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A Murder of Crows

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Melkire Melkire Find all posts by this user Gruff Gutterborn Murder Hobo Posts:2,470 Joined:Mar 2014 Character:Osric Melkire Server:Balmung Reputation: 505 Timezone:UTC+4 RE: A Murder of Crows | #3 08-27-2014, 07:02 PM (This post was last modified: 08-27-2014, 07:10 PM by Melkire.) Highbridge, Eastern Thanalan. Dark storm clouds covered the sky, shielding the desert below from the harsh rays of the sun, and they threatened to buckle under their own weight, to unleash their torrential downpour. Two figures stood at the southern railing of the bridge, each clad in white and black, and they faced outward, their gazes drifting along the ravine walls. One short, one tall. One Miqo'te, one Elezen. Each with the left half of their face tattooed solid black.  "I think 'amused' would be best," mused the duskwight. He wore nothing but leathers; a wooden bow and quiver were strung across his back. "Proves you're not all boring." "Rutting bitch!" The outburst came from behind them; they turned to face the source of clicks from wooden clogs on stone, only to find a shirtless, grey-haired Hyur approaching them. The left side of this man's face was not tattooed, but the right side was burned, scarred, and from within glared a baleful red eye.  At his side hung a single rusted brass blade from a loop of rope. The keeper met that glare with one of his own, the cool blue eye contrasting against the black tattoo that surrounded it. The chainmail rings of his haubergeon scrunched as he shifted his feet, one hand on the hilt of his sword as it hung in its scabbard, the other holding onto the strap that held his shield to his back. "This one senses you are slightly angered. Why?" His companion laughed. "So very observant." He glanced up at that. "As for you, tall one, boring is not all bad." The midlander scoffed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "...I don't like failure," he finally admitted. The "tall one" smirked. "Ah, the girl escaped then? Pity. Now I have to fight her for her man." "What did you fail...." Ears twitched as his words drifted off. He turned, stiffened. "Her. Stop her. This one will be told after we deal with that woman." Liadan Summerfield, resident of the northern woods and student of Stillglade Fane, was murmuring quietly to her chocobo as they moved across Highbridge. Her mount let out a whistle of alarm, and the woman glanced up with a blink and a frown as the three figures fanned out ahead of her to block her path. “You know, I’m beginning to think that all of my dislike for this Twelve-forsaken desert is deserved.” The keeper in the middle fixed his black eye on her and smirked. “Hello, soul stealer.” She narrowed her eyes at that. “I do not steal souls, corpseman.” “Soul stealer?” The duskwight to her right shuffled in place, clearly agitated. “My, my.” The midlander to her left scowled at her. “ ‘tis not your place to defy Thal’s will. Not the potter but the potter’s clay.” The keeper tilted his head slightly to one side. “Your aether says you have stolen souls, lady. That cannot be gainsaid. Now then, why has Thal brought you to us…?” Liadan grit her teeth, an expression of irritation crossing her features as she glared at the armored figure. “I think you should have your eyes checked. Death may have clouded them.” She placed one hand on her chocobo’s neck, squeezed with her knees as the animal began backing up slowly. “I’m almost certain that Thal didn’t bring me anywhere, least of all to you.” “This one is amused. If you flee, the tall one shall loose arrows into your bird. Lady does not want that, this one assumes. If this one is here, then Thal brought us together.” The duskwight slid up beside the keepr and wrapped one arm around his companion’s shoulders. “Now now, miss. Don’t be rude to my handsome friend here. Behind his impassive visage hides a very sensitive and loving soul.” The keeper blinked up at him. “This one is confused by your odd behavior. It is somewhat rude.” The duskwight pursed his lips. “What’s a little cuddling between good friends?” “This one is not your friend, this one is a fellow Crow.” The midlander shook his head mirthfully as he followed that exchange with a grin. “Atrium is a fanatic, Oubliette. Has a one-track mind, he does.” Oubliette returned the man’s smile. “That he may be, Rotunda, but he’s ever so much fun to play with.” Rotunda eyed the mounted woman. “Mmm. Play with him as you’d like. I’d rather have the lady.” He bowed, one heel out and slightly to the side as he bent forward over an upraised arm. Atrium snorted. “This one clearly needs to make eunuchs of you both.” Oubliette placed a finger over Atrium’s lips. “Hush now, hon. Keep talking like that and you’ll hurt my feelings.” The conjurer slid carefully off her chocobo, murmuring to the animal. She leaned down, scooped up a handful of dust and then clenched it between her fingers as she murmured something melodic under her breath. A shield of earth briefly appeared around the bird, sand shifting into place, and then it shimmered before it disappeared from sight. Oubliette giggled as he glanced over. The black iris of his right eye had vanished behind a sudden plume of smoke… no, no, his entire right eye was smoking… or giving off smoke… “Hehehe, I never get tired of that.” Rotunda was snarling, his own eye smoking as he glared at the woman. Liadan shuddered as she backed up next to her chocobo, who was still whistling in a mixture of aggression and concern. She focused her attention on the midlander and shrugged. “I can’t help it if walking corpses are allergic to conjury.” She placed one hand on her mount’s saddle, then eyed Atrium. “You know… I don’t know why you have an issue with me. Garlemald is apparently experimenting with raising decades-old corpses, but I’m the one you’re complaining about.” The keeper known as Atrium Crow tried to shrug the duskwight’s arm off his shoulders as his own black eye begin emitting that same oily black smoke. His lips peeled back, revealed yellow fangs. “Lady, you seem to be eager for conflict. Dost thou wish to sleep within death now?” A moment passed. “Tall one. Kindly remove thyself from this one’s body.” The duskwight known as Oubliette Crow sniffled. “Fine. But later you’re all mine.” He gave his companion a wink and drew his bow. “What I would really like is for you to get off the road so that I can go home.” Atrium grew still, and when next he spoke it was without what little warmth or care or feeling his voice normally carried. “These Crows do not serve-“ “-at your convenience,” intoned the midlander known as Rotunda Crow. “We serve for Nald’s Tribute, and render-“ “-those whom would defy the natural order unto the true god,” finished Atrium, cold as stone. “And you, lady-“ “-are among them.” “It’s also fun,” chimed in Oubliette with a sadistic grin. “So to make it more fun, how about a riddle?” Rotunda blinked as he shook off his reverie and glanced over at the tall Elezen with a scowl. “Riddles? Really? Really? At a time like this?” “What? Don’t you like to mix business with pleasure?” The Hyur leered at Liadan. “Not my kind of pleasure, riddles. I hunger for… other pursuits.” The woman gave him a disgusted look. “I do not sleep with corpses.” “It’s a good one, my riddle. I promise you’ll like it, old man. Our humorless co-worker may even get a laugh out of it.” “This one is surrounded by complications,” the Miqo’te moaned as he palmed his face. Rotunda threw a shrug Atrium’s way. “Priorities. Orders. If she is for What Awaits, let us deliver.” Oubliette gave the conjurer a little smile. “I have many feathers to help me fly. I have a body and a head, but I’m not alive. It is your strength which determines how far I go. You can hold me in your hand, but I’m never thrown. What am I?” Rotunda laughed as the weather finally broke, as the storm clouds began raining down their issue in earnest. “May I? Oh, please, allow me, I beg of you.” That little smile grew wider. “Now now, give her a chance. She even wins a prize if she gets it right.” The midlander smirked. “And what a prize it shall be.” She swept her gaze over all three of them as she reached for the wand at her side. “Yes, I get it. You’re going to shoot me with an arrow. I’m beginning to think the lot of you are madmen. I cannot take a soul once it’s past the gates. No one sane would even try. You are mistaken as to what I have done and I have not done.” Rotunda stared. “You have the taint, lady, so take your prize-“ “-it is time to suffer for your lies.” Atrium cocked his head. “Are you ready to meet Thal?” Oubliette frowned. “Such a spoil-sport. How dull. Oh well, you guessed right. I’ll leave your prize with your bird.” He drew back an arrow, black flames blazing to life around it, and let loose at the chocobo, just as Rotunda drew his blade, grinned like a savage as he licked its edge, and darted forward… “NO!” Liadan made a quick slashing motion with her wand as she cried; as it passed through the air, earth rose up from the bridge itself, forming rapidly into a simple wall of earth between where she stood and they stood. As it did, she turned, caught hold of her chocobo’s reins, and pulled his head down. The arrow glanced off the top of the earthen wall as it rose, and was deflected away, its blazing arrowhead sailing over the chocobo’s tail and off into the distance, resulting in little more than a loud, surprised squawk and the faint smell of burning feathers. Atrium smirked as he casually strolled through the falling rain to look over the side of the bridge. “Keep the body intact, the Voice might be able to use it.” Rotunda spun his sword by the hilt as he came, the brass blade trailing wisps of onyx fire. He sidestepped around the fortification, and swung a backhanded blow, left to right, at Liadan’s back. The woman was far too focused on her beloved companion… but her chocobo was far better trained than she; it bugled a challenged and knocked her over as the sword passed through the air. She took a nasty gash across her stomach as she fell onto her back, clutching at her side as her enraged mount snapped at Rotunda, driving him slowly back and away from the fallen woman. Oubliette frowned Atrium “Oh? Is our humorless friend afraid of a little scuffle?” “This one is simply observing you two.” Rotunda snarled again as he afforded the bird the proper respect. Recent events compelled him, his memory of being ravaged by the local wildlife still fresh on his mind. “Sooo… let me get this straight. You have a problem with this lady, and want us to deal with her even though we don’t have orders from the Voice? While you do nothing.” “She has potential,” the midlander snapped back, his eyes still on the chocobo. “Is that not enough? Must we suffer abominations?” “Now now, old man. I’m not saying we shouldn’t deal with her, but if our companion wants to sit out, we should at least get something out of him for it.” Rotunda blinked. “…he’s right. Tribute for service rendered, Atrium. As Decreed.” “After all, our lord is also lord of trade and merchants. And services rendered require payment.” Oubliette looked expectantly towards the keeper. “Does this one need to have the Voice speak Thal’s teachings in thy ear, tall one?” Atrium growled at the duskwight. “Thou shall not suffer the theft of souls, for theft destroys commerce and breaks down trade.” “Ah, but those who bring thieves to justice are rewarded.” “And so shall we be rewarded for punishing this thief.” The chocobo held his position between his master and the man-who-did-not-smell right, and stamped his feet in warning. Liadan rolled onto her side, gritting her teeth against the pain, the hand pressed to her wound now red with blood. Rotunda eyed the woman, then pivoted slightly on his feet to better address his compatriots, eyes back on the steed. “She is for What Awaits, Oubliette. Atrium, make good on your servi-" Liadan slammed her wand against the paved stones and shouted, “BEGONE,” conjuring a wall of wind that slammed into Rotunda and threw him back against the railing; there was an audible crunch as his neck snapped, his head hanging off to the left at a grotesque angle… The conjurer flinched. Atrium blinked. “How amusing.” Oubliette drew another arrow with casual aplomb and fired, just as the Hyur’s body pushed itself off the railing with one hand. The woman’s chocobo – the one she had named Courageous, so long ago – let out a startled whistle and rocked to one side as the arrow embedded itself in the chink in his barding between neck and saddle. Rotunda reached up as he stalked forward and, with a sudden roll of his shoulders and a tug of his free hand, snapped his head back into place. He growled. “Your beast shall be dismissed, and you shall soon follow.” Courageous lashed out with one foot, razor-sharp talons gleaming in the gloom. Rotunda took a single step back, then began circling around to the back…. “Old man,” Oubliette called. “Attack the bird with me. If she shields both strikes at the same time, it will leave her vulnerable to your follow-up.” That was the turning point. That was when Liadan Summerfield, student of Stillglade Fane, finally lost her temper. She forced herself to her knees, then to her feet; she held onto her chocobo’s barding for balance, and pointed her free hand to the sky, chanting rapid staccato. “Spirits of the sky and water, HEAR ME! Turn your ears to the plea of one who Hears you!” Rotunda scowled as he grasped his blade’s hilt with both hands. The onyx fire surged with new life, smoked in the torrential downpour. “Raise a storm to drive these fouls ones from your land! To cleanse this place of their death and desecration!” In the distance, Oubliette drew another arrow and nocked it. “Do this, and I will owe you a great boon!” Each word had been infused with the full power of her master of conjury; the green glow slid from her wand down her arm to engulf her entire body. No sooner had it done so than the arrow flew, than Rotunda stepped forward with a roar and delivered a wicked uppercut intended to sever and lop off that infuriating beast’s neck… only for both to be met by the fury of the storm. Rotunda threw his arms up to shield his face, his swing aborted as a sudden vortex of wind swirled around the lady and her steed; Oubliette’s arrow flew off, diverted, and the vortex expanded, a vicious gale of wind slamming into the midlander. This time, he was thrown upward, slammed into the pillar behind him, and bounced off at an angle, fell, fell, fell, into the ravine. The duskwight was thrown onto his back by same blast of air, was sent tumbling backward a great ways along and eventually off the other side of the bridge. Liadan threw her arms around Courageous’ neck, hugged the beast close for a moment, a glimmer of green slipping from her to his wound. Though she could not heal it with the arrow still embedded in his side, she eased his pain. She grabbed his reins and started walking slowly across Highbridge, pushing out the circular wall of wind and water as she went, she and her chocobo centered at the calm eye of the storm where all was still and not a drop of rain fell. The keeper tumbled back and slammed into the railing before the vortex as she came and it came with her. Pinned there, ge grunted, brushed himself off casually and looked to the river below. “That Crow needed to cool off anyroad.” He looked at the female and blinked thoughtfully. “This one finds you a rather consistent threat. This one is sure we shall see each other again soon, lady.” Liadan Summerfield glared at him through the wall of wind and water, his words to her lost to the roar of the vortex. She reached out and deliberately pushed the wall at Atrium. “Go back to the black pit that spawned you. Trouble these lands no more, corpsewalker.” Atrium Crow grinned as he leaned forward, rushed forward, turned into a cloud of black smoke. The cloud defied the wind, surged against it, momentarily wrapping around the wall of wind, a vile laugh filling the air. “Death shall find you, and you cannot stop us.” The cloud then dispersed, the laughter fading away. The conjurer’s hand tightened on her chocobo’s reins as she shook her head and tugged Courageous along, the winds dying around her, her stride considerably shortened by the gash in her side. “Twelve above, I hate this cursed land.”

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A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 08-13-2014, 12:51 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 08-13-2014, 01:24 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Melkire - 08-27-2014, 07:02 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Melkire - 09-09-2014, 09:36 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-16-2014, 01:10 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-17-2014, 01:25 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-18-2014, 11:05 AM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-19-2014, 12:43 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Melkire - 09-19-2014, 01:59 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Ragnar - 09-19-2014, 06:55 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-20-2014, 01:17 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-22-2014, 06:10 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-25-2014, 09:55 AM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 09-27-2014, 02:22 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Melkire - 09-27-2014, 08:12 PM RE: A Murder of Crows - by Askier - 10-03-2014, 11:57 AM

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