The other elf straightens up as well. He nods his head towards Mythaniel.
"Tall, Dark and Dreary is right. As entertaining as this little comedy skit may be, Surely that's not what you brought us here for? I hope."
The elf's eyes settle on the blue-skinned woman standing among the Judge's retainers. A flicker of surprise crosses his features. He obviously missed her before. He breaks into a wide grin.
"Well well now. Things are looking up! Hello sweetheart! Did you come to plead my case for me? Looks like I'm in good hands! No worries darling. You really shouldn't have bothered. This is a simple open-and-shut case. A simple incident of mistaken identity. Possession is nine-tenths of the law after all. And I was clearly in possession of the items in question. It's the OTHER guy who should be in here, not me. We'll clear this little misunderstanding up in no time, and I can thank you properly over a nice dinner and an expensive bottle of wine." He winks at the woman, still smiling confidently.
Chandi surveys the newcomers dispassionately. It is not her place to speak before His Grace initiated proceedings. Besides, watching the group emerge from the prison gave her clues to their nature.
Confinement has obviously been very stressful on their minds. I wonder if they remain sufficiently intact to be useful for our purpose. Some certainly seem to be delusional. A brief frown flickers across her face. Surely they were not like this before they went into the Tower?
"So this guy walks into a tavern and sees three pieces of meat hanging from the ceiling. The guy asks, “What’s this about?” The bartender replies, “Well, if you can jump up and slap the meat, you get free drinks for the rest of the night. If you miss, you pay for everyone’s drinks for the next hour. You wanna do it?” And so the guy says to the barkeep, “Nah, the steaks are too high.”
Myth shakes his head and glares at the Judge, "This is perhaps the worst form of torture I have ever encountered. I am not sure what I must do to make it stop. Release me or place me back in my cell. Alone".
Myth shakes his head and glares at the Judge, "This is perhaps the worst form of torture I have ever encountered. I am not sure what I must do to make it stop. Release me or place me back in my cell. Alone".
"Aw, come on, bud, that was funny. Wasn't that funny? I thought it was funny."
Myth shakes his head and glares at the Judge, "This is perhaps the worst form of torture I have ever encountered. I am not sure what I must do to make it stop. Release me or place me back in my cell. Alone"."Aw, come on, bud, that was funny. Wasn't that funny? I thought it was funny."
"Actually,... Yeah, THAT one was pretty good." The elf 'Ash' admits reluctantly. He gives the burly comedian a look that indicates he might not be happy sharing the mouthy-spotlight.
Indrana's first few days of incarceration had been...loud. The voices were maddening to an already nearly insane woman and she did a great deal of harm to herself as she tried to beat the bars into silence. She was given the minimum treatment to keep infection from setting in and then the process repeated for quite a while. She eventually began to lose track of it all as the days and nights blurred together. After an indeterminate time things changed, the bars began to wine, and the wining disturbed her, it made her angry.
The appearance of the man who came to speak with her, and the guards, was intriguing. While Indrana may have been fairly brutish most of the time she understood exactly when to seize an opportunity and so she went with the man willingly, following the directions to kneel and be restrained. She was tempted to attack when they came close, very tempted, slaughter the guards first and then rip the leader's still beating heart from his chest and make him watch her eat it as he died...somehow she resisted the impulse.
She went with them calmly, the ever present anger seething inside of her, and accepted when they stood her before the judge's and chained her to the floor near the others. Her red hair was long and disheveled from being unable to clean herself regularly and brush it, but it detracted little from her beauty. Her horns stuck up from the front of her skull, her bat like wings hobbled with cruel hooks, and her lithe feminine form seemed to ooze sensuality. Yet despite the fact she looked like a woman who couldn't harm anyone physically it was obvious from the way she was herded in that the guards were scared of her. She smiled evilly at the guard who chained her down and he quailed slightly at the expression before steeling his resolve.
She looked over at the others but kept quiet for now, she was simply observing with the cold calculation of one imagining how to carve up a slab of meat in a butcher shop. When the judge entered she looked up, finally deigning to notice the blue skinned woman who was near him, and listened to the banter of the mouthy one in the line up with her and the others.
She looked over at the others but kept quiet for now, she was simply observing with the cold calculation of one imagining how to carve up a slab of meat in a butcher shop.
The hulking man with the stitched mouth returns the bat-winged girl’s look with a similar one of his own.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Eddin watches as the winged woman is led into the room. As she draws near, he points to her horns, then gestures to his own forehead.
"Hey there, lady. You've, ah... I don't know how to say this... I think someone stuck something on your face when you weren't paying attention."
He turns back to the gray-skinned giant, jabbing a thumb into the air in her direction.
"Was that you? Boy, I knew you loved pulling pranks, but this one takes the cake. How'd you do that one, buddy?"
Eddin gives the newcomer an aside glance.
"Don't you worry, we'll get that stuff off in a jiffy. Don't mind Mr. Sunshine here, he loves joking around. Speaking of jokes, I've got one for you..."
He pauses for effect, then continues.
"So this hooker walks into a bar, and the bartender says, "we don't serve dead hookers here." Then the hooker says, "but I'm not dead." And then the bartender pulls out a knife and stabs her right through the eye socket."
The noble on the throne sits forward frowning
"Silence"
He doesn't speak loudly, but his voice has a quiet authority to it
"You have all been brought before me today to be given a chance to earn your freedom from the Black Tower. Most of you have earned life sentences for your deeds. This is a chance for you to start anew somewhere else, far from your cold cells"
He leans back and steeples his fingers
"We need powerful people to go on a quest. It is a dangerous quest, and I do not guarantee you will survive. However, should you accomplish your quest, you will be set free and given a gate to another plane where you can start fresh far from Argoan."
He pauses, then resumes
"Is there anyone interested? If so say yea, and I will explain more. If this doesn't not interest you I can have you brought back to your cells forthwith"
"You mean I'm going to get my own plane? With blackjack and hookers? Count me in, pal."
Ash's eyes follow Eddie's gaze as the winged woman is led into the room.
"Well, Hello there!" The elf smiles engagingly, raising a slim eyebrow.
He tries to jerk a thumb in Eddie's direction, as far as the manacles will allow.
"Don't mind him darlin'. Far as I can tell, the only thing funny about him is the fact that he still thinks he's funny."
The noble on the throne sits forward frowning
"Silence"
Any further comment is squashed as the elf, willingly or non, closes his mouth with a snap. His gaze is drawn to the throne as the noble lays out their options. There is a flicker of genuine curiosity in his otherwise unhappy demeanor.
"Huh." The elf says after a moment, dutifully ignoring the burly, chatty human. His gaze darts to one side, then the other, taking in the group assembled.
"Well. Your sales pitch needs some polish. Although it IS a big step up from the usual 'TWANG! Stop or I'll shoot!'." Ash observes wryly.
"It's what you didn't say that has me curious though. I only recognize about half of this eclectic collection of Argoan's Finest. But I see a brawler, warriors, blade men, and magikers who specialize in playing peek-a-boo with things that usually hide under the bed. Add to that a specialist in getting into places where he doesn't belong,..." He bows his head without humility, ,...And I'm guessing that by 'A Dangerous Quest' you mean 'A Task so Dangerous it Sends Armored Knights Running Home to Mommy with Soiled Breeches'."
Ash raises an eyebrow, daring to hold the nobles gaze for a moment. Then breaks into a wide grin.
"FIN-ally! Something exciting to do! I swear, I was gonna go squirrel-nuts if I had to sit in that tiny room listening to your creepy walls for too much longer. Yeah. I'm interested. If I stay locked up much longer, I might end up like him!" He once again attempts to point at the burly Eddie with a thumb.
"Is this a quest that I can accomplish alone? If not can it be arranged that these "Kings of Comedy" are silenced for the duration?".
Myth starts then pauses realizing that this may indeed be his only chance to get out of the Black Tower and he pushes past his own arrogance and changes his tune, "Despite the fact that I was solely blamed for the "crimes" in my case, I will accept your offer no matter the terms. A fresh start indeed"...
Indrana's gave first was drawn to Mareth and she recognized a kindred killer in the man. She nodded slightly in grudging respect but then turned her baleful glare on Eddin. She simply glared at him and nearly snarled at him before Greygar spoke to her. Her gaze went to the elf assessingly and then she smiled slightly, there wasn't warmth in the smile, only hunger. She looked him up and down before saying in a husky and sensuous voice, "You will be a fun plaything little elf. I hope you have stamina, you'll need it."
It was about that time the judge appeared and demanded silence. Her gaze turned to him and her eyes narrowed in hatred as she imagined what she would do to him when she got the chance. While her thoughts were building towards doing something stupid despite the restraints the sudden offer of possible freedom caught her immediate attention. Taken aback she thought it through, another world that she could conquer, she could enjoy that, it might even give her the chance to return to this one someday so she could take revenge on these fools. Her decision made her gaze caught the judges, the hatred and murderous impulse still showing through them, as she said, "Yea."
"Hey, ever hear the joke about the broom? It's sweeping the nation."
"I've heard that they bury lawyers under five yards of dirt instead of two because, deep down, they're really good people."
The stitch-lip eyes his fellow criminals appraisingly for a few moments, before making a gurgling noise which may signal disgust, assent, perhaps even amusement. He steps forward, stares intently at the judge for a moment, then nods sharply.
Her gaze went to the elf assessingly and then she smiled slightly, there wasn't warmth in the smile, only hunger. She looked him up and down before saying in a husky and sensuous voice, "You will be a fun plaything little elf. I hope you have stamina, you'll need it."
The elf gives a smile whose self-confidence never wavers.
"Yeah,... I hope so too." He murmurs in what could be either anticipation, or fear.
His gaze is distracted from the striking winged woman by the motions and comments of the others. He smirks as if to say, 'I told you so.'
A moment before the enthroned noble issues his offer, four fully armed soldiers march a white-haired female of rather small stature into the room. Each soldier has a hold on a handle link connected to a chain leading to one of four loops connected to a ring of metal banded around the woman's neck. The thick ring has four loops for the chains, but no visible lock or hinge. The armored soldiers, of which no trace can be seen in their heavy plate, move as one, the corners of an unseen box surrounding the prisoner.
The woman's head is bowed and her dirty white locks drip like moss on a cypress tree in a bayou. Her bangs hang low over her face leaving only her mouth exposed; her lips are slightly parted and her breathing comes in ragged gasps. Her dirty gray shift emphasizes the bronzed sienna color of her skin. Her bare feet are blackened from whatever pit she had been kept. Her ankles were manacled with a length of chain connecting them while another connected to the chain which ran between her wrist manacles as well. Perhaps curiously, her hands were completely encased in what appeared to be gauntlets made of a similar material as served for the draining cell bars to which everyone was familiar. Just on the edge of hearing are the whispers the condemned have come to know and love...
The five of them make quite the racket, chains and armor and weapons rattling and clanking during the whole procession. The soldiers however moved quickly and by extension, the woman. They led her to the lineup where they simply stopped, the petite young-looking woman in their box of chains. Not one of them made any further sound, but in between Eddin's jokes and Ash's verbosity, one can hear the woman's soft but ragged breathing.
The noble on the throne sits forward frowning.
"Silence"
He doesn't speak loudly, but his voice has a quiet authority to it.
"You have all been brought before me today to be given a chance to earn your freedom from the Black Tower. Most of you have earned life sentences for your deeds. This is a chance for you to start anew somewhere else, far from your cold cells"
He leans back and steeples his fingers.
"We need powerful people to go on a quest. It is a dangerous quest, and I do not guarantee you will survive. However, should you accomplish your quest, you will be set free and given a gate to another plane where you can start fresh far from Argoan."
He pauses, then resumes.
"Is there anyone interested? If so say yea, and I will explain more. If this doesn't not interest you I can have you brought back to your cells forthwith."
The woman's breath catches slightly, and her chin raises. A dirty lock slips aside and an eye with a bright red iris can be seen as she regards the speaker. She seems stunned with amazement, and reflexively tries to lift her gauntleted hands only to be prevented by the chains. Her head bows again once again enshrouding her face with lank whitish hair. She seems to look this way and possibly the whispers those nearby can hear are no longer coming from just the casings on her hands.
Then she giggles.
Immediately, the four soldiers pull the chains taut which has the effect of lifting the woman off of her feet given how much smaller she is than them. Suspended, she kicks her feet with much rattling of manacle and chain. The collar she wears seems to constrict as if it was merely a cloth rope as the four soldiers pull. It would be a rather pitiable sight...if it was happening anywhere that wasn't this place, that is. After a moment of this, the four soldiers lower their chains down causing the woman to fall to the floor where she collapses to her knees given just enough slack to do so. She coughs for a few seconds before resuming her ragged breathing.
Anyone watching closely sees that despite the woman's experience just now, a slow smile has begun to creep across the mouth exposed beneath her hair. Her teeth are perfect and white. Two curved fangs become visible lending her smile an unmistakable air of threat and menace. She struggles to stand once more; the soldiers raising their chains to remove the slack as she does so. Once on her feet, no trace of the smile exists as if it never was.
She nods once sharply to the noble, but makes no sound other than breathing.
At the slim, small woman's giggles, Ash raises his eyebrow once more. He nods at her.
"At least SHE'S happy!"
Myth looks at the new figure and the chains she is shrouded in and actually chuckles, "Well at least before we leave and we all see each other we know exactly how civilized our captors are. Not very are they?"
The elf asks glancing around at his new "companions" - mouths stitched shut, adorned in choke collars, or otherwise manacled. "An interesting study in the treatment of prisoners eh? Humane treatment is any treatment the victor deems appropriate. The word hypocritical comes to mind... one final lesson taught by this realm we are being asked to defend and then promptly depart."
The white-haired girl says, "What does humane have to do with necessity?"
Her voice is flat without affect and only just enough intonation to denote her statement is a question.
"What humane treatment could they offer me that would not expose a weakness? You think I look this way and am shackled in such a manner because have given them any alternative?"
A single shake of her dirty hair moves it enough for one bright red eye to peer out towards the line-up of evil. Her mouth a simple line on faded brass skin.
"This? This is my choice." Again the flat tone, soft words. "If they even give me one inch..."
Her eye seems to glow for a second, the red vivid among her matted locks. Her gaze focuses on Mythaniel.
"You...you look..." Her single becomes disturbingly intense. She takes a deep breath as if inhaling the smell of a flower or a fine wine. She holds it for a second before releasing it with a breathy,
"...delicious."
Myth cocks his head at the woman angered that she has sided with the captors after he tried so very hard to flatten out their moral high ground, "I would have simply de-fanged you little beast. A much more civilized solution. After all, does one not de-claw a cat that scratches up the house furniture?
I do not only look delicious, I am delicious"...
Myth's eyes go wide and he stares daggers at Eddie and Geygar, "The disease of these two, it appears, is contagious".
The noble nods thoughtfully
"Very well. This is the quest I propose to you. We need to find out what is transpiring deep within the Underdark. There are waves of subterranean dwellers attacking the Suderlands, and for the security of our kingdom, they must be halted. To do that we need a clear view of exactly what is occurring below: The incidents, The main players, any intelligence that can be obtained will be crucial to our spring campaign.
"Obviously, a trek deep into the bowels of the Helcaraxe Mountains is not easy, especially with the denizens stirred up. There is talk of the drow being involved somehow, which makes it all the more dangerous. Below the mountains is the fabled dark elf city known as Maerimydra. No surface dweller in living memory has made it as far down as its gates, but that might be where we need you to go."
He turns to Mythaniel
"As for humane treatment? If you had been caught in our neighbor Dargestan your heads would have long rotted off a spike above their capital's walls. Do you think you deserve kindness? Most other kingdoms think we are softhearted to lock you up and feed you until old age claims you. You who have killed hundreds of innocents."
He sighs
"But we do not claim ultimate judgement in Argoan. That is left in the hands of Judicia, the Iron Maid of Justice. She alone will judge your shades when you die, and may she have mercy on those black tattered things."
He stands up and gestures. a group of guards move forward bearing iron collars.
"These are sorcerous collars. We will attach them to your necks. My menchenjaeger Chandi,"
He gestures to the blue-skinned woman by him
"Is going to be your leader in this quest. She has control of these collars. If she dies, the collars all constrict, chopping your heads off. If you move three kilometers away from her, the same. If you try to remove the collars, the same. She also has the power to constrict the collars at her will, not to kill, but to punish. Follow her orders, and no harm shall come to you."
The guards affix the collars to the prisoner's necks, then the shackles are removed. A bundle is placed at each prisoner's feet. They recognize their old gear they were captured with
"Serve Argoan well and you will be granted free passage to another plane, and your outlawry will be lifted, subject to you pledging never to enter Argoan's lands again."
Myth swallows as the collar is placed around his neck he eyes Chandi and nods smiling in as non-threatening a manner as he can muster, Best to start off on the right foot with one who has the power of life and death over you.
"Slain hundreds? I most certainly have not and few, if any, that I have slain were innocent of any crimes themselves.
You do not believe what you say, we both know it eats at you to watch us treated thusly. I was given no fair trial and still have yet to receive one, nor will I it seems.
Equivocate all you wish, this quest is a death sentence but one so much easier to pass when the lives of those at issue are of little value to you but simultaneously so useful based on the abilities we possess.
Still, I will Pledge never to return again to Argoan lands". Or at least if I decide to return here again I shall re-name them something else...
Indrana noticed the arrival of the strange, white haired, woman and her eyes lit up in interest. This one bore watching and could become quite useful, or dangerous, it all depended on what her goals were. As the judge snapped at Mythaniel and the prisoner made a reply, Indrana chuckled in low amusement as she replied, "I thin the judge is becoming old, he meant me, and if it makes you feel better they would have been feeding me until the day their kingdom falls."
As the collar was attached she felt a certain sense of relief, particularly when she found the bundle dropped at her feet. Her things were returned. She looked at the guard who had attached the collar and glared as her head gestured towards her wings, "Get those hooks off now," her voice turned bitter, "I can't fly with them anyway."
The noble harumphs
"I meant collectively, as in the plural you. But enough of this sniping."
He rises and gives something to Chandi
Chandi:
"Horses are in the fortress stables for the journey along with rations and camping gear in a small wain. I have assigned two drovers who are also guardsmen to watch over the wagon. I also have a scout of the Argoan Rangers to ride point for you. He knows the Suderlands well and will assist you in finding the proper area on the Helcaraxes."
"I wish you good luck in your quest. Do well, and a new chance at life is yours for the taking."
With that he departs, leaving Chandi and the prisoners to begin their quest
Mareth cracks his neck and clenches and un-clenches his fists once the collar is fitted and the manacles removed, all the while staring intently at the duke as he converses privately with the blue-skinned woman.
Then he reaches down and begins un-hurriedly, methodically donning his armour and other gear. Slowly, the translucent skin, stitched mouth and red eyes disappear beneath a suit of cruelly spiked black iron. Lastly he hefts a heavy, long hafted spiked hammer.
Myth cocks his head at the woman angered that she has sided with the captors after he tried so very hard to flatten out their moral high ground, "I would have simply de-fanged you little beast. A much more civilized solution. After all, does one not de-claw a cat that scratches up the house furniture?
I do not only look delicious, I am delicious"...
Myth's eyes go wide and he stares daggers at Eddie and Geygar, "The disease of these two, it appears, is contagious".
"Buddy, I don't even want to think about how you taste. I'm guessing it's a combination of sour milk, vinegar, and sadness. And her... I think young miss might have some kind of condition."
"Slain hundreds? I most certainly have not and few, if any, that I have slain were innocent of any crimes themselves.
"Aw, it's not that hard. And what does it matter if they're criminals? They're strangers. You don't know them. Practically not even people. Hey, that reminds me, anyone ever tell you how to kill a circus? Just go for the juggler."
Chandi moves to the edge of the seats, fastens a brilliant silver necklace around her neck after examining the fist-shaped pendant, and vaults the wall to drop down among the former prisoners, her new charges. She raises her voice to address them, indicating the necklace she just donned. Her black hair is bound in a practical braid, and she wears loose robes, a silver fillet around her brow, another necklace, and a fine belt.
"I am Chandi, your "minder" for this adventure. This necklace is life and death to you. If it is removed from my neck, if I die, if you stray too far from it, you will die. It is in your best interest to keep me alive."
"I propose to you that it is in your best interest to keep each other alive, as well. The stronger our force, the greater the chance we have of coming through this ordeal, and the greater the chance you achieve your new home and freedom."
"If you need more reason to keep one another alive, remember that it will cost the Duke gold for every one of you he sends through a portal. If it gives you pleasure to gloat about such things, recall that, and defend one another."
"I have some small skill at healing, and pledge to do my best to keep your body and soul together while we perform this quest. Whether you believe it or not, it pleases me that you have been given this chance to do good. You have choice now, and the ability to make good choices that will cleanse your soul and shorten your journey on the Great Wheel of Transmigration. You may even learn to enjoy doing good. At the very worst, you will die on your feet in battle, not rotting away in this place. The Duke deems life in the Tower a kind of mercy, but I believe death might be preferable."
"The Duke has provided supplies and transportation as well as a guide for the journey. Let us proceed to the stables and leave this place. Our guides are not to be touched, nor are any of the citizens of Argoan. Save your wrath for what we find in the Underdark. Patience. You have waited this long. Do not be foolishly hasty now."
Turning to one of the guards, she requests that they be escorted to the stables.
"Get those hooks off now," her voice turned bitter, "I can't fly with them anyway."
"Aw, really? That stinks. I bet you get those things stuck in doorways all the time."
"I am Chandi, your "minder" for this adventure. This necklace is life and death to you. If it is removed from my neck, if I die, if you stray too far from it, you will die. It is in your best interest to keep me alive."
"So you were the one who came up with these collar things? I don't think I've ever had a pretty lady like you give me jewelry before. Say, you've got a pretty voice, too. Maybe you could sing me a song sometime."
"You may even learn to enjoy doing good."
Eddin gives a hearty laugh.
"Heck, I was doing pretty good before you people decided I was..." He pauses and makes pantomime "quotation marks" in the air with his fingers. "..."A danger to society." You kill two hundred Dargestani at Knucklebone Hill, and nobody bats an eyelash, but when you strangle a couple dozen random strangers, everyone goes completely bonkers."
Even ten years after his arrest, Eddin dons his old gear with a practiced ease, and in short order has buckled on his fine white-metal armor and sword belt, and slung his quiver and hefty crossbow over his back. He takes a few practice swings with his gleaming longsword, making a point to narrowly miss a few of his new companions in the process.
"Whoops, close call there, folks. I guess I was kind of out of practice, but then I got a handle on it." He grasps his sword by the blade, pointing to the grip. "See? It's right there."
He turns, as if to make for the door, but then pauses dramatically, gesturing to Myth and Ash, then pointing to a mummified severed hand dangling from his belt. "If that was one of your pointy-eared buddies, I'm very sorry. It's just that it's come in really handy over the years."
"...Say, you've got a pretty voice, too. Maybe you could sing me a song sometime."
"Threatening me is not in your best interest, either," Chandi states dispassionately.
The process of unhooking Atma is somewhat laborious as each manacle is slowly unlocked. The thick neck collar turns out to be magic and each of her four handlers must place their hand on the loop connecting to the chain simultaneously. The collar suddenly splits into four pieces, and each retracts into the chain which in turn retracts into the handle the soldiers carry.
The woman's eyes are wide, and she seems to be holding her breath during the process. When the last of the chains has been removed and pulled away, only the rigid gauntlets remain. After a moment, her eyes begin to look around wildly, as she stands there with just the soul-sapping gloves, worry that she is to be left in this state etched into her otherwise strangely blank expression. Then a cleric steps from the side flanked by two soldiers in heavy plate. The cleric mutters some words and presents a holy symbol at which point there is an audible click, and the cleric reaches out and pulls the gauntlets off slowly. Then he retreats with the artifact with his protectors leaving the white-haired girl standing alone.
Her hands are still the same sienna color as the rest of her skin but somehow a paler and sallow tone. The woman stares at them in disbelief as if she's never seen them before. She hasn't moved them since the gloves were removed. She continues to hold both hands out before her, cupped with palms facing each other, and her elbows at right angles. Suddenly something happens in the space between her hands. A tiny orb of strange energy appears.
It's small at first, but quickly begins to grow. A blackness dripping with an almost violently violet color swirls around and around. A tearing and sucking sound like hearing static through a long tube begins to fill the room, and the energy begins to change the way light is perceived. Shadows being cast seem to stretch into the woman and her power rather than away. All the while her eyes, naturally red begin to glow, and her fanged smile grows wider and wider and wider. The orb of power continues to grow larger and larger until it has nearly suffused her small form entirely. From any angle she appears as if surrounded by the black and purple orb, but the eye sees her as if she is in front of it and merely standing with a halo behind her, a gaping portal into the void.
Her previous soldier guards all take defensive positions as is most likely the reaction of everyone else. She turns her head for the first time taking her eyes off of the power emanating from the space between her hands. Her rapturous expression changes as she looks at her fellow prisoners becoming something more sinister and wholly evil. Her eyes seem to measure each of them. When her gaze reaches Mythaniel, she runs her tongue over one of her pointed incisors, and she deliberately winks one eye with exaggerated effect.
Without warning, she suddenly turns her hands palm up and closes them into fists, the void energy collapses and vanishes in microseconds leaving disturbingly profound silence in its wake. The girl's expression is once again blank. Her red eyes appear normal if half-lidded and bored. Her mouth is a simple line her lips thin and pale against her bronzed skin. She regards her fellows once more, but now seems indifferent or unaffected or both.
Turning to Chandi, she raises both closed hands before her face as if to hide her fangs as she says simply, "I am currently called Atma Leere. Minder Chandi, you needn't worry about how good my choices will be. My choices are always great. Unlike others, no matter in what situation I find myself, my choice will always be paramount. I dictate the way I live, no one else." Her tone is emotionless, and instead of being stated with emphatic tone she emphasizes her points merely by pausing before the word. Otherwise her cadence is steady and without fluctuation.
She watches Eddin's attempt to flirt go up in flames dispassionately then once again turns to Chandi.
"You say you want us to leave this place...but not before I can bathe. Look at my feet." She holds up one foot blackened from dirt.
"If any of you wish to bathe, carry your gear to the stable. I will create clean water for you there."
Atma stares blankly at Chandi. What she thinks about the Samsaran's proposal a complete mystery.
Atma suddenly shrugs and kneels down to scoop up a pack and some other items.
"Lead on, Lady Blue," she says around the pile of stuff even now moving at least one hand to cover the sight of her speech.
"...Say, you've got a pretty voice, too. Maybe you could sing me a song sometime.""Threatening me is not in your best interest, either," Chandi states dispassionately.
"Come on, that wasn't a threat. For one, if it was a threat, it would have been way funnier. Sometimes I wonder if anyone takes me seriously..."
"Hey, what do you get when you cross a vampire with a snail? A really slow vampire."
Myth sneers at Eddin , "Friends how quaint. I crave power and I have it. Now I shall continue my quest, dark elves light elves I care not which I must leave behind to get it".
Myth stares back at the creature that called itself Atma, "By all means strike at me. I am interested to know how exactly these collars work..."
Myth nods at her last statement a bath would be a good thing.
Myth sneers at Eddin , "Friends how quaint. I crave power and I have it. Now I shall continue my quest, dark elves light elves I care not which I must leave behind to get it".
"Alright, bud, don't hurt yourself. Boy, you're wrapped up so gosh-danged tight I bet you get a hernia just looking in the mirror. Sheesh..."
Indrana gave the loudmouthed prat Eddin a snarl at his facetious comment but was distracted as Atma summoned up that ball of energy. She saw the look that was give to some of the others and she decided right away that she liked this one. The distraction that Atma's display caused made the guards forget about her request and she was pleased. She moved towards Chandi slowly and then turned and knelt as she said, "Remove the hooks, I can't reach them." She didn't say please but she was as close to polite about it as she was going to get.
Chandi frowns at the hooks and crooks her finger at a guard. "Come remove this device. I don't know how to do it properly and she does not need to start this venture injured." She steps back to let the man disentangle the hooks from the wings, thinking darkly, Plenty of time for that soon enough.
The hooks coming free were what a great relief and no sooner had they been released than her wings snapped open drawing a groan of pain from her throat as the muscles protested. She stretched, her hands on the small of her back as she did, and the motion caused the pitiful rags she was wearing to stretch and tear. She straightened and then leaned down, grabbing her bag, and moving to follow their escort to the stables.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
"If any of you wish to bathe, carry your gear to the stable. I will create clean water for you there."
Ash watches the entrance of the white-haired woman with interest. She is the first he's seen in a long time with hair color so close to his own.
He continues in silence for a time (You get the impression that doesn't happen very often.) observing the speech, reactions, and generally rolling his eyes at anything that Eddie says. Only when Altma tests her freedom by using her power does he show any actual interest. And that seems to be on finding the nearest exit.
When the light (Dark?) show ends suddenly, he nods sagely.
"Oh yeah. THIS is gonna be fun!" He says, picking up his own gear (after swiftly checking that it IS his, and everything is actually there) and following the blue lady from the room. HE looks far more interested in a bath right now than in adventuring.
First things first, after all.
The group heads to the fortress stables. Inside there is a stout gelding for each of them with all the requisite tack, a saddle, bedroll and saddlebags. Two men in chain mail are checking over a wagon with a four-horse team. The wagon is in the Traveler style: enclosed like a miniature house on wheels. A metal chimney sticks out of the top, and there are a large assortment of tools attached to the outside. The two pause when the group enters and they salute Chandi before resuming their tasks.
A slender man stands by a beautiful black-coated stallion, combing it and checking the tack. He straightens, and they see a buzz cut blonde half-elf with a set of green-dyed leather armor. There is a sturdy elven bow attached to his saddle and he carries a slender elven curved sword at his hip. He nods respectfully to Chandi
"Menchenjaeger Chandi? I am First Scout Fingàl, of the Border Rangers. I've been attached to your party to help guide you to your destination. Well met."
Chandi returns the salute of the guards with a brief wave and nods to the Ranger in turn. "Well met, Fingàl. We will be a few minutes while the.... group prepares, then will be on our way. One moment, if you please."
She rolls out a large half-cask that has been stored on edge, apparently used at need for a washtub or trough, then makes a few passes above it until it is filled with clean water which appears mid-air and splashes into the cask. She nods at Atma and gestures at the tub, then turns back to Fingàl. "It will be but a few moments. A wash will do them good and make life better for all of us. I do not know what instructions the Duke has given, but it would be well if we made our way cross-country or on seldom-used roads, avoiding settlements. Swift and silent is best for our mission."
She turns to the former prisoners. "Select a mount and pack your gear for long riding. Those who wish to cleanse themselves are welcome to do so; I will replenish the water at need. We will be on our way as soon as you are ready - sooner, if you are not swift."