View Full Version : A Mundane Day
((SOLO))
-4:34 am-
Chaos. Woozy, dreamy, surrealist chaos.
Soldiers, man, elf, orc, mercenary all fell back, running across the grey cobblestones that made up the streets of the ancient city of Eluriand. Everyone was falling back, back, back, run, running, screaming, fall back, fall back.
The war was won, but he stench of death, and iron, and sweat, and sadness permeated all of Eluriand. The sound of footsteps, of trampling fear, filled the air. The friendless, neverending groan of the undead wasn’t far behind – and these were the leftovers from the Corpse War. The 50-person infantry unit ran past demolished buildings, some stained with the remnants of blood and fire, while others bore heavy scars of necrotic blasts – the work of liches and sorcerers drunk on their allegiance to the great evil Xem’Zund.
Until he died... or something.
But, even after the war, people still ran. People ran, because even though the dead’s leader was no more, there always seemed to be more of them. More, more, more, fall back, fall back.
Bodies upon bodies scorched against Minako Kiehl’s shoddy leather armour. She wasn’t the frailest little thing, but personal space was the least of anybody’s concern in an all-out retreat from the undead still lurking and moaning within Eluriand.
Arms exposed; scrapes and scratches danced around her pale skin as man after man ran past her. Her unruly black hair was decorated with blood and rank undead juice, sticking to her face while sweat dripped down her forehead. She very vaguely heard the lieutenant yelling “fall back, fall back, there’s too many!” But she wasn’t listening; she wasn’t the best at listening, but she had other matters to attend to.
Where is she! “Ayaka! AYAKA!”
Concern began morphing into worry, and worry morphs really quickly into fear, when left unattended. Unfortunately for Minako, leaving things unattended was her expertise. She used to leave her sister unattended all the time – she’d leave Ayaka to go hang out with friends, to go shopping for pretty dress, to not go to training, even though her elven tutors always politely advised her to obey without question (they were always so passive-aggressive).
But this time was not a time to be reliving bad childhood habits. Joining the Eluriand undead cleansing party, under the pretense of visiting their adolescent home, was probably not a good idea.
“Fall back!”
The lieutenant was sounding a little desperate at this point. Seeing as how the wretched undead had clearly not planned succeeding in their surprise ambush (surely the surprise was on both parties at war), Minako thought it best to listen to her superior.
Ayaka’s a tough girl, not as good a fighter as me, but she’s pretty good...
And so, she turned and ran. Bounding for the gates of the city, she followed the steady flow of man and merc. They knew it was dangerous to come back into the city as a large group, but they weren’t prepared for the undead horde closing in on them fast.
But, in the corner of her eye, she saw struggle. A losing fight. She saw four, five... six undead, their skin old and green and grey in and varying stages of decay. She saw a frail woman in leather armour, not even a women yet. They swarmed around their prey, snarling, handfuls of deep black hair clutched in their rotting hands. She met her sister’s eyes, horrified, paralyzed; she looked so scared... so, so scared; watching as the things they came to cleanse the cuty, washed away the last bit of life she clung to.
Blood, blood, blood, screaming, watching, snarling, AYAKA!, fall back, fall back, FALL BACK
-6:13am-
The beginnings of the morning shone meekly through the white curtains of Minako’s bedroom. The sun seemed to be hiding behind the clouds today, too lazy to shine the whole of its face on the rest of the day. It wasn’t gloomy, it just wasn’t the ideal day to wake up to.
Especially after another restless night of nightmares.
But that happened so often, Minako was kind of starting to get used to it; keywords: kind of.
Pulling the covers of her body, she stood up and stretched out her body, like a cat would do after a good nap. Bad dreams made for bad sleeping habits, but no use in going back to bed when you’re already awake. She walked a few paces away to her vanity mirror, pulling on some leather breeches, a white blouse and some general pieces of armour. She slipped on her leather gloves, a gift from her parents midway through her eight years of childhood tutoring; they still looked brand new, their waterproof properties pretty much halted the leather’s aging. The rest of the armour, though borrowed, served her well enough. Plus, it made her look like a legitimate warrior and mercenary, though she’d been raised to think that professions like these were like dipping your feet into a pool of swampy water. So unsavoury. And unhygienic.
Might as well train..., she thought to herself groggily.
This was her daily morning routine: wake up from emotionally scarring nightmares, meander around the house for a bit, hope that none of the housekeepers or her father’s friends were awake, and slip out gently and quietly for a peaceful training session. It was probably her fourth or fifth time sneaking out, into the big, bright morning to get some fresh Scara Brae air. Even if that air smelt like a tsunami had washed over the city; in retrospect, that’s what might as well have happened, thanks to Sijal Kar (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?21566-The-Catacombs-of-Scara-Brae-Dead-Sun-Rising/page8).
Nobody’s noticed her little trips. Yet. Everyone in the house was always so preoccupied with keeping the lady happy. Yes, Minako lost her family to the Corpse War, and yes, she still grieves for them. Badly, too – she never learned how to properly grieve, that was probably something her mother would have taught her, had she had the chance. But the lady needed her space too... and she needed practice. Her water magic skills were starting to get rusty.
Though she’d never admit it to her previous tutors, even if Minako did have the opportunity to, she missed training with the high elves and their mastery of magic. She was a natural talent with the water element, swishing and swashing and smashing water around like it was no big deal; both her and her sister were just gifted at birth. But, a student is nothing without their master, and though Minako wasn’t playing with apprentice levels anymore, she’d liked someone to practice with.
Maybe this time, something come up. A monster, perhaps? Something ferocious that rises up out of the sea, angry and ready to fight?
Careful what you wish for, self, you’re not that good yet.
-7:02am-
Sneaking out of Mezara Manor actually wasn’t hard as most people make out sneaking out of mansions to be. Living under the authoritative rules of Joseph Mezara, one of Minako’s old business partners, was actually quite easy going and peaceful. Besides the new (though unimproved) geographic conditions of the city, and the occasional cataclysmic shift of Althanian tectonic plates, there wasn’t much to worry about. Minako always had four meals a day, some delivered to her room if she failed to show up at the dinner table, and a host of servants and maids to assist her. With basically anything. To be quite honest, this is what she was used to, growing up, so it wasn’t a huge change of pace.
The more notable life changes were, obviously, the company. Since both her mother and father were presumed deceased, victims of the Corpse War and the Siege of Eluriand, and her sister had met her unfortunate doom, family was out of the question. Instead, she had Mr. Mezara, or Uncle Jo as she always called him. Uncle Jo was always around, even during her childhood; he did do important business things with her father throughout the years. He was a jolly old man, rotund, shaped like a child’s ball, but with stubby arms and legs, and a comically large moustache. Though bald as a button, his facial hair was as dark as night. He was never totalitarian, never married, and never forced anything on to Minako. And he always looked like he had just had the most sensational slice of apple pie, smiling warmly, satisfied. She was the closest thing he had to a daughter, and she acted out like so.
Not that she preferred him better than her parents. There are better things in life than being endlessly bitter.
Which is why her trip to the lonely shores north of Scara Brae city didn’t leave her with ill feelings. In fact, the sea breeze and sound of waves filled her up like an empty glass of water, waiting to be poured into and drank from. Especially since being so close to such a raw watery force made the magic in her fingers tingle with enthusiasm.
She walked across the beach confidently, happy that this part of the shore was free of the hustle bustle of the city’s docking district. Scara Brae was always so noisy and smelly. The beaches were a different story – it smelled like sea water and freshness. There was no person in sight for miles, just her and the white, sandy beaches; she was well past the safety net of security, but Minako didn’t mind. With the sea, she felt safe. The waves lapped on the shores, pushing and pulling sands and salt and crabs and small fish, in and out. Splotches of green grass painted the otherwise ivory scenery. Grass seemed to grow anywhere there water. Water was life, how could the plant life argue?
Minako flexed her hands, opening and closing, opening and closing, until she could feel the magic coursing through them. Her blood and body reacted so beautifully to the ocean; even when she absent-mindedly ruffled her shaggy mess of a mane, she noticed salt water droplets already dripping from her fingers. Salt water does wonders for the hair, you know.
Slipping off her borrowed leather boots, Minako felt the warm embrace of the beach sands. Grain after grain tickled her toes pleasantly; it was nice to get out of the house and relax a little bit. Mezara Manor wasn’t bad, but the buildings and the stones were stifling. Sand between the toes, wind acting as smelling salts for the soul, sun smiling gloriously in the sky, there was no better day. So much for bad nightmares setting off what could have been a disaster of a morning.
Facing the waters, the young mage reached up and went into one of the basics stances taught to her as a child – arms raised but relaxed in an offensive position, palms facing forward, feet light but firm. Concentrated, waving both arms smoothly through the air, energy almost crackling between her fingers. With one push of her palms, Minako exhaled, relaxed.
As she hoped, two thin whips of water swirled around each other, coiling like snakes ready to strike. Higher and higher they came, as Minako’s hands danced their magical dance, swishing and swirling around each. They rose from the ocean, happy to oblige with the mage’s request. When they reached about four feet in height, Minako held the rest of the water down, leaving the swirled, jewel-like water whips stranded in mid-air. Water magic was all about change and flow, controlling it needed a reed-like mind: never be too authoritative with it. And it helped that whenever things where picturesque and plaintive, that’s when water magic really looked its best.
Still got it.
-7:25 am-
While Minako practiced her water magic, sloshing around ocean water and making a big, loud fuss, feet tiptoed on the soft sand of the beach. The footprints were small, animal-like, meek and quiet. There was a small group of footprints, three to be exact. They creeped towards Minako, careful not to bother her from her reverie. It would have been an easier kill that way. Because these footprints weren’t shy, like an animal’s, they were hunting.
And Minako didn’t notice them at all.
Until one set of stepped on a jagged stone, hidden under the soft sand. The body attached to these feet yelped in surprise, and the mage flipped around, her ocean water dropping from their mid-air dance.
It wasn’t a secret that after the rise (and fall) of the demigod Sijal Kar, and the upheaval of the catacombs of Scara Brae, hundreds of different species native to the underground tunnels of the land were uprooted. It was common occurrence nowadays for trolls and goblins and mushroom men to appear out of nowhere; these guys were trying to make life work after being thrown into unknown territory. Mostly unwelcome, but common. So unfamiliar creatures walking along the shore of an empty beach near the city? It might as well have been a robbery on the streets of Scara Brae city.
At first look, the sneaks were actually kind of cute, like oversized bipedal raccoons. The three of them had charcoal grey fur, with what looked to be their learned decorated with a streak of red hair on its cuddly little head. They all had tails, black and grey ringed together in a simple, raccon pattern. Standing to about three feet high, dressed in shoddy leather armour suited for children, the kobolds’ eyes widened in surprised. The leader chattered angrily at one of its subordinates, apparently the one that wasn’t looking where it was going. Slimy saliva flew everywhere – the leader was really letting his mini-soldier have it.
It was all very comical, had the three just went on their way and given up on the surprise. But lo, things like that just don’t happen.
The red-streaked kobold then turned to the mage, still standing by the waters, now in a light but offensive position. He chattered at her, sounding like shrill and fast dog barks. Snatching their daggers from sheaths attached to their armour’s belts, the kobolds hissed at Minako, fangs bared and saliva dripping.
-7:26am-
The kobold leader charged first, its small feet tossing up the sands. It let out a chittering war cry, drawing a small, jagged bone dagger from a rusty sheath but its waist. The other two followed suit immediately after, daggers raised and eyes wide. The tails bounced along adorably, but there was nothing adorable about rapid humanoid animals, saliva dripping with disease and weapons sharp as a child’s insult.
When the kobolds drew close enough, Minako whipped her right arm forward, magic and adrenaline coursing through her veins. A water tentacle burst from the ocean banks, slapping away at the kobold leader. It promptly dodged the mystic weapon, but instead the magic hit its subordinate, sending the furry little demon flying a few feet away. The kobold landed on the sands with a thud, but not much worse for wear.
Trying the tactic again, the she-mage slashed left, another tentacle angrily exploding from the waters. Aiming for the other subordinate soldier, she hit the kobold straight to its bushy forehead, knocking the poor creature out. Water might not be as offensive as fire, naturally strong as earth or quick and violent as the wind, but its power should not be underestimated. Minako drew on the deep essence of the sea, where hidden strength and power dwelled – this is the power the mirrored on to the mage’s offensive attacks.
Unfazed by the girl’s attacks, the red-streaked kobold leader hastily bore upon her. As the other kobold fell to the floor in slump, the leader launched itself into the air, dagger dangerously poised to strike at her face. The blade sliced left into the air, narrowly missing her cheeks; the kobold miscalculated its ascent!
“Shit!”
Though she couldn’t prevent the surprisingly solid build of the kobold landing right on the chest, at least Minako’s face was still bloodless and intact. She’d definitely have bruises on her chest the next morning, though. Taking the opening, she punched the beast right in the nose. Hot, sticky blood erupted from its snout, as it chattered angrily; her right hand exploded in pain, didn’t realize that these guys had such hardy faces, she thought.
Saliva dripped on to Minako’s neck, the animal’s hot breath sticking up her personal space; another face to the kobold’s face. Minako pushed off the creature unceremoniously, dumping it in the shallow water as it tried to recover. Blood coloured the sands and the shore, staining the purity and beauty it possessed. Sure, the leader was out of commission for a minute, but there was another kobold to deal with.
But, apparently not. The second kobold Minako attacked had already decided that a retreat was in order. She could see its tiny form a little off in the distance, its tail wagging as it ran. And it ran fast. As she watched it flee, the leader also realized that maybe they bit off a little more than they could chew. It stumbled to its feet comically, chittering and chattering at Minako in its annoying language. And, it eventually took off, following its friend’s footsteps.
-8:39am-
There wasn’t much else to practice on after the kobolds had left the scene. Minako was exhausted from her use of water magic, although she noticed that being within close proximity of a very large body of water really helped out her fatigue.
Guess the high elves were right about me being connected to water, she thought, her boots speed-walking through the cobblestones of Scara Brae city.
Stores and shops, mercantiles and merchants were just beginning to set up their wares, ready for the busy day ahead. To the young mage, the day was already eventful, but she had to remember: Mezara Manor was still in the early stages of waking up. Uncle Jo didn’t like to be disturbed while sleeping, and from what she recalled last night, he slept pretty late. He was in his massive library for hours upon hours; he was still off reading when she was getting ready for bed last night, past midnight.
And so, Minako wasn’t worried about being caught red-handed, stealing away from the house for an hour or so. It certainly didn’t hurt anybody. And, it helped her take out any emotions she had bubbling around inside her. It was ten thousand times better than sitting at home, with maids and helpers afraid that she’ll burst into anxiety attacks or emotional breakdowns anytime.
She walked up to the gates of the manor, ten feet high and made of hard steel, sunlight reflecting off parts of its silver visage. The manor itself was a humble, yet royal scene – made of what seemed to be ivory bricks (or maybe it was painted that way?), reaching two stories high and twice that length. Although it seemed quite majestic for a former business, there was something about the mansion that was almost... modest, much like its tenant.
She swung the gate open quietly, shut it promptly and walked up to the stone steps of the courtyard. A stone pathway divided what looked to be a sea of well-tended, green grass, with assorted flowers growing along the edges of the gate. The pathway cut the sea right in the middle , leading up to the manor’s large wooden doors. Opening up the doors, Minako creeped inside, careful not to slam the doors behind her.
“Good morning, dear.”
She practically jumped at the greeting, in turn, banging the wooden door loudly on its latches. The polite, sweetly accented voice was obviously unmistakeably. Minako flipped around to see her Uncle Jo, diminutively sitting on the benches of the spacious foyer, a newspaper in hand. Beside him were two knight statues that seemed more like bodyguards or escorts. Though he was smiling that jolly, damn smile, those statues really made him look more imposing.
“Errrr... good morning, Uncle.”
He smiled even brighter. He looked like a full moon. “You’re up so early? I’ve never known you as morning missus!”
She smiled wanly. “Early worm gets the bird?”
“I’m not so sure that’s how the saying goes, dear.”
“Really? I heard from somebody that it was... or that it’s supposed to mean the same thing but in a different context,” she blabbered on. “I mean, if the early bird got the worm, wouldn’t that mean that the worm is being punished for getting up early...?”
Uncle Jo sniffled; it was a habit, or maybe he just liked clearing his nose. Grabbing his knees for support, he stood up from his bench, gesturing towards the dining room, off to the left. “You’ve got a point. Now come dear, you must be starving. I’ve got breakfast set up, and I must say, Raverine has cooked up a fine early meal. She told me there’s soup... for breakfast! Marvelous!”
“Okay, Uncle... can I just change into clean clothes?”
“Oh yes, of course, wouldn’t want...,” he walked up to her and wiped off a little glob of fluid from the leather armour, “Kobold saliva to stink up your food!”
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