Spell Eater

Log Info

• Title: Spell Eater
• Emitter: Skielstregar
• Characters: Skielstregar, Murder
• Place: The Wilderness
• Time: March 22, 2023
• Summary: Skielstregar and Murder are traveling to Wilderness Pointe to trade wares gathered from the woods. Displays of magic are shown, comparison of bloodlines laid out once more but in practicality. But once was a nice teaching moment becomes a fleeing for life as Forgotten-Skielstregar's magics overpower. Several tree crashes later, and a sentient halberd later, everything is fine, and consensus is reached to take a breather before continuing on.

The Wilderness, Trail to Wilderness Pointe, Midday

The woods are grey, a lingering mist hanging in the air from recent rainfall combined with a rolling fog. And, the woods are quiet. Save for the occasional thud and thump of a silverscaled sith-makar dragging a small sled of goods. Mostly chopped firewood, but also some pelts and small game that wouldn't feed them much. His halberd acts like a walking stick, him rumbling along a tuneless song. "Thisss one had been meaning to ask," he mentions to his traveling companion. "How doesss your magic manifessst? It ssseemsss very different for every person thisss one hasss ssseen use magicsss."

As usual in these walks, the Goblin is ranging about. Sometimes she is checking small traps for game, other times she'll pull back a small tree or log to Skiel's sled to be used later as firewood. Sometimes she's just burning off energy.

"Do you mean how I cause it to happen?", she wonders, squinting at the large form of Skiel nearby. Murder hurries back to his side, her expression having grown thoughtful. "You know, for the longest time, I thought it just happened. Say the words, draw the little symbols... But when I think about it, I can feel it. In my blood, I mean. It feels like..."

Her voice falters, and then continues, speaking something low in Goblin-talk, her fingers curled and tracing something in the air. When her mouth opens, flames lick out, and she tilts her head back to the open sky. The gout of flame does not last long, but it is followed by two more in quick succession. The mists surrounding the flames are banished for a short time.

Murder nods her head then. "It is my ancestors, I am sure of it. Singing songs of olden times, bidding me to join them in the afterlife as a hero."

Skiel continues to hike along, the set of ropes held over one shoulder with ease as he watches Murder run about, as well the explanation proffered. "Mmmmm," he rumbles, dead eyes widening slightly at the display of magic. As well as the flames thereafter. His eyes linger behind her, like he was trying to find something brief. He shakes his head, "Ah. Ancestors. Thisss one understands asss such. Kin, the memory of ancestorsss livesss in flesh and blood. It isss part of the reason why thisss one can breathe ice like that of their sssilver kin."

He walks for a little bit, pondering. "... thisss one mentioned they feel it too, in their blood. But the power isss... odd. They /make/ the filth do what thisss one wants. It isss not pretty, but... like... thisss."

He stops for moment, focuses on his hand. It clenches tight, and black ichor begins to seep out from betwixt his shiny scales and drip. "Give... thiss one... sssight to sssee unseen..." he growls, him huffing out a plume of black laced cloud.

The ichor moves suddenly, sliding up his arm and covers his eyes before it >paffs< away like a bubble, wafting in black mist. Skiel's dead silver eyes are aglow with an etheral trail. "Like that. Thisss one can sssee invisible thingssss with it."

GAME: Skielstregar casts See Invisibility. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15

"I am not surprised that it is ancestors, considering the God I follow, Angoron. Strength is important. Was important. To my people." She eyes his silvery scales, a slightly covetous look in her eye. "So somewhere in your ancestors, there's a silver dragon or two, yes? Maybe more? Their blood is your..." She blinks a few times. "Does that mean you are going to get wings and fly?" She seems rather excited for that.

While she seems used to the black ichor that seeps from his skin, and moves about his body, it's the intonation in his voice that gets to her. She lets out a breath, and manages a chuckle. "If only I could turn invisible. To test ya. Your eyes have this... glow, yes? Looks neat with your silver scales, and the mists today."

Skielstregar can't help but laugh loudly at that. "Hah! Thisss one wissshes! Growing wingsss. That would be beyond exciting. But yesss, there isss sssilver dragon in thisss one'sss lineage sssomewhere."

Malefic's crack in the blade twists to a grin.

He glances to the weapon before chuckling and patting the top of the blade. "Sssa. Strength isss important to Angoron. They imagine your ancesstorsss are ssstill watching now."

He grins, rows of wicked and unnatural teeth flashed. "Thanksss! Not all are good, essspecially when thisss one 'letsss loose', so to speak, but-" Previous conversation and the topic gets him to blink. Then- "Oh! Thisss one remembers. You mentioned you were going to show that you can ussse magicsss to fly? Can thisss one sssee how you do it? If it isss not too taxing?" he requests, tail swaying.

Murder smiles at his laugh, nodding. "Wouldn't it though? Would we ever get you back on the ground again?" She draws a breath and huffs. "I.. I don't know what it is they see, though, when they look at me." She fusses with an ear, fiddling with the silver rings there. "Sometimes it feels like a lot of pressure to live up to." Her expression takes on a more somber look. "Ah.. undead stuff? Necromancy?"

Her expression brightens, her grin broad, when he asks about using magics to fly. Her fingers are already tracing the sigils in the air, her voice soft and low as the words of magic are spoken, as Skiel finishes speaking his request. The motions are slow, and pointed, to make them easier to view. While the mists make things harder to discern, a faint outline of wings appears to be coalescing at the Goblin's shoulders. They then transfer to Skiel, as on the last syllable uttered, Murder hops upwards and plants her little hand in the middle of his chest. She wraps her hands around one of his bandoliers. "So.. go on then... fly!"

Skielstregar bows his head. "Sssa. Lots of presssure. But, guidance. And you are never alone. They must think you are doing jussst fine, seeing asss you still can do magicsss," he holds up a finger, elucidating. But that finger curls back. "Ah.. yesss... necromancy. A decent amount."

The large silverscale's attention shifts to the mists briefly before looking at Murder's movements, he himself fumbling in mimicking them. ".. ah. Thisss one doesssnt' really make sssymbols, just kind of throwsss thingsss abou-"

He freezes at the hand on his chest, tail ceasing its sway. "Thisss one..." he manages to croak out, but is confused. "... wait, what? Thiss one thought you were going to... to.. uh. Uhh. UH."

Without realizing it, he was floating up higher. Still holding onto the sled, the contents slowly tip over and scatter out to the ground in a clang. Skiel starts flailing, tail making circles in the air. "Murder! How!? Fly?!"

The Goblin is laughing hysterically, but manages to get out, "Let go of your sled!" Giggling, she pats his arm, "It's okay, you won't fall. So.. what I do is look to where I want to go, and then just imagine myself floating over there. SLOWLY!"

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fly: (13)+1: 14
GAME: Murder rolls fly: (9)+2: 11

Skiel lets go of everything, including Malefic, who does a singular flip in the air to embed its haft into the ground. It angles slightly, looking up and on in amusement.

The makari at this point, however, is now upside down. Several things dangling freely and threatening to fall or smack into someone. He's still faintly panicking, but doing his best to get under control. "U-Uh, okay?" he wheezes, looking about and spying the sled. Might as well go over there- aah! The motion is jerky, him (still upsidedown) translating that way.

Arms dangle, rivulets of miasmic ink falling down to the trail below.

Murder is one of those things dangling from Skielstregar, and she is still laughing. "Have... you swum before, Skiel? Can you imagine you're diving down, and then want to swim up? What motions you'd do? Imagine doing those motions and ya will get yourself right-side up.

The Goblin huffs in annoyance as a veritable shower of coins streams out from her top, falling to the snow below. "Welp, guess those are just gone... Is it just me is or Malefic enjoying this?"

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fly: (15)+1: 16

From below, there is a rumbling, growling, possible laughing. "Yes I am!" The split in Malefic has opened and is fully grinning.

Skielstregar calms down some more, him taking a deep breath to suppress the natural urge of vertigo. "Sssa, they enjoy ssswimming. They can... can try." He moves slightly, body flattening out with tail swooshing from side to side like a paddle. The movement is more stable, him getting closer to the ground slowly. Still a dozen or so feet from it.

But then he pauses. Looks to his arms. The small stream of ink becomes more of a pouring, splattering against the ground and vanishing in a black miasma. Small vegetation withers away in its midst. "Uhh... no... no no no... not... not now..!" he slightly panics in a hiss.

The Gobbo sticks her tongue out at Malefic, though she is still thoroughly amused at the whole situation.

As he levels out, and begins to descend, she pats him on the arm. "There you go! Well done! We're almost there. So uhm, you only have a relatively short period of time. What I did to learn how long it lasted was to hover a bit off the ground, and when it was over, I'd just hop down. I did that a few times. So I won't fall out of the sky, at least not unexpectedly."

Her eyes widen at the sudden gush of inky darkness that rains down under them. "Oh.", she says quietly. "It's okay. You're okay.", she repeats over and over, looking at the ground below as they get closer.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fly: (16)+1: 17

It's very nice to have someone there to try and make it a more calming situation.

Though as the rivulet becomes stream, and stream becomes river, its hard to be anything /but/ calm. "T-Thiss one doessn't.. doesn't know what'sss going to happen!" he tries to say while focus on getting down to the safety of Ea.

The smell is becoming overpowering, death. Cold. Chill. The ink doesn't disperse fast enough below, the puddle growing.

And then suddenly it stops.

Before reversing and slamming back up into Skielstregar. He gasps, tensing, back straining. "You... aghh... get... tree," he painfully tries to relay, looking to detour to a nearby branch but lacking the strength to move the gobber over as the spell keeping them afloat gets wobbly.

GAME: Murder rolls spellcraft: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (12)+15: 27

That the Goblin is scared, there is no doubt. But at the moment, she remains calm. Despite his suggestion, she refuses to abandon Skiel. "No, I don't want you to suddenly fly off to who knows where like this."

His attempt a trying to move her is dodged, the Gobbo clambering from one bandolier to another, even using some armor pieces as a means to maneuver around the silver-scale Sith.

As the gobbo clambers about, trying to remain upright, she can see that the little outline of wings on his back from her spell is starting to vanish. Piece by piece. "But what if... ughh... oww... necromancy take... life energy...?" he tries to warn before seemingly trying to command. "No, sstop. Stop..!" Much too late it is to realize:

The magic is being eaten away from within.

And they both /drop/.

The stomach lurching is real from the sudden acceleration, trails of miasma flowing behind him as they plummet. The ground comes- "I. SAID. STOP!" he yells in a deranged snarl, eyes growing crimson.

The plummet halts naught but mere inches above the ground. Hovering.

Jutting out from between his shoulder blades are two gnarly looking stalks of wispy black bone. They branch out to the sides, elongated fingers of ink harbor no leathery skin to hold aloft wind. Bony wings.

Skiel, simply put, throws up ink onto the ground.

GAME: Skielstregar casts Fly. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16
GAME: Murder casts Fly. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16

"Interesting.", is the Goblin's comment as she notices her spell being eaten up, one little piece at a time. "You... learn spells cast at you by others?", she wonders out loud. She squeaks as they suddenly drop, and squeaks again at his voice, twisted slightly and yelling.

Skielstregar might feel the bump as she slams into him, at that point falling away to make her own snow-Goblin in the snow.

Shivering, she arrives at his side to comfort him, risking parts of her sticking as she rubs his back and squeezes at his shoulders. "That's pretty metal.", she says, a tone of awe in her voice.

Skielstregar is... wait. Is that really him? After he's finishes emptying his stomach unto the ground, his head whips over to Murder. Eyes gleaming crimson. An extra set of fangs has joined the first. Limbs and maw leaking this inky black. And he speaks. None of the calm, timid nature. It's all growl and snarl, every words seeming like its a crawl to a nip or a bite of the air. "This one SILVER. Of COURSE they are METAL," he snarls, every breath spewing a black-laced plume of frozen air as he floats there in the air, bone wings held aloft.

Malefic has lost its grin, and simply melts and reforms nearby.

If Skiel is smelling anything, he definitely smells fear. And maybe a small amount of something else. "Well, that concludes our flying lesson for the day.", she quips, slooowly backing away and getting to her feet. Another shiver, and the Goblin bolts, heading for the trees.

Fear. And fleeing. Slitted crimson eyes dilate to saucers. "Don't run, it.. it... MaKeS iT mOrE fUn!" he snaps, thudding to the ground on all fours before taking off after Murder, galloping into the treeline.

Malefic follows. Reconstituting itself amongst the trees. "YeSsSsS, rUn LiTtLe- ACK!" Forgotten-Skiel runs head first into the trunk of a tree, shaking the leaves as some dead branches clatter to the ground. His hands and feet are off the ground, the magic from the spell still in effect.

Small beings have a much easier time running through the forest and undergrowth than not-small beings, but even Murder takes a few branches in the face and torso. The sounds of ANGRY Skiel keeps her feet moving though. The resounding thud as he runs head-first into a tree causes the Goblin to wince.

Then a silence falls as she finds a place to hole up, trying not to pant, and hoping that the sound of her heart hammering in her chest wasn't as loud as it sounded to her.

GAME: Skielstregar casts Blood Scent. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16

This is what Skielstregar was warning about. Imagine all that strength shown before. Now add in... this.

The undead-driven Skiel pulls himself off the tree, frustration and rage all in his visage. "SsSsSstuid MaGiCs!" he snarls, the sound of tearing wood and splinters exploding out as he tears into the side of a tree.

More movement. He departs, half galloping, half throwing himself in the direction of where the wee gobbo went. Sometimes he gets to speed. Othertimes, another tree is smashed into and there's frustrated growling and snarling, growing increasingly more so. There's a smattering of ink pouring out, like a deluge of water, then- "I. CAN. SMELL. YOUR. BLOOD!" comes a sonorous, terrifying warcry.

The thudding gets closer. Trees shake from being ran into. "Ow. aCk! DaMnNaTiOn!"

And then the sensation of dread looms close. "WhErE aRe.. aHa! CoMe Clo-"

There is a clang.

There is a thud. "... ow. Okay. Okay. Thisss one... lossst their marblesss a little..." A curious peek would show Malefic hovering over Forgotten-Skiel on the ground with the blunt end poised to whap.

Those feet don't move an inch for some time, waiting for extended silence before they start to move back out of burrow. Murder is banged up, scraped and bleeding from the nose. She sniffles, eyeing the fallen Skiel and Malefic. "Are you okay?", The Gobbo wonders softly. "Is it all out now? Urge to eat little Goblins gone?" A hand reaches out for Malefic's handle, "Thanks for the assist."

It is a curious sight before Murder, now that the wild intent has abated somewhat. Two fingers were shoved up his nose, black ichor still leaking out from them and his eyes and slammed shut. Another hand rests over his head, guarding from another smack as he himself was doubled over on the ground. "... jussst... jusst a minute..." he growls. "... wass... a lot of... thingsss at once..."

Malefic's jagged maw is a firm line, but it splits to speak. "It is wise to let loose. But Skielstregar has not done such in forty seven days, barring the singular fight with the Cryohydra," it relays, shifting some to let Murder wield them. Or.. protect them. Their haft feels cold to the touch. And despite the namesake, it feels almost... sacrilegious to hold. "I must intervene from time to time. Are you injured, Murder?"

Her voice is small as she replies to Malefic's question. "No. I'm okay." Her nose is likely broken, judging from the swelling taking place. The butt end of Malefic is planted upon the ground, as the Goblin leans heavily, trembling as she comes down from the wicked adrenalin high that had kept her running before.

Still leaning on the halberd as she moves forward, she puts a small hand on Skiel's shoulder, the one opposite the cryohydra head. "I'm sorry. I had meant it to be something fun, you learning to fly."

"You do not sound okay," Malefic answers dryly, shifting somewhat in Murder's grip to 'look' at them before the weapon is placed into the ground. It remains a decent wall to lean against.

Forgotten Skiel is tense upon the ground, focused upon his breathing. "It'sss fine..." he growls. "It wasss fun. Thisss one...-" He seems to catch his breath finally, him inhaling deeply before letting out a long plume of black-laced fog. The deathly features abate. And all the ink slows to a dribble.

He flops over, panting in exhaustion. Dead eyes snick open, the crimson gone. "... thisss one apologizesss. They did not mean to... to do all of that. Thisss one thinksss the... magicsss started sssomething within the blood and made more come up. It was... it wasss a lot of magic.."

Murder eyes Malefic for a moment, and slowly shrugs her shoulders. "I've had worse. It'll heal." She leaves Malefic to stand on his own, and limps over to where Skiel is flopped over.

"It's alright, I understand. I'm not mad." He might feel something on him, as she moves to settle on his chest, the back half of her loincloth set in such a way to keep her feet and behind from sticking to the frozen Sith's armor.

Her voice is scratchy and low, a feral grin on her face. "Was it fun? Chasing me? Hunting me?"

Malefic offers no more comments, them instead observing the situation. But Skielstregar's body slowly lowers the last few inches to the ground, bony wings melting away to black pools beside him that evaporate away in a black mist. He looks down at Murder on him before shaking his head. "... yesss. Of course," he starts, contrary at first. "But that chase and hunt isss with the intent to /kill/ and /eat/. That isss deplorable."

He eyes her for a moment before his head thuds back into the earth, black laced crimson blood dripping from his head where he smashed against trees. A long sigh leaves him. "... jussst... if that happensss again, don't... run. It makesss it hard to sstay in control."

The look on Murder's face is hard to read as she listens about the chase, and his intent at that point in time. She grins again, looking feral once more. Her small hand raps knuckles on his chest. "It's okay. It worked out, and I know for next time. If there is a next time."

The small weight is lifted, the crunching of her footsteps in the snow heard retreating from his location. There are a variety of noises, generally the sounds of things being shifted and moved, with unladylike grunts liberally sprinkled among the other sounds. Eventually the sound of her footprints return, with the added sounds of a sled being pulled along.

A small vial is dangled above his face, full of a reddish liquid that may be familiar, especially to adventurers.

Skiel subtly flinches from the tap against his chest. But he sits upright as she hops off. "There will be a next time, it will never go away," he rumbles, a tinge of sadness at the end. But he shakes his head, limbs trembling as he too was coming down from his own adrenaline high.

He looks up at the sound of sloshing. Blinks. Then over to the sled and then Murder. "... oh. Thank.. you. You ssshould take one asss well, for your nossse," he rumbles, taking the vial and knocking it back. A grunt of pain as things knit, but relief soon after.

Wobbling, he gets to his feet, and picks up Malefic. "... thanksss for... teaching thisss one how to fly? Heh..."

The Goblin waits for him to down his, before she uses one herself. There's an uncomfortable noise from her as her nose is magically repaired, and she lets out a sigh. She eyes his wobbling, and snorts. "Perhaps we should make camp nearby, and get a bit of extra rest."

From her things stashed on his sled, she pulls on her furs, as she can no longer hide the shivering. "So.. uhm. It's... hard to say, but uh, in that short time when you were chasing and I was running?" She rubs at her cheeks as they colour. "Most alive I've ever felt."

Grinning brightly, she nods, "You're welcome. We should go flying together, some time. There's lots we can get to, you know?"

Skiel looks about, pondering the idea of rest. But his gaze drops down to Murder and her admittance. He stares on in confusion. "... sssoftkinsss are confusssing," he says after a long beat, shaking his head. "Glad you felt alive? Thisss one felt like they were strung up by the leg to a feral horssse and hit every bump along the way. They do not sssee how being hunted is being alive but... okay."

He takes a breath, slowly going back down to a sit. "... sssa. Go flying. Get more usssed to thisss. Need to tell Chuiaa about thisss."

Malefic silently settles down next to him, laying itself down quietly.

"How is it confusing? I was how close to death? Being eaten? I mean, how much do you think you can bite off of me in one go? Quite a bit I would say." She giggles then, at his confusion. "In moments like that, knowing that staying alive depends on what you do in the next few moments, it's.. it's an amazing feeling. Where you kind of ... move past fear. Like... being in a big fight."

The Gobbo nods to that, "We can take her flying, yes? She'd have fun, I think!"

Skiel continues to stare at her. He holds up two fingers, one on each hand. "You and thisss one have-" he makes them go apart. "-completely different definitionsss of what isss an amazing feeling. That all sssoundsss downright terrifying."

He nods warmly. "Sssa. Thisss one thinksss so too. But..." He tries to shift a bit, but finds his limbs like lead. "... we ssshould ressst for now, can continue at dusssk. We are none too far from the Pointe."

The Gobbo snorts and shrugs her shoulders. "You had to be there, I guess. On my end, anyways." At his suggestion of rest, she nods. She climbs over the sled to Skiel's side, where she stretches out beside him. After only a few moments, there are noisy snores.

-End Scene-