The Osiris Open 2017: Round 2 (Storm Veritas vs Duffy)

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Skull Woods was one of those places which had no palpable reason to exist.

It was a creaking shack created by nature to serve as a reminder that things could always be much, much worse. The unnatural, choking mist that swirled and sprawled on the forest floor was the first thing that spoke of a strange sort of wrongness. Trails were overhung by archways of ribcages once belonging to giant beasts. Pools of calcium liberally flecked the floor. The sickly white substance seemed to possess liquid properties which only reminded of the maggot-like texture of the eyes of a dead man who had been forgotten in his home for a few months, ready to burst at the slightest touch.

The smoke made no sound however and only parted to swallow up the feet of men as they marched upon the giant dead, festering eyeball of the forest floor.

Even now, the rotting odors of mushy and dead leaves wafts from under the skin of the mist.

[Duffy]

The Skull Woods was not the likeliest of place to find a ten-year-old running rumbustious and rampant through its boughs and rotten pools. Still, here he was, eyes wide, heart racing, and all the fears of bedtime tales and under the bed monsters chasing him. At dawn, his adult self-had marched across the threshold armed to the teeth and ready to gut another bastard in the pursuit of glory, of being somebody once again. It’s funny how quickly arrogance undid the best of intentions.

“Duffy!”

He turned, nostrils flaring and hands twitching. The red headed woman over the rise was only his second greatest concern. The first was the cavalcade of skeletons that surrounded him. Though the beasts were long dead, reliquaries of nature’s power, his fears told him some still lived amongst the skeletal trees and crumbled cairns. He began to climb up the rise, finding the courage to face at least one of his demons before they inevitably consumed him.

“Duffy come back!”

“Ruby!”

The grubby, mud sodden bard appeared in the spellsinger’s sights and immediately regretted trying to conquer his fear. Two things annoyed Ruby. Getting her dress dirty, and running out of gin. So far from home, and in such a desperately dire pathetic fallacy, she was stricken with anger born of both. Her eyes practically burnt a hole in Duffy’s chest.

“You get down here right now young man or I swear I’ll!” She didn’t need to finish her threat. Duffy knew exactly what she meant and where she’d put it.

He skittered down to her side, comically large swords strapped to his back and tear tracks marring his apparently pretty face. He smirked, then remembered his place. His sheepish frown set the scene.

“You’ve been crying?” She sighed. “Duffy, you need to grow up literally and metaphorically. You screamed at a spider and ran off into the wilds on your own. Anything could have happened!”

Duffy distinctly remembered it being a giant spider, but didn’t feel he was in any position to argue. He had forgotten how long he had been running for, fear had a way with time that undid even the best laid plans. He looked around, still twitching at the shadows and cringing every time a rib cage towered out of the quagmire or a tree wrapped in spider’s webs and rotten fungus promises a swift death.

“But I okay, Ruby. I don’t know whatta do.” He pouted.

Ruby subverted her own expectations and delivered a firm bac hand across her brother’s cheek. The slap echoed through the trees, and pools bubbled and branches bobbed as the unseen watchers of the woods fled for fear they too would cross the wrong path of Ruby Winchester.

“Is that better?” She folded her arms across her chest, forehead beading with sweat and the humid and cloying atmosphere of their misfortunate battleground.

Duffy blinked. His check turned red as capillaries burst and fear drained from him.

“Yeah.” He sniffled, holding back another teary wave.

[Storm Veritas]

“Stay calm, big fella. No reason to get your balls in a twist over a bunch of creepy ribs. Probably just a scary looking space put together by a bunch of goddamned pussies to chase off the actual terrors. Town must be close, and likely not well guarded.”

Storm Veritas had seen what he always presumed to be damned near everything in his travels, and he worked to assure his mighty steed that there was nothing to fear. In spite of his worldliness, he couldn’t help but tremble a bit at this clever façade; the land strewn with bones from various beasts and baddies, with manufactured hallways of ribs stretching up from the earth and hands reaching up at the man and his horse, bones tethered together with either mud or magic. With a flick of the wrist, he fired a diminutive blast of electrical energy at one of the outstretched limbs; it exploded and tumbled to the earth without any sort of contention. The crackle-snap, the boom and bluster… these bones fared no better than human ones.

We’re still getting the f*ck out of here. I heard Concordia was largely unguarded these days; didn’t expect something so elaborate. What happened to a few heads on stakes?

His mind drifting, he tried to square up why Concordia would build such elaborate defenses. They had the use of the rangers at their disposal for centuries, and while Storm gave them only a cursory speck of respect, he couldn’t help but notice the rest of the local rubes about Corone in general spoke of Them as if they descended from the clouds on Am’aleh’s own chariot.

Could be some religious group, a band of local fools. Could be a pet cemetary, affixed with bones of the big ones to seem more imposing. Could be an old prank that no one bothered to clean up.

Could be damned near anything. Just go.

The clip-clop of heavy hooves yielded to a splish-sploosh type of sound as they entered more slippery terrain. The wretched odor of decomposing leaves implied this place had been long since abandoned, and yet the mighty ribs (which might have belonged to some sort of dragon) remained upright and firm. Attila brayed beneath him, kicking front hooves and chuffing mouthfuls of air forward in frosty clouds of disquiet.

“Easy. Nothing to worry about, Attila. Nothing but smoke and mirrors.”

Smoke and mirrors and some very probable magic hanging over this horrible place. Get out get out get out.

A swift but not angry heel-kick landed in the thick muscle of the ebony horse’s haunches, spurring the stallion forward in a steady march. Storm rode tall in the saddle, grey eyes squinted in a fine line as he tried to reconcile whatever loomed ahead.
It was a tandem, two smaller ones, a male and female yapping back and forth in the middle of this great mess. Too many times he had underestimated the little at the expense of his skin and bones; he would not be caught off guard ahead. Fixing his tailored travel coat taut about his sinewy, muscular frame, he ran long fingers through his hair to look less fatigued, more official. As the great beast strode forward, the hands of the aging wizard gathered energy, a barely visible white aura faintly humming about his knuckles.

“Evening, folks. Hell of a place to get lost! You wouldn’t happen to be from Concordia, would you?”

Despite a gleaming white smile and brilliant blue-gray eyes, the dimpled aristocrat kept a keen eye on the duo. If they worked quickly without his focus, atop a horse could prove a terrible place to be.

[Duffy]

Ruby turned to her left and eyed up the newcomer. She had been so hellbent on knocking some sense into her brother she had been remiss and now here some upstart was, intruding on their family time. Whilst he didn’t appear to be immediately dangerous, you never could tell these days. She tensed her stomach, half through anticipation of trouble, and half through accidentally breathing in the fungal aroma of their necrotic surroundings.

“Scara Brae, as it happens, though I’ve been through Concordia enough times to know you’re not from there.” She meant it only half-barbed, and rested her hands on her hips to show that she wasn’t entirely comfortable with small talk.

“Wotcha doin’ ere?” Duffy sniffled. He clutched at his swords and turned his feet inwards, remembering that it was supposed to be a defensive stance, but putting across to their ‘guest’ that he looked like he was about to piss himself.

“By which the scamp means, can we help you?” Ruby had to wonder. This was not the place a noble wished to find themselves. She had seen enough aristocrats in her time to know that whatever title and line this man came from, she wouldn’t be impressed. No doubt he’d rattle off a tall tale and try and warrant their aid and as ever she did, names and namesakes aside, she’d tell him where to go not so politely.

[Storm Veritas]

Ugh, rude people. Rude people are the f*cking WORST. Don’t they know that shit can get you killed?

When the girl implied that Storm was foreign, or lying, or strange in some form, he was upset. When the boy gripped at his sword like it was going to end up anywhere besides halfway up his own ass, the wizard grew angry. When the girl tried to pivot and offer disingenuous help to him, the condescension made his blood positively boil. The energy reverberating about his fists was itching to vaporize these two strangers, positively infuriated with the tandem.

Take a breath. Get Attila the hell out of here. Don’t tip your hand until it is time to blast these two stupid assholes two-thirds to f*cking Salvar.

The smile on the aristocratic face didn’t waver as Storm Veritas slowly, gently descended from his great steed, allowing the energy in his hands to subside within his leather riding gloves. He tapped the muscular neck of the horse and instructed Attila to “take five, eat up”, which was his secret command for “walk, canter, trot, run; quietly get away.” There was no sense in having his ride get wounded with an errant shot; the last one Storm had met went straight for the horse. Travelers were typically monstrous like that.

“I could use help, actually.” He smiled, gently tugging at the riding gloves and folding them into his front vest pocket. The squish-squash of hooves indicated Attila was slowly marching away, keeping the furtive and inauspicious movement about him all the while. “It seems your boy here needs a lesson, and that’s helpful, as I need some prac…”

The F*CK is that!?

In the soft earth between the magician and the two travelers, one of the bony hands that protruded from an otherwise nondescript radius and ulna closed into a fist. Aside from the absurdity of the had-to-be mirage came a very convincing grinding sound, as though bricks or stone were wrested free from mortar. In complete disbelief, Storm stood entirely motionless, glaring at the hand, as if willing it to move again.

“You see that shit!? Someone sneak some drak-bile in my pipe-pouch?"

His glare was answered as the hand reopened, turning at the wrist impossibly as the forearm bones churned through mud as though it were water. The open palm faced down, and moved up as the arm surged up away from the mud before bending at the newly arisen elbow, pressing into the leaf-strewn floor. Fingertips exploded from the mud some two feet away, as the left hand of this abomination began to pull itself free from some magical internment.

Without another word, Storm pulled the Rat from its scabbard behind his hips, the blade humming a cool blue-green as it spun effortlessly into his right hand. His left palm began glowing white with a wild glow. To his right, a second skeletal hand began to move from the ground. Behind him, a third hand erupted not ten feet from where he stood. The rude travelers were also joined by a newly animated hand, and a fourth apparition emerging from the soft, wet earth.

The traveling adventurer was ready to pounce, but first saved his gaze for the kids. Had they been the source of these monstrosities? Was it an elaborate trap to kill and rob the wanderers? It seemed a big-time trap to steal what must be small-time money. Things didn’t add up; Storm asked as much as he accused.

“What the hell are you two up to? Necromancers die just as easy as humans…”

[Duffy]

Ruby wanted very much to lie through her teeth. She had enough over her long years and another upstart was the last thing she needed now. In a forest of mud and shit and mire she couldn’t think of anything worse than dealing with ‘authority’.

“Oh, we’re just, you know, enjoying the scenery.” Her eyes smouldered as much as her tone.

The wood cracked and shuddered in response, reminding them that they were very much not alone. Somewhere out there in the fetid heath skulked beasts and villains and yet, despite all the horrors nature could unleash on them at any moment the thing that concerned her most was the man before her.

“By which I mean I’m teaching this little scamp a thing or two about bravery.” She turned to Duffy, who baulked beneath her glare. He whimpered, to emphasise her point.

“I learnin’ to be a man again,” he said, fighting through the urge to run away and not have to face up to his innumerable problems.

“Again?” The supposed gentleman raised an eyebrow.

“I ain’t always like dis.” Duffy blinked. The adult behind his eyes tried to make sense of what the man could be doing here, in a place like this. All told, the Tantalum Troupe were always neck deep in the thick of it. This man appeared to be more used to parlours and debutante balls than turning tricks in the backwaters.

“Forgive us.” Ruby sighed. “I can categorically state that we are not necromancers.” She shuddered. “We’re quite alive and unfortunately not able to summon a horde of the undead to get us out of this mess.” She folded her arms across her ample chest. Though still guarded, she relaxed to show that she was growing at ease with their new company.

“Then, I ask again, what are you doing here?”

“Duffy here is supposed to be duelling with another compatriot of the ego but unfortunately he is…having one of those days. The Osiris Open doesn’t usually let children compete, so I’m trying to shock it out of his system.” She thought for a moment. The still silence, thick as the swamp waters that threatened to swallow them up all around, served to solidify the severity of their situation. She smirked.

“Perhaps you might like to indulge a lady for a moment?” She pointed at Duffy. “Show the whelp a thing or two. You noblemen like to wave swords about to prove you’re not all talk and there’s actually something in your codpiece besides dust.”

Duffy looked to his sister, cheeks still tarnished with rivers of salty tears, and then looked at the gentleman opposite. He took a dutiful step back, swords clutched lie a teddy bear in his arms, and then cleared his throat. Ruby seldom asked questions. She more made statements with assertive inflections. He fumbled his hands to the hilts of his blades and jolted them, losing them from their sheaths and taking them into his diminutive confidence. He walked forwards, altogether far too small for the daggers (longswords to him), and not entirely sure if he’d last five seconds.

“Whaddya ya say, mister?” His eyes told the stranger that he was far from ready to do anything other than piss himself. But, Ruby Winchester had a strange way of making men do things that even the strongest willed tyrants would find hard to resist.

[Storm Veritas]

What part of reanimated skeletal monstrosities don’t you assholes GET!?

Storm was positively flabbergasted by the tandem of young adventurers, simply amazed at their boldness in the face of the horrors crawling up from the earth about them all. The girl seemed to prattle on and on, either oblivious or indifferent to the handful of bone-bundles pulling itself from the mud about them all. To top things off, she attempted to flirt with him, a seductive and alluring game that felt all the more absurd in the evening. Admittedly, he did catch a good eyeful of soft chest flesh in the moonlight.

Shake that sweet ass later, sweetheart. You’ve got to be kidding me with this siren routine right now.

Storm tried to keep an eye on the duo as he stepped back, fully aware that Attila had now gained significant distance from them. The open, dead maw of a skeleton looked as though it tried to groan at the wizard beneath its soulless, empty eye sockets. The beastly thing was crawling towards Storm before it could walk, pulling itself forward as legs were dragged free of the mud.

“Not now, sweetheart. Maybe make yourself useful, or for your own sake, screw. If you stand here and get in my way, you won’t want to be in my way when I’m done with these bony bastards.”

The Rat continued to hum from his hand, but the blade could wait. This was elegant business. Storm raised his hand to the skeleton, considering how the bones seemed brown, yellow and filthy, rather than the gleaming white he had envisioned in childish nightmares. As his fingers buzzed white, the smell of the fresh, clean ozone cut through the dank and fetid air. A wicked blast fired forward, sending bone mass shattering away in a spectacular spray pattern. A series of thump sounds toned about the place.

One down, maybe four to go. Need to be quick, keep an eye on those morons.

The electromancer began to pivot, looking for his next target before he heard an awful sound. The drudging of earth continued from whence he had fired his ferocious blast. There, a ludicrous mass lurched ahead; a half torso, split at the sternum, with a right shoulder and head nowhere to be seen. It slowly moved, somehow bearing down towards him. The absence of a head devoid of eyes seemed to do little to impact whatever sensing mechanisms drove the horrible thing.

“How do you kill these f*cking things!?”

His voice had deepened and carried a rage with it now, nostrils flared and eyes white with hot rage. His left hand was already buzzing again, ready to obliterate the same skeletal monstrosity that dragged at him. Scanning his perimeter, there were now four full skeletons about them, each nearly fully unearthed and moving forwards.

Can I trust these two to help, or is sugartits going to sweet-talk me right up until the knife slips between my shoulder blades? Maybe I cut the chit-chat and just blow them away to get things moving.

He would give them a moment of trust; there was a chance they aren’t here to kill him, but the calcium creations left no doubt.

[Duffy]

As lightning crackled and fire convalesced, Ruby tried to piece together how she’d been so fucking oblivious. They’d crawled right up on top of them without her noticing. She bit her lip, ever a sign that a woman was deep in thought, and unsheathed the elven blade at her hip. Named Lucrezia after one of her other lives, it began to sing in high elven, relishing it’s release after a long sleep. She turned slowly, careful not to let her guard slip any further. Four remained, hangered and limping on whatever notion of life they clung to. Ruby stopped rotating when her gaze met Duffy, now whimpering on his hands and knees, swords discarded in favour of using his hands to hide from his troubles.

“Oi, you little shit. Get a grip!”

Forgetting herself for a moment, the spell singer strode up to her brother, swatted away his hands and delivered a backhand that could end wars. The bard widened his eyes. For a moment, he remembered who he was. Then, as the swell of pain through reddened cheek brought him back to life, he remembered who she was.

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?” He roared, as much as a ten-year-old could and pushed himself upright. His nostrils flared, snotty little tribelets of emotion. “You only ‘ad to ask!” He balled his fists when he saw she had drawn her weapon, reckoning for a fight.

“Duffy. I’m going to calmly and politely as you to look at your surroundings.” Ruby stepped to one side to break free of his stare and offer the reality of their situation as a bargaining chip.

Duffy looked. The fetid heath, a repeating horror ever present paled insignificantly to two other scenes. One, the would-be gentlemen suddenly alive with the crackle of sorcery and the fury of a man uncertain as to wherever or not death stared him in the face. Two, the undead, lingering and unclean and bearing down on them all indiscriminately.

“Where’d they come from?” He blinked. All his fears fell away.

“A question I’m sure we’ll answer once we’ve gotten ourselves out of this mess.” Ruby span her blade full-circle and strode to the mage’s side. “They’re long dead. Smash them apart, cut off limbs, anything to immobilise them!”

Duffy watched Ruby as she took her first steps into a dance long practiced. His young eyes fought back tears at the sight of his sister’s life hanging in the balance. Another fireball and a spiralling slash severed the limb of the nearest skeleton, but it only set it back. The empty eye sockets stared as bones clicked and it reoriented itself about its new form. It continued towards them silent and determined.

“So sorry about the confusion my dear,” Ruby said apologetically as she ducked under a scrabbling claw and shoulder rushed the skeleton. She gagged, but stayed upright, as the smell of death flooded her nostrils like an unwelcome guest. “A lady’s honour that these are nothing,” she jumped back out of a counter strike, “nothing at all to do with us.”

A staccato rhythm drowned out the man’s no doubt witty response. Ruby turned, catching a glimpse of young Duffy turn into a man still lacking any balls. The tufts of black hair danced in the uprush of magic and blue ribbons danced about his limbs. She rolled her eyes. Promising the world did nothing to drag him out of his sulking, but as soon as a ‘fair maiden’ was in danger he came running.

“I would not remotely be sad if one of those fireballs caught him in the ribs,” she muttered to the mage, winked, and the trio formed a triangle on the high road through the low lands. “Glad you could join us at last!” These words did reach the bard’s ears, who wiped his tears away and plucked from the ether a black handled katana.

“I’m so sorry, dear heart, but I’m here now.” Back turned to the spell singer and the barbed tongue blastomancer, Duffy watched the two skeletons on his side crest the rise onto the road and free themselves proper of the pearl swamp waters. “Between your insurmountable sarcasm and self-loathing, what do you two propose to do about them?”

[Storm Veritas]

In the bedlam that had erupted about him, the wizard was grateful that at least the two impish little would-be children didn’t attack him directly. He had expected at least one of the little monsters to come at him with some sort of blind-sided attack. Were it going to be one of them, it would have to be the girl, as the boy had proven himself absolutely useless.

Like tits on a bull, boy; I’d slice you open and throw you to these walking bone piles like a porterhouse to the hounds if I didn’t think the girl might be able to get away and yap about it.

For his frustration with the bundling heap of wasted steel, the magician found the girl to be quite competent. Her sword was obviously touched by magic, and it seemed to chant some foreign song when she pulled her blade from the sheath. Looking down at the simply-somewhat magical Rat, the traveler felt a pang of jealousy at the inferiority of his own device.

Fire out ghost rats and glow. Real f*cking useful YOU are.

The deep burning stench of death was all about them now, and at last that boy produced a simplistic sword and came to stand as a trio amongst Storm and the girl, both of whom had continued dueling against a wave of the undead. From here, one quick pivot and twist and either one of these strange kids could drive a sword between his ribs before he could so much as turn to witness his own death. In fairness, they had given him the same level of trust, a decision that would have served to end days for many before them.

“Welcome to the shit, boy. Glad you could join us. Let me give you a hand with your smiling couple over there.”

The skeletons wore no metal, but the finally emboldened lad had plenty of buckles, snaps, and armor components about him. The possibility of throwing the boy with a quick electromagnetic pulse by his metal adornments seemed to Veritas a reasonable strategy, but this one would be a more effective meat shield closer to his hip. For the duo of approaching horrors, Storm would resort to his oldest trick.

“Stand down, try not to stare. Mind your ears.”

A simply outrageous pulse of twisting electric hate flashed from the sorceror’s palm towards the approaching skeleton. The blast was targeted at the spine, and took root there, completely incinerating the stack of little, biscuit shaped bones that the old fool failed to know as “vertebrae”. The long chain of black biscuits crumbled, the horrible smell of burning bone and marrow dramatically trumping the pre-existent smell of human decomposition. In truth, the adventurer felt his eyes water involuntarily as that burning bone attacked his nostrils with anger. When the now disorganized limbs fell to the earth, this particular pile looked as though it had become indifferent to the three intruders.

Shit, overdid it a bit there.

Storm could feel his fingers numb and tingling, the unmistakable buzz of his magic being exhausted. For all of his mystical might, a mix of fear, frustration, and fury had coerced him to expend entirely too much lightning at the first skeleton. He would need a few moments to recover this, and the now-lone skeleton from the tandem came at him, swinging angry hands like a thin rake.

PANG!

The sword was stopped dead in its tracks as the elder statesman failed to destroy the oncoming appendage. With the complete absence of fear on its side, the empty skulled terror continued flailing at him.

PANG! PANGPANGPANG!!

He was able to block most of the attacks, a bony string of fingers scratching mercilessly at his hand on one of the deflections. Blood instantly poured down his right forearm in twisting streams of oil as he struggled to keep up with the fast and indefatigable opponent. With wild and wide eyes, he turned to the boy once more.

“Kill the spine! Any time now![/i]

[Duffy]

Duffy strode to the skeleton with a deranged expression. He could not be sure if it was due to the thrill of battle or the crackle of static and the ringing in his ears. With the image of Ruby pirouetting between raking claws and thin air in the corner of his eye, the bard raised Nail’s point to neck height and deftly pierced the creature between the fourth and fifth vertebrate.

On the far side of the battle, Ruby gained some ground. Lucrezia sliced elegantly through the skeleton’s wrist, swooped around it’s hit, then thrusted clean through where it’s windpipe would have been. Whereas Duffy’s heavy blade dislodged from the spine and left him stuck and tangled up with his opponent, the spellsinger’s sword cheered triumphant as the skull rolled to one side and thudded to the dirt. When she caught sight of Duffy’s predicament, she burst into song.

“We wanted to remember everything we’d forgotten. We wanted to believe were not fading. In the temple, we were unfolding in the crooked shadow of the morning. In the half-light, we saw a window to the door.” Her hair danced with umbra fire and as she advanced towards her brother, she stomped a heel onto the skull to stop it’s incessant and futile biting at thin air.

“You’re not supposed to tickle it,” the mage quipped.

Duffy snarled, pulled his sword free, and grabbed hold of the skeleton by the ribs. He yanked it back. The song filled him energy and focus, and sent away the last clinging doubts of his other self. At last, there stood a black haired, stoic man with no intention of dying on the road to nowhere. A heavy boot kicked into the skeleton’s hip and pushed it back. It was a short-lived victory as it turned, bloodied fingers splayed, and lunged. As he parried each raking hand he picked up the bridge of the song.

“We were just lonely kids, living in a faded town. We were just lonely kids, just…”

Tooth clashed against the right wrist and severed it. The still twitching hand tried to crawl away, the magic holding it together strong enough to force every bone in its body to maim and kill. Duffy ducked, swelling with pride as Ruby’s spell song came to power. They sang the second verse in harmony, baritone and an angel’s voice forming a swirl of heat and melody around the bard. He tossed Tooth to one side and it snicker-snacked away through a crack in the void between this world and the Tap. He reached into the aether, and produced a black handled katana with an elven curve and too many tales to tell.

“We were living in the moment, and the past became the present, the memory unfurling a truth returning. In my mind I hear you laughing, through the pines I hear you calling, the little bird was saying that I hear you remember everything!”.

The blade began to hum, and then vibrate fiercely. When Duffy cut it full force through the skeleton’s midriff the spine gave little resistance. It shattered open the ribcage and sent the skeleton unfurling in a cloud of fossilised marrow and regret. His brow ran slick with oily sweat and his lungs struggled to take in air between pained breaths.

“Get down!” Ruby roared. Duffy didn’t want to stay upright long enough to ask why.

With a flick of the wrist and a tortuously wicked smile, Ruby let lose the formation of her spell song. Three spheres of energy bounced up, then down, then smashed into the road. They bounced on, leaving craters in their wake as they closed in on the skeleton to the gentlemen’s rear. The concussive force sent the skull shooting off into the woods and bits of its limbs raining down across the road and the pearl waters of the swamp. The woods became a little less populated, save for one remaining creature finally cresting the verge and making headway towards the only smell it remembered from its former life. Blood.