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Land of Tatakai

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» broken oaths, Blazeh, Fyfer
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 1 2016, 12:19 PM
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Verridith

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PLAYERS INVOLVED:
@Verridith (Blazeh)
@Fyfergrund (Fyfer)

SETTING: Famine Fortress.

WEATHER: Cold, threatening rain.

TIME: Current! Afternoon.

CHARACTERS INVOLVED:
Slain, Jekt (Blazeh), Vortigern (Fyfer)

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
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"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 6 2016, 08:17 PM
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Fyfergrund

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For the past year, Vortigern had been too preoccupied with affairs within his own Kingdom, looking into procuring a new wing for Slain, and researching some way to free Jekt from Slain's mind that wouldn't require such a heavy sacrifice as Z'lanth had predicted to spend much time keeping track of what Slain had been up to. With Razor and Z'laenna both vanished, the immediate threat of war had diminished significantly, although border raids had become quite common.

But now, circumstances both allowed and dictated he make another visit to Famine Fortress. Only this time, as he strode towards the fortress gates, he wasn't alone. Two robed, hooded Pestilence mages accompanied him, carrying a wrapped bundle between them as they followed behind him.

He came to a stop a small distance from the gates, and gazed up at its towering bulwarks. "Hallow the fortress! Vortigern of Pestilence would meet with Slain of Famine!" he called.
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 6 2016, 09:53 PM
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Oddly enough, it was not the cocky Lord of Famine nor his right hand, Damien, who answered; the walls were strangely empty, save for a few hellwolf faces. One in particular surfaced and looked down upon them, ears pricked, green eyes narrowed.

He was a large hellwolf, lightly built, with wide wings and a brown pelt. This one was one Vortigern would know from previous visits - the one named Lancer, beta of the royal pack. "Let him in! he called to his fellows by the gates, and then disappeared from the wall. When the gates opened wide to admit him and his mages, the hellwolf was there, looking tired and drawn.

"Slain is asleep," he said, waiting until the Lord of Pestilence was near. "Damien was hurt, and he spent the last three days tracking the band that ambushed him. Slaughtered twenty Death demons before coming back; he hasn't woken up since." He laid his ears flat. "You may try to wake him, but stand clear. He's been in one hell of a foul mood."

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 7 2016, 08:41 PM
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The news delivered by the hellwolf was both welcome, and irksome. Irksome because it meant Famine had been facing border troubles just as Pestilence had, and that it had led Slain to being indisposed at an inopportune time. What was welcome about it was, despite being injured, Damien was still alive.

"I see. Well, perhaps I can change his mood for the better," he stated, nodding to the hellwolf before heading inside the fortress. A hellwolf he had seen before, and recalled being named Garza, led him through the fortress to Slain's personal quarters before leaving him and his companions, clearly wanting to be no part of what might happen.

"Wait here," he ordered his mages, then turned towards the door, He hesitated, hand on the handle, then glanced their way again. "On second thought, you had best wait downstairs until I summon you." As they bowed and departed, he turned back to the door, and entered. Sure enough, Slain was still sound asleep.

"Slain?" Of course it wouldn't be that easy. He strode across the room, and placed his hand on Slain's shoulder, shaking him relatively gently. "Slain, we need to talk."
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 15 2016, 03:31 PM
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"Mmm," Slain answered, stirring slowly. He was in human form, of course, having tossed his shirt aside on the floor before flopping on the bed whenever he went to sleep; he'd been too exhausted to even summon a girl to accompany him to bed, which - as the entire Fortress had noted, by now - was very unusual. He rolled over and stilled, muttering something intelligible, before reaching over to the other side of the bed.

When he found it empty, the Lord woke a little more and blinked sleepily at the cold side of his bed; making a disgruntled sound, then he blinked at Vortigern, squinting while propped up on one elbow.

"You weren't who I was expecting," he grumbled, and flopped back onto his bed. "What're you wakin' me up for? You ain't no pretty woman, so who the hell let you in? Geeze, can't a guy get any sleep around here?"

The hellwolves at the door had to turn tail and run, lest the Lord hear their sniggers.

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 19 2016, 05:56 PM
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Vortigern eyed slain with a critical eye as the Lord of Famine stirred a bit, muttering and rolling over before becoming still. Thinking Slain might've drifted back to sleep, the Pestilence Lord leaned down and gripped the side of the bed, ready to flip it, and Slain, over, when he saw Slain move and grumble something inaudible. He released the bed, and straightened up as the Famine Lord slowly roused himself.

"Does it really matter who? And there will be time enough for sleeping later. Right now there are more important things. One of which is sure to interest you," he stated, overriding Slain's grumbling as he mentally summoned the pair of mages he'd brought with him. Without a word, they strode down the hall, and wordlessly bowed, if somewhat awkwardly, as they entered the room, carefully maneuvering their burden through the door.

"It's time you were made physically whole again."
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 24 2016, 04:55 PM
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"Only way I'll be physically whole again," the Lord muttered, giving Vortigern an ugly look as he swung off the bed and to his feet, "is if someone who isn't-"

However, there the half-demon stopped dead, suddenly tense, half in the process of putting his belt around his breeches. Taking in a breath as his scarlet eyes settled on the thing the mages held between them, he finished the buckle and strode forward, gaze glowing faintly red. Suddenly, he understood.

Without another word, he reached out to touch the bundle... and then ripped the cover away without warning, eyes on nothing but what lay underneath as the cloth was flung into a distant wall.

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 24 2016, 08:24 PM
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Fyfergrund

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The Old Man of BTACD

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28673 jaden

Awards: 6



Vortigern met Slain's gaze without flinching, well aware of the Famine Lord's moodiness. So, between recent events and being roused from slumber, Slain's mood was not unexpected. His expression remained the same even as Slain fell silent, gazing upon the bundle the two mages still held.

Neither mage moved as the Famine Lord approached, aside from bowing their heads in respect. As the concealing cloth was ripped away, a dark,leathery, draconic wing, carefully folded, lay upon the litter the mages held. It was, in every way, a mirror image of the one Slain revealed to Vortigern the previous year, except reversed to fit the one which was missing. On the wing's edge, where it would be joined to a body, a connection of bare muscles and nerves twitched, surrounded by a faint weaving of runes.

"This took the better part of a year to craft. Now the spell is all but complete. All that is yet required is a small sample of your blood. A few drops would suffice," Vortigern explained.
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 25 2016, 04:22 PM
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The half-demon took in a deep breath. He couldn't believe his eyes, for a moment; he reached out to gingerly touch the wing, then drew his hand away, running it instead through his white hair. "How the fuck..." he muttered. Then, he shook his head.

He held out one hand and part-shifted a thumb on his other; with a quick swipe, he scratched his palm so that blood began to well from a shallow wound. "Take all you need," he said quietly. Almost hungrily.

Oh, how long he had waited to be whole...

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 25 2016, 05:14 PM
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"It was...complicated," Vortigern merely replied, declining to go into detail. A full explanation would take time, and he doubted Slain really cared about more than finally being able to transform without worry.

One of the mages tapped the litter, which drifted a short ways away to hover int he air, while the other lowered a clawed finger towards the bleeding wound on Slain's hand, almost touching it before lifting his hand. Several drops flowed upward to form a crimson bead just shy of the demon mage's extended claw. Under the mage's direction, the bead of blood drifted towards the wing, and morphed into a long, thin tendril which then landed on the exposed nerves and muscles.

The other mage placed his hands atop the wing as it abruptly twitched, tensing and slightly unfolding. The muscles and nerves writhed, and seemed to stretch themselves towards Slain, as if reaching out to embrace the Famine Lord.

"Shift, so that you may be made whole," Vortigern instructed softly. The wing knew what it wanted, now. As soon as Slain had complied, the mages would place the wing where it need to be, and the spells upon it and Slain's healing ability would do the rest.
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 25 2016, 07:52 PM
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There was a moment of hesitation - of inward fear - so unlike the Lord of Famine that his uncertainty might have been taken note of by those who knew him well. He felt the stirring of others in his mind and abruptly shook his head, then shifted, taking care that the open wound did not close before intended.

|You're afraid,| came a voice. His brother. |How unlike you.|

|Yeah, well, it's not exactly mine,| came his reply. But he could feel Jekt's warm joy and felt it infect him as well - soon, he was grinning, sharp teeth in a draconic muzzle gleaming in a smile.

"Alright, doc, put it on me," he said, grin widening. Fear quickly gave way to excitement. He would be able to fly again. Really fly!

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 25 2016, 08:52 PM
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Fyfergrund

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Awards: 6



Vortigern sensed the faint stirrings of something, or rather someone within Slain's mind, but who exactly it was was unknown. He remained silent as Slain hesitated briefly, then shifted, revealing the gaping wound on his back.

As soon as Slain shifted, before he even spoke, the mages were in motion. Carefully, they lifted the wing, and aligned it with the broad wound on Slain's back before stepping forward, releasing their hold on it as soon as it touched the Famine Lord's skin. Muscles and nerves sought out their counterparts within the deep wound, binding and knitting together, becoming one with Slain's flesh until there was nothing to show that Slain had ever been missing a wing.

Vortigern said nothing, but a small, satisfied near-grin crossed his face as he witnessed the final results of the long, complex spellcraft he and his mages had labored on for so long. Physically, at least, Slain should be an ally he could depend upon to help him during the days to come.
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 26 2016, 01:34 PM
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Well, that was one hell of a goddamn feeling.

Slain gasped as the wing suddenly flexed, flaring, as he felt the wing react to his body. Taking an involuntary step forward, he forced himself back and drew it in, as his healing gene sealed the process completely. The half-demon took a moment to recover, trembling slightly, then looked back and extended the new wing, flapping it a little to test its weight and function. It felt strange, alien, after not using the missing limb for so long - but it also felt right. As though it really were his wing, his flesh.

Breathing hard, he shuddered, flexing then folding both wings. Then, Slain smiled. Then, he grinned. His grin grew wider and wider and then he flared both and let out a wild whoop before jumping into the air and landing on his clawed paws. "Holy hell, yes!" he roared. "Fuck yeah! Vort, damn, I dunno what the hell you did but shitrocks this is spectacular!"

In an instant, he was on the balcony, wings open and ready to fly. "I gotta test these out. Haven't flown in ages. Catcha later, bitches!"

And he was gone.

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
Fyfergrund
 Posted: Nov 28 2016, 07:23 PM
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Fyfergrund

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The Old Man of BTACD

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Sure enough, the spell worked like a charm, and in moments, the wing had attached itself to Slain's body, looking like it had always been there. Had he been prone to overt displays of emotion, or at least capable of them, he might've joined Slain's celebrating. As it was, he merely inclined his head as the Famine Lord exulted in his new wing.

Then, as expected, Slain took off, eager to fly again. Once he was gone, Vortigern turned, and gave the Pestilence Mages a dismissive gesture. They bowed, and silently made their way from the room, retrieving the litter and cloth on their way out.

Vortigern himself made his way through the fortress, intent on finding Damien, and checking in on him.
^
Verridith
 Posted: Nov 29 2016, 12:19 AM
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Verridith

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"This way," an older Famine hellwolf called to Vortigern; he was black-pelted with feathered wings, covered in scars and with a missing eye. Silver framed his muzzle and face, and it was obvious he was quite old. "Damien awaits you. He has already been told of your coming. Down this passageway is the infirmary, where he and his lady once worked. He is in the third door, then the second bed within it. Turn left once inside, not right; to the right is the kitchens."

~

Slain flew very fast, very quickly. Weaving through the mountains, he was a sliver of silver, a flash of grey and white, condensation leaving lines in the sky off of his wingtips. He would drop down low enough to jump and push off of a rock or two beneath, then bolt back into the sky, before curving down and back along the Famine border.

Something along that border caught his attention, then. The Lord grinned and pushed off another rock, speeding towards it in a flash of silver and white.

"Oi! That's close enough to my mighty fine border, stop an' say hello, ay?"

ooc;
@Hitsugaya your turn!

--------------------
user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
user posted image
"you do know I have the worst memory in the high desert right"
"that's a lie, you just fill your memory with all things BTACD related"
^
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