Revelations I (Unseen University; pm to join)

This is where all of the medieval Gawain role-plays are archived.
Kitsunegami
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Post by Kitsunegami » Mon Nov 23, 2009 10:05 pm

The threat was over from that device, now perhaps things would be calm enough to make more progress. Such was not quite the case.

The group came upon the room of golems, then the mouse professor spoke up about a nimble fur. "Perhaps I could manage to make it across. While I can barely fight without my sword, I'm very swift, and good at jumping." she says, handing her blade and pack to one of the others. Taking only her armor, and a few talismans. She watched for a few minutes, looking for their patterns and 'habits'.

Once she was satisfied, Jyya ran out, avoiding as many golems as she could, and using those she couldn't avoid as springboards and leaping points. She made it half-way across the room before pulling out a talisman and slapping it against the wall before the apex of her jump. One of the golems that was in the path of her leap had turned abruptly and thrown off her trajectory. It seemed to have enough consciousness left to identify her as one that was not it's master.

The talisman she used was a basic and simple magic circle. One that was used for versatility. She drew out a portion of the stone wall, making a 2 foot by 2 foot ledge that she grabbed onto. The golem didn't quite realize that half of it's 'arm' was missing when it swung, but it did release some audible noise that drew the attention of several others...

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Post by Sade » Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:13 pm

Nessus craned his neck back and forth, trying to glimpse Jyya as she darted and leapt and wove through the churning stone masses, inhaling sharply each time she came close to falling or failed to notice a danger. Again he felt vague familiarity burning an uncomfortable hole in the back of his mind. They weren't particularly similar in appearance, no, but the way the two of them moved was so alike as to be uncanny.

Halfway across the cavern, the golem clumsily and massively bashing at the rocks below Jyya's artificial ledge was drawing the attention of others. None of the golems possessed recognizable faces or eyes- they were just bunches of crumbled rock- but nevertheless they all seemed to turn and regard each other as if for the very first time. The tension building in the room was palpable and as mountainous as the golems generating it. What happened next appeared to happen in slow motion, because the golems were so ponderously gigantic.

The room erupted into a massive, full-scale, brutal difference of opinions.

So violent was this difference of opinions that the floor shook too erratically and forcefully for Nessus to keep his footing. First a nearby golem smashed the one trying to get at Jyya, than two golems attacked that golem, and then dozens attacked those, and so on and so forth until everything was smashing everything else with a vigor and purpose previously absent from their actions. It seemed that half of the golems were trying to kill Jyya, and the other half were trying to stop them. In actuality, just as the kangaroo rat reminded Nessus of someone long passed, she awoke in the oldest golems a shimmer of recognition: this was not an intruder to be killed, but a master to be protected. Luckily, the older golems were on average much larger and more solidly... assembled, than the others.

Several minutes of carnage passed, after which the aggressive golems lay shattered across the floor, and the benign golems stood around "staring" at the fur hanging from the wall, if something with eyes could be said to stare. Nessus raised an eyebrow. "Hmm." The sound was lost in the eerie silence of the cavern. Almost nothing moved. The golems stood absolutely still, save for a few damaged specimens which swayed slightly but remained nonetheless fixated on Jyya.

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Post by Rackenhammer » Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:21 pm

The mouse professor was a bit surprised to see his suggestion acted upon, and that was a reaction shared by both Caraennyn and the Dean. All three, however, were impressed with the virtuosity demonstrated by Jyya as she wove her way through the mass of moving golems.
Dr. Martin's breath caught when she saw the first golem take a swing at her. It could be said that she did not actually breath during the entire fight between the two factions of golems. It wasn't difficult to figure out what was happening, though; golems would only fight in defense of those they considered a "master."
When the dust settled, and everyone was breathing again, the scene revealed was all the intact golems staring at Jyya. Caraennyn shouted out, "Hey Jyya, do you think you could get them to let us through? They seem to be waiting for orders."
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Post by Indrick151 » Mon Nov 30, 2009 7:00 pm

Logan had watched the golems, he didn’t think there was much he could do to help overcome a bunch of rocks assembled like that. What could he do throw up a barrier that they could smash aside? He understood that the mere fact that they were more physical than a fire elemental made them better at overcoming the magical barriers he knew and understood. He was racking his brain when Jyya leapt out and started jumping around and between them, he stared, amazed at her agility again. And then the golems started their little infighting moment, and Logan too lost his footing during the golems brutal and crude melee. He watched as they destroyed each other until only the largest ones were left standing. They seemed to ‘look’ to Jyya for orders.

Logan didn’t understand what had just happened, he barely even knew what a golem was, and stood no chance of realising what had just transpired with them fighting to protect Jyya. Nor did he understand what they were waiting for, shouldn’t they just crush her?
“uh… why are they just standing there?â€
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Post by Kitsunegami » Mon Nov 30, 2009 7:42 pm

Jyya looked at the golems with some degree of amazement... Did they just protect me, nay, save me, from the others? she thought to herself. It was then that she was asked to give them orders. "I've no idea what to say. I'm no leader..." she said back.

She thought for a moment, then hopped down onto the shoulder of one before hopping down to the ground. Instead of using words, she gestured for them to line up along the wall, then waited to see what they did. If they responded the way she hoped, then she would be relieved, if they didn't, then she would tell them to do so in the local tongue.

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Post by Sade » Tue Dec 01, 2009 7:37 pm

Responding more to her will than her gesturing, the remaining golems practically threw themselves against the far wall, jumbling against it and crumbling into great lumps upon the floor. Minutes later, the room was once again still. Whether the golems were still alive, as it were, was not readily apparent.

After meeting up with Jyya at the center, the troupe continued to the far doorway and into a tunnel. The passageway carried them deeper and deeper into the mountain. It seemed to continuously curve in on itself in a disconcerting fashion. At one point the stalagmites and stalactites appeared to have grown horizontally out from the walls, either that or the furs were somehow walking at a ninety degree angle to the true floor. The corridors were not entirely dark, but dimly lit by an eerie blue phosphorescence coming from striations in the rock face. The dense rock itself was almost perfectly black. They passed through vast chambers black save for the glitter of distant crystals, rooms awash in organic phosphorescent lights, and crossed by a number of endless chasms much like the one guarded by the fire elemental, however they did not encounter any further resistance.

Many hours of traveling brought the group to a small room, clearly artificial, angular and carved from the rock, at least a mile beneath the surface. The room was the shape of a cut diamond, with the entrance doorway at the apex and two sealed doors set at angles on either side of a large console. The surface was covered in the unmistakable black marble of a Dysuhlian command surface, but, unlike the primitive manual override of the University's captured assault golem, this command surface was fully six feet wide, three in depth, and both curved around a central standing position and tilted slightly forward for easy access. Reflections shimmered across the material of their own accord, vague images of objects and people who weren't actually present in the room.

"By Dysuhl!" Nessus gasped, rushing over to it, "it's right out of an Agamemnon!" More specifically, it looked like it had been torn forcefully from the command/siege golem and retrofitted for its new duty, whatever that duty happened to be.

He lay his hand on the surface.

Red beams of energy spiked out from a circular crystal set into the wall and began to sweep across the room, pausing briefly on each of them. A blaring noise filled the air as they passed over Nessus- an alarm. A large slab fell into place over the entranceway- a large panel on each of the longer walls retraced to reveal the orifices of two Dysulian turrets, each already beginning to glow with internal hellfire. Nessus eyes shot around in desperation, found no escape, no hiding place. He could feel the heat of the turrets scorching his fur- and then it all stopped. The turrets returned to an inactive state. The wall panels began to slide back into place, and both promptly jammed about halfway. The siren cut out. Behind him, the shafts of red light had coalesced on Jyya.

Within the Agamemnon's command surface, flowing lines cascaded into looping elegant text, similar to command scrit but readily legible.

"Welcome, Zodt," Nessus read aloud, eyes misting.

New lines were forming; "Ward failure imminent. Power source failure imminent."

"I don't... how can..." but the words just wouldn't form. He had always made a point of understanding the phenomena around him, but now, like Logan had been back at the golems, he was at a loss, utterly and completely. Beyond that, however, there was something else in his expression, something lingering in his voice. It wasn't just that he was confused, but he also clearly felt injured on some very personal level by this room's reaction to Jyya. He looked back and forth between the kangaroo rat and the command surface, knitting his brow in a mixture of confusing and frustration. How could it mistake her for Zodt? They looked nothing alike, they had been born more than a thousand years apart, and... and it was just wrong.

Finally he settled on the words "I'm going to try to get these doors open" and turned his attentions to the old console, tracing his claws across the surface, leaving little trails of red along it. The doors, each a massive curved slab, began retracting into the ceiling with a low, continuous rumble. One made it nearly to the top, the other ground to a halt halfway there. This place, the caverns, the structures, the traps, it was all falling apart, all succumbing to the patient ministrations of time and nature.

Nessus lead them out through the more fully open door and into the chamber beyond. Both doors opened to the same vast space. Hundreds of feet above them, a withered corpse impaled through the chest upon a twisted wardstone spire could just barely be seen within the faceted surface of a massive red crystal. The crystal shone with a sickly, pale red light, constantly wavering and flickering as the soul providing it with energy slowly dissipated. Books, tomes, and various artifacts could be seen stacked sloppily towards the far end of the chamber... but the chamber immediately around them demanded far more attention.

Nessus took a subconscious step back, fascination and horror and amazement plastered over his face.

The walls of the chamber were lined with cylindrical alcoves, each one holding something very similar to an elemental turret... but feilans were pouring out of them- all along and among them, seemingly at random, the apertures were flashing and vanishing, and furs of all shapes and sizes were practically dumping out onto the floor. There were rats and taurs and avians and otters and ferrets and foxes and canines and everything. They were of every kind, there were hundreds, and almost every single one of them was dressed in Dysuhlian clothing, clutched Dysuhlian containers containing Dysuhlian posessions, and mumbled or cried out in Dysuhlian dialects. All were either thoroughly distracted or blind; none appeared to be aware of the tiny troupe of Unseen University students and professors.

The words of Lord Lovidius echoed in Nessus mind; *Hidden within the Dresden Mountains is an archive, a cache where my people placed only that tiny kernel which made us just and good. All that we were before the taint of Vedicus and endless war corrupted us had been concentrated and hidden away just as the war ended, with the hope that it would be found after the hate and death had left the land.*

He never said anything about books. Or tomes, or artifacts, or what precisely lay inside. This place, carved deep into the mountains, protected for centuries by magic, guarded by traps, defended against intruders; this place wasn't an archive. It was an ark.

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Post by Rackenhammer » Tue Dec 01, 2009 8:49 pm

(Oh, wow.... your best shocker yet, Sade.)

The business with the golems had resolved itself before the Dean could answer Logan's questions. That was alright though, post facto explanations were easier anyway. "Well, to put it simply," Dr. Martin said to the wolf as the group transversed the chamber, "All of these golems were created by Dysuhlians, or perhaps the remnants of them, and were keyed to obey them. Jyya apparently resembles one of their leaders, and so they obey her." That left unanswered what leader she was supposed to have resembled, though.

Onward they continued. Caraennyn was visibly confused by the disorienting orientation of the rock fixtures, and even his Master was perturbed. "Ah, Dr. Martin, is the chamber misaligned, or are we?"
The badger, gazing fixedly around the corridor, replied. "I don't care, as long as gravity agrees with our point of view."

Thankfully, no more resistance was encountered until the central chamber was encountered. The Dean stood a little behind Nessus as he examined the room. Upon his amazement at seeing the command board, Dr. Martin commented. "It seems that this place was created with what leftovers could be salvaged from the wars between the Vedicus faction, Loyalists, and the Seven." Indeed, the chamber had a recycled look. She had to admit, though, the workmanship was almost seamless.
Then Nessus triggered the alarms. Caraennyn and the two professors automatically summoned magic to bear, but refrained from casting when the defense mechanisms went inactive. All three reacted with various degrees of surprise when it was revealed that Jyya had been the conciliating presence.
"Zodt? Who is Zodt?" Caraennyn asked in puzzlement, though not as much as was passing over Nessus' face.
The Dean's admiration of the mechanisms went down a notch when the doors got stuck after Nessus planted the open command again. *Allowances, I suppose, must be made for them being 1,000 years old.*

Revulsion crossed her face upon seeing the spiked corpse. The other professor noticed. "I believe he sacrificed himself voluntarily for this." He ventured. The expression on Dr. Martin's face diminished, but did not disappear.
Caraennyn was fascinated by the jumble of stuff all around, but was careful not to touch. All eyes, however, were shortly on the turrets that were becoming active.

Dr. Martin wasn't sure what amazed her more, that the archive was an ark of furs, or that the selection of furs was completely egalitarian as regards species. "All true wealth is biological..." That quote, from her almost forgotten teacher, sprang unbidden to her lips. It had relevance here, though. "What gave Dysuhl the nobility it had were furs like these, then?" That made a lot of sense, actually. The only thing which could guarantee the presence of such things as honor, justice, love, respect, and all of the plethora of qualities that comprised nobility in any institution was the presence of furs that held such things in their person.
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Post by Indrick151 » Thu Dec 03, 2009 6:46 am

Logan was worried slightly by the Dean’s explanation of why the golems had protected Jyya. If she resembled one of their leaders then perhaps she was related to them… in which case would that mean she was in part Dysuhlian herself? Logan’s mind started connecting the dots, and considering he had only met two Dysuhlian’s in his life, one of whom he was travelling with now, that certainly had a profound effect on his opinion of Jyya.

As they walked and the passageway became stranger and disorienting Logan found himself tilting his head at times to make sure that they weren’t walking on walls, because what little he understood of caves, or at least of how rocks worked was that they did not usually form like that.

The control room once again surprised Logan, he couldn’t help running a paw along the edge of the command surface, not close enough to touch anything important, nor to activate it, but just enough for his amazement and curiosity to be satisfied. He had never seen the captured golems console up close, and if this was what Dysuhlian technology was like… well it was befuddling, how could one even use this effectively? His thoughts were cut off by the sirens and the heat from the turrets, and he was just starting to try and consciously form a barrier, closing his eyes as he concentrated, and then it stopped. And he opened them, to hear Nessus say ‘welcome Zodt’ and he also figured out, based on the stares by the others that the machine by some bizarre logic was referring to Jyya.
“Who’s Zodt?â€
'reality is bending and screwing me over but at least it has decency' - Jackie twisting my words.

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Post by Sade » Thu Dec 03, 2009 11:21 pm

(I decided to write a short one this time. I think it came out quite.... DAMNIT!)

"The city had a large slave population," Nessus murmured absentmindedly. "And... Zodt..." but he could not continue, not without choking on the words, not without revealing just how emotionally compromised he had become. Instead, he looked away, eyes downcast, and struggled to maintain control. The memories... they were so very vivid now, he could practically hear her voice.

There was a scream, shrill, muffled by hundreds of bodies. Suddenly hundreds of faces were turned in the University troupe's direction, eyes wide like wild deer caught in a lantern beam. An eternity seemed to pass. Those faces changed slowly from merely stunned, to deeply concerned, and continued until they had become masks of terror. Somewhere in the distance an infant cried, breaking the spell, and plunging the room into chaos. People trampled each other in their feverish attempts to run in whatever direction they happened to be facing, so long as it was not towards Nessus and the others. Shouting and screaming and wailing echoed throughout the chamber until the vast space was filled with noise.

Nessus snapped back to reality, dropped to a defensive stance and looked jerkily around for any threat. The room was unchanged. There was nothing there! A female voice, powerfully commanding, Dysuhlian with a distinct Mazan accent, cut through the conflagration and sent Nessus' heart seizing in his chest. For a brief couple of seconds, he looked as if his condition might turn dangerously medical.

....

She pushed her way through the crowd as best she could, and grabbed a passing otter,

"What is it!? Who is it!?"

"They've found us!" he wailed, clutching his head, "Oh God!"

She threw him off to the side, wove past the panicking masses to what she hoped to be a more dependable feilan. He was a rat, one of the traditionalist necromancers, donning a purposely bloodstained robe adorned with bits of bone and preserved flesh, his hands wrapped and face covered in dirty bandages for the sake of dramatic effect. A blunt weapon fashioned from the spine of some wild animal hung from his belt. She grabbed a fistful of his robe and jerked him close, speaking as clearly as she could. "Spread the word to your cohorts; get everyone to the bunkers! Do you understand!? The bunkers! Tell everyone to stay low, and be prepared! We may have to make a break for it!" trying to order these types around was usually about as effective as shouting orders at a brick wall, so stubborn they were. Thankfully this circumstance seemed to have shocked some obedience into the crusty old sorcerer, as he nodded vigorously and stumbled off into the crowd.

She spotted another refugee she counted among the reliable and waded through the masses to him.

"You made it, thank Dysuhl!"

This was not the time to thank any deities or anthropomorphized philosophical ideals; that would come later, if any of them survived. "Find Leviathan!" She ordered, casting an eye towards the tiny group of Vedicus' forces near the chamber entrance. The fact that he had resorted to employing non-rodents was bitterly amusing. "I will take care of these," she spat.

....

The riling masses began to fall into order and file rapidly towards a cluster of previously concealed doorways at the cavern's far end. From the remnants of the crowd a female jird appeared- a rodent with a furred tail and a yellowish tan coloring often called 'fawn' or 'champagne,' ears about the size of Nessus' own, and hair cut back to fur length. She stood confidently at a little over five feet in height on slightly elongated digitigrade hind paws, arms held to the side in a just-so fashion indicative of martial training- apparently at ease but clearly ready and willing to fight, her hands balled into fists. The jird was clearly very fit, somewhat slender but also exhibiting well-developed muscle tone: she wore only a simple sackcloth vest and what might be called pants, also sackcloth, both items of clothing airy and loose to allow for maximum flexibility.

As far as Nessus was concerned, as he clutched at his chest and tried to breath, Vedicus had nothing, absolutely nothing, on that gaze slicing out from those featureless, deep maroon eyes.

The jird moved forwards and stopped a good twenty feet from them, her easy stance belying muscles coiled like springs and charged with a unique form of magic.

"Zodt," Nessus finally managed to choke, "Zodt, I-"

"How did you find us," she intoned flatly, looking to each of them in turn.

"...Lovidius lead us here, for the archive-"

"So he switched sides after all."

"Well, yes," he offered, repeatedly meeting her gaze and looking away, "you didn't know? It happened a long time ago..."

"So," she continued, speaking slowly, "it's you, then."

Nessus wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, or what was going on for that matter. He glanced to the Dean, then back to Zodt, "umm, yes?" They regarded each other for a few moments, Nessus looked befuddled, heartbroken, and hopeful; Zodt looked utterly grave.

Zodt shifted her stance ever so slightly. Nessus eye's widened. Why would she!?- Zodt brought her hands out in front of her, gripped them together- Nessus fled back towards the entrance chamber- Zodt leapt straight up into the air, flipped once, and brought her hands thundering down into and through the stone floor as she landed. Strange magics augmented the force of the blow by several orders of magnitude and sent a web of cracks forward underneath the University troop, massive spires of rock bursting from the miniature chasms as they formed. She threw her arms out behind her, bent forwards, opened her mouth, and emitted a silent wall of force which both sent the troupe flying and blasted the rock spires from their bases to fly after them, deadly points facing forwards. With a stomp of her footpaw, the bases of the four nearest intact spires shattered. She lifted her hands slowly into the air, palms facing upwards, and the spires floated heavily from the floor. One after the other, as she draw her arms back and thrust them forwards, palms facing ahead, the four spires streaked through the air towards Nessus, the Dean, Jyya, and Logan.

Behind her, towards the back of the chamber, the hidden bunkers had filled to capacity. Most of the refugees shouted and screamed, pushing violently over each other, trying to wrestle their way to safety. They were the largely defenseless masses, with a few powerful yet cowardly furs thrown in for good measure. However, the entire population did not meet these profiles, and as time passed, these strong-minded, powerful, or simply brave furs were finally beginning to regain their senses. Following orders from one of the traditionalist necromancers, half of them formed a protective perimeter around the exposed civilians, the others gathered into groups of three and took turns huddling behind alters and darting to more forward hiding places, covering each other as they went. In this way they advanced towards the aid of Zodt.

"Why are you doing this!?" Nessus cried out as Zodt closed the distance between them. He'd sparred with her before, long, long ago. He thought knew he had a pretty good idea to expect. Unfortunately, he very rarely won those sparring matches. The rat dodged a roundhouse kick, stumbled away as a structural pillar took the brunt of the impact and shattered, raining them with rubble. He summoned his sword and pointed it in her general direction. This accomplished very little save fore pissing her off. An expertly placed kick sent the blade spiraling off in a random direction.

"Surrender," she hissed.

"Fine!"

The jird advanced, "then face the punishment for your crimes!"

Nessus knew what this meant. She was going to kill him! In one smooth motion he summoned a new sword, took aim, and fired directly into her... only she wasn't there anymore. She was behind him. He whirled. An open-handed strike sent him thirty feet into a wall. He struck it, fell, and slumped limply against the cold floor.

By now the Dysuhlian necromancers, new style and old, along with sorcerers, mages, and generally unpleasant looking warriors had arrived. They surrounded the remaining University furs and began closing in.

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Post by Kitsunegami » Fri Dec 04, 2009 12:31 am

Jyya had been fairly stunned at the display of the jird, no, awesturck would be more appropriate. It was the seamless combination of the magical and physical, that her adopted parents had taught her to strive for... In this jird, she saw a form of perfection she had only dreamed of. It was only when a shard of stone struck her face that she was knocked from her awed stupor.

She began throwing up wards when needed, and dodging everything else she could. She was struck by several pieces of falling stone then she collapsed for a few minutes. She got up, something out of place with her, she stood there for a moment, motionless, while Nessus was kicked into the wall. Her head was down, her hair hanging over her face, she stood there for a few minutes, as the other mages and warriors gathered around them, and slowly moved closer.

"That is enough... No more..."

A little blood was dripping from her chin when one of the larger-eared Dysuhlians paused for a moment. He looked a little confused, this caused a little chain-reaction among them, causing them to hesitate briefly.

"That... is... ENOUGH!!!!" she shouted, throwing her head back, a magic circle forming around her at the very second she began to speak. By the time she had finished, her voice had been amplified to the point of shaking the room without being deafening. She stomped her foot down when she spoke, magic was forcibly drawn into her body, further enhancing her well trained body.

She leaped at the jird, unleashing a furious assault of bolts of magic, blade, foot and claw. The few who saw her face would have seen a bad wound over her left eye, and a faint glow of magic in the other.
The way she assaulted the jird was confusing to most, it seemed that she was trying to inflict serious injury upon the jird, but at the same time, simply trying to force her away from Nessus. Her attacks seemed to be focused on keeping the jird off-ballance, in a sense.

"I know nothing of your qualms with Professor Nessus, but things have changed! This place is falling apart!" Jyya shouted as she continued her assault, wanting nothing more than the jird to stop fighting, so she didn't have to actually kill her.

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Post by Rackenhammer » Fri Dec 04, 2009 2:23 pm

The furs of the Unseen University could not make out the exchanges; Dysuhlian was a dead language to all but those who had lived in it. The Dean was the first to realize that all was not going well, especially when Nessus seemed to look to her for advice. She had none.
The sudden magic from the jird knocked them all off-balance, and it took several frantic castings of wards and light-bolts for Dr. Martin to prevent the flying stone from killing her. Her eyes flashed from the short, one-sided fight that Nessus was having with "Zodt," to the surrounding Dysuhlians, who were about to attack those whom they should by right of common enemy be allies. *Gah, and Gawainian's a fairly recent language, too. I'm multilingual, but all the languages I know weren't spoken 1,000 years ago!* For the first time on this journey, the Dean was frightened.

Then came Jyya's stunning transformation from fairly skilled student to what for all the world looked like an apprentice jird. The Dean was both filled with surprise, and pride in her student. Never mind that Jyya had been with the University less than a week... *She's bought us some breathing time, at least.*

Caraennyn, meanwhile, was pretty close to a breakdown. Being, in sequence, shocked, baffled, forcibly thrown, and pelted with all manner of rocks, one could sympathize with him. All of this was enough to break through his Dutch-Gawainian facade, and expose the Welsh core underneath. "What in the name of the Seven is going on here!?" He wailed in Celtic. As a language, Celtic was an old tongue, at least as old as Dysuhlian. If there were any here who had been taken from Welsh territory, or any place that had been a Celtic stronghold, they would have understood Caraennyn....
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Indrick151
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Post by Indrick151 » Sat Dec 05, 2009 7:22 am

Logan’s awe and amazement turned to terror as the jird attacked; he tried to dive out of the way of the spikes, but was instead sent hurtling into the wall by her second attack, with a solid spire of rock flying towards him, His back exploded in pain just as the spire slammed into his legs, and he heard and audible snap from one of them as he hit the ground, crying out in pain as he huddled on the ground. One of his legs was broken with a shard of bone sticking out of it, blood pouring out of the wound, he looked down and paled as he saw it, instinctively reaching down to it and he accidentally brushed the bone crying out in agony. Tears forming in his eyes. He couldn’t even think coherently through the pain and his vision was torn between being blurred by tears and the explosions of colourful stars.

When he could think enough he gasped out a few almost unintelligible syllables as his paw over the jagged bone started to glow with a flickering green light and Logan felt the pain fade from his leg, though none of the bleeding stopped and the bone stayed sticking out. He sighed though as the pain left, it was a small spell, to dull the pain. It didn’t get rid of it all, but it gave him the ability to think coherently again. He looked up to see and hear Jyya’s frantic assault, he then heard Caraenynn’s wailing in that language, whatever it was.

Logan didn’t panic until he saw the expression on the Dean’s face, and it was at that moment that he knew they were in trouble, she had stared Vedicus and Amelangrien down at times, and now she looked uncertain. And that struck Logan with terror, but he did his best to keep it from showing, an attempt he failed at. All the while he concentrated on trying to bring the magic into himself so he could use it to bring up a ward between the university troupe and those Dysuhlians. It was a real challenge, his attention kept slipping back to his leg, and then to the terror that the Dysulians were causing. But after a few agonising moments he managed to get a grip on a strand of magic, and using it he mentally draped that strand around them, forming a magic barrier around them, shimmering slightly. It was fragile, and looked like it was barely going to hold together.

“I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die…â€
'reality is bending and screwing me over but at least it has decency' - Jackie twisting my words.

'In a war in heaven, Angels fall first'

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Post by Sade » Sat Dec 05, 2009 7:56 pm

Zodt walked briskly to where Nessus lay, sneering down at the limp body. *He always was weak,* she told herself for the thousandth time, *weak mind, weak body.* Of course this wasn't true, but if she repeated it to herself enough from one day to the next, it sometimes helped her to forget the heartbreak, or at least push it out of the way for a while. If he had only listened to her, if he had only trusted her, they could have averted so much death and destruction, they could have...

"That... is... ENOUGH!!!!" The words reverberated around the cavern, not overly loud so much as they were forceful. They rang in the floor and reverberated through the shadowed ceiling, causing the slightest pause in each fur as they passed over them- each except for Zodt, who spun immediately around to take in the body responsible, a small kangaroo rat standing within a circle of cascading, roiling magical power. The jird was unfamiliar with the language, but the message was clear, and it only made anger flare in her eyes. Who was this pathetic little thing would dare to take on Zodt?

Bolts of magic screamed towards her. She writhed and twisted past the first, dropped her stance towards the right, fell beneath a second onto her right hand, kicked off from the floor past the third, ended up in a hand stand, pushed off with both hands to flip over a fourth, and twisted through the air just over and under the final two. Her left leg swung around as she landed to deflect the waiting sword, but failed to knock it out of the kangaroo rat's grip.

As Zodt ducked and wove, dodged kicks, deflecting the sword away again and again by striking the flat of the blade with the edge of either hand, she nodded inwardly. *This feilan fights well,* she thought to herself as their arms and legs became a blur of attacks and parries. If only her loyalties had been different, she could have made a valuable contribution to the resistance movement. She wasn't particularly impressed by the specialized equipment- the sword and glove; the military often made use of such things, and she was well prepared to work around them- but weapons were nothing if not properly wielded. A sword in the wrong hands would become a crude, clumsy, blunt instrument. A fighter is only as good as her force of will, what some might call her spirit. The sheer ferocity of this opponent's attacks was slowly driving her away from Nessus, and Vedicus' other minions

The kangaroo rat shouted something in an unfamiliar language, though she did recognize Nessus' name somewhere in there. In response, Zodt took one of the kangaroo rat's legs out from under her, dropped back onto a knee during that brief distraction, and brought her hands together in a single clap. The resulting air-burst blasted both of them dozens of feet through the air, away from each other. "I will not allow you to kill these people!" The jird shouted, dropping into an ancient Mazan dialect. She gripped her hands angrily in front of her face, feeling her claws dig into the flesh of her palms. This rodent was not the one who would finally end her. She was skilled, she fought well, perhaps she even possessed some form of honor twisted and corrupted by Vedicus though it may be, but Zodt had lost so very much already, she had failed to protect so many who had relied on her. She would put every once of her being into this fight, no matter what the cost to herself or her few remaining comrades, and all told, this amounted to a greater strength and power than her opponent could match.

Meanwhile, the number of closing Dysuhlians was reaching unreasonable heights. These sorcerers and necromancers had lived through a time when magic was plentiful, easy to learn, only moderately difficult to master, and though they all remained groggy and slightly disoriented as a lingering effect of their hibernation, they all remained potent adversaries. And there were a whole lot of them. Even a miracle probably wouldn't save the University troupe now, against such an overwhelmingly large and skilled force. The crusty traditionalist necromancer, having fulfilled Zodt's request, was now at the head of the attack and closing on a distraught looking feline.

"What in the name of the Seven is going on here!?" the feline wailed.

The necromancer hopped forwards and to the side, closing the distance in a roundabout way, keeping hands and feet wide apart in an extremely aggressive, low-slung posture. He snarled in highly imperfect Celtic with what might be called a strong Slavic accent, each word ragged and piercing, "It is telling you what is being happening here!" The rat swung his skull-and-spine weapon menacingly, the air around it cracking with power, "gutter-cat is readying to be dying horribly!" He waved the skull through great, lazy arcs. Filaments of blackness speckled by brilliant points of light flowed from the eye sockets, spilled sloppily through the air, engulfed Caraennyn and lifted him off the floor. Waves of raw emotion blasted at the feline's mind as the necromancer sought a way inside, a away to corrupt the feilan to his will.

But soon... soon the rat had lost sight of the goal; he gradually began to focus instead on sending raw pain through to his captive. Subtle changes in the wrappings over his face gave evidence of the mask of deep sorrow and emotional agony hiding beneath. "Is it seeing them?" he hissed, punctuating each word with a pulse of excruciating pain, "is it seeing the friends this one was being having? Is it seeing the family this one was being having!?" All focus on the battle vanished from the necromancer's mind as his magic sought to convey his memories across the gap and burn them into Caraennyn's mind, with only limited success. There were flashes of a female rat, of children, a home with black marbled walls and a view of a vast dark city. "Is the gutter-cat being wondering where they are being now!? Is the gutter-cat being wanting to be seeing what the Vedicus was being having done to them!?- where this one was being burying them!?-" And the rest of his haggard shouting was lost as he fell unknowingly back upon his native language.

All around, the situation was rapidly deteriorating. The tides had firmly and irreparable turned in the Dysuhlians' favor, and these intruders were rapidly becoming the chosen outlet for all of their pain and sorrow, all of the horrible sights they had seen, those things which they'd lost; the lives, the livelihoods, the friends, the loved ones... The line was was closing in and building up. Like a wave, it would soon come crashing down on them.

"I don't want to die... I don't want to die..."

A shimmering, painfully bright beam of greenish brown magical energy sliced directly down past Logan's face and onto the gaping leg wound. The bone slowly and agonizingly retracted back beneath the skin, any residual bleeding ceased, and the flesh wove itself imperfectly together. The powerful magic ceased before the wound was fully healed- the healer was not trying to help him, no, he or she merely wanted to keep him conscious for as long as possible. As to who the caster was, a large reptilian creature with yellowish scales, three large crests vanishing almost immediately within the remains of a hooded cloak, and large bulbous eyes, each containing a colorful nova of a pupil, dropped from the wall just above Logan's head, touched down surprisingly softly for its apparent mass, and grabbed a fistful of Logan's robe with gigantic curved claws.

The lizard's gender was not readily identifiable either by physical shape nor pitch of voice. Its eyes narrowed into furious slits, and pulled him so close that their noses almost touched. Despite the overt threat, its voice was calm and twisted the slightest bit by dry, bitter humor. It spoke in dysuhlian, "wwwe can't have you dieing, lllittle wolf, nnnow can we. Nnno, I want you allllive and awwwake for thisss." It lifted him bodily from the floor and bashed him against the wall, "itsss fursss like you, who ended my clllan, lllittle wolf. Fursss lllike yyyou."

Again it slammed him against the wall, and then proceeded to toss him to the ground. The lizard was certainly very strong. "Rissse, llllittle wolf, and ffffight me."

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Post by Kitsunegami » Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:39 pm

Jyya heard the jird say something in ancient mazan, it was the only thing that she understood here since the feilans that were here began speaking before the jird had attack Nessus.

After that little air-blast sent the two of them flying apart, Jyya realized something. They were fighting precisely as defenders...

She immediately sheathed her blade, then spoke in the same mazan dialect as the jird, "Call off your warriors. Our presence was requested to save the contents of this place. Can you not see that the wards are all about to collapse, along with this complex? I know not the name of the spirit that sought us out, but none of us came with hostile intent." she said, holding her hand out to her sides.

"If you don't believe me, tell your warriors to stand down, and speak with our leader. You have us vastly outnumbered, and we may be your only hope of finding safety from whatever it is that you hide here from." She said as she showed full faith and placed her sheathed sword on the ground. "Do not make me regret putting faith in diplomacy..."

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Post by Rackenhammer » Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:58 pm

Caraennyn cried out in shock and agony as the necromancer's magic took a hold of him. The rat's words, however, gave Caraennyn a small sliver of hope; this was not only a fellow Celt, but one also who was not allied. "Brother, it was not I, nor any with me, who did these things to those you loved. We are not your enemies; we also have suffered from Vedicus. Please! Do we not have a right to a witan?" A Witan was a very ancient right; any Celt who had an accusation brought forward against him by another Celt could claim a hearing before the tribal head to plead his defense.

The Dean, meanwhile, took issue with the fact that Logan was facing a fight with an opponent obviously his superior. She knocked the lizard off of Logan with a light energy-charged blow from her staff. Banking on her understanding that Kahunian had been a lingua franca for the lizard tribes, and had not changed much, she spoke out, "What honor have you in fighting an acolyte, without skill to hurt? What grievance could push you to strike at one innocent of it? Have the Seven so harmed you? Regardless, you will not harm my student while I draw breath." Dr. Martin stood protectively over Logan, eyes flickering to the Dysuhlians surrounding them. *Will no one here understand?*
The other professor, meanwhile busied himself in attempting to set right the incomplete healing of Logan's leg, as well to the various injuries he'd sustained since. Above all, they tried to put forward an impression of non-aggressiveness.
Be Humble in Yourself, but Adamant in the Truth.

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