Solo Uneventful Encounters

Warden job thread, a search for missing apprentices.

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An undead citadel created before the cataclysm, Sahova is devoted to all kinds of magical research. The living may visit the island, if they are willing to obey its rules. [Lore]

Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:16 am

12th of Summer, 517 AV, mid-afternoon, the Prairie:

It was a couple bells since he was dispatched. Namely, two not-so-expendable apprentices went missing recently, and a couple warden initiates were sent across the island to search for them. Obviously the buggers couldn’t have been too important to anyone, lest at least a couple of full-fledged wardens would be sent after them. Being told that the search will likely be a lengthy one, the man had brought with him a full waterskin, a couple bites of food, his eating knife, flint and steel, and the blanket that came with his dull room, all neatly rolled up and packed into his rucksack. Either way, Einar was already tiring of the fruitless search that this gods-forsaken wasteland was providing him with, and for what? Two probable self-important pricks who likely won’t be missed by anyone. Hell, he was under the impression half the apprentices, within the first week either get blown up, killed by a monster they spawned, or are simply dragged away into some deep dark hole by their masters, never to be seen again. Be his assumptions as they may, there was still bloody naught but sand, dirt and dried up, dead husks of plant life in this bloody glorified desert. Naturally he had his poleaxe ready in hand, accompanied by a belt of throwing knives strapped over his chest, mostly covered by the worn coat he donned. He expected himself ready for the occasion of sand and dust giving way to hungry, horse-sized dogs with nine legs… or whatever some idiotic Nuit thought of popping out of their arse and leaving to spread its stench in the Prairie.

Though soon Einar was at the point of hoping for an encounter with a monster, for that meant salvation from boredom, from having sodding nothing to do. The most eventful thing he witnessed across the last three bells was some insect scurrying away when he kicked over the rock it was hiding under. His hopes were poorly seen to, as evening descended without another bloody encounter with a living being, much less with a stray warlock wannabe. A lengthy search, fair enough, but for the love of Cheva, he did not sign up for a half a day long encounter with petching thin air. He never found any trace that his experience would have him assume could be left in a clumsy apprentice’s way. No recently scorched earth, no freshly drawn, unfinished circles of runes, no ungodly abominations carelessly prancing about, absolutely, ploughing nothing. Before evening descended into complete darkness, Einar made sure to find the best excuses for firewood he could, lots and lots of brittle growths and creeping roots, along with the occasional couple branches of deadwood. He stored his finds beside and upon the naked, cracked skull of some long dead gargantuan monstrosity, on which he would spend the night. The bloody thing stood four and some feet tall at the forehead, and about six feet long, by shape he concluded it either belonged to some degenerate reptile or to an overgrown canine monster… though, location in mind, it was probably some unholy conjoining of both. At least the gods didn’t see fit to allow him into the world at an age where beings like this one actually walked and dined. As grotesque as this little seat within the ruins of a skeleton would be, he certainly wasn’t about to go wandering through the night with gods know what lurking about.
Last edited by Belugnir on June 29th, 2017, 9:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:17 am

Several strikes to the flint, a couple gentle blows of air… it truly didn’t take him long to start a fire, seeing as the dry grassy growths of the Prairie needed but the vaguest pair of sparks to be set aflame, it helped that what branches and deadwood he managed to gather were also as dry as wood gets, in spite of the recent threat of storms. Soon enough, three little fires stood ignited, forming an imperfect triangle around the bony high ground that would be Ein’s own for the night. The man made sure to leave naught but sandy ground for several feet in each direction of each fire, unwilling to see half of the bloody plane aflame should his attention slip for a brief while. He would try his best to distribute the scarce supply of wood he managed to gather out of this wasteland across the fires to keep them burning through the night. They weren’t needed to keep him warm, as his coat was more than enough for that, he would use those to for the ease of noticing any incoming threat, and hopefully, a possible nocturnal predator will be driven away by the light alone. The night sky was fairly clear, to a point he was able to see multiple patches of stars. Ein hazarded that he’d be able to see fairly well even without the fires lit. Another thing he was grateful for was the fact that it was Summer, meaning day would dawn a fair bit sooner than if it were not so. He was surprised he still managed to keep count of days, given his lack of socialization ever since he ended up on this good for nothing island.

Even though boredom had robbed any monster that would try to kill him of half the deed, Ein still had a mind to stay awake through the night. Yes, he had a high ground to sit his arse on, and yes, he had a minor measure of safety within the fires that surrounded him, but he wasn’t about to flop over and fall asleep in the middle of the Sahovan outdoors. And most certainly he could skip six hours of sleep and not be a complete wreck for the following day, he spent half a day walking a flat terrain, not working in a mine.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:18 am

13th of Summer, 517 AV, Second Bell:

Still ploughing nothing. After killing about two hours by using a throwing knife to carve one poor excuse for a horse’s head out of a fist sized chunk of dry wood, before casting the thing into the nearest of the three fires, Ein took out a piece of dried meat, almost as hard as leather, and began chewing on it. Something to do. Something happening. He tossed another short, bulky log into the fire to his right – again, happening. A shadow dashed overhead, blotting out the night sky for but a blink. Ein finally managed to bite off a mouthful and chew it down enough to swallow the damn thing.

Eyes shooting up, taking a moment to adjust to a scene darker than that of waning, hungry flames, Einar was able to recognize a familiar shape, black against the dark, starry azure. A shape of wide-spread wings. He met one of those before, man-sized scavenger birds of Sahova. Noktal, was it? The winged whoreson seemed oblivious to his presence there, probably because he still drew sodding breath, though before it passed enough distance to fade from idle gaze, the Noktal seemed to suddenly change course. A moment later Ein could swear he saw the bird passing above the same area again, yet the distance was too great and the light too dim to be certain, no matter how hard his eyes squinted. Not willing to think much of it at the moment, the man took one of his throwing daggers and chiseled a small arrow into the thick bone he sat upon, pointing toward the direction the scavenger flew in a minute ago. Three, maybe three and a half hours later, with the first lights of an unborn sunrise, he might be able to track the bird. A minor motivation to not pass out from sheer boredom. He went back to regularly feeding a branch of wood to his ground torches and chewing the leathery hunk of meat.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:18 am

40th chime of the Fifth Bell:

Eyes dry from the lack of sleep, the man’s narrowed gaze finally welcomed premature dawn. He ran out of deadwood to feed to his little fires nearly an hour ago, and ended up drifting to sleep for the briefest while some three or so times. Even so, the night ended uneventfully, no ungodly monstrosity making any attempt to turn him into a morsel. The dark of a half-starry night sky finally gave way to shades of cold gray and faint blue. A speck could be seen hovering, off to the South-East, black against the weak light of a sun that was yet to show itself. His Noktal was indeed still circling above the same area. Pouring a handful out of his waterskin to splash across his face, Ein got down from his five-foot-tall seat atop the rock and greeted the ground with his feet. After stretching for a moment and dusting himself across the arse, sore from sitting still for most of the night, he took several handfuls of ash from the corpse of one of his fires and smeared them across the side of the great skull. An addition to the landmark, possibly to help him navigate his next passing through this particular part of the mundane as hell Prairie, after all, who’s to say that this was the only scarce skeleton of its kind?
With his rucksack lightened by the absence of food and water he depleted over the night, Einar began pacing towards the area that the Noktal took an interest in. Less than half an hour of striding later, the hopes he began harboring since he saw the scavenger came true. The Noktal had led him to the missing apprentices… well to what was left of them anyway. Even though they were tattered and soiled, Ein managed to recognize the modest robes that most of the sodding warlock wannabe’s seemed to don. One of them lay on his back, with the other having seemingly fallen face first, horizontally across his buddy’s belly. I suppose I can think of worse ways to go than choking on your friend’s member. The man jested wordlessly at this grim scene. Though his smug smile fell into a thin line when several steps closer and a better look at the apprentices revealed why the feathery whoreson above didn’t yet begin feasting on them.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:19 am

The second dead fellow, in the event of not being dead proper to begin with, rose from the ground with a hollow growl, turning toward Einar. The bugger’s eyes were absent pupils, his chin blackened with ichor and decay. With menace in its shallow breath, the husk extended hand toward him, displaying charred markings and a sudden gust of smoke that would cloud the ruined Nuit’s marred face for but a breath. It seemed as if the corpse tried to cast some spell on him, yet Ein hadn’t the time to gawk and ponder, for in the next moment, this… creature, hurled itself at him, jaws clapping, seeking flesh.

He shoved the rabid Nuit away with the lengthy shaft of his weapon, before bringing the poleaxe’s hammer end across the side of the bastard’s head. The Nuit fell over as a toppled candle would, absent movement or resistance. A dark liquid of awful smell soon leaked from its open skull across the dust.

‘’What the sodding shyke was that…’’, panting, with unavoidable presence of shock, Einar stared down at the corpses. Why’d this bugger throw himself at him? What the bloody hells was wrong with his eyes, with his wit? Why was he laying over the carcass of another Nuit for at least the length of the night when he wasn’t dead himself?...
Eyes shifted from the fresh corpse to one who has been that way for at least two days’ length. The Nuit seemed halfway scorched, likely what caused his demise, what remained of his skin afterward had fallen in, body decomposed under exposure quicker than any embalmment could hope to preserve it. The bastard’s blackened ribs were showing, as was half of his bare skull, yet even decomposing as the Nuit stood, one could still catch clear display of bite marks, both across his rotting skin and the tattered robe he wore. Einar was not one faint of gut or heart, yet when sight came to him, of teeth missing from the rabid, chin-blackened bastard’s jaw, yet present scattered across his fellow apprentice’s wounds, a sour fire clawed out of the man’s belly and into his throat. After neatly throwing up what little food he ate last night and taking a moment to recall proper breathing, in spite of the ungodly stench that hung in the area, Einar would force himself to try inspecting the two carcasses.
Last edited by Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:19 am

He could divine no meaning from the runic markings that both of the Nuit had on the palms of their hands, barely recognizable in event of their slow decay, at least to him. Man could just barely conclude that the apprentice he had to strike down had his hands marred at least several weeks before the other one. Had Einar known anything of Reimancy or the ways of the Sahovan wizards, he could guess at least part of what happened here two days ago. One freshly baked Reimancer attempted to unlock the art’s powers for his fellow apprentice, yet either out of inability to control his magic, or out of long-hidden spite, he ignited his own Res within the body of his subject, bringing the fellow to his demise, and condemning himself to a mindless state caused by overgiving, becoming little more than a rabid beast, one that began gnawing on his colleague’s corpse minutes later. The two careless fools came to the Prairie to attempt the deed which they should’ve known neither of them was ready for in hopes of not being disturbed by the prying eyes of other wizards. This was their reward – One Sunberthian good-for-naught spitting in disgust over their ruined shells.

To Einar, however, those two bodies provided only confusion and unpleasant indecisiveness. He had no idea how they became the corpses that they now were, well, save for the part he had in bashing in the one crazed bastard’s skull. His biggest concern at the moment was whether he should just leave the bastards to rot in the sun or if he should haul their rotting mugs to the Citadel as proof that he discovered them, he hardly imagined there’d be a brazen fool who would attempt accusing him of killing an apprentice absent reason. Yet he was quickly reminded of the concern he should’ve made most pressing. His reminder was an ear piercing shriek from the Noktal he had all but forgotten. Eyes turning upward, and ears being greeted with the whistle of wings descending wings, baring beaks and talons, Einar came to a revelation that the scavenger he saw last night was no longer alone, but apparently had two of its kin for company. And apparently, they considered a spiteful whoreson with poleaxe in hand less dangerous than a rabid corpse, lest they would’ve attacked the mindless Nuit like they were now attacking him.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:20 am

He had to resist his reflexive urge to simply impale the owner of the first pair of claws that came charging at him from above, simply because while he’d be gutting the first attacker, he’d leave himself wide open to be gutted himself by the next one. So he ducked under the talons of the first Noktal, and bolted to the side when those of the second came flying by, only then jabbing his weapon’s spearhead at the last ugly beaked face that came bolting toward him. Any eagle or falcon needed a fair bit of space and some time if they wished to change the course in which they flew, meaning that the Noktals, who were absurdly larger than any bird of prey ever sold on the Sunbertian market, would need a considerable amount of time to circle around for a new assault. Time Einar could well use to safely dispatch his latest assaulter. The deed went smoothly, as any conflict would if every foe he ever had to face came bolting at him in a straight line, absent ability to change course at their speed. He had to but extend his weapon forward, and the Noktal rammed itself onto the spear tip. What did not go as smoothly however, was the moments that came afterward, for the force of the great bird’s charge tore the weapon from Einar’ hands, taking a fair bit of skin off of his palms in the wake, and shoving the opposite end of its shaft against the ground, which only led to the Noktal impaling itself onto the poleaxe even harder, yet with the bird contorting in its dying tantrum, man was left without a chance to retrieve his poleaxe before the other two would come down to attack again.

So he reached for the belt strapped across his chest, and for the knives that stood housed within it, even though knowing that his aim was still awful at best, and that was when his hands weren’t burning with pain from being freshly marred. He had to wait till the scavengers charged him again, possibly till they were fairly close as well, as trying to nail them down high on the wing would be a fool’s errand, even with bow in hand. Trying to invoke advantage through his own petty Flux sorcery was currently the last thing on his mind. His gut told him to bolt and leave those sodding corpses to those who obviously had greater desire of having them, yet spite towards those birds was something that overwhelmed. His first two hurls of the knife were horrid, driven by panic, missing the first Noktal completely, and even though his feet carried swiftly to the side, avoiding beak and talon, the frenzied scavenger tore a broad, jagged line across half the length of the man’s flowing coat. That was clothing he’ll have to invest coin in replacing or stitching. The instant thought of that added anger to his next throw, aimed at the back of the creature that had just charged him by. Guided by spite, and even more so – luck, for the man was absent skill with his current killing tool, the dagger embedded itself into the Noktal’s back, where its right wing met with long neck, and the bird fell down, rolling violently across the dirt in its momentum.
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:21 am

Meanwhile Einar found he had to throw himself face first onto the ground as well to avoid the talons of the last feathery whoreson who tried to skewer him through the back with long talons. The bird’s claws passed him by a hair, a moment before he’d hit the ground, forearms gathering before him just in time to barely prevent him breaking his face upon the soil. Yet he wasted not even a moment on shoving himself up from the dirt and grabbing at the shaft of his poleaxe. The weapon was damaged, but it would hardly be a thing of notice, the steel-less end of its shaft was irregularly shortened for an inch or so when it scratched against the ground after the Noktal impaled itself against the poleaxe. Pulling the weapon from the now stilled Noktal’s breast, Einar turned to the last one who yet posed a threat, thin lines of blood went on their way down the wood as he clutched the handle, using what little routine meditation he was able to in order to focus on the task at hand and ignore the pain. However, the third starved scavenger, after its second unsuccessful attempt to kill the human, and after seeing two of its ilk fallen to it, decided that this meal was not worth the risk, and prolonged its flight away from the site. Once his mind was let to relax for but a moment, the man became ravenous from the dulling numbness in his arms and the pain of sensitive nose dashed against the ground in attempt to save the skin on his back. Einar began striding towards the creature that now attempted to get up from the ground. An effort in which damaged wings and dazed mind prevented it in. The long-shafted axe whistled through the air.

‘’I… will not… be buggered… by… A FUCKING BIRD!!’’, each pause ‘tween words meant a hit of the poleaxe delivered to the helpless Noktal’s head, before Einar finally decided to turn what was left of it afterward into a puddle with one brutish downward swing of the weapon’s hammer end.
‘’And tell your whole sodding pack of shyke-eaters to leave me the fuck alone!’’, he hurled a stone from the ground in the direction of the living Noktal, now a shrinking shape in the distance.
Last edited by Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Belugnir
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:21 am

More curses, mostly blasphemous ones followed, pouring from the panting man, as he tossed the poleaxe away, fell into a seated position and clutched his injured hands to his chest. The injury and the pain weren’t serious, but they were enough to make him miserable, especially once he had a moment to cool down and realize that he only partially avoided the last attack from the Noktal, he couldn’t see them, but could damn well feel them, two shallow lines, across half the length of his back. After one painful reaching of the hand, he discovered the wounds on his back only skin deep, though burning as if fresh brands of heated iron. He took his coat off, tossing it onto the ground, the thing was tattered, and he knew his shirt was barely in any better a state. Said shirt was soon undone as well and joined his coat in the dirt. Reaching for his rucksack and the waterskin in it, Ein regretted ever taking the thing off, had he not, he wouldn’t have to choose between turning his one, freshly ruined change of clothes into a pile of patchwork or going around the island in naught but his trousers.

Washing his back with the most modest amounts of both water and movement, he rubbed his hands clean with another handful from the waterskin and took two sips from the thing. From there, he went about tearing away a line of cloth from the torn side of his coat, making that into wrappings that went around his injured hands. Afterward, he tore another lengthy piece of cloth, all across the horizontal, lowest end of the coat, and warped that around his chest and upper back. It wasn’t much, but every drop of blood that he keeps in himself and not dripping across the ground meant one extra step back toward the citadel and one less trace for a hungry monster to track him by, even though those makeshift, far from clean bandages meant that his coat was shortened to the point where it was just barely a coat and not another buttoned shirt. Having gotten into his ruined clothes again, Ein gave one final glance to the corpses that were left in his wake.
Last edited by Belugnir on June 29th, 2017, 9:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Belugnir
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Uneventful Encounters

Postby Belugnir on June 11th, 2017, 5:21 am

Normally, he would’ve found a way to carry them all back to the citadel, the Noktals to sell off to the Palsa, and the Nuits bodies, as ruined as they were, to be proof of the fact he found them. Then he took another look at the humanoid’s corpses, and decided that if he did try to carry them along, he’d probably have to stop every other minute to collect a freshly detached body part if he wanted to bring anything back at all. Their bodies were in an awful state, at best. Besides, he wasn’t in a state that’d allow him to waste time or haul corpses around, he needed to get back to the Citadel and get himself patched up as soon as possible. And as for the Noktal… he decided to simply butcher off the upper part of one’s body, namely, chest, head, and a single wing, and mount it atop his poleaxe. A banner, warning any potential monster crossing his way back to the Citadel that he’s had his fill of shyke for the day.

Hours of walk later, at the edge of fatigue, Ein would have reported his find and the events that followed it, before being instructed to visit the Surgery Chamber, where an apprentice went grumbling about a useless Pulser wasting their time with a couple scratches as they tended to his injuries. Once he was patched up and had himself a couple hours sleep back at his room in the Quarter, the rest of the day would be spent getting himself needle and thread and attempting to repair his ruined clothes as best as he could.
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