Yesterday
The priest's name was Angus, she had learned. He was one of the pastors at a church in Leyawiin. Drina's initial plan was simply to take him as close to that city as she could, deposit him where he couldn't possibly be overlooked by a guard patrol, and then return to Coldharbour before anyone could miss her or connect her to the prisoner's disappearance.
The plan immediately started to go awry, though. Smuggling a human priest out of Coldharbour took more time - and bribes, and greasing of palms - than she had expected. By the time she had him safely on the soil of Nirn, it had taken far too long... and too many people would be talking about it. Her own odds of going unnoticed had vastly decreased, and that made her nervous.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
The difficulties didn't end there. Drina had tended Angus's injuries as best she could, and used what little healing magic she had, but he still couldn't move quickly. Humans seemed to heal very slowly, and infection was setting in. Angus couldn't walk far, or fast, and even with him leaning on her, their progress toward an appropriate wayshrine was slow. What Drina had estimated would take hours actually took days, and they needed to stop frequently so he could rest. She managed to lift some clothes for him from a washing line - they were huge on him, but better than nothing - and to forage for enough food to sustain them on their journey. When they stopped to make camp and give him a break from walking, they would huddle together and wrap the blanket around them both, substituting her Daedric body heat for making a fire to avoid attracting notice.
Drina breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached Blackwood - even though it was days later than she had intended. Just another short walk, and they would hit the outskirts of Leyawiin. As soon as they were in range of the guards, Angus was as good as saved, and she could... well, she had no idea what to do next. First things first, she kept telling herself.
They could see Leyawiin Castle off in the distance when the worst trouble of their entire trek had arrived. At first, Drina had assumed it was bandits - a common threat on Nirn, she had been told, and easily dealt with - but superior numbers quickly overwhelmed them. These attackers needed a priest, for some reason, so they weren't likely to do immediate harm to Angus, and they seemed too confused by her presence to initiate violence against her... so it seemed better to go along with it for the time being, and look for an opportune moment to escape.
***
Twenty-four hours later, though, nothing had happened. Drina and Angus still sat in the cave where they'd been left by their captors. There seemed to be some sort of argument going on, but Drina couldn't tell what. So far they hadn't been harmed, or even threatened. They were fed at regular intervals. But no matter how much she shouted at them that the priest was ill and in danger of dying, no healing or medical care was forthcoming.
His fever started to rise again. And Drina started to get very, very worried.
She knelt beside him and took his hand. That gesture had been unfamiliar before she met him, but he seemed to take comfort in it.
"Angus," she said. "I'm not going to leave you here. I promise. But I need to get help. I need to go. But I swear I'll come back."
Angus looked at her with confusion. "Go? How can you...? We're trapped here."
Drina shook her head. "You're trapped here, Angus," she gently corrected him. "I can portal. My portal magic isn't powerful enough to take another person with me, though. So I'm going to go alone - just for a little while. I'm going to find someone who can help, and get them to come rescue you. You're going to have to stay here and wait for me. I promise you, I'll come back. You trust me, don't you?"
"Yes," he said.
***
She did come back. But she didn't come bringing rescue. She came back with blood on her leather armor, and a chipped horn... and a handful of herbs and a weak healing potion.
"I'm sorry," she said. "No one believed me. I tried the guards, and I tried your church, but..."
Drina hadn't been foolish enough to walk up to the church, where she would surely be killed on sight. She'd hidden out of the way, called to a passing priest, tried to explain the situation... and been forced to flee for her life, with the words 'liar' and 'deceiver' ringing in her ears.
"It's alright," Angus said with a weak smile. "I'm... not surprised. Thank you for trying. I know it wasn't an easy trip for you to make. That was very brave."
The potion strengthened him a little. The herbs cooled his fever somewhat. But it wasn't enough. She was starting to fret again about what to do. If rescue didn't come soon... but how could she convince anyone to help? The stark difference in their backgrounds was becoming a problem - anyone would want to help him wouldn't believe her that it was anything but a Daedric trick, and anyone who would voluntarily help a Daedra would be as much of a danger to a priest of Stendarr as doing nothing was. She couldn't quite see her way out of the conundrum.
Instead, she tried to distract them both. "Tell me a story," she said randomly.
Drina had expected some sort of bombastic parable about the wrath of Stendarr - she had just asked to give him something to talk about, not because she expected riveting content - but instead, Angus told her a lovely folktale from his boyhood about an enchanted kwama egg. She was surprised by how pleasant his voice was, when he could talk about something other than immediate survival matters.
"That was nice," she said with a smile. "You must be a very good pastor."
"Thank you," he said, but his face had clouded a little. "I guess I was, but that was before..."
He trailed off, but she knew what he had been about to say. Before Coldharbour. Before what the Xivkyn had done to him.
"That hasn't changed," Drina told him gently.
Angus shook his head. "If you knew..."
"I got the gist. The Xivkyn were talking about it. They tortured you. They figured out that you had taken a vow of celibacy, so they took your virginity. I'm sure they did all of it in the most humiliating and sacrilegious way possible. They didn't ask you anything - they didn't do it for information - they just wanted to make you suffer. They made you beg. They made you curse your god. Do I know enough?"
He didn't answer. His whole body shuddered, and he buried his face against her shoulder. She could feel the wetness of his tears. It was the first time she had seen him cry.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him. "Well, none of that counts against you," she said. "What happens in Coldharbour... it doesn't count against you. It isn't who you are. It wasn't your fault."
He shook his head miserably. "I should have stayed strong. I shouldn't have let them... I was weak. The saints and martyrs all stayed strong. But I couldn't. I gave in. I wasn't strong enough."
"If that's true, then none of the saints and martyrs suffered as you did," Drina said bluntly. "The human body and brain can only take so much. You did the best you could. You did the best anyone could have."
As soon as she had said it, Drina was afraid that she had spoken too freely - that he would see it as blasphemy upon blasphemy, rather than a comfort. But perhaps not; she felt some of the tension in his body relax.
"You really think... that I did alright?" he asked, his voice suddenly thin and vulnerable.
"I do. You still have faith in your god, don't you?"
He paused for a moment, then said quietly, "Yes."
"Then your god must be proud of you. Maybe you're one of those saints after all."
"Maybe you are too."
Drina chuckled lightly at that, and gave his hand a squeeze. "The first Dremora saint. That would be quite something, hm?"
She knew that eventually, she was going to pay dearly for all this. Eventually some human would manage to kill her - and she wouldn't truly die, just return to Oblivion - or Molag Bal and his minions would summon her back to Coldharbour. However it happened, she would eventually end up there. When she did, the retaliation for saving the priest would be swift, brutal, and quite possibly eternal. Even though she dreaded that, she couldn't bring herself to regret what she had done.
Later, as they were eating their evening meal together, Angus said quietly, "Thank you. For everything. I know what you've done for me - and at what cost. I can never repay you for any of this..."
"Yes, you can," Drina said. "When you get back to your church, don't preach that all of us are evil. Don't preach about killing us without mercy. You don't even have to say anything at all, but just... remember this, if you must mention Daedra. Please. That's all I ask, and you owe me nothing else."
"I promise I won't forget," he said. "Never."
Islands on Another World (GW2)
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Nairn Tuckamore and Fira-Nar
She had somewhat reluctantly put away the pages and tucked her reading glasses back into the secret pocket in her jerkin. Taking up her daggers once more, she waded into the fray. It was tight-quarters fighting, which she generally excelled at due to the style of her blades, but she found the cave walls close - the sheer number of people stuffed within them, crushing. At first opportunity, she ducked into an empty corridor, allowing the rest of the party to move past her toward where she presumed the vampires were being kept due to the defences. A cough in the comparable silence alerted her to the presence of others. Turning, she saw no one. Nairn cloaked herself and stalked down the debris-strewn pathway toward some crude cells cut into the stone walls.
There was a woman sitting on the floor, next to a lump of cloth - an injured person, as another cough made the body under the mound shake. Interesting that these prisoners weren't with the others. Perhaps the priest mentioned in the note? She had little way of knowing whether or not the persons inside would be friend or foe, but she reasoned that prisoners of their enemies should be considered friends until proven otherwise. Nairn's form became suddenly visible as she inspected the lock, then pulled a set of lock picks out of her bracers.
"Greetings. It sounds as though you might need a healer. Conveniently, we may know one or two." she spoke softly, her accent distinctly not Nord, despite the way her pale skin soaked up the little light from the sputtering torch on the wall.
"Hey! Are you alright over there?" Fira stood at the opening to the main tunnel, squinting to see what Nairn was up to. She'd yelled and Nairn was not disposed to answer in kind. The Norn simply waved her right hand in a semi-dismissive manner. She hadn't quite gotten over the sleight from earlier where the warrior had suggested that intelligence wasn't as important as having a specific torch in a specific area at all times.
She had somewhat reluctantly put away the pages and tucked her reading glasses back into the secret pocket in her jerkin. Taking up her daggers once more, she waded into the fray. It was tight-quarters fighting, which she generally excelled at due to the style of her blades, but she found the cave walls close - the sheer number of people stuffed within them, crushing. At first opportunity, she ducked into an empty corridor, allowing the rest of the party to move past her toward where she presumed the vampires were being kept due to the defences. A cough in the comparable silence alerted her to the presence of others. Turning, she saw no one. Nairn cloaked herself and stalked down the debris-strewn pathway toward some crude cells cut into the stone walls.
There was a woman sitting on the floor, next to a lump of cloth - an injured person, as another cough made the body under the mound shake. Interesting that these prisoners weren't with the others. Perhaps the priest mentioned in the note? She had little way of knowing whether or not the persons inside would be friend or foe, but she reasoned that prisoners of their enemies should be considered friends until proven otherwise. Nairn's form became suddenly visible as she inspected the lock, then pulled a set of lock picks out of her bracers.
"Greetings. It sounds as though you might need a healer. Conveniently, we may know one or two." she spoke softly, her accent distinctly not Nord, despite the way her pale skin soaked up the little light from the sputtering torch on the wall.
"Hey! Are you alright over there?" Fira stood at the opening to the main tunnel, squinting to see what Nairn was up to. She'd yelled and Nairn was not disposed to answer in kind. The Norn simply waved her right hand in a semi-dismissive manner. She hadn't quite gotten over the sleight from earlier where the warrior had suggested that intelligence wasn't as important as having a specific torch in a specific area at all times.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 713
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Drina and Angus
Drina's mouth went dry. Her failed attempts at securing help echoed in her head. She couldn't fail again. She had to convince this woman. There would be no next opportunity; it was now or never.
"Please," she said. "This man was badly injured. His wounds are infected. He needs healing as quickly as possible."
She reached into a hidden pocket, and produced the holy symbol she had removed to spare Angus's neck back in Coldharbour. She held it suspended by the chain so it caught the dim light and the stranger could see it.
"See? He's a priest. He is favored by the Divines, who will surely bless any who assist in his time of need. I beg you to help him. No matter what you may think of his present company, none of this was his choice, and he doesn't deserve to die."
Her hand instinctively drifted toward Angus's to offer him another reassuring squeeze, but she stopped herself. The last thing he needed now was to look even more associated with her. If she could just get him out of here alive and to a healer, he wouldn't need that sort of thing from her anymore. They were so close...
From back in the cave, another voice called, "Do you need me?" Drina had no way of knowing who it was, but Nairn would recognize it as Tempest offering healing.
Drina's mouth went dry. Her failed attempts at securing help echoed in her head. She couldn't fail again. She had to convince this woman. There would be no next opportunity; it was now or never.
"Please," she said. "This man was badly injured. His wounds are infected. He needs healing as quickly as possible."
She reached into a hidden pocket, and produced the holy symbol she had removed to spare Angus's neck back in Coldharbour. She held it suspended by the chain so it caught the dim light and the stranger could see it.
"See? He's a priest. He is favored by the Divines, who will surely bless any who assist in his time of need. I beg you to help him. No matter what you may think of his present company, none of this was his choice, and he doesn't deserve to die."
Her hand instinctively drifted toward Angus's to offer him another reassuring squeeze, but she stopped herself. The last thing he needed now was to look even more associated with her. If she could just get him out of here alive and to a healer, he wouldn't need that sort of thing from her anymore. They were so close...
From back in the cave, another voice called, "Do you need me?" Drina had no way of knowing who it was, but Nairn would recognize it as Tempest offering healing.
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Nairn Tuckamore and Fira-Nar
The Norn watched the horned woman with some interest as her hands worked the picks. Her eyes flicked to the symbol long enough for her to ascertain its shape, then returned her attentions to the one holding it. She had seen a few picture of horned people illustrated in some of the books she'd read, but seeing one in person? Questions rose to mind, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Fira next to her.
"A dremora?! Leave it locked! Or better yet, open it up so I can send her back to Coldharbour." The argonian hissed, brandishing her blade.
Nairn stopped picking the lock, placed her hand over the keyhole, and slowly turned to face Fira. "Why are you so quick to declare a foe? The priest is also inside. I will not open this door until you move away." she paused, then added, "And tell Tempest I do need her here."
"You...if you remembered half of what you read you would know that the dremora are servants of Molag Bal, arguably the most vicious daedric prince in existence! The faster we get them off this plane, the better! And I'm not. your. messenger. Now step aside and let me deal with this or so help me, I'll go through you!"
The Norn had bristled with the first comment and by the time Fira moved to point her weapon at her, Nairn was incensed. Teeth audibly popping as she ground her jaw, she took a steadying breath and met the dremora's eye. "I will be right back. Don't worry."
She wanted to finish with 'the other one won't be coming back with me', but that would have tipped her hand. Whirling around, she ducked under Fira's axe and came up inside the argonian's reach to place a hand on her chest. In a second, the two vanished in a puff of smoke.
A clearly irritated norn and a very angry argonian appeared next to Tempest and upon arrival it was not clear whether the Norn pushed the lizardine warrior away or if the latter had stepped back to get into a better arms position. Nairn immediately turned to Tempest and stretched out her hand.
"Come with me. The priest is badly injured."
If Tempest took it, she would immediately return shadow port back to the cell, which was already unlocked.
"Don't!" yelled Fira, now adjusted to their new location, clearly intended to make sure Nairn didn't do what she thought she might. "There's a dremora in there! Take some back up with half a brain!"
The Norn watched the horned woman with some interest as her hands worked the picks. Her eyes flicked to the symbol long enough for her to ascertain its shape, then returned her attentions to the one holding it. She had seen a few picture of horned people illustrated in some of the books she'd read, but seeing one in person? Questions rose to mind, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Fira next to her.
"A dremora?! Leave it locked! Or better yet, open it up so I can send her back to Coldharbour." The argonian hissed, brandishing her blade.
Nairn stopped picking the lock, placed her hand over the keyhole, and slowly turned to face Fira. "Why are you so quick to declare a foe? The priest is also inside. I will not open this door until you move away." she paused, then added, "And tell Tempest I do need her here."
"You...if you remembered half of what you read you would know that the dremora are servants of Molag Bal, arguably the most vicious daedric prince in existence! The faster we get them off this plane, the better! And I'm not. your. messenger. Now step aside and let me deal with this or so help me, I'll go through you!"
The Norn had bristled with the first comment and by the time Fira moved to point her weapon at her, Nairn was incensed. Teeth audibly popping as she ground her jaw, she took a steadying breath and met the dremora's eye. "I will be right back. Don't worry."
She wanted to finish with 'the other one won't be coming back with me', but that would have tipped her hand. Whirling around, she ducked under Fira's axe and came up inside the argonian's reach to place a hand on her chest. In a second, the two vanished in a puff of smoke.
A clearly irritated norn and a very angry argonian appeared next to Tempest and upon arrival it was not clear whether the Norn pushed the lizardine warrior away or if the latter had stepped back to get into a better arms position. Nairn immediately turned to Tempest and stretched out her hand.
"Come with me. The priest is badly injured."
If Tempest took it, she would immediately return shadow port back to the cell, which was already unlocked.
"Don't!" yelled Fira, now adjusted to their new location, clearly intended to make sure Nairn didn't do what she thought she might. "There's a dremora in there! Take some back up with half a brain!"
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 713
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Drina watched in baffled horror as the two people in front of the cell almost came to blows. Mortals were impossible to understand. She was not surprised that the one intended to banish her to Coldharbour - that fate was inevitable - but how was that anyone's priority right now? She continued to watch as the two disappeared, then the first woman reappeared with another. Drina could only hope this was the healer.
But Tempest stood paralyzed in the doorway, staring at her. The word 'dremora' meant nothing to her. But the horned appearance... was this a demon standing in front of her? Such beings might not exist here, but they did back in her world, and Tempest had seen the havoc they created.
This hesitation was too much for Drina, and she finally exploded with anger. "What's the matter with all of you? This man is one of your own! How am I the only one who cares what happens to him?"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Drina cursed herself for her transgression. She held up her hands in a gesture of nonviolence, and backed as far away from Tempest as she could get in the narrow confines of the cell. "I'm sorry..." Drina said.
But Tempest shook her head. "No. You're right. I'm sorry. Of course healing him is our priority."
Tempest knelt beside the priest, and pressed her hand against his chest. To heal him, she first needed to sense the scope of the damage. It was bad, she could tell immediately. She frowned as she examined the energy that ran through his body. She could feel the torn tissue and strained muscles, the damaged organs, every bruise and cut, the infection that had set in and was slowly killing him. But she sensed something else, too. Someone had been caring for him - probably for days. She closed her eyes and perceived the small bursts of healing he had already received, and the herbs keeping his fever at bay. It was fairly evident who was responsible for the priest's continued survival.
After a moment, Tempest opened her eyes and looked at Drina. "I can help him," she said. "But it won't be instant. There's a lot of damage, and I'll have to draw the infection out. He won't feel relief right away. He'll still need comfort. Can you sit with him and hold his hand?"
Drina regarded Tempest briefly, on the alert for some kind of trick - but she realized that Tempest was actually offering an olive branch. Drina nodded and sat beside Angus, making sure she was in Tempest's peripheral vision to avoid any chance of startling her with an unexpected movement. Then she took Angus's hand, and waited while the healer went to work.
Cullen had followed his wife, and for a moment he too looked absolutely alarmed. But when he saw that the scene was peaceful, he just shrugged and went to stand by Tempest, just in case.
Anakita turned to Fira and said with a fake casual tone that was clearly absolutely put on, "You know, there are herbs you can dry and smoke that are very calming." Following the script she had planned in her head, she skipped ahead and just answered the inevitable question as if it had actually been asked, waving her hand in a theatrically dismissive gesture. "Oh, no reason."
But Tempest stood paralyzed in the doorway, staring at her. The word 'dremora' meant nothing to her. But the horned appearance... was this a demon standing in front of her? Such beings might not exist here, but they did back in her world, and Tempest had seen the havoc they created.
This hesitation was too much for Drina, and she finally exploded with anger. "What's the matter with all of you? This man is one of your own! How am I the only one who cares what happens to him?"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Drina cursed herself for her transgression. She held up her hands in a gesture of nonviolence, and backed as far away from Tempest as she could get in the narrow confines of the cell. "I'm sorry..." Drina said.
But Tempest shook her head. "No. You're right. I'm sorry. Of course healing him is our priority."
Tempest knelt beside the priest, and pressed her hand against his chest. To heal him, she first needed to sense the scope of the damage. It was bad, she could tell immediately. She frowned as she examined the energy that ran through his body. She could feel the torn tissue and strained muscles, the damaged organs, every bruise and cut, the infection that had set in and was slowly killing him. But she sensed something else, too. Someone had been caring for him - probably for days. She closed her eyes and perceived the small bursts of healing he had already received, and the herbs keeping his fever at bay. It was fairly evident who was responsible for the priest's continued survival.
After a moment, Tempest opened her eyes and looked at Drina. "I can help him," she said. "But it won't be instant. There's a lot of damage, and I'll have to draw the infection out. He won't feel relief right away. He'll still need comfort. Can you sit with him and hold his hand?"
Drina regarded Tempest briefly, on the alert for some kind of trick - but she realized that Tempest was actually offering an olive branch. Drina nodded and sat beside Angus, making sure she was in Tempest's peripheral vision to avoid any chance of startling her with an unexpected movement. Then she took Angus's hand, and waited while the healer went to work.
Cullen had followed his wife, and for a moment he too looked absolutely alarmed. But when he saw that the scene was peaceful, he just shrugged and went to stand by Tempest, just in case.
Anakita turned to Fira and said with a fake casual tone that was clearly absolutely put on, "You know, there are herbs you can dry and smoke that are very calming." Following the script she had planned in her head, she skipped ahead and just answered the inevitable question as if it had actually been asked, waving her hand in a theatrically dismissive gesture. "Oh, no reason."
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Nairn Tuckamore
She had taken in the scene with no emotional response on her part. Nairn did not enter the cell herself, but hunched down, hugging her knees while staring at each one of them in turn. The man was in rough clothes which weren't torn so much as to warrant the healing Tempest said he needed. The clothes had come after, then. The woman, now quiet, was holding the priest's hand as suggested. Nairn's eyes flickered over the woman's skin and face before they rested decidedly on the horns.
"Do they just...grow? Do you have to polish them? They are handsome."
The norn was completely in earnest. A child-like wonder had replaced the impassive mien bringing a bit of colour to her otherwise pale visage.
Fira-Nar
She had fully intended to return to the cell on foot, but Anakita's comment completely knocked her off balance.
"What?" She asked, the pure confusion in her voice at odds with her weapon held at ready. Anakita's reply made equally as little sense, forcing the argonian to stop all former thought processes to chase this one down.
"Ah." If she had been capable of blushing, she might have, but the lizardine woman was definitely capable of looking sheepish. Fira sheathed her weapon, then regained some of her battle fire. "You know, your friend should be more careful. The next dremora she meets might not be in a cage and then she'll wish she were quicker on the blade."
She had taken in the scene with no emotional response on her part. Nairn did not enter the cell herself, but hunched down, hugging her knees while staring at each one of them in turn. The man was in rough clothes which weren't torn so much as to warrant the healing Tempest said he needed. The clothes had come after, then. The woman, now quiet, was holding the priest's hand as suggested. Nairn's eyes flickered over the woman's skin and face before they rested decidedly on the horns.
"Do they just...grow? Do you have to polish them? They are handsome."
The norn was completely in earnest. A child-like wonder had replaced the impassive mien bringing a bit of colour to her otherwise pale visage.
Fira-Nar
She had fully intended to return to the cell on foot, but Anakita's comment completely knocked her off balance.
"What?" She asked, the pure confusion in her voice at odds with her weapon held at ready. Anakita's reply made equally as little sense, forcing the argonian to stop all former thought processes to chase this one down.
"Ah." If she had been capable of blushing, she might have, but the lizardine woman was definitely capable of looking sheepish. Fira sheathed her weapon, then regained some of her battle fire. "You know, your friend should be more careful. The next dremora she meets might not be in a cage and then she'll wish she were quicker on the blade."
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 713
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Drina knew she should just leave. It was only a matter of time before one of them planted a blade in her skull while she was distracted, and she woke up back in Coldharbour - with all that would entail. The longer she stayed, the worse her odds got.
She told herself that Angus didn't really need her here. He was probably beyond knowing or caring who was holding his hand - or if not, he very well might prefer mortal company to hers anyway.
But somehow, she couldn't quite bring herself to portal away.
The one slightly sensible reason she could give for that was that until Angus was fully healed, she couldn't be sure. The healer might get distracted, or the strangers might change their minds. Drina needed to stay and make sure the job got done.
After that...
Cautiously, she admitted to herself that she was also staying because she wanted to. She genuinely liked Angus. He was a kind man, and he told good stories. She enjoyed his company.
Of course, she knew that company was time-limited. This couldn't be a permanent friendship. Once he returned to his church and took up his duties to Stendarr, they could never see each other again. Such a thing would be too costly to him, and too dangerous for her. A priest could not have a Daedra friend; it was impossible.
As long as she remembered that, she could take the risk of staying a little longer.
When Nairn complimented her horns, Drina was surprised, but the smile she gave the scholar was entirely genuine. Dremora were, as a rule, very proud of their horns, and Drina was no exception.
"Thank you!" she said with a pleased little grin that suggested if she were human, she would have blushed. "They just grow that way. I don't do anything special to them." Modesty compelled her to add ruefully, "One of them got a chip."
"One of our daughters has horns," Tempest commented idly as she continued to work on healing Angus. "Cullen and I have a large family, but only our oldest two children joined us on this trip. I'll show you a picture of us all sometime. It was really inexcusable for me to be startled by your horns. I'm so sorry."
Drina shook her head. "It wasn't. It's not inexcusable. You were right to be cautious. I was just worried because Angus was in such bad shape, but - you have to keep being cautious like that. Not all Dremora are a danger to you, but many are. Our loyalties are complicated, and most serve one of the Daedric princes... which can be bad for the mortals. It's fine to be careful. Thank you for healing him despite that."
***
"Whoa there, Killer," Anna said jovially to Fira. "I guess you didn't notice, but they're not in a cage anymore."
Anakita gestured toward the cell door, which was now open, but no one had left. Tempest was healing the priest, while the Dremora held his hand and Nairn and Cullen sat nearby.
"I don't exactly see a bloodbath. Do you?"
The Ranger stayed slightly in Fira's potential path, just in case the Argonian decided to start the bloodbath she seemed to be missing out on.
She told herself that Angus didn't really need her here. He was probably beyond knowing or caring who was holding his hand - or if not, he very well might prefer mortal company to hers anyway.
But somehow, she couldn't quite bring herself to portal away.
The one slightly sensible reason she could give for that was that until Angus was fully healed, she couldn't be sure. The healer might get distracted, or the strangers might change their minds. Drina needed to stay and make sure the job got done.
After that...
Cautiously, she admitted to herself that she was also staying because she wanted to. She genuinely liked Angus. He was a kind man, and he told good stories. She enjoyed his company.
Of course, she knew that company was time-limited. This couldn't be a permanent friendship. Once he returned to his church and took up his duties to Stendarr, they could never see each other again. Such a thing would be too costly to him, and too dangerous for her. A priest could not have a Daedra friend; it was impossible.
As long as she remembered that, she could take the risk of staying a little longer.
When Nairn complimented her horns, Drina was surprised, but the smile she gave the scholar was entirely genuine. Dremora were, as a rule, very proud of their horns, and Drina was no exception.
"Thank you!" she said with a pleased little grin that suggested if she were human, she would have blushed. "They just grow that way. I don't do anything special to them." Modesty compelled her to add ruefully, "One of them got a chip."
"One of our daughters has horns," Tempest commented idly as she continued to work on healing Angus. "Cullen and I have a large family, but only our oldest two children joined us on this trip. I'll show you a picture of us all sometime. It was really inexcusable for me to be startled by your horns. I'm so sorry."
Drina shook her head. "It wasn't. It's not inexcusable. You were right to be cautious. I was just worried because Angus was in such bad shape, but - you have to keep being cautious like that. Not all Dremora are a danger to you, but many are. Our loyalties are complicated, and most serve one of the Daedric princes... which can be bad for the mortals. It's fine to be careful. Thank you for healing him despite that."
***
"Whoa there, Killer," Anna said jovially to Fira. "I guess you didn't notice, but they're not in a cage anymore."
Anakita gestured toward the cell door, which was now open, but no one had left. Tempest was healing the priest, while the Dremora held his hand and Nairn and Cullen sat nearby.
"I don't exactly see a bloodbath. Do you?"
The Ranger stayed slightly in Fira's potential path, just in case the Argonian decided to start the bloodbath she seemed to be missing out on.
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
Nairn Tuckamore and Fira-Nar
The norn looked for chip once it was mentioned, squinting to see it more clearly in the low light. She was still unwilling to move closer to observe and resigned herself to looking for it after they got out of this cave. Which she hoped happened soon. Ideally someplace with a good light source and a desk. There was so much they didn't know about their series of problems - there had to be more in those papers. The aggressive lizard woman was right. She should know more.
Nairn's attention seemed to be focused on a spot on the floor slightly ahead of her. Her brow knit together, she was clearly no longer paying attention to what was going on around her. There was something nagging at her. The words from the paper came back to her. Abruptly, she looked at Drina.
"Do you know anything about a 'destroyer knife'? Apparently, your priest friend was captured to bind it."
Fira reluctantly agreed that this particular dremora wasn't currently an issue. It didn't mean that she wouldn't be in the future, though. It seemed that these newcomers were inclined to be friendly with it, so for now she'd just have to keep an eye on the dremora and hope she wasn't too late. The argonian folded her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a neutral posture.
"Yeah. For now. So...uh, are all the missing vampires accounted for? Do we have a plan for keeping them out of harm's way until we figure out who signed their death warrants?"
The norn looked for chip once it was mentioned, squinting to see it more clearly in the low light. She was still unwilling to move closer to observe and resigned herself to looking for it after they got out of this cave. Which she hoped happened soon. Ideally someplace with a good light source and a desk. There was so much they didn't know about their series of problems - there had to be more in those papers. The aggressive lizard woman was right. She should know more.
Nairn's attention seemed to be focused on a spot on the floor slightly ahead of her. Her brow knit together, she was clearly no longer paying attention to what was going on around her. There was something nagging at her. The words from the paper came back to her. Abruptly, she looked at Drina.
"Do you know anything about a 'destroyer knife'? Apparently, your priest friend was captured to bind it."
Fira reluctantly agreed that this particular dremora wasn't currently an issue. It didn't mean that she wouldn't be in the future, though. It seemed that these newcomers were inclined to be friendly with it, so for now she'd just have to keep an eye on the dremora and hope she wasn't too late. The argonian folded her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a neutral posture.
"Yeah. For now. So...uh, are all the missing vampires accounted for? Do we have a plan for keeping them out of harm's way until we figure out who signed their death warrants?"
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 713
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
"No, I've never heard of that," Drina replied.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Oh, they were true, of course... but they weren't going to be what these people wanted to hear. They would want her to be useful. If she wasn't, they might decide to move on and leave Angus behind. Was he healed enough to survive now, at least? She wasn't sure.
And then there was the matter of the Argonian who had threatened her. That woman hadn't come back, and Drina wasn't quite sure where she was - maybe about to attack at any time. If Drina ended up in Coldharbour now, Angus would be by himself and might not make it, and it would all have been for nothing. The only way she could win a small victory here would be if Angus made it home alive. They were so close. But there were still obstacles in the way.
Her momentary relief had faded. Once again, she was afraid. She had to find a way to prolong her own life, and save Angus's.
"Uh... it... could be daedric," Drina invented quickly. "Yes, it sounds like a daedric weapon of some sort. Maybe Molag Bal? Or Nocturnal? No, Mephala, probably. Yes. Mephala..."
"I've heard of it," Angus said quietly.
Drina hadn't realized he was even conscious, but apparently what the healer was doing was helping more quickly than Drina had expected.
Angus struggled to sit up to speak; he ended up seated, but leaning heavily on Drina. His voice was ragged, and he had to pause often for breath. But he seemed to have the same idea as Drina - if they were useful, they would stay alive.
"I... heard about it at my church," Angus said. "Some of the older priests... were talking about it. It was just a legend. But they said... it was... it's not a weapon. Not really. They call it a knife because it tears... reality... and severs the veils between our world and what's beyond..."
"Alright," Tempest said, easing Angus back into a prone position. "That's enough for now. If there's anything more you know, you can tell us later, but let me heal you first or you're going to pass out trying to tell the tale."
"Thank you for the healing," Angus told her, and she smiled and nodded in reply.
Drina gave Angus's hand a grateful squeeze, glad for his intelligence and good memory. They seemed to have dodged this particular blow. But there was still the angry Argonian... somewhere. Drina strained her eyes into the darkness trying to find her.
Seeming to misinterpret what Drina was looking for, Tempest said, "Yes, we should get out of here as soon as possible. He's almost stable enough to move. If we can get him to that city nearby, I can heal him more without worrying who will sneak up behind us."
Angus met Drina's eyes briefly, but his expression was unreadable. 'That city' was Leyawiin. His home. Drina couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind. Surely he couldn't wait to be back. But everything would feel different, after what he had been through.
"Don't leave me," he whispered to Drina.
"I won't," she whispered back.
Not for now at least. Surely he knew what he was asking for was impossible, though. The time would come when she would have to leave. She wasn't quite sure where she would go - but it had to be away from him. He couldn't get his life back until the daedra were gone - all of the daedra, including her.
It was odd that that thought made her... sad.
***
Ulga, who had just appeared from deeper in the cave, nodded in response to Fira's question. "All the vampires are accounted for. Unfortunately one didn't make it. We should get the others back to their tribe. Now that they know they're being hunted by these genocidal lunatics, they'll be harder to pick off one by one."
"I asked them some questions," Sellia added. "But they don't know much. Not really surprising - it would be pretty stupid to talk about your nefarious plans in front of your prisoners. They were being held so they could be questioned about the whereabouts of other vampires. They're... uh... feeding on the spare corpses. Then they should be well enough to travel home."
Though they had come to rescue the vampires, it seemed that the real information windfall was this priest.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Oh, they were true, of course... but they weren't going to be what these people wanted to hear. They would want her to be useful. If she wasn't, they might decide to move on and leave Angus behind. Was he healed enough to survive now, at least? She wasn't sure.
And then there was the matter of the Argonian who had threatened her. That woman hadn't come back, and Drina wasn't quite sure where she was - maybe about to attack at any time. If Drina ended up in Coldharbour now, Angus would be by himself and might not make it, and it would all have been for nothing. The only way she could win a small victory here would be if Angus made it home alive. They were so close. But there were still obstacles in the way.
Her momentary relief had faded. Once again, she was afraid. She had to find a way to prolong her own life, and save Angus's.
"Uh... it... could be daedric," Drina invented quickly. "Yes, it sounds like a daedric weapon of some sort. Maybe Molag Bal? Or Nocturnal? No, Mephala, probably. Yes. Mephala..."
"I've heard of it," Angus said quietly.
Drina hadn't realized he was even conscious, but apparently what the healer was doing was helping more quickly than Drina had expected.
Angus struggled to sit up to speak; he ended up seated, but leaning heavily on Drina. His voice was ragged, and he had to pause often for breath. But he seemed to have the same idea as Drina - if they were useful, they would stay alive.
"I... heard about it at my church," Angus said. "Some of the older priests... were talking about it. It was just a legend. But they said... it was... it's not a weapon. Not really. They call it a knife because it tears... reality... and severs the veils between our world and what's beyond..."
"Alright," Tempest said, easing Angus back into a prone position. "That's enough for now. If there's anything more you know, you can tell us later, but let me heal you first or you're going to pass out trying to tell the tale."
"Thank you for the healing," Angus told her, and she smiled and nodded in reply.
Drina gave Angus's hand a grateful squeeze, glad for his intelligence and good memory. They seemed to have dodged this particular blow. But there was still the angry Argonian... somewhere. Drina strained her eyes into the darkness trying to find her.
Seeming to misinterpret what Drina was looking for, Tempest said, "Yes, we should get out of here as soon as possible. He's almost stable enough to move. If we can get him to that city nearby, I can heal him more without worrying who will sneak up behind us."
Angus met Drina's eyes briefly, but his expression was unreadable. 'That city' was Leyawiin. His home. Drina couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind. Surely he couldn't wait to be back. But everything would feel different, after what he had been through.
"Don't leave me," he whispered to Drina.
"I won't," she whispered back.
Not for now at least. Surely he knew what he was asking for was impossible, though. The time would come when she would have to leave. She wasn't quite sure where she would go - but it had to be away from him. He couldn't get his life back until the daedra were gone - all of the daedra, including her.
It was odd that that thought made her... sad.
***
Ulga, who had just appeared from deeper in the cave, nodded in response to Fira's question. "All the vampires are accounted for. Unfortunately one didn't make it. We should get the others back to their tribe. Now that they know they're being hunted by these genocidal lunatics, they'll be harder to pick off one by one."
"I asked them some questions," Sellia added. "But they don't know much. Not really surprising - it would be pretty stupid to talk about your nefarious plans in front of your prisoners. They were being held so they could be questioned about the whereabouts of other vampires. They're... uh... feeding on the spare corpses. Then they should be well enough to travel home."
Though they had come to rescue the vampires, it seemed that the real information windfall was this priest.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 713
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: Islands on Another World (GW2)
The Elves, Arteum
"Do you have any idea what's wrong?" Galenwen asked worriedly. She and Haldir were each holding one of Elabeth's hands, but the girl was completely unresponsive, apparently unconscious.
Her father shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it. Humans get tumors sometimes, but they don't grow this fast, or this... willfully. One might almost call it a parasite. But it doesn't appear to be living, exactly, for all it demonstrates a direction of purposeful movement."
The healer's voice was calm and steady, as always. But a slight wrinkling of his brow betrayed just how worried he was.
"Can you just remove it?" Galenwen asked, trying to match his calm and prevent the panic from rising in her own voice.
"That would be exceedingly unwise," Linlom replied. "Not until we know more about what it is and how it's affecting her. It's very likely that this... thing... whatever it is... has tied itself into her blood supply. If I try to remove it blindly, she may bleed out before I have a chance to contain it. It's simply too risky."
"Is there anything else you can do?" Haldir asked quietly.
"Maybe," the elder healer replied.
***
Hours passed. Galenwen and Haldir sat in worried silence, trying hard not to disturb whatever Linlom was doing, even if they didn't understand it.
Eventually, a change started to become apparent. The child began to breath easier. The lump in her abdomen didn't strain quiet so painfully against her flesh. When Galenwen put a hand to Elabeth's forehead, the fever had broken.
"You saved her!" Galenwen breathed. "Thank you!"
But Linlom - now looking exhausted and utterly drained - was shaking his head. "No. Not yet. I bought her time - that is all. We need to find a solution. Even my magic won't be enough to hold this at bay for long."
Still, Galenwen breathed a small sigh of relief that they had that time. She knew they would all make good use of it, searching for a way to save the child.
"Do you have any idea what's wrong?" Galenwen asked worriedly. She and Haldir were each holding one of Elabeth's hands, but the girl was completely unresponsive, apparently unconscious.
Her father shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it. Humans get tumors sometimes, but they don't grow this fast, or this... willfully. One might almost call it a parasite. But it doesn't appear to be living, exactly, for all it demonstrates a direction of purposeful movement."
The healer's voice was calm and steady, as always. But a slight wrinkling of his brow betrayed just how worried he was.
"Can you just remove it?" Galenwen asked, trying to match his calm and prevent the panic from rising in her own voice.
"That would be exceedingly unwise," Linlom replied. "Not until we know more about what it is and how it's affecting her. It's very likely that this... thing... whatever it is... has tied itself into her blood supply. If I try to remove it blindly, she may bleed out before I have a chance to contain it. It's simply too risky."
"Is there anything else you can do?" Haldir asked quietly.
"Maybe," the elder healer replied.
***
Hours passed. Galenwen and Haldir sat in worried silence, trying hard not to disturb whatever Linlom was doing, even if they didn't understand it.
Eventually, a change started to become apparent. The child began to breath easier. The lump in her abdomen didn't strain quiet so painfully against her flesh. When Galenwen put a hand to Elabeth's forehead, the fever had broken.
"You saved her!" Galenwen breathed. "Thank you!"
But Linlom - now looking exhausted and utterly drained - was shaking his head. "No. Not yet. I bought her time - that is all. We need to find a solution. Even my magic won't be enough to hold this at bay for long."
Still, Galenwen breathed a small sigh of relief that they had that time. She knew they would all make good use of it, searching for a way to save the child.