Rose nudged her horse over to give her a sympathetic back pat. "There there Vetra, it's ok. I want you to come to me if you ever need someone to talk to. I know I might not be much, but I would like you to at consider me a friend." She kind of mumbled and blushed at the end. "And hey, at least the others are trying, even if they don't really show it all too well. I know Delan feels like he owes you his life, or he'd still be with the bandits and that one sadistic woman he feared." She gave her a beaming smile.
Lyra clucked her tongue at her horse as they resumed riding. She abstained from entering the conversation as frankly everyone had to walk their own journey to understanding, herself included. Kobolds the world over had a reputation as ruthless and conniving tricksters who would fight only if they had overwhelming forces. The next day Lyra would be unable to maintain her silence.
"Don't be so quick to cast judgement on the larger races Vetra. Kobolds are hardly without blame, how many gnomes have died at kobold hands? Understand from our perspective they reacted with hostility to us in a land without laws. It doesn't matter WHY they reacted that way, simply that they did. That you were able to come to an agreement with them speaks to the possibility that you yourself might be able to break the stereotypes. Until then stop blaming us for seeking to protect ourselves."
The group made several more miles before night fell and found themselves near the edge of the forest. The wind was picking up and the night was filled with the sound of thousands of leaves rubbing against each other. The cooking fire was slow to start and sputtered only long enough to cook the dinner meal before a gust of wet wind smothered it.
Vetra kept herself quiet and kept herself at a bit of a distance from everyone. Her mood had been soured, her attitude towards the party had soured as well. She wasn't sure of herself nor the people around her.
Due to this, she had been about ten feet from the group, keeping a watch out on the lands around them. She was shivering all the while, bringing her arms across her chest to try and keep herself warm. She did not like how the weather was turning and gave a glance to the group as the cooking fire was smothered in the gust of wind.
Rose kept her pace up as close as Vetra would allow. She wanted to join her, but figured it best to try again when they decided to make camp. Hopefully they could fashion a decent shelter soon, as the air felt noticeably cooler and she looked to see the clouds begin to darken ominously above them. It would definitely be a doozy of a storm if they didn't prepare soon for it.
She also bit her lip troubled, since she did offer to listen if Vetra wanted someone to talk to, but didn't know if she would be the kind of person to not take that offer out of pride. She couldn't really force her to talk, but she didn't want her to think she didn't care... It was all very frustrating with the turn of events. Maybe the weather was beginning to reflect the general malaise that was felt in the party as a whole after the interaction with the Kobolds.
Domitian begins to shiver, and then looks around in concern, sniffing the air around him. "Guys..." Domitian says, with a note of tension and concern in his voice, "I have a feeling we are in for a rough night. A big storm is rolling in, I can feel it in my bones. We need to get things secured and be ready for a big one." Finishing his warning, he begins to take his own advice, going about and preparing his gear, strapping things down tighter, and generally setting about to get ready for the storm.
Lyra would already be breaking down her own tent and stowing all of her gear in her bags. Once that was finished she stuck two fingers into her mouth and let loose with a powerful shrieking whistle that was answered a few seconds later as her hawk Mylee streaked down from the sky and alit onto the druids outstretched arm. Transferring the bird to her shoulder she quickly began to put the tack back on her horse. "Do not mount your horses, stay on the ground and close to their head to give them some amount of reassurance. We need to move deeper into the forest and let the trees be our windbreak!" she yelled over the increasing roar of the wind.
Rose dismounted and did as Lyra suggested, after all it was best to get some kind of shelter if they couldn't find a cave of some sort to wait out the storm completely. She walked close to her mount's head, trying to coo and give it reassurance as best as she could.
After looking with apprehension at most of the plant life and staying close to Dom, Mehaila groans her displeasure at having to head back int that damn forest again. Sure, most her people loved the trees, and she had enjoyed them at one point, but her fear was obvious, and it was clear she wasn't exactly struggling, but she spent way to long tying her gear together. She was bolstered a bit by Dom's nearness, but with every plant and branch moving around, she was pretty shaken by the incoming storm.
" Does no one know how to calm the weather?!" She calls out to the group, not even sure any of them can hear her over the howling wind and incoming storm. She was trying her best to calm her mount down, but the animal could sense she wasn't calm, and it was just a mess of a time. Every so often the group could hear her curse softly as they moved into better cover, trying to keep the mount calm and having a mild success with it
"The spirits of the wild have not seen fit to gift me with magic that powerful! Against the storm's fury all we can do is take...cover." Lyra finished with her words trailing off as she paused in her escape. She stood there for a few seconds in deep thought, an insane idea flying through her head. Why do I hide from this storm? Why do I hide from nature's fury when I'm a shepard of all aspects of the wild? Why do I hide from what I worship?
She looked over at Dom and yelled over the wind in the language of their shared birthright. "Should we really flee from this? You and I share a reverence for the green and this storm is a part of this. Mayhaps we should send the rest of them to safety but I think you and I should stay to witness the Storm's Fury!"
Predictably the rest of the journey was made mostly in silence. Moira swept her gaze across their westward flank, dutifully watching for danger while also avoiding eye contact. She really shouldn't have learned how to hold a grudge from her dwarven mentor. The setting of the camp passed by quietly as well. Even worse, Vetra sat apart the whole time. Moira swallowed her sour grumbling and ignored it all.
She shivered as a chill breeze passed by. When had it gotten so cold? And wet? She could practically taste the air it was so humid. She looked up to see the dark clouds on the horizon. She realized a storm was coming at the same time Domitian spoke up. She scarfed down her food and followed Lyra's lead in packing to move out. Instead of walking beside her horse, Moira hops on and breaks out into a trot, heading for front of the group. "I'll go ahead and see if I can't find a good place to make camp. Might be a cave or something nearby."
Domitian looks at Lyra with a confused look on his face. "I'm afraid I don't understand..." he says, with a confused look on his face.
He nods as Moira jumps up to scout. "Good plan! We'll have things ready to roll if you find anything." He continues to do whatever preparations are necessary in anticipation of her findings.
Despite the looming darkness, growing wind and increasing rain Moira is able to back track with almost supernatural accuracy. Twenty minutes back through the forest the group had passed a small tor that barely breached the tops of the trees. With deft hands controlling the mounting terror of her horse Moira is able to quickly circle around the tor and find an overhang that while not completely sheltering would shield the group from the worst of the wind and rain.
The half elf said nothing more as the party continued on. In truth, the drama that unfolded made him quite uncomfortable, but what could he do? He had not been traveling with these people as long as they had been together, and didn't understand their histories with one another. He had no intention of interjecting his own thoughts on the matter, not unless someone specifically asked it of him. Even then, he wouldn't have much to say. Thus, he remained silent.
Instead, he focused his mind on their surrounding and in his mind turned over the description of the beasts the Kobolds had mentioned. To the best of his knowledge, they sounded like Mites. It was not information that would do anyone much good for the moment so he made no mention of it, but later when the time was appropriate he would bring it up with Vetra.
They traveled for quite some time before setting up a camp for the night. Or rather, attempting to. The wind had picked up something fierce, and a nasty chill was beginning to set in his bones. Delan frowned softly at their surroundings. He had spent more than enough time traveling wilderness to recognize the brewing of a nasty storm. The others began to gather items to keep them from blowing away, and Moira spoke up about venturing out to try to find a cave for better shelter.
Delan nodded in agreement with Dom's approval. "If you don't object, I'll come with you. This storm bodes ill, and it's coming in quickly. It would not do for any of us to accidentally be isolated by it, and I can provide a safe means for the others to follow our path so they don't have to waste time waiting for us to return if they need us."
Reaching inside the satchel where he kept materials for spell work, the half elf withdrew a single, surprisingly well preserved rose. Its petals were a delicate shade of pink. Closing his eyes, he took only a few seconds to lift a whispered prayer to Shelyn as he performed his spell. As he did so, he thought of his companions. Specifically, he focused on the things about them that he found beautiful, thoughts that would bring honor to his matron goddess: Lyra's love and attentiveness to her animals companions; Domitan's selflessness in protecting his comrades, and Mehaila's tenderness with everyone in the group. With Vetra he lingered on her passion for her people, while Moira's bravery and conviction shaped her spirit in his mind's eye. Lastly, but certainly not least, he thought of Rosasaria and her constantly reassuring nature within the group.
When all was said and done, if the others were looking at him they would see a small pink mist around the rose, the color of which matched the hue of the petals. The whole spell had taken only a couple seconds to perform, and no one would feel as if magic had been performed on them without their consent since the spell had been cast on the rose, not on them. Opening his eyes, he told his companions, "Only the six of you and myself can see this mist, which will let you know which direction we went if you decide to follow us. It should last for about three hours, but if this storm picks up as quickly as I fear it would be prudent for you to be able to find us unerringly."
He tucked the rose carefully into a buckle on his armor where it would stay secure. Then, he gestured to Moira that he was ready to leave with her. As they walked away, a small trail of the mist would follow in Delan's wake unfettered by the winds. He would tap into his knowledge of geography and wilderness survival as best he could to help Moira try to track down a cave or other such space that would allow them to wait out the storm safely.
Rose nodded, staying back with Lyra and Vetra as the others decided to scout ahead. "Make it quick, this storm is creeping up on us way too fast and none of us wants to be out in the open when it decides to dump it's contents upon us." She said with a wry smile and a nervous chuckle. She didn't look forward to becoming so thoroughly soaked that her valuable alchemical reagents might become moist and ruined.
She turned to Lyra and Vetra, giving them a smile as she heard the fading hoof beats of the others growing fainter. "I really do hope they manage to find something or this is going to be a rough night."
"Arg!" Lyra would audibly growl at Domitian's lack of language skills, showing for the first time her frustration with people who, through no fault of their own, might not be as smart as her. "I'll tell you later!"
With her gear packed and Myra transferred to the saddle horn, Lyra whistled into the darkness as she began to lead her horse down the glowing pink trail left by Delan. A moment later a white form ghosted into view as Shirak began to walk next to Lyra with her ears flattened against the rain. The druid soothed her nervous horse with quiet words. "Let's not waste any time! Come on Rosa!"
She would be seen checking something strapped to her saddle, a long staff shod in black iron and filigree and capped with a cloudy white orb. As the group pushed their way through the forest she would occasionally turn her face up and smile as the rain ran down her cheeks.
Rose nodded, though she was curious what Lyra was going to do with one of the two staves they managed to find from the bandits they defeated before. She followed as close behind her as she could, following the misty trail as well. "I'm coming, I'm coming, right behind you here." She felt the wind whipping around and blowing her hair into her face as well.
Throwing a confused look at Lyra over the comment made in Celestial, Mehaila follows the path that Delan marked, to were Moira had found safety. Ahe cursed slightly as the weather worsened, as it hurt her ears worse than the others, and for now she just tried her best to stay out of the way and keep her mount calm, but for now her fear of the woods was only getting worse, and anyone who took notice realized she was scared and not dealing well with it.
She sent a prayer to Calistria for strength, and for protection for her companions, but there was little else she could do, until an idea struck her. She would let Dom and Moira be aware she had a spell of bulls strength that she could use to give them some strength for a bit if needed. Until then she would tap her companions with resistances
Domitian looks around at his companions as the storm worsens around him, and a light smile plays on his face. Quick reaction times, and good sound ideas. Good people. Erastil protect us from this storm... He then grabs his things, and leads his horse, trying to murmur soothingly to it, as he follows the rose trail left by his companions.
Moira raises an eyebrow at the pink mist that somehow stood still despite the wind but says nothing as it's usefulness becomes immediately apparent. She reaches a hand out to help him onto her horse as they did not have time to test the limits of this pious, pretty boy's endurance on foot. She was confident she could keep the horse in line long enough to find suitable shelter. As he settled in behind her, she had a moment to think about how he had no business smelling as good as he did before spurring the steed on to find a place to ride out the storm. Turns out looks are deceiving as he was more knowledgeable than she would have first assumed about navigating forests. He could guide, survive, cook, sing. He'd make a fine wife some day.
The tor isn't the best place to hunker down but they are out of time and better options. It should provide a suitable windbreak than just massed trees. Moira was about to turn the horse back to retrieve the others but remembered the trail of physics-defying mist. Handy. They'd catch up soon enough. "Go get some firewood and kindling before this storm soaks everything. I'll try to get us some shelter," she says, dismounting the horse and tying it off on a nearby tree. Climbing the overhang, she pounds some tent spikes into the cracks in the rock itself before tying off the rope. As an extra level of precaution she moves some large rocks over to lay on the ropes too. She then hangs the tent over the side and spikes it into the ground or nearby trees to extend the overhang and add a bit more protection from the coming rain. She does the same with Delan's tent, overlapping their surface area.
Not great but it'd keep them out of the worst of it. Hopefully.
Vetra is quick to follow the suggestions of Lyra, quickly getting up and shrugging off her feelings for the time being. Despite the danger of the storm that was brewing, it's a nice distraction for her. She'd immediately try and help her horse through into the forest and make attempts at calming her steed as she stuck with the rest. She didn't have much equipment and that she has been in a neat little backpack on her. Kobolds and horses never really got along and she wouldn't trust her few meager possessions to an animal that could suddenly bolt with everything she owns.
Once she was with the group she gives Mehaila a furtive glance with a little smile, as it had to find its way to her lips regardless, "If I could calm the weather, I think I would always make it clear skies with a nice cool breeze." She gives a nod to Lyra, "As she says, taking cover is the best thing we can do..."
When Moira offers up to scout ahead she bites her lip for a moment, considering to help but realizing her being alone with Moira would possibly not be a good situation to put either of them in. Sighing she resigns herself to just waiting for results. Not much she could do at the moment as well so might as well keep herself with the others.
She couldn't help but watch Delan as he cast his spell to aid his allies. Something suddenly rose in her chest and that suddenly inkling of a feeling confused her as she watches the mist around the pedal grow and leave a trail as he headed off with Moira. Her brows furrowed slowly as she now had something else to question and scrutinize. Now was not the time for thoughts like this, so she casts them off before beginning to follow the rest in following the trail left by the scouts, offering a little whisper of guidance to Apsu under her breath as she struggled with her steed.
'Life is messy and confusing. Do not lose sight on your focus Vetra,' she repeats in her mind over and over again, clearing out all other thoughts that didn't pertain to surviving this storm and these wild lands.
Before the rest of the group can follow Delan and Moira to the tor the full fury of the storm is unleashed on them. Driving rain mixed with snow quickly soak everyone to the bone and they struggle to maintain control over their horses. Any conversation is impossible as the thunderous roar of the winds leave everyone mute. They can hear the trees around them begin to moan and creak alarmingly as the large plants are bent almost at a 90 degree angle from the fierce winds. Lightning crackles in the sky all around them, addings it's own thunderous reverberations to the chaos. Within seconds an immense bolt slams into the forest and incinerates a tree in an explosion of flame and wood 100 feet away.
As the group sets out to follow Delan's trail Vetra is yanked off of her feet as her horse begins to panic at the storm. Despite the kobold's attempt to calm the beast the horse's eyes were wide and the creature simply wouldn't listen.
While Delan looks around for firewood that isn't wet Moira realizes her mistake the moment she unrolls the tent. The shrieking winds grab the fabric and spread it wide open, turning the tent into a sail. As she struggles with the fabric she hears something snap.
Moira reached a hand out to offer him to ride with her, but after a final glance upward at the brewing storm he shook his head gently. "Thank you, but I should take Cojiro myself. It wouldn't be fair to him to wander away in unnerving weather like this." His horse was the only kindness his his life during his time with the bandits, and had kept much of Delan's mind off of his experiences there. He had bonded with the creature, and would feel beyond guilty leaving him for others to mind in a situation like this.
Taking hold of his horse's reigns he followed close to Moira, unaware that the human woman was pondering idly on his scent and what others might consider his more effeminate skills. If he had, Delan might have chuckled and teasingly agreed with the thought. Instead, he kept focused on their surroundings and helping her find a suitable location to camp, all the while doing his best to keep the mount calm and steady.
Once a place had been found, he dismounted Cojiro and tied the horse off next to Moira's. It wasn't the most ideal location, but it was the best shot they had. He quickly did as she instructed and gathered up as much dry firewood and kindling as he could get his hands on, placing it as deep inside the overhang as he could to prevent it from getting wet when the rain started.
He was about to start helping Moira with expanding their makeshift shelter a bit more when he heard the lightning spook his horse. Delan swore quiet fluently in a number of languages, starting with Dwarven -- which was his go to for swear words -- and devolving into other tongues he'd used so often he didn't even think about it. As he did, he flung himself over to his mount as the horse fought its ties, just barely missing the reigns.
Before the horse could take off, Delan instinctively drew upon his powers. The magic settled on top of the beast like a warm, heavy blanket. "Whoa, boy. It's alright, I'm right here. Breathe, Cojiro, there's a good lad..." He spoke in a low, soothing voice, doing his best to coax the gelding into the effects of the spell.
Lyra is able to keep her own mount calm with soothing words and remaining calm herself. The druid knew that horses were mirrors of their riders and the easiest way to keep the powerful beasts calm was be BE calm. As the wind sends the rain painfully against her face and eyes she tried to keep her head down as much as possible. However this endeavour would be foiled as she heard the panicky neighing and cursing from the group behind her, eliciting a sigh.
Throwing her hood back the druid retrieves a carrot from her spell components and spends a few seconds carving a bisected circle into the soft vegetable. Throwing her arms wide open Lyra tilts her head and back and accepts the full fury of the storm. As she falls deep into her druid senses she can feel the chaotic energy of the storm roiling around her, a ship adrift in untamed seas. Tapping into that ocean of power staggered the druid as power erupted from her body in a wave of light. Struggling against the gargantuan surge of power the druid begins to rise off the ground.
Thunder rumbles directly overhead as the usually self assured Lyra realized the gravity of her mistake. The power of the forest and plains was subtle and gentle, flowing easily through the hands of the apprentice druid, soothing her soul as her will gave it form and purpose. The magic of the storm was the exact opposite; demanding and powerful, it surged wildly as it sought a conduit, an opening, anything to dump all that power out of the clouds. Only druids of great power could tap into a storm of such fury and strength, only they had bodies that could take in all that power and not endanger their lives.
The Will of Nature punished the presumption of the young druid as she screamed in agony and lightning cracked overhead.
Vetra yelps in surprise as she lost control of the horse, holding fast on the reigns. She yells out for help but her voice was quickly drowned by the storm as she struggled to bring the horse to heel, though she quickly learned the error of her ways as the horse twisted and turned, bucking as he began bolting into the forest. With her holding onto the reigns she risked the fate of being dragged by the mighty steed. Reluctantly she lets go of her firm grip on the reins, letting the horse bolt with a defeated sigh. 'Great... now I'm going to get flack for losing my mount,' she chides herself.
She shivered, the rain cold and her leathers soaking wet, rain slicking off her scales as she rushes forward against the wind, digging her talons into the ground to resist being thrown around like a rag doll by the wind.
She'd catch up just in time to see Lyra hovering in the air, the thundering lightning above caused Vetra to jump slightly. She couldn't hear the agonized screams from the druid, all she saw was the female hovering doing something. She quickly tries to ascertain what she's doing.
Rose was guiding her horse along, feeling it begin to panic she quickly tried to offer soothing and comforting words to it, even as she herself shivered from the wind and the rain. The horse began to fight her, but she managed to wrest it close again, continuing to speak soothing words and comfort it again. One particularly nasty crack of thunder spooked the beast of burden again and this time she wasn't able to yank the horse back. Thankfully it decided to stay with the herd rather than flee. She offered a silent revelry to the Green Faith, despite the weather raging on and making her lament over how damp she was.
She proceeded onward, looking to see Lyra appearing to float before her eyes. Huh... That's a neat trick... She thinks to herself before scrutinizing her sister's predicament further. She didn't recall her sister ever having been able to perform that particular feat before, and yet seemed like an ominous sign considering their current situation.
Mehaila struggle valiantly against her fear as the party made its way to whatever outcropping Moira and Delan managed to find. The howling winds, branches whipping wildly, the hard driving, stinging, and cutting rain hard on her eyes, forcing her to keep her head downcast as she trudged along the path left behind by Delan.
In this time she continued her prayers to Calistria to see her group safely to their shelter, while continuing to press against her horse. The skittish mare was an easy riding mount, but at times like this Meha wished a bit more bravery, if for no other reason it would mean during storms like this her companionable horse would be easier to handle. She hadn't ever really ridden horse before this adventure, and her inexperience was showing. She tried to maintain a brave and courageous face for any party members should they spy her, but her unsteady hands was soon betrayed by the booming of the thunder and the lighting that crashed nearby. Her mount started to bolt, and while she lost her grip and fell into the dark muddy grounds, getting it everywhere, her horse continued with the ground, as she floundered a bit getting back up.
When she regained her footing, she looked up briefly enough to see Lyra start to rise from her perch, before the blinding light flashed out. She then tries to understand what happened, and struggles against the raging storm as clearly something wasnt right. She may flirt with all her companions, but at the end of the day, she cared about them in their own way, and flashing lights during an extreme storm near a companion was not to be taken lightly. She was afraid however, as she fought against the elements before her, she would not make it to Lyra in time.
The only inkling Moira had that something bad was about to happen was that the wind ebbed just a moment as she unfurled the tent. Just like how the water recedes before the tidal wave, the wind rushed through with a vengeance and her tent went with it, ripped from her grasp. She watched it whip gracefully through the trees like a bird of prey. With a tremendous sigh, she squints into the sky and pelting ran. "REALLY!?!" she shouts to the heavens. Whelp, things were going to be tight under the rock overhang for a bit.
A peel of thunder pulls her from her sorrowful thoughts. That was rather close. Apparently it spooked Delan enough to start cursing in dwarven of all things. She felt like she was back in her mentor's forge for a moment. No time to reminisce though. Moira bounds to her feet and almost carelessly tosses her sword under the rock. Wouldn't do to run around with a lightning rod her back. Going to her mount she grabs her gear and tosses it under as well. Another rumble spooks the animal but Moira keeps a firm hold. She stands in front of it like a rock of calm in a...well storm. She doesn't flinch at the noises or the rain or the wind and wills serenity into the skittish creature before her. Moving slow and steady, she removes everything but the bit and bridle. If it bolted at least it wouldn't have a saddle weighing it down.
The horse would never fit under the over hang but she could coax it into laying nearby so she could continue to sooth it. Delan had gathered enough wood, and the storm was really laying into them now. So she sat at the edge of overhang, her mount's head in her lap, whispering sweet nothings into its ear to keep it calm. She sent a silent prayer to Erastil that the others were safe found they found their way soon. Even Vetra.
The storm slammed in far sooner than Domitian thought was possible. What had been a calm night, and a tickling in the sinuses, progressed into the monster storm that slammed into him. He had never felt a storm like this, and the opening moments almost made him lose control of his horse, even though he had been actively trying to calm the beast. At the last second, though, he grabbed the reins and yanked the beast, whinnying and shaking, back over to him.
He managed to follow the rose path for quite some time, despite the rain lancing against him like a constant hail of arrows and the lightning flashing throughout the raging clouds. A light ahead distracted him though. Lyra? What is she doing? That doesn't look good... His distraction almost cost him his horse, as it pulled away again, but he just barely managed to hang onto it.
Not having anything with which to help Lyra, he just shakes his head and offers up more prayer. I sure hope she knows what she's doing...
He finally catches up to Moira, horse still at hand, and looks from her back to where Lyra was. "Do you have any idea what's going on with Lyra?" he yells at her, struggling to be heard over the winds. He stares back out into the night, concern on his face.
Nerves on fire, skin stretching, head pounding...Lyra couldn't tell one source of pain from another, all she knew was that it HURT. Her soul threatened to tear free of her body and coast the currents of the nether. Inch by inch she clawed her back into her body and began the effort of partitioning the parts of her brain that felt pain but a surge from the storm tore down the barriers faster then she could throw them up. Whatever she was going to do she would have to endure the agony.
This is the struggle you will face if you truly seek to master the magic of both the wild and the arcane. Arcane magic is structured and formulaic, requiring not will but logic. Nature doesn't not respond to logic or formula, it is a manifestation of the souls of every living creature, the implacable stubbornness that is the mountains, the raging passion that is fire. You do not command the wild so much as you become part of it. Immerse yourself in the World Soul to find the Gates. Only by learning to commune with the Great Elementals will you begin to master this World.
A creature of ether and lightning turned to stare impassively at the tiny mote of the druid. Coruscating lines of energy flowed out of the immense air elemental into the storm, lifeblood pumping flowing in and out of the storm. Lyra knew without speaking that she was in incredible danger encroaching upon the territory of one of the Elder Elementals but she didn't care; it was do or die.
"Empearal, Lord of the Void! Upon the bindings set forth four millenia ago bestow your blessings!" Lyra cast into the whirlwind.
The immense air elemental leaned down to gaze upon the insignificant soul demanding the fulfillment of an ancient bargain that annoyed the creature to no end. Before it could even begin to think of rejection the bracers it wore sizzled in warning. Grumbling with claps of thunder the elemental reached out a single finger to touch the druid.
"Beware that which you seek for power is not to be trifled with." The elemental rumbled.
Between one heartbeat and the next something...shifted. In an area surrounding the floating druid the wind and rain stopped.
Silence.
Everyone could suddenly hear their ragged breathing and the horses neighing, a wall of wind and water swirling around the small clearing they were passing through. As the horses all struggled to escape the druid's head snapped up and she stared at the creature with eyes of lightning. The carrot in her hand sizzled with energy before vanishing in a flash of orange light that bathed all of the animals and settled them down immediately. Even Mehaila's mount would return a moment later to nudge at the elf's back and Vetra's mount stopped struggling.
"Conditions accepted for promotion to the second circle... if you can survive." Lyra said monotone, speaking in the language of the air elementals. There was another voice layered over her own, a deep, rumbling voice that echoed in the clouds around them.
The glow suddenly left Lyra's eyes and she gasped in her own voice while looking around wildly. "Wh-"
The heavens flashed and roared as lightning flew and cast the clearing in negative. A winged figure was seen in midflap as Mylee launched herself towards her master, beak wide as the hawk screamed her defiance to the sky. Time slowed down as the line of flickering light gently arced down from the clouds straight at the druid. Impossibly the hawk seemed to be moving faster then the lightning as the familiar positioned herself a foot above the her master, intending to absorb the lightning.
Lyra's hand came up and brushed the breast of the hawk just as lightning connected sky and ground, flowing through both bird and druid.
For a few seconds none of the party knew what happened. They could only see white and a faint hissing noise filled their ears. They found themselves lying on something unyielding and a second later the word came to them; the ground. Something wet was flowing down their face and they remembered a second word; rain. Other sensations began to intrude.
Cold.
Sharp.
Pain.
In a rush memories flooded back into the party as the effects of lightning strike began to fade. It would take a minute before their sight and hearing returned but when they did they would find everyone in the party sitting on the ground and looking bewildered. Their horses calmly cropped grass and gently moved between the fallen party members.
Over where Lyra had been a moment ago a smoking and burnt figure could be seen curled into the fetal position and shaking on the ground. Over the fallen figure a powerful tiger stood with hair bristling and teeth bared. A deep and powerful growl ripped through the clearing as the tiger warned the members of the party to stay away, the great cat's eyes wide and darting.
The ground for ten feet around the druid had been scorched clean and sizzled as rain began to cool the superheated material. Steam quickly began to curl around the burnt Lyra as the wind died down and all the party was left with was heavy rainfall and the occasional rumble of thunder. Whatever had just happened the storm seemed to be calming down.
Rose watched with wide eyes as she saw the storm silence and her sister speak in a strange tongue, eyes like the crackling of electricity. She knew something very very bad was to happen with such a monstrosity of storm abated, but when her sister snapped out of it and it was still mostly clear she let out a laugh. "That was-" The crack of thunder was ominous and her heart dropped into her stomach as she watched the pillar of lightly strike down at her sister and her small bird companion streak its way towards Lyra. "NO!" Was all she could manage as the lightning connected and the force blasted her backwards.
Once she regained her senses, she rushed over to where her sister lay. "No no no no no no, please Green Faith no!" She panicked and fretted. She didn't want to lose her, she couldn't lose her. Not like they had lost their mother, that was an inevitability and she taught them that. This was too soon, too sudden. "MEHAILA! DOMITIAN! DELAN!" She screamed at the top of her lungs as she rushed over to her sister and the poor bird. She noticed Shirak growl as she approached. "Shirak! Damn it, it's ME! Let me see her!" She cried out angrily and scared, her damn pet was gonna be the cause of her death and it terrified her deeply. She grits her teeth and pulls out some slightly damp ground mica and chants, throwing it into the air near the tiger.
Mehaila struggles to close the distance to Lyra, the weather slowing her progress until something else stops her. Whether it was her Goddess showing her a bit of luck or what, she stopped in time to hear her friend speak about a second circle, though the voice was not the normal cutting sound of Lyra. Instead it was ancient feeling, as if the earth itself had spoken from her mouth.
So imagine her surprise when her horse nudged her back after a blinding flash of carrot-orange light burst forth from Lyra's hand. Mehaila had little time to react as it seemed the weather had stopped for the moment. This peace was not to last, for as soon as she thought about rushing to help her friend again and started towards her, she was face first in the mud. She looked about, and looked. She strained her eyes and started to scream in horror, for she could see nothing but white, her terror building as she silently screamed. The screams did lessen however, as she slowly regained her sight and hearing, and checked herself. She had a pounding headache, but was otherwise unharmed.
However, after her sight fully returned, she realized that not all of her party had made it.
" Lyra! Guys come quickly and help!" Mehaila shouted before rushing forward towards her smothering comrade. Please do not be dead. Please. This is not the way one should die, alone in a forest in a storm. Savoured Sting, please grant me the power to save her, to help her so she may further your goals. The petite cleric prayed as she attempted to get close. Her attempts were futile, as Lyra's tiger seemed to let no one close, and Meha wasn't going to kill her friends pet without due reason. Perhaps she could channel from where she was? She sent another prayer, called on the healing silken touch that would wash over all in the 30 foot area.
Rose pulls her staff out, trying to comfort herself as she ran her hand over the smooth engravings she had carved out over time, the patterns the symbols the combinations of witchcraft and science. She tried to calm her mind, let time slow down, let her heart stop racing. "Lyra...Sweetie... Please, calm Shirak. I know he is angry, I owe him an apology, but he's stopping us from being able to save you. Don't let him let you die... Please..." Her eyes welled up with tears streaming down her face, falling to her knees and leaning heavily on her staff.
Pain. Pain. Pain. Ow. Pain. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.
Lyra was in agony. Parts of her felt numb and missing and the parts that didn't HURT. She could hear everything that the party was saying but just staying awake was a burden. She ignored Mehaila and the jibber jabber of everyone else until a familiar voice cut through the static.
Dragging the last of her will up Lyra's scorched hand rose shakily and weakly grabbed Shirak's shoulder. "Shirak...down." her whisper thin voice scrapped over burned vocal cords.
The blinded tiger had initially snarled at Lyra's touch but settled down quickly once the powerful cat heard her voice. Growling in worry the cat laid on the ground next to Lyra and placed her head close to the druid's face. Lyra weakly slid her hand up to rest on Shirak's ruff and grasped with little strength as if using that faint contact to stay alive.
Meha rushes to Lyra, the normally calm cleric dropping to her knees and mud coating her even more. She looks like a savage warrior in her scant mud covered garments, she gathers some of the healing energy from her Goddess in her hand, before letting out a yelp as a loud and painful electrical shock hit her, causing her to lose a precious healing spell. " ROSA! HELP!" Meha had never really dealt with anything like this, but every time she tried to do more than just glance at Lyra, touching, a spell, it all shocked her. She murmurs softly to Lyra however, as she leans over her trying to figure something out " Don't worry Lyra, we aren't leaving you. We will help. You just stay awake, and focus on Rosa. She's gonna help me heal you." Mehaila was trying for brave, but a good sense motive would reveal she didn't know if she could say her friend.
Moira senses Domitian approach but remains focused on her horse, projecting calm. She doesn't even glance up as she responds with an annoyed, "How should I know?" Why should she? She couldn't even see her at the moment and had no context for the question. Suddenly her horse bolted up but not in a panicked rush. It just got up. And began walking away. Back in the direction of the others it appeared. Moira followed, curious both by it's abrupt attitude change. Despite the freezing rain it walked placidly forward. Then it stopped. No, that wasn't right.
Everything stopped.
The wind stagnated, the rain froze in the air, the only sound was a quiet rumble. Yet somehow Moira was undeterred. She walked forward normally, past the horse, in the direction it was heading. She passed through droplets of water hanging in air. Little specks of cold that didn't even absorb into her clothes or skin. This should have been mesmerizing. She should have stopped and marveled at the world frozen in a moment. But she kept walking. Pulled forward by some unknown compulsion.
She was glad for that as the scene just a few feet away was even more wondrous. The world wasn't frozen. It was moving slowly. So slowly she could watch a bolt of lightning trace a path through the sky, jagged and fractured. It was beautiful.
And it was headed right for Lyra.
And yet she couldn't seem to do anything about it except watch. She couldn't move, she couldn't yell, she couldn't even drum up the emotion to care. All she could do was watch and wonder. When the bolt hit reality came crashing back in a fury of light and sound. Moira found herself looking up at a mostly peaceful sky, ears ringing and spots dancing in her vision. She sat up feeling mild discomfort and a slight pulsing headache. She just stared at a bolt of lightning. She should be blind and deaf. A bolt that..."Lyra."
Moira leaps to her feet but freezes at the sight of their half elf druid, laying in a circle of scorched earth, her body no less blackened. For a second her heart stopped thinking the woman dead. But no, she was shivering-or twitching-on the ground as her tiger stood guard over her. Moira sigh's in relief as she shakily reaches up to comfort the distraught animal. Already Mehaila and Rosa are trying to heal but sparks of electricity periodically leap from Lyra, hampering the other's progress.
She was still charged from the strike somehow. It refused to be ground for some reason. Why? How do they heal her then? Or even approach?
What the hell just happened..?
One minute Delan had been fruitlessly trying to calm down his horse, and then everything exploded. Literally. He’d barely had enough time to process Domitan’s arrival and his inquiry about Lyra when the lightning struck. Once again Delan swore loudly. That bolt had been insanely close! Light and heat surged near them. It wasn’t enough to blind him but the sonic boom had stripped him of hearing immediately.
Completely forgetting about his struggle with Cojiro, the half elf clapped his hands to his ringing ears. He looked at Moira and Dom to see if they were okay, and then Rosa’s voice screaming his name, among a couple others, drew his attention to the others.
Without thought Delan bolted into a sprint to get to where they were. He stopped once he got there to quickly assess the situation. It was bad. Lyra was charred like she’d gotten hit directly. Rosa and Mehaila were trying to get to her to help her, but Shirak was having none of it. A faint glow caught his eye from her saddle, and he noticed Lyra’s staff was emitting a bit of light. He looked at Lyra again, really looking at her. She was alive. More than that, she was conscious… but the electricity was still jumping through her body. Mehaila couldn’t even try to heal her without getting a zap big enough to break her concentration.
They needed to get that electricity discharged. Rosa spoke to her sister, and Lyra managed to coax Shirak into calming down. Delan had already approached and knelt next to Lyra and Mehaila. He was digging hurriedly through the satchel that held his components for spell work. “We need copper,” he told the others. “We need to clear her body of electricity before we can heal her, and copper works best.” He was speaking calmly, but there was an obvious tension in his voice. He was doing his very best to stay under control -- he could freak out after their comrade was properly stabilized.
Pulling out the biggest piece of copper filing he had in his bag, he stabbed one end of it into the dirt near Lyra’s hand -- the one that wasn’t petting her tiger. Hopefully it would be enough, or hopefully some of the other mages would have enough to help with what he was trying to do. There was no telling how much they’d need to do this properly. “Shelyn, please let this work…” Once the copper was set in the ground, he took Lyra’s free hand. He had noticed earlier when Mehaila had tried to heal her that it zapped the woman but didn’t seem to inflict any real hurt on her. He took Lyra’s hand, doing his best to ignore the zapping from it, and wrapped her fingers around the copper.
Delan's hand would begin to spasm slightly as it was jolted once every couple of seconds with electricity, painful but not debilitating. As he brought Lyra's hand into contact with the copper rod the electricity began to snap back and forth between her hand and the rod, touching and surging but clinging stubbornly to the druid's body. As that was happening anyone who had spotted the staff on her saddle earlier would notice the light in the orb began to pulse at the same speed as the jolts between her hand and the copper rob. Delan could also feel Lyra's arm muscles clenching and releasing with every jolt. Whatever happened with the electrical field hit her at the same time.
Moira flinched away and tiny jolts of electricity arched to Delan and the copper he laid on in the ground. Even at this distance it made her hair stand on end. A clever move but it seemed to have not effect. The electricity continued to arc even after he pressed her hand to the ground. As she looked away she noticed Lyra's horse standing calmly to the side, a faint glow coming from the the staff in one of the saddle bags. No, not a glow. More like a twinkle. A pulsing light that corresponding to the jolting bolts of electricity.
Maybe...
Moira hurries over to the horse and pulls out the staff. She examined the staff and the large quartz on the end giving off the pulsating light...Yep. Sure looked magical. She takes it over and stands next to Rosa and hesitantly holds it out to him. "Maybe...this will work?"
Rose looked up with worry at Moira, looking at the staff that she held in her hands held out to Delan, and then back to her sister still suffering in front of her. Actually...that just might- She quickly takes the staff from Moira and touches the orb to Lyra's bare skin, hoping it might be able to draw the power away from her body and allow them to be able to use healing magic once more on her again.
The moment Rosa touches the orb to Lyra's skin the smell of ozone becomes pungent as strands of lightning appear all over the druid's body, layered on her skin and strands digging into it. It was obvious that whatever had happened had left a curse on the druid. Slowly the lines of electricity began to move as if threads of hair through syrup, grudgingly yielding their position.
The moment the energy started to move Lyra spasmed, her back arching backwards and a leathery scream slithering out of her mouth. When the strands began to pull from her body they left holes in her skin that blood began to pour from in tiny rivulettes like unwrapping thorny vines from around someone. These strands of electricity flowed down the staff and began to sink their energy into the weapon, embedding their deadlys thorn into the magical wood and iron.
After several minutes of this the final strand would be pulled from Lyra's body and she would collapse as all of her muscles unclenched.
Mehaila watched as those around her assisted in helping cure Lyra, or at least that was the attempt. After seeing the pain it caused, she would take the staff from Rosa, and touches it to Mylee, though she didnt have much hope left for the poor bird, but she owed it to Lyra to try. Rosa had done more than enough, and it was time for her to rest. She even mentions " Rosa, thank you for your assistance. But now I need you to go and check on everyone still standing, and help them set up camp. I have it from here." Her voice was soothing, and anyone paying attention would realize she was using a spell to calm Rosa down, a common enough spell to enhance her diplomacy. Whether or not it worked she would drop to her knees and chanting to her Goddess. Soon the blood began to flow from those oozing wounds, Mehaila went to cast a spell, a different one this time, one calling on her Goddess to heal the wounded that they may feel the pleasures of the flesh once more, and their tongues may takes the sweetest vengeance. It was a subtle stroking of ones body, enough to slightly arouse those who could be affected by it.
While it seemed to drag out forever, it was but a scant few moments, and Meha started to work her more personal magic. She softly touches Lyra's cheek, her hand warm and soothing, like the gentle caress of ones favored lover. She would use her powers to heal the fallen druid, using her divine powers for one who had calmed the storm. She channels her energy into her palms, placed on both sides of her face, cupping it as one would a lovers. The energy pouring out was sensual, soothing, and yet it promised nights of pleasure and wonder. The storm had been rough, and the new energy a type of calming balm to the wounds, only to get ready for the next battle. It would be the most she would do until checking on Lyra's health again, and the health of the Mylee. It might be better to heal them together once she checked again.
Rose could only nod numbly. She was still quite deeply in shock after all that had transpired. Lyra's magic had always been a little different from her own experimentation, but this was something of a completely new level. She needed to think and reflect on what actually happened, but for now, she would follow what Mehaila suggested and help the others as best as he could in her frazzled state.
She knew that she owed Shirak a big apology for what she did to him, after all he was only trying to protect Lyra. She hoped that when Lyra recovered she might tell her how she could make it up to him. She walked, using her staff to support most of her wait as she still was a little bit of a haze from the adrenaline and emotion. Her eyes hurt from crying, and she needed a long rest as well.
Meha sighs as Rosa finally goes and joins the rest of the party. Her chanting and prayers alternate, before finally she goes quiet, and looks down at her fallen friend exhausted. She attempted both the chant and prayer once more, but Dom, along with the others who knew how clerical magic worked, would hear the strain in her voice as both failed. She had nothing left in the way of magical healing, and could only help with standard care now. But perhaps all her efforts had fully brought Lyra back.
Domitian was staring out into the gloom, right at Lyra, when everything suddenly stilled around her. His face fell into a concerned frown, as he began to think through the implications - he wasn't aware of anything that could cause such a reaction. Then the lightning flashed, brighter than anything he had ever seen before, and he found himself flying to the ground.
Laying on the ground, Domitian tried to look around, but couldn't get his body to respond. His ears were ringing, and he could faintly hear yelling; he knew he should get up and help, wanted to get up, but nothing was working like it should. He brought his head up, and could vaguely see the shapes of the large trees around him.
Through a particularly large gap in the trees, he finally lays eyes on something solid. At first he thought it was a horse, but as he focuses on it he sees that it is much larger than a horse. It's white fur was sleek and clean, and seemingly unaffected by the storm. What at first Domitian had taken to be antlers turn out to be great tree branches. It is the great white stag, come to see me into the next life...
As he processes this, a voice sounds in his head. Though it didn't seem to be actually audible, the voice was loud enough to make his teeth rattle. Yet, at the same time, it was calm and gentle in a way that was completely incongruous with the volume of it. "Domitian," the voice calls, as the great stag bobs it's head, "calm yourself. Your companions will be fine. Do not move too quickly. Great magic is present in this place, and it will overwhelm you. You are not ready for it. Yet." With that, the great stag was suddenly gone, as if it were never there.
Maybe it never was. Maybe it was all in his head, as he processed the energies that washed over him. He couldn't really tell for sure. Good advice, regardless... The fallen man takes a few minutes, gathering his thoughts, and then looking toward where Lyra had been struck. He finally is able to take stock of the situation, just in time to see Mehaila pouring healing energy into Lyra. She was strained, it was clear, and trying to push herself further than she should, but she appeared to have everything under control. Domitian smiled lightly to see that, as he slowly pulls himself to his feet.
He limps over to Mehaila and Lyra, still slowed from the whole event. His armor felt enormously heavy, far more so than when this began, and the rain continued to fall on his shoulders. He laid a hand gently on Mehaila's shoulder and says "Good work, Mel. Sorry I couldn't get here sooner to help, but it looks like you didn't need it." He smiles at her, then turns his gaze to Lyra and her brave hawk, to see how they faired under Mehaila's care.
As the healing magic flowed over Lyra the tension in her body finally began to relax. The chasms in her body where the lightning had vaporized her flesh began to close, charred flakes of dead, black skin sloughing off as healthy golden skin filled in the voids. The skin on her hand fell apart like a stiff glove disintegrating as the bits of skeleton that were showing vanished under healthy muscles and skin. With such extreme damage anyone standing nearby would get a unique show to just how healing magic rebuilt the body as veins threaded through only to be buried under healthy red muscle and finally covered with healthy golden skin.
As the druid began to breathe easier the last touches of healing magic tapered off, leaving behind a healthy but scarred body. The lightning had left behind a thin, ropy vine/tree like scar that started at the middle finger of her right hand before spreading down her right side and terminating at her big toe. The healing magic also doesn't consider things like hair and Lyra's bald scalp soon began to slough off rain water. Her beautiful hair like strands of ruby was gone, blasted away by the lightning. Most of her clothing had also gone the way of the hair and only thin fragments now covered her fit frame.
Mylee fared much better being of slight frame. The bird stood up quickly and shook herself as new feathers pushed out from her skin, displacing the charred ones. Her wings flapped into a blur as she got rid of any kinks, blasting Mehaila's face with wind. The elf would also notice that whereas before Lyra's familiar had feathers of brown and white now the creature had tones of electric blue and sparks danced over its body as it fanned it's wings at impossible speed with a deep humming noise.
Meha leans into the hand on her shoulder, the tension in her body obvious until she relaxes her shoulders and her head slumps down, her whole composure showing the signs and taxation of trying to use spells you no longer could call forth. She sighed in relief as she watches the skin grown back, though she had never seen damage this extreme, she was fascinated by the process. Part of her wished to reach out and touch the veins, but feeling that might interfere, and the exhaustion she was feeling, meant she did not mind just watching. It wasn't until Lyras shining bald dome appeared and Meha went to stand did she realize the rest of Lyra was exposed. Not sure how much Lyra would appreciate the men seeing her, Meha quickly tried to cover Lyras more delicate spots with her hands, unaware of how vain her friend was about her body or looks, saying quickly " I feel a blanket or cloak is needed gentleman. Please retrieve one for me." Her tone was light, but brokered no arguements. Something wasnt right and she was trying to hide it.
Luckily it seemed the bird had fully recovered, though the sparks caused a bit of alarm. She wasn't really sure how to approach that, figuring Dom or Moira would be better suited for the task
As the pain faded into the recesses of memory Lyra took deeper and deeper breaths and being to piece together just what had happened. That she was still breathing was good. That she could hear Mehaila murmuring as the warm and...sensual energy pushed away the pain and restored feeling along her right side. She grasped her right hand and nearly flinched at the slight pain as new muscles and tendons stretched for the first time, whole and healthy.
As the rain began to get into places where her clothing should have protected her from Lyra woke suddenly and sat up. Mylee would squawk in indignation and hop away a couple of steps as the bird continued to flap her wings at a blurring speed while blasting away leaves and charred grass. Before Lyra could say anything a big white head was pushed into her chest as Shirak let loose a deep rumbling purr.
Smiling as the big cat was reduced to a kitten Lyra rubbed her tiger's ears. Looking up at Mehaila she asked the obvious question. "Sooo....what happened?"