[Quest, part 1] Deviance is part of a perfect world

[Eris]

As soon as the shadowed figures appeared before them, Eris felt her shoulders slump slightly and the muscles in her arms lose their tension. Her posture appeared more relaxed – almost leisurely - but her eyes remained focused and cold, with panic building somewhere in their green depths. Her body was instinctively preparing for a fight, as she was sure there would be one, now that unwelcome guests have made themselves known. She had gone through the motion so many times before, relaxing her arms so that they would be more flexible, her legs so they could run and dodge more effectively. She hated the knowledge that everything was going terribly wrong. The treasure they had come for was not there, its place occupied by a dangerous group of the undead. Worst of all, Varubicht seemed to be losing control of the situation. Eris remained resolutely silent when the one called Darak asked his question. This was not the time to engage in polite conversation, nor take the hand of a man who obviously the enemy. Eris felt bile rise in her throat when the transformation began. The extra arms, the exposed bone, the incomprehensible expansion of the body… Of all the atrocities she has seen, this was perhaps the worst. But apparently, the horrendous spectacle wasn’t enough. When Darak began to transform, Eris almost forgot to breath, swallowing convulsively and trying not to look at the mess of body parts he was turning into. This was not natural. It couldn’t be happening. Shouldn’t be happening. What were they? What was this? Why? Were they supposed to be offerings to these creatures all along? Had this not been a quest but some sort of sacrificial ritual? A cold rage settled in the pit of her stomach. The panic curled itself into a tight ball of anger that felt as if it was bouncing around in her ribcage, trying to get out. She barely heard Varubicht’s command, so engrossed was she in the concentration now enveloping her mind. Being ordered to kill the Nuits was simply an added bonus. Eris shot a brief glance at Jette, not knowing what exactly she was trying to convey. Was it a silent farewell, a wish of good luck? Eris turned back to look at the Nuits before her and charged. Her dagger felt like an extension of her arm as it sliced through the air before coming in contact with undead flesh. The blade slashed across an arm eliciting a howl of pain from the arm’s owner. But even as she expected the Nuit to strike back, he did not. Instead, he spoke, his words like burning acid against her skin: “Strike me, human. Strike. Strike, even though it will accomplish nothing. You are alone. Nobody here to help you. Nobody who cares enough to save you.” Eris lunged at him again, this time catching the Nuit on the neck. However, his taunting only seemed to intensify. “You are a pawn. Worthless. A hired blade and nothing more. Hate. Hate. That is all they feel for you,” the Nuit hissed. Red-hot rage coursed through her veins. She did not want to believe what the walking corpse was saying. He was nothing but a pawn himself, obviously under the willpower of Varubicht. Still, the words cut to her core. “Nobody wants you,” the Nuit jeered, even as blood spurted from his arm and neck. Nobody wants you. Your father did not want you. Your mother did not want you. To those three simple words, Eris added her own meaning and pain as a snarl ripped from her throat. Throwing her hand out sideways, she plunged the side of the blade deep into the Nuit’s neck and pushed. A small part of her brain that was still able to process logical thought realized how lucky she was that this dagger was new. Mentally, she thanked the Isur who have created the blade and placed Izurdin’s blessing on it. Just as the thought of the dagger’s strength passed through her mind, she head a sickening crack as the Nuit’s head detached from his body and tumbled to the floor.

[Jette]

What monstrosity of body parts was this? Jette's mouth hung open and every limb in her body shook violently. The twisting and mutating of their limbs was too horrible to look upon, but Jette made no effort to look away either. She was insanely curious and utterly digusted all at the same time. But the cave then began to spin and Jette had to steady herself on the wall. She really had never seen anything like it before in her life and her face twisted uncomfortably as she fought the dizziness that overcame her body. Unsure of whether her heart was stopping or racing at incredible speeds, Jette stumbled backwards away from the two horrendous disfigured nuit. A wave of nausea pulled at her gut and she braced herself against the wall of the cave as she spilled out the food and water she had consumed earlier that day. It was too much too fast, and seeing this more disturbing side of magic shocked Jette to the point of illness. Every part of her skin broke into a sweat, and the corset that held her shirt to her body was, in Jette's mind, suffocating her. She tore at its laces with shaking hands and discarded it to the ground, heaving her chest as she gasped for breath. She recovered from the sickness as soon as she heard and saw Eris slashing at the group of nuit minions. How they spoke to her, the things they said. It enraged Jette. How dare they try to manipulate their group, compromise their mission, take their treasure. Jette acknowledged that she only knew a portion of what was happening in this situation but her one firm belief at that moment was that they were now a threat. If Varubicht betrayed them later, she would have to deal with it separately. But for the time being there were more dire issues to attend to, like surviving the grotesque and bitter nuit. Jette pursed her lips and took a sharp breath, finally recovering as the blood began flowing back into her limbs and her face. She yanked the short blade from its holding and didn't walk but ran towards the closest nuit minion. It took one look at her and began spitting out words of hate at her, speaking of her abandonment of her family. If she hadn't been so filled with adrenaline she would have felt the sting of his words on her vulnerable soul. She roared as she ran, the Prowess gnosis on her back surging and inflamed as she held the sword, blade pointed down towards the ground, and ripped and slashed at the nuit's form. The blade sliced through his chest, nearly cutting him in half. But Jette was not particularly skilled with the weapon and so it fall over his skin as she hacked and sliced at him repeatedly. An arm was opened and hung by a thread and she pulled back the blade before sinking her body weight into the strike and planted it through his neck. Fluids and flesh spilled out in different directions as she ravaged the body. When his words ceased to continue she kicked the body away and approached another nuit with the same fierce power. The second nuit in her way laughed wickedly in her face, begging her through clenched jaws to strike him down, that it was exactly what he wanted, that it didn't matter because she was going to become a minion of Darak whether she liked it or not. But these words fell on deaf ears. Jette thrusted the sword forward with Myri's might and widened the opening of its mouth with the blade by stabbing its face. Her muscles felt infused with incredible power and even as the nuit continued to laugh she yanked the blade out the side of its face, bits of pale flesh curling as the blade fought its way through bone and cartilage. When it fell to the ground she jumped over it and struck his neck and head with an intensity that seemed to last eternally. Her eyes burned viciously but she weathered the sensations and actually fed off of them. When the minion's mouth could no longer form words and the body stopped jerking and twitching, she looked up to see what state Eris was in. If Eris had managed to strike at two like Jette had, one was left. She looked around to locate it amidst the chaos that stormed inside the cave.

[Eris]

Eris felt an intense satisfaction as she watched the bloodied head rest at her feet. She could not remember a time when she had felt such a desire to destroy. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed Jette attacking another Nuit, but the other woman’s struggle seemed irrelevant. Varubicht’s fight seemed irrelevant. The treasure no longer mattered. In fact, nothing mattered but the burning desire to end the existence of the creatures that taunted her so. When another Nuit began to move toward her, she did not wait for him to speak, but simply struck out with her dagger. She tried to block out his jeering words, but some still managed to slip through the cracks: “Useless… hopeless pawn.” With each coming insult, Eris made another cut in the Nuit’s flesh, each one deeper than the first. “….discarded….unwanted…forgotten.” Blood spurted from detached limbs. “Pathetic.” A mass of wounds, but still moving. “forever….alone and-“ A hand tumbled to the ground, followed by an ear. Eris’s rage spilled over the barriers she had been constructing her whole life. Exhaustion and pain fueled her determination as she proceeded to cut the Nuit into pieces. She had no way of knowing how this would end, but she knew that in the moment she felt freer than she had in a long time. Panting heavily, she watched the mass of flesh that was once a Nuit collapse on the floor. Sweat rolled off her body in waves and her wet, red bangs were plastered to her forehead. She knew that she had sustained injuries from the struggle with the beaked creatures, but she could not feel them at the moment. The only sensation she experienced was the euphoria of a kill. Two down, four to go. Eris turned to examine the battlefield only to see that Jette had taken care of two Nuits as well. Good, one more left.

[Panna Cotta]

The last of the them looked like a middle-aged man. Judging by his physical appearance, he must have recently acquired his body. There was no hint of decay on his skin, no visible sign of being undead. He had striking gray eyes, unblinking. As Jette and Eris fulfilled their contract as hired swords, the fifth Nuit stood up. He was shaking wildly, growling incorrigible words. He did not speak a language that the two women could understand, but his suffering was undeniable. He thrashed Jette and Eris with a strength unlike that of an undead. The fifth Nuit suffered a torment unlike any other: he had received two different orders, both which he had to obey. To kill, or not to kill? There was no choice in between, and there was no black and white. To label his state that of anguish would be an understatement. It was grueling! He slapped himself for hurting Jette and Eris. It was ridiculous, but then after having been through what they did, why would a Nuit punching himself be remotely ridiculous?

He repeated an attack, but both the women were quick to evade. He was uncoordinated: he swung at his opponents wildly, only to land his own punches on his face. And there was nothing funny about it! It was what he got for his subservience to those with greater number of Uldr marks. Although the women would be clueless as to the reasons behind his actions, they didn't have enough time to even ponder about it.

Varubicht, together with Lahumni, was still out there, battling with Darak. And their contract bound them to help him. For money, right? There was treasure, though hidden away. It was the treasure these Uldr followers stole from Sahova, right? The questions were piling up, but the answers were far too few.

For now they must fight! And fight they will.

[Panna Cotta]

ERIS Observation 4 Interrogation 5 Rhetoric 2 Meditation 2 Dagger 5 Tactics 1 Mountaineering 2 Wilderness Survival 2 Lore of staying silent Lore of being half-awake Lore of kicking a creature Lore of witholding personal information Lore of being compelled to answer questions Lore of helping another person Lore of competitiveness Lore of reacting to taunts Lore of being angst-driven Lore of enjoying bloodshed JETTE Observation 5 Interrogation 4 Investigation 1 Tactics 2 Shortsword 4 Brawling 2 Mountaineering 2 Wilderness Survival 2 Lore of eavesdropping on other people's conversations Lore of noticing subtle changes in the surroundings Lore of talking secretly with another person Lore of being flirted Lore of grappling a creature Lore of divulging personal information Lore of suffering a panic attack Lore of using Prowess

[Panna Cotta]

ERIS & JETTE Lore of traveling to Sahova Lore of Baradbal (partial) Lore of Baradbal's crew Lore of drinking ale Lore of introducing self to another person Lore of Master Varubicht Lore of Master Crow Lore of Lector Qiao (partial) Lore of listening intently Lore of Golems in Sahova Lore of how a Stormwarden can communicate Lore of Sahova Island Lore of the Testing Grounds (partial) Lore of sleeping in the wilds Lore of fighting a Mollack Lore of drinking water created through Reimancy Lore of camaraderie with strangers Lore of being taunted Lore of hearing Nader-Canoch Lore of Uldr's Grotto Lore of Master Darak Lore of Randjaki/Chained Ones (partial) Lore of Desolate Ones (partial) Lore of killing a Nuit Notes: I enjoyed this quest thread a lot. I am very happy that at least two of you have managed to go through with it. There are numerous lores because the fast pace and abundant interactions within the thread warrants them. If I have missed anything, please let me know. Jette and Eris are allowed to continue to part 2. Gideon and Sturlin are considered passengers of Baradbal and will be affected by the quests' ending. Syfec Morbus, having never posted any reply may back out of the quest.