Pax RP

<span style="display:block;text-align:center">Directory

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• Fall from Grace
• Such Generous Hands
• A Modest Proposal
• Killing with Kindness
• Sacrifice for the Short Term
• ...
• ...

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<big>Fall from Grace</big>

The arctic breeze could not sooth the crackling tension in the midst. Four of the lounging adventurers had yet seen a sign of their comrades since departure past the tundra plain which laid ahead. Hours went by, Ascelin the knight cracked a few quips to spend time, though the only response pocketed were sounds sharpening of dull daggers. “... 'Could least crack a smile. Those bandages never sealed that charm, Vilma,†the man declared, only to beckon a near slice along his fur jacket from her thrown knife. Such precision could have drawn blood an inch further down.

“Perhaps you should go find that fairy and bother her instead,†the rogue changeling snarled. Congealed tightly beneath the bandages, the cursed oily obscured most of her visible flesh, apart from those wicked jade eyes locked straight into his own gaze. “They've been gone far too long... Not even sight of a rescue flare in the sky.â€

Despite the rude remark, Ascelin knew she spoke the agonizing truth. A normal hunt would not have taken them this long, even in Kata's uncharted regions. Triad formations sufficed usually with little to any difficulty. Him and fellow kin gathered the best mercenaries in their search; four prized adventurers of ones own right, adept in the roles devised. A strapping cleric capable of tapping in both his own large reserves of energy and celestial strength of distant worlds. This style complimented the outcast magician's techniques which drew from natural energy of the earth. Whilst both could be guarded safely in channeling by the fierce strength of Byron and resourceful nature gifted by Vilma.

“Dear brother... Not all Fir Bolg are so predictable.â€

The exhausted auburn woman rocked back and forth a top on her rustic chair. Loosened leggings lazily hung low, contrasting their maroon hue to the brighter red tunic. “Those burrowing bunch from the last fortnight refused to stay still,†Ingrid reminded her sibling. “Constantly darting back and forth out from the permafrost. Such childish antics.â€

Not the most inaccurate assumption, after all. When their group managed to encounter the twisted beings, very few were slain during capture. The thought reminded by occasional wails below deck of the beasts' plight. A job rewarded neither wealth nor fame, it was a task which rarely another dared to deal with. And thankless by the Fir Bolg themselves. Today, only Byron offered to quell their grief, utilizing a manner of potions concocted prior from the strange three siblings who hired him. “... Troubles souls, full of pain. Heralds art with thee. Of all lands thee inhabit art most blessed. Those blessed watchers cure thee of suffering. By most wondrous Mother, amen.†the ghastly warrior recited to the imprisoned wretches. His own pale complexion seemed to sooth worry, as if feeling kinship to the guard splashing holy water along their faces. Byron nearly shed a tear of blood from the prayer, wiping the stain beneath his pale blue eyes with a spare cloth.

<big>Such Generous Hands</big>

((Got distracted last night. Will finish up revision later today))

<big>A Modest Proposal</big>

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((Got distracted last night. Will finish up revision later today))

<big>Killing with Kindness</big>

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((Got distracted last night. Will finish up revision later today))

<big>Sacrifice for the Short Term</big>


“... It's the Bastarnae rebel...â€

The defeat of Sigrid did little stop the true threat from advancing from another world. None of them could muster even a budge against the might vitrum flexile chains, tethering their very being to the frozen earth. “Damn it,†the exhausted magician gasped. Erika sensed a corrupting influence attempting to burrow through to the depths of her soul. Such vile waves of energy washed down the arctic chain links, nearly masking the light in her eyes in an aurulent aura. “Can't them down...â€

Mustering what reserves of natural energy from her body, the compelled scythe broken down aways flung its blade in the sky. In the weakened state, aiming for the center of the storm would prove futile, but the outward winds... SNAP&#33;

“That's one...â€

Erika felt the lingering corruption wane as she shatter the chain at the middle link. The fairy clutched the bit of hilt from the shaft, holding tightly as she stumbled past the nearest invasive bindings. One, two, three... The magician could no longer stand as she freed Ingrid, Hermann, and Ascelin. Breath refused to stay consistent by the time she knelt straight into the snow. The others, no one had the strength in themselves to crawl forward. “... The others,†her shallow speech barely made a dent in dwindling storm, forced to bear witness as a new army revitalized itself from her fallen comrades. Mere pawns of flesh and bone for-

“Skathi... What has become of you?†Ingrid gasped, bracing herself atop the end of a severed Fir Bolg branch. “Your aura... It is... Sickening...â€

Arriving fully in the prime universe, the battle worn huldra stepped out from Sigrid's hollow back, throwing a strange woman off to the side from her shoulder. The demi-god's gaze burned with the intensity of foul magic gone afar, near symbolizing the wretched icons of lunar and solar forces in her right and left eye respectively. “Animals cowering at my feet... Desperate to gather and flee,†Skathi scolded the surviving four, beckoning the chained adventurers behind herself. “... Predators crave for prey they pursue... And this time, the predator is me&#33;â€

The deranged figure slammed both hands together, channeling her control through the reawakened vessels as they surged with vigor. Fir Bolg and friend alike stood alert to the compulsion of Saligia cascading through their veins. Byron grunted and billowed outward as his armor splintered into fallen shards, exposing the hulking minotaur behemoth standing two stories tall. Vilma collapsed briefly, just to spring up into an oily leviathan of great lengths, encircling the troupe of horror in her coils. Blood spluttering Evert expunged all his remorse from his sides and amphibious pores-whereas the Fir Bolg beside him merely grew twice in cursed size. All their minds in servitude to the will of Skathi Bastarnae; to however she saw fit for her purpose.