10-15-2013, 07:51 AM
The githzerai were unlike anything Nyx had ever seen. She had read about similar serpentine humanoids, but she had never actually seen one in the flesh. Until now, of course; and she found herself wishing she was back in the Circle Tower, where the only threats these monstrosities posed were to her imagination and her dreams. Here, they were tangible, and they posed a very real threat to her life. Whatever life meant, in this strange and unfamiliar universe.
The blood mage tightened the hold she had on her staff, watching Whirda intently as she lunged at the scaly mages. She didn’t have time to admire the battle mage’s combat prowess as a fresh wave of githzerai approached. These were swordsmen, and they had their sights set on Whirda. This was something which Whirda seemed to take in her stride, easily including the swordsmen in her deadly dance.
Nyx swung her staff, unleashing a barrage of blood bolts. The coagulated blood looked almost black, a visual reminder that the blood she was using to fuel her attacks was not her own. The bolts slammed into the lizard men with force, dazing them and slowing their advance for long enough that the Professor was able to unload a round of crossbow bolts into them. By the time they reached the battle mage, they were reasonably weakened.
The issue, of course, was that Whirda’s energy levels were falling fast – though nobody really seemed to notice. Projectiles, both magical and physical, zoomed around the room. Some hit armour, some hit flesh, and some collided with the ‘scenery’. Meanwhile, the room was filled with the screech of steel-on-steel, sparks flying with every confrontation. The room was alive with colours, sounds, tastes and smells.
Nyx realized, a moment too late, that one of the robed zerth had set its sights on Whirda. It hurled a psionic blast at her which collided with deadly precision. The lizard woman snickered victoriously and prepared to hurl another. The blood mage stepped in front of her fallen ally, drawing a circle in the air with her staff. Black blood dripped from the ruby and hovered in the air. As she finished drawing the circle, the blood poured and filled in the outline. It rapidly coagulated, forming a shield, which she quickly seized and used to protect herself just as the zerth fired another psionic blast.
It wasn’t expecting the blood mage to conjure a shield, let alone a shield made of blood. It stared blankly at her, as though it was struggling to process what had happened. The zerth continued to stare unblinkingly at the blood mage as Van Helsing fired a single crossbow bolt through its skull. It let out a strangled cry as it collapsed to the floor. There was a loud clatter as the runed greatsword fell beside it.
The Professor sunk to one knee to get a better aim, and began rapidly firing at the remaining githzerai. “Help her!”
Nyx didn’t need to be told twice. Securing the shield to her wrist and slinging her staff over her shoulder, she offered the battle mage her free hand. Whirda gripped it weakly, and the blood mage used her strength to pull her to her feet. Whirda seemed a little shaky, but forced herself to recover. She bent down to pick up her dropped kukri, but Nyx’s arm stopped her.
“No,” she said firmly, bending down and collecting the fallen kukris. She handed them, hilt first, to Whirda. “We can handle this.”
The blood mage’s eyes shone with a fierce determination as she drew her staff. A smirk played across her lips as she dashed forwards, into the throng of githzerai. Using the shield to protect herself from the flay of swords, she picked her way through the mob and emerged at the opposite side of the room. Nyx held her staff high, then slammed it into the ground. As she did, blood pooled from the ruby and began to coalesce, eventually coagulating into the form of a woman. Essentially, Nyx, but made of blood. It immediately began to hurl blood bolts at the baffled lizard men, who screeched in frustration and lunged at the illusion.
The distraction bought Nyx enough time to dart around the throng of remaining zerth and rejoin Whirda and Van Helsing. She wasted no time in whirling around to face the githzerai. They were still facing where her illusion had been, though one of them had struck at it with its sword and reduced the illusion to nothing more than a pool of blood. Only a handful of the lizard like creatures remained.
The Professor’s assault was relentless. He fired enchanted bolt after enchanted bolt with terrifying accuracy. Not all of his shots had the intended effect – some of the swordsmen had the foresight to wear armour, - but they still made him a formidable foe. His attacks were complimented by Nyx’s, though she decided to mix things up a bit, her strategy changing yet again.
She strapped her staff to her back and drew her favourite dagger from the hilt attached to her calf. With her teeth, she tore the bandage from her palm. The blood mage boldly stepped forwards, her irises and sclera flooding with black.
“Who wants to play with me?” she muttered darkly, setting her sights on the last remaining mage. She slashed her arm with the dagger, and the zerth let out an agonizing yell and tore at the robe on its arm. Its claws made fast work of the cloth, and as the fabric fell away, it revealed a deep gash on its arm, identical to Nyx’s.
The swordsmen stared at her, wild-eyed and fearful. The blood mage’s little display distracted them for long enough that the Professor was able to finish them off, aided by Nyx’s blood bolts. The final githzerai fell to the floor with a satisfying thud.
The blood mage tightened the hold she had on her staff, watching Whirda intently as she lunged at the scaly mages. She didn’t have time to admire the battle mage’s combat prowess as a fresh wave of githzerai approached. These were swordsmen, and they had their sights set on Whirda. This was something which Whirda seemed to take in her stride, easily including the swordsmen in her deadly dance.
Nyx swung her staff, unleashing a barrage of blood bolts. The coagulated blood looked almost black, a visual reminder that the blood she was using to fuel her attacks was not her own. The bolts slammed into the lizard men with force, dazing them and slowing their advance for long enough that the Professor was able to unload a round of crossbow bolts into them. By the time they reached the battle mage, they were reasonably weakened.
The issue, of course, was that Whirda’s energy levels were falling fast – though nobody really seemed to notice. Projectiles, both magical and physical, zoomed around the room. Some hit armour, some hit flesh, and some collided with the ‘scenery’. Meanwhile, the room was filled with the screech of steel-on-steel, sparks flying with every confrontation. The room was alive with colours, sounds, tastes and smells.
Nyx realized, a moment too late, that one of the robed zerth had set its sights on Whirda. It hurled a psionic blast at her which collided with deadly precision. The lizard woman snickered victoriously and prepared to hurl another. The blood mage stepped in front of her fallen ally, drawing a circle in the air with her staff. Black blood dripped from the ruby and hovered in the air. As she finished drawing the circle, the blood poured and filled in the outline. It rapidly coagulated, forming a shield, which she quickly seized and used to protect herself just as the zerth fired another psionic blast.
It wasn’t expecting the blood mage to conjure a shield, let alone a shield made of blood. It stared blankly at her, as though it was struggling to process what had happened. The zerth continued to stare unblinkingly at the blood mage as Van Helsing fired a single crossbow bolt through its skull. It let out a strangled cry as it collapsed to the floor. There was a loud clatter as the runed greatsword fell beside it.
The Professor sunk to one knee to get a better aim, and began rapidly firing at the remaining githzerai. “Help her!”
Nyx didn’t need to be told twice. Securing the shield to her wrist and slinging her staff over her shoulder, she offered the battle mage her free hand. Whirda gripped it weakly, and the blood mage used her strength to pull her to her feet. Whirda seemed a little shaky, but forced herself to recover. She bent down to pick up her dropped kukri, but Nyx’s arm stopped her.
“No,” she said firmly, bending down and collecting the fallen kukris. She handed them, hilt first, to Whirda. “We can handle this.”
The blood mage’s eyes shone with a fierce determination as she drew her staff. A smirk played across her lips as she dashed forwards, into the throng of githzerai. Using the shield to protect herself from the flay of swords, she picked her way through the mob and emerged at the opposite side of the room. Nyx held her staff high, then slammed it into the ground. As she did, blood pooled from the ruby and began to coalesce, eventually coagulating into the form of a woman. Essentially, Nyx, but made of blood. It immediately began to hurl blood bolts at the baffled lizard men, who screeched in frustration and lunged at the illusion.
The distraction bought Nyx enough time to dart around the throng of remaining zerth and rejoin Whirda and Van Helsing. She wasted no time in whirling around to face the githzerai. They were still facing where her illusion had been, though one of them had struck at it with its sword and reduced the illusion to nothing more than a pool of blood. Only a handful of the lizard like creatures remained.
The Professor’s assault was relentless. He fired enchanted bolt after enchanted bolt with terrifying accuracy. Not all of his shots had the intended effect – some of the swordsmen had the foresight to wear armour, - but they still made him a formidable foe. His attacks were complimented by Nyx’s, though she decided to mix things up a bit, her strategy changing yet again.
She strapped her staff to her back and drew her favourite dagger from the hilt attached to her calf. With her teeth, she tore the bandage from her palm. The blood mage boldly stepped forwards, her irises and sclera flooding with black.
“Who wants to play with me?” she muttered darkly, setting her sights on the last remaining mage. She slashed her arm with the dagger, and the zerth let out an agonizing yell and tore at the robe on its arm. Its claws made fast work of the cloth, and as the fabric fell away, it revealed a deep gash on its arm, identical to Nyx’s.
The swordsmen stared at her, wild-eyed and fearful. The blood mage’s little display distracted them for long enough that the Professor was able to finish them off, aided by Nyx’s blood bolts. The final githzerai fell to the floor with a satisfying thud.