09-26-2013, 05:57 PM
As Whirda opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of a rather dishevelled Nyx. She had demolished what remained of the pile of tomes, and had arranged some of them around the desks, each of them open at a specific page. Nyx was leaning over the middle desk, hands on either side of a pretty hefty book, studying it intently. Her staff was slung across her back.
Before Whirda could open her mouth to speak, Nyx interjected. “I know what we're up against, and you're not going to like it.”
Whirda cocked a brow, moving closer to the table. Her eyes began to scan the books on the table – they all seemed to be left open at choice pages. Each of them featured a more detailed description of the blight than the last. “What are they?”
“In Ferelden, we called them darkspawn,” Nyx began, straightening. She held her hands behind her back and began to pace slowly, remembering. “They look like men, but their flesh rots away from their bones. They resemble walking corpses, and they destroy everything in their wake.”
“Like the blighted lands,” Whirda suggested. Even the memory of that place seemed to weigh her heart down with sorrow.
Nyx nodded. “I could teach you everything I know about the darkspawn, but I fear that the rules they play by have changed since they appeared here, and to do so would only waste time.” She paused, and her red eyes flashed up to meet Whirda's. “However, there is one thing I am certain of: the only way to end a Blight is to slay its Archdemon.”
“Archdemon?” Whirda repeated.
“Back in Ferelden, an Archdemon was an Old God that had been found and corrupted by the darkspawn. They tainted the Old God's flesh, manifesting them as an abhorrent beast – a dragon. The Archdemon would lead the horde in their assault.”
“I see. This isn't a typical world, though – do any Old Gods even exist here?” Whirda enquired, folding her arms across her chest. Nyx was right, she wasn't liking this turn of events.
Nyx smiled weakly. “I don't know. I've searched these tomes for any mention of deities, but I can't find anything. None of the historians seem to know anything about religion when it comes to the Omniverse – they only know what they were familiar with back home.”
“Much like us,” Whirda added.
“Because this world is so different, I honestly don't know what this Archdemon will look like, or even if there is an Archdemon. One thing I am certain of is that someone, or at the very least, something, is manipulating them.” Nyx ran a hand through her hair, her eyes seeming distant as she recalled. “The darkspawn are not intelligent creatures. At most, they are capable of basic animal cunning and instinct. Something is directing them.”
“We just need to figure out what. Maybe the Professor can help us figure that out.”
Nyx nodded in agreement, then focused her attention on Whirda. “What did Lady Tyrande want?”
“She wanted to give me this.” Whirda unsheathed her blades, holding them out. “Aina kala.” The holy fire set her blades ablaze, much to Nyx's surprise. “Hauta.” The fire faded.
“You let her enchant your kukri?” Nyx teased.
“The elf queen said it would allow me to 'split undead flesh as easily as snapping a twig underfoot'.” To her credit, Whirda did a stellar impression of Tyrande Whisperwind. “And from what you've just told me, it sounds like we could use all the help we can get.”
“You're not wrong there,” Nyx said airily, moving to close the tomes she had strewn across the room, and neatly pile them back up. “We have a long journey ahead of us. Are you ready to leave?”
“As ready as I'll ever be.”
As the pair prepared to leave the Archives, Whirda couldn't quite shake the feeling that Nyx had changed – she just couldn't quite put her finger on how.
Before Whirda could open her mouth to speak, Nyx interjected. “I know what we're up against, and you're not going to like it.”
Whirda cocked a brow, moving closer to the table. Her eyes began to scan the books on the table – they all seemed to be left open at choice pages. Each of them featured a more detailed description of the blight than the last. “What are they?”
“In Ferelden, we called them darkspawn,” Nyx began, straightening. She held her hands behind her back and began to pace slowly, remembering. “They look like men, but their flesh rots away from their bones. They resemble walking corpses, and they destroy everything in their wake.”
“Like the blighted lands,” Whirda suggested. Even the memory of that place seemed to weigh her heart down with sorrow.
Nyx nodded. “I could teach you everything I know about the darkspawn, but I fear that the rules they play by have changed since they appeared here, and to do so would only waste time.” She paused, and her red eyes flashed up to meet Whirda's. “However, there is one thing I am certain of: the only way to end a Blight is to slay its Archdemon.”
“Archdemon?” Whirda repeated.
“Back in Ferelden, an Archdemon was an Old God that had been found and corrupted by the darkspawn. They tainted the Old God's flesh, manifesting them as an abhorrent beast – a dragon. The Archdemon would lead the horde in their assault.”
“I see. This isn't a typical world, though – do any Old Gods even exist here?” Whirda enquired, folding her arms across her chest. Nyx was right, she wasn't liking this turn of events.
Nyx smiled weakly. “I don't know. I've searched these tomes for any mention of deities, but I can't find anything. None of the historians seem to know anything about religion when it comes to the Omniverse – they only know what they were familiar with back home.”
“Much like us,” Whirda added.
“Because this world is so different, I honestly don't know what this Archdemon will look like, or even if there is an Archdemon. One thing I am certain of is that someone, or at the very least, something, is manipulating them.” Nyx ran a hand through her hair, her eyes seeming distant as she recalled. “The darkspawn are not intelligent creatures. At most, they are capable of basic animal cunning and instinct. Something is directing them.”
“We just need to figure out what. Maybe the Professor can help us figure that out.”
Nyx nodded in agreement, then focused her attention on Whirda. “What did Lady Tyrande want?”
“She wanted to give me this.” Whirda unsheathed her blades, holding them out. “Aina kala.” The holy fire set her blades ablaze, much to Nyx's surprise. “Hauta.” The fire faded.
“You let her enchant your kukri?” Nyx teased.
“The elf queen said it would allow me to 'split undead flesh as easily as snapping a twig underfoot'.” To her credit, Whirda did a stellar impression of Tyrande Whisperwind. “And from what you've just told me, it sounds like we could use all the help we can get.”
“You're not wrong there,” Nyx said airily, moving to close the tomes she had strewn across the room, and neatly pile them back up. “We have a long journey ahead of us. Are you ready to leave?”
“As ready as I'll ever be.”
As the pair prepared to leave the Archives, Whirda couldn't quite shake the feeling that Nyx had changed – she just couldn't quite put her finger on how.