Round 2 Team 7

[Silence Sei]

The team is Lloyd and Philomel. Round starts at Midnight tonight, CST, and lasts for two weeks. Good luck!

[Philomel]

Being there in the cold and drizzling rain of a forest is not in the slightest enthralling. Waking up is even worse.

Philomel blinked open her eyes as the first cold drops began to splatter over her skin. Single drops of sudden frigid splash slid down her brazen cheeks, and caused her to gasp in shock. Sitting straight up, she gazed around her, staring at her surroundings with an emotion close to horror.

“Bloody rain!” she spluttered breathily, quickly taking in the view. She saw tall trunks, broken branches, the corners of crimson leaves. They were sparse, more sparse than what she remembered, and beyond one lower twig she spied the angular form of a canvas tent.

You are awake!

Her beloved burst in on the scene, all russet orange and bright eyes, his brush tail wagging like a dog’s. Launching himself from the ground he moved onto her lap and without ceremony or warning placed forepaws on her breast. His long pink tongue began to eagerly lap her face with the slobbers of a mastiff.

“Get off,” she tried to push at his small body, but her muscles were not quite responding to her commands yet. The biting cold air still nipped at her arms, and rain still fell, but it was not enough to bother her more than the fox desiring her attention. He fully took advantage of the fact she had only just gained consciousness, and licked over her lips.

“Gaahhhh!” she yelped.

This time with her shove he slipped off her lap.

However, Veridian still wriggled with sheer delight around her as unsteadily the faun gained to her hooves. It was her sword that came to her aid, for she found it lying right beside her and used it something as a crutch.

How did we get here? she asked the earth-spirit, her familiar, into his mind as he danced. From the sight of the canvas tent it was obvious they were at the edge of the main camp where all the adventurers met. All those who, for their own reasons, desired to help attempt to defeat the Red Witch, Pode. Weren’t we with the soul-eater plant?

Yes, yes, the enthuiastic fox said, But when the others of our group, Ettermire and the girl and the dark elf, came back and Maverik saw you weren’t with them, she amounted a rescue party of some of the crew and they came and got us as I was waking up. We brought you back here and now you are awake and yes, yes!

Uneasily Philomel looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, why the happiness?” she asked, this time with her voice.

Because I just saw someone! Veridian exclaimed, Someone you will love me for. And he only just went into the forest. I thought - well I suspected, then I asked a warrior and he said I was right and then I was like - WOW and knew you would want to know. And now you are just awake we can go back into the forest and follow him and you can -

“Woh, woh, calm your goodwill, Veridian.” Philomel had a hand rubbing her ear. The other was still holding onto her white bladed sword that she leant on. Veridian stopped speaking, but did not calm his excitement. He was still as merry, still as ecstatic, still as jubilant. Quite literally, he bounced.

The faun breathed in and out slowly, gaining the needed oxygen to get her body back to working order once more. Slow and steady she filled herself with lungfuls of the freezing air that awoke her fully, just as the rain came to a stop. Popping her neck from side to side she stretched, then wriggled, mainly to get blood pumping in the areas that pins and needles reigned.

Veridian waited, patiently, until she gave him a nod. Then he gakked. And he jeered.

An Orlouge! I found an Orlouge! the earth-spirit revealed, Now we can finally question one of them on their own!



okay, Ioder, I ended up going first as it was a couple of hours to go and didn't know if you'd make the deadline. But your one now fits in after this neatly, and I can post the second half of my first one as seen in our doc.

[Lloyd]

Night had descended on the tent city once more, and with the darkness came inevitability. The same feeling had appeared before in these lands throughout the ages. The calm before the storm, the bitter chill before the snows of Salvar take hold. A man stood at the edge of the ocean of tents scattering the hillside.The young Orlouge had just wished his father well with all of his endeavors and had taken his first steps towards his portion of their plan.

“Find the bloody witch.” Lloyd found himself muttering as he stepped forth, venturing into the cured red wood for the first time. With him walked the stoic Hector, whom he had to find once again due to the previous night’s mishaps.

The pair, master and puppet, began their patrol of the Red Forest. Hector took the front, pushing aside the stray foliage for Lloyd like the well behaved servant he was. The crimson colored leaves covered the floor of the wood. With each careful step they seemed to part for the Mystic as if out of respect -Or perhaps out of spite, a ploy to lure him further. He had heard stories of these woods from his sister; Amy had always warned him that the magic of the crimson witch Pode was strong. Even compared to the ancient and refined schools of the Mystic’s Shadow magic, hers were supreme.

Hector drew his blade and slashed at a few hanging vines as they began to twist and move, threatening to lash out and injure the pair. The vampire tendrils of the forest were definitely deadly. But for those who had been briefed back at camp were all informed on the basics of this rotten place. “Oh, but fret not my puppet,” Lloyd said as he placed a hand on Hector’s shoulder. His glossy pale eyes showed no emotion as he continued on leading his master.

Hector let out a worried grunt as the two came upon a small opening in the brush. A hidden grove of sorts tucked away, surrounded by dense brush and crimson fear. Lloyd stood back, taking up a hidden position behind a large tree, his cat like eyes piercing through the red leaves. With his yellow glare darting back and forth Hector gripped his second blade unsheathing it.

“Well go on ya fool.” Lloyd said softly, poking his minion’s leg with the end of his covered shovel. Almost as if his pawn still wanted to fight against his control, Hector faltered for a moment before he took his first step out into the clearing. With both blades at the ready the large black haired soldier wandered out farther.

A body… the young Mystic though as he spotted the lavender hair of a fallen warrior. He commanded his puppet to approach the body quietly and slowly. This, like everything else in this cursed place, could be the work of Pode. One is never far from death in a place such as this.

[Philomel]

An earlier plan had been to never ever come back to this forest. And possibly pay to have any association with it permanently burned from her mind.

After all, it had, for the third time, sent both faun and fox into an unconscious state - far too big a risk for simply wanting a slice of adventure. Few times had they come here, and each one of those times terrible things had occurred. Most especially the most recent, when the earth spirit Argarron, in the form of a great brown bear had gotten injured and Philomel had had to leave him suffering, to go save herself …

Previously, upon awakening, Philomel would have said, “let us go straight home,” but when Veridian had revealed the young man’s familial identity, it had changed things. The Orlouges were powerful, the Orlouges were great. And the Orlouges were the main thing between her and entire dominance of her home city Radasanth, to such an extent where they seemed to be in the way every corner she turned.

Not to mention, they practically were the Ixian Knights, the Gilded Lily’s main competitor.

So it was an opportunity not to be missed. Philomel entered the Red Forest once fully recovered, ignoring the moans of Maverik her guard and with only Veridian in tow. She tracked using a sense of the earth where the Orlouge had gone and followed him and his giant zombie companion past the trees, quite silent. Using the soil and dirt it was quite easy to find where he had gone, or at the very least follow. Indeed, it took her time to properly find him, rather than just follow his tracks, but when she did she liked what she saw in those patient eyes, and the young features, and knew this was perhaps one she could manipulate.

So she waited until he found the body of the poor young lavender-haired misadventurer.

Carefully picking her way around the edge of the clearing, the faun and Matriarch of the Gilded Lily, came to a point where she could see Lloyd and Hector come into the clearing. In her hand she held her white sword of death and revenge, and in her left she clenched empty air. By her feet Veridian waited, tail swishing as the only sign of excitement left. For he was containing it. Philomel could positively feel the thrum of his deep-rooted joy through their mental connection.

For a while the young man just seemed to stare at the body. Then he sent his companion forwards. The animated corpse grunted, then shuffled forwards, much to Philomel’s amusement and intrigue. He held in his hands a mighty greatsword, likely able to fell any dark and belligerent foe - something the faun sure she could find useful.

She flicked the end of her plait over her shoulder. For a moment she hestitated - then began to advance.

Stepping out from the cover of the trees, Philomel made herself seen. Her attention was all drawn, of course, to the young man now uncertainly looking at the dead body that lay on the clearing floor. With a slight cough, she called for Lloyd Orlouge’s attention with a smirk on her lips, preparing, finally, to have the conversation she had always wanted.

[Lloyd]

Glistening moonlight danced down through the thick crimson canopy, gracing the open clearing with its refined magnificence. As if the heavens above were trying to break through Pode’s wicked hold on this forest. The fallen woman’s short lavender hair shined gray as the moonlight kissed her lifeless body. Through Hector’s faded eyes Lloyd felt an overwhelming wave of emotion.

It couldn't be... the young Orlouge found himself trying not to believe his eyes. The figure laying without breath on the cold forest floor felt so familiar to the boy. The hairs of his neck stood at attention as he froze in anticipation. He held firm to the oak shaft of his shovel, fearing to remove his fingernails from their indentions in its’ frame. Lloyd’s subservient thrall stepped ever closer as a thousand symphonies sounded in back of the young Orlouge’s mind. Sweat started to bead and fall from his brow as he bit the flesh of his lip.

The boy was completely enthralled with his discovery until from the corner of his eye he saw a blur of movement; a visage of danger. Hector immediately gripped his blade tight and turned to the figure emerging from the treeline. He readied himself for combat, to protect his master with his undead life. From the brush Lloyd examined the figure, a faun. Of all the horrible, disgusting, vicious creatures to appear before him in a place such as this it was strange that a faun would show herself. Fitting to find this woman in the thick of the forest.

With a sheepish welp she signaled to Lloyd whom she must have noticed earlier lurching in the shadows. Annoyed that when he tried to be stealthy even a forest dweller like this could find him he grunted and stood up revealing himself completely. This situation was delicate, a faun in a place like this could just as easily be an agent of Pode, like the rest of this wicked place. He reached up to the cloth cover over the tip of his shovel, removing it slowly and wrapping it instead around his arm.

“I guess there is no reason to hide anymore.” Lloyd called out to Philomel standing just half a field's length away. “Hector, would you mind scrubbing out this annoyance for me?” the young Orlouge hissed licking his lips. Hector didn’t falter even for a moment as he reared back his greatsword and started at the satyr faun. A look of disgust washed over her lush face as she readied herself for their clash.

“I have not come here to fight… But if you truly want to insist I am more than ready to oblige.” Though she had been targeted her attention still fell on the mystic. Lloyd’s thrall crossed the clearing in a matter of second before stooping, frozen in place only a sword length away before taking a secure step back. The faun seemed less than concerned with Hector as she still gave almost her undivided attention to the mystic.

“How interesting…” He said as his thrall continued to step back from Philomel. “Not here for a fight. Strange to think that there could even be a sense of calm in a place like this.” Lloyd said as he emerged from the brush into the clearing. “Why bother me then you forest dweller?”

[Philomel]

As the corpse lowered his giant blade with a dissatisfied grunt, Philomel matched him and lowered hers. She raised her chin slightly and tilted her head to the side, to seem as if she was looking down at Lloyd. This seemed not to bother him, however, for she was taller than him anyway and the quirky movement only made her look like an animal suffering from curiosity.

Sheathing her sword back into its place on her back, Philomel smiled at the young man, then cupped her hands in front of her.

“I am not a native of this place,” she said, gently. Or as gently as she could muster. “I am in fact, one of the adventurers who came from the camp, sent here to help kill Pode. Just like you, boy.”

The Orlouge, now fully visable, was dressed in full leather armour, covering torso, shoulders, arms and legs, and had a gorgeous black cloak adorning over the top. On one of his hands was a metal gauntlet, one which by its craftsmanship Philomel could tell was Aleraran-inspired, and thus very likely to have some hidden trick to it. He seemed just as cautious, if not intrigued, as she was, despite his orders to his zombie friend to try to attack her. This interest was something Philomel liked, and knew she could use to her advantages, and thus she continued in her reply to him, taking a step further forwards into the clearing.

“I … saw you in the camp. Or rather, my friend did.” She pronounced the word, ‘my’ to make it obvious that she was not alone either. “Indeed, it was he who recognised you, and your race, and first insighted my interest in you. Merely we followed you here in order to introduce ourselves.”

Lloyd narrowed his eyes, “What friend of yours?” he demanded.

The faun’s smile grew. Her short tail twitched with excitement as she incited a thimbleful of anger in the Orlouge - something she was eager to see working.

Deliberately, she did not reply to his question.

“My name is Philomel Serkena van der Aart, Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and lady of Radasanth.” She kept back her identity with the Crimson Hand, for she knew that it might irritate the boy to have a direct enemy before him. The Gilded Lily, at least, was known in Radasanth mostly for its good works in brothels, its fairness of judgement and a slight ability to provide information. So associating herself was that was safe. The Crimson Hand was not. “And which Orlouge are you? I know you are not the perfect knight, nor any of his daughters. Unless you are dressed up.”

Anger flashed behind the young mystic’s eyes. Philomel considered for a moment mocking him more, but then shrugged, and waved Veridian forwards.

“Here, this is Veridian Ryuusan,” she gestured as the fox-form earth spirit slowly meandered out from the foliage. “Earth Spirit by nature and magical in wonder. We are here to help you in whatever you are doing. Now I have introduced us, who are you?”

[Lloyd]

“Oh, how rude I’m being.” lloyd said in a soft tone as he covered his mouth with a limp hand. “No… No I am not the perfect knight or any of his children. I am Lloyd Ransom Orlouge, son of Ciato.” Lloyd finally had fully emerged from the brush into the clearing. Hector had assumed a position just behind him as they walked to meet the faun and her spirit companion. “Its nice to see another friendly face in the brush.” He said extending his hand in friendship. He was sure to offer his unarmed hand to show that he truly meant no harm.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Philomel graced Lloyd with a firm handshake accompanied by a sweet smile.

“But I’m no fool ya know. You can be a friendly as you like but that won’t change anything.” Lloyd tightened his grip of the young faun’s hand just enough to let her know he meant business. “My father has informed me well about you my lovely little faun. I know who you are, what you've done and what you're capable of doing.” The smile on the lovely faun’s face had turned sour at the sound of Lloyd’s words. “And if you followed me out here I know you have a reason behind it.”

Philomel smirked once more and withdrew her hand from the mystic’s. A quite gust of wind caught her hair as it blew through the clearing. “Clever boy…”

“But please don’t take any of this the wrong way, I’m delighted I run into you out here like this. We have at least some common ground as slayers of men.” The two were like kindred spirits forged in the warm blood of others.

“ Well it seems you are as delighted as I am. And excited as Veridian.” The excitement of the little fox seemed to be overflowing as he let out a tough yelp. From the shaded thick of the trees around them the sounds of the corrupt forest returned to plague their minds. “We need to move, it is no longer safe here.” Philomel said as she reached once more for the hilt of her sword. Hector turned to face the oncoming dark presence.

“Safe…” Lloyd began to chuckle lightly. “No where in the forest is safe anymore.” he said under his breath. Gracefully he directed his newest acquaintance past the clearing in the direction he had been heading earlier. Towards the center of the Red Forest, towards the giant tree.

Philomel wasted no time as she lead the pair off into the foliage. Hector sheathed his blade as they passed the dead body of the fallen woman. With a soft grunt he scooped her up and let her hang like a ragdoll from his shoulder. Loyd would use her later, he never let a specimen go bad.

“So, what is Ciato’s spawn doing in a place as dark as this?”

“You know, helping out the family and trying to complete my collection.” He said as they stopped just short of re-entering the thick.

[Philomel]

“Eyes on the prize.”

That was what her mother had always said. “Keep your eyes on the prize, Philomel, and then you will become a goddess.”

Or something like a goddess in power and reputation, that was what Lacey had meant. The faun whore of Radasanth listened to her curious companion's reasonings for being in the wood, but excitement overtook her and so she let a small wriggle of delight through her system.

An Orlouge. And not just any ordinary one at that, but one of the black sheep, the anti-heroes, bastard of Ciato himself, whom Philomel had heard much about. By sight of his large waddling ally Philomel figured that his mystic powers lay in necromancy, dark things and possibly demonic realms. This suited her well - for what other type of creature would she got on with. After all, one of her closest ‘friends’ was the horror Aurelianus Drak’Shal and it was never a good omen when one saw him.

Hand still resting on the hilt of her white sword she turned to him mid-stride and offered a question. “So may I ask … what things has your father told you of me?”

The boy went quiet for some time. It reminded Philomel somewhat of Argarron, who had trampled these grounds with giant calm paws, huffing every few paces. The great brown bear had had the most gentle-looking of eyes, that hid behind them an even more gentler soul. Upon first meeting him Philomel had known he was a kind-hearted bastard, one she was going to get on with exceedingly well, rather the opposite effect to what she had first gained from Lloyd. But if his silence wasn’t enough like the bear-form earth spirit, then his giant of a companion was, with that mighty sword the single thing stopping from one charging in for a hug.

“I know of your dealings with the Crimson Hand,” Lloyd said after a while, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I know of your reputation in Radasanth and on the seas. I have never really met a faun but you seem to be the most famous.”

They were heading down a rough form of path, perhaps that made by a troupe of monsterfied deer. Though Philomel would love to claim to recognise it, she did not, but she knew the best way certainly was forwards and onwards. Whether to keep themselves moving, and thus give themselves more chance of keeping alive, or to actually be filled with the desire for adventure and slaughter, to be the first ones to find the Red Witch and slay her - the reason did not matter. All Philomel currently was bothered about was Lloyd and his personality. He was an Orlouge - but different, a knight - but not, an angel - but fallen and this suited her perfectly.
“I thank you for that,” she laughed a little, “I do try. I must say I have head only of you, but in passing. Your father seems to be more famous, or infamous, depending on what rumours you listen to. Your magic … your mystic protection you call it … of what form does it take?”

Philomel, came a sudden interruption, Are we not heading too far east?

She sighed, agitated, Darling, not now!

But east is where you-

She rolled her eyes, kept her focus on Lloyd. Veridian indeed was warning her of some danger, but then there was nothing that was not dangerous in the Red Forest.

The young man looked at her speculatively for some time, but then just blinked and replied simply, “Shadow magic. I create thralls.

“Yes I see that,” Philomel said, barely looking back at Hector. “But what else can-”

Philomel!

Veridian, its fine. I am keeping an eye out. Maybe you should too instead of complaining all the time. Don’t you see this is perhaps the only opportunity we might get to ever talk to a mystic?!

The fox in the back of her mind hissed, but then he faded away. Philomel felt him severe his communicative link to her, leaving only the usual numbing feeling of a connected conscious. Rolling her eyes she ignored this little tiff, and kept speaking to the Orlouge.

[Lloyd]

“How very inquisitive of you, why are you concerned with my business?” Lloyd answered the prideful faun with a sinful slash of his forked tongue. He was uneasy disclosing such information to those not part of his circle. If his sinful father would even know that he in anyway had jeopardized the sanctity of his family Lloyd would receive the full extent of his fury.

“Tis just the first time I had a chance to have a chat with a mystic.” Philomel responded with a sultry sting to her voice.

“This is hardly the time or place small talk.” Lloyd said as her pushed aside a hanging branch from his path. “I mean no disrespect my lady, but there are bigger things to worry about.” the mystic went on with a finger raised. Lloyd, though focused on the situation at hand, couldn't help but find himself still thinking back to the young lady he found dead in the open clearing. She bared an eerie familiarity that made the bastard Orlouge’s insides churn. From the color of her hair to her lightly tanned skin she made Lloyd think back to his faded memories of his mother.

Astrodeia, even just the sound of her name made the cold surgeon to feel warm. A wonderful and delightful demon of the night she was. Lloyd could still see faint pictures of her skulking the rooftops of Radasanth. He always held both his mother and father in the highest regard. Even after being separated by the void Lloyd still felt a strong connection to his mother. She to this day is the only corpse Lloyd has ever fought his urges to exhume.

“Apologies, I agree we should go on and make it to the center of this place. They said back at camp that the problem was the thickest surrounding the mother tree.” Philomel’s sudden answer suddenly returned the mystic back to his foggy surroundings.

With a soulful sigh Lloyd waved to his thrall to set the body he was carrying down. Hector obliged and carefully rested the young lady’s lifeless body against one of the dying trees. Her loose head rolled once over before Lloyd could catch it. With his forefinger and thumb he held her head up against the bark of the tree as he began to examine the remains. Though clearly this girl shared some distinct traits with his mother, this poor soul was not her.

It could have been…

Lloyd crouched in front of the lifeless body and started to search his satchel for his tools. “I’ll be ready in a moment. Can't let this opportunity go to waste.” he said as he removed both a set of scalpels and an empty glass jar. Philomel seemed to take an interest as she walked closer to observe the Orlouge as he began to work. Harvesting organs was a delicate task after all and one not practiced often. With his soft hand he moved the girl’s shirt from her chest exposing just enough to get to the heart. Slowly and precisely he made his first incision.

[Philomel]

It was only really then that she realised he had gone.

The body ... The boy suddenly did not matter. It was all ...

Get to the centre my ass. Veridian was gone. Her beloved ... Was not anywhere to be seen. Not in sight, not in sound ...

Her breath caught in her chest at the notion of him disappearing. Frantically she searched in her mind, eyes widening. It was like a worst nightmare, but one that she had been the cause of when she had told him to go away. Guilt, fear, horror - all these things washed through her as she just ... Realised.

Oh gods. Oh Drys ...

"viridian!" She screamed out loud, "Veridian, Veridian!"

But there was no answer. There was only the Orlouge boy and his lump of a slave. In her mind there was just a weak connection of a subtle life, so at least he was alive ... But he was gone...

She tried calling his name again, this time in her mind.

Nothing. So she tried again, only louder.

Drys' sake ... VERIDIAN!!!

And this time she got a reply. It was far more horrific than she could have dreamed. It was a cry of pain, or torture, of insanity. And her denial of love's existence was washed away in an instance by the confounding thought of hearing that sound. Of he. Of him in pain. In agony.

Never never again.

She had been his death already once before.

So with a yell of fury and with no explanation she threw herself away from Lloyd and charged straight into the trees where Veridians cry came from. Lloydshouted after her, but the faun's only concern was her beloved. He needed her. He was in pain. And she would save him.

Loves blinds even the strong of heart.

[Lloyd]

Just as the cold steel of Lloyd’s scalpel kissed the yet colder skin of the woman’s breast Philomel began to panic. She began screaming the name of her fox friend from earlier. Lloyd did not understand their connection, but it was clear that they shared some kind of deep relationship. She was loud, loud enough to scare poor old Hector into taking a second step back from the faun. Though her wailing didn’t stop the young Orlouge; he, like his sinister sister, relished a chance for mutilation.

He merely squinted and proceeded to drag his sharp utensil across the length his her breast. A perfect cut. Speckles of blood began to bead up out of the hairline slit in her flesh. With his fore finger and thumb Lloyd separated her lightly tanned skin. Her muscle pulled apart with such ease exposing her bloody breast plate.

The mystic was so incredibly focused with his impromptu surgery that what was happening around him seemed to become blurred and distorted. When the dark surgeon is in such a state of concentration it is almost impossible for him to respond to outside stimuli. He completely relies his faithful slaves for protection until he has finished whatever or whoever he was working on.

Hector watched with his glazed-over eyes the faun as she continued to panic over her missing companion. Though he couldn’t quite understand whatever she was crying out he could see the utter horror on her face. He grunted and resumed a protective stance over his master. Then, like the forest creature she was she leapt past both Hector and the boy, once more disappearing into the thick.

Easy come, easy go.

Lloyd examined the cold insides of the young woman. He noted that underneath her epidermis and dermis there was a distinct thicker layer of flesh. How strange, he thought remembering back to the last time he saw this. This thick layer of skin was only found in the bodies of fallen demons. Not unlike his mother. He looked up at her face once again to reassure himself that he truly didn’t know this girl.

Still she did not bear the same face as Astrodeia.

Lloyd returned his surgical glare once more to her open chest. He licked his lips before plunging his long pointed fingernails into the opening. It didn’t take too much force to break the breast plate- and past that point he was near his goal. With only his hand to guide him Lloyd explored her insides until he felt it. Her non-beating heart was literally in the palm of his hand. He felt it for
a moment, with his thumb he felt how three distinct cords were connected it to the rest of her body. With a slight fist he pumped it once or twice manually.

Then the Sinister Surgeon froze solid once more. Fear washed over him as he heard the most terrifying voice.

“Son…”

[Philomel]

Your fault he has gone, the voice in her head snided. Its your fault.

“Shut up!” she screamed at herself as she raced through the foliage, “Shut up, its not … not like that!”

Uh huh, that’s just what you want to hear. I am your true voice, dearie, the voice of reason.

Slamming down with anger with the blade of her sword, and yelling in synchonisation, she cleaved a heavy branch that stood in her path. With a short leap she cleared its effects as it fell to the earth, thenflanded on the other side, clear. From there she kept running, speeding like an arrow to a target, but able to dodge the plants in her way. Magically imbibed.

His cry of pain, echoing and piercing, poisoned her head again and she found herself wincing. So harsh was the agony that she stumbled in her step. Her right hoof caved beneath her as his scream gave way to a bought of migraine and unsteadily she swayed, before crashing sideways. A great red oak had its way with her horned head, and knocked her firmly on the crown. She grumbled, faltered and tears slipped like the cold dribbling rain that had first ever begun this terrible misadventure.

So terrible.

Again he cried, and once again she tried to get up to run but - but her leg caved in beneath her. Slipping in the mud that was hardly there, slapping into the pool of water created by her own tears. His voice rose, moaned, and then screamed again, this time truly crippling her with real mental agony.

She collapsed by the side of the tree, sobbing, as miserable as a child in the gutter. Emotions filled her, for open to forces as she was. Emotions from before and after, or times now and earlier, here and there. Sorrow from the inability to help Veridian, of not getting as he screamed. Fear as suddenly she was shunned into memories of her cruel father who beat her again and again. Hatred as she remembered wanting to slaughter every last rapist who harmed her girls. Horror as she remembered abandoning Argarron here, in this forest. The great brown bear of the north, the glorious beast who claimed descent from Drys herself, even though she had no children.

She was lost. She was a child again. If anyone saw her here - Maverik, her mother Lacey, her sailors - they would not see the same strong faun they knew before. The terror of so many years caught Philomel in their icy grasp, and squeezed, trapping her there before she could go and rescue Veridian. She closed her eyes tight shut as the tears dripped, not wanting to see anything. Sliding down the trunk of the tree she curled into a foetal position as the noise reigned around her mind.

As he screamed, and screamed, and screamed …

“NNNOOOOOO ....!”

“You abandoned me …”

The voice from outside.

A voice from outside. Outside her thoughts, outside her mind. Outside in that wide world where the trees were red and society was cruel.

The faun gasped, pulled a shaky breath through her lungs. And she tightened her grip on her sword, noticing now that, strangely, the screaming voice of Veridian had died away.

“You abandonded me.”

She flashed open her eyes as one word formed on her lips.

“Veridian?”

“Pah, you wish, bitch.”

Brown, not russet. Black eyes, not gold. Long hairy nose, rather than a short muzzle, rounded ears rather than pointed and altogether much, much larger.

A roar, right in her face, and Philomel gasped at the face of the earth spirit she had left for dead.

Argarron … The name caught in her throat.

Quickly, she scuttled back but he was far too fast. He followed her. Leaping, the great bear who should have been dead but was now alive, came towards her, huge paws and claws out. There, on the ground, the faun was all but defenceless, save for the white blade still in her hand, and so she raised it he came near.


Yyeeessss .... just in time by like 20 minutes :3

[Lloyd]

Fear… a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain. Whether the threat is real or imagined fear it is instinctive. The young mystic sat still, unable to even breathe, his hand still burrowed inside the woman’s chest caressing her heart.

“Lloyd… what are you doing to your mother!?” The body began to move, yet Lloyd could not. Paralyzed by fear, afraid to acknowledge what was happening. Then he felt the most crippling of things. Her heart began to beat…

Quickly Hector gripped the Orlouge and tore him away from the young lady as she began to fidget and move. As his hand exited her chest cavity a long stream of blood began to spew, speckling his face with red liquid. Still he refrained from looking at the woman. How could he have been so blind? The signs had been all around him from the very moment he laid eyes on this corpse.

“I asked you a question boy!” the corpse started to say as it lifted itself to its feet.

Hector held fast to his master hiding him behind his bulky frame. Lloyd shivered as he mustered up the courage to peer past his slave. His catlike eyes gazed intently over Hector’s should at the woman. Unlike before there was something different about her. Her face had changed, became more familiar. Lloyd quickly pushed himself off of Hector and stood by his side as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. The giant of a slave drew his great sword and held it firm in front of him.

“You’re not real, it is completely illogical,” Lloyd said directed to the corpse that now resembled ever so his faint memories of Astrodeia. He, like normal, was more or less talking to himself, trying to make sense of what was happening. Pode’s magic was great and being a member of the shadow Mystic race Lloyd had strong ties with these dark arts. From the moment he laid eyes on her he should have known. “You’re just one of that Bloody Witch’s illusions,” he said as Astrodeia started to shuffle forward arms extended.

“How could you think that, don’t you remember what your own mother looks like?” she said walking over to her son. Blood pouring from her open chest, she appeared like a visage of the past. With each step she took Lloyd matched it with one in the opposite direction. Out of her mouth he could see razor-sharp fangs and from her fingers talon-like nails.

“How did you get here mother?” Lloyd said making sure to not truly believe anything that she might say.

“Does that matter? We are together again,” she answered. Hector made sure to keep her at the end of his great sword.

“I know that this is only a spell of sorts. You’re not real, you can’t be real. I buried you. We all buried you,” he said to Astrodeia. Anger seemed to cover her face the longer Lloyd denied her embrace.

Then with a loud shriek Astrodeia, or at least the corpse posing as Astrodeia, slashed at Hector with her large sharp nails. Hector raised the base of his large sword to catch her swipes.

“C’mon Lloyd. Don’t you want a hug!?!” he screamed before attacking her beloved son.

[Philomel]

The people died.

She died. They all died.

Or at least, it seemed thus.

War reigned around her as the great bear bounded towards her, claws extended. She let out the loudest of screeches before duck and rolling. Her blade caught Argarrons underbelly, she was so sure, but he seemed unaffected by it. Instead the beast just came at her again.

Tucking her hooves beneath her the faun swallowed, fearing her own life now other than that of her heart's beloved, wherever he might be. With adrenaline as her strength she tried to turn and run, but the bear was faster.

"Get off!" she yelled.

And he answered hauntingly, "Never."

Dark claws scraped down her back, bouncing off her drake scale breastplate and then digging deep into her spine.

With a yelp of pain she threw back what little dust she could find at a moments notice, the audden blow of a magical storm sent raging back at the Monster Who Should Be Dead. This, again, through seemed to not slow him and he just spat before slamming into her back and pinning her to the ground.

"Mine," his noisy, seething teeth scraped by her ear. "Mine now."

She scrabbled at the ground, all but forgetting the power that lay in her magical palm, because she reigned in fear. A lump caught in her throat that would not go, and tears of pain continued to drip as the bear tore into her skin again and again and again ...

She screamed. Like Veridian had screamed before. As high as heaven and so loud that Hell itself could hear her.

"NOOOOOO!"

The bear roared, suddenly, in agony and pain. His hold let go, poisoned as he was in that moment by her piercing cry. It was by no ability, but purely by her horror that she managed the pitch, and it granted her a moment to sieze. Siezed it she did, and as soon as she felt his grip loosen, she scrambled, savagely in the dirt, holding onto her sword for all that it was worth. As he tended to his wounds she ran, as fast as one can go back the way she came, but blindly for the tears stung her eyes.

[Philomel]

I
Admins: this is up to you. Or rather, I guess it is up to you, Sei.

My internet broke from roughly early this morning until about half an hour ago, so entirely convered the time I was going to post in. It cut past the 24 hour mark by about an hour. I entirely understand if I need to be DQ'ed for this one, however I still would like to continue the thread with Ioder.

Many apologies Ioder. Of course I will still help in what capacity I can.

[Lloyd]

In horror the young Orlouge stayed behind his faithful thrall who stood between Lloyd and what seemed to be his mother. Astrodeia, or what was at least pretending to be Astrodeia, swayed back in forth with her razor sharp claws ready to strike. The moonlight that had fought so hard to break through the canopy earlier was no more. With it, went all of Lloyd’s hope, all of his fight.

Ciato was a great father and raised Lloyd like he did with all his children. He, from an early age, was taught that family was everything. And that family, more specifically Ciato and his children, were the only thing that mattered in this world.

Hector let out a grunt as he once more caught Astrodeia’s lustful swipe of her claws. Again and again she lunged her arms forth, slashing at Hector. Lloyd stood back watching as his mother continuously lashed out towards his thrall. Agonizingly his head began to ache as he watched his mother try to kill Hector. Her sour expression was one of both anger and sadness.

“You can't hide behind you little toy for long!” she cackled as the force behind on of her strikes knocked Hector back a step. Hector responded with a mighty swing of his blade.

“No, no no no no no…” Lloyd murmured again and again. It was all he could do. He replayed vivid memories of himself placing white flowers atop her grave. It overlooked the oceans to the west, and was nestled under a large hanging tree. He could remember, though long ago, he having to help Ciato as they dug her grave after she passed.

“What’s the matter dearie? Not happy to see your mother?” she hissed at Lloyd.

“You're not real!” he yelled. “You can be real. I buried you!” Lloyd was filled with emotion. Sadness and pain blanketed over him while he was forced to relive the hardest time in his life. The mystic focused on the last moments he can remember of his mother.

Like a sneaky witch Astrodeia started to laugh at the boy who was clearly struggling to handle what was happening. It was all he had to still command Hector to fight for him, though it was mostly instinct it still required some capacity for thought. She knew that the boy was struggling; she played on his sorrows.

“Having a hard time son? Here let me console you!” She hissed once more at Lloyd before finally making her move. Till now the reanimated Astrodeia was merely moving Hector around, positioning the thrall closer and closer to the surrounding tree line. With every slash of her claws Hector was forced back a step or two. With Hector being mindless and his controller distraught by emotion, it seemed to be over before either of them knew what was happening.

In a crimson splash, Lloyd was covered by specks of his thralls essence. Astrodeia had pushed Hector so far that neither Lloyd of the thrall could see the low hanging vines behind him. After blocking just one more of her mighty blows Hector backed directly up into the deadly vampiric vines which, like any predatory creature, struck. In a simple passing of a second the thrall had been run through by several deadly vines and gone once more cold to the world. He dropped his great sword and with it he faded back into oblivion.

“Huh.” Lloyd flashed back into reality as his link to his thrall had been severed; he was all alone. He reached up gingerly and wiped his face with the trim of his cloak. Astrodeia kneeled beneath Hector’s lifeless corpse and grabbed hold of his large sword. Lloyd knew now that it was going to matter who this was here in a moment. Whoever this was, Astrodeia or Pode, was going to kill him. He stood tall and proud for the first time; he flexed his right forearm and out launched two steel claws from his gauntlet.

“You all by yourself now, are you ready to embrace your mommy?” the corpse woman yelled out as she started for the young Orlouge. From behind the reanimated Astrodeia Lloyd could see a shining light moving in the forest.

[Silence Sei]

Philomel has been disqualified and may not continue to post in this thread. This quest can be moved to another area if need be but as per the request of Max Dirks, there will be no posting in the actual AC thread to make judging easier.

[Lloyd]

“C’mon you dirty old witch!” The young Orlouge yelled as he matched Asrtodeia's charge. Lloyd held strong to his heavy spade while also bringing his claws up to parry Astrodeia swinging Hector’s massive sword. Though Lloyd knew what he had to do he still felt uneasy fighting against the reanimated corpse of his mother. She was now coated in a suit of her own blood spewing out of her open chest.

“Watch your tongue!” she said as the two clashed with a loud sting of steel on steel. The mystic caught the end of the big sword between his two claws and twisted his arm fiercely. He redirected the blade downward to the ground and took his shot.

“No matter what you keep telling me I won’t believe it. I can’t believe it!” he yelled before using the spear end of his spade to skewer Asrtrodeia through her open wound.

“Aaahhhh!” her scream was like the sound hundreds of dyeing children. Though it may have seemed that Lloyd had run her through she was still standing. The magic that hosted her in the realm was strong, stronger than even his. She began to move once more even with his spade piercing through her chest.

“What are you?” he asked as he took a step back.

“How come you can’t just accept that I am your mother?”

“Its because I can still remember. I remember the day you died!” he said as he started for her, more specifically to relinquish his spade from
her chest.

“You do not understand all of this!” she said luring him on. She also raised her sword once more and swung it at her child.

“I know enough that this is all the work of Pode. She is hiding somewhere now controlling all her pawns.” he said as he tucked his head her mighty swing. “And you are just one of her pawn. Who just so happens to make me remember my past.” He wasn’t sure if his assumption of the situation was right but he didn’t care. He just wanted to end this as best he could. With a quick upward motion he gripped his spade and tore it out of his mother’s chest. Again a shower of blood rained on Lloyd whom also used this chance to drag his claws along the length of her torso.

“You little fucker!” she yelled before dropping her sword and simply using her quick and talon-like claws to shred the meat of the mystic’s left shoulder. She tore through his shoulder pad into his flesh like it was nothing. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe I’m you poor dead mommy. I’m still going to have fun nibbling on your bones!”

“Shut your bloody mouth!” he yelled back at her. From his calculations who or whatever this woman was, she is not bound to death. If death was natural she defied it. But there was still something he could do. “Eureka!”

[Lloyd]

Lloyd felt a bitter sting in his shoulder. He nervously reached his hand up to and felt his blood as he it started to ooze form his wound. “Ouch…” he cringed at the sight of his azure essence. But there was no time for any of that now. He had one chance to finish this, only this one chance to come out of here alive.

Philomel was nowhere to be found. Not like she would be of very much help right now anyway. This is not a battle of strength or speed, where she seemed to excel in combat. But this was now a battle of clashing magic. Clearly this was the work of Pode, her district magical influence was visible in everything around them. The reanimated Asrodeia was no different. Lloyd sighed realizing this fact only just now after he had lost both the faun and Hector.

Slowly the mystic reached down into his satchel.

“Are you ready?” he yelled with the stern voice of his father. A tone he heard him use a lot when Astrodeia was still alive. She only dropped her jaw and began to salivate uncontrollably while she gurgled nonsense. Her features started to slowly become more monster like with every passing moment. Her petite frame was starting to fill out and her claws began to grow long. “It doesn’t matter c’mon.” Lloyd finished before dropping his spade and charging his mother.

Astrodeia gurgled something indistinguishable as language before matching Lloyd. In a flash the young mystic pulled from his satchel a bottle. He opened it in mid run and through its contents at his mother. It was a solution that aided him in his surgeries by putting the subject asleep. But in this case when the solution splashed one her face she briefly closed her eyes and shrieked.

Lloyd knew he had to fight fire with fire. The only thing he could do was try to override Pode’s magic by using his ancient talent in the craft. Like a masterful surgeon he somehow pulled a scalpel from his satchel and had it ready in hand. He had only one shot at this.

He spat…

Then with all the force he could muster Lloyd released his claws and plunged them into the reanimated Asrodeia’s left palm. She fell to the ground and with her so did Lloyd. His claws pieced through her hand and continued to pin her to the ground. With his other hand he reared back his scalpel and did the same to her other hand.

“Gotcha!” Lloyd said before taking his hand off his scalpel, digging for his last one. Asrodeia tried fighting and thrashing to escape but between her being pinned. His blades stayed firm in her flesh and he sat all his weight on her. The beast was going nowhere. “Are you ready Pode? Can you fucking hear me in there? You have caused enough pain in this world. Me and my family will put you down permanently.” He began talking to the bloody witch through her vessel.

[Lloyd]

Astrodeia continued to struggle under the weight of the mystic. He only smeared some of the blood from his face with his sleeve and spat in her face. This was not his mother. It never was. She was just one of Pode’s evil curses trying to pray on his emotions. The witch was weak now and pulling out all the stops to kill the resistance.

After a moment he revealed his final scalpel from under his cloak and waved it around in her faces. He tied with all her might to through the boy off her but she couldn’t. She tied biting his hand, but she couldn’t. This was going to be the end of this. Lloyd raised his scalpel up and focused on it intently. From the cold steal tendrils of black shadow magic formed and began to wrap around his arm.

“Any last words in there?” he said smirking, knowing that he had the upper hand now. It seemed that even he can be an amazing worrier like
his father and sister. She only spouted nonsense before Lloyd once more entered her chest though his earlier incision. This ancient technique was his shadow surgery, his form of the nerco art. From the very moment his blade entered her body his tendrils started to work. They first started to repair any dead tissue form the most essential organs. The heart was first, followed by the liver and lungs.

He once more entered a state of super focus while he worked…

Her kicking and screeching no longer bothered him. He could no longer feel or hear them. All he could do was focus on the task at hand. It only took moments for his technique to fully revive her organs to their natural working state. Then he went on to the outer organs and her muscles. She had bad lacerations along her arms that his tendrils stitched up nicely.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” he said smiling at his own corny joke. She had stopped moving, all had stopped. It was over…

Like he presumed, Pode’s magic was strong but only affected the dead. But now after having the shadow surgery performed the woman was no longer ‘dead’ in any sense. Her heart began to beat once more and Lloyd who had done this many times before forced his will into her very being though this action. Her face returned to normal, the face nameless visage before dead in the woods.

Lloyd released his claws from her hand and pulled out his scalpel. She softly stood and allowed his newest thrall to stand as well. She had returned once more to a regular human but still kept her elongated claws. Her eyes were the same as Hector’s.

The young mystic felt an immense pressure leave his shoulders as he knew this was over. The war was far from ending but this battle was done. Lloyd had both figured out a loop hole to exploit to negate Pode’s magic and managed to do it without any help.

“I know you can still hear me!” he began to yell once more. “This is the end of your reign. I or any one of use will find you and end your wretched life.” he stood resolute next to Lucy. He was always quick to name his pets. Then he squared her up and brushed off the dust from her shoulders and arms. “This will be a delicious surprise for pops. I need to find him.”


This thread is done. It was definitely hard after Phi left me but Im glad to have something finished.

[Max Dirks]

Both of you need to work on your mechanics. There were countless spelling & grammar errors in this thread. Lloyd, you had less traditional mechanical errors than Philomel, but you did omit some words & ended multiple sentences in propositions. These are very easy to fix with a quick readthrough. Note to Philomel: I did not discount for British spelling. Also, for clarity's sake, I recommend finding a better way to distinguish thoughts & dialogue from prose. Storywise, the thread was average. I suspect your score would have been higher here if your characters would have come back together to conclude the thread, but the rational for linking up in the first place (Philomel wanting to interrogate an Orlouge) was just bland. Persona was your strongest area. Though I didn't feel the sense of urgency & peril you were trying to convey, it is clear you put effort into developing your characters. In hindsight, playing on the outcast aspect of Lloyd's character could have helped here. Since your characters split & dialouge was unimpressive, I was unable to give you a higher character score.

Team 7 Judgment (Lloyd)

Story: 5
Setting: 5
Pacing: 5
Action: 5
Communication: 5
Persona: 5
Mechanics: 4
Technique: 5
Clarity: 5
Wildcard: 6

Total: 50/100

Lloyd receives 734 EXP and 100 GP

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added