• Graded • Taxing Journey (Nero)

Atop a stony plateau overlooking the lands of central Idalos, and growing wealthy from the gem stones pulled from the rocky soil, Etzos is a bastion of independence; firm in its belief that man should rule Idalos, not be servants of the vain Immortals who nearly destroyed it. But can the many factions set aside their conflicting agendas and see this through?

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Ryder
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Sun Feb 04, 2018 9:32 pm

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17th Cylus, 718

Cylus was always cold, but tonight felt as if the cold was alive and trying to tear apart the men. All of the mercenaries had come equipped with their warmest clothes in a futile attempt to prepare for the cold, but it was no use. This cold was unnatural, and with the nature of their mission it was something they would have to endure for what could be breaks.
Ryder knelt down in the snow, watching carefully with his team behind him. He'd been tasked with leading on this mission, though it was clear he wasn't the real leader here. Another man, one he hadn't had a proper meeting with yet, was here with him. He was important, by all accounts, but Ryder had no idea how - nor did he care. His job was simple, lead the mercenaries, take out the target and win the battle.
Ryder waited patiently, a familiar feeling in his stomach. They'd done this before, all of it. Biting cold, attacking from the trees - and last time it had gone sour at around this moment. But not this time. Ryder was certain of it. He wouldn't let this situation go as bad as the last had, he was dead set on making this impression good. He would show that he was capable of greatness.

Behind him, Ryder felt a small tap on his shoulder. He glanced over and met the gaze of a mercenary he hadn't had the chance to talk to outside of missions yet. They had interacted a small number of times during training and a few other small encounters, but not enough for him to even know the man's name.
"You alright?" Ryder whispered, raising an eyebrow. The man nodded, but his shaking said otherwise. He was evidently one of two things, terrified of freezing. Both were detrimental to the mission and to his health. Ryder watched carefully, evidently examining the man, causing him to shudder a little under Ryder's gaze.
"I just...it's cold, sir" he admitted. Ryder thought as much was true, and nodded his head. He took off the cloak he had and handed it to the man, keeping behind a tree. It was a part of his potential camouflage gone, but the health of his unit mattered more. As the man went to complain, Ryder raised his hand and glanced back, hearing the faint sound of movement in the snow on the road. Sure enough, he caught glance of torch light, followed by the torso of horses.

With the man beside Ryder moving to duck behind a tree before putting the cloak on, Ryder glanced to the two archers he had on this side. He raised his hand, readying for the order, before looking to the mysterious man that was so allegedly important and nodding. He waited until it was clear that the archers had a good shot, before lowering his hand to signal the attack.
As if on queue, the two arrows flied, one striking down a horse and the other planting itself in the ribs of a guard. Hearing a scream, all the men on both sides knew to attack, rising from the snow around them and rushing out of the trees. As Ryder stood to run, he looked back to the archers.
"Target the horses, and kill any stragglers" he ordered, before sprinting, his team following after him. Running through the snow was hard, but it wasn't the first time he had endured it. He was ready this time, knowing the careful steps he would have to take to avoid falling.

As Ryder and his team burst out of the trees, he held his weapon, ready to attack. In front of him were ten men, one of which was now dead and the on the ground, barely avoiding being crushed by a dead horse. Ryder felt ill prepared. All he had was six men, two archers and whatever the mysterious man brought to the battle.
With that thought burning in his mind, he knew he had to try his best. He would have to kill at least two people to lead these men how he would want to be led. His sword swung down in a big overhead arc, planting itself firmly in the shoulder of a man, catching him by surprise. The rest, however, wouldn't be caught off guard. In the middle of the group was a man on a different horse, their target. He was evidently not a mercenary, or a guard, which left the one possibility.

As Ryder pulled the sword out, he heard himself being rushed from the side, glancing to see a guard with his sword raised high about to strike Ryder down.
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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Neronin
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Mon Feb 05, 2018 1:02 am

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It was a wild juxtaposition that the cold chill now numbing his bones also have Neronin a savage pleasure. It seemed that anything that would give his loving body comfort angered the necrotic spark within him, and anything that caused him pain was sought out by the alien entity. Neronin had come along on the mission both because the target was high value and Mongrel had an interest in the capabilities of one of his young fighters. Apparently he wanted Neronin to assess the man. The necromancer’s pale eyed flickered towards the young warrior as his mind drifted into him once again. Ryder, his name had been given as. Personally Neronin knew next to nothing about him and pretended no interest. He rarely interacted with the common soldiers.

He stood apart now, leaning against the grey bark of an old oak tree, letting the chill wind harass his form. He felt the cold and his numb limbs screamed out with the agony, but the spark’s enjoyment overrode his instinct for warmth. Neronin watched the young warrior comfort one of the men, and rolled his eyes upwards. He was glad that sort of weakness was not within his purview in the group. He had little patience for such things. They were alive and they were earning more gold with this task than they had likely ever earned before. Yet, still the men mewed like children, as if others cared for their experience of discomfort.

Neronin watched Ryder command the ambush without comment. Well if Mongrel wanted him to observe, then observe he would. Of course, he was also here to ensure success. So when the second man almost got the better of Ryder Neronin summoned his sap and stuck him with the spell with a casual flick of his wrist. The dark magic shot out and struck the man in the chest, sending him to his knees.

The tax collector was at the back of the group and looked as though he was thinking about fleeing. Neronin couldn’t allow that. He stepped forward and as a guardsman walked in his way Neronin unleashed another dark burst of ether that Sapped the warrior’s horse. The thing toppled sideways, exhausted. Neronin, instead of moving around the beast, stepped up into the air using his Skystepping to walk above the fray. His feet fell on wild green portals rather than ground as he walked above them all. Neronin gathered his necrotic ether as he did so. The spark summoned it within him so easily these trials that he felt the power come to bear almost instantly. Neronin gestured towards the tax collector as he did so. The shifting shadowy aura that had replaced his mundane shadow, a kenning of his dark power, erupted away from him. It became a physical manifestation of shadow and smoke, a great beast that lunged after the tax collector. It dove at him with claws that manifested in great swiping attacks. The man was knocked sideways off his horse, his head turned at a wild angle and great gashes across his face and torso. The man was dead before he hit the snowy dirt below. Neronin, satisfied, stepped sideways through the air.

He appeared back behind Ryder and his men on the ground. Neronin watched Ryder impassively, a Sap spell hovering around his chest. It swirled in midair as if agitated with hunger. Neronin saw one of the men almost being overwhelmed by a pair of the tax collector’s guardsmen and shot the Sap into one of them. The man fell to one knee, gasping for air and dropping his sword.
“That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die.” - Lovecraft
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Ryder
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Wed Feb 07, 2018 11:39 am

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As Ryder prepared to block, the man's body launched as a missile of darkness collided with him, causing Ryder to glance back - only to see the allegedly important man. Ryder was starting to understand why he had been sent with them. With a small nod to him, Ryder turned back to the fray, watching the fight. But something else caught his attention.
As the enemy man raised his torch high and held his hand up, Ryder had a flash of memory to their last attack. An unseen archer, somewhere. It had to be. What else could he be signalling? With a small panic spreading, Ryder charged the man bearing the torch, keeping his sword in hand. As he ran he heard a horse being struck down behind him by more magic, but his focus remained on the torch bearer.
Slashing with his sword, the man was struck down, the burning torch dropped as a scream filled the area. But it was all too late. Through the cries of combat, the clashing of metal and the biting winds, the vicious snarling could be heard.

Rushing out of the woods, two large wolf-dogs charged, snarling and biting as the bigger one pounced on one of the mercenaries, tearing him apart. Another had it's eyes fixed on Ryder as it ran, barking with sharp and bloodthirsty fangs on display. Ryder readied his sword, thrusting to plunge it in to the beast, but it was too late. His sword slashed the creatures side, before it knocked him to the floor - his sword falling out of his hand.
As the creature snapped and snarled over Ryder, he kept his arms high to ensure that it couldn't maul his face. That didn't stop it's teeth from sinking in to his hand, however. Ryder let out a cry of pain, shouting and screaming. Flying overhead, Ryder thought of Rocky, and sure enough the bird came. Nosediving down, the raven sank it's talons in to the creature. They were in no way sharp, but it caused the beast to cry out and stop biting for a moment, giving Ryder the time he needed.
As soon as the beast turned back to snap at the bird, Rocky took off, and Ryder flipped positions so the creature was underneath. With his concealed blade still up his sleeve, Ryder grabbed the creatures throat. With one small movement, the creature stopped lashing out, the hidden blade launching out of Ryder's sleeve and planting itself in the creatures neck.

As Ryder came to stand, he felt his head start to spin. Fortunately, his dominant hand hadn't been mauled, meaning he could still use his sword. But he wasn't in a position where he should keep fighting. That wasn't about to stop him, however. Ryder had seen missions go bad before, and that wasn't enough for him to give up. He wouldn't give up now. He had to show everyone that he could do this, that he could lead.
Ryder reached to where his sword had fallen, quickly finding the hilt. If he couldn't use both hands, his power advantage was gone, which meant he had to rely on speed now. Lunging forward, Ryder swung overhead as a man backed towards him. Hitting him from behind meant he had no idea Ryder was coming - perfect. With a swift strike, the man fell, the sword planted in his shoulder, the force knocking him to the floor. Using his foot to help slide the blade out, Ryder finished the man off, stabbing him through the back when he was down.

His vision going blurry, Ryder started to lose focus of who was who. He could barely make out his own men from the gear they had, and he saw that his men were overpowering the others. He'd lost sight of the wolf, causing him to glance around in a panic looking for it, before seeing a man charging him with a greatsword in his hands.
As Ryder prepared to block, legs starting to shake, one of the mercenaries tackled the opponent to the ground. "Ryder! Are you hurt?!" he shouted, before driving a knife through the enemy. Unable to speak, Ryder nodded his head, before losing his footing in the snow.
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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Neronin
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Thu Feb 08, 2018 8:20 pm

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Why did Neronin even try. The boy had gotten himself injured despite Neronin’s efforts to help them. These men were not the pinnacle of warriorship, Neronin had to admit. Neronin watched from the back of the fray as Ryder struggled to his feet again, despite injury. When one of the tax collector’s men caught sight of the unarmed Neronin, he turned to face him.

Neronin raised an eyebrow and glared back at the man. The sparks within him rumbled. Surely this mundane soldier was not going to attack him? The man banged his sword on his shield and muttered. “For Etzos.” Then he charged. Neronin released the final form of his Sap spell, the dreaded Siphon. The black miasma spiraled in dark tendrils towards the man. Audacity, nerve, stupidity. He would pay for these crimes. Neronin knew, even as he drained the man of his life force, that he was infected by the arrogance of his sparks. He would need to check that.

When the man dropped to the ground, a corpse, Neronin stepped up to him. He watched as Ryder and him men closed in together to fend off the superior force. It had somehow been bolstered by wild looking wolves. Perhaps there were more soldiers in the woods...

Neronin reached out and raised the recently deceased man as a Husk. He spread the power of his spell to the other three or four dead men littering the snow. They all rose, clutching weapons and staring with green eyes. Reinforcements had arrived. Neronin sent them charging to Ryder’s aid with a thought. He felt the gentle tug of soft overstepping. It would be nothing more than a headache, judging by his past use of similar magics.

“Together!” Shouted one of tax collector’s men, raising his own sword. The others seemed eager to obey, closing into a small line facing the medley of undead and living thugs. Neronin watched the wild wolves briefly as they nipped and snarled at the men on the edges of
Ryder’s tiny group. They would have to go.

The nearest undead lurched forward and swung its sword clumsily down on the wolf. The blade cut deep into the flesh of the thing’s back and it yelped. It fell to the ground and whined. The undead abandoned its weapon, a foreign thing to the creature. It clawed at the animal with gloved hands and bit into it’s flesh. Hot steam poured from the blood gushing from the wolf’s wounds. There was a moment of horrified silence on both sides as everyone watched the undead feast on the wolf.

“I think you should attack.” Neronin said to Ryder, looking at him expectantly. He punctuated this by stepping sideways into a crackling portal. When he stepped out again he was at the tree line where the wolves had come from. Sure enough, there were two soldiers dressed in the leather of houndmasters crouching there behind the trees. Undoubtedly they waited to see the outcome of the battle before deciding to join. Trust Vuda to use feral wolves to guard his tax collectors.

Neronin lunged forward, drawing the masterwork dagger at his belt and ran it across the throat of the nearest man as he did so. The man yelped and screamed, the blade cutting him sloppily. He was able to knock it from Neronin’s hand as he toppled over. The cut was sloppy and barely lethal, but it did the job. He was out of the fight and slowly bleeding to death in the trampled snow. The second man drew from his belt a whip and uncoiled it. Neronin stepped back and stared at him.
“That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die.” - Lovecraft
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Ryder
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Tue Feb 13, 2018 10:36 am

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Ryder lowered to his knees, trying to regain his balance as a cold sweat ran down him. He'd never had an injury like this before, one so immense that the adrenaline of a fight did nothing to even soothe it slightly. Even through the adrenaline, it was agonizing pain. A deep and fiery burn, so hot it would make Faldrun run with terror and fear.
"Snap out of it, man. Ryder!" he heard a muffled voice shout. Glancing up, he saw the familiar face in front of him, a mercenary who had helped him train a few Arcs prior to this endeavor. He put his hand on Ryder's shoulder and shook him, but Ryder couldn't bring himself to respond. He was in a trance of pain, his eyes fixed forward trying to stabilize the world around him with no success.

Around them, men fought to keep the two safe, and for their own lives. The fighting was cut off for a second by a noise Ryder couldn't make out and a sight he couldn't see. As if from nowhere, the mysterious ally of Ryder's spoke, telling him he should attack. Ryder glanced to him, seeing him step through the portal after the order was given. Ryder nodded, trying to stand, using his sword as a support - but the man in front of him tried to stop him.
"You're in no position to fight, Ryder" he started. But the rest of his words were lost to Ryder's ears, as the glance of an enemy man rushing from behind him entered Ryder's view - snapping Ryder out of his trance. Ryder grabbed his sword and pushed the man in front of him aside, before thrusting with his blade, plunging it in to the gut of the enemy. Without any hesitation, Ryder pulled the sword out, watching the man drop to the floor. All he saw was red.

If it was an 'attack' the observer wanted, Ryder would show him an attack. He lowered his stance a little as he walked, trying to maintain balance. He couldn't move far, but that wouldn't prove to be an issue. A man charged at him, seeing his hand and assuming weakness. His weakness, however, didn't outweigh Ryder's one advantage - his allies. As the man charged at him, a raven flew down again, sinking it's talons in to the back of his neck. With a scream of terror, the man tried grabbing at the raven, dropping his sword.
Rocky flew away again, giving Ryder the chance he needed. As the man glanced back, the last sight he saw was a blade coming overhead, before lodging in his shoulder. He let out a scream of pain as Ryder slid the sword out, going for another swing. His strikes had less force than before, and his aim was worse, meaning what was meant to be across his neck again missed and planted in his side, under the arm that was gripping his shoulder in pain.

Removing the sword from the screaming man, Ryder watched as he fell to the floor. As his gaze glanced around, he saw that the battle was in their favor, with just a few enemies left. His gaze immediately fell to a man in battle, however, as he was struck down - Ryder's cloak still on his back.
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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Neronin
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Wed Feb 14, 2018 8:53 pm

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The necromancer had an advantage, besides the power of the magic at his disposal. He felt a thrill of wild exultation when he was in the deep cold, courtesy of his spark. Undoubtedly his body would shake and ache later from the harsh exposure, but here he was fine. Neronin stood in the snow and wind, unbent as he stared at the man. “A whip.” He said, casting out a tendril of black miasma from his mouth as he spoke. “I don’t think that’s is going to do much against your friend here. See, he can’t feel pain anymore.” The tendril of necrotic magic slithered toward the corpse of the dead houndmaster with a sinister coiling motion. Neronin had specifically not animated the corpse quickly, just to let the man feel the fear of it.

The dead man rose again, his form dusted with snow that did not make him shiver. His eyes burned with a green light. “He only feels hunger now.” Neronin whispered with relish.

The man’s face, what could be seen through the bundles of scarf and helmet at least, was white with terror. The Husk lurched forward, raising gloved hands. The man began a flurry of blows with his whip. Most did not affect the undead at all, but some cut away the fabrics and leather or his wrappings, leaving gaping wounds. The other backed away, still throwing blows at the corpse, his grunts of effort becoming more desperate.

Neronin followed behind the pair, summoning his power once again. Ether evaporated off of him like black steam from a boiling pot. It swirled around him and collected in a ring around him. When he was sure the man was tiring he flicked a finger and a sliver of willpower. The miasma of dark magic slunk out and clashed against the living man’s chest, spiraling into him. The man faltered as the Siphon spell pulled his energy and converted it to healing for Neronin. The mage felt a rush of warmth, as if he had stepped up next to a roaring bonfire. He knew it was the energy of his victim converted to his own pleasure.

Neronin gasped in exultant pleasure as the man stumbled and fell. He dropped his whip and raised his arms as his undead companion fell upon him. With screams he attempted to push the Husk off. But he was weak, and the thrall did not tire. Eventually the undead sunk it’s teeth into the man’s neck and ripped. Blood once again stained the snow as the struggle became still.

Neronin brought the second man back as a Husk as well. Both the undead struggled up onto their feet under Neronin’s guidance. He crafted a portal in the snow and brought the Husks through it with him. He stepped out of it, flanked by his undead minions, and into the battle that still raged.

Neronin returned just as the man fell. He had been one of their own and a competent fighter. Neronin watched the life leave him even as Ryder turned and saw as well. Neronin thought Mongrel wouldn’t appreciate more of his men dying when the mage could do something to stop it. So Neronin raised his hand and as he did so, the dead fighter rose as well. By now the fighters and undead outnumbered the Etzori. Thus was the power of necromancy. Eventually, you had the superior numbers.
“That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die.” - Lovecraft
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Ryder
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Thu Feb 15, 2018 12:11 pm

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"Circle them!" Ryder shouted, before rushing for the man that had struck down his friend. As he charged, however, the body of the man seemed to resurrect. Ryder didn't stop, however. He had to lead by example. He would show these men what happened when they killed one of his own.
As the man turned to face Ryder, his life quickly came to an end, as the sword tore through his neck, leaving near to nothing left of it as his head barely stayed in place, his body falling back from the impact almost immediately. Ryder's face was burning with a ferocity, one that only ever showed itself in the heat of a battle. It was pride, and power, and the want for more of both. It made enough adrenaline for his hand to stop aching as much as it had before.

As the men circled the last four, Ryder stood up from the outside of the circle. He was fortunate enough that his target had been separate from the others, meaning he wasn't trapped in the circle with the enemies. Ryder watched as the guards helplessly watched around them, waiting for where they would strike from, a group of bloodthirsty mercenaries and bandits surrounding them. It was perfect, they could be slain easily and all of this would be over, the caravan would be theirs.
"Wait" Ryder ordered, walking towards the group of people. He was testing his luck, perhaps too much, but his task was to lead - and that was what he was doing. He was leading the people how he saw it fit, with the orders he wanted to give. Should that be overruled, so be it. But thus far, the men just listened, not taking their eyes off of the guards.

"You're in luck, lads" Ryder begun, eyes focusing on the guards as a small parting was made for him to join the circle. "Unlike ya friends, you boys get to live to see another day. But we'll start simple, put ya weapons down, or I take ya 'ead and feed it to the wolves."
Ryder's stone cold gaze was serious. It was one he had learnt from all of the people in Al'Angryl, and all the time he'd spent training or on missions. Even now, despite the pain in his hand, he could maintain the ferocity. If anything it added to the intimidation, the injury being ignored so easily. Truth be told, it wasn't easy. But he was doing it.

As ordered, the men dropped their weapons, knowing that their fight was over. They had no other choice. It was normally at this stage an offer would be made to recruit the people, but Ryder wasn't about to do that. He didn't know if he even had that authority, but it didn't matter. That wasn't his plan. These weren't normal mercenaries, they were guards - well equipped and professional. But they were still too valuable to kill.
"Bring them alive, we can use them for information" Ryder smirked, the realization of potential torture setting fear in to the guards. They began to shake with terror, all of them now unarmed and at risk. If they dropped down to grab a blade, they would be struck down before their eyes even saw the sky - and they knew it.

"And slit their throats if they try and resist."
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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Wed Feb 21, 2018 2:47 pm

Your review is ready!

I like that "reanimation" is a warning here ... like ... it's a Neronin thread? Duh. I enjoyed your description of your Spark's life-destroying "personality," and I enjoyed how determined Ryder was to make a good impression despite his injury. He did well to keep himself in control.


Ryder

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
-3 Banditry, -2 Murderrrrrr

Loot

100gn from the tax collector, a good quality dagger, 3 decent longswords, 2 axes, and another 5 daggers, 1 bastard sword

Injuries + Overstepping

Mauled hand, will take 10-15 trials to heal and is at risk of infection if not cared for properly

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Longsword: Hitting from behind
Longsword: Overhead slash
Longsword: Use a speed advantage
Longsword: Combat in snow
Longsword: Fighting with blurred vision
Endurance: Pushing through immense injury
Leadership: Giving clear orders
Leadership: Taking care of your own

Other Knowledge:
N/A

Neronin

Points

XP:
15 | These points can be used for magic.

Fame:
-2 Magic Use, -2 Murderrrrr

Loot

100gn from the tax collector

Injuries + Overstepping

Mild Overstepping: Neronin will feel dizzy and motion sick for thee remainder of the trial.

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Rupturing: Skystepping over a battle
Rupturing: Skystepping to avoid the blade
Rupturing: Bringing forces into battle
Rupturing: Using Blink to command a battlefield
Rupturing: Using portals to avoid flanking maneuvers
Intimidation: Using undead friends to scare people
Appraisal: Noting another’s leadership skills
Appraisal: Assessing a subordinate’s quality

Other Knowledge:
N/A

If you've got a question or concern or if I've missed anything, don't hesitate to PM me!

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Muse
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