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Post by Stage on Jul 9, 2018 7:42:01 GMT
Night had long fallen over Lall, but the darkness it brought was being combated by a series of roaring bonfires on the northern beach. Driftwood, wreckage from the Cinnabar, even the clothes of the dead were all being fed to the flames. Although the Lexians tending the fire had toiled all day, constructing a great raft and assembling the wooden skeletons of several more, they seemed restless. The island was beautiful during the day, and even at night it had a charm, but the orange light of flames bouncing off the dense, waxy foliage gave the looming wall of vegetation a strange, infernal glow, as if the forest was alive and angry at their presence on its shores. The armored men and women were exhausted, but sleep eluded them with the eyes of the island on them. Several had claimed to have seen literal eyes in the darkness, glowing like will-o'-the-wisps.
They were right.
Hidden in the shadow of the largest tree on the horizon, the darkness complimenting his deep brown coat, Vigr watched the Lexians, impatiently waiting for enough to fall asleep for him to creep onto the beach. He had been observing them from some time now. There had been little else to do, his body only capable of recovery at the moments. Between the gunslinger and Shrike, he suffered a great deal yesterday, and his body had not forgotten. His limbs hummed with pain from merely supporting his weight and his lungs still ached from the caustic gas he had inhaled. What stung most though was, ironically, was he could not feel at all. The absence of sensation above his right eye was an enormous weight on his mind. Subconsciously, he bared his fangs.
A human. A human had taken his ear. Had cleaved something off his body.
Worse, it was not just any human: it was Shrike.
He would not put it past that vile woman to be wearing his ear as a trophy the next time he saw her, just as maor wore varul tails.
Vigre flexed his claws eagerly. When that time came, he would take more than just an ear in retribution. He would have her head.
But first he needed to escape this island. And to do that he needed to regain his strength. Food would help, so he would rob the Lexian of theirs the first chance he got. He was slower and clumsier than usual due to his injuries, but human senses were so pathetic it would hardly matter. They had not once noticed him creeping around the edge of the beach over the rattling of their own armor. They were even further from noticing the others. Vigr was not alone. He had seen them several times, their hunched forms and jagged antlers casting a distinct silhouette even in the tangle of the jungle. He did not know what they were, but he suspected they were the masters of this island, and that he had been allowed to see them. Even his sharp ears-
Ear, he corrected bitterly,
- had never heard them move through the brush. They were also the eyes they Lexians had seen. Vigr could not be sure, but perhaps this was their way of warning intruders to their home that they could come and go as they pleased.
Oddly though, it had been some time since he last glimpsed one. Vigr wondered about it as he surveyed the drowsy Lexians. Had they satisfied themselves already? Or were the masters of the island planning something for its guests?
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 10, 2018 3:17:36 GMT
A small ways away from where the weary Lexians struggled to sleep, another set of eyes glared daggers at them, though the source of these eyes were far less dangerous or unique at first glance. It was a woman, a girl of just over twenty years of age, with long black hair that splayed out across her back, and skin so pale one could be forgiven for thinking she was an albino, had it not been for the drab brown eyes. Her clothes were in tatters, the remains of a black skirt and dress that barely preserved her modesty.
"Soon... Soon you'll all be asleep." She muttered to herself. Her eyes scanned around the beach for the corpses of the dead, any that hadn't been consumed by the flames, and particularly for her secret possession. To think, one moment she had been wandering around the outskirts of her old town, the next she had found herself stranded on this island, an island with creatures and monsters she was so unfamiliar with. She had only been here a week, and yet her desire to escape, to find some way off and hopefully back to her old world... that would be all too delightful.
And this was her ticket out. She had no idea what caused their ship to fail, but she only needed one look at these humans to know they weren't like her, or any she knew... but she knew their professions. It was written in their eyes, on their faces, in the equipment they managed to salvage... Slavers, sex trafficers, murderers... the scum of the world.
Soon these wretched sinners would know the true meaning of terror, of the Devil of Pient...
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Post by Stage on Jul 10, 2018 6:06:36 GMT
As the golden eyes of Vigr drilled into the Lexians, urging them to collapse from exhaustion, another of his senses was tickled. He had not noticed it at fist, his missing ear dampening his hearing, but it was now close enough to reach his left ear, which flicked towards the source of the sound: a deep, rhythmic thumping, almost like a heartbeat.
The varul's first instinct was to run. This was a sound he knew well and every learned instinct he had screamed at him he had already let it get too close.
The body of the bipedal canid, although tense, did not move though. He was hidden. He knew the danger the approaching presence posed, but he also knew its habits. It did not hunt in densely vegetated areas like this. It preferred open areas.
Like the beach.
Vigr did not run because he wanted to see what was about to happen.
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A young sable fell onto her bottom, her body finally growing too heavy to continue pacing the perimeters of the fires. She allowed herself to collapse, her long, red hair spilling out onto the sand. She no longer cared if she was being watched. She just wanted to sleep. Slowly, her blue-gray eyes lowered-
-which protected them when there was a fourteen-ton impact on either side of her.
Nearly buried by dual tidal waves of sand, the sable thrashed up, a yelp rising from the bottom of her throat. A high-pitched screech answered her.
Its dark brown scales and evergreen fur well camouflaged against the silhouette of the northeastern part of the island it had approached from, an enormous valjornn had crashed down onto the beach, unseen until it was too late. The bonfires whipped and swirled into the dark sky as the dragon beat its long wings, pumping them with oxygen. Dozens of guns raised towards the winged creature, but none of them yet had dry powder. The beast was free rampage unchallenged.
As the teeth and claws of the dragon fell upon her panicked comrades, rending them from their armor, the young sable staggered to her feet and bolted for the treeline, thanking Leyid she had survived so far and begging him to continue living. If she could find cover under the trees, she suspected she would.
Unknowingly, she was closing in on the pale young woman already hiding in the jungle...
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 10, 2018 6:28:28 GMT
What the sable found herself facing as she approached the treeline was the ghostly form of the woman, shrouded in a black otherwordly mist. Her eyes seemed to glow from the mist.
"Aren't you going to save your fellow slavers?" She sneered, her voice shrill and like the wind. Her shift looked over to the dragon's onslaught, and a grin etched onto her face. "Sinners get what they deserve, robbing other people of their lives."
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Post by Stage on Jul 10, 2018 11:38:32 GMT
The redheaded Lexian opened her mouth to scream, but a gigantic, clawed hand clapped atop it. Shrieking and cursing into muffling fur, the sable was hauled nearly seven feet in the air. A squeeze so powerful it threatened to crush her skull silenced her though, hollers turning into whimpers, as golden eyes shined in the darkness behind her.
Vigr glared down at the ghostly woman. He did not recognize her, but she smelled of the Lexian's... fun, so he assumed she was an entertainer or a prisoner from a previous trip they had kept. He knew, however, that she was an idiot. She had nearly given herself away by frightening the sable instead of killing or subduing her. Because he had moved to intercept the fleeing woman, eager to take even a small revenge, she had nearly revealed him too.
Nocturnal eyes glowing with accusation, the varul raised her other hand and laid an outstretched finger across his bared fang.
Quiet.
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 10, 2018 18:32:56 GMT
The ghastly woman's drab eyes shifted to the strange creature that was now before her. Silence... That's what this thing wanted? Was it so scared of the monster patroling the beach? Was the dragon THAT big of a threat?
She felt the urge to scoff at such a notion, that she had dealt with things worse than a dragon even back in Pient, but then she realized just how little she knew of this particular world. She didn't know what anything here was capable of, and whereas before she had been the apex predator, now she was in a new environment, waiting to be sorted out into a new niche.
And she wasn't going to risk being anything lower than the top.
A crooked smile etched across her face, and she gave a gentle nod, and her own finger over her lips. The message was clear, and she floated back into the jungle, letting the mist recede with her in silence...
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Post by Stage on Jul 12, 2018 2:00:56 GMT
Though the pale woman's peculiarities made his fur bristle, Vigr was satisfied his message was translated correctly. He was tempted to let his relationship with the strange human end here, but an inkling of an idea was forming in his mind. With all the chaos at the beach, it was not inconceivable that he could take the completed raft without being pursued right away. The adrenaline brought on by the appearance of the valjornn was making his injured body feel more than up to the task, but it would wear off eventually and then he would be hard pressed to paddle himself to the mainland alone.
But perhaps he would not be alone.
Maybe he could recruit help.
Looking down at the sable in his grasp, who had fainted not long after being silenced, he decided he could count her as one extra hand. She was a coward and would be easy to intimidate into helping.
But one human was hardly worth a varul. He would need at least one other to double his own effort, so he could not part with the ghostly woman just yet.
Slinging the unconscious Lexian over his shoulder, Vigr followed deeper into the jungle...
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 12, 2018 17:38:42 GMT
What Vigr would find was a small personal hut of sorts that had been molded from the very dirt and rock in the jungle. It wasn't particularly large, only twelve feet in height, and large enough for one, maybe two people at most. The ghostly woman was now seated upon a carved stump in the middle of the open hut, and in one hand, she held a small wooden doll one with far more detail and care put into it than the hut itself. In fact, it looked far more organic than the average wooden doll... almost like it were made of flesh and bone than of wood.
She looked up at the arrival, and her smile grew ever so slightly. She placed the doll on her lap.
"Need something from me?" She hissed. This time, her voice was far quieter, almost unhearable over the natural sounds of the forest, more like a passing wind than an actual voice.
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Post by Stage on Jul 12, 2018 21:56:35 GMT
Vigr dropped the dead weight of the fainted Lexian, only keeping the saber that had hung from her waist in one huge paw. With its long, curved sheathe, he traced the square shape of the raft into the dirt, twisting his enormous head back towards the beach to emphasis his point. On the raft, he made three dots with the tip of the muzzled sword: one especially large to represent him.
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 13, 2018 6:34:48 GMT
It only took the woman a second to know what the creature had planned, yet for but a second a look of surprise was on her face. There was... a raft or something? An actual way off of this cursed island, a way to actually see what kind of world this was...
Yet, it sounded just a little too good to be true. She knew fully well not everything was as it seemed. Even in their old age, Lewis and Carroll had appeared to be unstoppable, titans that could only be claimed by the passage of time... But that clearly had not been the case.
She nodded to Vigr. She would help him escape, and seek freedom herself... But, precautions were already being formed in her mind. An insurance policy, one might say, in case things went downhill for her...
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Post by Stage on Jul 13, 2018 12:35:53 GMT
As soon as he received confirmation that she understood, Vigr turned and left the strange woman alone with the unconscious Lexian. The thought that she might finish her off crossed his mind, but he did not care enough to turn back and instruct her not to and, despite her earlier stupidity, she had grasped his intent very quickly, so perhaps there was some though in her head. Besides, the way she had mocked the other woman had been predatory. He suspected the eerie woman would wait until she had a victim who could give her a reaction to make a move. And as long as it was after she had helped them paddle to shore, he did not care what happened to her.
Unless she knew the location of Shrike of course.
Returning to the edge of the treeline, Vigr found, to his delight, that both many of the fires and many Lexians had died. Because the armored men and women had been concentrated around the unfinished rafts rather than the completed one, that was where the valjorn had landed and began its hunt. The dragon was on the far end of the beach, picking at a defensive line of Lexians that had formed around one of the incomplete rafts. The others had been scattered by its sweeping winds and tails. In a sense, this was the best thing for the varul. The intact raft was left alone and unguarded by both man and beast.
Unfortunately, it was also the only thing still illuminated. Because the valjornn had not gone near it, the bonfires around it had not been stomped or blown out. It would be an easy matter to get it, but doing so unseen would be difficult at best. Maybe if there was a way to distract the surviving Lexians or put out the fire himself...
As the varul considered his options, footsteps tickled his remaining ear. Yellow eyes whipped to the left. It was a red-shoulder. He had apparently had the same idea as the sable, flee to the trees, but, just like her, had chosen to run to the exact worse place. He did not see Vigr. His eyes could not pierce the night like the varul's could. He probably would not see him until he was practically on top of Vigr, but the lupine biped had every chance to act before them. He was essentially at the Noraagean's mercy.
Vigr considered taking him alive as a fourth extra hand, but then he caught the red-shoulder's face in a shaft of moonlight and recognized it. He had once stepped on his tail. Vigr suspected it had been on purpose.
As soon as the Lexian was in arm's reach, the canine giant swung a paw at his neck as hard as possible. It impacted with the rending screech of metal. Vigr was not sure if the muffled sound that reached him beneath that was his neck snapping or his head leaving his body, but, either way, it was the sound of his death. The Lexian's forward momentum evaporated in an instant and and he crumpled weightlessly at the varul's feet without the chance to cry out in pain.
Vigr spit on the body. "Daeuafio."
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 14, 2018 3:31:00 GMT
A few feet behind the varul, the ghostly woman hovered up to him, with the unconcious sable by her side. She looked around, and noticed the dead man at Vigr's feet. Slowly, silently,she edged forward, just barely veiled within the trees, and her sleeve produced a violet gemstone, as large as her thumb. She was smiling again.
She wasn't going to do anything just yet, not until the situation demanded it... one way or another...
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Post by Stage on Jul 16, 2018 3:50:45 GMT
Vigr hardly noticed the woman as he stared hard at the fire. He had found no ideas on how to distract the Lexians, so he was now focused on thinking of ways to extinguish the fire. It was hard going at first, the wind that had whipped up seeming to scream at him that it was no use, but then, in the faint moonlight, he noticed the bonfire sat on the end of a long, thin shadow. Golden eyes tracing up the shadow, the varul realize it belonged to a tree: a gigantic palm to be specific.
Leaving the ghostly woman with the two fallen Lexians, one unconscious, one dead, the canine biped stomped to the base of the tree. After making sure the wind would carry it towards the fire and not the raft, the varul began clawing and tearing at the sandy earth, revealing more and more of the knotted, balled roots of the palm. As the roots were exposed, he would slash at them with his claws, severing them. As Vigr worked, the tree assumed a greater and greater lean towards the bonfire...
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 19, 2018 4:36:29 GMT
The ghostly woman merely watched on in interest. Ideas were forming in her mind on what to do, but she didn't want to risk running counter to what this creature wanted, least it come back to bite them.
As the tree leaned further and further, an idea came to her mind. Perhaps... Perhaps she could have a little bit of fun distracting the creature regardless... because why not? And maybe....
Her left hand twitched. Necrotic energy surged down her body and into the soil, where it began to race over to where the dragon was rampaging. Once it was beneath the beast, her hand twitched again, and the sand beneath the dragon erupted upward into a a swirling twister of sand and dark energy...
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Post by Stage on Jul 19, 2018 23:57:53 GMT
A thin tall and long wings slashed through the ebon dust devil as the dragon screamed in pain from within. With a shrill, panicky howl, it lifted off the ground and lurched out of the twister, a dead Lexian in its jaws turning to black sand that burned its mouth and throat. Its claw tips and the fringes of its wings were burning away as if smoking paper and dark, globular blood fell from its jaws, drops of the thick soup impacting the beach like mud balls. A foul mist of liquefied flesh was sprayed across the stars as it screeched in agony.
However, its cries were soon drowned out by the thunder of splintering wood as the palm Vigr was uprooting finally gave way.
Fangs bared in glee, the varul lifted his large head to watch his plan come to fruition. His grin soon became a grimace as the decaying valjornn swooped clumsily towards the palm. Vigr clutched his head and began to howl.
"Neiio! Neiio!"
With a deep, hollow thump!, the tree struck the valjornn heavily in the chest, sending it spiraling to the sands below and it teetering away from the fire. To the hoarse music of Vigr's hollers, the palm landed a few yards away from the fire. The flames danced vigorously and seemed ready to extinguish itself for several seconds, but it ultimately remained lit.
With a snarl, Vigr stomped out onto the beach, any desire for stealth cast away. The sheath of the saber he had taken from the sable was also tossed aside as he brandished the sword alongside his claws. Yellow eyes cutting at the ghostly woman, the varul draw a finger sharply across his throat, then pointed at the group of Lexians regaining their wits and pointing fingers at the canine biped.
"Baenae," he ordered. It was an easy enough command to translate.
Kill.
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 20, 2018 0:22:50 GMT
The woman cast her glare over at the Lexians. She didn't need to be told in order to end them. They were murderers, traffickers, the very scum she despised and hated...
As was this creature ordering her. But he could wait.
From the foliage, she raised her arms, and dropped several of the gemstones she held in her hands into the dark mist, and her eyes began to glow. "Consider it done." Her voice flowed into the varul's mind. The dark mist that had surrounded her began to flow out onto the beach, and snaked its way between the humans and the canine. The shroud condensed into several different areas, and formed elongated, jagged bolts that dripped of fell power. Each of the bolts fired out, aimed at one of the surviving Lexians...
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Post by Stage on Jul 20, 2018 23:16:01 GMT
Focused on the varul and inexperienced with such powers, few of the Lexians managed to avoid the lethal bolts. Like toy soldiers, a dozen men and women dropped, stiff and dead, their armor corroded into smoking flesh. The handful of survivors had only a moment to decide what to do: rush Vigr or flee with their lives.
Without exception, they fled.
Sneering at their cowardice, the varul himself hauled the raft onto his shoulders. Although it was as wide as five men, Vigr was just as strong. The varul moved quickly, or as quickly as he could, to return to the cover of the trees. The Lexians had left, but the valjornn had not. He was unsure if the dragon had been killed or only stunned by the impact, and he did not wish to find out. Hurrying past the fallen apex predator, the varul maneuvered the raft between the palms and plunged into the heart of the forest, ignoring the unconscious sable and the ghostly woman as he stomped past them. He assumed she would follow and carry the Lexian with her. There had to be another beach beyond the jungle. That is where they would sail from.
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 20, 2018 23:34:52 GMT
The ghostly woman let a thin, crafty smile etch onto her face. Not sailing from here, but instead from the other side of the jungle? She was interested... perhaps the canine knew something she didn't.
Picking up the unconcious sable, she followed the varul through the forest, yet the fallen form of the dragon hatched an idea in her. The dark mist slithered toward it, and prepared to stab into the creature with the same fell bolts that had stricken down the lexians...
____________
High above the island, the screams and carnage of death had not gone unnoticed. Even here, several Hell Ravens were beginning their descent. Their kind had been scattered far and wide across Lemuria in search of food and figures of importance, and these few could smell the dead from here... and possibly other interesting things on the island...
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Post by Stage on Jul 20, 2018 23:55:00 GMT
The deathly spear pierced the chest of dragon, and it died easily with a low wheeze, the sound made by air rushing from its skewered lungs.
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From their aerial vantage point, the Hell Ravens could see what no one else on the island could: a nest.
On the far northeast part of the island, there was a wide circle of trampled trees and brush. In its center, three round, pearly eggs, each the size of a man.
The valjornn had not been a visitor to the island. It was a resident mother.
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Post by Executus Gira on Jul 21, 2018 0:05:17 GMT
The Hell Ravens slowly circled down toward the nest. The eggs were as large as each of them, and would make a fine meal for the birds.
Yet, as they touched down and inspected the eggs, they didn't touch them. No tone tried to roll the eggs around to try and crack them, or grab a rock and bash it against the hulls. No, rather these eggs were for another purpose entirely...
The air above the eggs began to distort, and sand and leaves and debris swirled around. The distorted air expanded and darkened, until a rift tore open. Shadowy tendrils reached out through the rift and wrapped around the eggs, carefully cradling them, before dragging them back up.
The Hell Ravens had done an admirable job... Now they could feast as they saw fit.
Yet, as the last of the eggs was lifted into the rift, one of the ravens looked off into the jungle. Something had caught its attention... a peculiar scent, or an aura of sorts... something very interesting for it...
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