Witch is here}
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Posted: Mon Jan 19, 2009 8:16 pm
  With a sibilant hiss of metal against bone and flesh, Asmyrra pulled Daedris free of the shuddering demonic beast that she'd been spending the last minute or so fighting with. Scattered about her, in a somewhat discernable path leading towards the center of town, a small, but respectable number of the various demonic minions lay scattered, felled by the sweeping slashes that were so characteristic of her sword-fighting style. As she whirled quickly from her most recent foe, slanted violet orbs fiercely scanning about her for the next threat, her attention caught on the changes that were starting to come about... the sky returning to a normal colour, what was left of the little devils and demons scurrying towards the rapidly closing gate, the absence of the earth-trembling roars of whatever Johannes had found to occupy his attentions... and a faintly wry smile crossed her dark-coloured lips
"...show-off, finishing before I managed to reach you...", she whispered, her thick accent showing a hint of weary amusement. Straightening slowly, a pained wince crossed her angular features... her battles with the minions of the Beast had certainly not left her unmarked. But, there was definitely a remedy to this, and the wince turned into a fond, if weary, smile as her mind conjured the memory of her conversation with Johannes as her hands quested through her pouches, finding the ingredients for her spell. "You men might think scars are attractive, but women don't, mostly... especially on other women. We are supposed to be smooth, unblemished. I forgive a woman that has a few marks that tell a story... but too many scars? Means she was either doing something she should have avoided, or was doing something poorly... which is why I fix my scars."
The weary smile turned decidedly impish as her mind played the words of his response, "So which of them applies to you?", and she offered a faint shake of her head, slender fingers opening the bottle of carefully prepared water, and a soft chant began to emerge. Johannes had told her once that when she performed this ritual, he felt tendrils of energy used rather similar to his priestly abilities, though markedly different... and now, beyond being a concession to her personal standards, it was something of a symbol. Johannes learned to associate the feeling of this spell with a symbol that Asmyrra had finished her part in things, and was well enough to be joining him soon... and as the chanting began, it took very little time for the faint, but clearly discernable energies to begin to build up. It was a long, very elaborate spell, but Asmyrra had long considered it worth the effort....(( Sorry for the delay on this post, my lovelies... IRL's been kicking my tail lately... ; ; ))
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Posted: Mon Jan 19, 2009 9:44 pm
Never mistake tears for sadness...Eva watched with fear then awe as the Angels battled the Beast. For a long moment she lost herself to the story unfolding before her. Even from her distant perch the creatures bellows made her ears ring. She gasped softly when Uriel's wings appeared and laughed slightly at her folly. What was an Angel without wings? The contrast between the two Angels was striking though as they worked flawlessly together to bring the foul Beast down, hope began to rise within her. This could work. It would work. She only had to do her part. She grimaced as she remembered why she was even here at all. Uriel's voice echoed softly in her mind as her eyes searched the battlefield. Johannes is able to be redeemed, Evalin... but his heretic witch is not.
Hope continued to fill her with a strange sense of peace as she searched out her target. There. The ex-cardinal was unmistakable. She had always stood out at the Cathedral much like...well, much like Eva herself. Letting her eyes close ever so slightly, she breathed in deeply and brought her bow up. Pulling the arrow back, she sighted on the woman and whispered a quiet prayer. "Fly true," the words left her lips as the arrow left her fingers. It sped forward towards the target, the arrow head glowing a fierce red. Eva's gaze was locked not on the arrow but the woman; waiting for what she knew would happen. What had to happen. ...that will only bring you grief.
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