Xiur staggered in agony as the blade plunged through flesh and organ alike; it's withdrawal almost as painful as its entry. Only disbelief came close to matching the pain. His hands, perched only moments before on his knees as he'd taken a few deep recuperative breaths, now joined his knees on the freezing ground, the white ice quickly turning red before him. He did not even feel his body sag and fall prone.
"No...a traitor?...in our midst..." a hum of desperate pulse and gasps partially drowned the blast of Qylios' energy as she blocked the portal to whomever she'd seen. He could only assume it was the traitor. She was clearly trying to encourage him to hang onto life. He was torn between the grim humor in the irony that the Lord of Hope should need this "pep talk", and the ungrateful image he would present were he to laugh at good Qylios' efforts.
He lay back, feeling life ebb from him. He felt an odd satisfaction in the face of death. He guessed that the only reason his flesh had been so easily pierced was his expenditure of power in Ne'haer, prior to his arrival here. None could say he'd not done his part. His very vulnerability was testament to this fact. He had a second unbidden notion. Maybe it was not a traitor at all. He knew as well as anyone that the aukari had breached the city and had converged upon the Hall. Who knew if the portal might not have availed itself of their goals, and brought one here, presented with such an irresistible target?
But shouts around him neither confirmed nor denied this. He heard tearful voices now, and curses of vengeance. One stood out in particular. A young woman, slight of build, yet sturdy. What was it that brought her to mind over the others? Something about the word "watch" or 'watching" being bandied about brought focus to an encounter just a few bits previous. The girl, stating her hope that courage and hope would watch over her. And then she'd gone off to fight!
The scope of her courage, to go into such deadly madness with nothing but an unrequited, nay, unacknowledged, wish to receive just a small measure of that which has ever been the life-blood of soldiers throughout the ages, struck tears of shame from his eyes. How could he not fight at least to the extent this young one was doing here, right before his eyes!
He reached out to her, feeling her hand and someone stating her name as 'Symbri', as they told her in hushed eagerness to take hold of it. It was almost laughable how much strength he felt in her grip, far more than his own. "Young one....Sym...bri...it seems...you must...stand my watch...The one...who has done this...must be...returned...Information he has...or can not...be allowed...to report...I give you....give you the...means...Stand still a...moment...He went not...back through the...portal...He is here...still...Follow...follow the blood...my blood...the scent...on his sword."
He began to glow as he spoke. A cost of power that only in his weak state would be demonstrated by such a display. Then all at once, the glow shifted and engulfed Symbri instead. Her body growing and shaping majestically into a massive stag of power, still glowing as the Bruxen of the wilds around Ne'haer. Her weapons morphing and climbing to form dire antlers; her armor enhancing the beast's own considerably tough hide; Her hands and feet, already tougher than most, now formed into broad iron-hard hooves. The amazement at her enhanced condition was plain on her cervidaen face.
His exchange complete, Xiur lay back, content. He began to mutter something. Looks became grim around him, for it was hard tell if he was speaking of 'Dying', or if some other delirium beset him, causing to believe he was now conversing with Daia.
"No...a traitor?...in our midst..." a hum of desperate pulse and gasps partially drowned the blast of Qylios' energy as she blocked the portal to whomever she'd seen. He could only assume it was the traitor. She was clearly trying to encourage him to hang onto life. He was torn between the grim humor in the irony that the Lord of Hope should need this "pep talk", and the ungrateful image he would present were he to laugh at good Qylios' efforts.
He lay back, feeling life ebb from him. He felt an odd satisfaction in the face of death. He guessed that the only reason his flesh had been so easily pierced was his expenditure of power in Ne'haer, prior to his arrival here. None could say he'd not done his part. His very vulnerability was testament to this fact. He had a second unbidden notion. Maybe it was not a traitor at all. He knew as well as anyone that the aukari had breached the city and had converged upon the Hall. Who knew if the portal might not have availed itself of their goals, and brought one here, presented with such an irresistible target?
But shouts around him neither confirmed nor denied this. He heard tearful voices now, and curses of vengeance. One stood out in particular. A young woman, slight of build, yet sturdy. What was it that brought her to mind over the others? Something about the word "watch" or 'watching" being bandied about brought focus to an encounter just a few bits previous. The girl, stating her hope that courage and hope would watch over her. And then she'd gone off to fight!
The scope of her courage, to go into such deadly madness with nothing but an unrequited, nay, unacknowledged, wish to receive just a small measure of that which has ever been the life-blood of soldiers throughout the ages, struck tears of shame from his eyes. How could he not fight at least to the extent this young one was doing here, right before his eyes!
He reached out to her, feeling her hand and someone stating her name as 'Symbri', as they told her in hushed eagerness to take hold of it. It was almost laughable how much strength he felt in her grip, far more than his own. "Young one....Sym...bri...it seems...you must...stand my watch...The one...who has done this...must be...returned...Information he has...or can not...be allowed...to report...I give you....give you the...means...Stand still a...moment...He went not...back through the...portal...He is here...still...Follow...follow the blood...my blood...the scent...on his sword."
He began to glow as he spoke. A cost of power that only in his weak state would be demonstrated by such a display. Then all at once, the glow shifted and engulfed Symbri instead. Her body growing and shaping majestically into a massive stag of power, still glowing as the Bruxen of the wilds around Ne'haer. Her weapons morphing and climbing to form dire antlers; her armor enhancing the beast's own considerably tough hide; Her hands and feet, already tougher than most, now formed into broad iron-hard hooves. The amazement at her enhanced condition was plain on her cervidaen face.
His exchange complete, Xiur lay back, content. He began to mutter something. Looks became grim around him, for it was hard tell if he was speaking of 'Dying', or if some other delirium beset him, causing to believe he was now conversing with Daia.
OOC - This becomes an offshoot thread with Symbri, Yanahalqah and Doran, starting here. The rest of you, keep fighting!