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Post by Flare on Oct 23, 2019 13:52:21 GMT -6
The stem of the leaf had a thicker coating of wax then the leaf itself, repelling his nails. Claws. Whichever. He could hear the furred male speaking, and attempting with limited success to prevent the viscous...moving thing from making its way up his leg. The other had paused in its movement towards him, another leaf in its blobb...edness? He watched it, it watched him. On a regular time of day, the sheer wrongness of the thing would have him simply walk away and ignore it. The creature or thing didn't spook him, wouldnt' then, couldnt now. The leaf seemed to fall away from the creature, and drift towards him on the small bit of wind. If he didn't know better, it could be offering the leaf. Flare took the leaf, briefly surprised that it did not feel viscous or sticky in his fingers despite being carried by the thing. "No ssstickee...to theengs." he mentioned as he got to his feet. How unusual. "Come. Will come." 24 15.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 24, 2019 4:42:02 GMT -6
"Most excellent," he replied. The lepus was not known to resort to a smile often. Instead it was his voice which carried the sentiment of appreciation at the reply. "There may be quite a number of unpredictable dark beasts within. If ever you come to feel a need to leave, simply let me know. I shall find you a safe path out." He picked up the shovel and stepped further into the yard. No sooner had they moved but a few paces when the electronic torch sputtered and flickered. The light went out. "Hm," the lepus intoned once more, in much a similar fashion as the previous time. He put the torch away and held up a palm, where a flicker of a mote came into being. The light of it was not strong, at best to match a larger candle, though it was consistent and, more importantly, persistent. The mote set to hover over the other shoulder, opposite of the bird, as the lepus continued inside towards the sounds of fighting.
|12| October: 25 Fléau: 3 (2/5)
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Post by Renathan on Oct 24, 2019 7:03:39 GMT -6
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Post by Flare on Oct 27, 2019 11:05:55 GMT -6
There was a mechanical torch of 'sort' with the pile of equipment left by a generous benefactor at his garden gate; similar to the mechanical torch the furred male (no, Eevane) held in his hand. That suddenly sputtered like a sick beast and went out. A sense of forboding came over the drake as he glanced about the area. For him, it was daylight without bright sun. They were following sounds of fighting after all. Flare wasn't an animal, but his wings weren't flat to his spine either. He let them hand partially flared. If anything, the useless flaps of skin and bone made him look bigger then normal; an effort not effectively gained by his staff-cane. Easing himself to his feet at last, the ssashirk followed the one with magic flowing out of his palm. The only real thing he knew about magic seemed to be that it was rare. Most bodies could not learn it, no matter how hard they tried... "How do majik?" he finally asks within hearing range. 26 18.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 27, 2019 12:05:25 GMT -6
There was curiousness in the ssashirk, in not just appearance, but likewise in mind. The bird watched the lizard-blood walk with them with wings raised. Her head tilted to one side, then another, beginning to imitate such with her own wings. For all the terrible atmosphere of this accursed place the bird held a calm countenance, whether out of proximity to the lepus or simple ignorance of its dangers. The question prompted a turn of head from the lepus and he waited for the ssashirk to come side to side, before continuing. A curiousness, indeed. City-folk always focused heavily on the appearance. This one asked about substance before the strange glow of his coat. It was an admirable change.
"It requires a substantial amount of study," he began to explain. "Perhaps not always, there are some born more naturally to the arcane than others, but those without inner magic of their own can none the less come to learn it. To study is to learn what is required to perform it. To perform it is to learn how to use it. To use it is to understand responsibility." In all spoken word the lepus portrayed a solemness. This was no trivial matter in his mind. "Many would come to claim the harder part of magic is to find the materials for it. To craft an orb which connects one's self to the arcane ley lines. Those people would be deeply wrong." He slowly shook his head. "Magic has a price. Those who wield magic do well to respect the price they paid to have it."
He stopped as the racket of fighting was now close enough to see. Ahead, among the bushes, two small figures at disagreement. One shaped as if a hound, the other a fungi.
|13| October: 27 Fléau: 3 (3/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 28, 2019 4:50:35 GMT -6
Eevane starts to talk about magic as Flare caught up to fall into relative step with him. He didn't notice originally of the uses of shovels, but the magic wielding one did seem to favor a leg to his keen eye vs having a shorter limb like himself. He listened to the furred male talk of studee and ...making of magic? What or how did that end up happening? A brief vision crosses his mind of those hand length crystals that seem to pulse with energy. Why did he think of those horrible nightmare inducing objects now? Magic has a price... briefly he wondered if that price was your sanity, but this male appeared to be quite sane, and sane enough to drive away darker forces of the mind. He makes a noise of agreement. "Strrrrrong majik hurrrts. Hurrrrts head if touched." he reconciles more to himself. Magic did not agree with him, and he didn't quite agree with it. Now what was this? A tiny d...dog thing and a fungi? Flare is very tempted to start examining the mushroom, but it has TEETH lining the edge of its cap. What was this thing? 28 19.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 28, 2019 5:19:24 GMT -6
There is indeed a purpose to the shovel beyond a simple implement of work and ghastly defence. The lepus' stride is not over-pronounced in such area, but there is certainly an irregularity in the pace on the left leg's part. Outwardly there appears to be no visible distortion to it, though clothes may cover potential injuries. The bird shrieked again as the squabbling of the beasts grew louder. The lepus planted the shovel in the ground to briefly lean on it with his arms. These small creatures were certainly a curiosity, but he could not denote them to be outright heinous in nature. These were small devils, largely harmless.
To the ssashirk's point, he turned his head towards him. In the dimness of the Mansion ground there was a glow to the eyes that seemed to come within, more striking now that true darkness had overtaken them, save for the mote of light. "Pain, you say?" his eyes search nothingness for a moment, "There are spells which can cause pain, yes. Those would have to be quite rightly directed at a person by a specific source. Not all spells are harmful, however.." There was a low hum of thought. "When and where do you feel this pain comes to you most?"
|14| October: 29 Fléau: 3 (4/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 28, 2019 5:27:37 GMT -6
"Head ffain. Touch majik, hurt head. Strrrong majik." he tells the male beside him. Magic seems to have more usage or harm then he originally thought. "Ssstrange rock, glowsss. Ffulsssess." Flare's attention isn't on his travel companion long, but on the creatures before them. "Darkee cawlled daeemarrres." he recalls vividly of his trip into the darkness with the other furred one he met, Darkee, and the magic rock that gave him bad headaches. To his side, Eevane didn't seem remotely startled by these unusual creatures; but his bird did. It shrieked at least once, holding her wings out and in a similar fashion to his own. Without the mote, Flare could see a bit deeper into the bushes. The bushes were hiding a few objects it seemed. He points them out. "Fffight over thesssse?" He moves forward of his own volition, parting the bushes. The two squabbling grows louder, over the movement of the bushes. Another leaf or two break loose and theres'... a jar of eyes? 30 20.20 lv 51 Flare
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 28, 2019 6:21:43 GMT -6
A train of thought caught the lepus as he deliberated upon the answers. If what the ssashirk was saying proved to be true, the damage and pain to him was of no result of a spell as such. It would have had to have been natural in nature. He was aware of the mammalian mentioned, a previous customer to his graveyard and one most unfortunate in the manner of her inability to stay unharmed. The acquaintance extended to just that, however. The brow furrowed as the lepus straightened, reaching a conclusion of sorts. He addressed the ssashirk again, turning as Flèau settled down.
"If by these strange rocks you may come to mean the crystals in the mountains, that may be the answer. Quite possibly you were not assaulted by any spell or direct magic, but are simply sensitive to the presence of it. There are people known to have trained their senses to such a point as magical energies begin to register in their mind, when close. Yours may be a natural case, but one which is either unfiltered or simply overtly sensitive." This topic was beginning to give him great interest. "Please, if you would, did you feel any sensation when the food or light was conjured? Something at the back of one's mind, or spine, or such?"
|15| October: 31 Fléau: 4 (0/5)
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Post by Renathan on Oct 28, 2019 7:13:37 GMT -6
You can hear a shakey moaning from.... where is it? You could swear you heard it around here somewhere... You don't even have time to investigate - instead, the very earth beneth your feet crumble, and the rotting grey flesh of those that were once living plunge out of the ground and into the air, sending specks of dirt and clods of withering grass flying as their clawed fingers grab at your legs! Everything around you seems to be screaming, and it will surely take all the courage and strength within' you to break free of this 'garden' of hands!
[The next 5 posts yield no result.]
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 29, 2019 11:18:39 GMT -6
A rumble passed beneath their feet failing to catch the lepus' attention. There was intenseness in the curiosity towards this topic, to discover more about this ssashirk who may have had a natural connection to magic, unaware. Where the tremor failed, however, the sounds succeeded. His long ears moved, focused and he glanced down. The ground began to shift, the bird rumbled discordantly and worst of all, the shovel's spade began to flicker with light. In swift motion he picked it from the ground and took steps back, on impulse to a sense he could not name. Wielding the shovel as if a spear, ready to strike as if an axe, the first of the unearthly hands clawed up from the ground at where he had stood. The bird began to shriek and flutter, calls of distress and alarm as she circled around the lepus, who brought the shovel down at the hands, edge-first. Where it connected, a discharge of light and force emanated to scatter the undead remains.
The bird did not settle and the ground produced more and more arms, hungry for the living. The lepus struck again at another pair closest to him, then realizing the ssashirk was quite unarmed. "Mister Flare! Stay to the paved stones and keep an eye on the ground. Find something to climb!" he called, sombre in his voice as per norm, though a seriousness was no intertwined within it.
|16| October: 32 Fléau: 4 (1/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 29, 2019 11:53:33 GMT -6
Flare listened to Eevane's words as he examined the inside of the bush. Feeling a halved leaf between two fingers, a relatively thick leaf that took a lot of abuse to break down with the elements, but easily bent and broken if repeated. The branches were thick and barky, with no sign of new growth; not in this area. The creestals in the dark caves? Magic? If he paused to think about it, it did start to make some sense. He'd experienced a strong reaction to the crystal Darkee found in the caves; then he found himself with four blue crystals that he promptly sold to get away from himself. Every touch of a magical object, something strong and ...physical like that, he had bad things happen to him. With the light and the plate... the meat? The experience washes over his thought process briefly. A faint... static zap with the touch of the plate, and a similar sensation with the light that freed his mind. "Leetle sffark. Wear dead sheep, take off, much zap." He badly described a wool blanket that when removed left a staticy feeling that could transfer to other thigns. Touch other people/things, and you got a spark. "Here" he gestures with a free hand towards the wound that splits his face.
Before he had time to reach for the prizes, the two creatures scattered out of the bush as a rumble ran through the ground. Earthshake?! No. He could hear Eevane's bird thing screaming and flapping behind him as the drake stood up. Just before a rotting hand sprung out of the bush's soil and tried to snag his snout. Find something to climb?! Without meaning to, Flare turns around, his tail swiping over a few hands. They are torn from the earth with ease, left to wiggle and be smashed by Eevane's now glowing shovel. Climb? Climb what? 33 1.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 30, 2019 4:09:10 GMT -6
The answers he would have to ponder upon at a later time. Curious though he was there was a very real threat to life and health at present time, requiring his entire focus. Truthfully, was this not what he had come here to seek in the first place? To find the vile and the evil which inhabited the Mansion at these times and confront them? While the answer was certainly agreeable, the caveat to the statement was simple - he had not anticipated on company in such endeavour. Company who may, with great potential, come to harm in health or mind. However, a part of such fears were assuaged by the sight of the ssashirks turning around only to dismantle several of the arms with his very tail. Perhaps the other one was not nearly as defenceless as it appeared.
Flèau remained fluttering, refusing to perch and having little ability to, as the lepus moved too much for stable standing. He swung at another set of arms, and then another, more of the energy discharges flashing from the shovel's blade as its glow only intensified. "If you wish to leave now, I understand," he called between exertions, "Though, if there is nothing to climb, then perhaps these devilish things can be driver back by more direct measures." He paused to lean upon the shovel, the right foot moving to stamp on a set of fingers creeping too close for comfort.
|17| October: 34 Fléau: 4 (2/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 30, 2019 9:51:37 GMT -6
If he were anywhere else, the disembodied voice that echoed through Flare's mind as his tail broke the grabbings apart probably would've set him on edge. {How does it feel, using your own body as a weapon} Weapon? A pause, just briefly. But the hands didn't stop coming, stop grabbing. A growl rippled in the ssashirk's throat as he tried to do a sharper turn, swiping his tail along the ground again. It wasn't hard, it wasn't fast; but it seemed effective in snapping dead wrists. {Look at the fool; he's radiating with the magic and won't use it save for his exorcing blade} the voice taunted towards Eevane, who exerted to break apart the hoard of hands with... discharges from the shovel? Now he was really curious. Though since Eevane didn't turn and ask if he heard anything strange, this must just be in his own mind. {Don't fight your instincts. Ssashirk are proud and strong for a reason. They are not defenseless; and you are no exception} He swept at the hands in another direction, wings flared to intimidate, but an impassive look still upon his maw. "Tail worksss." he tells Eevane but sees no tail on the other. Tall in ear, but not in tail. Did he even possess a tail? 35 7.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 31, 2019 3:37:54 GMT -6
Indeed, the presence of strange voices in one's head would have been a direly concerning topic, were the lepus aware of it. As things were, he had neither inclination nor notion about it. The arms continued to grab and he stood his ground, picking up the shovel to swing once more. Some would have claimed such to be an inelegant weapon, a mere worker's tool, a yard implement. Such people would have been shocked to realize a scythe was considered ineffective in the hands of a warrior, yet still wield deadly efficiency in the hands of a farmer. His profession was to give souls their final rest, their peace and to bury the dead. And by the gods, he will make sure they remained buried.
The bird circled him, screeching and crawing still, though the fluttering was drawing closer to trying to find a place to land. Flèau was not yet fully grown into her wings and tended to tire easily. The lepus was a source of constant motion, swinging the shovel at any arms which stuck too close. Perhaps it merely appeared to him so, but he thought to see the number of new arms breaking through the earth grow lesser. Among the melee there were glances towards the ssashirk, to verify the other was safe as well. It had become, in a strange sense, his responsibility, after all. And yet there was mild surprise in seeing the ssashirk easily handle his own patch of devils, via tail. Simple, yet effective. "Bloody good show, sir," he intoned in that low voice, a tad coy. On the subject of one's tails, there was indeed none visible on the lepus. Given his specific mammalian inheritance, however, it was quite likely the tail was simply too small to see.
|18| October: 36 Fléau: 4 (3/5)
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