Flashback eran sidvol the sixth.

part five of the lucky seven.

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 14th, 2012, 1:12 pm

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Day 40, Winter of 416 AV
Early Morning
Aylasa Caves, The Cobalt Mountains

"Rise and shine, gentlemen," The familiar raspy voice of the leecher nuit called out, to various grumbles throughout the caves. "Prepare your things, we depart in ten chimes."

The various chaos that they created in the regions in, near and around Syliras had caused an increased Knight presence, and it was clear that their hideout might be discovered by the Knights. No doubt there was little to evidence that the cause of the recent disturbances could be pinned on them. Yet, the Knights were not know for their fair trials. They were often hack first and explain later, and the little hideout that they were burrowed in were bound to be suspicious. Nevertheless, it was time to depart, for everything went to plan as per Voodoo's estimations.

With the procurement of Mark Sixth's location earlier, they have discerned the location of one Eran Sidvol to be in Sunberth. More precisely, the casino and cage fighting wonderland that was Sunberth's finest gambling establishment. Apparently, they had things relating to Mark Seven to do in Sunberth as well, and thus everything happened to fall together quite nice and dandy.

"I swear that guy's a konti," Eridanus shook his head at wonder at the extent of Voodoo's estimations and predictions.

"Nothing more than observations, inferences, planning, and boat loads of information," Middleman remarked.

And thus, the group made a final sweep around their cavern, taking everything of importance and burying things that they discarded, and it was off to Sunberth with the horses that Voodoo procured for them.

Off to Sunberth, off to the land of anarchy!
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 14th, 2012, 1:48 pm

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Day 70, Winter of 416 AV
Early Evening
Slums of Sunset Quarter

Gentle snowflakes graced the sky as the occasional gruff shout and shrill scream from outside broke the silence of the night. In one of dilapidated shelters - accommodation very conveniently arranged by The Organization - six people stood huddled around a small fire. The occasional snowflake drifted into the building through the leaky roofs, but at least it was better than being out in the open.

"Travelling in winter's a bitch," A large hulking man who went by the name of Yeller growled.

"We cannot wait till next season," The gaunt scarecrow with the hooked nose said.

"Aye, Voodoo," Said another who had his hands jammed into his voluminous robes. Otherwise known as Medal, he was the second-in-charge in the team and the de-facto leader on the field.

"Doesn't change the fact that we're all freezing stupidly like this," A young man piped up, his youthful features marred by a variety of scars that crisscrossed his body that spoke of his athleticism and fondness for taking and dishing out damage. "Eh, Redeemer?"

"I bet Middleman's the most... uh, chill about it," Eridanus cracked in response to his brawling companion Coinsmith.

An old nuit that they had been joking bout shrugged apathetically, his gravelly voice rasping as he spoke, "I can feel my icicles forming in my ichor."

The group looked at each other for a moment, uncertain if the overall team leader and handler was joking or not. After a moment of awkward silence, Voodoo interjected, "I think I saw a bit of bone jutting out of your ribs while you were changing earlier."

"You peeped at that old cor - I mean - at Middleman?" Coinsmith asked incredulously, causing the rest of the team to look at the poisoner with refreshed interest. Well, any interesting topic would help distract them from the cold."

"No, I was helping to inspect him for decay," Voodoo replied defensively.

"I am in need of a new body soon," Middleman interrupted slowly. "That last job took out more than I thought." As leeching was an art that poisoned the body and corrupted one's djed, it caused chronic weakness in living people. In nuits, it hastened the decay of their bodies, and it was evident that the team handler's body was only barely kept together with a combination of his embalming fluids sprinkled with some concoction of Voodoo's.

"How about we get one for you then?" Yeller suggested, desperate for some sort of activity to do that would generate heat in the body. Such as running. Or fighting, which was his favorite activity to do besides eating meat.

"Well, we have to wait for Johnny's to reopen again after some idiot tried to start a fire. Internal investigations and whatnot," Medal shrugged. They had tried to discreetly whisk for information, but based on the general feedback they received they have decided not to arouse further suspicion. Instead, it would be more prudent to just wait for the casino to open its doors for business again for them to find Mark Six, otherwise known as Eran Sidvol, whose location had been given up to Eridanus during a job targeting a fellow professional gambler who was their third target in a series of seven.

Coinsmith nodded enthusiastically, saying, "Let's get to it! I mean, are we really going to just sit around here and try to not get frostbite in this sad, sad house that Voodoo-"

"It's a safehouse dammit," Voodoo stated indignantly. "It's not easy to get a place without it being able to be traced back to you. With this house we're as good as invisible here, even to the Night's Eyes." Of course, that young punk would never understand the importance of planning and trail hiding.

"Easy there, Voodoo," Eridanus calmed the assistant team handler down with a wave of his hand. "He used to be a handler for the Fifth Order too, like how Middleman is our handler. Guy knows what he's doing."

"Thank you Redeemer, the only reasonable voice in a sea of idiots-" Voodoo muttered, though his words were pointedly ignored by the rest of the team who had been engaging in a debate on their course of action.

There was a knock on the door, and Medal rose reluctantly from the circle huddling around the small fire, opening the door a fraction and exchanging a few words - and gold, judging from the familiar clinking of metal - with someone outside.

"That's it then," The projectionist announced with relish, his face less pale as more blood rushed due to adrenaline being brought about by anticipation. "Let's do this two-folds so we don't waste time. I have received good news. Two pieces of good news, actually."

"Firstly, Johnny's will be opened tomorrow afternoon, probably around the sixteenth bell or so. I bribed one of Tua's wordrunners who was relaying information about the casino's opening time. Apparently that was a source of gambling too."

"Seriously, those idiots," Eridanus shook his head slowly.

"Secondly, I have received gossip from the Slag Heap Fire regarding what you requested, Voodoo," Medal nodded in the poisoner's direction. "It may or may not be accurate. But as they always say - rumors are always grounded in facts, eh?"

"Let's hear it," The hooked nose assistant team handler replied eagerly.

"Argus Vin's remains may be in the Dust Bed, in the southern region of the crooked cross," Medal recited mechanically.

"Oh, is that so?" Voodoo rubbed his hands with excitement.

"What does that have to do with Mark Six anyway?"

"Nothing, actually. It's related to Mark Seven. But let us not waste time on you hearing information you don't need yet."

Medal glanced at Middleman for a second, then shrugged, addressing the whole team again, "Alright, so here is our plan so we don't waste time, since Johnny's is scheduled for opening tomorrow. Voodoo - I know that you'll want to do something in the Dust Bed, so pick whoever you want-"

"Redeemer, of course."

"Fine. Voodoo and Redeemer, to the Dust Beds for your Mark Seven preparations. Coinsmith and Yeller, you two are with me. We will help Middleman replace his rotting body. Any questions?"

"Yes, when can we move out and get our blood pumping?" Yeller asked innocently.

"You're an impatient arse," Coinsmith chuckled, slapping the spear-wielding giant on the back.

"Alright, move out!"
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 14th, 2012, 2:11 pm

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Half a Bell Later
En Route to Dust Bed, Sunberth

"What does Argus Vin's remains have anything to do with Mark Seven?" Eridanus asked the poisoner when they were en route to the biggest graveyard in Sunberth.

"Mark Seven is otherwise known as Horac Ageless. Does that give you a clue? And why you were picked as well?" Voodoo raised an eyebrow while sneaking a sideways glance at the ethaefal.

The two of them were quite heavily layered in clothes, not only to obscure their feature and prevent recognition and suspicion, but also to protect against the bone-chilling cold that Morwen had sent upon Mizahar.

If he linked things up properly, Eridanus realized that Voodoo had always picked him to do tasks related to Malediction. From the cursed beer mug that helped to secure Mark One and Mark Two, to the unfortunate gambling cup that played a part to secure Mark Three, it had always been Malediction. Since this particular task involved remains, it was obvious that it had to do with malediction. Combined, with Mark Seven's name...

"He's a nuit, isn't he?" Eridanus asked, having came to this conclusion. "Argus Vin was his previous body, and you want to use this as a weakness to strike Horac?"

"Exactly as you thought," Voodoo replied in a satisfied manner, glad that the ethaefal could come to this conclusion as well. "I have not briefed the team yet, to avoid cluttering their minds with useless data. Since you seem to be pretty bright, I'll let you in on a preview. Horac Ageless is no ordinary nuit. He is old, far older than any of the early six marks. If you want to know why I was assigned here to the Seventh Order-"

"Go on, my lips are sealed until you choose to reveal this to the team," Eridanus nodded understandingly.

"Middleman knows this, by the way. I just don't want to alert the team unnecessarily," Voodoo remarked, licking his dry lips nervously. "The Seventh Order was not the first field team sent to harvest The Organization's Lucky Seven. The Fifth Order was sent as well. Farmer, Leash, Dreary and Rosebud and led by yours truly, Voodoo. It was my fault... I should have gathered more info. But, Horac Ageless. He wiped us all out. I barely escaped with my own life. But in the meantime, I plotted and schemed. Gathered as much information as I can - even those that The Organization did not tell me that might have saved my team."

Eridanus could see the bitterness in the poisoner's words as he spoke. The creaking black iron-wrought gates that marked the entrance to the cemetery was slowly coming into view.

"Now we are more prepared. I still can't believe that The Organization downplayed Horac by such a large degree. In any case, that nuit cannot be harmed normally. I am sure that even amongst other agents you might have heard of Farmer's impressive strength, and even greater impressiveness with his scythe. That blow should have clean decapitated Horac from the neck above. But it bounced off like nothing happened."

"And that is why we are here, to forge a weakness against that invincibility of his?"

"Precisely so, and thus we have arrived. Be careful, Redeemer. The ghosts of old still walk in despair and cry for vengeance," Voodoo warned.

The information revealed to him in confidence partially shocked the ethaefal, for he had not heard of a team of The Organization actually failing. A complete annihilation of a field squad was unheard of, and news of it had spread like wildfire. Yet, no one in The Organization save for the higher echelons knew what happened. Now that Voodoo had revealed this bit of knowledge to him, and the fact that it was so close to home made the moonchild quite anxious indeed.

Yet, he could not afford to be distracted, for they were about to begin the preparatory phase of Mark Seven. It was important to do this right, for if he failed it was likely that the Seventh Order would be the next team to be wiped out by one particularly powerful undead wizard.

"Let us proceed then." Eridanus sighed with a heavy heart, and the two of them entered the musty graveyard.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 14th, 2012, 3:42 pm

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The Dust Bed Cemetary

The graveyard was silent, and only the silent whispers of the fallen and the gentle crackling of light torches spaced out throughout the place could be heard. There was no one who could be seen in sight, and Voodoo took out an unlit torch from his waist pouch, lighting it using one of the fixed torches along the dirt paths.

"Seek for a monument that consists of a crooked cross," The poisoner said silently to the ethaefal.

Together, they walked along the path in silence. The occasional jackal flew by, but everything else was silence. Compared to the irregular violence and crime on the streets, and even more so in the slums and alleys, this was a considerable improvement. Yet, something about the silence made them feel like they were desecrating a sacred area.

It is only the remains of the dead. Hold yourself together.

Thus, they strode on, their eyes ever watchful for the monument that Voodoo described. After several more chimes of walking in what seemed to be a neverending stretch of darkness, Eridanus elbowed Voodoo excitedly, pointing to a darkened silhouette at a distance away from the main path.

"The crooked cross!"

And so it was. As they approached, they noticed how the monument was actually made from a tree. To be precise, it was crafted of wood, but out of a living tree and shaped into that of a crooked cross. From the charred ends, it was likely that the original shape was something else. Perhaps the centuries of dilapidation or the twisting of magics by the Valterrian had weathered it beyond recognition, but now it had the shape of a crooked cross wrought from a now dead tree.

Strangely though, the cross was slanted at an angle, and one of the crosses pointed to the ground.

"Could that, perhaps be the 'south' we are looking for?" Eridanus mused. For the word South could of course be a technical term in navigation that referred to magnetic direction, but it could also be a metaphorical term for misfortune or downwards. In fact, the phrase 'everything is going south' referred to both misfortune and that direction.

Following the angle of the downwards slanting end of the cross, they visualized a straight line, which pointed to a huddled clump of graves.

"The graves here are burrowed shallowly, sometimes even on top of each other," Voodoo commented. "Argus Vin was a somewhat new delivery, he should be somewhere on top."

And so the two grave robbers began kicking and pushing the soil out in that clump of graves. At any moment, Eridanus suddenly imagined a skeletal hand reaching and grasping his hand, but it never came. At any moment, he expected a chilly voice to breath on his neck, but it never happened. Digging together with a companion helped to ease these fears somewhat, and it made their job a whole lot easier to bear.

After some time had passed, the two agents hit what they were looking for, and they pulled out a rather ragged corpse, with sunken eyes.

"The leather tunic with blood spattered on its side..." Voodoo mumbled as he stared intently at the body.

There was some hatred and fear to be had for this corpse after all, for it was the body that Horac Ageless inhabited while he decimated the Fifth Order. The dried blood on the torn tunic had actually been that of Farmer after his scythe attacked failed, and had gotten himself split into two with spikes that came from the ground.

"It was fortunate that he overgave, or he would have taken me too," The pale poisoner shook his head. Together, they hauled his corpse out and piled the rest of the soil back on top of disturbed grave so as to not draw suspicion.

With beating hearts, they sneaked out of the Dust Bed, with Voodoo acting as scout and leading the corpse-carrying Eridanus to empty paths back to their hideout. Though dead and a husky shell, it was imperative to move quickly despite being weighed down and so the ethaefal had channeled flux to his back to aid the carrying of the corpse easier. With each step he took, he also redirected djed threads to his calves as he walked, boosting the strength of each step. Combining these two simultaneous acts of flux, he was able to move the corpse at a mild jog. The faster they returned to their hideout, the better.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 14th, 2012, 3:59 pm

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Twenty Chimes Later
Safehouse, Slums of Sunset Quarter

"I see that you've brought back something... you can't be expecting me to shift over to that? That's a downgrade," Middleman pointed at the body of Argus Vin after the two agents arrived in their hideout.

"That's Argus Vin, Middleman," Voodoo reminded him. "Medal's group are the one getting you your body."

"Right, right. I must have been a little frazzled," Middleman remarked. "I just felt my hand dislocate itself from the shoulder sockets. My embalming salts can only hold me together for so long."

"No worries, Medal is competent," Eridanus assured the nuit simply. "Voodoo, let's get to work. What kind of thing are you looking for?"

"No charms or whatnot this time. Well, perhaps a locator might be effective. But the main thing that we're shooting for are weapons. Make as many weapons as you can from this corpse to equip the entire team. That should give us the edge we need against his stupidly tough skin."

Eridanus hummed aloud as he considered the body. He had to consider the variety of weapons that his team was familiar with. Medal was a projectionist, and so he was not expected to dive into combat. Still, he could be equipped with some bone darts as a form of ranged attack that would be effective against the dangerous foe that they were going up against. Yeller used a spear, so he would have to make a spear head and to craft a sufficiently sturdy wooden stem. Coinsmith was a brawler, and so it would be more prudent to make bone spikes that they got attach to his gauntlets. Finally, he used the long sword, but he suspected that he would not be able to make two. Therefore, he would use one sword as a parrying off-hand, while the one he crafted out of bone would be the main offensive one. Middleman and Voodoo were expected to handle everything else, from keeping others out of the killing zone to handling their escape transport.

"Let's get down to business," Eridanus sang in an odd off-tune voice. "To defeat... Horac! Did they send me-"

"Anything I can do at the moment, Redeemer?" Voodoo interrupted.

"Yes. Get me some quality wood from a shop and some tree-bark resin while you're at it. Also, try to salvage or buy used sword handles from the smith's. And string too. Oh more wood for the fire too. Don't confuse the two. The former I mean quality as in sturdy and firm, not lame luxury grade decorative type. The latter is to feed this fire here which prevents all of us from turning into icicles."

"You are quite demanding, Redeemer," Voodoo chuckled. "I'll get to it."

In the meantime while he waited for the additional materials, it was time to get to work.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 14th, 2012, 6:53 pm

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Eridanus first considered the various parts of a human. The corpse had been rotting long enough due to the fact that it had been inhabited by a nuit, and the nuit having gone through overgiving and battle made the condition of the body quite bad. Fortunately, it did not matter for the ethaefal was more interested in the bones, which remained in a generally good state. There were four things he had to craft and enchant. The sword, the darts, the gauntlet studs and the spear. First, it was probably a good idea to begin with the darts, since those did not require any additional materials.

Turning his gaze to the torso of the corpse, the craftsman removed the cracked tunic from the man, then dug his hands into the decomposing flesh, revealing the ribcage. Counting ten ribs on each side, he decided that he would create twenty of such darts made from the pointed ends of the ribcage. That should be sufficient for Medal to deal some damage from afar even taking into account accuracy penalties.

First, he took his assassin's dagger, and began to chop off the ribs at the end. Channeling flux into his wrist, he flicked the dagger, chopping down like a butcher and severing a sharp piece of rib bone with each strike. Cutting down many more times, he stopped only when he had the pointy ends of twenty pieces of bones. He knew that he did not have to design them to be aerodynamic, since Medal was not technically going to throw them. Instead, it was meant for him to use projection to shove these bone shrapnel into Horac Ageless, in the event that his astral arms were too weak to penetrate the wizard's arcane protection.

Taking his time to shape each rib bone, the craftsman narrowed each piece down to a constant size such that they would have a short length but piercing sharp end. It took him some time to do it, especially with his shivering, gloved hands. He honestly preferred to work without the gloves, but it was likely that his hands would turn blue and freeze in this cold. The fire was doing what it could to not let him die to exposure, and the shelter of the run-down house was the little that stood between them and the harsh environment.

Taking into account the trembling of the hands and the multitude of bones to narrow down and sharpen, it took at least a bell before he was done with the twentieth piece. The next step would be to ensure that these shrapnel bullets would be able to deal paranormal damage to their ageless target. By now, he was sufficiently confident enough in Malediction and Carving to not use the quill and ink combo first. Okay, actually he was just lazy. Besides, there was twenty pieces, it did not really matter if he screwed up. If he had been working on the longsword he would have used the ink first since he could not afford to screw that up.

Imagining the surface of the bone bullets as a blank canvass, the ethaefal began to carve. Then he stopped.

It's too small, and my dagger's edge is too large.

Well, it seemed that he had to use his quill and ink instead. The bullets were too small, and he could not carve anything other than basic shapes due to the unwieldy size of his dagger.

It should be fine anyway, it's not like these bullets were meant to last.

Fortunately it was meant as a consumable, so longevity of the malediction circles were not an issue. Taking out his writing set, he placed the vial of ink closer to the fire so that it would not simply just freeze up into solid in the cold.

Next, he dipped the quill and drew two circles on the surface of one of the bullets. In the first, using the written form of the ancient language that were glyphs, he carefully printed the word that represented life - "DJED". It represented life, backbone, magic, essence, and the beginning of creation. It was, in essence, the core concept that represented a being's living identity and self. In the second circle, he printed the glyph that spoke of the morbid term - "ROZA". That which represented death, termination and an end to things. Next, he drew the end of an arrow, pointing from the "ROZA" circle towards the "DJED" circle. The end of the arrow was large such that it threatened to consume the "DJED" circle should it continue. The symbolism was clear here. The "DJED" circle summoned the life essence of what remained in the body, and with its link to magic it brought forth the remnant of the nuit's remnant djed. The arrow that consumed this circle that originated from the "ROZA" circle spoke of death and destruction, and it signaled an end to this life.

And here lie my anti-Horac bone shards.

Grinning to himself in satisfaction at this simple but pragmatic design, the ethaefal proceeded to do the same for the rest of the nineteen bullets, drawing the two circles and printing the glyphs accordingly. It was a repetitive task, and it took him the better part of another bell to do so. When it was finally done, he looked around to see Middleman rose from his meditation and was observing him with interest.

"Your talent in this art have grown tremendously since the last time I taught you, Redeemer," Middleman remarked in a content tone.

"It's necessary," Eridanus shrugged. "Was that why you taught it to me?"

"I have hoped that you might be able to contribute since you were hopeless in contributing to hunting or cooking. Yet, I did not expect such skyrocketing growth. It is a truly joyful affair. Now I must refrain from talking; my jaw feels like it may drop out any time."

"Uh... yeah. Just hold on to your jaw. Medal should be returning soon," Eridanus replied gingerly, returning his attention to the splayed open corpse, considering which other part he should use next. Now that he thought about it, the bullets could be inserted into the chain links of Coinsmith's gauntlets. It would probably require three in each gauntlet for a total of six.

Luckily I made twenty, even without the six Medal will still have fourteen bullets to play with.

It was time to work with the spear. He would have to design a spear head. He intended to use the tree bark resin that he requested Voodoo to procure to stick the spear head onto the wooden stem, but he could not simply stick it like that. He would need to design some sort of insertion to keep it in place, and possibly use the rope for added security as well.

The calf bone seemed like a reasonable good place to start due to its size and density. That would have to do. Channeling flux to his sore arms from bells of carving, he drew his longsword instead so that he would not dull the dagger's edge unnecessarily. Slamming down the weapon twice, he separated the desired part of the calf bone from the shell of a corpse. Recalling the design of the spearhead of Yeller's spear, the ethaefal began to chisel and scrape away at the bone with his dagger.

In an effort to make the repetitive task go faster, he redirected flux energies throughout the length of his arm, from wrist to fingers to forearm. The quick jumping djed threads relieved the deadened exhaustion in his hands somewhat, and introduced internal heat when doing so, helping to reduce the shivering and numbness of his fingers. That helped tremendously in increasing his productivity.

After half a bell, he whittled the calf bone into a smaller, triangular shaped piece that resembled the spear head. First, he sharpened the edge of the spear in order to make it deadly, then he turned his attention to the base of the spearhead. He planned to make it a sort of cross that could be inserted into the folds of the wooden stem. In order to do so, he marked out a cross at the base, then began to flick and shave away at the parts of the bone not within the cross. The result was a base that had a cross-shape protruded out, facing downwards.

Next, he focused his attentions to the smooth base of the spear. This time the spear was not a consumable and so he had to make sure that the circles do not fade... or they would all be screwed. Using the knife, he carved several circles throughout the smooth surface of the base, excluding the protruded cross since he had a different plan for that. Within each of these circles, he printed the single glyph "ROZA" in every of them. Repeated mentions of these damning words would enhance the effect that he wanted to bring, which was important for a weapon meant to be used repetitively.

ImageOn the raised cross, he carved a single circle at the center. Within that, he wrote the word "DJED". Its function was identical to that of the one used for the bone shards, so there was no need to further elaborate on its effect. The difference lay in what he drew outside the circle. Designing it such that it would look like a target cross-hair, the markings were meant to show the djed and life of their target as the main, central target. Adding several path sigils throughout the empty surface of the cross that connected the "ROZA" circles to the single "DJED" circle, he directed the energies of the "ROZA" circles towards this central "DJED" circle. With the addition of the glyphs the meaning was clear. Besides acting as an anti-Horac weapon, it was meant to increase the precision of the weapon towards the mage, possibly giving it a sort of magical attraction to striking the nuit's body and making it harder for him to dodge.

Yeller would most definitely appreciate that.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
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Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 16th, 2012, 6:58 am

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Next was the harder task of crafting a long sword. He had requisitioned a used metal handle from Voodoo, but honestly he doubted that it would be easy to get hold of one. Used handles did not simply just lie around, and to request for one would take some time for the smith. In other words, he had to craft a sword from scratch. Unfortunately, he was no smith in understanding how to make a sword. Fortunately, he was intimately familiar with every feature and aspect of the longsword, and on another plus point, he was making all of this from bone rather than forging from steel which would require a much greater level of smithing expertise. All in all, he was not quite out of his ground yet.

First, he had to select a piece of the bone to become the edge. That part was quite evident, for there was no other part in the human body that resembled the edge of the blade as much as the spine. He would need to treat it such that it would be more solid and stiff rather than weak and wavy, but that was another matter. Interestingly, he could use the skull that was attached to the end of the spine as a handle. There some modifications to be made, but after that the skull would be perfect as a handle, and in fact offer more protection to the wrists than a simple long sword handle. It would be similar in design to that of a saber or a fencing sword in that regard.

So, he had to separate the skull and the attached spine carefully from the body without damaging them while they were still relatively flimsy. Fortunately, it was not so much as a separation of bone from bone than it is bone from flesh, thus his dagger would be a better tool due to the careful approach that he had to take. That was what the dagger was designed for anyway, to cut and deal aggravated damage to flesh.

The corpse was generally rotting as well with its flesh mostly in mush, and whatever blood there was in it had already been dried up. The ethaefal dug his knife into the corpse, sectioning the body while cutting away the flesh at the back in order to take out the spine. Sawing away at the neck, he then separated the skull from the rest of the body. Bringing this gruesome package to a corner of the room so as to not unnecessarily clutter up the shelter, he then began to peel and cut away at the rest of the unnecessary flesh until all that remained was just bone.

Then, he laid out the bone piece properly such that its shape would more properly resemble that of a sword, with the spine fully upright and the skull hanging below. In order to make it more of a threat, he began to carve away at the tip of the spine in order to give it a sharp point. However, a sword was meant to slash as well as pierce, and so he began to sharpen each segment of the sword such that it could cause damage by swinging. Though its edge would not be uniformly sharp like a typical sword, each circular bone segment of the spine he sharpened at the sides with his knife.

Next, he focused on the skull. Sawing away at the bone structure around the nose and the mouth, he widened the eye sockets of the skull until it reached the nose socket. However, he kept the separating bone between the eye sockets in order to use as a handle, similar to how he designed his skull mug.

Now came the task of creating a design to enchant the sword with. He would approach it in two ways, the skull handle and the spine edge. The edge, being the part that would come in contact with the undead wizard, would be designed purely for offense. The handle, being the part of which where the sword is connected to its wielder, would be designed for stability and any other features he could bring forth to enhance the weapon.

The spine was not a singular construct, but instead a series of numerous circular segments connected together. Thus on the surface of each segment, he drew a small circle with the glyph words "ROZA" on it. The next half bell or so was spent in this repetitive fashion, embellishing each circular segment of the spine with the word in the ancient language that stood for death and termination. On the other surface of the spine where he did not write the words, he drew a long path sigil that spanned the length of the bone and onto the skull that was connected to it. At each circular segment, he drew path sigils connecting the "ROZA" circle with the larger path sigil. Doing so was a way of channeling and gathering each written circle in order to direct them to a central source.

At the upper head of the skull where there was still some blank space, he drew a circle, then connected the large path sigil at the spine to it. Within that circle, he drew the word "DJED" that would serve as the central feature to invoke the identity and power of the nuit in a similar design to his other anti-Horac weapons. As he did not know much about the undead wizard other than his seeming invulnerability and his ability to summon earth spikes, he would have to capitalize on that as well as on any other information he could derive.

At the four corners of the skull, he drew four more circles, then connected them to the central "DJED" circle with elaborate path sigils in order to cement the flow of djed. In the first circle, he carved the rough shape of what he thought an earth spike would look like. Within that shape, he drew two small words in crude Nader-Canoch "EARTH", "STURDY" and "STRENGTH". That should hopefully represent what he wanted to bring forth, and by connecting it to the "DJED" circle that pulled the remnant djed of the body, it should hopefully bring the sturdiness and solidity of the wizard's earth spikes onto the flimsy bone weapon. In the second circle, he carved a rough triangular shape that looked like the outline of a typical non-rounded and non-square shield. Within that outline, he drew the ancient language symbol for "FORTRESS". It was a simple word that meant plenty of things simultaneously, and combined with the picture of the shield and the context it was drawing from, it should bestow some of Horac's tough defenses onto the sword to enhance its durability. In the third circle, he drew yet another "DJED" symbol, yet negated it with a cross. This was meant to emphasize the bone weapon's purpose as an anti-djed tool in that it was designed specifically to counter a very specific djed - that of Horac Ageless. In the fourth circle, he inverted and drew this "DJED" symbol upside down and in a mirrored fashion. This represented the inversion of natural life. In other words, that of unlife and the undead, which was the state of Horac. Over this symbol he drew a double edged blade which represented procuring the pros and cons of such a state. With the context of the various malediction circles present, this would grant the longevity and durability of unlife onto the bone weapon, yet make it a weapon that was also the scissors that cut short the unnatural life of the undead. That was the two-in-one symbolism of the fourth circle.

Finally, he applied Middleman's embalming fluids and salts - borrowed grudgingly from the decomposing nuit who could do little but nod slowly less his head dislocated - to the sword, leaving it by the fire in order for the magical reaction that was natural science to happen and to solidify the shape of the weapon to make it firm.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 16th, 2012, 12:05 pm

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"I'm home!" A voice called out, which Eridanus recognized to be that of the poisoner Voodoo. Letting him into their hideout, they then laid out Voodoo's acquisition. As expected, he managed to get everything besides the sword handle. No worries, since he had already planned for that eventuality.

"Alright, back to work," The moonchild remarked. Taking the small log of sturdy wood that Voodoo bought, he proceeded to carve into it to create a thin but strong wooden stem that would fit that of a spear. When the shape was done, he shaved away meticulously to smoothen the surface so that there would be no 'fraying' or splintering of wood when handling that would reduce the structural integrity of the weapon.

At the top of the wooden stem where the spearhead would be attached, he etched a deep cross figure into the stem that corresponded with that of the protruded cross in the spearhead. Of course, he used it to measure carefully such that it would just nicely fit. Next, he poured the resin into the depths of the cross-shaped hole in the wooden stem, and coated the protruded cross of the bone spearhead as well. Placing the spear head over the fire, he allowed the fire to somewhat partially melt the resin on the bone spearhead, then inserted the object into the wooden stem, letting the heat to melt and meld the two objects together. As an added precaution, he used the string to tie the spearhead to the wooden stem using basic circular knots, but doing so multiple times to ensure tightness since he had no knowledge of the stronger advanced knots.

Using the remains of the resin, he applied it to the joints of the bone longsword that were the weakest, namely the part connecting the skull to the spine. Moving it closer to the fire as well, he let it heat for several chimes until the resin became more gooey and liquid, then let it set into the weapon, serving as a sort of artificial cartilage for the morbid blade. Next, he used some of the twine that Voodoo secured to more securely tie the crude longsword he made together to solidify its structural integrity.

Noticing his efforts, the poisoncrafter commented, "I think I have some potions that I can use to solidify your makeshift sword. I'll need some time though."

"Be my guest."

As they worked in silence, there was a commotion of voices outside, and in entered the three agents of their team, with a noticeably living body slumped over the hulking Yeller's shoulder.

"Keep em fresh until it's time," Medal commented, checking for breathing from the unfortunate, unconscious victim.

"Coinsmith, hand me your gauntlets," Eridanus said, receiving the gloves from the mildly confused brawler. "Don't mind me, go help Middleman."

Medal went over to assist Middleman in standing, and they went to a corner of the house in order for some privacy. Ignoring what they were doing, Eridanus focused on the gauntlets, identifying three points in each metal glove that he could slightly enlarge the chain links in order to insert the bone spikes into.

Shoving the spikes into the gauntlet, he then used the string to tie them all together, linking the spikes to each other, then tying the entire tapestry of string onto the glove. Finally, his designs completed, he braced himself and cut a shallow wound into his arm. Moving over each of his maledicted products, he dropped blood over the longsword, the spearhead and the twenty bone shards he made. By the time he reached halfway through the bone shards he had to squeeze out the blood since he was unwilling to make a deeper wound. The result left him quite sore, but it was fortunate that he could invoke his divine connection with Leth to heal his wound by a day, making it much less smaller and less stinging.

"We are ready to face Mark Seven," Eridanus commented silently.

"Leave your spine sword overnight and it should be significantly toughened," Voodoo replied, adding the last of his mysterious potions to it in a careful manner.

Amidst their congratulatory grins to each other, they could also see the man writhing as Middleman forcefully transferred his life essence to the unwilling victim, effectively taking over his body.

"It is time to rest, that matter is not our issue," Eridanus shrugged, and proceeded to set out his bedroll. Rest would be needed if they wanted to pursue their next target effectively.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 16th, 2012, 12:25 pm

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Day 71, Winter of 416 AV
Late Afternoon
Tall Johnny's Casino and Cage Fights

The air of the establishment was celebratory as the rowdy crowd talked loudly and made even louder actions. Bouncers were everywhere, eying everyone with suspicion as addicted gamblers proceeded straight to the tables manned by the casino staff. In the center of the building was a large cage where men were generally scheduled to fight, though it seemed that the fighters were still preparing and had to appeared yet, thus the empty cage.

"Bloody Hank from the Blood Pits against the Dagger Terror of Stumble Alley! Odds are even but both sides have equally large fan bases rooting for them!" A crier's voice piped up as he walked around the establishment, drumming up interest for the upcoming fight. "Battle's in thirty chimes, place your bet now!"

Eridanus had his face uncovered since he was in his human form, but had additional filth and grime on his face to partially obscure his features, as well as soot and ash on his hair to dull the vibrant colors of his highlights. The other members of his team were in similar, nondescript disguises, though Voodoo had stayed behind to take care of the recuperating Middleman who had freshly traded his old body for a new one. Instead, the logistics this time were directed by Medal and assisted by the athletic Coinsmith, leaving Eridanus and Yeller to be in the actual field to secure Mark Six, otherwise known as Eran Sidvol.

From the hand drawn sketches provided by Voodoo, it was easy for the agent to point out the man. He had a boisterous smile and an even more boisterous mohawk that had the height of his wrist to his forearm. The various hair ornaments in in the mohawk only made him more conspicuous. The table he was in was roaring with both people watching and gambling, and Eridanus realized how strikingly familiar this scene was with that of Mark Three, or Eran's friend Medrun Fallike. This time, they had no cursed cup nor elaborate strategies. This was Sunberth, and Voodoo had calculated that there was no need for one. All they needed was efficiency and they could pull off an abduction in broad daylight if they timed it correctly.

Outside of the building Coinsmith was already waiting with a wagon and a horse, and Medal was likewise busy somewhere else arranging other... shadier things in order to make this operation a smooth and hassle free one.

Yeller quickly moved out of the casino, choosing to lounge near the entrance and keeping the way between the building and the nearby squeezed alley clear by intimidating anyone who chose to walk by with a frown and with his size. Eridanus waited for several moments while Mark Six played his game, helping to serve ale to the man repeatedly as he played.

Sooner or later, he would have to relieve himself for that was the nature of alcohol in a man's body. It had to come out, either through natural motions or through the mouth. It seemed that Eran's body chose the former after thirty chimes of gaming, and as the cage fight combatants came out and showed off, the members in the casino turned their gaze to the new attraction. Eran chose this moment to slip out in order to relieve himself, and Eridanus slunk after him silently, walking as casually as he could in order to remain inconspicuous.

The two of them exited the building, and Eran headed to that exact nearby alley, probably hoping to just do his business there without the trouble of finding an outhouse. Yeller whistled as he waited for a potential witness to enter the building, and at the exact moment when there happened to be no one he quickly slammed the peeing man hard on the head, concussing him immediately as he collapsed.

Eridanus ran forward quickly, helping to drag the man further into the alley while Yeller's body provided the screen against potential witnesses who might suddenly walk by.

"Ew, he smells of pee," Eridanus commented, dragging the man by the shoulders gingerly through the alley. At the other end of the alley, Coinsmith stood by casually with his elbows leaning against the wall of the alley. Upon seeing Eridanus tugging at an unconscious body, his attention perked up and he helped to haul the man onto the wagon that was waiting nearby, the horses already ready to move.

"Yeller!" Eridanus gestured, and the giant man ran quickly towards the carriage, entering it as they made their escape.

"This is really one of the easiest retrievals we've done so far," The vantha commented he watched Coinsmith drive the carriage away to their hideout.

"I gotta love Sunberth," Yeller remarked, grinning to himself as he unceremoniously kicked Eran's body to the side of the wagon to allow himself more leg space.

Mark Six secured. Mission accomplished.
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NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

eran sidvol the sixth.

Postby Eridanus on November 16th, 2012, 12:29 pm

Skill Requests
  • Malediction
  • Carving
  • Drawing
  • Weaponry
  • Glyphing
  • Flux
  • Gravedigging
  • Investigation
  • Bodybuilding
  • Stealth
  • Disguise
  • Butchering

Lore Requests
  • Sunberth: Tall Johnny's Casino and Cage Fights
  • Sunberth: Dust Bed
  • Lucky Seven Milestone: Eran Sidvol (sixth)
  • The Fall of the Fifth Order
  • Crafting: Anti-Personnel Bone Spear
  • Crafting: Anti-Personnel Bone Shards
  • Crafting: Anti-Personnel Bone Longsword
NOTICE: I am currently mostly inactive til August. As such, guild activities are temporarily halted (watch out for major revamps, changes and organizations when I'm back in full force). Any activity with Eri will be rather slow as well, but I am slowly readjusting back to "Mizahar life", so to speak, so do PM me if we have a thread that I left hanging and we'll talk.



"You must be one hardcore scholar, Eri." (Laszlo)
First winner of the prestigious Mirage's No Kill Medal.
User avatar
Eridanus
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
 
Posts: 1893
Words: 1312082
Joined roleplay: October 24th, 2011, 2:03 am
Location: Sylira
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Character (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2011 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2011 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

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