Shadows of Darkest Soul (An Elder Scrolls RP)

[NinjaGoddessAyra]

OOC: I apologize, I'm super out of it right now, so I really don't know what I'm doing. I just figured I'd post to keep this thing going :)

 

Ulfgar and Ayra, Molag Mar

 

Ulfgar saw the people he had met earlier that day on the ship fighting for their lives as he ran desperately to try and find help. He needed to save her, he wouldn't let her die.

 

As he turned the corner, he saw Adrynn telling the Imperial Caius to regroup. Without thinking he ran towards him and handed him Ayra.

 

"Please, make sure she stays safe. I'll take care these scum, just make sure she's okay."

 

And with that he hoisted his abnormally large battle axe and ran to engage the cultists head on.

[Zephyr2011]

Kriak, Redora Outpost, Molag Mar

 

Kriak bit his cheek a little before locking his jaw. He fumbled quite a bit with the buckles and laces on his boot. Eventually he freed his foot though. Upon seeing it he wasn't quite sure if that had been such a good idea, it was a very gruesome image. The bones were shattered, at least 5 compound fractures littered his foot, most with jagged protrusions of unrecognizable bones. About the only thing that identified the misshapen lump of flesh as a foot at all was the very swollen and malformed toes sticking off of it. "Do you think you can fix the damage?" Kriak asked Velanya, there was an almost pleading tone in his voice. He didn't have so much of a preference for what her answer was, though he would prefer to have his foot healed her way than his, but rather wanted an answer as soon as possible. The pain, for something Kriak was so often exposed to, was excruciating. He hadn't muffed himself up this bad in many years.

 

While the woodsman waited for a reply, his eyes darted around the interior, scanning as quickly as he could. He did not want another ambush, especially with his foot no longer held in a rough sort of shape by his boot. He would have a much harder time getting around than when it as still jammed in his crushed piece of armor. He hoped that Velanya could be swift with her healing.

[AurianaValoria1]

Velanya Therys, Molag Mar, Redoran Outpost

 

Velanya grimaced at Kriak's foot. This was not going to be easy at all. She shifted her weight from side to side for a few seconds before nodding grimly, "I can do it. I think. Just give me a minute or so."

 

She closed her eyes for a moment and drew upon her magicka reserves, then knelt and placed her hands on Kriak's mangled foot. She instantly felt the energy drain from her as the magic did its work...there was the awful sound of bones popping and snapping back into place. She watched as the muscle and sinew beneath the skin writhed and twisted back to their proper positions. Seconds passed like hours, and she was getting a throbbing headache...

 

...she finally halted the flow of magic, standing slowly and with a pronounced wobble. The Knight Errant put her hands to her head, "Oh, I shouldn't have done that..."

 

Glancing back down, she saw that Kriak's foot was completely healed. She offered the woodsman a wry smile, "Well...that fixed it, I think. Just..." she swayed again, sinking to her knees from lack of strength.

 

"...be more careful," she finished.

 

Velanya frowned. She was no good to anyone this weak. But now that Kriak was patched up, he could resume the fight - and he was a far mightier warrior than she.

 

 

Caius Cosades, Molag Mar

 

The Spymaster suddenly found himself carrying Ayra over one shoulder. The Dunmer was surprisingly lightweight.

 

He watched as Ulfgar abruptly charged into battle, fearless as all Nords were. He then jerked his head at Adrynn, "I'm well enough...see if they're all right in the outpost and if they can accomodate a wounded friend. Quickly now!"

 

 

Ivela Helothren, Molag Mar, Silt Strider Port

 

She was about to let her arrow fly when a large shape flew out of nowhere, beheading two of the cultists in one black-and-gold swipe. Ravos then put a quick end to the third, and the battle ended as suddenly as it had begun.

 

Their friend was another Ordinator, it seemed...

 

...an Ordinator with a violet scarf.

 

Ivela dropped her bow in disbelief, "Faeryn!"

 

He brushed past her to kneel beside Elam, "There's no time to explain. Ravos! Carry Kareth. Ivela, you help me with Elam. We need to get to the Temple. Now."

Edited December 11, 2012 by AurianaValoria1

[Zephyr2011]

Kriak, Redoran Outpost, Molag Mar

 

Kriak flexed his foot and curled his toes. Immensely thankful that the pain had subsided. Unfortunately he couldn't repay Velanya for the expended energy. She passed out to quickly for him to try giving her some of his, or part of a soul's essence. Unconscious people make for very fickle recipients of energy, they can either reject it and send it flailing about the room or, more likely in this case, feast upon it and over-gorge themselves on the energy having it rip them to pieces from the inside. Kriak would just rather keep Velanya safe until she had had time to rest. He cleaned his boot with a quick fire spell and worked it back into about the right shape before slipping it back on. He warmed the metal again with a firespell to mold it to his foot, a nice trick when one is immune to fire. "Sleep well fair knight. I thank you." Kriak muttered to Velanya as she drifted into slumber.

 

"Watch over them, I'll be back as soon as I can." Kriak said to the other elves before dashing up the steps to the doorway. The cult was no longer besieging the outpost but he could tell that the city was in utter chaos. Fires roared outside and screams rent the night air as the cultists assaulted the temple haven. Thankfully it seemed mostly contained to where the temple and Redoran presences were greatest. The cultists knew where the group was most likely to be but even with more contained fighting this was going to be a long night.

[darkedge42392]

Adrynn Indarys, Molag Mar

 

Adrynn nodded as he came up to Cauis, who was now bearing an unconscious and severely bleeding Arya. He stopped for a moment to glance at the wound. Her back was laid open to the bone from her left shoulder to her right hip. He was surprised she hadn't died yet. He could see the blood flowing from the wound, but his brand flashed momentarily, allowing him to see a phantom image. A web was holding her wound together. And it was writhing with dark purpose. Adrynn shook his head and the image disappeared. He didn't have time to think on that right now. He moved in front of Caius and ran to the Redoran Outpost, just as Kriak appeared from the doorway.

 

"Kriak! Where is our prisoner? Is everyone safe?" Adrynn asked, moving aside for Caius to get by him. After the Spymaster crossed the shattered doorframe, Adrynn heard the sounds of many armored feet headed their way.

 

He snarled in annoyance. "Damn these fools! They are getting on my nerves," he yelled, pulling his sword up into a ready position just as another six cultists appeared from the temple plaza. They stopped as they saw Adrynn and Kriak. The one in front stepped forward, extending his arm in parley. Adrynn only took a small step back, tightening his grip on the handle of his katana, it's dark blade shimmering dulling from the fire enchantment on it.

 

"Step aside, unbeliever. Lord Dagon has tasked me with reclaiming his prize, and you will not stop us!" the cultist said, a Daedric sword appearing in his hand. The others behind him summoned various bound weapons as well and stepped forward. Adrynn quickly surveyed his options. The Redoran Outpost was behind him, the wall to the Temple was on his left, the wall of Molag Mar was on his right, and he had Kriak beside him. They stood between these followers of Mehrunes Dagon and the still tainted Nerevarine. He was NOT going to let them get to him. There was no other option.

 

"Kriak, I hope you have had plenty of rest, because we are about to have some fun," Adrynn said, a grin crossing his face. The Mythic Dawn took his response as it was, a flat out refusal, and attacked, howling their praise to Dagon.

 

Garila Indarys, The Redoran Outpost, Molag Mar

 

Garila sighed as Kriak disappeared up the stairs. There went their one true source of protection. But she immediately shook aside that thought and bent to help Velanya.

 

"Velanya, are you alright?" She asked, wiping the sweat off of the Knight-Errant's brow and helping her sit down against the wall. She glanced back to the cell door as the crazed Incarnate slammed into it, screaming himself hoarse about how Dagon was going to claim their souls for what had been done to him. She kicked the door as hard as she could, her heel ringing against the iron.

 

"SHUT IT IN THERE!" she yelled back, her voice tinged with rage. The Nerevarine seemed to go quiet for a moment, before yelling and screaming again. Garila sighed and rubbed her forehead in annoyance. She was tired of this and severely pissed. She was ready for this mess to be over.

 

"My lady, if you'll excuse me," Elvas's gruff voice sounded beside her. She glanced up and saw he had kitted himself in bonemold and had a rather large claymore in his hands. She nodded and scooted over beside Velanya so he could pass. He nodded to her and stepped over to the bottom of the staircase, planting himself there so he could watch over anyone who tried to come down. She noticed he rested his sword lightly on the step in front of him, waiting...

[Zephyr2011]

Kriak, Redoran Outpost, Molag Mar

 

"The prisoner is secure. He's locked in a cell, probably screaming his head off about how these incompetent idiots are going to claim our souls." Kriak then spat on the ground with annoyance at the six newcomers. "Everyone is safe, Velanya passed out after healing my foot, but that's another story. First things first now, the one in the middle, the tall, mouthy one, he's mine." A sinister smile spread across Kriak's face. He flicked his wrists briefly and two darts of rich black flame shot forth towards the cultists on the perimeter. The blaze caught one full in the face sending him writhing in agony while the other cultist on the side was forced to step back as a great wall of dark flame erupted at his feet. Kriak drew his shortsword and dagger before rushing at the cultist in command.

 

The bound blade swung down quickly for a man or mer but not fast enough, Kriak glided under it with ease to deliver a counter strike on the cultist. Unfortunately The cultist could move as well as swing quickly, the assassin only managed to nick the armor near the armpit of his opponent. "You are no match for the might of lord Dagon!" the cultist bellowed.

 

"We will see about that." The two circled each other...

[AurianaValoria1]

Velanya Therys and Caius Cosades, Redoran Outpost, Molag Mar

 

Velanya could feel her head pounding as her eyes fluttered open. Garila's question had barely registered, and she nodded slowly, "I...I'll be fine..."

 

At that moment, the Spymaster came rushing into the room with the Dunmer girl, Ayra, over his shoulder. She was bleeding terribly, and his face was grim as he saw Velanya's condition, "Garila, I could use some help, here."

 

Faeryn Sethandas, Molag Mar

 

Ravos carried Kareth as easily as a sack of potatoes while Faeryn and Ivela supported Elam. As quickly as their feet could carry them, they evaded attackers and managed to get to the top level of the canton. There, Faeryn spied the man called Kriak and Adrynn embroiled in battle with more cultists. He motioned to two Bouyant Armigers, who had come out of their stronghold to lend their bows, "You two, take these wounded into the temple, now!"

 

He then readied his scimitar, "Ivela, you're with me. Let's finish this."

[darkedge42392]

Adrynn Indarys, Molag Mar

 

Adrynn's left arm extended, and a blast of lightning erupted from his palm, slamming into the cultists on the left, sending them staggering back, their armor buzzing with the electricity. He moved quickly to the right, his katana arcing with deadly purpose into the helm of a cultist, splitting both mask and skull underneath. He wrenched his blade free from the falling body and found himself dueling two cultists at once, both trying to avenge their brother. Adrynn waited, knowing their anger would undo them. Sure enough, one stepped too heavily into his swing and paid for it by losing first his arm, then his head. The second was smarter, and stepped away from Adrynn's feint to regroup with his fellows. Kriak was pushing the first few back with his characteristic dual wielding dagger and shortsword, obviously enjoying toying with the lead Mythic Dawn cultist.

 

Adrynn kept fighting, knowing that the sooner these fools died, the sooner he could get the Nerevarine to Azura's Shrine. Another cultist soon followed his brethren into the afterlife by trying to block Adrynn's upward slash, and ending up with no head as the Redoran suddenly reversed and twisted his strike. Adrynn glanced up and saw Faeryn appear with another Ordinator. He sighed mentally as he blocked a strike from the cultist before him.

 

Help has arrived.

 

Garila Indarys, Redoran Outpost, Molag Mar

 

Garila's eyes widened in horror as Caius appeared with the limp and severely bleeding body of the strange blue eyed Dunmer woman named Ayra. She leapt up and helped Caius set her down on a nearby table. She quickly scanned the wound. It was horrendous. A large diagonal slash mark had been sliced out of the Dunmer's back. Garila was surprised she hadn't died from blood loss alone. She quickly grabbed a nearby bottle of healing potion and poured it right into the wound. The liquid hissed and spat, but the flesh began to meld back together. Ayra groaned for a moment, but that was the only sound she made. Garila sighed and kept an eye on the wound. It was healing, but there was something under the skin that bugged Garila. Her brow furrowed as she pulled back the tattered remains of the armor and gasped. She couldn't believe what she saw.

[Zephyr2011]

Kriak, Molag Mar

 

As Kriak and the lead cultist circled one another they exchanged several blows, neither one connecting after their initial tangle. The slashes and stabs were deflected repeatedly by both sides. The cultist mocked the woodsman, "Hah, you cannot best me, I have the power of lord Dagon at my back! You tire while my arms and armor weigh nothing!" the Dunmer spat. Kriak replied with a dagger rather than words, he quickly tucked his dagger lower in his hand as he grabbed and threw a small throwing knife all in the same motion. The cultist barely had time to flick his head to the side as the blade cut his cowl slightly. He decided that he'd be smarter than most of his comrades and held up his off hand, a faint orange light emanating from it. As the cultist did so a wreath of orange smoke and flame enveloped his head and a Daedric helm materialized.

 

The cultist then rushed Kriak, swinging broadly towards Kriak's dagger side. The hunter couldn't deflect such a powerful blow with his dagger, it was a well played move. Instead he dropped to the ground, landing in a near push up position just as the blade whirred above him. He then kicked his feet forward and lunged upwards with his dagger, leaving a jagged scar across his foe's bound armor. Before the cultist could react the shortsword struck across his chest as well, making a cross pattern on the armor. The Dunmer chuckled, a cold chilling sound from beneath the helm. "Your weapons are no match for the raiment of Lord Dagon!" He bellowed. The cultist became more and more bold, taking larger and more devastating swings at Kriak. Slowly, a smile crept across Kriak's face. At last he had his chance.

 

A hammer-ton blow came crashing down towards Kriak's shoulder but the woodsman laughed as it came down. Rather than dodging it, he jumped upwards. The blade caught his shoulder, nearly dislocating it but a dark energy seemed to spark and fly from the impact point. Kriak's precaution caught the cultist off-guard. It cost him dearly. Kriak brought his once broken foot up, with that knee to his chest, and unleashed a savage kick to the cultist's chest. A horrible crunching sound wrent the air as the plate gave in and punctured inward, ripping into the Dunmer's chest. The cultist let out a cry as his ribs started to break and the bound blade sailed through the air, disintegrating as it hit the stones and skittered across them. The Dunmer screamed in agony and released his other spells keeping his armor in place but could not make his cuirass dissipate. The metal seemed to glow with more orange energy, trapped in the mortal realm. The cultist began to fall over from the force of the kick and the pain of the metal but Kriak grabbed him by the collar of his mail. "Be careful with your gifts, sometimes you can't give them back," the woodsman said with a sinister smile, the beauty of poetic justice was returning to him faster and faster through this journey. The Dunmer's eyes started to roll back but he stayed conscious as blood started to blossom through his clothes. "I may not be a match for Dagon, but neither are you, scum." With that Kriak released the cultist and kicked him once more in the chest sending his body crashing to the ground. As the cultist gurgled and faded his body seemed to glow orange and disintegrated itself, leaving the formerly bound Daedric cuirass.

 

Kriak then turned his attention to the others who had dispatched the remaining cultists quite handily by this point, Adrynn was the only one still fighting a cultist but the cowled figure was clearly the worse for their conflict and it would be over soon.

[SoulofChrysamere]

Lecuaro Sulnair Marczon - Molag Mar, Outside the Redoran Outpost

 

Lecuaro shrugged off Shaie's nip and readied his katana to meet the six new cultists. The one at the lead was an enormous Khajiit with a glowing dai-katana, easily around eight feet tall and surely naught but muscle and sinew underneath his summoned armor, which encompassed even his tail. Lecuaro saw his feline eyes lock directly onto him and his mouth purse into a sneer, showcasing its razor-sharp teeth. Then, the Khajiit recognized the insignia across Lecuaro's cuirass, and it loosed a deep, guttural hiss while pooling an amber energy into his free hand. A second later, his face vanished behind the veil of a Daedric helmet and he bolted forward with both hands on his dai-katana's hilt. Though Lecuaro's insides were churning, he stood firmly and readied his katana. Fighting a Senche Tiger was hard. Fighting a Senche Tiger with combat training was harder. Fighting a Senche Tiger swathed in weightless armor forged in Oblivion's fires and wielding a four-foot blade of the same make bordered on the impossible. Lecuaro was determined to best him, though. He and everyone else still had a lot of work ahead of them, and he wasn't about to die before he saw it all completed.

 

The Khajiit's hiss matured into a roar as it neared Lecuaro, his Elsweyrian accent lending it a unique predatory horror. Lecuaro refused to flinch, however, and parried a swift diagonal uppercut. The Senche's weight suddenly crashing into him tipped his balance though, and he stumbled backward just in time to meet the dai-katana's followup slash, right at eye level. The blade's lack of weight saved Lecuaro's neck the whiplash a solid edge would've given, but it still jarred him and traced a deep gash along his glass helm's left brow. The dai-katana's abnormally swift movement had fazed Lecuaro, but he recovered and brought up his guard before the Khajiit could strike again.

 

The cat's next swing followed the same path in reverse, and Lecuaro deftly deflected it downward. The Khajiit tried his shoulder charge tactic again, but Lecuaro was ready this time and crouched low right before he lurched forward. As expected, the cultist surged his upper body ahead, leaving his balance momentarily unchecked. Lecuaro seized the chance and countercharged into the cat's legs, upending him and flopping the feline over himself and onto the ground face-up. Lecuaro then quickly wheeled around and brought his katana up the Khajiit's cuirass, giving it a long nick right down the center. The cultist had maintained his hold on his weapon however, and crossed Lecuaro's followup slash at his face before conjuring an ice spike in his free hand. The cat was quick to release it, but Lecuaro saw it in time and sidestepped. The Khajiit then kicked Lecuaro back and sprang back to his feet.

 

Although the cat returned both hands to his dai-katana's handle, Lecuaro saw that the blue mist from his frost magic hadn't dissipated and adopted a one-handed grip on his katana, robing his free hand in a crackling purple aura. Lightning was costlier than fire and frost, but its transit was instantaneous, making it extremely difficult to dodge. Lecuaro loosed a lightning bolt at the cultist, but although he was unable to avoid it, a whitish light blossomed from the point of contact and ate the electricity easily. Spell absorption...perfect - Lecuaro thought.

 

"Lord Dagon will enjoy raping your soul after I end you, Legion scum!" The Senche rasped in between crazed snarls.

 

Lecuaro stood there wordlessly, trying to read the cat's flexible stance. He quickly cast a ward over himself and began pacing to the right. The Khajiit mirrored him, and the two combatants found themselves slowly circling each other, their steps marked and sure and their minds struggling to find a flaw in each other's style. This cultist wasn't like the others. He was obviously well-trained and handily experienced. Lecuaro tightened his grip on his katana. This beast wasn't going to go down easily - or quietly.

 

"How does it feel to be at death's doorstep, unbeliever?" The Senche further taunted. "You'll soon be writhing in eternal agony in the depths of Oblivion itself!"

 

Lecuaro kept his composure, refusing to be offset by the Khajiit's words.

 

Shortly, the Khajiit ceased his jeering and again came at Lecuaro, who had the canton wall to his back. The cat came with his dai-katana held nearly vertically overhead. Lecuaro again caught the blade as it came down, this time sidestepping the subsequent shoulder charge and attempting to pin the Khajiit to the wall. The Senche refused to be manhandled though, and wheeled around while shoving Lecuaro off of him toward the ramp leading down to the ground level. Lecuaro staggered back and was able to parry another swing, but didn't have the footing to counter the shove. He was sent sprawling down the ramp with the cultist right on top of him.

 

After tumbling head-over-heels halfway down the ramp, Lecuaro finally managed to halt himself with scarcely enough time to roll aside and miss a sweeping slice from the Khajiit's dai-katana. The legionnaire hurriedly stood and jumped aside a thrust before trying another lightning bolt which, to his chagrin, was likewise absorbed. Now though, the cat erred; he lunged forward with another gruesome overhead chop, but was too close for the blade's length to factor in. Lecuaro rushed forward into him with unexpected speed and force, catching him off guard and spinning him around. The Khajiit tried to keep his balance, but a kick from Lecuaro sent him rolling the rest of the way down the ramp. While he was tumbling, Lecuaro traded his lightning for ice and hurled a generously large icicle after him. The spike proved too substantial for the cultist's ward to completely negate, and it caught his helmet's faceplate sideways, digging a jagged scar across it.

 

The Khajiit sent a pair of smaller icicles in return as he reached the ramp's bottom. Lecuaro sidestepped one and the other glanced off his right greave, his ward glowing in resistance. By the time he had finished descending the ramp, the feline was back on his feet and ready for more.

 

"You won't win this fight, heathen. I have Lord Dagon himself fighting at my side." The Senche uttered amid heavy, frustrated breaths.

 

Lecuaro still didn't respond. The Khajiit's words themselves bespoke confidence and assurance, but Lecuaro knew they were oozing bravado underneath. The Elsweyrian was obviously bewildered that his unholy equipment and zeal had not yet vanquished the filthy Breton Legionnaire before him. Lecuaro also knew that he himself was tiring as well, though. The fight needed a conclusion, and soon.

 

The Khajiit swung sideways and Lecuaro rolled it overhead and downward. The cat tried his shove again, but Lecuaro was quicker kicked him in the legs. The forced pause gave Lecuaro time to grab the Khajiit's sword's handle with his off hand and bring his katana up. The Khajiit jerked back, but the ebony blade managed to tear another trench near his neck. Then, not giving the cat a second, Lecuaro ducked underneath his dai-katana and wrapped himself around the towering Senche. He managed to wrestle the tiger into the guard railing, hunching him over. He then came down on the back of the cultist's helmet with his katana's pommel, slightly disorienting him.

 

The Khajiit wasn't going to let himself be thrown over the side, however. With his head ringing, he bucked backward violently with all his massive frame's power, propelling Lecuaro away. The cat then turned with incredible speed and delivered a punishing slash clearly across Lecuaro's glass breastplate.

 

"You really think I'm going to go down that easily? Huh?" The Khajiit bellowed with naked fury.

 

Lecuaro eyed the cat warily. The Senche displayed remarkable self-control given his station, but the Breton could sense him devolving. Lecuaro knew all he needed to do was push a little more and unearth the fascist zealot underneath the warrior mask. Once he did, the cat's carelessness would do three-fourths of the work for him.

 

The Khajiit swung downward, but Lecuaro deflected the blow aside and quickly grabbed hold of one of his arms before he could shoulder. He then jerked the cat downward and came down on his neck with his sword arm's elbow. The Khajiit responded with a growl and pushed Lecuaro into the wall. His breath briefly left him, but Lecuaro reoriented and brought a knee up into the the Khajiit's faceplate. A second knee in the face made him loosen his grip enough for Lecuaro to rip away and deliver a parting slice to the cat's pauldron.

 

Both combatants regained their balance and Lecuaro reassumed his stance. The Khajiit however, stood limply and impatiently, his dai-katana loosely held in one hand and his breaths weighted and flustered. Lecuaro tensed with anticipation. His plan was working.

 

"Oblivion take you!" The Khajiit boomed as he regripped his sword and came at Lecuaro, his voice seething with feral malice.

 

That did it. The chop came from overhead, but it was poorly executed. Lecuaro quickly parried it and sidestepped. Then, he used the Khajiit's reckless momentum to slam him headfirst right into the guardrailing. Finally, Lecuaro put all his weight behind his katana and drove it straight through the backplate.

 

The Khajiit twitched hard and blood bloomed from the puncture as Lecuaro writhed his katana around inside the cuirass, mincing the feline flesh inside. The cat stayed tensed for a few moments, but then fell limp. The dai-katana and all of the armor melted away under a warm orange light, revealing the blood-red robes and cowl underneath. Lecuaro then pulled his katana free and turned to return to his comrades.

 

The Khajiit wasn't yet dead though, and he gave a special cackle that gave Lecuaro pause.

 

"Maybe you don't die by my hands, infidel....... but you cannot escape........the approaching Dawn. You......... will be forever cast into the lowest pits of Oblivion.......... even if it requires Lord Dagon himself stepping into Nirn.......... and squashing you beneath his boot." The Khajiit hissed between defeated sputters. He then fully collapsed, now passed.

 

Lecuaro momentarily marveled at the way his voice carried. It was angry, beaten, and yet still confident and unshaken. Such was the strange essence of a hive mind.

 

Lecuaro quickly shook the notion from his mind though, and hightailed it back up the ramp to assist with any remaining cultists.

Edited December 31, 2012 by SoulofChrysamere