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Post by Stage on Apr 17, 2018 4:36:40 GMT
The woman in black had planned to stop running once her injuries grew too dire to continue. Morning now breached the horizon and they had yet to overcome her though. Instead, it was exhaustion that eventually forced her to slow. As the adrenaline waned, her speed fell, and soon she had stopped, plopping into a dry patch of foliage. Eyes, one dark, one pale, scanned the arid shrubland she found herself in. When they saw no immediate threat, the fair woman sighed and began to inspect herself.
"Muy Leyid."
The woman quickly rechecked all her injuries. Or rather, she checked where she should have injuries. Her wrists and neck were badly burned at the camp, she knew this, had felt the agony of it, but the pale skin on her arms was perfect. Untouched.
The same was true of her nape and even her bare foot, which should be the most grisly of all. Not only had she run for miles on it with no shoe or wrapping to protect it, she had trampled burning grass and wood to do so. She had worried she would not survive her injuries after losing the alcohol she relied on to disinfect them, succumbing to infection here in the empty wilderness, but there was no wounds to fester.
"<What is this?>" she whispered hoarsely to herself.
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 18, 2018 4:15:19 GMT
"Well, you seem to be new around here," a voice spoke, whispering within the winds that whistled through the light of the early morning. The sudden sound of the voice caught the woman off-guard; she had just noticed that nothing was around. Where had it come from?
Suddenly, from the side, she saw brief movement, like that of a predator on the prowl. It set Lark on edge, disconcerted by the change in surroundings. In what felt like an instant, a form emerged from the grass. The figure was clad in long silk robes of warm colors, mostly oranges and browns. A hood covered the top of the figure's, and a piece of semi see-through fabric covered the majority of the figure's face, revealing feminine features beneath. The figure moved slowly, with a long staff at her side.
"Need some help, traveler?" The figure stated as she approached, pointing the end of her staff towards the woman on the floor with the intention of using it as leverage.
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Post by Stage on Apr 18, 2018 4:48:35 GMT
The woman in black instinctively reached for her waistband, where her pistol was tucked underneath the thin, black, flaxen shirt she had been left with after the loss of her jacket. She recalled however that she had expended all her powder, so instead she fished a piece of candied fruit from her pocket. It was a weakness of hers. She had taken several fistfuls with her: valuable space that rightly should have been used by more important supplies. She had not come to regret it yet though, so it could not be called a bad decision as far as she was concerned. Besides, it had proved useful now.
Placing the dried, sugar-coated strip of fruit under her tongue, she contemplated how to respond to the stranger. The robed woman did not seem especially menacing, but it would be foolish to underestimate someone based on their appearance. She had benefited from such many times before. She could very well hide weapons as well.
"Where is this?" she asked at last, already low voice gummed by the candy.
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 18, 2018 5:11:57 GMT
A smirk appeared across the robed woman's lips as she examined the outsider. Yes, certainly not from these parts. She must have been from the Draxon's territory, or perhaps an escapee from that hidden kingdom northward. Either way, not one adapted to this place.
"This is No Man's Land, traveler," the figure said, "a place of little plant life and fewer beasts, but those native to here are hardier than normal. You are lucky to run across me before attempting to cross the desert; it would have been your demise most likely, otherwise."
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Post by Stage on Apr 18, 2018 5:23:38 GMT
"Are you advising me not to cross," the woman in black began to ask, "or telling me you know a way to traverse it?"
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 18, 2018 5:30:55 GMT
"That's a choice that you must make," the figure stated as she slowly withdrew her staff. "But, if you seek passage through this land, I am willing to help."
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Post by Stage on Apr 18, 2018 6:33:31 GMT
The woman in black rose to her feet. She stood half a head taller than the robed woman.
"Then that is my choice. What do I call you?"
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 18, 2018 18:41:52 GMT
The figure nodded as she examined the woman in black in silence for a couple moments. She then spoke up, as if realizing her awkward quiet.
"I am Mana of the Karadd. And who would you be?"
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Post by Stage on Apr 18, 2018 23:36:31 GMT
"I am-"
The woman in black hesitated. By all means, she should have lied, but her last deception still sat bitterly on her tongue.
"Lark. Of Faxialon, an empire that did not follow me here. What of you? Were you born to Lemuria or brought here?"
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 18, 2018 23:46:23 GMT
"Lark." Mana seemed to absorb the word, as if tasting it upon her own tongue. "A beautiful name, like the songbirds seldom seen in these parts."
She looked to Lark and shook her head. "I was born here, and raised here. Lemuria is as much part of me as I am part of it... but you say you are not of here. How did you come to this land then?"
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Post by Stage on Apr 18, 2018 23:56:14 GMT
The fair woman nodded. "Yes. That is where it is drawn from. A migrant in my homeland. And I came here as many did: spirited from my home. Do you not known this phenomenon?"
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 19, 2018 0:16:32 GMT
"I'm afraid I have not," Mana replied, the gentle breeze rustling her robes. "Tell me what you know about this... phenomenon."
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Post by Stage on Apr 19, 2018 1:00:41 GMT
"I am surprised," Lark admitted. "Until today, I had thought all things were born elsewhere. I cannot tell you how or explain to you why, and I suspect that none can, but things are... brought here in a flash. A light, white as snow, that steals you away from your home. People, animals, even cities have all fallen victim to it. Speaking of beasts, I am sorry to ask a second favor of you, but what do you know of the creatures that stalk this land? I am only familiar with those from the far north and have come a cross... intriguing beings, to say the least."
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 19, 2018 3:14:53 GMT
"I see..." the older figure ran her hand along her chin as her brow furrowed. This news seemed to deeply distress her. "Something very strange is going on, and I'm afraid I do not have the answer to it..."
She then looked back up, answering Lark's second question. "I have seen many interesting creatures in my days, many native, but many also from other worlds. The blood drakes are the most prolific dangerous life native to this land. But others more deadly have been arriving as well, such as strange furry lizards and massive armored reptilians taller than a fort wall. I believe they may be tied to your problem..."
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Post by Stage on Apr 19, 2018 3:57:47 GMT
Lark's face darkened at the troubling descriptions of these strange beasts. "And what of great worms that walk on two legs? And the people to the north. The Draxons. Do you know of them?"
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 19, 2018 18:37:08 GMT
"Yes, I have noted both of them," Mana replied. "The Draxons have long lived here. The scriptures of my people have told stories of when the Dragon Men of the woods would march into No Man's Land in an attempt to take it for themselves."
The woman sighed, as she looked down at the ground for a few moments. "Unfortunately, the scriptures say nothing of the walking worms, but they have existed here for a long time. My people have met them occasionally in the past, though not without casualties. It is said one of those beasts can devour a whole caravan and still be hungry for more."
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Post by Stage on Apr 20, 2018 0:50:27 GMT
Lark's grim face grew grimmer. It seemed that she had come even closer to ruin that she had thought. "Are there very many of them? It took a battalion of men in armor, and one man who spewed flames, to down the one I encountered, and several still died. I dread to think of what a number of them could accomplish. Are they what has prevented the spread of the Draxons?"
Privately, the warrior would not mind if such a plague would stop the expansion of Alisdre.
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 20, 2018 4:05:08 GMT
"I do not know their numbers for sure, but I know that they are fairly rare," Mana replied. "Seldom does one of those creatures appear, but when they do, destruction is bound to follow in their wake."
Mana thought for a moment on how to answer the final statement. "I cannot say for sure if the beasts forced away the Draxons, but I know there was certainly more to it than them simply giving up. My people have fought them before, but their size and strength meant we rarely could fight them directly. But something certainly did... something ancient and just as fearsome."
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Post by Stage on Apr 20, 2018 6:34:23 GMT
Lark hummed. "A rival power perhaps? My country was troubled by a desert empire for many eras before... a third actor proved to be their undoing. The terrain and tactics were of great assets to them, and they remain even today."
"As slavers though, not conquers," the raven-haired woman explained, lifting her chin to showcase a scar that began on her chin and traced it way under her shirt.
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Post by Orcus on his Throne on Apr 21, 2018 1:19:36 GMT
Mana let out a humph as she examined the scar. "Slavers. Scum of Mundus is what they are. Few things are more abominable than those who take away the liberties of others..."
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