|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 23, 2016 10:41:59 GMT -6
It wasn't right. The lich had been slain, the phylactery destroyed, but she had no idea why she couldn't move. There was a feeble reaching for a chunk of something, a staff, lodged in her breast. Her hands were too slick, she couldn't grip it. It was over. For what seemed like an eternity, she drank in the burning visage of Caer Carreg, her home, and the sky. Then the black consumed her.
She had what people called an out of body experience. She'd halted... something, but had no real idea what. It was a small victory, but she'd take it.
And just before her soul was sent screaming to the pit between stars, she had been rescued.
"This won't do." A female voice murmured. Eleanore was now looking at the inside of a mask, she was hooded. She gained a semblance of control over her form, her flesh being of melting voidstuff before taking on the appearance of mithral and wood. There was a woman before her wearing a black mask with four eyeholes arranged in a square, pointed blue ears and white hair that went down to her ankles, puffed sleeves, a breastplate made of what looked like polished onyx, gauntlets, tights, greaves and a cloak of black feathers. "Welcome to high contempt, Lady Mephassel." She said calmly, an aperture opening up at her saviour's side. "Don't look at me like that. It's the actual name of the place. Probably."
Looking around, the place was surrounded by stars, the platform they were on spiraled outwards in all directions with a disturbing symmetry paradoxical of the cyclopean architecture with a distinct lack of ambient noise. The floors had a look of scrimshawed bone carved in complex patterns that were somehow arranged cyclically and outward. Woe to the artisans who did it--woe to this realm's queen. There was a chuckle from the woman as drew her hood, her hair flowing like mercury upwards and inwards, disappearing into it.
"You must have no end of questions, dear Eleanore." The woman told her. "Like where you are, who you are... and most importantly..." She trailed off, turning her mask on Eleanore.
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 23, 2016 11:31:21 GMT -6
Eleanore was confused, to say the least. She felt as if she had woken from a nightmare into a strange hallucination.
"Is this real?" she murmured, not particularly directed at the woman in front of her, and then more directly "Where is this, high contempt? How did I get here?"
She was surprised at herself, at her own calmness. She remembered a battle, fire and death. A monster, a horrible visage of undeath, slaughtering everyone before it. A Lich, that's what her father had called it, a creature of dark epics and ancient nightmares.
Eleanore recalled explosions of eldritch force, beams of darkness that pierced all armor and caused men to wither and die in front of her. She saw her father's guards die, and then rise again and attack their friends.
But she felt nothing. It must be the shock.
She remembered how her mother charged the terrible thing, only to be turned to stone with a single touch and then shattered with a sweep of its hand. She had cried, but she had not ran away. Eleanore had seen her father burnt to ashes as he frantically tried to unblock the rubble-filled gate, her brothers ripped in half by invisible forces, disintegrated or aged into oblivion.
No tears came now.
She had grabbed a sword, the scimitar she used for her dance just minutes ago. With lungs burning from the smoke, she charged the Lich, but it was too fast...
Something pierced her heart, a staff...
If the woman had been speaking, Eleanore had not heard her. Abruptly, though in a calm voice, she asked "Am I dead?"
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 23, 2016 21:44:47 GMT -6
"It's all real." The blue woman replied simply, folding her arms. "This 'high contempt' is here, and you are within it because I have allowed it." There was a sudden movement, a chime, a twitch and a light appeared. The blue woman tore the light from the air, crushed it in her hand and without warning placed it to Jejune's heart.
At her last question, she chortled. "If you are, that would make this the afterlife. Which would make me god." She snorted. "While I find the notion hilarious, no." The woman paused. "I have given you the gift of life. The gift of immortality. To elaborate... you were dead, but now no longer, 'Red.'" She turns on a heel. "The truth is, there is no happy ending here. See, you died and you're not supposed to be dead. Someone died and they weren't supposed to, they weren't there to wipe out the Vollimari Vanguard. You killed the lich--with some intervention on our part, mind you not on a level you may typically associate with 'divine intervention'--the ensuing explosion butchers everything in a seventeen kilometer radius and the land's been turned into a spellblight. I mean, holy shit you actually did it, but that came at a cost." She actually seemed impressed.
"At any rate, here's the gist of it. You died. That's sad. I'm sad. The explosion? Spellblight. If I bring you back there, you'll die again. Which isn't any less tragic. I can get to your body eventually but I'll need time until it's dispersed enough for my agents to deal with it. In the meantime, you'll need time to adapt to the temporary body, once you're ready to return to the mortal plane, let me know and I'll put you back. If you want to ever return here, just throw a letter into the sea. Get all of that?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 23, 2016 23:22:41 GMT -6
It didn't take nearly as long for Eleanore to accept the blue woman's words as she would have imagined. She didn't know it yet, but this body thought much faster than her old one.
"I killed it... Yes, I remember now." she remarked, still surprising herself with her calmness. "It was too fast for me, but too fast for itself also. It impaled me on its staff, but I slid down it, close enough to slash at the phylactery; it was in the legend, that you have to destroy that to kill a lich, but in the legend it was protected too much for normal blades. Was that your help?"
As she spoke, she raised a hand up to her face, saw that it was gloved, and felt up the mask she had found herself wearing. "This... Isn't my face..." she muttered, though it was somewhat obvious. As she noted that, she realized something else. "My voice... My body is different. Temporary, you said? It feels... strange."
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 24, 2016 0:00:48 GMT -6
"You made the strike, I simply... switched the blade at impact. I lent you something for an instant that could ply through the cosmos. Then switched them back. But that is all I've done. What you've done, Red... Your mark, your body... everything needed to be changed to distance you from that incident, so when the Vollimari return, you are not attacked while you're still weak. So I forged an immortal body for you as repayment for averting a genocide." The woman said in a rather calm tone, an inky aperture appearing before her. She plucked an ashen, bloody, broken scimitar and ran her fingers over where the blade should have been, and in a manner not unlike her own taking of shape, she brought it life. "This is yours. Your truest companion, ever ready. They are restored, what I could not fit in you, is within it." The blue woman said. "Your new body is lacking in form but functionally superior in every way to a tomb of flesh. You may use this until your body is ready or if you grow attached, as long as you'd like." Her tone never changed. "However, be warned that there is something beyond my gate that I have been taking steps to subvert. You unwittingly helped my cause. Should you choose to use your new powers in a manner that helps hold them outside... The woman motions towards the 'sky' of the place, it's simply a screaming vortex of pitch. "Well... I will remember that you have shown benevolence." A promise of favor went unsaid, but the woman was quite clear as she motioned to Eleanor's 'new' scimitar. "As an incentive, I give you a boon of two names: I call you Jejune, as it reflects what remains of you, and I have hidden your true name within my own. Woe to the fools who seek it out."
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 24, 2016 12:44:19 GMT -6
Jejune listened intently now, even as she strove to notice all the differences her new body had from her own.
Mind - The mind was hers, as far as she could tell. She recognized herself, and that was enough, she thought and so she was.
Body - The body was completely different, but it seemed to fit. It felt strange, hard woods and metal instead of bone, flesh and sinew. It wouldn't flex, it was not soft. Killing the lich, and seeing her family die to it, had ended her soft days.
Spirit... Jejune's mind clicked, the implications of the woman's words and her own serene feelings coming to light in her newly boosted intelligence. As she removed her mask, and felt the face that was foreign in both material and shape, she spoke "I feel powerful, but diminished. This body is strong, but my spirit is strange to me." she put a hand on her own forehead, feeling the cold metal clink together. "I am sad, but I can't mourn. I should feel worse, I think, about this loss. Is this part of the transformation, or an effect of my near death?" The tone was not accusatory, or mad in even the slightest way she was now capable of feeling. Perhaps those feelings will come later, at whatever strength they could, but now Jejune was asking for information. Her world was gone, her name and body taken for safekeeping. She had to make sense of what she had.
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 25, 2016 0:40:46 GMT -6
"Yes." The woman said simply. "Your spirit crackles within the weave, your plating is an incubator for greatness. Coursing within you is the true name of magic etched on your soul, your muscle was grown from the tree of life, and your blood is the honey of the bees which the Dreamer sent out to bring knowledge to mortals. Your plating's... your plating's just mithral. Pure stuff. Very expensive. The thing you lack is tears, and those I will weep for you." The woman's voice stood even, despite her words.
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 25, 2016 7:38:14 GMT -6
"I must thank you, then." Jejune responded just as evenly. "For sparing my life, and allowing me to avenge my friends and family."
She didn't quite understand what the woman had said, but assumed it was allegory for metaphysical processes beyond her comprehension.
"I am stronger now, I can feel it." she remarked. "This body, muscles of wood and skin of mithril, much stronger than my old. I feel energy, power in my... 'veins', and I know how to use it..." As she spoke sparks danced around the fingers of her hand as she watched it.
"But what do I do now? How do I go on?" Jejune asked. "My old life is gone, just as my old body is. I do not know how to restart, where to go or what to do..."
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 26, 2016 11:24:04 GMT -6
"Find something worthy of your time in the interim." The woman replied bluntly. "Or don't. Do something unworthy." She shrugs. "Wander." She steps aside, and an aperture opens up. "Do so before destiny snatches you up yet again. It has this tendency to make use of its playthings and ignore the screams. And remember, the statement about the sea was not a metaphor. Despite the insane nightmarish logic of it..." She idly reaches down and picks up something that is more than shadows but less than starstuff and flings it. It disappeared into the distance, but there was a ripple throughout the world as it occurred. "I find that it's the most reliable means of getting messages out of this place. If you will excuse me, there's a 'chosen one' due to be born from the Vollimari and I need to ensure it is not some bizarre stillborn godling that spontaneously arises as an undead."
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 26, 2016 14:03:01 GMT -6
Jejune nodded. If this was a deity, and indeed the woman's powers over life and form seemed as such, then a simple act like throwing a message into the sea would make sense as a means of communication.
"I will not overstay your welcome." she stated. "I will go and seek out my destiny before it seeks me."
As Jejune started walking towards the aperture, she thought about what she should do once she returns to the physical world. Much would depend on where she emerged, and she disliked the thought of emerging next to her own corpse... Though it made sense if the woman wanted to hide the connection that she would drop her off far away... wait...
Jejune stopped just short of the exit, turned her sculpted head back and remarked "I forgot to ask, what should I call you?"
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 26, 2016 23:37:18 GMT -6
"For now, you should call me..." She pauses. "I suppose my proper title will suffice. I am the Shadow Architect. I command the weave yours call time, and when the time comes to pull the thread that ends the planet, I do that as well." As though demonstrating the point, she drew forth a single strand of light from Jejune, and interlaced it with another glowing thread. "There. I have taken steps to ensure that when the time comes to face your fate, you will not do so alone." The architect paused, her voice full of lament as she looked around, casting out her first guest in untold amounts of time. "Would that they stopped me before I drank... It's a lonely fate, to live forever. You should try to avoid it if at all possible."
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 27, 2016 1:05:07 GMT -6
"Then I thank you, Shadow Architect." Jejune stated. "And I will consider your advice, if the opportunity ever arises."
She turned back to the aperture. So she wasn't going to be alone, though that did not mean she won't be lonely. Then again, maybe her new emotional stunt would take care of that.
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 28, 2016 10:02:44 GMT -6
As she stepped through the aperture, Jejune saw flashes and visions. One of a vaguely familiar face on the back of a wyvern with wicked red eyes, the fell beast's rider brandishing a sword of pitch and flying through a fort. It was Cherche. Each blow was savage, with her fell wyvern riding her into the attacks facilitating her ferocity. There was a flash of something, and she lost sight of Cherche, the beating wings of another beast obscuring her view. Then a blast, the savage wyvern Cherche was riding was disintegrated, alongside one of Cherche's arm. A knight too old to be Calli's retainer, maybe in his fifties, bloodied and beaten helped her to her feet. "There are too many. Avalon is lost to us... this battle is lost to us... But there will be others." He says as a void dragon touches down behind him. "RUN!" He shouts at Cherche, who scrambles to get away. A spell flies at the older knight, and then she finally spots Calli's retainer. Former... retainer... former in the sense that she sees him and catches his face as he's burnt to cinders. Then she sees the other royals get near him, and something so large, something so terrible emerges from a rift that her mind fails to make sense of it.
She emerged in realspace in a burnt out husk of Caer Carreg, her body not lying far from her. She could not recall that vision, all she could remember was what it wasn't. Good. Castle Mephassel would not be servicable in any forseeable amount of time, but while the spellblight wouldn't touch this body, the fires which would, were mercifully gone. The spellblight left a blessing upon her, looters would not survive being in here, so anything she wished to take to remember may yet be here.
|
|
|
|
Post by Zrooper on Apr 28, 2016 13:38:48 GMT -6
As she stood up in the desolate ruin that was once her home, Jejune was momentarily stunned by the vision she had experienced. As the shock passed, so too did most memory of the vision, leaving only the impression that it was quite dire to say the least.
Spotting her own corpse was as easy as she'd dreaded, after all there was only one corpse impaled on a long staff. The body was burnt by the fires, and warped by the spellblight beyond recognition, but Jejune remembered her last breath in that spot. The staff was charred, but seemed undamaged by the fire and spellblight. Despite its probable magical nature, Jejune elected to leave it where it was, as a headstone to her former life.
It made her uneasy, but to Jejune's dampened emotional capacity the experience was substantially less traumatic than she had thought it would be.
Staying was unwise, Jejune thought. It was best to disassociate herself from her past and this incident as quickly as possible. There were no witnesses around, but the more time goes on the higher the likelihood of the kingdom setting up a watch or organizing protected expeditions into the disaster zone. Still, she decided to look for provisions and gear. After all, she did not know yet if this body requires food or any other care that her old one did. The storerooms seemed relatively intact, apart from the doors being burnt to ashes, so she made her way inside. She immediately came across the corpses of several dozen servants and guards that had taken shelter there, only to be killed by the spellblight. For a moment, Jejune thought that if she had not killed the lich they might have survived, but then decided it would have probably hunted down all living people in the area soon after.
Luckily, the food was intact. It was probably tainted by the spellblight as well, but since the Shadow Architect had told her this body was immune to it she elected to risk it. She found a travel pack already prepared, likely the belongings of some poor soul who had been planning on taking a vacation. She took it, and the weaponry of one of the dead guards which consisted of a longbow, a quiver of arrows, and a dagger.
She had everything she needed... But needed one more thing. She made her way across the desecrated castle, climbing to her chambers. The room was ripped apart, evidence of an undead rampage, so it took her a couple of minutes to locate what she was looking for: a set of sculpting tools, once beautifully wrapped in pristine leather, now adorned in a charred hide. It was a family heirloom, one of several sets given to each child of the family to signify their more humble roots. There was also a locket adorned with a gemstone, the picture obliterated by flames but the metal and stone still in one piece. She wiped away the ashes, and took it with her.
With these tools, she made her way to the only one of her family members that was still recognizable and preserved; the shattered visage of her petrified mother. The face was gone, obliterated by the lich's backhanded strike, but much of the torso was intact. Jejune hesitated slightly, contemplating whether what she was about to do was a good thing or foul, but in the end decided that such a label didn't matter: she wanted this link with her.
Taking a pick and hammer from her toolset, Jejune set to work chipping away at her mother's remains. She broke a short way into the torso, and then pried out a stone roughly the same size as the gem in her locket - a fragment of her mother's heart. She removed the gem with the pick, and with the practiced skill of a bred stonemason smoothed the heartstone into a similar shape, setting into the locket instead.
"I leave behind my life and body that you gave me." Jejune whispered. "But you will never be forgotten. I will take your heart with me, to remind me for as long as I must carry this burden."
The gesture pleased Jejune somewhat, as she regarded it as evidence that the emotional gimp did not rid her of her soul and values. Logically, carving out her own mother's heart might have been a cruel act, but Jejune didn't think anything could desecrate these bodies any further than the lich already had.
And with this small memento, she donned the mask and went on her way. She chose a particular road, one that lead towards Avalon eventually, since that was the one she was most familiar with. Where to go, however, she was not sure yet.
|
|
|
|
Post by @IsNotABomb on Apr 29, 2016 9:46:52 GMT -6
Bones cracked as Jejune did her work. Some small part of her was probably going to be mortified by this at a later time, but not now. Once finished with her grim memento, there was a semblance of weight taken off of her shoulders. Once at a vantage point, she drank in the spellblighted area, clouds of green and blue and purple, in fact more of a mist that bore an appearance of being ignited in hues that made no sense in this realm or any other before turning. West. She headed west along the rock face and bringing herself towards a beaten mountain path. Off in the distance, she could see the sea towards her left which she used as a guideline. Teyrnsgarde was in this direction, which was a perfect waypoint as it provided a direct route to Avalon. No doubt Elric would want to know that one of the Caers was annihilated by a hostile incursion.
|
|
