[Scalvoris Mountains] Nothing lasts forever

[Ent]

The beast went still as the stone was crushed by Pash its body thudding flat against the floor as the fire was now allowed to spread all around its body, fur igniting easily. The smell of burning flesh would fill the air as the creature burned in the snow and the swords continued to clash and Faith climbed her way down. Pash and Kali were safe and out of the way but the burning beast did block them from the Necromancer and Padraig so to act they would have to move from the safety of their rock.

Faith's climb was slow and dangerous, she would find herself slipping multiple times and struggling to keep a good grip on the frozen rocks. The wind was also an issue, tugging at her clothes and threatening to pull her petite body away from the cliff face. Still Faith was determined if anything and her progress was noticeable as inch after inch of the rocky side she clung too slowly passed her by.

Meanwhile the fight raged on as Padraig tried to taunt the crazed necromancer, trying to insult him and damage his ego but the thing about his multiple personalities and his current levels of stress was the changing and the fact his ego could go from huge to none existent in less than a trill. This was the case now as he was stung by the insult but his calm was not ruined and he did not lash out thoughtlessly. Instead he kept trying to hold off the scientists blows that pressed on him.

Strikes continued to land on Alexander as he moved back, his awareness completely on the blade before him. This was so much so that he did not even notice where he was going as he stepped back into the burning mess. His clothes quickly caught fire as he hissed with pain and rage, unable to back up any further he was unable to keep his focus and block the many blows that came as one finally removed the hand that held the crimson blade.

Faith would reach the ground now and would be only a short distance away as Padraig forced Alexander into the fire and as he did chopped off the sword hand. She would be able to join her lover now as he had won the fight now but not before there came one last blow from the now rage filled necromancer.

He still had one hand left, a burning hand that had caught up from the beast and so pushing the sword of the scientist aside he forced the flaming limb against Padraig's chest. The heat making it quick to burn the flesh hidden below the scientists attire. "Don't forget me!" The inhuman beast yelled as he fell back into his burning creation and disappeared into the flames with a wicked and truly insane laugh leaving everyone there with something to remember him by.

[Faith Augustin]

Her hands slipped, then slipped again. Faith had to fight to keep a grip of herself against the mountain, the wind was whipping around her and more than once she let out a cry of terror as she was more or less sure that she was going to fall. Her hands were getting cut all over as she clambered down the mountainside at a painfully slow rate. She could feel what Padraig was feeling, the cold focus that he was forcing himself to feel, the undertone of terror and concern. Faith hated, truly hated that he felt this way, that her vulnerability had made that happen.But yet, she recognised the simple truth; it was love which made her a vulnerability to him just as much as it was how she felt which made his suffering, hers. For all that she hated this, despite the dread and terror which wrapped around her, Faith also knew that she would change nothing about them. Terror from her, cold fury from him, both of them controlling what they felt as much as they possibly could - but for all that it made the experience more difficult, it also made them stronger.

She had to focus. If she did not focus then they both would suffer for it and so, she focused the best way that she could. As her feet touched the ground, Faith let out a low groaning noise; in that noise there were a hundred emotions, a thousand fears, but she was there, on the ground. As soon as her feet touched the firmness of the snow-covered landscape, Faith's thoughts were completely and utterly on Padraig.

She saw what was happening and Faith ignored the blood which covered her hands from the climb, ignored the pain of the cuts as she took a half-trill to take stock. Padraig had beaten Alexander; he had lopped off the necromancer's arm and then, there as burning chaos wrapped around them, as flamed licked up to the sky from the death of the beast which had attacked Pash and Kali, Faith saw only that Padraig had forced Alexander into the flames. He had won and a soaring relief surged through her, physically taking her breath away from her.

As Alexander swung his arm, as he connected his burning hand against her lover's chest, Faith tried desperately to move. She saw it happening, saw what was about to occur and yet, no matter how fast she tried to run, to move to him, she knew she wouldn't get there in time. Even though it seemed to her that Alexander was moving so slowly that it was as though he was moving in treacle. The cry she let out was a howl of pure frustration as she tried to get to him but instead she saw the necromancer's hand impact against Padraig.

Faith did not think, did not care for where she was, she ran to Padraig and flung herself at him. "I'm so sorry. He hurt you, I'm so sorry." There was no concern for herself or what she had been through in the last two trials. If she'd thought about it, Faith might have tried to hide the bruises on her face or the swollen and split lip which she knew would upset him, but she couldn't think about it.

Because in that moment, she could do nothing except run to him and fling herself into his arms. Sobs of relief, frustration and fear for him and her wracked her but Faith knew that she couldn't afford to lose herself in the moment, for all that wanted to. "I have to help. I have to.. ?" her hands moved, rummaging in his bag, grabbing the first aid kit and looking between the three of them. Whichever one of them needed the medical care first, that would be where she went. Faith would push all the emotion out of herself and focus on the job. The job of covering Padraig's burn with cool green snow in a small bag, keeping it cool and cooling it down until she could focus on it. Her discipline would mean that she concentrated on stitching Pash and covering his wound with the raft, checking Kali'rial and making sure that she was lucid. Then, she'd go back to Padraig's burn, forcing herself to focus on what she needed to do. Cleaning it, clearing it of any infection and treating it to minimise the risk of infection or scarring. She did the only thing that she could do, she went into auto pilot and moved, treating them each one.

All she could do was to keep going, no matter what she felt or thought, no matter how much she wanted to give in to her own needs and wishes. As soon as she knew that everyone was treated, taken care of and cared for, and when she was sure that she had destroyed any remnants of necromancy such as the well for the creature and anything else like it, Faith turned to Padraig and more or less collapsed in his arms. She looked at him with an expression which told of what she felt, though she couldn't give it words. "I was.. He kept me in cells. There are guards. We have to go back there you and I, make it safe for others." Faith was looking at Padraig, her gaze earnest. "Get Pash and Kali home, but we need to deal with it. They are undead."

[Pash Raj'oriq]

“Stupid, aye, but m’haps we’re winnin’ now. Or somethin.'”

Not that anything felt like winning anymore. Surviving.

Pash didn’t have a witty riposte to Kali’rial’s frustrated accusation, aware that what he’d somehow managed to accomplish had been more stupid than brave, but it had worked. He heard and felt the undead snowbeast fall, but he didn’t see it, the seafaring minstrel cold and exhausted and eager to be held for a moment, a trill or two to close his eyes and collect whatever was left of his senses, which were few.

Was she alright, he'd ask her, even if his own status was as obvious as the silver that stained even his outermost layer of thick winter clothes.

The smell of burning undeath was horrible. Ignoring petrified monster gore and his own silver mess, the tall Biqaj wrapped his arms around his lover anyway, eager for her body warmth even as he craned his head to watch the fallen minion ignite into roaring flames. He realized for a moment that he only saw Padraig, the other man and the Necromancer locked in furious swordplay, and while he was vaguely aware of how little use he was quickly becoming, he grew concerned when he couldn’t see Faith. He was nudging the dark-haired Sev’ryn, beginning to shift to search for her when he caught a glimpse of her bloodied self scrambling down the cliffside. Confused, he felt trapped as a spectator behind a wall of flame and weakness, groaning as if he thought to get up—

There was nothing to do once a one-armed Alexander was backed into the flames, the screeching, twisted undead finished by fire. His final lunge elicited a shout of concern, Pash afraid the madman would drag Padraig with him against the burning beast, but he didn’t.

It was a numb and messy aftermath, the repercussions of which clearly no one had an interest in filtering through on some rocky, frozen mountainside. It wasn’t a bonfire that kept them warm while wounds were assessed and treated, and words were kept to the necessary few. The seafaring minstrel would have otherwise objected to any priority over Kali’rial or even Faith’s injuries, but he didn’t. Compliant, grim, and worried, he chose not to comment on the knowledge that there was perhaps more to be done, though it seemed to him as though taking care of such things would have been a task for the Elements and not his friends alone, if for Faith at all. And certainly not to-trial. No one was in any condition to be storming a fortress, even if its leader had clearly been disposed.

Chances are, however, that any of his minions who were his creations were destroyed with him, for with his final death, his spark ended with him.

Did anyone besides Faith know who this Alexander even was? The seafaring minstrel wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, other than some answer he clearly died without. Twice. The first time had obviously brought him into unlife and left him hungry, this second time he’d died starved and in flames. Fitting. Undeath was gross.

He did not entirely admire Faith’s discipline, though perhaps envy would have been a more applicable emotion. Unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with, surely, and yet the Empath knew without Seeing that there was an entire other life under the surface, threads of unseen things knotted away that would have to be untangled later and certainly not by himself. It was easier to heal the body with stitches and salve, with bandages and time, than it was to heal the invisible self, and while everyone would return home wounded, the damage wasn’t at all equal.

Pash, of course, would offer his boat to return home in, aware that the enormowl had to be returned but also aware that the half a trial of sailing was safer, easier, and allowed for a bit of rest for everyone who wasn’t sailing. Depending on her condition, at least the Biqaj could trade duties with the Sev’ryn and everyone could have a moment or two. The real struggle would be getting back down the mountain, would be getting his sloop back out to sea, but after that, well, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Whatever he was capable of, the seafaring minstrel would do to get them all home and in one piece.

Off Topic

Figured there wasn’t much to do, and more so, Pash wasn’t capable of doing much. Sailing. He’ll do that.

[Kali'rial]

Kali’rial sighed with relief as the beast fell simply down, not onto her and Pash, not onto Padraig but down. Finally, a stroke of luck. Turning back around as not to look at the burning corpse anymore, the Sev’ryn closed her eyes with relief and pressed her head back against the cold rocks. Immortals she needed a minute. The murmur of the ever mouthy Biqaj in her lap made the huntress chuckle, and she returned his hug with a sigh.

”Something like that.” After assuring him she was alright, the southerner opened her eyes and forced herself to look again, this time for Padraig and Faith. It was then she saw the last blow Alexander would ever make.

”Damn it all!” She growled, making to stand but finding that her body didn’t want to co-operate. Battered, bruised, possibly concussed from the bumps she’d taken to the head at least twice now, the Sev’ryn’s whole being simply said ‘nope’. Fortunately she could see Faith from here, running to her Padraig’s arms. That was enough for her, enough to know that they were alive. Hurt, weary, but alive.

Eventually though, Kali would move, helping Pash to get out from behind the rocks and closer to their friends. She could see Faith was a mess, herself injured and something haunted in her features, and after the woman had treated the Biqaj she put a hand on her wrist as she moved to herself.

”I’m okay Faith. You need to stop. You need to rest. We’re here to take you home.” Her voice was soft, concerned as her periwinkle gaze flicked over to meet Padraig’s with a frown. The man knew Faith better than anyone, and so he would be the right one to decide what to do next. It was, unfortunately, probably not a trip for the Sev’ryn and the Biqaj. Pash had lost a great deal of blood - it shimmered strangely beautiful on her clothing - and she herself was not in a great state. Shivering, the huntress looked for her cloak and remaining arrows, pulling the thick yak fur around her small frame.

”Fool Biqaj.” The brunette muttered again as she returned to the man and kissed him soundly, hands on his cheeks and eyes welling a little.

”I thought for a moment there that...” She shook her head, not able to bring the frighting words into life. Instead she simply smiled and kissed him again, moving to help support the tall bard on their next steps. Whether it be back down the mountain to help sail The Muse, or further up the mountain.

[Padraig]

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Over the course of the skirmish, in spite of the fact that by rights, some of his blows ought to have been killing ones, Padraig had got as good as he'd given. His nemisis wasn't going to go easy, if he went at all. It might have been demoralizing to other men who had less at stake on that mountainside. But for the scholar, it was more than his own life in danger. That paled in comparison to Faith's welfare. So instead of faltering, he'd only redoubled his efforts.

He'd been focused on simply driving the man backwards until he might cause him to trip over his own feet, stumble, finding himself toppling into a ravine, any or all would have been acceptable. The flames though were a sudden stroke of luck. At least for him and spying them, he pushed harder, having to rely on faith that his beloved would get safely to the ground. He could sense her, what was going through her mind, but he couldn't allow it to distract him.

Success came with a price. A physical one, and impossibly the severed arm spun towards him and a burning palm planted itself in the center of his chest. He'd wonder later, how the thing managed to burn through leather armor, a thick leather coat and layers of winter clothing, straight through to bared flesh. As a scholar he might consider that later. In the meantime, he howled and cursed through clenched teeth as he stumbled backwards in response to the pain. But still in that instant he resolved to fight his way back, up off his knees. Until he looked and realized that the aggressor was gone. Only then, he collapsed in the snow on his backside, breathing labored from the exertion.

When Faith reached him, he reached back and placed an arm over hers, and shook his head. It wasn't her. Not her, any of it. "Not you," he said. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Once she'd helped all of them, because of course she would whether she was injured or not, by that time Padraig had pulled himself to his feet. No sooner had she said they needed to go back, then Kali'rial told her no, that she only needed taking home.

Ordinarily, under different circumstances, he'd have shaken his head and informed all that no one told his beloved what she ought do. She'd had more than her share of that during the first eighteen arcs of her life. No one. Not even him. Never him. Except that none of them were in any shape to carry on, except to get off this mountain and go home. Draping an arm around Faith, he smiled but shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not in any condition to be going any more rounds with anyone right now. They're not," he said, glancing at Pash and Kali. "If it needs doing, then soon?" he suggested.

So long as she agreed they should return home instead, he glanced around for the enormowl and gave a shrill whistle, prompting the creature to return to them. Their large friend also needed to go home. So whether it was Faith and himself on board the enormowl, or all of them aboard Pash's boat, Padraig wanted nothing more at that moment than to return home with Faith safely by his side.

[Ent]

Wounds were treated and lovers reunited as the enemies were vanquished, the giant monster burned upon the mountain side and Alexander along with it. They had triumphed over the ancient necromancer but not without suffering themselves, everyone had some form of injury but Faith still filled with adrenaline would be able to help them all, including herself. Her attempts to reduce the chance of scarring from the burn on Padraig would be relatively successful but the handprint would still remain, a long term reminder of the battle Padraig had won. Pash would too be scarred from his battle with the beast, the slash across his body and memories of the monster forever in his mind. Faith's hands would never be the same, the wounds would leave marks upon her skin and Kali'rial was the only member of the group who would leave with minimal flesh wounds.

Still the discussion was made and in the end decided that they would leave, return home and perhaps seek out anything that may have been left behind at a later date. The weather and world seemed to agree with this decision as the journey back down would be much easier than up, maybe they took a better route or perhaps it was the adrenaline and relief that all were alive and relatively well. Either way they made it down to the beach and the wind was with them, an aid to both of their methods of transport home.

They would all make it home safely and without issue but maybe a bone or two to pick with the Scalvoris government and its lack of action in aid of the kidnapped woman. Not that it was their fault truth be told, things had been odd the day she had been taken and they had found many unforeseen and unexplainable problems. Still they were home and life would go on but so would someone else.
Only embers remained from the burned up creature, the fire had not gotten hot enough to burn the bones and so from within the ribcage a heavily charred hand would emerge the fingers moving and grasping at the air in jolts with horrific crunching sounds as the snow cleared for the second had to emerge. Someone was alive or more accurately...undead.

[Ent]

Your rewards little ones!

Skill points 20 for everyone

Pash:
Knowledge:
Necromancy: Creatures are vulnerable to fire
Necromancy: Destroy the well, destroy the beast
Necromancy: Some necromancers heal fast
Bladed combat (knives): Cutting open a stitched up wound
Bladed combat (knives): Ice pick grip
Bladed combat (knives): Dodge and weave, speed is your best option
Endurance: Fighting in the cold
Endurance: Fighting while injured
Acrobatics: Ducks, weaves and roles
Discipline: Keeping control of your emotions even in a rough fight

Injuries: Gash to the ribcage, will take 30 trials to fully heal and will leave a scar.

Kali:
Necromancy: Creatures are vulnerable to fire
Necromancy: Destroy the well, destroy the beast
Necromancy: Some necromancers heal fast
Throwing weapons (lantern): Throwing a lantern onto a monster's back
Ranged weapons (bow): Using flaming arrows
Ranged weapons (bow): Aim for the eyes on big armoured creatures
Ranged weapons (bow): Focus and control your breathing
Endurance: Fighting in the cold
Endurance: Fighting while injured
Tactics: Keeping your distance

Injuries: Mild concussion lasting two trials.
Aching body and bruises from impact with the rock, clearing up after 5 trials.

Padraig:
Necromancy: Creatures are vulnerable to fire
Necromancy: Destroy the well, destroy the beast
Necromancy: Some necromancers heal fast
Bladed combat (longsword): Use taunts against egotistic opponents
Bladed combat (longsword): Fighting in snow
Bladed combat (longsword): Protecting someone is good motivation
Endurance: Fighting in the cold
Endurance: Fighting while injured
Tactics: Fighting in a pair
Tactics: Using taunts

Injuries: Small cut to the left shoulder, will heal in 18 trials.
Small cut to the calf, will heal in 20 trials.
Hand burn to the chest, will heal in 20 trials and will scar but not as prominently due to Faith's first aid.

Abilities foryour great use of Qylios' blessing and courageous acts:

"Fall Back!": The Blessed calls for a tactical retreat. Those within earshot of the call, or if a signal is given via horn or other means, are filled with renewed vigor as they retreat. Those bonded to the Blessed move quicker and only need to be within functioning range of their Bond to take effect of this ability upon activation.

Faith:
Necromancy: Destroy the well, destroy the beast
Necromancy: Some necromancers heal fast
Climbing: Traversing an icy cliff face
Climbing: Focus on keeping moving
Bladed combat (longsword): Flank a solo opponent
Bladed combat (longsword): Try to disable their hands
Mount: Being carried by an enormowl
Mount: Being a passenger on an enormowl
Endurance: Climbing in the cold
Endurance: Fighting in the cold
Tactics: Flanking an opponent

Injuries: Cut hands from the climbing, will last for 10 trials.
Aching body from being thrown by the beast, lasting 2-4 trials.

Abilities for the truest of love you expressed for Padraig through these threads:

Love's Caress: Love is an important domain expressed by the Immortal and thus, is reflected within the abilities of those he marks. This ability is only found when a marked individual has acknowledged their true love and vise versa, allowing the two to telepathically connect to one another. This connection is soul binding, where the two may feel the emotions of the other, sometimes the physically touches of the other, or hear the thoughts of the other, depending on how focused the two are when attempting to communicate. No matter the distance, this connection will always provide communication between the two. However, this communication may be blocked or disrupted by certain magics and/or with meditation.

Comment:
Brilliant, all of you were fantastic and you all took it like a champ, way to role with the bunches. I am very happy with all of your performances and all of your writing, you are a great group of Roleplayers and I am so glad I was asked to moderate this plot. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did and let me know if you think I missed anything of importance in the review and I will take a look.