10-06-2013, 07:18 PM
That the Blight could infect animals as well as people was an entirely new concept for the Blood Mage, and one she was not entirely comfortable with. Her knowledge and experience had given her a reasonable understanding of how undeath affected humans, as well as the transitional stages the infected go through; from initial contraction to full manifestation of the disease. Animals and wildlife never really factored into the equation, aside from the general knowledge that no biome could be expected to survive if the Blight touched it.
Seeing a blight-touched wolf with her own eyes was a very sobering experience for her. She sought relief from her battle with the godforsaken beast, and the knowledge that it would die (and stay dead) just as the risen corpses did. Realistically, however, Nyx knew that her knowledge was not comprehensive. That was one beast. One. She had no way of knowing how far along 'the transition' it was, or what it was really capable of.
The silver lining, of course, was learning that her Nightsaber was capable of assisting her in battle. Its teeth and claws were much more powerful than she had realized, and she commended herself on selecting such an aggressive animal as her mount – though she also made a mental note to tame the beast later, and teach it that throwing its Master from its back in pursuit of a glorified dog was not appropriate conduct.
One good thing came of the laboured exchange with Dobson – that the Blight plaguing both the Tangled Green and the Pale Moors was something of a known enemy. Both Nyx and Whirda were familiar with similar afflictions, and from the information they had gathered already, the general means were the same: you get bitten, you become infected, the infection assumes control of your body. Of course, the source of the infection itself remained a mystery, and really served to hit home how important it was that they found the Professor.
If they didn't find him soon, Dobson would be collateral damage.
“We'll make it,” Whirda had insisted. Whether she had intended for those words to soothe Nyx or herself was up for debate, but Nyx appreciated them nonetheless.
“You said we have time,” Nyx began with newfound courage, “so let's not waste it.”
The blood mage unsheathed her trusted dagger and hacked at the bottom of her robes, cutting a good few inches off of the bottom. She fashioned the material into a makeshift rope, and quickly began to bind Dobson's hands together. She was careful not to put too much strain on his injured shoulder, but practicality won over compassion, making his discomfort and cries somewhat inevitable. Whirda understood the necessity of binding the young guard, and almost found herself silently commending Nyx on her improvisation. She helped him climb atop her trusted steed's back as soon as his wrists were secure.
Nyx stood, her floor length robes now draped a few inches below her knees, and moved towards Thanatos. The oversized cat was licking the blood from around his maw, purring contentedly, presumably congratulating himself on a job well done. Despite her prior annoyance at his willingness to dismount her, the blood mage scritched behind his ears before mounting him again. Apparently seeking penance for his past actions, Thanatos dipped his body low to help her climb atop him with ease.
“We ride straight?” Nyx repeated, facing northwest. Whirda nodded.
The battle mage and blood mage dug their heels into their respective beasts in perfect unison. Both equine and feline tore into the night, driven by equal parts fear and determination. The swamp was silent, save for their paw and hoofprints as they ventured northbound. No undead abominations sought to intercept them on their journey, though both riders remained vigilant. If any appeared, they would be ready.
After a few hours of solid riding, Whirda saw fit to speak her mind. They were making good time in their pursuit of the Shade's den, and she didn't want to be plagued by doubts or suspicions when the time came to actually face the Shade that waited for them. The more ground they covered, the less time Whirda had to clear the air. They weren't ideal circumstances – what with a semiconscious Dobson muttering incomprehensible statements behind her, - but they would have to do.
“Nyx,” Whirda began, casting a sidelong glance at the blood mage. “What is going on with you?”
“What do you mean?” Nyx replied distantly. She inwardly cursed the battle mage's perceptiveness.
'She's on to you~' the voice taunted in a singsong voice, seeming thoroughly pleased with itself.
“That is exactly what I mean,” Whirda snapped, clearly offended by Nyx's attempt to play dumb. “You keep spacing out, like you've just seen a ghost.”
The blood mage didn't know how to respond. She froze, as seemed to be a common occurrence for her nowadays. Her crimson eyes darted around furtively, looking at anything but Whirda. This was something the battle mage didn't take too kindly to.
“Look at me,” Whirda growled. Nyx slowly dragged her gaze up to meet hers, in much the same manner as a scolded child. “Tell me what's going on.”
Nyx sighed, seeing no other option but to comply with Whirda's wishes. ”Alright,” she began reluctantly, ”but you probably won't like it.”
Whirda's eyes narrowed. “Try me.”
”I keep hearing this voice. I don't know who or what it belongs to – all I know is that it knows more about me than I've ever felt comfortable sharing. Like my last name.” The blonde cocked an eyebrow, clearly curious. Nyx recognized the unspoken prompt to reveal her last name, but chose to ignore it instead. ”I think I remember experiencing something similar, but it was such a long time ago, I--”
“You've experienced this before?” Whirda interjected incredulously.
Nyx nodded solemnly, or at least as solemnly as was humanely possible when riding a sprinting Nightsaber. ”I have, back in Ferelden. It happened in the events leading up to my Harrowing.”
“Your Harrowing? What's that, some kind of test?”
”You're not far off. It's a trial all apprentice mages must pass if they wish to be recognized as full members of the Circle of Magi. Failure is not an option.”
“What does the trial involve?”
”I can only speak from my own personal experience, but I used Lyrium – a highly potent mineral – to enter a realm called The Fade. When I had passed through The Veil (the transition between this realm and the next), a demon was waiting for me. It sought to possess my body and enter the living realm. Either I resisted temptation, or I opened myself up to demonic possession.”
Whirda's face contorted with disgust at the blood mage's explanation, but she forced herself to remain objective to try and understand her dilemma. “The demon spoke to you before you fought it?”
”Something like that,” Nyx agreed, nodding. Whirda had actually hit the nail on the head. ”Though for me, the demon's influence never really left. Until I wound up here, that is.”
“If you defeated the demon, how was it able to communicate with you still?”
”Your guess is as good as mine. There are reports of other mages who practice my discipline experiencing something similar, so maybe that has something to do with it.”
“Do you think it's the same demon contacting you now as the one you spoke to in... Ferelden, was it?”
”Ferelden, yes. I'm not sure if it's the same demon. Truthfully, I don't really remember much of my life in Ferelden, so I'm not really sure if I recognize this voice or not.”
'Liar, liar, pants on fire...'
This time, it was Whirda's turn to bristle. As she opened her mouth to interrogate Nyx further, she was distracted by Dobson's bound hands prodding at the base of her spine. In the heat of the blood mage's confession, neither she or Whirda had noticed the change in atmosphere. The air was so thick and heavy that every breath felt like a massive effort. Their muscles felt weakened by the strain of holding them upright – it was a sensation Whirda recognized, though she really wished she didn't. They were closing in on the Shade.
Seeing a blight-touched wolf with her own eyes was a very sobering experience for her. She sought relief from her battle with the godforsaken beast, and the knowledge that it would die (and stay dead) just as the risen corpses did. Realistically, however, Nyx knew that her knowledge was not comprehensive. That was one beast. One. She had no way of knowing how far along 'the transition' it was, or what it was really capable of.
The silver lining, of course, was learning that her Nightsaber was capable of assisting her in battle. Its teeth and claws were much more powerful than she had realized, and she commended herself on selecting such an aggressive animal as her mount – though she also made a mental note to tame the beast later, and teach it that throwing its Master from its back in pursuit of a glorified dog was not appropriate conduct.
One good thing came of the laboured exchange with Dobson – that the Blight plaguing both the Tangled Green and the Pale Moors was something of a known enemy. Both Nyx and Whirda were familiar with similar afflictions, and from the information they had gathered already, the general means were the same: you get bitten, you become infected, the infection assumes control of your body. Of course, the source of the infection itself remained a mystery, and really served to hit home how important it was that they found the Professor.
If they didn't find him soon, Dobson would be collateral damage.
“We'll make it,” Whirda had insisted. Whether she had intended for those words to soothe Nyx or herself was up for debate, but Nyx appreciated them nonetheless.
“You said we have time,” Nyx began with newfound courage, “so let's not waste it.”
The blood mage unsheathed her trusted dagger and hacked at the bottom of her robes, cutting a good few inches off of the bottom. She fashioned the material into a makeshift rope, and quickly began to bind Dobson's hands together. She was careful not to put too much strain on his injured shoulder, but practicality won over compassion, making his discomfort and cries somewhat inevitable. Whirda understood the necessity of binding the young guard, and almost found herself silently commending Nyx on her improvisation. She helped him climb atop her trusted steed's back as soon as his wrists were secure.
Nyx stood, her floor length robes now draped a few inches below her knees, and moved towards Thanatos. The oversized cat was licking the blood from around his maw, purring contentedly, presumably congratulating himself on a job well done. Despite her prior annoyance at his willingness to dismount her, the blood mage scritched behind his ears before mounting him again. Apparently seeking penance for his past actions, Thanatos dipped his body low to help her climb atop him with ease.
“We ride straight?” Nyx repeated, facing northwest. Whirda nodded.
The battle mage and blood mage dug their heels into their respective beasts in perfect unison. Both equine and feline tore into the night, driven by equal parts fear and determination. The swamp was silent, save for their paw and hoofprints as they ventured northbound. No undead abominations sought to intercept them on their journey, though both riders remained vigilant. If any appeared, they would be ready.
After a few hours of solid riding, Whirda saw fit to speak her mind. They were making good time in their pursuit of the Shade's den, and she didn't want to be plagued by doubts or suspicions when the time came to actually face the Shade that waited for them. The more ground they covered, the less time Whirda had to clear the air. They weren't ideal circumstances – what with a semiconscious Dobson muttering incomprehensible statements behind her, - but they would have to do.
“Nyx,” Whirda began, casting a sidelong glance at the blood mage. “What is going on with you?”
“What do you mean?” Nyx replied distantly. She inwardly cursed the battle mage's perceptiveness.
'She's on to you~' the voice taunted in a singsong voice, seeming thoroughly pleased with itself.
“That is exactly what I mean,” Whirda snapped, clearly offended by Nyx's attempt to play dumb. “You keep spacing out, like you've just seen a ghost.”
The blood mage didn't know how to respond. She froze, as seemed to be a common occurrence for her nowadays. Her crimson eyes darted around furtively, looking at anything but Whirda. This was something the battle mage didn't take too kindly to.
“Look at me,” Whirda growled. Nyx slowly dragged her gaze up to meet hers, in much the same manner as a scolded child. “Tell me what's going on.”
Nyx sighed, seeing no other option but to comply with Whirda's wishes. ”Alright,” she began reluctantly, ”but you probably won't like it.”
Whirda's eyes narrowed. “Try me.”
”I keep hearing this voice. I don't know who or what it belongs to – all I know is that it knows more about me than I've ever felt comfortable sharing. Like my last name.” The blonde cocked an eyebrow, clearly curious. Nyx recognized the unspoken prompt to reveal her last name, but chose to ignore it instead. ”I think I remember experiencing something similar, but it was such a long time ago, I--”
“You've experienced this before?” Whirda interjected incredulously.
Nyx nodded solemnly, or at least as solemnly as was humanely possible when riding a sprinting Nightsaber. ”I have, back in Ferelden. It happened in the events leading up to my Harrowing.”
“Your Harrowing? What's that, some kind of test?”
”You're not far off. It's a trial all apprentice mages must pass if they wish to be recognized as full members of the Circle of Magi. Failure is not an option.”
“What does the trial involve?”
”I can only speak from my own personal experience, but I used Lyrium – a highly potent mineral – to enter a realm called The Fade. When I had passed through The Veil (the transition between this realm and the next), a demon was waiting for me. It sought to possess my body and enter the living realm. Either I resisted temptation, or I opened myself up to demonic possession.”
Whirda's face contorted with disgust at the blood mage's explanation, but she forced herself to remain objective to try and understand her dilemma. “The demon spoke to you before you fought it?”
”Something like that,” Nyx agreed, nodding. Whirda had actually hit the nail on the head. ”Though for me, the demon's influence never really left. Until I wound up here, that is.”
“If you defeated the demon, how was it able to communicate with you still?”
”Your guess is as good as mine. There are reports of other mages who practice my discipline experiencing something similar, so maybe that has something to do with it.”
“Do you think it's the same demon contacting you now as the one you spoke to in... Ferelden, was it?”
”Ferelden, yes. I'm not sure if it's the same demon. Truthfully, I don't really remember much of my life in Ferelden, so I'm not really sure if I recognize this voice or not.”
'Liar, liar, pants on fire...'
This time, it was Whirda's turn to bristle. As she opened her mouth to interrogate Nyx further, she was distracted by Dobson's bound hands prodding at the base of her spine. In the heat of the blood mage's confession, neither she or Whirda had noticed the change in atmosphere. The air was so thick and heavy that every breath felt like a massive effort. Their muscles felt weakened by the strain of holding them upright – it was a sensation Whirda recognized, though she really wished she didn't. They were closing in on the Shade.