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Draedamyr

Draedamyr

Mage Hunter
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Draedamyr had returned from his journey with Velaeri and had immediately sought out an establishment with a well stocked wine cellar. He wasn't an elf with a love of the road or the forests. He enjoyed the finer things available in the cities of the world.

He swirled the burgundy liquid around the crystal glass and took a sip. Five years old, not exceptional quality but incomparable to the cheap local beers he'd been drinking recently. There was character to a wine. Town beers were essentially bitter water, fit for the human peasants.

The glass stopped just an inch from his lips. Draedamyr was no wizard, but he often hunted them for a living. He knew the odd minor elven spell and - more importantly - could sense its use. A minor spell was being cast nearby. He lowered the glass slowly to the table, fearing that it would have to wait. His sword hung near the door, watched the the staff of the inn. This was a civilised establishment after all.

Through murky windows he could see the sky light up. The windows rattled in their frames. Not a minor spell nearby, something far more powerful further away. He ran to the door, wine abandoned. He opened the door, jostled by several others.

The sky was on fire.


Abjurer
Jame Hawthorne
Keiran MacArthur

A third level assassin of the Order of the Steel coin has tracked down an elven sidereal elf. Failing to catch him unawares she now has to battle him head on. Powerful, dangerous magics are unleashed without consequence as they battle for their lives. All magic has a cost, but these two are powerful and know their lives are on the line.

Creatures of shadow and fire are summoned to do their bidding but will be out of control

Guards of Allira will start to surround the district but not intervene until reinforcements arrive.

My usual open thread guide:
  • No strict posting order
  • Watch the thread
  • I have no end in mind above what is written above (no DM'ing here)
 
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As human peasants often did, James Hawthorn sat at a table with his second mug of beer, though he’d only been there for a short few minutes thus far. In truth, it was supposed to be a shortstop, a stop between here and the brothel down the street, but as the scarred man glanced up he watched as the room seemed suddenly far brighter than before. Interest peaked in the bounty hunter as he glanced back, feeling the wafting levels of magic radiating from beyond the crowd now forming between the door and windows.

Just as his brow cocked, a shockwave ripped through the air, glass from the windows shattering as chairs were slid across the floor and men dropped to their knees from the noise. James quickly covered his own ears, but watched helplessly as glass from the windows swirled about the room and ended in his beer, forcing a hefty frown on The Wolf.

He had hunted mages before, but anything past what people considered ‘adept’ was generally out of his pay grade. They were notorious for destroying neighborhoods, ending armies single handedly, and more importantly ruining perfectly good beers with the best head he had seen in years. As the shockwave passed, the distant roar of magic became the background noise all had to bear, and James grabbed his sword with haste before moving towards the crowd.

“Anyone see the source?”, he asked as he noticed for the first time how bright the sky above was. Cloud reduced to cinders, waves of energy, and him the mundane to deal with its after effects.

“Oh, Gods, that’s not good…”, he said as he betrayed his usually monotonous tone with a bit of fear.

Abjurer │ Keiran MacArthur │ Draedamyr​
 
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Chain mail and plate armor clinked rhythmically as the young man jogged through deserted streets. It hadn't taken long for the hustle and bustle of the city to retreat indoors; Alliria knew what to do when trouble came calling.

In the scared silence, Desmonthenes was about as subtle as a Giant's laugh, and near as loud. His Allirian Guard armor did little to slow his run- he'd been training in it for near 4 months, now. The longsword at his side bumped and jostled a little, but Dez didn't mind. He had a feeling he'd need it soon.

The Guard had been ordered to cordon off the district, wait for magical reinforcements, and to NOT under ANY circumstances, "bugger it up". But Dez hadn't left his home in the country to follow orders. He hadn't come to the big city 4 months ago and enlisted to do as he was told. Desmonthenes was looking for magic.

And from the looks of the sky, it seemed he'd finally found it.

A shockwave rippled through the city, coming from the direction Dez was headed in. His run stopped as he braced himself, the force sliding him back along the cobblestone. Then it faded, and a grin came over his face. Nearly there.
 
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It was nice to be back in civilization, the long trip up north finally coming to an end, a trip that had been cute short by some unfortunate circumstances. Well unfortunate for those that died, it ultimately proved useful to her and the cults she ran away from prying eyes, so many wayward soles from the destroyed village looking for salvation and a god that would listen to them. over all fruitful expedition but now she needed some sort of break from that all, sadly it seemed fate was not on her side... or was it?

Her 'gods' were the ones of destruction and deceit, perhaps being in Alliria when a sudden magical battle broke out was all for the best. Looking up her face wore a coy smile at the sight of the burning sky, the shaking of the ground and the flashes in the distance quite the show, only problem was some guards had blocked off the streets. Stepping forward her eyes fall upon what seemed to be one of these guards, who immediately blocked off her path. "Sorry sister we can't let you through, it is hazardous ahead".

She gave the human a small eye roll and sigh, "let me guess waiting for your own little magical people to get here? may take a while those spells a more then anything a simple academy robes could take on... I wonder who is fighting"? her little question got the desired effect, the guard turning around to look at the sky, muttering about how things were 'fucked and screw and that he wasn't getting paired enough for this. Just the right amount of time for her to use a small amount of magic to cloak herself and slip by, the elf nun moving into the contested area, letting her magic down when out of sight from the guard.

"I have a feeling things are about to get interesting".
 
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Today was to be his last day of comfort before he set off to live among the rift raft he now called his own. A serendipitous run in with a Keturrin proved to be the starting point of an exciting venture, which meant a return of a more familiar life style for the man of the Spine. The last few days had been securing contracts and items, finding he'd rather take care of such work as oppose to handing it off in which lead to the startling conclusion that he had control issues to a certain degree. Today however, he promised himself and his new tribe that this would be a day of peace, for the pain he knew he'd unleash upon them in training warranted a day to relax. Secretly, he hoped they would drink themselves silly so he could show them the dangers of giving into such delights. When called to action, he wanted them to firmly understand the difference between a well rested group and one that had to deal with a binge.

Thoughts pushed aside, Honi moved to the stable which housed his horse. He knew the Allirian steed needed to stretch his legs and promised to take him out soon but before so he asked Fayarri Nefarrat to meet with him. Despite initially tying to rob him of his belongings, he found he got along well with her and her general catty-ness. He had voice his need to become familiar with the city and was hoping to have her show him around.

That train of thought changed as the clap of the first explosion bellowed out, giving the man a startle. He had stopped in his tracks before the stable, looking in the direction of explosion in wonder. Attack? The thought crossed his mind before looking back to the stable master. "Watch my horse!"

It came out more as a warning then a suggestion.

Moving swiftly, he began to push past the throngs of people who rushed by in a panic. He moved with urgency bearing two concerns while pushing aside one person after the next. The explosion came from a district his people normally didn't venture into, however he had asked the Keturrin to meet him close by. His second worry was how they were going to work this into their advantage.

Breaking way from the crowd, he used a trick the gang had showed him. Thanks to how tightly packed the cities construction had been, sometimes it was easier to traverse along the roofs. Scaling the side of a building, Honi hoisted his frame upward as his hands found purchase along gaps in the brick and mortar. Clambering onto the titled roof, he'd pause for a moment to take stock on the billowing black smoke that shot into the open sky.

Never a promising sight... He thought as he took off towards the carnage.

Abjurer │ Jame Hawthorne │ Draedamyr │ TheScarletDastard │ Viktoriya Antonov │ Fayarri Nefarrat
 
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The sights and sounds of the city surrounded a secluded park, one of the many green spaces within the city. Vaenan stood, his forehead pressed to the bark of a solid oak tree as he calmed his racing heart. Travelling through the forest had him in far closer environs regularly, and the number of creatures had to far outstrip the number housed in a city, even one as large as Alliria. Yet, from the moment he set foot within the stone walls of the city, the looming stone edifices on every side of every street seemed to close him in. The teeming masses of people, so like the termites of the deeper glades, caused him to feel like there was no escape.

He'd wandered almost aimlessly, trying to force himself to accept the fear and overcome it. He had found this green space, and soon started to feel better.

Then the sky lit up with fire, and his own plight was forgotten. More thunder rocked the city, and Vaenan found his limbs moving. He quickly climbed the tree, then leaped from it's branches to the branches of an adjacent tree. He worked his way to the wall surrounding the green space, and then was onto the rooftops. They were more even and regular, but his body responded only to the need to aid. His mind wasn't worrying about the city just now.

Abjurer | Jame Hawthorne | Draedamyr | TheScarletDastard | Viktoriya Antonov | Fayarri Nefarrat | Honi
 
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Ambroz Baros began the day as he did every day. He woke at precisely six hours after dawn and allowed himself several heartbeats before he forced himself out of bed and stumbled over to the nearby basin to wash his face. Three intervals of twenty seconds each, stopping in-between to re-douse his hands. He dried his face with a handy piece of cloth and began to dress in the same garb he wore every day: voluminous green-blue robes over a simple tunic and trousers, a pair of sturdy boots, and a hat. The hat was the only variable item of the outfit -- Ambroz doffed either a wide-brimmed wizard's cap or a nightcap based on the weather. Both were blue-green of course. Today he chose the nightcap, fitting it snug against his head.

Thus garbed, Ambroz proceeded to gather his necessities. His spectacles he grabbed from the beside table, his satchel from the room's chest, and his stave from it's position by the door. All were useful in the day-to-day -- the spell reagents and runic trinkets inside the satchel hardly needed an explanation, and the stave was good as both a cane and a bludgeon. The spectacles, of course, helped him see who he was bludgeoning.

His morning preparations complete, Ambroz could finally face the day. He was currently residing in the Withered Herb, an inn in the city of Alliria, while passing through on his way to the Eretejva Tundra and his home in Vesturfjord. It was a triennial pilgrimage he undertook, both to see the home he loved and to broaden his horizons in the wide world. Being clustered away in the libraries of the College was certainly enjoyable, but it didn't provide quite the same experience as personally exploring the land. More importantly, while the College's resources could help him, only the wider world held what he needed to complete his magnum opus.

His stomach rumbled. It seemed, Ambroz mused, such thoughts would have to wait. He exited his room and made the trek to the ground floor of the Withered Herb. The floor was bustling, barmaids rushing to-and-fro to meet the steady stream of people coming and going as they came to be fed and were fed.

" 'Liz!" Ambroz called over the din, looking at one barmaid in particular. A nice girl, young and ambitious. Hoped to open her own inn one day. "The usual, please!"

'Liz blinked at Ambroz. The old bastard knew she preferred Elizabeth, but getting him to actually acknowledge that was a fight she had long ago given up on winning. She had known him since he walked into the bar seven years ago, when she was still wet behind the ears, and knew well the cheer he derived from such mischief. She gave him a wave to let him know she had heard him, purposefully ignoring the fact that he was currently using his stave to push a snoozing drunk from his seat, and made for the kitchen.

Ambroz, meanwhile, made himself at home in his new chair. Seriously, some people, just passing out on prime real estate during the morning rush. The failures of the current generation truly were endless. In any case, 'Liz brought him his usual not too long after, and he dug in. Burnt bread, a mug of some herbal drink he was too scared to investigate the contents of, and a side of eggs. Mm. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to chat with 'Liz. He usually liked to when he could, but, alas, the morning was a busy one for the inn and she was equally busy.

Vowing to seek her out for conversation later in the day, Ambroz paid and left the Withered Herb. It was time to get to work. He had supplies to buy while he was in the city and there were several rumors he meant to investigate, especially one pertaining to a ruined castle and a magical artifact. He began on his way down a packed market street to the first store on his list. Best to get the essentials done before he began chasing down rumo--

Boom.

Shutters rattled, glass rained from store front displays, and people began to scream. Ambroz stood mid-step, frozen. It was clear why.

The sky was on fire.

 
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Draedamyr stopped dead in the middle of the street. He rolled his shoulders instinctively to avoid being thrown to the ground by the drunken idiots rushing past them. He was too distracted by what he saw to point out that those one were running towards the danger. In his centuries of life this was one of the sights of such terrifying beauty that he wanted to commit it to memory in detail.

Clouds - not clouds - a rolling mass of black formed high in the sky. Like a flock of birds changing flight it suddenly veered downwards. Another flash and fire leapt up to meet it. Where the lines of shadow and flame met the air itself seemed to break. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and the elf darted behind a building.

It was lashed with flames a moment later, the raw heat reaching his exposed skin even on the other side. All thoughts of trying to hunt the mages responsible for the coin fled from his mind. Not only were the allirian merchants stingy, but this power being unleashed was beyond control.
 
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"No! Get back!"

Desmonthenes shouted his warning before taking cover in an alleyway between two tenant houses. The next second, fierce flames engulfed the street, roaring as the oxygen was sucked from the air. Without looking, Dez knew the fools he'd yelled to were gone; after heat like that, he'd be surprised to find even bones. They had clearly been intoxicated. Feeling a little cooked in his plate and mail, Dez thought that their tragic fate was an excellent microcosm of his rationale for being a teetotaler.

Cautiously peering around the corner, the young man gawked at the impressive display of power before him. How many other innocents had perished in this battle, besides those drunken fools? Was this what Dez was looking for in a teacher?

He pounded the wall beside him angrily. What had he been thinking? He'd run to the battle, the chaos would stop, and he'd politely petition to be apprenticed to one of the dangerous denizens now laying waste to the district? Idiot! Naive bumbler! Dez felt as stupid as the drunks he'd just watch run into an inferno.

The young man left his hiding place, running along the now-charred street, searching for survivors. All his life, Dez had wanted to be a Mage.

But not one like this.
 
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Shouts and sounds of pain, ahh it was something she could never truly get tired off, the cries of the helpless and weak, begging for their lives. Weather it be to their gods or anyone around to help, such reckless and primal urge to stay alive was what she lived for. Unfortunately those would have to wait, and die, there was little she could do to save those unlucky soles, not with the place bared off by the city guards. Still if she couldn't attain more followers who were apart of this attack perhaps the fall out from it could turn some people her way.

Just thinking about it cause a tingling sensation in her skin as she stalked down the alleyways towards the heat of flames. "Ah the feel of flames, such a nice sensation, I wonder who is in charge of such reckless behavior". She turned into a main street, just in time to hear the sounds of someone calling out 'No! Get Back". The warning had severed well but it was of no matter, the Nun seeing the oncoming flames well in advance, the women smiling a little as the sudden burst ripped towards her. "Oh my, what fun".

Raising her arms Viktoriya threw out a barrier made from her own flames, as the oncoming ones got close they merged together, rolling over her position much like a wave. The flames did not touch her per say but the heat was defiantly felt, her skin singing a little from the shear power of the blast. "... wow, this person is certainly no armature", even with her protective clothes on, ones made especially to deal with fire. Dusting er robes off she scanned the street, it's surface chard to a crisp no, everything that had once littered the area had been vaporized, all except one person running from cover.

"Hey you there", she called out, running up behind the short curly haired man, trying to get his attention, hopefully before the next wave of smoldering fire came down upon them.TheScarletDastard

Draedamyr Abjurer Vaenan Honi
 
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Jame Hawthorne TheScarletDastard Viktoriya Antonov Honi Vaenan Abjurer

Where the flames met shadows they broke into sparks and tatters of absolute darkness. Where they fell they reformed and took new shapes. Humanoid forms of shadow ran towards beasts of flame and the battle continued on the ground.

Draedamyr breathed slowly. The air itself almost burned his lungs every time his chest moved to draw it in. He needed a route away from this place, but he had no notion on where the mages actually were. At the least he could go away from the fire.

Something dark move on the edge of his vision. He turned with blade drawn as the creature of shadow rushed towards him.
 
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Jame Hawthorne TheScarletDastard Viktoriya Antonov Honi Draedamyr Abjurer

Vaenan stopped at the edge of a roof as the flames came closer into view. His nostrils flared, the scent of the fire scorching the air with acrid smoke. The brightness of the fire caused the shadows to deepen where the light couldn’t touch. The principals in the cause of the flames were not apparent as of yet, but the scrape of flesh on stone below drew his attention to the streets below. He saw an Elf, blade drawn, facing the shadows between the building Vaenan was on and the next one over.

Vaenan could fight on foot, blade in hand, but that was not where his true talents lay. The city was not the center of the natural world like he had been surrounded by during his training, but the natural world existed everywhere. He reached out with his mind and called out to the natural world around them. A soft, verdant glow surrounded his hands as he molded the energy. He turned his palms up, sending the energy into the air above them. The sky directly above them darkened as a small cloud formed above them. The ground below and the rooftops close on either side of the alleyway grew damp as rain moistened the surfaces. He sent still more energy into the small cloud, attempting to draw down lightning.

He drew a bolt to his hand, gritting his teeth against the strain as he used it to cast light into the alleyway below him.
 
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It was difficult to track with the eye. Draedamyr couldn't tell what the thing was made of. Dark as shadow, but it had no clear edge. It flowed step by step like a mist.

It was coming straight for him. He did not know what would happen if it touched him. He didn't want to find out either.

He swiped at what seemed roughly chest height as it approached. The thing stopped, but the tip of his sword still caught it. Black droplets fell and rolled across the floor where the magic of his sword unbound the spell holding it together.

Undeterred it came on, flailing it's long arms at him. The elf backed away, his sword dancing a defensive pattern that cut deep into the shadow fiend over and over.
 
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