10-06-2013, 05:43 AM
The crisp bite of the evening air on Nyx's reddened face was just what she needed. It soothed her warmed skin and sobered her up to the reality of the task they faced. As she and Whirda descended the steps of the City Hall's entrance, their companions moved to greet them. Cascade nickered and reared his head towards Whirda, and Thanatos prowled forwards and rubbed his head against Nyx's shoulder. Neither of the females wasted any time in mounting their respective beasts and moving towards the inner city gate.
The look that the guards gave them as they stepped aside and opened the gate was one of sheer disbelief: clearly, they had overheard at least part of the Primes' meeting with the Mayor. “Two days?” Whirda heard one of the guards mutter as they passed. She shot him an intimidating look which immediately caused him to clear his throat and stand to attention, as though he had just remembered his manners. She then settled, satisfied, back into Cascade's saddle.
The outer city gate was unaware of the promises that Whirda and Nyx had made, and as such they were met with less resistance.
“Wait!” cried a familiar voice. The pounding of footsteps on cobblestone drew nearer. Nyx turned her head to look at the source of the noise, and was greeted by none other than a red-faced Dobson. “Two days?” he panted, doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. For a young guard, he wasn't very fit. “You're telling me you'll be back in two days?”
'In a body bag, maybe.'
“Do I look like a liar to you, Dobson?” Whirda replied coolly, not even bothering to face the guard.
His face flushed a darker shade of red, and he rapidly shook his head. “N-No, it's just--”
“We appreciate your concern,” Nyx intervened, diplomatic as always. She even offered Dobson a kindly smile.
“You do your job, and we'll do ours,” Whirda added airily. She didn't need to deliver the comment with any degree of spite – her words alone had the desired effect.
Dobson visibly wilted, processing what she had said, before his chest swelled and he adjusted his posture to make himself look bigger. “I will!” he called defiantly, but the Primes had already begun to move. They followed the lantern-lit path out of Darkshire without so much as a backward glance. All the guards could do was stare after them in awe. “Two days...” Dobson repeated, more to himself than anyone else, as he turned and walked away.
Lead by Whirda's determination, the allied Primes kept a brisk pace as they followed the Mayor's vague directions. For the most part, they rode in silence. Both Nyx and Whirda seemed at least mildly unsettled by their surroundings, and by the darkness and mist which vastly reduced their visibility. The further north they rode from Darkshire, the darker the Moors became.
Eventually, they began to move into swamp territory. The ground squelched beneath them as they pressed onwards.
'You're not very observant, are you Nyxy?'' the voice drawled, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
'I'm aware we're being followed, if that's what you mean,' Nyx snapped. And it was true. Whenever Nyx and Whirda pressed onwards, Nyx heard an extra set of foot or hoofprints behind them. Judging by how vigilant Whirda was being as she scouted the area ahead of them, Nyx trusted that she could sense that, too.
Whirda shot Nyx a suspicious look, but said nothing, turning her attention back to their surroundings. She had fought Shades before – she knew what they were up against, and it was not going to be an easy battle. In many ways, she was pleased she had set aside her prejudices and accepted Tyrande's gift – the enchanted kukri should prove useful, she thought. Her fingers closed around the hilt of her kukri as a shadow shambled towards them.
The mist that hung over the Moors did an excellent job of shrouding the creature, but from the awkward way it moved, she was confident it was a member of the Undead – and it was not alone. Cascade whinnied uneasily, but settled as Whirda gave him a reassuring pat with her spare hand. The other was swiftly drawing one of her kukri. She leapt from the horse's saddle easily and gracefully, preparing to attack.
”Whirda! Behind you!” Nyx cried, facing the opposite direction to Whirda. The Undead were slowly closing in on them from behind, too. As Whirda thought about whirling to help Nyx, she spoke again. ”I'll cover you!”
“Aina kala,” Whirda uttered, and in a flash of light her blades were ablaze with holy fire. The new light source served as a focal point for the risen, who honed in on Whirda and all began to make a beeline for the flames.
”Was that really such a good idea?” Nyx yelled uneasily, having already torn open the wound on her left palm, as she began to hurl blood bolts at the advancing corpses to delay their advance. They stumbled from the force of the impact, but otherwise seemed relatively undeterred by her attacks.
Whirda, on the other hand, was laying waste to the undead as if it was nobody's business. Tyrande's enchantment had kept her promise. She barely had to guide her blade, the second any part of the metal touched the rotting flesh, it ignited the entire body, allowing her to cleave them with ease. She was massacring the undead without so much as breaking a sweat. With one smooth motion, the undead that had shambled towards her from the front exploded in a burst of holy fire and began to smoulder as the bog beneath them absorbed what little remained. She pivoted and lunged for the undead moving towards Nyx, making quick work of ending their unlives.
“Hauta,” Whirda finished, the fire subsiding and settling within her blades again. She holstered her kukri and climbed atop Cascade calmly, as though nothing had happened.
'Not bad, princess – but what did you bring to that little onslaught?'
Nyx reached into her robes and began to bandage her hand, pointedly ignoring the bickering voice in the back of her head. Its condescending nature was familiar to her – she knew she had dealt with its kind before. But what was it? She had dealt with many unnatural forces back in Ferelden, it had to be said – but surely they couldn't follow her here? The Blight seemed to be the exception to the rule, but...
“You were saying?” Whirda replied smugly, apparently pleased with the effects Tyrande's enchantment had had on the undead, and beginning to continue their journey. Nyx followed.
'Where did your little friend go?'
”Whirda... Something's wrong,” Nyx began, slowing so she could focus on listening. She couldn't hear the same set of foot or hoofprints she did before. ”We're not being followed anymore.”
The look that the guards gave them as they stepped aside and opened the gate was one of sheer disbelief: clearly, they had overheard at least part of the Primes' meeting with the Mayor. “Two days?” Whirda heard one of the guards mutter as they passed. She shot him an intimidating look which immediately caused him to clear his throat and stand to attention, as though he had just remembered his manners. She then settled, satisfied, back into Cascade's saddle.
The outer city gate was unaware of the promises that Whirda and Nyx had made, and as such they were met with less resistance.
“Wait!” cried a familiar voice. The pounding of footsteps on cobblestone drew nearer. Nyx turned her head to look at the source of the noise, and was greeted by none other than a red-faced Dobson. “Two days?” he panted, doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. For a young guard, he wasn't very fit. “You're telling me you'll be back in two days?”
'In a body bag, maybe.'
“Do I look like a liar to you, Dobson?” Whirda replied coolly, not even bothering to face the guard.
His face flushed a darker shade of red, and he rapidly shook his head. “N-No, it's just--”
“We appreciate your concern,” Nyx intervened, diplomatic as always. She even offered Dobson a kindly smile.
“You do your job, and we'll do ours,” Whirda added airily. She didn't need to deliver the comment with any degree of spite – her words alone had the desired effect.
Dobson visibly wilted, processing what she had said, before his chest swelled and he adjusted his posture to make himself look bigger. “I will!” he called defiantly, but the Primes had already begun to move. They followed the lantern-lit path out of Darkshire without so much as a backward glance. All the guards could do was stare after them in awe. “Two days...” Dobson repeated, more to himself than anyone else, as he turned and walked away.
Lead by Whirda's determination, the allied Primes kept a brisk pace as they followed the Mayor's vague directions. For the most part, they rode in silence. Both Nyx and Whirda seemed at least mildly unsettled by their surroundings, and by the darkness and mist which vastly reduced their visibility. The further north they rode from Darkshire, the darker the Moors became.
Eventually, they began to move into swamp territory. The ground squelched beneath them as they pressed onwards.
'You're not very observant, are you Nyxy?'' the voice drawled, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
'I'm aware we're being followed, if that's what you mean,' Nyx snapped. And it was true. Whenever Nyx and Whirda pressed onwards, Nyx heard an extra set of foot or hoofprints behind them. Judging by how vigilant Whirda was being as she scouted the area ahead of them, Nyx trusted that she could sense that, too.
Whirda shot Nyx a suspicious look, but said nothing, turning her attention back to their surroundings. She had fought Shades before – she knew what they were up against, and it was not going to be an easy battle. In many ways, she was pleased she had set aside her prejudices and accepted Tyrande's gift – the enchanted kukri should prove useful, she thought. Her fingers closed around the hilt of her kukri as a shadow shambled towards them.
The mist that hung over the Moors did an excellent job of shrouding the creature, but from the awkward way it moved, she was confident it was a member of the Undead – and it was not alone. Cascade whinnied uneasily, but settled as Whirda gave him a reassuring pat with her spare hand. The other was swiftly drawing one of her kukri. She leapt from the horse's saddle easily and gracefully, preparing to attack.
”Whirda! Behind you!” Nyx cried, facing the opposite direction to Whirda. The Undead were slowly closing in on them from behind, too. As Whirda thought about whirling to help Nyx, she spoke again. ”I'll cover you!”
“Aina kala,” Whirda uttered, and in a flash of light her blades were ablaze with holy fire. The new light source served as a focal point for the risen, who honed in on Whirda and all began to make a beeline for the flames.
”Was that really such a good idea?” Nyx yelled uneasily, having already torn open the wound on her left palm, as she began to hurl blood bolts at the advancing corpses to delay their advance. They stumbled from the force of the impact, but otherwise seemed relatively undeterred by her attacks.
Whirda, on the other hand, was laying waste to the undead as if it was nobody's business. Tyrande's enchantment had kept her promise. She barely had to guide her blade, the second any part of the metal touched the rotting flesh, it ignited the entire body, allowing her to cleave them with ease. She was massacring the undead without so much as breaking a sweat. With one smooth motion, the undead that had shambled towards her from the front exploded in a burst of holy fire and began to smoulder as the bog beneath them absorbed what little remained. She pivoted and lunged for the undead moving towards Nyx, making quick work of ending their unlives.
“Hauta,” Whirda finished, the fire subsiding and settling within her blades again. She holstered her kukri and climbed atop Cascade calmly, as though nothing had happened.
'Not bad, princess – but what did you bring to that little onslaught?'
Nyx reached into her robes and began to bandage her hand, pointedly ignoring the bickering voice in the back of her head. Its condescending nature was familiar to her – she knew she had dealt with its kind before. But what was it? She had dealt with many unnatural forces back in Ferelden, it had to be said – but surely they couldn't follow her here? The Blight seemed to be the exception to the rule, but...
“You were saying?” Whirda replied smugly, apparently pleased with the effects Tyrande's enchantment had had on the undead, and beginning to continue their journey. Nyx followed.
'Where did your little friend go?'
”Whirda... Something's wrong,” Nyx began, slowing so she could focus on listening. She couldn't hear the same set of foot or hoofprints she did before. ”We're not being followed anymore.”