09-24-2013, 06:47 AM
Nyx was overwhelmed with happiness as she pushed open the door to her room. It offered so many things that she would once have taken for granted, but which she now held in high esteem as though they were luxuries. She felt warm, secure... and above all else, exhausted.
The last few days had been truly harrowing on her, not least because she had been adjusting to the Omniverse's effect on her magic. Back in Ferelden, she could cast Blood Bolts as freely as glares – here, each drop of blood she lost greatly drained her. She hadn't really had an opportunity to rest since she first awakened at the Nexus, what with constantly being faced with the threat of other Primes at the fountain and goblins and god knows what else in the Tangled Green.
Here, she had elves to watch over her, and an ally close by. For the first time since she arrived in the Omniverse, she felt safe. Consequently, the exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave, and her body shook and threatened to collapse. She dragged herself towards the bed, summoned the strength to kick off her boots, and fell face-first into the bed.
-
As dappled sunlight streamed in through the window, crimson eyes slowly fluttered open, blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the light. Nyx sat up and stretched widely, grimacing a little as her back and shoulders cracked. She deduced that she must have slept in a funny position. As the room came into focus, she took a moment to admire where she was. Her gaze fell upon a basket adjacent to a door at the far end of the room, away from the entrance.
She got out of bed and moved towards the basket, tentatively lifting the lid. It was empty. Perhaps some kind of wash basket? Nyx replaced the lid and turned the handle of the door, pushing it open and peering inside. It was a simple wash room, with a tub as the centrepiece. To the left of the tub was a railing with a fresh towel hanging over the side. She wasted no time in beginning to run herself a bath, removing her robes and depositing them in what she assumed was the wash basket.
Realizing she had no other clothes with her, Nyx panicked. Then, a stroke of genius. 'Omnilium.'
As her bath continued to run behind her, Nyx concentrated on summoning a clean set of robes. Within a few minutes, they appeared in her arms. They were almost identical to the robes she had been wearing before, but this set of robes had long sleeves. She hurriedly folded them over the towel rack and rushed to stop the tap, before easing herself gently into the tub.
The warm water soothed her aching muscles and stung the wound on her palm. It was an interesting clash of sensation, to say the least. She did her best to clean the wound, then set about cleaning the rest of her body. It felt good to wash after having spent so much time wearing the same set of clothes. She wondered how the elves must have thought, meeting her when she must have stank to high heaven...
As the blood mage towelled herself dry and dressed, she heard a knock on her door. Hurriedly fastening her robes – which, thankfully, were a perfect fit! - she rushed towards the door and pulled it open. She was greeted by an elf in what looked like royal garb. She suspected he was a messenger of Tyrande.
“Milady, Tyrande requests your presence in the Council. She also sends this. She believes it to be yours?”
The elf presented Nyx with a familiar looking staff. The handle was made of gnarled wood, and at the tip of the staff was a large ruby orb, held in place by wooden prongs. It resembled the staff the leader of the goblin warband had wielded, but it looked... different.
“I hope you don't mind, but our weaponsmith took the liberty of making a few... alterations. I hope they are to your liking?”
“It's perfect. Thank you. Send my regards to the weaponsmith, if you wouldn't mind?”
“With pleasure. If you'll excuse me, I must wake Whirda, then I will show you to the Council Chamber.”
As the elf moved to Whirda's door, Nyx took the opportunity to play with her new staff, twirling it about in her hands. It was so light, it almost felt like an extension of her arm. She wondered how the elves managed to achieve such weightlessness even despite the size of the ruby at the end of the staff. Upon hearing the elf greet Whirda, Nyx realized she was missing her boots and trusty dagger, and rushed to rectify the situation.
When she reappeared at the door, both Whirda and the elf were waiting for her. Whirda looked much more fresh-faced than she had the night before, and almost looked... comfortable. It wasn't something Nyx had been anticipating, since Whirda had made it clear from the beginning that she really didn't trust elves, but it seemed as though she was setting aside their differences for the time being. Heck, maybe even a good night's sleep had something to do with it.
"Good morning, Whirda," Nyx greeted the blonde warmly. "Did you sleep as well as I did?"
"I haven't slept like that in years," she admitted. "You're looking much better than you did yesterday."
"Excuse me, ladies," the elf interjected. "If you'd like to follow me."
Whirda's gaze caught Nyx's staff, and she opened her lips as if to speak, but thought better of it. Nyx caught her gaze and mouthed, 'Later.' The pair fell behind the elf, who easily lead them through a maze of hollowed hallways and chambers until they reached a kind of lift. The lift itself seemed to be a vine-woven basket with a marble interior. Neither Nyx or Whirda could see any kind of pulley system, so they both assumed it was operated by magic. The messenger opened the lift's gate and ushered them inside, closing it behind them and offering a warm smile.
“This is where I leave you. Lady Tyrande awaits.”
Smoothly, the lift began to glide upwards. The girls inside were treated to a view of each of the levels of Yggdrassil as they ascended, and each level seemed more majestic than the last. Nyx found herself idly wondering if any kind of internal class system was at play within the World Tree, but didn't have time to entertain her thoughts as the lift came to a halt. Two sentinels were waiting for them, offering a polite salute before opening the lift.
“You must be Nyx and Whirda,” one of the sentinels said, stepping aside to let them pass. “Lady Tyrande is waiting.”
The last few days had been truly harrowing on her, not least because she had been adjusting to the Omniverse's effect on her magic. Back in Ferelden, she could cast Blood Bolts as freely as glares – here, each drop of blood she lost greatly drained her. She hadn't really had an opportunity to rest since she first awakened at the Nexus, what with constantly being faced with the threat of other Primes at the fountain and goblins and god knows what else in the Tangled Green.
Here, she had elves to watch over her, and an ally close by. For the first time since she arrived in the Omniverse, she felt safe. Consequently, the exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave, and her body shook and threatened to collapse. She dragged herself towards the bed, summoned the strength to kick off her boots, and fell face-first into the bed.
-
As dappled sunlight streamed in through the window, crimson eyes slowly fluttered open, blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the light. Nyx sat up and stretched widely, grimacing a little as her back and shoulders cracked. She deduced that she must have slept in a funny position. As the room came into focus, she took a moment to admire where she was. Her gaze fell upon a basket adjacent to a door at the far end of the room, away from the entrance.
She got out of bed and moved towards the basket, tentatively lifting the lid. It was empty. Perhaps some kind of wash basket? Nyx replaced the lid and turned the handle of the door, pushing it open and peering inside. It was a simple wash room, with a tub as the centrepiece. To the left of the tub was a railing with a fresh towel hanging over the side. She wasted no time in beginning to run herself a bath, removing her robes and depositing them in what she assumed was the wash basket.
Realizing she had no other clothes with her, Nyx panicked. Then, a stroke of genius. 'Omnilium.'
As her bath continued to run behind her, Nyx concentrated on summoning a clean set of robes. Within a few minutes, they appeared in her arms. They were almost identical to the robes she had been wearing before, but this set of robes had long sleeves. She hurriedly folded them over the towel rack and rushed to stop the tap, before easing herself gently into the tub.
The warm water soothed her aching muscles and stung the wound on her palm. It was an interesting clash of sensation, to say the least. She did her best to clean the wound, then set about cleaning the rest of her body. It felt good to wash after having spent so much time wearing the same set of clothes. She wondered how the elves must have thought, meeting her when she must have stank to high heaven...
As the blood mage towelled herself dry and dressed, she heard a knock on her door. Hurriedly fastening her robes – which, thankfully, were a perfect fit! - she rushed towards the door and pulled it open. She was greeted by an elf in what looked like royal garb. She suspected he was a messenger of Tyrande.
“Milady, Tyrande requests your presence in the Council. She also sends this. She believes it to be yours?”
The elf presented Nyx with a familiar looking staff. The handle was made of gnarled wood, and at the tip of the staff was a large ruby orb, held in place by wooden prongs. It resembled the staff the leader of the goblin warband had wielded, but it looked... different.
“I hope you don't mind, but our weaponsmith took the liberty of making a few... alterations. I hope they are to your liking?”
“It's perfect. Thank you. Send my regards to the weaponsmith, if you wouldn't mind?”
“With pleasure. If you'll excuse me, I must wake Whirda, then I will show you to the Council Chamber.”
As the elf moved to Whirda's door, Nyx took the opportunity to play with her new staff, twirling it about in her hands. It was so light, it almost felt like an extension of her arm. She wondered how the elves managed to achieve such weightlessness even despite the size of the ruby at the end of the staff. Upon hearing the elf greet Whirda, Nyx realized she was missing her boots and trusty dagger, and rushed to rectify the situation.
When she reappeared at the door, both Whirda and the elf were waiting for her. Whirda looked much more fresh-faced than she had the night before, and almost looked... comfortable. It wasn't something Nyx had been anticipating, since Whirda had made it clear from the beginning that she really didn't trust elves, but it seemed as though she was setting aside their differences for the time being. Heck, maybe even a good night's sleep had something to do with it.
"Good morning, Whirda," Nyx greeted the blonde warmly. "Did you sleep as well as I did?"
"I haven't slept like that in years," she admitted. "You're looking much better than you did yesterday."
"Excuse me, ladies," the elf interjected. "If you'd like to follow me."
Whirda's gaze caught Nyx's staff, and she opened her lips as if to speak, but thought better of it. Nyx caught her gaze and mouthed, 'Later.' The pair fell behind the elf, who easily lead them through a maze of hollowed hallways and chambers until they reached a kind of lift. The lift itself seemed to be a vine-woven basket with a marble interior. Neither Nyx or Whirda could see any kind of pulley system, so they both assumed it was operated by magic. The messenger opened the lift's gate and ushered them inside, closing it behind them and offering a warm smile.
“This is where I leave you. Lady Tyrande awaits.”
Smoothly, the lift began to glide upwards. The girls inside were treated to a view of each of the levels of Yggdrassil as they ascended, and each level seemed more majestic than the last. Nyx found herself idly wondering if any kind of internal class system was at play within the World Tree, but didn't have time to entertain her thoughts as the lift came to a halt. Two sentinels were waiting for them, offering a polite salute before opening the lift.
“You must be Nyx and Whirda,” one of the sentinels said, stepping aside to let them pass. “Lady Tyrande is waiting.”