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Nadia's tale
Posted: 11 Sep 2006 09:31 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Dana/Nadia herself))
A second chance
A Ranger/Barnas production
As she knelt on the damp leaves that covered the forest floor she felt fear.
She knew there would be no mercy rescue by the Sisters, no rush to port in the arms of a friend to see the healers, nothing. This was where Dana would cease to exist.
She felt shame, she had bought shame upon the chief, her father and most importantly, to M'Gok Tukar.
Her head swirled with images, the faces of the betrayers who had delivered her to this point, she had sworn vengeance, now she would never know it.
Mucus flowed freely, unchecked from her nose as she waited for what seemed an eternity for the fatal blow to fall. Red eyes poured tears, and her body heaved and wracked with muffled sobs..
A hush fell over those gathered at this sombre scene, it was coming.
Her executioner stepped forwards, she opened her mouth, tried to utter some small prayer to Gruin in hope he would take pity on her soul.
The gag in her mouth prevented all but herself hearing the words she tried to form.
The sentence was never finished.
"I, Dana ....."
The dreams
They had to be dreams, there could be no other explanation.
For what seemed to be days she had soared the skies, had covered the entire length of Vives, north to south, east to west.
She had swooped low, watched her friends go about their daily lives, watched her former enemies go about theirs too.
She had communed with animals, spoken to the trees.
She had soared higher than any creature, she had plunged to the sea bed.
She could go anywhere she pleased.
But she was waiting. Waiting for something. For her acceptance into the realm of her god Gruin.
She knew she could wait forever. Time was of no importance any longer.
Then the dream had abruptly changed, a voice, female, calling her by her life-name.
She felt herself dragged by some invisible hand.
It pulled her southwards, then west. Over the mountains of the divider chain, towards the volcano, into the volcano.
The voice still called her name.
She felt something. It was hot and hard, her first physical experience since the dream began.
She felt encumbered, sluggish. Something encased her, denied her the freedoms she had enjoyed.
She was aware she was laid upon a tiled surface, and it was hot.
For days she had not experienced hot or cold, wet or dry.
With enormous difficulty she struggled to raise her newly encased self to a standing position.
Standing before her was a woman. She had much beauty and was clad head to toe in red.
Utterly confused, Dana tried to get her bearings, but the place was unknown to her, as was this vision who stood before her.
Then the woman spoke.
"I am Naruth, your saviour and your mistress"
Dana knew the name, and knew she should be scared, but was not.
Lucius had spoken of Naruth to her, and she also knew that Alyssa was a Naruthian, or at least had been at one time.
Dana asked why she was here? How was she here?
Naruth did not answer her questions, merely stated again that she was Dana's mistress, her goddess, that Dana would serve her.
Such was her confusion that Dana did not realise she now wore a new set of clothes, that the hair that swung in her face was no longer flame red, that she spoke common with the fluency of any other human. But it was just a dream, why would she notice?
Then, the woman was gone. Vanished as would a wisp of smoke. Dana was alone in this huge, hot, place.
Or was she?
Sixth sense told her otherwise, and with no small amount of trepidation she turned.
Standing not forty feet from her was the biggest dragon she had ever seen.
Her hand went for her sword, but found nothing. She was unarmed.
She backed away, the huge creature followed her, telling her to cease being scared.It was not a request, it was a direct order.
The dragon spoke again, gave its name. Brimscale.
Dana knew the name. She was looking into the face of her distant ancestor.
Brimscale delivered a short businesslike statement. Dana now served Naruth, she was protector of Naruth's church, she would show obedience to Naruth alone.
Then Brimscale also was gone
The awakening
She woke in her room in port, the dreams had left her exhausted and drained.
Before she struggled into full conciousness her lips formed two words.
"I, Dana ..."
How much had she dreamed?
Her attack in Latonei?
Her captivity?
Her trial?
Her execution?
Her dreams? Can you dream a dream?
Such things were of little consequence to her, she must find Lucius. She had not seen him in such a long time.
She stood to dress, caught sight of herself in the full length mirror that occupied the corner of her room.
She stood there for whole minutes, unable to grasp what she was seeing.
A stranger stared back at her.
The girl in the mirror was naked, slim, athletic and a BRUNETTE.
Her hand rose to her face, the girl in the mirror copied.
She stroked an unfamiliar chin, more round than she remembered.
Touched her nose, her image followed suit.
Shorter, snubbier, prettier.
Her eyes, less ovoid, more rounded.
What was this? Did she still dream?
Having absorbed this new shock she sat on the edge of her bed.
Lucius would explain it, he knew a lot about strange things.
Firstly she must convince Lucius it was indeed herself.
She reached for her clothes ........
They were gone.
In their place was a leather creation in red.
She searched her room for the familiar items she wore daily, of them there was no sign.
The only clothing she had to put on was this new red creation.
She dressed herself slowly in a state of confusion.
Suppose .........
Suppose the dreams were not dreams?
Suppose all those things had really happened.
But ......... flying?
She moved towards the mirror again, now dressed. The unfamiliar girl who faced her wore the exact same article.
She reached out a hand, touched the cool surface of the mirror.
"Who are you?"
A long pause.
Three words, spoken from her mouth, in a voice and pattern she did not recognise.
Falling back on the bed Dana set to thinking.
Suppose this was still a dream, then soon she would wake.
Suppose it wasn't.
Then why. That was all she needed to know. Why?
She searched her memory.
Their had been an attack on some elves, she could accept that as true.
She had been sought, captured and tried, she could accept that.
She had been executed ........
Had she? Then how was she here?
"I, Dana...."
She had been executed and somehow saved?
Saved by who?
Naruth. The name rang in her head.
But why? Why would Naruth ressurect a follower of Gruin?
Finally a light went on in Dana's head.
She was a bloodmage, a direct descendant of Brimscale himself.
She was powerful, many times she had heard this from others.
Yes, Dana was sure that Naruth would not wish to see a daughter of Brimscale wasted when a use could be found for her.
But why did she look so different?
The elves had beheaded her. Had they mutilated her body so badly it was beyond repair?
She doubted it.
Why her new face, her new voice?
The only conclussion she could draw was to save her being recognised and once again sought by Ferien.
Dana owed her life, her very being, to Naruth.
If service was to be the way she showed her gratitude, then so be it.
Gruin had turned his back, Naruth had opened her arms, Dana had run to them.
A new face, a new life, a new god. She would need a new name.
"I, Dana ...." |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 13 Sep 2006 10:19 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Dana/Nadia herself))
Attitude and acquaintance
A whole day and night Dana spent in her room alone.
No sounds came from the adjoining room, meaning Lucius was away. For that she was grateful.
How many times she had stood before the mirror looking at her new face, she could not recollect.
Now, still unsure of herself she was at least coming to terms with the way she looked.
She decided she would remain anonymous, at least for the time being.
She might reveal her identity to a select few once she was absolutely sure of their reactions.
Ferien must never learn of her existence.
Her new mistress had gone to great pains to reunite body and soul, and she was not about to jeopordise that.
Naruth, her new mistress.
Dana owed her a life, a soul, she would dedicate her life to Naruth with vigour, total loyalty.
If there was one thing Dana was good at, it was loyalty.
The one thing she could never tolerate was betrayal.
Gruin had turned his back on her, any fealty she once held was gone, instantly.
Apart from the physical she was also aware of other changes.
Her voice, for one. Still it suprised her when she spoke.
She was also painfully aware that her appearance suddenly had become of great importance to her.
The many times she had run to the mirror to gaze upon her face she had also taken to giving her entire body a close scrutiny.
She had brushed her hair some eight or nine times in the period of a day, each time it had been as tidy before she brushed as it was after.
When not thinking about Naruth, and her own circumstances, she replayed the events she had 'dreamed' over and over.
The faces of those who had played their part in her downfall circled in her head.
She was suprised at her own reactions upon considering each.
As the day wore on she also chose for herself a new name, Nadia.
Gathering her few belongings and bolstering her confidence as best she could, Nadia left her room in the Broken Mask.
The tavern was empty, she reached the street, heart pounding, it also was empty.
She made her way to the upper port area, her work had begun.
Her first call was to see the jeweller, Omiga.
Her first real contact with someone who knew her when she was Dana.
Omiga showed no signs of recognition towards her.
As casually as she could she asked if he had any fire opals, knowing full well he never did.
She hastily concocted a story, telling him that she needed some for a project in alchemy she was undertaking.
Upon his reply in the negative she asked, again casually, if he knew of any adventurers or craftsmen who bought fire opals into his shop to work with.
Omiga said that he knew people did, but that he had never bothered to ask their names.
A relatively large purse found its way from her belt onto the counter top.
Nadia, smiling, told Omiga that a list of names of people who worked fire opals would help her immensely in her search.
And the more names he could produce, the more of such purses could be his.
Omiga needed no further pursuasion, he readily agreed to her request.
Pleased with her progress she swept from the shop and returned to the lower port.
Naruth had asked Nadia to protect her church, armed with the names of those who violated it for gems her task would be made easier.
Surely, to Nadia's mind, if the temple was Naruth's church, the volcano and its surroundings were the churches gardens.
She was aware fire opals were available from other more dangerous sources, but few people knew that, seeing the volcano as an easy target.
Returning to the mask she sat and wrote a short post, requesting the purchase of fire opals, making a few copies she set out and placed them in obvious places around port and the trading post.
It was as she was leaving the trading post she had an encounter with one who knew Dana well. Salt Sower.
He showed no inkling of recognition, apologised for hitting her with the door as she entered, and was generally pleasant.
Her own words to him were a suprise to her.
They formed on her tongue and were spoken before she had even realised.
She found herself talking to him as a lesser person than she, the way a noble of some standing would talk down to a serving girl.
Salt was unfazed, and after a few minutes of smalltalk they parted.
Her notices posted she made her way to Buckshire, once again she encountered Salt, this time he was in conversation with Rosen.
Nadia approached them, she was suprised to find her loathing of Rosen now replaced with a feeling of tolerance, she had no urge to spit or insult the woman.
She did, however, find herself talking down to her the same way she had with Salt
It was not a deliberate act, this new persona assumed that everyone was below her.
Salt suggested the three of them move into the tavern where they could sit and speak in comfort. Nadia and Rosen agreed, and they made their way to the door.
The sudden appearance of Talion took Rosen away on other business, so Salt and Nadia entered alone.
Seated at a table were Sulanna and Alyssa.
Nadia's eyes narrowed at the sight of the fallen Naruthian preistess.
Her voice became venomous, full of contempt, and she found herself adopting an agressive attitude to both the women.
But Alyssa was certainly better practised at being superior than Nadia was, and finding herself outgunned she was pleased to see the two of them leave the tavern and dissappear into the night.
There would be other times.
The two of them, Salt and herself, took their seats at the table vacated by Alyssa and Sulanna.
Salt decided a story was in order, and commenced to relate the story of the day the world changed, the day the Sisters fought, and his small part in it.
Nadia who had not been present that day knew the story well enough, but listened politely.
Midway through the story the halfling Fennigan appeared from thin air, a trick he could pull when he chose to.
A little smalltalk and Salt resumed his tale.
Just before he concluded the door swung open and Ophelia and Karli entered.
Some small scene played out, as Karli expressed her joy at Ophelia's acquital at the trial, while Ophelia seemed ill at ease and intent on emptying the better part of Doc's ale barrels.
Nadia watched closely.
So, there had -definitely- been a trial, she had not dreamed that part, she must assume the rest was also real.
Ophelia's low mood and gradual intoxication gradually wore down Karli's exhuberance.
Nadia took the time to examine each of those gathered, to assess her feelings.
Salt, her new self could like him.
Fennigan, had potential she could accept him and possibly make use of his skills.
Ophelia, some strange deeply hidden feeling of loathing was trying to surface, she kept it down.
Karli, she had put her in the box marked 'likeable idiot' until she found out Karli's goddess was the ice bitch Vilyave. A whole new slant placed Karli as potential enemy.
While she had been studying these faces from her past, Nadia had failed to hear the quiet entrance of the person she most feared facing. Even moreso than Lucius.
A gentle low voice directly behind her. Alis.
Every muscle in Nadia's body tensed, her eyelids snapped shut tightly for the briefest of seconds as Alis made her hello's to those gathered.
Nadia stayed silent, hoping against hope that Alis would not notice her.
A vain hope, they were but three feet apart.
Thankfully Ophelia's drinking was taking the attention of most, Alis's included.
She took the opportunity to study Alis. The girl seemed very upset. Nadia was fairly sure she knew why.
Ophelia, now in such a low mood that nobody was reaching her, suddenly stormed out. An uncomfortable silence followed before Alis took a seat, the one right next to Nadia's.
Almost as if it had been planned in advance Salt announced he must be leaving.
Fennigan also had to be elsewhere.
Nadia was alone with her former best friend.
She struggled to find something to say, but there was only one question she wanted to ask, the one she knew she could not.
They spoke pleasantly enough of lesser things, clothes and other frivolities.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Nadia moved the talk around to why Alis appeared to be in such low spirits.
The answer came as no suprise, Alis mourned her best friend.
Nadia attempted to seem uninterested, trying to make frivolous replies to Alis sombre words.
Tentatively Nadia broached the subject of whether there was any hope at all that her friends soul could be raised.
Alis was determined that it could not, should not. To do such would upset something called the Cycle.
Nadia accepted these words with great sadness.
Of the few people she hoped to one day be able to reveal herself too, Alis was right there at the very top of her list. The very top.
For some little while longer they talked, then Nadia took her leave.
As she stood and looked down at the small form of the girl she once loved like a sister, still did, she was overcome with remorse at the way she had bought about this situation.
She bid Alis a farewell, turned and left the tavern.
Having inspected the seats in Jusin's cart for cleanliness, she would not sully her clean robes, she mounted and endured the bumpy tracks back to port.
Her thoughts were with Alis and her loss.
Then the Naruthian in her raised its head.
Dana was a stupid, careless, psychotic little bitch who had deserved to die.
She must not dwell on Alis sorrow, she had promised Brimscale she would be strong. And strong she would be.
Upon arriving back at port she took out a rental on Dana's room which now stood vacant.
Still no sounds from the room next door.
Nadia shrugged, stood naked before her full length mirror and inspected herself for even the tiniest blemish.
She took up her brush and spent an hour on her hair before retiring to bed.
She still had much to do, and tomorrow was another day.
She fell to sleep quickly, her concience clear.
But once asleep, and unable to control the direction her mind took, she dreamed.
Of Alis. |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 14 Sep 2006 11:47 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Vilyavians and wizards
Vilyavians
She woke with the dawn, her bed in disarray, a sure sign she had slept soundly, but restlessly.
Early starts were becoming the norm for her.
Dana would spend up to an hour washing, choosing her robe for the day and generally making herself look presentable.
This selfsame task took Nadia three times as long. And at this point in time Nadia had but one robe to choose from. Something she must rectify at the earliest.
While she did her hair for the fifth time she decided on how she would pass the day, by the time she had redone it she had a rough timetable in her head.
She took a light breakfast of fruit and bread, then made her way out.
The tavern already had its first few customers, she recognised Ophelia, but gave no greeting, the others were strangers. One, a man, seemingly very drunk.
Without breaking her pace she headed to the street, turned towards the upper port and made her way to see Omiga.
A discreet exchange of gold for a small parchment and she had her first names of those who had brought fire opals to work in his shop.
She would have to vet the list, she could not assume every fire opal mined on Vives came from the volcano.
Folding the parchment, and sliding it inside her robe, she left and made her way back to the lower port area.
A few minor purchases later amd she was returning to her room to unload.
As she entered the tavern the same group were gathered, a couple of them were standing in preparation to leave.
Nadia slowed her step, tried to read something on Ophelia's face, but the orc seemed so low there was no expression there to read.
She was talking to the very drunk man. Talking of M'Gok Tukar, how they no longer recognised her continued existence, and hence she no longer recognised theirs.
A twinge of anger swept through Nadia as she listened.
Ophelia's farcicle performance in court had failed them both, she deserved everything she got.
Her slowing of pace gave the drunk young man ample opportuntiy to intercept her, and he invited her to sit with them.
Nadia had no inclination to share her morning with the ramblings of a drunk, but her interest in Ophelia's discomfort got the better of her.
She found herself sitting.
However, it quickly became apparent that the man was becoming intolerant of Ophelia, that his attention was directed at Nadia, in particular her clothes which clung to her, wet from the rain outside.
Barely, it seemed, could he drag his eyes away, and made no attempt to do so.
Nadia's newfound Naruthian nature relished the looks, took succour from them, bolstered her ego and made her body language more provocative, more inviting. This was not something she was aware she was doing, it had become as natural to her as drawing a breath.
Without warning Ophelia suddenly left. Each time Nadia had seen her, since her return, the woman had acted the same way. Suddenly standing, storming out without so much as a farewell.
Now left with the young man, who was slowly sobering, Nadia enjoyed herself, flirting outrageously with him, pandering to his ego.
More than once, as she gazed into his eyes, she saw the face of Lucius before her, and she was at once scared and joyous to be so close to him.
She was missing his embrace, she was missing his warmth, she was missing his body.
Nadia's carnel needs were no less than Dana's.
Remebering the items she had purchased she made her excuses to Roland, for that was his name, promising to return shortly.
She hurried to her room, deposited the few things in her chest, and returned to the bar.
The shock she got on re-entering the bar area almost numbed her.
Sitting at the table she had shared with Roland was Karli, the Vilyavian bard.
Determined not to be displaced she retook her seat and presented Karli with her very best glare.
Karli seemed to be in high spirits, or at least was high on something, her mood ebulant and bouncy.
Eventually noticing the looks Nadia was sending her way she began a fumbled apology for her actions at their last meeting.
Nadia waited for the sting.
The apology was made, albeit recalcitrant, and there was no 'but' at the end.
Nadia graciously accepted the apology in the spirit it was given, adding that she would pass on Karli's good words the next time she spoke to her Lady at prayers.
She did her best to keep Roland's attention firmly fixed upon herself. Any interest he showed in Karli she countered with a remark, or a body movement designed to present herself as the more alluring prospect.
More relaxed now the three spoke more easily, and despite Nadia's best efforts she found herself warming to Karli, liking her more than ever she had before.
A not altogether pleasing prospect.
Nadia would come to learn soon enough that unless she wished to be a very lonely person a more relaxed attitude was going to prove to be her salvation.
The talk moved from topic to topic, they were joined by Fenn, then later by Sam, and Nadia had to admit it was a very pleasant morning.
By the time Karli stood to seek her bed, and her man, Allan, Nadia had taken her off the list marked 'enemy' and placed her on the list marked 'friend'.
Wizards
Later that day she had another chance encounter with an old and very loved acquaintance, Oragastus.
They met as strangers, Nadia reluctant at this early stage to trust even one as loyal to her as the wizard.
They shared an adventure together, a trip to the top of Se'eth's tower.
Along the way they met up with Sam, who, it seemed, shared an interest in exploiting the place, for what treasures he could find.
A fairly uneventful climb to the top of the tower was had by all, the only moment of nervousness being when Oragastus stepped onto a trap, knocking him onto his back and causing him trouble with his breathing.
A hurried application of salves and he was standing again, somewhat shaken but otherwise in good fettle.
Sam and Oragastus hit it off together very quickly, Nadia attempted to maintain her distance from Oragastus, attempted to remain a stranger.
She made one mistake that could have cost her dear.
Unwittingly she responded to one of Oragastus's remarks with the same answer she had used as Dana.
Oragastus, not as slow of mind as he was of body, picked up on it immediately.
Nadia dismissed it as a coincidence, although the chances of anyone replying to his remark with such an unusual riposte were thousands to one against.
Having conquered the tower another trip was hastily planned, this time to the deserts archealogical dig.
To make the whole thing a little light hearted the three adventurers used the three ways in seperately in a kind of race, as each route was uniquely suited to their individual skills.
One route demanded a series of riddles be answered, Oragastus took that.
One route demanded a series of traps be disarmed, Sam's department.
The final route was pure combat, Nadia's speciality.
Oragastus reached the second level first, she second with Sam arriving a few seconds later.
They cleared the ruin as completely as was possible, as requested by the diggers, and found some nice trophies in the process.
All together they agreed it had been a most pleasing day.
Nadia bought herself a new dress and had some fun dying it with Oragastus casting his critical eye over her work.
They spoke of things both upbeat and lowbrow.
Oragastus was missing Dana terribly, but she had expected as much. She tried to make him feel a little better about himself before the two of them parted company for the day.
She wondered if she could ever rekindle the friendships she had once taken for granted again.
Oragastus
Alis
Tomi
Sam
Holace
Fenn
Kal
So many more.
She hoped against hope that she could.
The effort would need to be made by herself, she must not expect old alliances to suddenly reignite.
Her friends now looked upon her as a stranger.
Some of them always would.
Time would tell.
Nadia retired to her room early that night.
She pondered the days events.
It had been a worthwhile day, a good day.
As she stripped for bed a parchment slid from the material of her robe.
Smiling she picked it up and unfolded it.
Today had been fun.
Tomorrow, business was business. |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 16 Sep 2006 02:33 PM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Friends
Some people choose solitude and loneliness, others have it thrust upon them.
Nadia fell into this latter group, and she hated it.
Sitting right on the lip of the volacno's firey summit she reflected on the previous few days.
Before her resurrection by the Lady Naruth, in the Dana days, she had many many friends.
Not all agreed with her ideals, she did not agree with many of theirs, but still she never lacked companionship.
And of course there had been her almost constant chaperone, Lucius.
Perhaps it was Lucius that drew people to her, she would never find out now.
The Lady Naruth may have performed a miracle to put her back together, changed her appearance and manner, all those things and more.
But one part of Dana remained, the desire to be liked.
She could not understand why people took such an instant dislike to her.
She made no secret of the fact she was a Naruthian, she was proud to serve one of such power.
But Alyssa, before the Lady Naruth had turned Her back on her, had never hidden the fact she was a Naruthian either.
And Alyssa had never wanted for company.
Where was she going wrong?
Nadia looked attractive, smelled wonderful, and was polite. Exactly the way Alyssa was.
Her chance encounter with Oragastus had given her some glimmer of hope.
They had journeyed together a few times, talked at length.
She had felt him warming to her, not the same way he had to Dana, but they had a mutual respect for each other that could blossom, given the chance.
But she feared the friendship was to be short-lived.
On their last outting with Sam he had suddenly become withdrawn, would give her strange glances periodically.
Then without barely a word he had walked out saying he needed some time to think.
She had wanted to go after him, but something about his manner told her she would not be wanted or appreciated.
Apart from Oragastus she had found companionship lacking.
She was often joined by people when she travelled, but there was never anything more than a polite tolerance of her presence.
Then there was Alis, their single encounter had been tense to say the least.
Alis had been open with her, but had remained distant.
Nadia truly thought her former friend was slightly afraid of her.
She had tried to remember the first time Alis and Dana had met, she recalled no such reaction.
Listening to Alis speak, and being unable to reveal her identity to her had torn her heart.
Alyssa had been a good friend to Dana, now it seemed they must be enemies.
She knew she should look upon the girl with contempt, and in many ways she did.
She was a failed priest of the Lady, an outcast.
The newborn Naruthian spirit that dwelt inside her had made poor attempts at being superior, but she had been easily out-manouvered by Alyssa' quicker tongue
In some respects she was glad of it.
The words had fallen from her mouth with little conviction.
Whenever she looked upon Alyssa' face she was reminded of the times they had shared together in the Broken Mask. Of the day Dana had recieved instruction on how to make the most of her appearance, the laughter.
Ophelia now sickened her, not just because of her performance at their trial, but for what she had become since.
A drunkard with no direction.
The strange line of questioning from Ophelia the previous day had angered her. Referring to her as one of 'those Volcano people'
Sam (Fat Sam) she had still not encountered, and the way things were going she was not sure she wanted to.
Another rebuttal from a former friend would weaken her resolve still more.
She wondered what his opinion of Naruthians was, he had never spoken of Gods to her.
They had spoken of things that friends spoke of, religion was a taboo.
Holace had not reacted well to her.
Their chance meeting in the Vale had been brief, he had almost run from the room.
Holace was quick to adapt though.
Of all her former friends she imagined Holace would accept who she had been the easiest, and would ask the least questions.
But of the two people she had decided to reveal herself to, eventually, Holace was not one of them.
And of course, Lucius.
He, it seemed, had not been seen by anyone for many days. Hardly at all since the trial.
She hoped he was away somewhere collecting his thoughts and coming to terms with what had happened.
She dearly hoped he was not out plotting something to avenge her, or getting himself into some weird pact with demons in a vain hope of having her raised.
Dear Lucius, she missed him so badly.
She was sure that should they meet he would quickly detect some small thing about her that would make him suspicious as to her true identity.
Then what would happen?
She really did not want to dwell on that too much.
She hoped she had the inner strength to fulfil her duty to the Lady.
She was having serious doubts about herself.
As she sat on the shingled slopes of the Lady's domain she looked out across the fields of flowing lava.
Red rivers bubbled and rolled their way down the almost sheer sides of the volcano.
The heat barely affected her now, she was not sweating.
So why did her eyes sting so badly? |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 20 Sep 2006 10:34 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Starting over
NOTE: This post contains a bit of language, and some descriptive violence that some may be uncomfortable with
Two days of soul searching and contemplation in the realm of her mistress had left Nadia feeling more at ease with her life and herself.
She had come to the volcano to brood, she had done that and more.
She had resolved to make herself less overbearing, more tolerant of others.
She realised that whether she liked it or not, loneliness was not for her. She needed to have companionship.
Her charcoal stick had been busy too.
Her single piece of parchment with a list of names on had now become two.
Two lists.
One contained the names of those known to have ransacked the Lady's temple, the second one, shorter by several names, was a list of those who she owed a return of favour too.
The betrayers.
The finger pointers.
The ones who had made things bad for her in the 'Dana days'
With a lighter step she set out from the volcano, her destination clear.
She chatted brightly with Kusin on the cart ride from the plains to Ladriel, spent a couple of hours comparing notes on men with Natana awaiting the dawn boats arrival.
The rain forced her below decks in an attempt to save her hair from its onslaught, the girl guard was in no mood to talk so she spent the journey fussing about getting her hair right and drying her clothes as best the small brazier could.
The boat put her down at the coast, just outside Buckshire, and she hurried into the quiet village and on to Doc's where she rested briefly
Seating herself at a table she opened the shorter of the two lists.
The first name emblazoned in capitals read, KARKUS.
Karkus had made things very awkward for Dana, his proposal of marriage at the Bloodmoon feast had blocked her tribes acceptance of Lucius as a suitable mate for her.
Now it was his turn to suffer.
She hurried from the tavern, crossed to the large gates that seperated the village from the threat of its nearest neighbours, the mountain giants and their stronger cousins that made up the tribe Karkus ruled over, the Firkrag gargantua.
She quickly prepared herself, casting many enchantments.
The final one the most important, the magic of hiding.
She had no quarrel with the giants as a tribe, just their leader and his witch wife.
She made good speed through the area, running all the way, then used her magic of jumping to lift herself down to the lower levels and the entrance to the giants lair.
Upon entering her eyes took some moments to adjust to the blackness within.
As soon as she could make out some detail she began to move, fast.
She ran across the stepping stone causeway, through the maze of tunnels to the lower level.
Maintaining her pace she quickly found herself at the entrance to the throne room. She had been here before so needed no guidance finding it.
In the gloom a single light burned with an unnatural bluish glow, something the witch, Karkus' first wife, was working on, no doubt.
She would be the one to be wary of.
Karkus himself was strong, exceedingly so, but he was also ungainly and slow.
The witch, Nadia knew, was both quick and skilled in the use of the arcane.
She inched forwards slowly, she expected traps, and she was not disappointed.
She found two of them near the entrance, nimbly skirted them and found herslf standing at the opposite end of the throne room to where she expected Karkus and his witch to be.
She did not want them dead, they must suffer, so she concentrated her mind to controlling the ferocity of her magics when she struck.
So far she had remained unseen, she could vaguely make out the lumbering bulk of the giant king ahead of her, but the witch was hidden somewhere.
Again she inched forwards, her slowness ensuring her passage was as silent as it was unseen.
She sneaked by the giant king, he really was a massive creature, and on to the rear of the cave he called his throne room.
And there she was, the witch.
Skulking about with assorted jars under her arm, contents unknown, she was oblivious to the threat standing but feet away from her.
Having noted her position Nadia moved back to the entrance of the large cave, and there, out of earshot, she cast upon herself a magic of speed.
This done she took a long, deep breath and made her move.
Arriving back at the witches side again she closed her eyes, saw in her minds eye a clockface, visualised the hands slowing, stopping. She made the cast.
For a few seconds the word would cease to move, with the exception of herself.
The witch remained where she was, unmoving, her magical defences unprepared for such a sudden attack.
Nadia had no fear of Karkus for the present, the witch was her primary concern.
She cast upon her a limited burst of energy, enough to knock the woman on her backside and unconcious.
Her magics may be feared, but the witches body was that of a woman, no super being.
Turning round Nadia still had time to cast twice more upon Karkus before the hands of time began to move again.
It was very close, she almost killed the giant king, but he still drew breath as his huge body crashed unconcious to the rock floor.
Nadia had no idea how long the pair would remain at her mercy, she must work fast.
Taking from her belt her skinning knife, the bluntest she had, she bent over the witch.
Nadia was suprised to note the woman was not that old, nor was she ugly, as everyone speculated.
Not ugly yet.
Working quickly, and with no care, Nadia inserted the knife through the womans nose, just above the bridge, and quickly cut downwards, slicing the thing off.
Turning the womans head on its side she repeated the act for first the left, then the right ears.
The blood from the wounds poured freely over the witches face, her heart still beating pushing it out in short bursts.
Nadia upended the knife, so the pommel faced down, and smashed it into the womans temple, hopefully ensuring herself a few more minutes before conciousness returned.
The witch finished with she ran to where the inert gaint lay, a gash on his huge head where it had made contact with a boulder on the way down.
He at least would be out for some good while.
A quick glance down the length of the cave and she was sure that the hiatus had not been overheard, and none of Karkus minions was rushing to his aid. Their sheer bulk would mean she could hear any approach long before a danger threatened her.
But she had seen only one giant anywhere near the throne room, and he was well out of sight and sound of the things happening within.
She sat heavily on the giant kings chest, her legs astride him.
Leaning down she kissed him full on his huge, immobile, unresponsive lips.
"Marry me now, you bastard" she hissed into his face.
Forcing open the massive mouth, she crammed the ears and nose of the witch deeply inside, then using the pommel of the knife she took a few seconds to smash out seven of the giants teeth.
She then repeated the procedure carried out on the witch, with Karkus' ears and nose.
She dropped them into her bag.
She glanced at his loincloth, the only article of clothing he wore.
Hurriedly she did what she had to do, dropping the bloodied article into her bag along with the ears and nose.
The witch was stirring, groaning quietly in the dark, she must hurry.
Jumping back astride his chest she leaned over the bloody mess that was his face.
Grinning she hissed into the hole where his left ear had been "Goodnight sweetheart", before leaping to her feet, casting a magic of hiding and slipping back out the cave system the way she had come in.
The remainder of the tribe were blissfully unaware of all that had gone on.
Karkus inability to place sufficient guards around his throne room was his own fault.
But she doubted if they would have been able to stop her, had he done so, such was the fire in her soul.
With a skip in her step, and her outfit caked in dryed blood, she emerged into the sunshine of Buckshire, still hidden.
She made her way out to the trail.
Skulking near the trees were two cougars.
She got close to them, they could smell her, but not see her. She opened her bag and tipped the grissly contents out on the grass near to them.
She sat and watched for a few minutes until every last morsel was devoured
She felt good.
She made her way back to her room in port, changed into clean clothes and washed the evidence of her afternoon from her regular outfit.
Settling upon her bed she opened up the parchment with the shorter list on.
She took the charcoal and scratched out the name at the top, written in capitals. KARKUS.
She looked at the next name.
This one would not be so easy.
This one had friends. |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 21 Sep 2006 06:35 AM |
| ((deleted)) |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 27 Sep 2006 11:07 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Making changes
A Barnas production
Something a friend had said to her had rung alarm bells in Nadia's head.
Upon arriving back at her room in port she had spent longer than usual in front of the mirror.
Despite the transformation of her physical body she still resembled her former self when in her travelling attire, and especially when she had covered herself in the many protections she used for fighting.
Her mask and the massive sword she weilded were a mistake, she realised that much.
As her friend had pointed out, not very many of her kind carried such weapons into a fight.
Now she found herself unable to sleep, thoughts tumbled around in her head, changes, more changes were needed.
She pushed herself up from the bed, went across to her storage chest and lifted the lid.
In a box buried beneath a selection of new outfits she found a selection of long forgotton helms.
One of them had been a gift to her from her adoptive father, an ugly thing but blessed with many enchantments.
Another had also been a gift, this time from Conn. She never had quite figured out how to make the thing work for her.
Two more had small blessings designed to help her concentrate her mind and her sight.
The final one was a fine example of metalworking, crafted by her own hand.
She removed from the box two of them, the one she herself had made, and the gift from her adoptive father.
Both bore no resemblance whatsoever to the mask she favoured, but neither of them was anywhere near as useful either.
A great shame she could not work the thing to appear differently.
With the care a mother would take laying her newborn in its crib she gently placed the treasured mask in the box, closed it and laid it back in the chest.
Next her attention was drawn to the huge sword that she was so used to handling.
She had trained hard with it, had become quite an expert in its use.
Again, with much reverence, she laid the heavy weapon down in the chest. The magical energies it contained made the blade almost hum.
Taking some old clothes she covered it, hid it from her sight less she be tempted once more to weild it.
She took from the chest another sword, shorter and lighter. It too hummed and buzzed with magical properties.
She hefted it, it felt strange to her touch, she found its arc too short, she would need to compensate.
Perhaps a staff ......
She dismissed that idea quickly. Something deeply rooted in her had a desire to use a blade.
The clothes she wore to travel were on the floor where she had stepped out of them before retiring to her sleepness night.
She spread them out on her bed, spent some time folding parts of the material over, then unfolding them to try something new.
Taking her sewing kit and scissors she set to cutting and moving the material about until the robe began to resemble something acceptable to her eye.
It was tight and revealing enough to give most the girls in port a run for their money.
It would not be so easy to run in, it would likely catch on every bush she passed, but it looked different enough for nobody to link her with a set of Dana's clothes.
It saddened her cut up the robe. It had looked different, individual.
It had been easy to move in, to fight in.
One day, maybe, a long time from now, she would shape it back into its original design.
Having completed the restyle she laid more easily in her bed, and slept the sleep of the blameless.
Had she known the outcome of the following day she would perhaps not have wasted so much energy on redesigning her robe, fate was to step in.
It was as she left the volcano, her daily patrol complete, that she was aware of being followed.
She slowed her pace, stopped and turned.
Moving quickly towards her was ........... a thing.
A ball of fast moving, hissing spitting fire.
She felt no fear, she was in the realm of her mistress, being approached by what she rightly thought to be a messenger.
As the thing approached its hissing and spitting began to make sense to her ears, words formed, the voice she had heard in her dream spoke to her.
The voice of her mistress.
An order was issued, one of the Lady's followers had been taken by the ice bitch, Helkris.
The voice spoke on, she was to travel to where the girl had been taken, the temple of Helkris in Netharu, and retrieve what, if anything, remained of the girl.
Without question she answered that the task would be done, although fear gripped her heart.
Three times previously she had travelled to this place with Sam, they had vowed to each other that one day they would penetrate the temple far enough to see the back wall.
Three times they had gone there, neither of them had yet laid eyes upon the back wall.
She would have to use great care if she was to stand the smallest chance of survival.
Moving fast, she ran most the way, she arrived at the outskirts of Netharu within a few hours.
Another problem now faced her.
Another of Dana's less impressive skills that had carried over was her total lack of direction.
She made her way down to the last area she was certain she must pass through, then made an educated guess which route she should pursue.
An hour later she was back at that same point, making another educated guess.
Another bad choice, on her third attempt she got it right.
She travelled hidden to conserve her magical power, and presently found herself outside the ugly building the ice bitch called a temple.
Should she need to make a hurried exit, possibly drained of power, she decided it prudent to clear the area outside the temple.
This done she drew from her bag one of five identical mirrors and created a portal to a safe area where she could rest and recharge herself.
Previous memories of what lay within those doors told her that she would need every ounce of the power that flowed in her veins.
She called forth a fiery elemental, the first time she had done so since the day in Latonei. She spent time and care making sure both she, and the creature, were properly prepared.
She finished by casting upon them both a magic of hiding, and with trepidation she stepped back out into the icy cold.
Unchallenged the two of them made their way to the temple door, she gently pushed, it swung open noiselessly.
Under her breath she instructed the creature to precede her, which it did.
Two paces behind it she entered herself, the creature was already locked in combat with some strange looking thing, undead without a doubt, but it seemed to be winning, so she turned her attention to the other areas she could see.
Coming her way, fast, was another of the things. She met it with a spell of missiles, it fell quickly.
She was puzzled.
Yes, there was resistance, strong resistance, but the creatures she had most feared appeared to be absent, or further back, out of her sight.
The elemental had finished off its opponent, she instructed it to stay with her, to move slowly, but the creature had spied something else and was already setting off at a pace to engage.
This time it was some sort of knight, clad, or made from, ice.
Despite his overpowering and fearsome appearance she was glad to see how quickly he fell to her.
All was quiet for a few seconds, and it was then that Nadia saw it.
The back wall, and just in front of the wall a gruesome sight.
A stake, driven into a holder set in the floor, roughly six feet in length, and leaning slightly under the weight it supported.
The weight was a body, human, impaled through its back the point emerging through the right breast.
The arms hung down in a parody of a crucifix, the head and legs dangling at the extremes the dead muscles would allow.
The sight so kept her attention she failed to notice the approach of more of the ice bitches minions. the elemental, thankfully, did.
Quickly she turned to face this new threat, and it was dealt with in short order, however, she was begining to feel drained. She could not spare this evil place any more time.
Turning back to the spike and its grissly burden she acted fast.
Hurling herself with all her might against it she toppled the thing, and its load, onto the stone floor of the temple.
Placing her right foot onto the back of what had once been a very pretty girl, she grasped the shaft of the stake, twisted and pulled, and finally released it from the girls torso.
Bending to grasp the body she noticed, for the first time, a set of clothes, most probably those of the girl, as she was quite naked.
On the point of ignoring them she looked again.
Her practised eye told her these were not just ordinary robes, they had an aura of power about them much the same as the robes she now wore herself.
The workmanship on them was also some of the finest she had ever seen, minute stitches, the hems and seams finished to perfection.
She snatched up the robes, pushed them with little reverence into her bag, then manouvered the girls body onto her shoulder.
The journey back to the volcano was uneventful. Using a magic she was able to run most the way, the girls body was lighter than she had expeced.
Nonetheless, by the time she arrived back at the volcano she was exhausted.
As gently as she could she laid the girls body down before the temple steps.
A voice, inside her head, instructed her to leave the body where it lay.
With head bowed she backed away.
She had succeeded in her task, she had not expected to. She fervently hoped the Lady was pleased with her.
Her journey back to her room in port was morose.
She felt angry that the girl had died in such a degrading and grotesque manner.
She wanted to deal some revenge to those who were to blame.
But her instructions from the Lady, given to her on the day of her rebirth, were clear.
She was a servant and protector of her mistress.
She was a peacekeeper, not a warmaker.
Her duties were to protect the interests of the Lady and her church using whatever means she had to, she was not a vigilante.
Upon arriving back at her room she tossed her pack onto the bed, the top came open.
Something red spilled out, the girls robes.
She had not given them another thought since she had stuffed them unceremoniously into her bag so many hours ago.
Now she had time to examine them more closely.
She dropped down onto the bed, took the robes into her lap and studied them carefully.
Yes, they carried the same enhancements as those carried by her own robe, and more besides.
But the thing that caught her eye the most was the cut of the material.
Whoever had designed the garment had an eye for the daring.
The torso almost completely covered in, bordered on the frumpy, the arms were bared from the shoulder.
It was from the waist down that the dress became risque.
Cut long, to end at about calf height, the material was slashed right the way up to the waist, once at the back, straight up the centre, and twice up the front to leave a tiny strip of material covering what needed to be covered for the dress to remain wearable in public places.
Nadia was breathless with exitement as she held this creation up against herself in front of the mirror.
It looked to be about her size, indeed, the girl had been.
She quickly unfastened her robe and stepped into the newly acquired one.
As she slid it up her body some brief resistance was overcome, and something tumbled to the floor.
Whatever it was, she decided, it could wait. The dress was more important.
She pulled the dress up, it clung to her pleasingly, but without being tight.
She posed in front of the mirror. It was love at first sight.
Never one to deny herself praise Nadia admitted to herself she looked dang good in it.
She admired herself from every angle, she loved the way the dress promised a glance of things forbidden, and still managed to deny them.
Some minutes later, having finished her private fashion parade, she turned her attention to the cloth that had fallen to the floor earlier.
She picked ip up, like the dress it was crafted by expert hands, it was in the same material and the same colour.
She shook it open, a cloak, and what a cloak.
Made to match the dress exactly, and with a gold emroidered dragon on the back, the thing promised much in the way of enchantment.
She swung it over her shoulders, fastened it.
Nadia was not the sort of person to be easily impressed, but her own natural ego, and the amazing dress in the reflection, took her breath away.
This dress and cloak had been made for someone special, that much was obvious. She wondered if the Lady would be displeased with her if she kept them and told nobody where she had obtained them.
Something, she knew not what, told her that the Lady would approve.
That was enough for Nadia.
She still felt pity for the girl, but her mind refused to link the dress she had come so quickly to adore, with that sad, twisted, mess of humanity she had carried back to Fiirhallen.
She could not sleep.
Tomorrow was to be her unveiling.
And she could barely contain herself. |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 10 Oct 2006 11:46 PM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Alis's ore
Featuring The Butcher
The day began quietly enough, a leisurely breakfast was followed by a stroll along the coast. The day was hers, and she was going to enjoy it. Nobody was going to change that.
It was on her return to port she came across the comely form of Alis. As was usual the girl looked wonderfully radiant, and Nadia was pleased to note that some progress had been made in her quest to turn the rather plain Alis into a turner of heads. She was standing straighter, although some work still needed doing on her posture, her fingernails and hands were looking far more the way they should, and unless she was mistaken, Alis was wearing her skirt slightly shorter.
The two of them soon fell to talking, and shortly after Bel appeared.
Nadia was always reminded of an insect whenever she saw Bel come scuttling along the dock, her trademark staff clutched tightly before her.
At first meeting Nadia had been very unsure of Bel, finding her quest for knowledge a little unsettling. However, in the more recent weeks she had begun to see Bel in a new light. Her stuttering speech and total naivity of all things related to fashion and the ways of men was both amusing and charming. Nadia had taken Bel into her heart.
Bel's magic display at the festival had also drawn many favourable comments, proving Bel to be more an artist of magics than an user.
The three of them began to talk of general things, some lesser news items were discussed and eventually the question of what plans they had for the day was raised.
It seemed that all three women had the day free, Alis had been planning to journey for some ores, but the man who was to be her guide had left, so Nadia offered her services in his place. Alis readily agreed.
There were two metals she sought, platinum and silver. After some short discussion it was decided the platinum was both nearer to where they stood, and the easier of the two metals to work, so it would make sense to acquire it first.
Bel was invited to join them, and it was whilst she was struggling to make up her mind that Talion strode up.
His interest was piqued as soon as he realised a trip, albeit a not terribly exciting one, was being arranged.
An invitation was made to him to accompany them, and he readily agreed.
Nadia was quite pleased about this, it had been two days since she had done any flirting and she required some male attention the way some people require food, or a fish requires water.
Previous light-hearted attempts to turn Talions eye had met with stubborn resistance, but she enjoyed the challenge.
She suprised herself daily with just how much she had changed since her rebirth from Dana into Nadia.
Could it be the work of the Lady, actually affecting her thoughts, her emotions? Changing her so subtly, yet so completely?
It was not only the way she acted that was altered, her whole outlook.
As Dana she believed men to be superior creatures to be obeyed without question, to be served, waited upon as lords. As Nadia she looked down on them with contempt, tools to be used by her to get what she wanted.
Her hatred of elves had tempered, she still found them disturbing to be around, but she was not prone to feelings of violence toward them at the very sight of a slightly pointed ear.
Her total commitment to the orcs, and in particular M'Gok Tukar had gone full circle, she now detested them for the way they had spurned her and Gruin had refused aid when she most needed it.
She found some of her old allies tiresome now, and some of those she had disliked she now numbered amongst her friends. She had made this change seamlessly, almost without realising.
Perhaps the only constant had been Ullalume.
As Dana she had disliked her intensely, then warmed to her after she ministered Lucius wounds after the events in Nailamne, she had tried hard to understand the way her mind worked, tried for Lucius sake, and had ended up grudgingly respecting her for her ardent nature and her dedication to her duty.
Now, she found herself hating the woman with a vengeance again. Firstly, for the venomous words she had used towards the Lady on their first meeting, and more recently because she seemed determined to 'undo' the warnings Nadia made regarding the violations of the Lady's realm, the volcano.
Perhaps if a few innocent lives were lost, the blood lust of whichever demon god she worshipped would be sated.
Lucius was fast fading into memory now, she knew a place in her heart would always be his, and so it should be, they had been through much together, more than many people experienced in a lifetime, and, of course, they had shared a bed for some months. Perhaps it was because he seemed not to notice her anymore, perhaps her Naruthian pride was dented, she knew not what, but he was definitely becoming a memory. A very fond memory.
Now she needed more. She needed the eyes of many men to linger upon her, to yearn for her, and, generally speaking, they did.
Talion was fairly immune to her efforts.
She mused that, either he had a woman already, or he found women less than desirable. Whichever, she was going to enjoy herself immensely today trying to get a response from him.
She made a couple of whispered remarks to Alis about his physique which bought forth a blush on the girls cheeks, they shared a smile.
After some minutes of checking packs and supplies all of them were prepared for the journey they set out.
They arrived at the sewer entrance, entered and made their way along the badly smelling corridors and walkways until they reached a door leading down.
This led to the lower sewer areas, here at least the smell was more bearable, but still Nadia found herself desperately seeking that elusive trapdoor which would take them still further from it.
One by one they let themselves down the trapdoor to the next level. Nadia had never satisfied herself just what this place was. It was either a crypt, a disused prison, or an elaborate extension of the sewer system.
She and Talion knew the way to the ore, and so they took the lead. A new smell assailed their nostrils, the smell of death. Nadia knew the place to be the home of undead creatures of a lesser nature and sure enough, a short way up the first corridor they encountered some floating spirit-like creatures, these were despatched in short order, and slowly they made their way forwards, mindful of traps which often were placed here.
A few traps were located, marked out for the others in the party with less keen eyes, and carefully moved around.
Within a few minutes they had approached the area where the ore Alis sought could be mined.
The door was swung open, a few undead skeletal creatures within were quickly disposed of, and the last barrier between them and their goal lay before them.
Nadia's rudimentary skills at lockpicking proved to be below the task, the massive door was not going to break easily. She saw no option but to waken the pixie she carried on her belt in a pouch.
The tiny creature slept almost its entire life away, yet still it protested at being woken.
She instructed it to open the lock and disarm the trap upon the door, which it dutifully did.
The door dealt with the fey returned to the pouch and its slumbers.
The four of them entered, and with a heartstopping clang the door swung shut behind them, firmly locking itself. The pixie would need to be woken again when they wished to leave, not a prospect she relished. For one so small it could be very demanding.
The vein of ore lay bare before them, Talion had volunteered his services as miner and carrier of ore and within moments of arriving he set to work.
Nadia enjoyed the view, rippling muscles and sweat, a combination which she found most distasteful on a woman, but pushed all the right buttons for her, when worn on the male.
Bel, who for the most part had been silent up to this point, busied herself with checking some small bags left on the ground by some previous mining party, and came away with a few gold coins they had left behind.
Alis, like Nadia, watched Talion work.
His practised eye seemed to know exactly where the pickaxe must land to garner the largest supply of ore for the least effort, and quickly he had accumulated a sizeable pile. The vien was becoming less dense now, and Talion told Alis he would be struggling to find more until some of the dust settled.
Alis looked over the pile he had already mined and said that she thought she had enough already, and that he should not trouble himself further.
Talion packed away the picks and the ore he had mined.
Once again the grouchy pixie was woken.
Nadia decided it was time to have some fun. The trek down here had been unpleasant, and now she was covered in dust from the mining, and she was in need of some light entertainment.
Speaking in low tones to the pixie, and with much nodding of heads and conspiratorial mutterings she pretended to be arguing with the pixie, and finally reaching an agreement.
She turned to Talion and informed him that the pixie had demanded that before she opened the door again, he, Talion, must make the journey back to the surface unclad, naked.
His reaction was as she predicted it would be, he flatly refused, but after some few minutes of the pixie stubbornly refusing to open the door unless he complied, he reluctantly agreed and removed his armour and undergarments.
He covered his embarressment with a collection of protective magics, so he retained some dignity.
Bel seemed not to know where to place her eyes, Nadia knew exactly where to place hers, and Alis found the ceiling to be of great interest.
Chuckling to herself she told the pixie to open the door, the fey complied this time.
Had Talion been able to mine silently the four of them possibly would have heard the sounds from the next room. The sight that greeted them upon the door opening was one that none of them had prepared themselves for.
Rushing towards them were undead skeletal forms. Not the groups of five or six they had encountered on the previous engagements. With the alarm raised the creatures had time to gather in numbers. Storming towards the door there appeared to be hundreds, but in reality there was nearer fifty of them. Thankfully Alis and Bel were at the rear of the party, Nadia and Talion took the main force of them stalling them in the doorway.
Then without warning the two of them were pushed aside, and back into the room as the accursed door slammed shut again, locking them in.
This in itself was not a bad thing, they now knew what lay beyond and could prepare better.
Magics were cast, preperations made. Talion was still naked, either in the excitement it had slipped his mind, or he was enjoying himself. For whatever reason his clothing remained off.
They decided to rush the skeletons, they were not strong fighters.
Once again the pixie unlocked the door, as it swung open the skeleton force thronged forwards, Nadia cast two of her newly learned magics of intensity upon them, a sure destroyer of undead creations it blasted down a massive ray of light and heat. She hoped that Talion's close proximity to the creatures and her magics had not left him blinded.
She reminded herself to shout a warning next time.
The magics caused devastation, wiping out about half of their adversaries.
Talion laid about himself with sword, Nadia rushed to his side and between them a swathe was quickly cut down the centre, then the stragglers were sent the way of their comrades.
Turning to check everyone was safe they realised that Bel and Alis had fallen foul of that accursed door again. This time the fight had stopped the pixie falling to sleep, she undid the door again with a minimum of fuss.
Released Alis and Bel joined them, and the foursome began to retrace their steps. Not more than twenty feet had been covered, however, when a door was flung open at their rear, and another army of skeletons charged at them.
Remembering to call a warning this time, Nadia cast two more of her intensity magics. Talion, unlike so many swordsmen she could think of, immediately broke his contact with the undead warriors, retreating to a place near Nadia's side allowing her free rein to cast without fear of blinding him. The two magics she cast had a similar effect to before, and then Talion cleaned up the remaining ones.
They carried on with their journey.
With no small relief they emerged back through the trapdoor,and headed upwards.
The sense of safety they experienced was short lived. Nearing the door that led up to the sewers proper they were confronted by five or six of the smelliest, ugliest things Nadia had ever had the misfortune to clap eyes on. Her stomach turned over at the smell and sight of them.
Talion was at them straight away, his sword slicing the creatures to bloody, smelly ribbons, but they were tough, very tough and Talion seemed to be having some little trouble felling the first one.
Standing to his rear Nadia cast over his head several magics of energy missiles.
These normally devastating spells met strong resistance from the stink creatures, taking four of her casts to fell three of them. Talion's blade saw to the other two.
It was as the last of the creatures fell that she realised the true horror of the day.
She stank, they all did.
Her beautiful dress was covered in ............ whatever those creatures were formed from, she dreaded to think what clung to her at this moment.
Her hair was matted down with yet more of the same. Horror struck she slowly turned to Alis, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Alis and Bel stood to the rear of the group, but had fared little better.
The entire party was just one huge, stinking mess.
Silently they made their way back to the surface.
A visit to the bath-house was agreed upon, but upon arriving the manager appeared from his back office and demanded they leave.
Bel decided to go and clean herself up privately, Alis said she would go home and attend herself.
Nadia and Talion started to make their way to the dig in Kobai. Nadia had remembered a huge cool waterfall there that would suit their needs.
On the way they decided that Tanglewood was nearer, although the waterspouts there were nowhere near as effective.
They managed to sneak unseen past the Artio encampment, found themselves a waterspout each, undressed and showered.
No matter how she scrubbed, rubbed and scraped herself it soon became apparent that Nadia was not going to clean this mess off herself in a single wash.
Her nostrils were still filled with the stench, so she could not ascertain how badly she smelled.
She took her dress, her wonderful unique dress, and forlornly scrubbed it as clean as she could under the flowing water.
Close to tears she inspected it. It would need professional tending.
Velveteen and sewers were probably not a good mixture.
Disconsolate she sat in the pool at the base of her waterspout, her dress in her lap, and looked over at Talion.
Still scrubbing himself down, she leaned back on her elbows to watch.
The day might as well have a good finish, she decided. |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 13 Oct 2006 09:23 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
The trouble with Port Royale
Featuring The Butcher, The Ranger and Fictrix
So, this is what it had come to.
She entered her room under a magic of invisibility. This was no spell awaiting dispelling, nor had she been doing anything covert.
This was her reward for trying to help the residents of the port, hiding herself away to avoid the sniping, the petty remarks and insults that assailed her ears whenever she was seen in public.
Some reward.
She crossed the floor and opened her storage chest.
Laying on the top, wrapped in an oiled cloth, now useless, the massive greatsword she had become so adept with.
She removed it, laid it upon her bed, caring little of the stains it left on the bedsheets.
The next thing she saw in the chest was another bundle of oiled rags, much longer even than the greatsword.
With great reverence she took out this second bundle and placed it on the bed next to the first.
She removed from its fastening on her belt the longsword she had been using more recently, still in its scabbard and laid that also on the bed.
Taking hold of the longest bundle of oiled cloths she began the process of carefully unwrapping it.
The cloth spread out revealing the contents.
Two double bladed swords, crafted for her by Talion, one of iron, the other a much lighter one of mithril.
It was time.
Since her rebirth she had known changes were going to have to happen, this was to be the last, she hoped.
The double bladed sword was the favoured weapon of the followers of the Lady. She had decided to begin training with it not out of a sense of obedience, but because her convictions were deep, and more than anything she wanted the Lady to see she was committed to her new role, her new life, completely.
She carefully laid the longsword she had been using onto the oiled cloth, wrapped it with as much tenderness as a mother would her newborn.
She laid it into the chest, then the massive bundle containing the greatsword atop it.
She had invested a lot of time and effort into perfecting her skills with the greatsword, and her hand left it with some reluctance.
She closed the lid of the chest, noticed her magic of invisibility was beginning to wear off.
With a smile she crossed to the mirror.
Almost an hour later she moved away from the mirror, finally satisfied with her appearance.
Her hair had flatly refused to do as she wanted, possibly the result of a magic of lightning that had been cast upon her, so she opted for her second favourite style which saw it hanging almost to her eyes.
Her wonderful dress, and its matching cloak, were still showing small signs of the events of the day before, but she was sure that with a few more washes and a little loving attention it would soon be restored to its former glory. She hoped against hope that the smell would disappear too. It probably would, it had faded a lot already.
Having dressed herself she now had the enviable task of contriving a means of transporting the two huge swords about with her until she decided which she preferred.
Talion had advised her to use the iron blade, but the lightness of the mithril suited her.
Neither sword sat in her hand naturally.
Feeling under her bed she pulled out a leather harness, a strange affair crafted for her by her adoptive father when she had lived in M'Gok Tukar. Originally designed to hold the enormous axe she had been bought up to use, she thought it could be adapted to suit her purposes again.
Being of average female stature a conventional harness would have left the axe, and now the double bladed sword, dragging on the ground behind her, so her one-time father had devised this ingenious system that saw the weapon hung not centrally, as was the norm, but to one side, upside down and crossways, and released for use very quickly by drawing it upwards from her thigh whereupon the quick release strap would relinquish its hold on the other end allowing it to swing free. The downside of this system was that unless the weapon was installed in its designated place before the harness was worn, then getting it back in was a two person task. However, getting it out was the important part, and for this it worked flawlessly.
Her skills at working leather were second to none, and very soon she had devised a new quick release, and a more comfortable position for the harness to hang, not having the huge axe-head to be taken into account.
No matter what she tried, the sword still needed to be in place before the harness was worn. She resigned herself to the fact with no little chagrine.
She wondered if Talion could be pursuaded to create a new type of sword for her, a hybrid, a two bladed sword with a lockable hinge in the centre of the handle which she could collapse down and wear in a conventional scabbard. She would speak with him about it, see if such a thing were possible.
The mithril sword secured, she pulled the harness up her arm to rest on her shoulder, then taking the two straps she secured it tightly around her chest. With much care not to tear it she then fastened her cloak over the top. The sword and the harness were easily visible still, but less threatening.
Once again to the mirror, a tuck here, a pull there, and her dress hung on her perfectly.
Checking herself from every angle she decided she looked good, very good. Edible.
As she made the last fastenings to the harness, the ones that held it crosswise on her back, she idly wondered which lucky male she would favour with her attentions today. Flirting outrageously was becoming easier and easier the more she did it, and it yeilded results.
But before she could begin to enjoy herself she had a patrol to do at the volcano.
Patrols were tedious affairs, but she never complained. Her debt to the Lady would take an eternity to repay, she served however she could.
On her way out she took one last look at herself in the mirror, patted her backside and winked at her reflection simultaneously blowing it a kiss. Then with a flourish she closed the door, cast a magic of invisibility on herself and was on her way.
She exited the tavern, glanced around, everything seemed back to normal, or as near normal as Port Royale ever got.
Her need for invisibility had come about the previous day.
She had entered port, her mood was light, and had come upon Alis and Bel standing near to Garierts stall looking pensive.
Nadia had stopped to ask what was wrong, and with some urgency they had called her to their side.
It transpired that Bel had witnessed a bald man with red eyes dropping heads into the trash bin, the one she was standing right next to, so she did as they bade and hurried to them.
The three women stood and looked at the bin for some good while, considering the options.
Nadia initially wanted to notify the authorities, but they agreed the ports agencies were less than prompt and extremely slapdash in most things they attempted.
As Alis pointed out, they could not even rely on their own guards to remain at their posts for a full shift.
Several times the idea of looking inside the bin was mentioned, and each time dismissed. Bel seemed certain the heads had been of demonic appearance, and best left alone.
While they stood there wondering, the elf, Sywyn, approached and they told him what Bel had seen and he became wary at once, casting some protections upon his person.
Nadia concluded that as he was the only man there, apart from Gariert who seemed totally unconcerned at the proximity of the barrel to his stall, that Sywyn should take a look inside.
After much pursuasion and coertion he reluctantly agreed, and moved slowly to the bin.
What happened next was unexpected to say the least.
Upon the lifting of the lid a gout of blood and bones erupted, a noxious green gas appeared and formed a cloud on the cobbles, Sywyn retreated and Gariert fell prone, still concious, but unable to move.
With growing alarm they stood and watched as the cloud grew and moved closer to them, still more blood was gushing out and settling in large puddles.
Destruction of the bin was decided on, and Bel and Sywyn cast some magical missiles upon it, the thing was made better than any of them expected and stoically refused to break.
From that point on things went from bad to worse.
A badly cast fireball ignited the fishseller, and attempts to put her out seemed doomed to failure, she did however survive but was quite vocal about the situation.
Then Alis and Bel got too close, the noxious cloud consumed them both and they fell beside Gariert. Nadia's attempts to drag them out proved fruitless.
Shortly after another elf, Valethrion, happened along, he too got caught up and fell. All who fell remained concious, but unable to move.
Looking at the now 'out of control' mess that was creeping across the market area Nadia decided it was time to do something drastic. The other side of the cloud she could see that Jusin, his ox, and Berens were all inert.
Nadia did not know what the cloud was, but she did know that when she took the form of a huge iron construct most poisons and toxins could not affect her, so she hastily cast the correct magic and transformed herself. Not one of her favourite spell she endured the pain it caused as her body was hardened, stretched and swollen.
Once the transformation was complete she walked into the cloud, for a time she thought she would be alright. She had almost reached the bin, her goal was to carry it outside the port area, when she succumbed, falling with a clang to the ground, her head on the barrel.
Unable to move she could do no more than lay there and pray to the Lady her shape would not revert, she was laying in the very midst of the cloud and the blood. The very thought of what might happen to her dress made her shudder, or would have, had she been able to.
Then a new voice, Katya. Nadia could hear her, but facing the way she was could not see her.
Katya and the elf Sywyn spoke for a time, Katya cast some spells of magical dispelling onto the cloud, if it worked at all then it was a minor victory, things where Nadia lay seemed unnaffected.
She heard Katya say something about praying to the mother, calling a wind to clear the mess. Then for a time all was silent.
Shortly after Katya reappeared, cast the wind. From her voice Nadia assumed it had worked, more casting, slowly the cloud subsided.
Then horror of horrors, Nadia's shape reverted. Unable to move, she lay in the middle of all the blood, in that wonderful dress.
Slowly the wind blew away the cloud, and Nadia could hear Alis voice. Katya had made her stand again. The two healers moved amongst the remaining fallen casting divine magics of healing and reparation.
Nadia felt herself able to move as the two women reached her. She stood quickly, her greatest concern her dress. She looked down, ruined.
Whilst she fretted about her dress the others fretted about the port, and soon enough a man, loud and brash, appeared. He remonstrated with them about the mess, then, unbelievably, he opened the barrel again, twice, releasing more gases which Katya had to remove.
Nadia had by this time wandered off to attend her dress, but was still close enough to overhear what was being said.
Far from being grateful that some citizens had tried, albeit failed, to help, he screamed and shouted about their stupidity.
Nadia decided it was time to leave before she got angry with this jumped up little fool.
She sought sanctuary in the bathroom of the Mask, where she endeavoured to clean up herself and her dress.
No matter how hard she tried, she could not remove the smell, only lessen it.
Later that day she chanced upon a discarded copy of the Tribune, its headlines screamed at her about the events of the day, and referred to herself and her friends as vandals and terrorists.
She discarded the paper, angrily took to the streets of port.
The reaction she got from various traders was to say the least poor. They were both rude and insulting to her.
Everywhere she went she got the same response, some refused to serve her, Jusin denied her passage.
There was nothing for it, she must move about the town as if a ghost, unseen.
She took her trade to the Undercity, it was mildly inconvenient, but she got excellent deals nonetheless.
Now, the day following those events, she was once again walking the town unseen.
But as she was about to leave the port for her daily walk to the volcano she caught a sight of Berens.
Touting his scandal rag she watched him for a few minutes.
Her nostrils flared, she felt her mouth setting in a tight line.
These people did not deserve her help. They were nothing.
She made herself a resolution.
No more skulking around like a criminal, no more would she apply herself to help those who would condemn her.
She walked back into the market area, dispelled her coverings, stood erect with chin held high and proud.
The expected abuse soon came, but she did not turn away, she faced them, one by one by one. Each gaze she met would hold hers for a few self righteous seconds, then their mouths closed, they lowered their eyes.
Never again, she vowed to herself. Never again would she lift a finger to help those who were below contempt.
Port Royale could be attacked by the very denizens of hell, and she would stand and watch.
After all, they had the authorities to deal with things like that.
Didn't they? |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 18 Oct 2006 10:09 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Confrontation
Nadia was bored.
This was her second and final patrol of Fiirhallen this day.
Patrolling was one of those thankless tasks that she performed without complaint, her way of demonstrating her unswerving loyalty to her mistress.
For the thousandth time that day she shifted the weight of the double bladed sword on her shoulder.
Try as she may, the thing just did not feel 'right' to her.
She had spoken to Talion about the possibility of a modified weapon, he had not dismissed the idea out of hand, but had seemed a little dubious about it.
After examining her existing weapons he had deduced her fighting style quickly, and it was decided that if he were to make her the new sword the best material suited to her style was adamantium.
The ore was collected with no small amount of difficulty. ((this adventure will be in another post))
That had been yesterday, and now all Nadia wanted to do was get back to her bed and relax.
She had almost cleared the volcano when movement ahead of her drew her attention.
Running towards her, at what seemed an impossible speed, was a man.
She shouted for him to halt, but he either did not notice her, hidden as she was, or he chose to ignore her.
She set off after him as he quickly ascended the steps up to the vents.
Nadia was fit, extremely fit, but her quickest pace was not enough, the man drew away from her and was soon lost to her sight.
Assuming he had entered the vents she also entered at that point, sure enough the still twitching corpse of a Salamander lay just inside the door, still no sign of her adversary.
She followed the quickest route to the opal veins, as this was probably his goal.
Sure enough, upon entering the chamber she saw him engaged in unarmed combat with the guardians of the opals.
Recently the presence of the guardians had been beefed up, and despite the mans obvious fitness the signs of battle were showing on him in the form of cuts and gashes.
She approached him, ensured he could see her and demanded he stop his actions immediately.
He chose to ignore her, set off after the few remaining guardians that still lived.
Nadia cast a magical holding hand upon him, and he was held at the same moment the final guardian fell dead.
The force with which the flying hand had hit him had clearly winded the man, for he stood there quite stunned.
Nadia approached him with caution, the magic hands were not infallible, she herself had been caught many times and knew it was perfectly possible to continue casting whilst held.
As she got closer a growing horror overcame her.
The man was bald, had red glowing eyes and was wearing a black robe, his appearance was identical in every detail to the one Bel had given of the man she saw dropping demons heads into the barrel in the port.
She demanded he tell her his reasons for being in this place. Still in a state of bewilderment he did not choose to answer.
She told him that she knew he could hear her, and see her, and that once the spell of the hand wore off he was to leave immediately, and that she would personally escort him out.
The spell took an age to wear itself down, she busied herself with her fingernails to pass the time.
Eventually he was free, and stood there looking at her.
She told him he would leave now, and he agreed.
Nadia pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against and approached him.
No sooner had she taken a step than he was off and running again, his pace still of an ungodly nature.
She ran after him, but by the time she reached the passageway he was gone from sight, but which way?
Had he done as instructed, and left, or had he gone deeper?
She decided he had probably gone deeper, so headed in that direction herself.
But the first Salamanders she came across were still very much alive.
Cursing she turned and ran to the exit, to the outside.
Needless to say, by the time she reached the outside he was nowhere to be seen.
Nadia still thought it unlikely he had left, and there was more than one route to the lower levels, she decided to go further down herself and check.
She hurried to the shaft that led deeper, she saw no more dead or wounded guardians.
Reaching the shaft she peered down.
She had come this far, had probably lost the man, so she figured it would not hurt to take a look.
Her nimble hands and feet found the purchase they needed for the descent almost as second nature, and she quickly emerged onto the steps that led down to the crater approach.
Descending the steep steps that led down to the plateau she was aware of some disturbance coming from the entrance to the crater.
There he was, her quarry, engaged in combat with a handful of Salamanders, his previous wounds now seemed to have faded, either healed by the man himself or he had enormous regenerative powers.
This time, she decided, she would not allow him the chance of escape.
She disliked using the flying hands to hold things, it seemed so ungallant, but having seen how fast he moved she cast one upon him, held him fast.
As before the final remaining Salamander fell as the hand struck.
She approached him, repeated her demand that he leave immediately or face the consequences.
Stunned, as before, he did not answer.
Once again she had to wait until such time as the spell wore itself away.
Finally he stood before her unheld.
He asked of her what her name was, she in turn demanded his of him.
He did not give it.
She had tolerated this man long enough, she decided.
"Let me guess", she began, "you got lost on the way out, and ended up down here. That is most unfortunate, for you".
Before the man could answer she unleashed upon him, at point blank range, a storm of energy. She did not hold back, she hit him hard.
He remained standing, he was obviously in some considerable pain, his palor had gone to a deathly white, but the fact remained he still stood.
Nadia had previously felled creatures of massive strength using this same magic. Dragons, hugely powerful constructs, the most powerful of giants, yet this rather inocuous man could withstand it, barely.
He had laughed then, laughed at her.
She prepared a second strike, but he stopped her when he spoke.
He thanked her.
Thanked her for releasing him from some kind of contract that he had with the Lady, Naruth.
Puzzled, all Nadia could do was stare at him.
Then he removed from around his waist a belt, red in colour, and tossed it to the ground at her feet.
"Take that to your High Priestess", he said, "tell her that I am not in Her service any longer".
Nadia, still perplexed, told him he should do it himself, to which he replied he very well might.
Taking advantage of her puzzlement the man turned on his heel and ran off, again at unreal speeds.
For several minutes Nadia stood looking down at the belt at her feet.
She had a horrible feeling she had done something awful.
She left the belt where it lay, and slowly made her way back to the surface.
Whatever she had done, she had done unwittingly, and in the performance of her duties.
She hoped the High Priestess would be understanding.
Somehow she feared that was unlikely.
It was with troubled thoughts that she made her way back to port, to her room.
On arrival at port she barely noticed the abusive shouts she had come to ignore had practically ceased, the people of Port Royale's memories were generally only as long as it took for the next disaster to strike them, or the next scandal.
She entered the tavern, made her way to her room, collapsed onto her bed.
Tired as she undoubtedly was, Nadia slept little and fitfully that night. |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 18 Oct 2006 11:01 AM |
| ((there are opals in that area?)) |
Purpose in life: finding better ways of allowing players to kill themselves. Repeatedly.
--
"...Cause he mixes it with love
And makes the world taste good."
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<@James42> Lawful good isn't in your vocabulary, it's on your menu.
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 18 Oct 2006 11:55 AM |
| ((Yes, there are a number of spots. Juylina often had to toss people out who were there without her permission.)) |
Juylina Komthya | Portrait - Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 20 Oct 2006 02:21 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
A close call
Nadia left Enders tent a few minutes after Talion. On her belt, at her back, hung a new mithril case bound in sharkskin.
Within the case her latest acquisition, the adamantium sword Talion had custom made to her own specifications.
Twin adamantium blades seperated by a mahogony hand grip which itself was clad in mithril.
No more need she carry the thing around unsheathed.
The folding mechanism that made the sword half its normal length meant she could now stow it when it was not needed.
Quite apart from the inconvenience of holding onto it, lugging a drawn weapon about all day was hardly ladylike.
She would inwardly cringe when she caught sight of her reflection in mirrors and windows, and Nadia looked in a lot of mirrors and windows.
Impatient to try the blade she set out in the direction of Kobai.
The new weapon felt alien in her hands, but nothing really sat there as well as her greatsword had done.
Eventually, in time, she was sure she would be as profficeint with two small blades as she had ever been with one huge one.
Her keen eye scanned the expanse of sand seeking her first prey, and alighted upon a small cluster of Krenshaw.
Oh well, she supposed she had to start somewhere, although Krenshaw were not her first choice when it came to a challenge.
Unsuprisingly they fell to her with ease.
She had often wondered to herself if these curious dog-like creatures had ever killed an adventurer, it seemed unlikely.
She cleaned the blades off, and set out for some real challenges.
As she was headed towards Fiirhallen, anyway, she decided that the lizardlike creatures near the Bloodwood could present her with a good opportunity to test the sword properly.
She moved swiftly across the desert, made short work of the spike-spitting manticores and then plunged into the wooded areas the lizards made their home.
She quickly located the lizards, three of them, and engaged them.
Their pathetic attempts to ignite her failed as usual, although she made a mental note that her hair may need some attention after this, but thier teeth were still as sharp, their hides still as impenetrable.
The fight was hard, but eventually she overcame.
The twin blades did their job, it was she who was not performing as well as she might.
Memories of her greatsword slicing the creatures open with ease flooded back to her.
As she wiped the blades clean once more, felt the magics hum and throb in her hands, she recalled to herself the trip she had made with Talion to collect this rarer than rare metal.
As with most adventures it had begun with an idea.
They had met on the Great Plains and discussed her idea for the collapsable sword, and Talion had suggested that her mithril blade was perhaps too light for her style of fighting, it was then he had suggested adamantium.
Nadia's knowledge of weaponry, and metals, was at best sketchy.
Her interest in them was dwarfed by her interest in clothes and getting her hair 'just so' in the mornings. But somehow Talion made both subjects interesting.
Or maybe it was his eyes, he had wonderfully deep eyes, and she loved to look into them.
He said he could try and make her the sword she described.
Both of them having the whole day ahead, and nothing in particular to do, they decided to fetch the adamantium right away. The plains were not so very far from Icy Vale, and the mines for adamantium lay just beyond there.
They set off, stopping briefly in the Vale for a rest and some nourishment, before heading out to the mines.
The journey was fairly uneventful and they decided to move through the dwarven settlement unseen for as much of the way as possible.
Nadia cast upon them both as many protections as she could, finishing up with a magic of hiding.
Both of them were painfully aware that some of the dwarven mages had the ability to use the magic of keen sight, hopefully today they would be in relaxed mood and not too alert to the presence of intruders
Taking great care, and only comminicating in hushed tones with each other when they had to, they made it through the dark expanses undetected and arrived at the opening to the mines.
With no small relief the descended to the lower shafts.
Obviously once they began mining their noise would attract attention.
They decided to remove the many guards and slavemasters now, while they had the advantage of suprise.
Between them the killing was swift and cleanly done, neither one of them took a wound.
Moving slowly they went deeper.
As they neared a good vein Nadia sensed a movement ahead, she caught hold of Talions arm and halted him.
Ahead of them, standing right in front of the vein, was a construct the like of which she had never seen before.
Nadia was unphased by constructs, one of the protections she favoured meant that if a construct managed to hit her, it took massive amounts of damage, while she took little, if any.
As a result she approached this latest challenge with less caution than maybe she should have.
Talion too seemed unworried by the thing, and the two of them charged it.
That was their first mistake, the construct could absorb massive amounts of damage and appeared unhurt, whilst in its turn it waved its massive fists about dealing incredible damage to Nadia's protections, and to herself. Talion was faring little better at her side.
Unable to withstand the pain any longer Nadia broke off the combat, retired a short distance, swallowed the first of what was to be many miracle healing potions, and prepared to cast energy bursts upon the thing.
Talion too was now so badly mauled he also had to break off, to distract the creature from him Nadia unleashed her most harmful energy magic at the thing.
To her suprise, and shock, the thing had some kind of magical aura of protection around it, and her best attempts bounced off.
Now the thing was lumbering her way, she cast upon it a magic that should dispel some, if not all, the creatures defences.
Hurriedly, before the thing reached her, she cast another magic of energy, this too bounced off, and she suddenly found herself in the unenviable position of being within its reach.
As the creatures huge fist slammed into her body with bone crunching power Talion attacked it from its rear.
One more blow from the things huge paws would surely have finished Nadia off, and she noted gratefully, as she reached for another miracle potion, the thing had now turned to meet its new challenge.
Nadia swallowed two potions to be surer of mending herself, then grabbing up her sword again she attacked the creature from its rear.
Once again, Talion was taking a severe beating at the hands of the thing, Nadia tried her hardest to make every strike count while the creature was concentrating on him.
Talion broke off, too badly hurt to continue. As he ran a short distance away to attempt a quick heal on himself he called to Nadia to run.
She truly wished she could, but cornered as she was, all she could do was stare in horror as the thing turned slowly around to concentrate its attention once more on her.
Again and again she felt those huge hands smashing into her, she folded under each blow and she recieved serious wounding to most her body.
In a desperate attempt to cling to life she swallowed one miracle potion after another.
To little avail.
The potions were potent, for a brief second her body would respond to them, then the huge fist would find her once more and any benefit she had enjoyed evaporated as quickly as it had come.
She could not see Talion, but was certain he was still with her somewhere in the blackness.
As she downed her twelvth potion, in almost as many seconds, the thing relented its attack. It turned slowly again.
Obviously the unseen Talion was attacking from that side.
Battered, bruised and bleeding badly Nadia clutched her sword from the ground where it had fallen again.
She dragged herself over to the thing which had now moved away from her. She had no stomach to fight this thing further.
As far from the creature as she was, but in the opposite direction, Talion had a bow, or slingshot out and was striking it from moderate safety.
Nadia noted however that it would soon be upon him unless he moved away.
She stumbled after it, had to divert it, if only briefly.
Just as she reached it the creature lurched, toppled, and with the sound of a thousand tower shields falling over, it crashed to earth.
Unbelieving she just stood and stared, first at the creature, then at Talion.
She downed another potion, she could not be certain the thing was lifeless or not.
Talion busied himself with bandage and salve.
Both of them would happily have left that awful place at that moment, but they had come here with a goal in mind, the only obstacle to that goal now lay inert and harmless, the vein should be mined if only to make this ordeal worthwhile.
Talion bent his bruised body to his bag and retrieved his miners picks.
With a hidden reserve of strength Talion set to mining while Nadia stood watch.
She took the opportunity to use some bandages on her more serious wounds.
She lightly touched her face, felt the swellings. Her hand went to the small compact mirror she always had about herself. She snapped it open, fragments of mirrored glass tinkled out and fell to the floor of the cave.
She snapped the now useless item closed and without thinking placed it back in her pocket.
About ten minutes later Talion said he had gathered sufficient ore to be certain of a successful attempt at making the sword.
The two of them prepared to leave.
Nadia cast fresh protections upon them both and they made their slow progress to the exit passage.
Unbeknownst to the pair they must have been spotted whilst Talion mined.
Upon rounding a corner they came face to face with a party of dwarven warriors, accompanied by two more of the constructs.
In a vain attempt to do something, anything, Nadia cast an energy storm upon them.
She took some pleasure in seeing several dwarf's fall, but as before her magics had no effect upon the constructs.
Talion did not shout, in a voice made calm from shock, or resignation, he simply spoke one word, "Run"
And they did, both of them.
They ran towards the dwarves and their constructs, did not stop upon reaching them, ran right past them as fast as their legs could move, towards the shaft that led upwards and to the upper levels.
They did not slow their pace once out of the mines, they ran all the way through the dwarven living areas, ran through the cave system leading back to the pass, the continued to run through the pass.
A raiding party of mountain orcs stood in shocked disbelief as two human forms, covered in blood and grime ran by them. The orcs barely had time to respond before the two of them collapsed through the gates to Icy Vale and safety.
Without a word passing between them they made their way towards the tavern, and rest.
A little later that day, after she had washed herself, tended her wounds and purchased a new mirror, Nadia took stock of her supplies to see what needed replacing.
Bandages were purchased, they were easy.
It was her miracle healing potions. Those were difficult to obtain.
She went to count how many she must order.
Eighteen.
In the space of five minutes she had gone through more miracle healing potions than she had in the previous year.
This sword had better be worth the trouble, she thought to herself.
Now, some days later, and the trip a fading nightmare,as she looked at the finished article she concurred.
Yes, it had been worth it.
((PLEASE SHOW SOME RESTRAINT BEFORE PLACING OOC COMMENTS ON THIS THREAD, Thank you)) |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 28 Oct 2006 07:18 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
The Priestess and the sister
Nadia opened the mailbox and hefted a large bundle of no little weight inside.
This, her third deposit, was not as good as she would have liked, the previous two having the greater monetary value and rarer items.
That was not to say this haul was poor, she had it evaluated in the Undercity before she deposited it. The traders had quoted her three hundred and twenty four thousand coins, not as much as the first deposit, and much less than the second.
She would have to try harder tomorrow.
She wondered what he made of these mystery gifts. Had he any idea who was leaving them? Did he consider why they were being left, or did he just assume he was born lucky and accept them as his given fate? She suspected the latter. He was a man of low expectations and an opportunist.
She closed the box quietly. Keen ears were close by.
She had entered the tavern under a magic of hiding and wanted to leave without attracting any attention.
The Priestess
Immediately after she left the Pearl she made her way to the Broken Mask.
Along the way she met up with Nero, and the two of them finished the short walk together.
Margeret was now speaking to her again, which considering she had a rented room on a long term contract was useful.
As she entered the tavern she was confronted by a large panther and a badly bleeding elf.
Nero, who was in her usual no-nonsense, exuberant mood made straight for the elf and remarked upon his condition.
He, in his turn, attempted to ignore the two of them and concentrate on speaking to his panther, which, in its turn, replied in perfect common.
Nadia barely gave it a second thought, she saw so many strange and inexplicable things every day that a panther that spoke barely even registered as unusual.
Nadia and Nero took a table and enjoyed some relaxed conversation, if anything Nero ever did could be described as relaxed. The girl truly was an energy bomb looking for somewhere to explode.
It was after maybe twenty minutes of this chat, with occasional interuptions by the elf, that Nadia was aware of the outside door being opened, and someone entering.
Her back to the door she did not see who, nor was she bothered enough to look.
What did catch her immediate attention, however, was the voice.
Juylina, priestess of the Lady.
Nadia had never met Juylina, but Dana had.
Immediately she recognised the voice Nadia leapt from her seat, quickly arranged her dress, and hurried over, greeting the priestess with a curtsie.
Juylina caught slightly off - guard by the approach of someone she had never met was overwhelmed and delighted at the respect shown her station.
She enquired of Nadia who she was, and upon being told, at once knew who it was before her.
She apologised for her tardiness in making Nadia's acquaintance, citing a busy schedule in Fiirhallen.
Nadia was shocked for some moments to discover she was several inches taller than her superior. In an attempt to compensate she adopted a slightly head bowed attitude which was more than a little awkward to maintain.
Juylina suggested they find a table and get to know each other a bit better.
Nadia readily complied and allowed the priestess to lead her to a private booth.
Nadia waited whilst Juylina seated herself, then took the place next to her.
Once both women were comfortable Juylina began by asking questions about the people she had dealings with prior to her enforced abscence.
Nadia answered as best she could, although a few of the names were of people she only knew of by reputation.
Most of the questions she managed to give complete and accurate replies to.
Juylina asked her how she spent her time, Nadia did not make mention of her daily patrols in Fiirhallen, assuming the priestess would already assume them to be a part of Nadia's routine.
Juylina suggested to her that she make regular visits to the frost giants enclave when she needed to hone her skills of battle.
Nadia explained that whilst not done daily, she did regularly go and thin the numbers up in the ice fields.
Nero hopped about nearby making hushed remarks to Nadia, which she in turn tried to ignore.
The the elf, and his panther, decided to join in.
For a first meeting with her superior this was not going well, in Nadia's eyes.
Juylina seemed unphased, continuing as if both Nero and the elf did not exist. Obviously she was more used to this kind of behaviour then Nadia was.
Somehow they managed to make it to the end of Juylina's questions, and she expressed a need to leave.
Nadia stood and allowed the priestess room to get from her seat.
Nadia, her head still bowed, bade her a safe journey and curtsied.
She hoped that the priestess's first impression of her had been favourable, and that she had shown the correct etiquette.
As swiftly as she had arrived Juylina was gone, and Nadia resumed her life.
The Sister
A day after her meeting with Juylina she found herself in the Vale.
A successful trip to the realm of the frost giants behind her she was in need of rest and sustanace.
The cold nipped at her flesh as the last of her protections wore themselves out.
She was glad she was almost there, the Icy Vale Inn.
With no small regret she shoved the tavern door open and entered.
The warmth was welcome after the sub zero temperatures outside.
Looking down at herself she noted with some annoyance the dress would need yet another wash.
Blood, not hers, was caked into the material, staining it black.
Taking out her compact she quickly examined herself before entering the main bar-room.
A quick flick of the hair, a couple of bloodspots removed from her cheek with a wetted finger, and she was presentable.
She opened the inner door and strode confidentaly into the bar-room.
Inside were four persons, the barkeep, Mr Miggens, Valethrion and Bel.
Valethrion and Bel both acknowledged her entry and she greeted them accordingly.
Valethrion and Bel were talking in hushed tones, Nadia got herself a drink and sat far enough away as not to intrude on them.
She had no interest in whatever it was they were discussing, and she just wanted to sit quietly and relive her trip.
It was some minutes later a strange thing happened.
Nadia was aware of the door behind her opening, then of Bel casting a spell of hiding.
Looking around quickly she saw in the doorway the girl Sulanna, who previously Nadia held in low respect due to her friendship with the failed priestess Alyssa.
Looking the other way she saw Bel standing at the bar, and Valethrion was gone, made invisible, she assumed, by Bel.
From the look on Sulanna's face it was clear she was perfectly aware of whatever it was that had just occured.
Nadia was not entirely sure of the relationship between these two. She assumed they were a couple, and things she had observed, things Valethrion had said, led her to believe all was not well between them.
Sulanna was looking at Nadia, obviously expecting a barbed taunt. It never came.
Instead Nadia moved across the bar and quickly cast a magic of keen sight onto Sulanna, enabling her to see where Valethrion was. But he had already been hurried from the room by Bel on the pretence of putting the cat outside.
Sulanna seemed both unconcerned at Valethrion's hurried departure, and bemused at Nadia's intervention.
Nadia retook her seat and bade Sulanna to join her. Again, bemused, Sulanna accepted.
The reason for this sudden change in Nadia, it seemed, was not known to Sulanna. Although, by rights, she should have, its source having just hurried invisibly from the tavern
Where she had expected venom there was none, instead a hand of friendship was being extended, albiet cautiously.
It had been some days previous that Valethrion and Nadia were having one of their rare and awkward conversations.
The two of them tolerated each other, rather than liked.
Valethrion had indicated to her that he was concerned about Sulanna's wellbeing, but he had not gone into details.
Somewhere during this talk Nadia had revealed to Valethrion that there was a name given to those of her kind. Brimscale Naruthians.
All bloodmages were related to the great dragon Brimscale, some chose to accept their heritage, others did not. The ones who accepted their bloodline were followers of the Goddess Naruth and were known as Brimscale Naruthians, those that did not followed other, lesser, gods.
Valethrion had not shown suprise at this title, saying he had heard it used before, by Sulanna.
Sulanna, it transpired, was also a Brimscale Naruthian, although Nadia had always laboured under the impression she was not a follower of the Lady.
Whether Nadia liked it or not, she and Sulanna were related.
From the moment Valethrion had revealed this to her she had resolved to try and build bridges between the two of them, whatever their differences she was sure they would overcome.
And now that moment had arrived. She had made the first move, she was satisfied she had done the correct thing.
Nadia was determined to make good on this beginning.
She complimented Sulanna on her dress, which was in all honesty a fabulous thing if a little drab in the choice of colour.
The two of them talked happily about clothes, and men, two topics close to the heart of any Naruthian, until Bel returned.
After that Sulanna seemed to wish to speak only to the masked gnome, and whilst she was not rude to Nadia she was dismissive.
Sulanna was asking Bel about Valethrion, and where he had gone.
Nadia sensed she had no part in this conversation, nothing to offer, she quietly made her excuses and left them to it.
As she walked towards the gates of Icy Vale she relived the last few minutes.
She was satisfied that she had acted correctly, and that the foundations had been laid for something to be built upon.
Quite what would be built upon them, was now in the hands of Sulanna.
((PLEASE SHOW SOME RESTRAINT BEFORE PLACING OOC COMMENTS ON THIS THREAD, Thank you)) |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 01 Nov 2006 03:41 AM |
((disclaimer, as with all the posts on this thread, this information is known only to those who have been (1) affected by it, and (2) told about it by Nadia herself))
Men, swords and whirlygigs
Nadia opened her bag, took a out a smaller pouch containing many keys.
Hidden at the back was the one the failed priestess Alyssa had given her, with instuctions to return it to the High Priestess Ilyanna.
On their meeting of the week before Nadia had tried to give the key to Juylina, but had been told she could keep it for her own use.
Now she was standing before the only door in the temple she had never opened, she slid the key into the lock, twisted it. The satisfying feeling of the mechanism responding to the key told her that this was the door it fitted.
She grasped the handle and turned it, the door slid smoothly into a floor recess to reveal a long hall with doors leading off on both sides.
She entered, closed the door behind her.
Sheathing her sword into its custom made holder and dispelling her protections she looked around.
The area was sumptuous without being ostentatious. She approved.
Along each wall were several full length mirrors, and Nadia unconciously checked herself in every one of them as she passed.
The door to her left led to a shorter hall, one door only with a letterbox outside marking the room as Juylina's private residence.
She returned to the central hall, entered a room on the opposite wall, a bar room of some luxury, a desk, some cushions scattered upon the floor and easy chairs. More mirrors.
To her left as she entered another door, this one leading to a huge dining hall.
Three massive tables stretched the length and width of the floor, many chairs surrounding them.
All along the sides of the area, mirrors, too numerous to count.
At the head of the table a large ornate throne. Nadia surmised this was the seat of the High Priestess herself.
Turning she returned to the bar room.
She helped herself to a drink and flopped wearily into a large armchair.
As she slumped there, in a most unladylike sprawl, her drink resting upon her belly, she reflected on the days leading up to this one. They had been strangely confusing for her.
Men - Shard
Her first thoughts went to the temple itself, and Fiirhallen.
She had increased her patrols here from two a day to four.
The warnings she made in the towns had been having an effect, the defilers of the Lady's realm had been going elsewhere for their treasures, she had been pleased people took her seriously.
However, the previous day she had recieved disturbing news from an informant.
A man had been in port openly bragging to anyone who would listen about how clever he had been by invading the Lady's realm. Boasted of how much gold he would make.
The informant had managed to get the mans name, Shard. And although not as boastful, and possibly not connected to him, the name of a woman, Jo.
Nadia made note of the pairs names, and descriptions. The man would be easy to spot apparently as he chose to wear armour of black and white, the woman had long blonde hair, the remainder of her description was somewhat sketchy.
Nadia's luck had been good that day. The Lady was certainly smiling on her.
She had just gone to her room for the reward money for her informant.
She did not carry such sums about herself these days. Fifty thousand coins rattling on your belt was bound to attract the wrong sort of attention.
It was an exceedingly generous amount of money to give for information, but she could afford it, and it was of sufficient size to loosen most peoples tongues.
Her informant had been waiting outside in the street, and it was at the moment that Nadia handed the purse over that its recipient suddenly hissed in a low voice that the man was passing them the other side of the square.
Dumping the purse in the informants hands Nadia turned and set off after him. He vanished into the temple, so she waited outside, not willing to cause a fuss in such a place.
He returned outside shortly, and she called him by name, he stopped and made a greeting before asking her what name she went under.
She told him her name, and who she was.
Never one for beating around the bush she launched into her reason for stopping him, and was about to deliver a warning for him to desist with his activities in the Lady's realm when he made a dismissive reply and walked away.
Nadia's temper, and short fuse, were well known to many, but obviously not this man.
Anger swept over her. She refused to run after him, choosing instead to stop him with a magic of holding, which did the job just perfectly.
In her own time she sauntered up and delivered her warning to him, telling him that if he returned to defile Her (Naruth's) realm again he would die at her (Nadia's) hands.
Unrepentent, or unbelieving, she knew not which, but his arrogance failed to still his tongue.
His reply was that he would return there whenever he chose.
Nadia reiterated her point, made it perfectly clear to him that should he return and be caught by her he would breathe his last, and that what he sought could be found in other places on Vives.
The arrogant fool swaggered off, full of his own importance.
She watched him, venom in her eyes, until he was out of her sight.
He was typical of all the things she hated in men. It was little wonder she despised them so much.
Egotistical, posturing, and truly believing themselves to be superior, it was time the male of the species saw itself for what it was. Weak and inneffectual, a tool to be used and discarded.
Woman was the power, woman the future.
She hoped she would get to find this louse in the Lady's realm, she would make sure he died slowly and painfully, and she would relish the moment the light of life left his eyes. And afterwards she would enjoy dropping his lifeless corpse, as much use in death as it was in life, into the lava flow.
A movement at her side stirred her from her thoughts, her informant, grinning.
It seemed that at least somebody had enjoyed the show.
It was for this reason she had increased the number of patrols she made to the volcano. Each trip tired her. The walk from port, where she spent a good deal of her time, was long, and the patrol itself was quite wearisome. Every corridor, every room, every door, every chest and cupboard had to be inspected to make sure nothing was amiss. Every trap had to be checked to see if it had been sprung and needed resetting.
Since her confrontation with Shard all seemed well, no visible signs of defilers could she find in either the temple or the vents.
Perhaps his simple male brain had finally begun to work and he had heeded her.
Now she needed to find the woman.
Men - Londo
Earlier the same week Nadia had encountered him, Londo.
He had been the trigger to the confusion that now filled her mind.
On first meeting he had leered over her, mentally undressed her, made remarks with obvious sexual undertones, a typical man.
She did however find it more than slightly amusing, his aversion to what he called 'men in dresses', seemigly unable to grasp the concept of the male robe.
He considered it less than manly to wear anything other than trousers.
Nadia did wonder if perhaps Londo was making too much of his own manliness. If it was not manly it did not exist in the world of Londo.
To think he placed Talion into this category of the effeminate male was beyond humour.
His manner of talking was trying, to say the least, but Nadia found that with a little effort he could be understood quite easily, although others seemed to struggle more than she.
Their first encounter had been one of her least memorable.
He leered and stared, she in her turn reacted with her usual cool aloofness to such situations.
Secretly she enjoyed being looked at in such a fashion, but that was how it would remain, a secret to herself.
It was their second meeting when she saw a different man, he was till lecherous, still making pathetic attempts to suggest she make bed with him, but once the others who had been with them had left, and the two of them were alone, he seemed to soften.
They spoke of many things, he had some dark secret that obviously troubled him greatly, and he was reluctant to dwell on the topic, much less reveal the details.
His absolute determination not to travel to Port Royale was clear, he referred to it as a cesspit. He had left there some ten years previously it emerged, and had returned briefly about a year ago, where his opinion had either been made, or strengthened by what he saw.
For her part she did not press the point, allowing him the room he needed, acknowledging that if he ever revealed whatever it was, to her, it would be in Londo's own time.
Their third meeting had been in the rangers lodge.
Talion was there, struggling to understand even a single word Londo spoke, and frequently asking in hushed tones for a translation.
Alis had been with them for most the day and Londo had subjected her to the same lecherous treatment, although Alis seemed blissfully unaware of the fact.
Nero, on the other hand, seemed almost to encourage him, and barely a minute passed without Londo either making reference to, or openly staring at, Nero's partially exposed body.
The four of them spent a convivial enough day talking.
Talion left them and it was shortly after that Londo made mention of somebody and hastily ran outdoors.
Alis, Nero and Nadia followed close behind, and on arriving outside were confronted with the sight of Londo and a huge panther which he was feeding.
The animal seemed quite feral, not tame at all, and unlike the creatures Nadia had seen with some others, seemed untrustworthy.
Londo told them that the panther had found him, he did not say where, or under what circumstances, but that it did not spend much time with him, preferring to be out by itself. An arrangement that seemed to suit both.
As before, the two found themselves alone after Nero and Alis retired for the night.
For some time they spoke of things general, Londo seeming reluctant to speak much of his past, whilst Nadia revealed bit by bit her well rehearsed, completely fabricated, history.
When they parted that night it was as friends, and Nadia was both perplexed and troubled by the amount of time he occupied her thoughts.
Their fourth and most recent meeting had taken place this same day in the Vale.
Londo was being Londo, seeing Nadia as if for the first time, his eyes lingering longer than was generally considered polite on the exposed parts of her body.
Nadia, for herself, felt far more relaxed than she had done in his presence previously.
Talk began seriously, Londo actually revealed a bit about his early years saying he had wanted to be a poet, a bard, but that his voice was not suitable.
Almost as an aside Nadia asked Londo if he would write her a poem, explaining that nobody had ever written her one before. This seemed to suprise Londo, and he quickly fell to with quill and a paper. The paper being the rear of a music sheet he found laying in the bar.
Upon completion he folded it several times and dropped it into her bag, seemingly abashed.
Instead of taking it out and reading it there in front of him she said she would read it later.
The talk became idle, then serious, then once again idle.
In its more serious moments Londo became impassioned and angered, it seemed, about talk of emotions.
He became agitated when she asked him if he cried at all, stating forcefully that he never cried, it was not a manly thing to do.
Nadia wanted to pursue the topic, but Londo's obvious distress held her in check.
Then, swinging the other way entirely, Londo told her some jokes, and they were actually very funny, and repeatable in polite company. Her laughter was unforced and raucous and Londo seemed delighted to have got from her the reaction he did.
When it came time for Londo to leave she was geniunely saddened.
Hardly had Londo left the room than her hand dipped into her bag and retrieved the poem.
The punctuation and spelling was as she expected, not terribly good, but the style of writing suprised her. It was beautiful. Few scribes could write in such a fashion.
Despite the poor spelling and punctuation the words spoke loudly to her.
Without a doubt the poem was about herself, and the more she read the greater became Londo's esteem.
Something inside the ice queen melted.
Swords and whirlygigs
After she left the Vale, Nadia made a quick trip to the Undercity to make some purchases and sell a few items she had uncovered.
It was a brief visit, she still had another patrol of the volcano to squeeze into the day, she had spent far too much time with Londo.
It was as she dismounted Kusin's oxcart on the great plains that she saw it.
From afar it looked like a pig with wings, and even from this distance she could hear the strange whirring sound it made.
It looked harmless, so she moved closer.
The thing stood about four feet tall and on closer ispection looked more like a beholder with long spindly legs, than a pig. It also seemed to have a pair of inneffectual wings that were never going to lift it more than two feet from the ground.
Whilst she observed the strange things behaviour from a distance she considered safe, from out of the ether appeared Cora.
Nadia had never met Cora, although Dana had on many occasions, she hoped her feigned reactions were convincing.
Cora seemed to be acting the way Cora always did, so she assumed she had passed the test.
The two women stood and watched the curious metal creature hop and jump its way about the plains, it seemed fascinated by the magical lightshow just outside the keep of Gorlath.
They decided that it was probably of gnomish production, a language neither of them spoke or understood.
Then, while they watched, a man in red armour strode up and proudly announced himself as one of Midor's finest, a laughable contradiction in terms as upon hearing the peculiar pops and whirrs the little tin beholder made the fool attempted to communicate with it in similar fashion. Nadia wondered if this was a dream. Two tinclad things whirring popping and squeaking to each other.
If this was indeed Midor's finest the mind boggled at what the others were like. It was no wonder Midor was locked up tight as a drum if this fool was an example of what they hid inside.
The little metal beholder with legs then sprang off towards the forests, the three of them followed. Whatever the thing was it certainly had pluck, as upon seeing a group of witches it pounced launching magical lightning and other spells upon them. There seemed to be no stopping it as it hopped and bounced around attacking anything that moved.
Cora pointed out, quite logically, that it was strange the thing attacked the things they themselves considered evil, but somehow it felt no compunction to attack them.
It bounded through the mountain ranges, and thence on to the coast, the three still in tow.
Upon reaching a cliff the thing looked up with its single eye and seemed to be seeking aid climbing a rope.
The Midoran clown chose to wear it upon his head, and climbed the rope with it there. If he had not made himself look foolish prior to this he certainly achieved it by this action.
Nadia and Cora followed after them, arriving at a clifftop.
The little machine hopped to the edge and seemed to be peering over.
They decided it was probably needing to be down there. Some ships of metal construction, which Nadia had always assumed to be gnomish, lay in the bay.
The knight decided to wear the machine upon his head and make the climb down. After tumbling and almost killing himself twice, and the metal creation falling to the ground with a crash, Nadia strode over, snatched the thing from him, and using a magic of jumping carried it to the base of the cliff.
She took it over to the metal ships, where it seemed to get quite agitated and excited.
But it was not the things goal, it hopped and bounced over to the cliff base, Cora and Midor's finest had just reached the same point at this time.
The little metal beholder stared intently into a pool at the cliff base.
As they stared into the water, at the point the thing was looking, a darker area began to show itself, an underwater cave, and it wanted to get there.
Cora leaped in to the pool, swam down and returned a minute later saying a cave lay behind the cliff.
The three of them, and the metal thing jumped into the chilly waters. The swim was mercifully short, Nadia not being a strong swimmer herself.
Somehow Midor's finest, in full armour, made it through.
Beyond was a dock, standing at the end was what appeared to be some undead thing, ghostly pale and thin wearing a long black robe.
Closer examination showed it to be some kind of machine.
Nadia addressed it, not really expecting an answer, so when it came it was even more suprising.
The metal person offered them passage to a place called Tockticken.
The look the three people exchanged showed none of them had heard of the place before, but the metal thing was keen to board the boat.
They bought passage and boarded.
A short boatride later and they arrived on a shoreline.
The little metal creature scampered off to a big set of doors, a pair of massive golems stood either side, and upon a series of whirrs and clicks from their metallic friend the golems moved to open the door.
((I will leave out details of the gnomish city to avoid spoiling it for others when they get there))
Nadia spotted a woman with a stall. The stall looked the same as many others to be found in Vives with a mixed bag of the types of stock sold, weapons and clothes dominated the display.
Nadia was unimpressed, until she passed closer.
She took a closer look, her heart beat faster in her breast.
The weaponry was amongst the finest she had ever seen, swords, hammers and maces so heavily enchanted she had never dared to hope to see.
The price tags were pretty amazing too, but Nadia's eye lit upon a sword she knew she had to have, a bargain at a shaving under three hundred thousand coins.
Opening her purse she realised she was a considerable amount short of the asking price.
She begged the woman not to sell the sword in her abscence, then casting upon herself a magic of speed she ran, swam, ran, rode, ran, sailed and ran back to port, snatched all her savings and made the return journey in even quicker time.
Breathless, sweating like a donkey, legs almost collapsing under her, she shoved the gold across the counter to the woman.
The sword was handed to her in slow motion, she was sure.
Leaning over the counter she snatched it from the suprised woman and danced around gleefully, the sword above her head.
A sword of legend was hers.
Now, as she sat here in the Fiirhallen parlour, her drink still poised upon her belly, the sword of legends at her feet, her hair in disarray, she was fit only to think.
Her body ached from the excercise of the day, her patrol had been less thorough than usual, but she was satisfied.
More than anything she needed some time to think.
She elected to spend time here, in Fiirhallen, it was comfortable, close to her patrols, and time not spent travelling from port to here could be spent in reflection and thought.
Too much had happened in too short a space of time, Londo was too much in her head, Shard, the defiler, was too much in her head, and the sword, she looked down at it glowing at her feet, that was too much in her head.
Her elbow on the arm of the chair, she cradled her head in her palm, slowly her leaden eyes closed and sleep took her. The drink balanced upon her belly spilled over, the cold liquid running across her warm midriff failed to waken her.
Nadia slept the sleep of the dead, and dreamed the dreams of the angels.
((PLEASE SHOW SOME RESTRAINT BEFORE PLACING OOC COMMENTS ON THIS THREAD, Thank you)) |
Nos laetus epulor is quisnam mos onero nos: Dana's family motto, if she had one
(Translation) We gladly feast on he who will oppress us |
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Re: Nadia's tale
Posted: 01 Nov 2006 10:22 PM |
| ((Wow... quite the man-hater, huh?)) |
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