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  1. - Top - End - #1081
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    [Hunting Grounds]

    Rather than falling straight forward onto One, the demon will instead fall more onto its left side. Depending on how One is positioned, hopefully this will minimize any harm he might undergo.
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  2. - Top - End - #1082
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Hunting Grounds- Desert

    More 'redirect' than 'minimize'. One won't be using those limbs on the side the Fyarl landed on, that's for sure, not for a good long while. But he's alive. Almost wasn't, but almost doesn't count.

    If the demon looks likely to tip over again, First'll give it another shove, make sure it doesn't smother One. Then he grabs his knife and sets to work. The mucus got on his brother's face as well. Not a lot, a thin coat, but enough to block One's breath unless something is done.

    'Something' means taking the knife to One's face. Hacking and chipping away at the disgusting, frozen crust suffocating the poor bastard, cutting along the mouth, opening the airway. First does his best to make it a clean cut but there's no helping a few mistakes, not when he's got to work fast.

    Who knows how they're going to get One's arms and legs freed up.
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  3. - Top - End - #1083
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    Quote Originally Posted by Harnel View Post
    A dream will come to Adir while he sleeps in the cold of death. A woman, an image of a perfect lithe hunter. Adir will find himself resting in the grass; everything seems fuzzym dreamlike in it's quality, and she stands over him, wearing nothing but durable leathers and bearing a bow on her back.

    She kneels down to him a whispers, "A stag, turned to predator. such an amusing thing. Tell me stag, do you wish to hunt further? To return to your woman with tales of the beasts you've slain, and trophies to hang within your den?"
    Adir's eyes slowly open, as though waking from a deep sleep. He stares up at the huntress, a white fire in his dreaming eyes.

    So. He's dead. That... no. That isn't right. He's supposed to live forever. Like his father.

    "Yes," he says hoarsely, still trying to wrap his head around the enormity of the situation. He certainly can't stay here and leave his family all alone. Despite his love for the hunt, Sakura and Laela are more important. In this being's presence, though, those thoughts seem almost blasphemous.
    Last edited by Murkus; 2012-07-09 at 11:44 AM.
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  4. - Top - End - #1084
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    "Then Continue your hunt, Stag. May you always find your prey." and the dream fades to darkness.

    Adir should find himself waking up within the confines of a small dark cave. There's nothing here, but it's cozy, warm, and safe. He's safe here, until he sees fit to leave and begin his hunt anew.
    Last edited by Halae; 2012-07-09 at 02:28 PM.
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  5. - Top - End - #1085
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Pond
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    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post
    Pond

    Not much more. Mateo did break a few bones when he was shapeshifting, and they won't heal. It was a last-ditch attempt, and it didn't work. Mateo will be crushed, eventually to the point where he's effectively decapitated and, hence, really dead.


    Really, really dead. Not even mostly dead. Just plain old dead.

    Mateo's corpse is crumbled with a cacophony of crunches. The pod of pondweed containing him rises out of the murky water, half the size it was when it first surrounded the vampire. Blood leaks out the overlaps as it is deposited on the rocky shore. Shortly after, the siren climbs out of the water and kneels down in front of it, licking her lips as she raises her coral knife.

    Elsewhere

    When Mateo regains consciousness, he is laying face-down on a red carpet. The carpet is exactly a few inches wider than his armspan, giving him more than ample room. On either side of the carpet is a cobblestone floor, stretching out a few feet on either side before stopping at walls made from logs. Should he look up, he will see that the carpet leads to the far side of the hall. Standing at the end of it is a woman clad in brass and gold armour, with a white silk drape across her shoulder. She carries a long-spear in her right hand. Her left, however, is covering a bowl of red-hot coals; fire dancing up through the gaps in her fingers. Perfectly still, the Goddess watches Mateo judgingly.

    Swamp
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    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    Wenomir sighs. Well, his feverish imagination is right. He needs to keep moving. He breathes in deeply and resumes his walk deeper into the swamp.


    No present danger rises up to challenge Wenomir. Soon enough, the demon' hunter's trek leads him to a small grove that opens up around the path. The ground here is much more stable. As he enters it Wenomir can feel his head beginning to clear, as well as the chills that wrack his body subside. Once he feels better, he will notice that there are two objects on either side of the grove.

    Hanging suspended from a gnarled, leafless branch is a cloak as black as night. It's somewhat transparent - he can make out the tree behind it, but only just barely. It gently wafts in the breeze like a curtain, for all appearances having the texture and tactile qualities of silk. But should Wenomir observe it closer, he will discover that the fabric is actually made of two layers of impossibly thin and small scales.

    On the other side, placed upon a tree stump that's mostly charcoal, is a leather belt-pouch. Inside the pouch are five spherical glass bottles, with no seam or readily apparent method of opening. Inside the bottles is a black and silver dust, shimmering like stars in the night sky despite the gloomy light.

    Which does Wenomir approach first?

    Hoodoo Forest
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    Quote Originally Posted by Terumitsu View Post
    [Hoodoo Forest]

    ...Or at least that was what it looked like from a certain perspective. The noonday sun beat down exactly like a photonic hammer as the whispering heat shook the air, reflecting the sky in places to taunt the thirsty and the lost. A particularly feral wolf lay on it's side in a patch of sun, red fur dirtied by the dust and sand. It was odd for a wolf to be out alone without specific reasons. Usually these sorts were the elderly who had been forced out as a weak link by the pack or the young and bold sort looking for new territory. Though often not as adept at bringing down large game due to a lack of a pack, such wolves were known to be notably stronger and more aggressive in comparison to their more social kin.

    This would normally be an animal to give a wide berth if not for the fact that it was dead. Or at least not breathing. Very occasionally, though, an ear would twitch or a paw would lightly scrape at the ground. It wouldn't take a brilliant mind to guess that there was an undead lying there but it would be rather odd for any undead to be sleeping. Unless it was just a reanimated animal that was simply operating on instinct, then there would probably be reason enough to be cautious at the very least. Or attack head on, if one thought that was a good idea.


    The hoodoo pillars rise up around the wolf like the jagged teeth of some massively mawed creature. It's quite hot here, and the shadows cast by the sun are quick to move - each its own sundial.

    Small lizards aren't an odd sight this close to the desert. They skitter over the pillars; sunning themselves on the tops or hiding in the shadowy crevasses between rocks. Others hold perfectly still, their only movement lashes of their long, sticky tongues to catch the buzzing flies that drone through the air.

    Large lizards aren't an odd sight here in the Hunting Grounds. This one in particular is large enough to wrap almost completely around one of the larger stone pillars that make up the hoodoo forest. At first glance it appears to be some mix between an iguana and a wild boar. Its green-grey scales are thick and bear a fair share of scars. Twin fringes of spines runs along the crown of its head, converging at the top of its neck to run in a single line between its shoulder-blades, along it's spine and down to the tip of its tail. Each spine is at the bottom, as thick as a human's wrist and at the top, as thin as the tip of a pen. They curve backwards, as if to discourage mounters. Sticking out of its lower jaw are two large tusks that curve forward, pointed and made for charging. From it's nose to the base of its tail, the beast is easily six feet long - and it's tail is easily over half that. Despite it's massive size and likely massive weight, it seems to have no trouble supporting itself on the hoodoo.

    It opens its mouth to taste the air with its tongue, revealing a row of sharp, carnivorous teeth. When it tastes something unusual in the air, it opens one of its eyelids and allows its yellow eye to swivel around until it spots the source of the smell. Some sort of mammal, asleep in its territory.

    How unseemly.
    How curious.

    Almost soundlessly, the iguana-beast scurries down from its perch. It weaves through the hoodoo pillars, coming to an abrupt stop several feet away from the wolf. Crouched low, it pulls back its head. When it lashes out, a rainbow-coloured frill opens up from behind its head and a horrible, high pitched hiss resounds from between the needle-sharp teeth it now has barred.

    Tar Pits

    Somewhere between the swamp and the shore, there is a cluster of pools of tar, riddled between narrow ridges of stone. The air is humid and smells of decay - sometimes, the ebb and flow of the tar reveals unidentifiable skeletons covered in the black ooze.

    Mercutio walks along one such ridge, studying the pools of tar. He walks with his hands tucked behind his back - not taking notes, just observing. Above him, an orange and pink bird circles in the air, all luxurious feathers and long, graceful limbs and neck.

    This place, Mercutio thought to himself, was fascinating. There was some energy here, some sort of magical energy, that seemed to resound with him. Within him. While he wouldn't care to live here, it was as if the natural forces of the land had been honed to his every need. A smile pulls at his dark-blue lips, full of triumph and satisfaction.

    Yes.
    Yes, this would do.

    Dropping down to one knee, Mercutio digs his fingers into the stone ridge and pries free a small shard. It's warm in his palm from the tar. Carefully balancing, he reaches down and dips the stone into the tar. He lets it coat the rock about half-way, before pulling back up and rising to his feet. He holds the rock in his fingers, memorizing every detail, before tossing it up into the air. It rotates once, twice, then vanishes.
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  6. - Top - End - #1086
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Quote Originally Posted by Harnel View Post
    "Then Continue your hunt, Stag. May you always find your prey." and the dream fades to darkness.

    Adir should find himself waking up within the confines of a small dark cave. There's nothing here, but it's cozy, warm, and safe. He's safe here, until he sees fit to leave and begin his hunt anew.
    Adir jolts awake, extremely apprehensive about the whole thing. It takes him a moment to realize what the goddess said, and what she did for him. In his heart, he is deeply grateful, and she will likely know this.

    For now, however, he's had enough hunting. The stag will return another day, courageous and ready to fight, provided Sakura doesn't kill him for dying on a hunt. With that, he leaps from the cave and hurries home, quite desperate to see his family again.

    Though this day has given him something to think about: perhaps a new animal companion is in order. He's come out of retirement, regained some of his old powers over the woodland. A beast, some great lizard or gorilla, would've been useful in the battle against Tovpir. Maybe he'll have a look on the way home...
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  7. - Top - End - #1087
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    [Hoodoo Forest]

    It could generally be said that most hissing or noise-making would be ineffective in rousing the dead. Really, there would be few things short of pain that could shake such a being out of its slumber. Rather than due to being a heavy sleeper, it was the effects of the same curse that allowed the undead thing to still walk. Or perhaps it was less a curse at all and simply a weakening of that power.

    Whatever the reason, the wolf didn't appear to pay any sort of heed that it was in someone else's territory. Then again, it was rather difficult to play less heed when one wasn't even cognizant of the issue at all.

    However, given the close proximity of the reptile, some things did seem to get through. A very light twitch of the wolf's nose indicated that much at least.
    Last edited by Terumitsu; 2012-07-11 at 07:55 PM.

  8. - Top - End - #1088
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Quote Originally Posted by ThirdEmperor View Post
    Hunting Grounds- Desert

    More 'redirect' than 'minimize'. One won't be using those limbs on the side the Fyarl landed on, that's for sure, not for a good long while. But he's alive. Almost wasn't, but almost doesn't count.

    If the demon looks likely to tip over again, First'll give it another shove, make sure it doesn't smother One. Then he grabs his knife and sets to work. The mucus got on his brother's face as well. Not a lot, a thin coat, but enough to block One's breath unless something is done.

    'Something' means taking the knife to One's face. Hacking and chipping away at the disgusting, frozen crust suffocating the poor bastard, cutting along the mouth, opening the airway. First does his best to make it a clean cut but there's no helping a few mistakes, not when he's got to work fast.

    Who knows how they're going to get One's arms and legs freed up.
    The demon's convulsions are before less frequent, and the scent of burning flesh becoming stronger. The creature's form does contort in a way that would have smothered One, were it not for the fact that First pushed the massive beast again to prevent it.

    Breathing is becoming more shallow, the head having nearly fully collapsed in on itself. It seems that the creature has only a minute or two of life left.
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  9. - Top - End - #1089
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Elsewhere

    Mateo scrambles to his feet and bows deeply to the Goddess before straightening and peeking around at the chamber. The latter action is an ingrained survival instinct rather than intended impertinence; Mateo has lived in the wilderness and hunted travellers, bandits and monsters for over seventy years, and vampires aren't well-adapted for rural existence.
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  10. - Top - End - #1090
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Desert

    A minute or two is a bit long to leave an enemy suffering, even if it did nearly kill two of his brothers. Lifting up one heavy combat boot, First brings it down on the Fyarl's skull, trying to force the lighter deeper and finish the job.
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  11. - Top - End - #1091
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    Cliffside

    Jakob sits, dangling two thick legs over the edge of the cliff as he looks out to the setting sun. He has tried, failed, and tried anew to recapture the spirit of battle, war, and carnage he felt in days of old. He has failed to become a warrior to be respected in this land, or a monster to be feared. This last path, that of the world ender, is a slow one, and one he regrets.

    But it is the path he must tread, or be left to wallow in victories and defeats of the past.

    So this day, he does not wade into battle. He has bargained with flesh-smiths for a new weapon, and now he waits, reveling in the scent of nearby combat, for its arrival, or their negative response.
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  12. - Top - End - #1092
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Elsewhere
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    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post
    Elsewhere

    Mateo scrambles to his feet and bows deeply to the Goddess before straightening and peeking around at the chamber. The latter action is an ingrained survival instinct rather than intended impertinence; Mateo has lived in the wilderness and hunted travellers, bandits and monsters for over seventy years, and vampires aren't well-adapted for rural existence.


    The room Mateo finds himself in is perhaps less rural than he would expect. The walls are almost impossibly high, covered in elaborate hand-woven tapestries. Each shows some battle scene. Great warriors clash in one-on-one battles, massive armies struggle against each other, heroes facing off against swarms of enemies.

    The Goddess watches Mateo, looking down upon him with hooded eyes and a deep frown. "Tell me, vampire, why I should not let you die."

    Tar Pits

    Once the collection business is complete, Mercutio takes a moment to examine his surroundings. To the north, he can see the mist-shrouded trees of the swamp, all gnarled black branches like ink on canvas. To the south, the rocky ridges of the tar pits solidified into one long plateau which eventually dropped off to the beach. The ocean stretched off into the horizon, no doubt filled with all sorts of terrible leviathans. (For several moments, Mercutio wonders to himself how he would go about capturing such beasts.) To the east, great mountains stretched above, dropping off into sudden cliffs where they faced the ocean.

    One moment. What was that?

    Mercutio squints, peering up at one of the cliffs. There was a figure up there, sitting on the peak's edge. The figure was too far away to make out any details, but there was something... familiar about him.

    Frowning, Mercutio lifts his gaze to the sky. "Vashti!" he calls out, and is answered by a keening cry from above. The orange and pink bird of paradise circling in the air above him swoops down to land on his out-stretched arm. Lifting his other arm, Mercutio points at the figure sitting on the cliff. "Go say hello, dearheart."

    Cliffside
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    Quote Originally Posted by Slii Arhem View Post
    Cliffside

    Jakob sits, dangling two thick legs over the edge of the cliff as he looks out to the setting sun. He has tried, failed, and tried anew to recapture the spirit of battle, war, and carnage he felt in days of old. He has failed to become a warrior to be respected in this land, or a monster to be feared. This last path, that of the world ender, is a slow one, and one he regrets.

    But it is the path he must tread, or be left to wallow in victories and defeats of the past.

    So this day, he does not wade into battle. He has bargained with flesh-smiths for a new weapon, and now he waits, reveling in the scent of nearby combat, for its arrival, or their negative response.


    A far-off flapping of wings announces the presence of a visitor to Jakob before the bird that owns the wings shows up. An orange bird of paradise with pinkish-purple plumage soars up from beneath. It studies Jakob with intelligent green eyes, soaring around him in two wide circles.
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  13. - Top - End - #1093
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Quote Originally Posted by ThirdEmperor View Post
    Desert

    A minute or two is a bit long to leave an enemy suffering, even if it did nearly kill two of his brothers. Lifting up one heavy combat boot, First brings it down on the Fyarl's skull, trying to force the lighter deeper and finish the job.
    In that case, the beast dies. The lighter will continue to burn through the dead flesh until it reaches the ground underneath the demon's shattered skull. Yeah, this hunt definitely wasn't worth it for the Fyarl.

    Finbar breathes a sigh of relief. At least the main threat is taking care of. But he is still worrying about One and Alpha! Both of them took a pretty bad beating. "I am sorry. I should not have had us come here. This was a bad idea, very bad."
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  14. - Top - End - #1094
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    Quote Originally Posted by Moon_Called View Post
    Swamp


    No present danger rises up to challenge Wenomir. Soon enough, the demon' hunter's trek leads him to a small grove that opens up around the path. The ground here is much more stable. As he enters it Wenomir can feel his head beginning to clear, as well as the chills that wrack his body subside. Once he feels better, he will notice that there are two objects on either side of the grove.

    Hanging suspended from a gnarled, leafless branch is a cloak as black as night. It's somewhat transparent - he can make out the tree behind it, but only just barely. It gently wafts in the breeze like a curtain, for all appearances having the texture and tactile qualities of silk. But should Wenomir observe it closer, he will discover that the fabric is actually made of two layers of impossibly thin and small scales.

    On the other side, placed upon a tree stump that's mostly charcoal, is a leather belt-pouch. Inside the pouch are five spherical glass bottles, with no seam or readily apparent method of opening. Inside the bottles is a black and silver dust, shimmering like stars in the night sky despite the gloomy light.

    Which does Wenomir approach first?
    The warrior approaches the cloak slowly. He reaches out to touch it with his sword first.
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  15. - Top - End - #1095
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    Cliffside

    Jakob stares up at the intruder, noting the direction it came from, and following what he assumes was its path.

    North. He would go north, and find whoever would send this bird as messenger. It was no carrion eater, searching for a meal, and yet it encircled him with some intent. It was trained, or dangerous, and if he judged correctly, its trainer would be nearby.

    Jakob reaches behind him with a meaty fist and claws into the dirt with thick fingers. The blackened, moist soil yields, and he pulls a sword from underneath the thin layer he had scraped overtop it before, so as to appear unarmed to any who approached.

    Using the sword to support his bulk, he stands, and turns towards the north using the sun and his shadow as his compass, despite it hanging only a sliver to the west in the sky.

    Then he begins to stalk, tarry ground barely meriting a strained grunt as he pulls his feet free of each sink hole and moves onwards without deviation. Mercutio may more easily notice his massive, grim features as he comes closer, although the monster he faced on the beach those few days ago hasn't seemed to notice him yet, as Jakob is keeping his eyes to the ground for the time being.
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  16. - Top - End - #1096
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    Elsewhere

    "Because my kin don't hunt for sustenance; they tax it from their human subjects, and I hunt in the way vampires have since their genesis. Because hunting is what I live, well, unlive, for. Because I served You unknowingly for sixty nine years, ever since I abandoned mainstream vampire society. Because I have died once and I'm scared of what waits beyond. But in the end, it is not my choice to make, and I willingly abide by Your judgement." Mateo is unswervingly honest and hasn't even thought of lying. Partially because he stands before a Goddess, and suspects she may be able to detect lies, but mostly because the last time he lied to somebody more powerful than he they discovered his ruse and sent assassins after him, though he killed them easily and fled into the wilderness.
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  17. - Top - End - #1097
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    Edge of the Hunting Grounds

    A tall, thin man in a white lab coat approaches the edge of this deadly place. It made him nervous just being here, but his job naturally involved a certain amount of risk. The nature of his occupation can possibly be guessed by his companion, a twelve foot tall, hunched over monstrosity with a bright red rhino horn and three-foot claws growing from its overlarge arms. Namely, he is a maker of Monsters, here to test out his latest creation.

    Dr. Malice by name, the creature is the latest form of his Juggernacht experiment. An undead covered in bulletproof plating and with the strength of an elephant, it is one of his more effective creations. It has been outfitted with a camera built into its collar, designed to record everything it sees. The film is transmitted to a computer far away, where it can be viewed in safety. After the beast returns, or is finally destroyed by the other Hunters who frequent this place, the film will be analyzed in order to see how well the juggernacht does in combat. A nice project to do of an afternoon, eh?

    Releasing its coller, Dr. Malice points into the wasteland. "Kill." Without a moment's hesitation, the behemoth charges out into the hunting ground, looking for something to break.

    The Doctor watches for a minute or so, then hurries away. Wouldn't want to be caught out here himself, after all.
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  18. - Top - End - #1098
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    Hoodoo Forest
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    Quote Originally Posted by Terumitsu View Post
    [Hoodoo Forest]

    It could generally be said that most hissing or noise-making would be ineffective in rousing the dead. Really, there would be few things short of pain that could shake such a being out of its slumber. Rather than due to being a heavy sleeper, it was the effects of the same curse that allowed the undead thing to still walk. Or perhaps it was less a curse at all and simply a weakening of that power.

    Whatever the reason, the wolf didn't appear to pay any sort of heed that it was in someone else's territory. Then again, it was rather difficult to play less heed when one wasn't even cognizant of the issue at all.

    However, given the close proximity of the reptile, some things did seem to get through. A very light twitch of the wolf's nose indicated that much at least.


    Ignoring the giant tusked reptile screaming in your face? Probably not a good idea. And the reptile seems to be rather irritated by it. It walks around the wolf in a slow circle, scuffing pebbles and stones as it moves.

    With a dinousarian grunt, the massive iguana shoves its tusks under the sleeping dog and attempts to roll it over.
    Maybe it was dead? Free lunch!

    Swamp
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    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    The warrior approaches the cloak slowly. He reaches out to touch it with his sword first.


    Once Wenomir approaches the cloak, the pouch of grenades fades away into wisps of black smoke.

    Closer inspection of the cloak reveals that it's made of the same scales as the fish he defeated earlier. It also appears to be quite fragile - just the nick from prodding it with his word causes a small tear to open in the materiel. However, he may be surprised to notice that the tip of his blade vanishes as a fold of the cloak drapes over it.

    Tar Pits
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    Quote Originally Posted by Slii Arhem View Post
    Cliffside

    Jakob stares up at the intruder, noting the direction it came from, and following what he assumes was its path.

    North. He would go north, and find whoever would send this bird as messenger. It was no carrion eater, searching for a meal, and yet it encircled him with some intent. It was trained, or dangerous, and if he judged correctly, its trainer would be nearby.

    Jakob reaches behind him with a meaty fist and claws into the dirt with thick fingers. The blackened, moist soil yields, and he pulls a sword from underneath the thin layer he had scraped overtop it before, so as to appear unarmed to any who approached.

    Using the sword to support his bulk, he stands, and turns towards the north using the sun and his shadow as his compass, despite it hanging only a sliver to the west in the sky.

    Then he begins to stalk, tarry ground barely meriting a strained grunt as he pulls his feet free of each sink hole and moves onwards without deviation. Mercutio may more easily notice his massive, grim features as he comes closer, although the monster he faced on the beach those few days ago hasn't seemed to notice him yet, as Jakob is keeping his eyes to the ground for the time being.


    The bird of paradise returns to Mercutio, alighting on his offered fore-arm. Well?" asks the devil, although he hardly expects an answer from the bird. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to get a read on the magical energies she'd picked up circling around the guest. It was familiar, in a way that scent a chill down his spine that some of the greatest demons in hell had failed to induce.

    Opening his eyes, Mercutio frowns. "Good girl," he mutters.
    A second encounter already? He hadn't planned for this to happen so soon. He wasn't ready. Mercutio was stronger, he knew more spells. But before he fought the brute, he needed to be stronger.

    He needed to win.

    Mercutio disappears, replaced by a slowly expanding cloud of bitter blue sulphuric smoke.

    Elsewhere
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    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post
    Elsewhere

    "Because my kin don't hunt for sustenance; they tax it from their human subjects, and I hunt in the way vampires have since their genesis. Because hunting is what I live, well, unlive, for. Because I served You unknowingly for sixty nine years, ever since I abandoned mainstream vampire society. Because I have died once and I'm scared of what waits beyond. But in the end, it is not my choice to make, and I willingly abide by Your judgement." Mateo is unswervingly honest and hasn't even thought of lying. Partially because he stands before a Goddess, and suspects she may be able to detect lies, but mostly because the last time he lied to somebody more powerful than he they discovered his ruse and sent assassins after him, though he killed them easily and fled into the wilderness.


    If Mateo has convinced the Goddess at all, she doesn't show it. Staring down at him, she stands unmoving, her hand still covering the coals. "Do you know why you are here, little vampire?" The Goddess asks. "You made a mistake in that fight. You should have won it. What did you do wrong?"
    Last edited by Mr. Moon; 2012-07-12 at 09:39 PM.
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  19. - Top - End - #1099
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    [Swamp]

    Wenomir frows and tries to pull the sword away, very gently, so as to avoid tearing up the cloak. He's not sure if it's another trap.
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    Default Re: [Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

    Quote Originally Posted by C'nor View Post

    [Forest]


    Well. Not a Grovemind, then. Not that the Leannan has any clue what it is, but that's valuable information, sort of. And since it seems to be an entity instead, that should make somewhat less difficult, or at least difficult in different ways, to kill it.

    So, using the splitting tree behind her, where the boundaries between hawthorn, tree, and air blur together, she tweens through the Hedge, reappearing a moment later in the uppermost branches of the treant, where the head would be on a human, holding a pair of half-empty wineskins, both with a lit fuse in them, which she drops into the bole of the treant, before, unless it can somehow stop her, tweening out again, this time into the limbs of one of the trees currently in the process of being torn apart.

    The wineskins, meanwhile, should, after a few seconds, when the rather intense flame on the fuse reaches the alcohol fume/air mixture in each of them, explode, possibly doing some damage directly, though that's not terribly likely, and almost certainly sending burning wine (or, more precisely, burning spirits of wine, which is rather more concentrated, and thus burns better) all over the treant.
    *Pokes TE*

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    Swamp

    Wenomir's right! The cloak explodes into fifty-three thousand and two tentacles dripping with poison bear acid toxins. Each tentacle grips three different impaling, slashing and bludgeoning devices, as well as what appears to be a heavy bolter. From the bulb of the cluster, a horrible demon's head rises to leer at Wenomir and shoot lasers from his eyes and nostrils at him. All the while, Never Gonna Give You Up plays in the background, sung by a thousand gorgons.

    ...

    Goddammit Wenomir it's a cloak. It does cloaky things. It hangs on the branch wafting gently in the breeze and being all pretty and stuff. =I
    Last edited by Mr. Moon; 2012-07-13 at 03:16 PM.
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    [Swamp]

    <.< Can't blame the guy for being careful. Especially in a place like this one. And after being wracked with hallucinations.
    Either way, Wenomir tries to remove the cloak from the branch and examine it more thoroughly.
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    Elsewhere

    "I let my instincts rule my thoughts and dived into the pond when I knew that... Whatever-it-was could control the pondweed and wrap me up and, more importantly, already knew my tricks." Mateo bows his head as he speaks, though he thinks he's learnt his lesson and is not embarrassed by mistakes when he can learn from them instead.
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    [Hoodoo Forest]

    It's hard to ignore something when one isn't even cognizant of the thing to be ignored. Still, being moved about did appear to get a bit of a rise from the dead wolf. Partially due to the fact that it was probably difficult to flip things over with tusks without poking the thing in question. And Pain was normally a good way to get something's attention.

    Still, it would be as if the wolf was deeply drunk if one watched it's movements while it tried to stand up. It took at least two attempts for it to get to it's feet, panting all the while. It was weakened by the sunlight so each motion took more effort.

    The wolf would eye the grand lizard, gauging if it should stand it's ground or run off to safer grounds... But that was behind a haze of hunger that urged it to attack. To bite. To drink the sweet sanguine elixir in the beast's veins. And it was getting harder to resist.

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    The Crag

    A thousand witches, a thousand worlds. They are masters of the wastes, of the wind and tide, of the cold and the dark. They wander in old places, over misty barrows, amidst tombstones without number or name. These places grant them power.

    One such place falls within the domain of the Huntress. And while She might lay claim, the Crag belonged to a witch long before it was Hers to take. Here, in a treacherous pass between two rocky wastelands, there is a fire pit. A young race of men would worship the witch here, soon after the Cycle began. These men are no more, and in the frozen earth itself, their bones can still be found. Only the Pit remains. Smoke rises from the Crag for the first time in a a great many years. Great, ugly crows fly to and from the Crag, carrying wood to be burnt.

    As they do so, the fire grows, a beacon to weary hunters or a challenge to those who yet live. It makes no difference to the witch. This fire is situated in a small, rocky bowl at the edge of the Crag, up a steep hill blanketed in fresh snow. Even in the height of summer, this place is cold as the Void.
    Last edited by Murkus; 2012-07-14 at 06:59 AM.
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    Swamp
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    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    [Swamp]

    <.< Can't blame the guy for being careful. Especially in a place like this one. And after being wracked with hallucinations.
    Either way, Wenomir tries to remove the cloak from the branch and examine it more thoroughly.


    Wenomir has gained one (1) Cloak of Invisibility! It drapes over his hands, hiding them from sight. It might be somewhat disconcerting to the demon slayer - his arms suddenly stopping at his elbows, nothing but mist where his hands should be. Holding it in his hands, Wenomir becomes aware of some of its properties. For instance, it only works on sentient creatures. When worn by or placed on non-sentient animals, objects or plants, it will appear exactly as it did when hanging from the tree. However when it is worn by sentient creatures, it can't be deactivated unless it's taken off. It's too fragile to be wadded up and stuffed in a pocket, but carefully folding it and putting it in a back or sack is a sufficient way to store it between uses. Because it's so fragile, wearing it in combat is probably not the best of ideas. If it takes too much damage it'll stop working.

    Elsewhere
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    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post
    Elsewhere

    "I let my instincts rule my thoughts and dived into the pond when I knew that... Whatever-it-was could control the pondweed and wrap me up and, more importantly, already knew my tricks." Mateo bows his head as he speaks, though he thinks he's learnt his lesson and is not embarrassed by mistakes when he can learn from them instead.


    "A true hunter fights with both intelligence and instinct. He must allow neither to over-ride him. He must always be in control of his actions. You lost control of your actions."

    For several long minutes, the Goddess looks down upon Mateo with an unwavering and thoughtful expression. Finally, she speaks.

    "There are many powerful beasts in my domain. To an unskilled hunter, they are deadly and should be avoided. But to a true hunter, they are merely a challenge. If you are a true hunter, Vampire, then you will be able to slay one of these beasts. I will grant you three days and three nights in my domain. If you die during that time, you will die forever. If you survive, you will return to me at the end. You will tell me of your victories, show me your trophies. You will prove to me that you are a true hunter. Are you capable of this, Vampire?"

    Hoodoo Forest
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    Quote Originally Posted by Terumitsu View Post
    [Hoodoo Forest]

    It's hard to ignore something when one isn't even cognizant of the thing to be ignored. Still, being moved about did appear to get a bit of a rise from the dead wolf. Partially due to the fact that it was probably difficult to flip things over with tusks without poking the thing in question. And Pain was normally a good way to get something's attention.

    Still, it would be as if the wolf was deeply drunk if one watched it's movements while it tried to stand up. It took at least two attempts for it to get to it's feet, panting all the while. It was weakened by the sunlight so each motion took more effort.

    The wolf would eye the grand lizard, gauging if it should stand it's ground or run off to safer grounds... But that was behind a haze of hunger that urged it to attack. To bite. To drink the sweet sanguine elixir in the beast's veins. And it was getting harder to resist.


    The lizard jerks back once the wolf moves, skittering back several metres. So the mammal was alive. It's flat, thin tongue flickers in and out between its teeth, tasting the air. What was this strange creature so crassly sleeping in its territory? It moved like a living beast yet it smelled like carrion.

    Whatever it was, the iguana had no desire for it to stay. It didn't trust its meat enough for a meal, but if it stayed than the iguana would have to drive it out itself. A second time, the iguana stretches its neck out, and hisses loudly. The multi-coloured fan of skin behind its neck unfolds, making it look even larger.

    Final warning.

    The Crag
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    Quote Originally Posted by Murkus View Post
    The Crag

    A thousand witches, a thousand worlds. They are masters of the wastes, of the wind and tide, of the cold and the dark. They wander in old places, over misty barrows, amidst tombstones without number or name. These places grant them power.

    One such place falls within the domain of the Huntress. And while She might lay claim, the Crag belonged to a witch long before it was Hers to take. Here, in a treacherous pass between two rocky wastelands, there is a fire pit. A young race of men would worship the witch here, soon after the Cycle began. These men are no more, and in the frozen earth itself, their bones can still be found. Only the Pit remains. Smoke rises from the Crag for the first time in a a great many years. Great, ugly crows fly to and from the Crag, carrying wood to be burnt.

    As they do so, the fire grows, a beacon to weary hunters or a challenge to those who yet live. It makes no difference to the witch. This fire is situated in a small, rocky bowl at the edge of the Crag, up a steep hill blanketed in fresh snow. Even in the height of summer, this place is cold as the Void.


    Mercutio appears at the edge of the Crag in a puff of blue, sulphuric smoke. For a few moments he stands in place, resting after teleporting so far. As he takes his brief repose, he surveys the land cautiously. Curiously. Vashti the bird of paradise rests on his shoulder, her beautiful orange and pink tail running down his back.

    How very interesting. This place was ancient. It felt ancient, looked ancient. The ambient energy was different than the rest of this plane, too. Much colder. More like home. It was like a little bubble of air inside a sealed orb of water.

    The smoke wafting up from the bottom was curious, too. There were several reasons it might be there. It could be a wildfire, but it was too small and contained for that. So perhaps it was some young mortal, full of bravado and swagger, come to the Hunting Grounds to prove his strength to a girl back home. So young and inexperienced that he doesn't even realize that the fire he has built to warm himself in the bitter cold is a beacon to other more experienced hunters. Or perhaps whoever built it wanted to draw attention from others. And that was what intrigued Mercutio the most.

    With one final look around, Mercutio makes his way down the mountain range and into the bowl at the bottom.
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    [Swamp]

    So, a cloak of invisibility. Interesting. Wenomir has never been good at stealth, but this looks like it might be useful. He's not terribly fond of magic items though, so he'll only use it when necessary. He folds it carefully, takes it in his hand and decides that he's had enough excitement for one trip. He goes back the way he came, towards Watchtower.
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    Elsewhere

    "Yes, I see that now, and I shall try not to let it happen again. I shall try my hardest to earn life, oh Huntress." Mateo slowly inclines his head, wondering what the creatures are and if he truly can defeat them. Hopefully they won't be as effective against him as they are against a mortal hunter.
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  29. - Top - End - #1109
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    Quote Originally Posted by Moon_Called View Post
    The Crag

    Mercutio appears at the edge of the Crag in a puff of blue, sulphuric smoke. For a few moments he stands in place, resting after teleporting so far. As he takes his brief repose, he surveys the land cautiously. Curiously. Vashti the bird of paradise rests on his shoulder, her beautiful orange and pink tail running down his back.

    How very interesting. This place was ancient. It felt ancient, looked ancient. The ambient energy was different than the rest of this plane, too. Much colder. More like home. It was like a little bubble of air inside a sealed orb of water.

    The smoke wafting up from the bottom was curious, too. There were several reasons it might be there. It could be a wildfire, but it was too small and contained for that. So perhaps it was some young mortal, full of bravado and swagger, come to the Hunting Grounds to prove his strength to a girl back home. So young and inexperienced that he doesn't even realize that the fire he has built to warm himself in the bitter cold is a beacon to other more experienced hunters. Or perhaps whoever built it wanted to draw attention from others. And that was what intrigued Mercutio the most.

    With one final look around, Mercutio makes his way down the mountain range and into the bowl at the bottom.
    Out here, there's three sounds - the crackle of the fire ahead, the shrieking crows in the sky above, and the crunching snow beneath Mercutio's feet. Nothing more. He'll see, as he makes his way down, a silhouette sitting by the fire, casting strange and malformed shadows. On the cliffs at his right, crows begin to gather, watching he and his lovely bird with greedy little eyes.

    When he finally arrives at the bowl, he'll have to watch his step - the bones of ancient men poke from the ground like knives. The witch is sitting with her back to him, hugging her knees against her body for warmth.

    Her skin is pale. Black, gnarled hair runs down her mostly naked back, and the teeth of great beasts are bound by her knotted locks. Here and there, stranger things are tangled in the mess - a pearl necklace, a dream-catcher, a compass with a broken face. A cleaver, perhaps a piece of bone bound to an obsidian blade, rests at her side. She waits in the cold for him to speak, shadows playing across him in reverent silence.
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    Elsewhere

    "Very well," says the Goddess. She lifts her hand, uncovering the golden bowl of burning coals. It stands on a column beside her with four prongs, high up enough that she can easily slip her hand underneath it. She holds it out for Mateo.

    "Take one and swallow."

    The Craig

    "Hello, child." Mercutio comes to a stop several metres behind the witch. His hand rests on the spine of his spell-book but if he had any intention of summoning his cloud-rams, he would have already. He looks around curiously, but if he shows any distaste at the mess or the girl's dishevelled state, he doesn't show it. "May I sit by your fire?"
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