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Meetings in the Wastes [Closed]


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Meggido's brow lifted, not appearing very threatened by the Lalafel. "This is a terrible place for any kind of discussion, if I felt like having one. If you would prefer for me not to let anyone who is not already dead leave this confrontation alive, I would implore you to find a peaceful way to end it." That said, the Duskwight turned away from the Lalafel, walking in an unrelated southeast direction toward nothing in particular. He threw the knife in his hand out in front of him, and the long, thin cloth tapestry that extended from its hilt curled into the air behind him as though stirred by a heavy wind.

 

As Thal drove his elbow into K'ile's sternum, the Tia drove his knee into Thal's side. K'ile tried to roll so that Thal would fall off of him as they tumbled into the dirt. K'aijeen landed to one side of them, twisting and kicking her legs and trying to pull away but still bound to the pair by the searing grip on her arm. Weeds around them flickered with small yellow fires as the heat ignited them, the ground beneath them giving way and glistening.

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K'ile's attack jarred Thal to one side, but he tried to take advantage of it, swinging himself even harder to the side than the Tia's blow would have caused. As he did this, he tightened his grip on K'ile and jerked him around with the roll before hurling him over and away, bolstering this action with a solid kick with both feet.

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K'ile hit the dirt a yalm away from Thal and rolled another yalm before stopping, a trail quartz-laden dirt between them. His hand had been wrenched painfully from K'aijeens arm, but he curled his fingers against the sprained wrist and ignored it as he got to his feet, glaring at the undead Miqo'te. "You're already damned. You're not the only person who can warn Ul'dahns about the Amal'jaa, so what are you even fighting for? Why are you protecting her?"

 

As soon as K'ile's grip on her was broken, she pushed herself back up against Thal and wrapped her limbs around him. She his her face against him and choked out pained sobs.

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Thal straightened some, reaching behind him with one hand to rest it on D'aijeen. For the first time, he felt an instinct much stronger than his prior urges to protect her, and he broadened his stance so that he was a physical wall between K'ile and the girl. "She's just a kid. I don't care if you think she's some abomination. Maybe she is, maybe I am, but she's also a kid. You don't treat kids like this."

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"Age does not excuse ones actions. She is a danger and is responsible for not only the death of innocents, but the shattering of a voidgate. She plays with the order of the world. By bringing people back from the dead when their time has expired. There is no acceptable excuse for what she does." Cypress said, standing a few fulms away, her head not quite looking straight at anyone.

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Ulanan huffed in the Duskwight's direction and stomped the ground yet again. "This is the last time I'll let you get away with not explaining anything!" she shouted in his direction. Her immediate next action was to turn to the other group of bickering people and shout to them instead.

 

"Stop fighting! The old man is grumpy, and old, and wants you to stop fighting!" She accentuated, clearly annoyed. She spent the next few moments raising her book in front of her chest, channeling aether into it.

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"Not looking for excuses," Thal snapped. "Just some gods damned underst--" Thal grunted as a sudden K'ile explosion slammed into him. He pushed D'aijeen away with hard but necessary force as he dropped back to the ground. His legs kicked up, knees trying to find K'ile's soft belly.

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K'aijeen shouted when Thal threw her aside, hitting the dirt and scrambling away. A few fulms later, she turned to watch.

 

K'ile struggled with Thal, taking the hit from his knee painfully, which triggered a flash of heat that melted the dirt beneath them and burned the plants around them. K'ile curled himself up to protect himself from further kneeing, just anchoring Thal in place as much as he could.

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Ulanan grumbled loudly, casting yet another spell to intercept the woman's. This one was much weaker, since the lalafell didn't have the time to charge it beforehand.

 

"Listen to me!" she begged, though it was more of a demand. "He was following them! Unbound! With no restrains! Now he wants them dead! Don't you see what it means?"

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"Fine then." Ulanan muttered to herself, wide eyes staring in front of her. Short locks of hair were hanging in front of them, unkept and moved by the hectic movements she had done when angry.

"Very well. Have it your way!" she added, this time shouting loudly. The aether around her snapped suddenly, gathering in her book and the pages held within, shining brightly.

 

"I'm not helping. I'm not helping anyone anymore!" Her shouting continued. Just as quick as it had gathered, the aether released, spreading in front of her in a circle. It took form and gained weight, becoming an orb. Long and thing wings sprouted out of it, along with two sets of legs and arms, thin as a broom's handle.

The lalafell jumped on top of it before it started to float above the sand. She shook her head, eyes set forward and widely open.

 

"I'm. Not. Helping."

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Thal felt a tingling pressure on his back and lurched away. K'ile still gripped him despite being pinned however, and any further action he may have taken was shocked out of him, however, at Ulanan's display. "I wouldn't mind your help!" He called out.

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A flash of sliver cut the air between Cypress' body and Thal's, taking a piece of flesh from the Roegadyn's arm as well. A long cloth followed behind it, glowing with the names of Duskwight long past, and when the knife swerved in midair to arch behind her, the cloth followed it. The cloth snapped tight and pulled across Cypress chest with surprising force, like a strong arm crashing against her. The cloth, already scorching hot, was not burned by Cypress' magic.

 

From his position, K'ile couldn't stop Thal from moving too much, but he kept his hand's on the shirt the man was wearing and kept his legs against Thal's legs to limit mobility. "You think anyone is going to help you?"

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The piece of flesh cut from Cypress's bicep fell and scattered like ashes when parted from her. The long scarf bound her arms to her as it closed around her. Her head moved about as if to locate the source of the immobility, "Ulanan," She shouted, "Cease this at once."

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"I'm not helping. I'm not helping. I'm not heping!" Ulanan's voice started as a whisper, but it quickly turned into another shout. The magical beast she was sitting on growled unnaturally, something forming on its surface, over its thin and pathetic arms. It was not eyes that were forming, or a face. It was a maw, misaligned with the rest of the body, composed of a crooked line that zigzagged making its lips into its teeth.

The lalafell raised both hands and clenched the wings of her hat. She pulled down with all her strenght, until it couldn't go farther down.

 

The construct turned around, giving its back to the fight. Its wings raised and then fell. It fled, the legs grazing cross the sand, forming lines as jagged as the creatures mouth. After a few yalms, it managed to raise above the ground, flying at a very low height. Fleeing, or trying to, with the lalafell on its back.

 

"Not helping."

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