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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 5, 2017 11:26:02 GMT -8
Aria was so thankful, even if Mal was the reason she got shot at least she was still willing to help her. Cutting the sleeve revealed her slender white arm, and the grotesque wound underneath which was still bleeding, the bone showing and visibly cracked. She stared at it, just appalled at how it looked, and the fact she would be crippled if she ever left this god forsaken dungeon made her feel sick. She slowly got up, using Mal as a form as support until she got on her feet, her hand returning to hold the arm.
"Use the sleeve....as a tourniquet please." Aria said slowly, holding out the affected arm for Mal to wrap the sleeve around it. She was still looking at it, her breathes rapid and frantic as the pain and shock courses through her body.
Though she didn't respond to Mal's comment of her being alright. She just wanted to leave, immediately, even if it meant going through that room filled with liquid. No matter the cost she would leave, she would find a way to get out. Maybe for good.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 5, 2017 17:48:08 GMT -8
/Dominic/
The Crusader watched Grom approach, as he himself had taken a knee and plucked up the Priest's head; holding it easily in his gauntlet, he cleared his throat with a quick grunt and muttered a request,
"I require a small..." He began, though finished by tearing a long stretch of cloth and twisted it into a cord; which he strung through the man's throat and out his mouth before binding it about his belt, beside the helm.
He cleared his throat, or perhaps sniffled, his gruff tenor made it hard to decide; Dominic's helm swivelled over to Aria and Mal, who he approached with long and heavy strides, taking a knee swiftly as his large frame still had him almost at their shoulders. The crown of his helm making the final few inches.
Aria's wound stirred a quiet unsettling in Dominic's gut; more than fifty dead men, was this carnage of a single lead pellet propelled by fire and thunder. He raised a hand, hesitantly, before looking up to Aria's face,
"I may implore the Great Flame to heal this wound for us all; so we might struggle on, my companion." He offered, resting his blade's tip in the floor, leaning its weight against his shoulder. His mittened hands curled around the bloody blade.
\\
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 5, 2017 18:18:22 GMT -8
Aria turned to look at Dominic, having to almost crane her neck to stare up into his face. His offer was kind, but all it did was bring a grim chuckle out of her mouth, the severity of the situation not sinking into the man. She wished he had his hope, his strength to push forward even when faced with bleak madness. When she spoke, her voice would hold a kind of....fake hope, something that would be clearly seen as a lie of faith in this place.
"As much, as I thank you for the offer. I doubt, this....'Great Flame' can reconnect my arm, and fix the broken bone to anything better. The arms gone, I'm going to have to get it removed, chopped off. I'll have to learn how to use my left hand for everything, everything from scratch. There's no hope for it. None. Stopping the bleeding, will save me long enough, not to die. Okay?" Aria said, her voice breaking and cracking while she talked as she tried holding back another wave of tears. The blood, on her arm, the part that was hanging off, had drenched it. The dark red a stark contrast to the white of the arm higher up.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 8, 2017 6:22:57 GMT -8
/Dominic/
"It may..." Dominic rebutted grimly, as he wringed his hands together slowly; as though trying to coax a coal to flame in his very palms.
"... But you are right. My radiance burns, blinds, and terrifies the foes of the Light. It has destined me to protect, not mend." He admitted with some solemn pride.
"I can mend the wound so it does not demand amputation, at the least." He offered with more warmth than the chilling hues of his steel helm allowed.
"... Tourniquets...", he remembered Aria saying; remembered the term from the fields, screaming men and women of the faith finding themselves in the shadows of Light, untouched by its healing radiance, having to rely upon the violent hands of man to cease the pain. Remembered the lost limbs... The lost lives.
"... That will be dangerous." He pointed out, looking around to the corpses and the blood. He shifted from his kneeling position, and beckoned Aria to lay her hand in his palms; which were now splayed up and out towards Aria, like a sacrificial flat.
"Though you seem a skeptic. Have faith in mine; for I owe my might and glory all to the Light."
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 9, 2017 15:34:39 GMT -8
"For once, can you actually listen to me?! I told you the arms gone! Stop trying to give me your fucking hope! I don't care how strong your 'light' is, it can't fix the fact the bones completely broke and shattered. You'd just be making it worse. How about you try making it stop hurting like there's a wild animal eating it? Cause that's what's killing me other than the knowledge I'll be losing an arm!" Aria cried, finally fully breaking as Dominic persisted. She had enough, enough of these Ruin's, enough of the monsters, enough of her horrible choice in teammates, enough of the pain, and enough of the loss of her arm.
She still held her arm out for Mal to hurry up and put a tourniquet on it. But with the recent outburst she pushed it into the other woman, trying to get her to do it.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 10, 2017 11:43:19 GMT -8
In the mirror room:
As the group fought the priest and his madman, something was happening elsewhere. In the liquid, which had been still once it finally stopped pouring in, was starting to churn and twist. Like a whirlpool it suddenly started swirling into a center point, something sucking it all in. The amount decreasing and decreasing until all there was left was a red gem, glowing with intensity.
The barrier destroyed, the magic now centered into this one, final gem. It called, and a creature answered, a gargoyle, eyes glowing with the same red intensity as the gem. It entered the room and made its way to the gem, picking it up in its mouth before turning around and rushing out, a new destination in mind.
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Post by relentless on Dec 10, 2017 13:53:01 GMT -8
/Outside of the Ruins/
/Braund/
Again, and again.
They just kept... loitering. These foolish sheep and goats, frolicking around without a care in the world. They were abhorrent, disgusting, and immature. It was simply foolish to even think they could come here. To them, the ruins was nothing more than a place infested with the risen, the shamed and the vile. But to the Cultist Champion?
It was, quite simply, a hunting ground for both his sacrificial needs, and for his own amusement. Not to mention his own art styles required a large variety of ingredients in order to become perfect. But now wasn't the time for dalliance, now was the time to go set off to work, and to find these sheep and teach them a lesson.
Upon the weald path, he took his time licking his bloodied hands individually, human blood acting as a canteen of water for him than anything else. A refreshing nectar, along with a tinge of salt to add to the flavor as he took a nice, long lick across his palm. His tongue was stained red, and he lowered his helmet again, swapping the grip of his sword to his left hand. He walked across a narrow path that was unnaturally dark, just the way he liked it. It was a peaceful bliss to him, the howls of the unknown, the glossy stares of creatures lurking in the dark. Memorising, really.
He could see it, the entrance to wear an eldritch fluctuation reached out to him, ringing in his ears, whispering even. So he would make his way to the source, listening to the whispers grow louder, deeming his quarry drawing closer.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 10, 2017 14:53:04 GMT -8
Braund would see it, the gargoyle with the gem which the eldritch and supernatural whispers were coming from. It burst from the doorway with frightening agility, heading straight towards the imposing figure. But right before the two would collide the creature skidded to a stop, claws dragging across the ground, tearing it up and flinging dirt and stones in front of its path onto Braund a littler. The gargoyle stared up at the Cultist champion, the red gem glowing even brighter now that there was another source of energy.
"Well what do we see here? A man with a goal to destroy the trespasser's near.
Champion, there is one so bold and worthy to fight. He has stolen, destroyed brethren, and usurped my blight. His minion did the same but is with light.
Artwork will be true, and if you can kill them I will give them onto you.
Let the wounded pass, for someone must spread the word of these deeds fast. You will know, for there is only two of the four in tow to be worthy foe's." The voice spoke, it's words being projected into the tall man's head. The gargoyle proceeded after the voice was done to drop the gem onto the dirt, pushing it towards Braund with its head so that he may choose to accept or deny this offer.
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Post by relentless on Dec 10, 2017 15:41:03 GMT -8
Braund came to a stop as the stone formed creature skittered and leaped toward him as he drew nearer to the Ruins entrance. He did not ready his weapon, nor would he rest it upon his shoulder. Instead, he took the blade and hovered it in between his feet, and stabbed it into the earth as he awaited the creatures arrival; hands resting upon the fine brass pommel. His faceless barbute looked down upon the gargoyle as it came close, his body swaying back a tad as the dirt was kicked up at his brass ridged greaves, dirt mixing with the eldritch hieroglyphs that had been forged by cultist blacksmiths in preparation for his... 'arrival'.
He listened quietly to the gargoyles terms rattling on his head, silencing all the other whispers that had been caused from the gem being taken as it was dropped at his feet. A glistening, crimson red gem that seemed to hold a strange, black and red residue inside. He stared for a brief moment in bewilderment before he looked back up at the Gargoyle, exhaling from his mouth.
"... Follow, creature."
Braund said as he knelt down, picking up the gem slowly, and holding it in his palm as he looked at it more closely.
"The sheep will pay."
Braund concluded with a nod toward the creature, his sword raising out of the ground and shouldering it with a heavy clank upon the mans brass shoulder.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 10, 2017 16:07:35 GMT -8
"Good, The champion agrees for the wager, let's hope not to wait much longer.
This pet will be your tool, and I will be your fool.
Call me Prophet, may our paths never cross......Braund, for they will lead to loss.
We will speak again, if you win.
Hhahahahahaha." The voice ended with a cackle, before silence overtook the entire area.
The stone in Braund's hand would start burning the skin touching it, the stone melting and disappearing into the flesh leaving a mark with a simple capital P. The gargoyle meanwhile had transitioned intself into a knightly kneeling pose, most likely to swear allegiance to the man now.
It's eyes stayed red, but now there seemed to be a black mist that trailed off its sockets. Now, it moved to the Cultist's side, a low rumbling comin from its chest as it was content.
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Post by black379 on Dec 13, 2017 21:22:16 GMT -8
Despite her efforts to remain collected, even in the dire circumstance, Aria's hopeless outbursts had the musketeer stifling a cry. Mallilie's teeth were clenched tight, uneven breaths hissing through them. She feebly held the woman's limp arm as it was forced on her. Shaky hands made a poor effort to tie the torn sleeve around Aria's bicep.
"P-please. If he can heal you, let him do it!"
Mal was desperate for the panic to be dealt with.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 14, 2017 5:58:56 GMT -8
Aria had been so busy with herself and her own hopelessness, that she hadn't even realized how broken Mal was becoming herself. She looked to her, then to her arm, then to Dominic, and with a sigh she pulled her arm away from Mal before the woman could finish the tourniquet.
"Ok....ok....fine. Dominic....just do it already before I change my mind again." Aria quickly said, moving the arm out to him, her head hung low as she didn't want to watch incase it failed or even succeeded.
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Post by rumsztyk on Dec 14, 2017 14:50:21 GMT -8
"Ugh, fuck's sake!" Grom turned his head rapidly from Dominic as the metal man rather gruesomely relieved the corpse of its head. Having nothing better to do, he reloaded the gun, eyeing the other three from time to time.
He was going to remark how awfully indifferent Aria was to her injury, until she finally broke. He could be seen opening his mouth only to quickly purse his lips again. With the gun reloaded, he now gave the priest's body a proper search. However, he couldn't help but get distracted by the conversation... not that he believed in Dom's bullshit, it never hurt to take a look.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 14, 2017 15:12:16 GMT -8
/Dominic/
For all her own cynical fury, he found admiration and respect; she had faith in her... lack thereof. He respected it, and bowed his head; though kept his hands up in solemn prayer.
When, however, Mal dashed down Aria's request; his helm raised as a golem would at the behest of its master, and gingerly took Malilie's arm in his immense palms. Even without magic, his gloves were deceptively soft, the grooves of his blade's grip rippling in the leathery surface like a soothing tide. His hands were warm, like a home's feather-bed in midwinter.
"You're angry... It's good; it is the hottest coal to burn the hottest flame. But remember that a flame's life is bound to its radiance." He explained softly, his tone, what might have typically been a rumbling landslide in battle, or an earthquake of authority in speech; softened indeed, to this moment. They were the pebbles in the roadway, riverstones gently rolling downstream.
Even his blade, and its grizzly pommel of skulls, looked more an effigy of hope and protection; leant against him like a cross to burden the weight of the Dark and The Light.
He did nothing but hold Aria's arm in his palms, as he spoke.
"O claro Solis,
Qui in alto sonuisti..."
Dominic recited, a low, haunting hum,
"Co omnia elementa se implicuerunt
In lamentabilem vocemum tremore,
Quia sanguis Quod Lux sui illa tetigit."
He paused, though he spared not a breath as he looked up to Aria's eyes; should she look back, there would only yet still only be the Dark within his helm, and the glimmering light over the torchly crest at the fore of his helm.
"Say this with me."
He whispered,
"Animas nostras de Obitus."
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Dec 14, 2017 17:14:41 GMT -8
Aria almost didn't dare, she didn't want to look up and speak but there was almost a deep urge to do so. And so she did, looking up into the faceplate of Dominc and seeing the light and darkness.
"Animas nostras de Obitus." She spoke, the words flowing out surprisingly steady and sure, as if an inner strength had awoken in Aria.
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A single, strand of golden light, trailed itself down from Dominic's arm onto Aria's damaged one. It snakes it's way to the wound, winding around and through the skin painlessly, getting rid of bone fragments while mending the flesh just enough to where the arm was no longer about to fall off. Even the bleeding had stopped, but even with this heal Aria's arm would still need to be severed, the bottom half already having turned light blue under the blood. The arm was dead, but Dominic had saved enough of it to make sure Aria would survive.
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Aria watched, she waited, the light didn't heal her arm, no, but it gave the pain she felt rest and made it so she didn't have to hold it anymore. The gasp of relief was immense, and now she was crying, not for sadness, but for joy, the Great Flame was real and she had witnessed it first hand. At first, she had been nuetral and was even faithless as she stayed in the hamlet, but now she was and will be, faithful to the light.
"Thank you....Dominic." She whispered, and in a probably surprising move went and hugged the giant of a man, crying the entire time before her tears finally stopped.
"Let's leave this place." Now with that, Aria released herself from Dominic and with new fervor headed out of this accursed room.
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