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Post by Harrier Wren on Mar 9, 2017 20:57:50 GMT
Broken trees marked the giant's path down the mountain slopes and into the forest. Oaks had split and cracked; slim birches and cedars lay flat or protruded from the pulped earth in pieces. When a foot the size of a ship came down, not much remained intact.
What was a town compared to a forest? How strong could a hut be, compared to an oak?
The nameless village had sat on both banks of a stream. Now a single water-filled footprint stretched the length of the village, right down the middle. Where the footprint overlapped with the banks, a jumble of houses and docks protruded from the brown water. The giant's weight had squeezed out a wave of thick stony mud to all sides, burying the rest of the town.
All this had happened two days ago. The survivors had buried their dead and moved on. Now the lord of this land had posted a bounty on the giant, not least because of half a dozen larger towns not too far away. The giant was believed to be sleeping in a newly-carved clearing not too far away.
If one muddy necromancer had her way, that giant would never wake up.
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Post by Fianoich on Mar 12, 2017 3:34:05 GMT
Harrier Wren The figure slipped into the physical world, shivering as the material world settled around her like a heavy snowfall. It bothered her sometimes, but she coped with it. Wind gusted her hair, and it drifted around her face, not unlike a white-out, but it was nothing compared to her eyes. They were pure white, with no pupil or any other aspect of mortal eyes. Yet, she could see as plain as they could. And what she could see now was destruction. A cold smile flickered across her porcelain face at the sight. Someone had had an unfortunate encounter with a giant. Its footprint had smashed its way through some poor mortal town. And there were those, with ambition and pride, who sought to profit from its trek. That she approved of. And if any of them could swayed to her cause and to fight in her name- the smile crept back across her face and she sauntered through forward, creeping from tree to tree, humming to herself. Her footsteps were silent and still, graceful and elegant as a dance. But now, the question was who would she come across first?
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Post by Harrier Wren on Mar 12, 2017 16:21:49 GMT
FianoichIf Harrier had learned one lesson on the road, it was this: put too much focus on the big obvious threats, and the little ones will skitter up and bite you. So while a portion of her attention remained on the horizon or the water in splashed-out puddles at the town's edge, she kept an ear out for looters, crazed survivors, and other hunters. The pale woman in the trees didn't appear to fit any of those categories. White skin, white hair, white eyes, humming a nameless tune with a smile. That kind of carefree anomaly tended to go hand in hand with magic, the kind that would let a woman travel alone while caring for her appearance. The pale woman made Harrier feel cheap, grimy, and awkward, just at a glance. Harrier felt her pulse rise and her hands clench. Something about this woman, this lady, inspired a visceral response in her that she couldn't identify. She wiped a fleck of mud off her face, probably without success, and tightened her grip on her walking stick. "Hello there," she called along the town's edge. This whole area had been smashed by a tidal wave of mud and driven into the trees, not far from where the pale lady walked. Probably not that far, though: she didn't look the type to walk in much. Might not even be capable of getting muddy. "Did you see the giant come this way?"
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Post by Fianoich on Mar 12, 2017 19:42:59 GMT
Harrier Wren "Hello there," a voice called out to her, and Fianoich turned her head, listening. It was a woman, human by the look of her. Something was different about her than most humans she had encountered. Mortal magic clung about her like a cloak. She had power enough to be useful. "Greetings, traveler," Fianoich said, voice lilting and musical, "I am afraid that I missed the arrival of the giant." A slight frown flickered across her face. "A pity, for giants are distant and solitary creatures most times. Rarely do they intrude upon other's lands. I take it that you seek this giant for a purpose of your own?" She clasped her hands behind her back, peering down through the town at the destruction wrought by the giant. "Do you seek to bargain with such a creature? Hunt it down for revenge or-" Something glinted in her eyes. "Wealth, perhaps, or power? Surely there are those who would reward you for such acts." She took a few steps closer. "But to battle a giant?" She laughed softly, "That takes a great deal of power and something between courage and and foolhardiness." She raised an eyebrow and met Harrier's gaze. "Which of those are you?"
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Post by Myles Brantley on Mar 13, 2017 7:46:10 GMT
Clip-clop, clip-clop. Four horses and a mule trotted down the worn dirt that passed for a road. Three bore riders, one nothing at all. The mule wore a weight of baggage. "Do you really think we can slay a giant, Myles?" asked a youth, face fresh, but a gambeson which might have once been white heavy with dirt from the road. "If it exists," replied a man with short brown hair and stubbled features. He carried a heater on his back emblazoned with a white swan on a blue field. Mail peeked out from beneath a blue and black tabard equally stained from the road. The youth looked somewhat a mirror to the man, though there may have been five years or more between them. "What, you don't think it exists? What about that town just there? Did it just go and smash itself?" "Young master Henry," said the third member of the party, an older yeoman clad in a leather jerkin, with grey in his beard, a quiver on his back, and a shortsword on his hip. "Have you ever seen a giant?" Henry shook his head no. "Neither have I. Neither has Sir Brantley. Don't believe in giants myself. Like as not it's just some sorcerer gone mad." "So you don't believe in giants, but you believe in magic?" asked the boy. "Oh aye, it's real, lad." The riderless courser whinnied. Myles reined his rouncey in. "Something's got Tempest spooked, John." The yeoman nodded. "Hear those voices?" Myles did not, but the old hunter's ears were keen. He trusted his father's man. He urged his mount forward and they trotted on, growing closer to the town... and the voices John heard. Harrier Wren | Fianoich
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Post by Harrier Wren on Mar 14, 2017 23:41:40 GMT
Fianoich Myles Brantley"Does it matter why I'm hunting it?" said Harrier evenly. "In the end, whether I'm after it for revenge or fame or money or curiosity, or even just a death wish, it all comes down to me and the giant. The fight unfolds the same way regardless of my motives. As for courage or foolishness, I'm not sure it matters which one I think I'm following: every man watching me will have his own opinion, no matter what I say or do. Those aren't practical judgments for me to make. Self-examination may be a wonderful thing, but I've established I mean to take down the giant, so all that matters is whether I can do it or not. And I believe I can." The sound of horses percolated through the trees. Careful to keep the white-eyed woman in her peripheral vision, Harrier glanced away and caught a glimpse of three or four horses, not too far off. "And you?" she said to her questioner, judging the nearby woman-shaped being to be the greater potential threat. "What brings you to the wreck? Not revenge, I think. The dead, maybe. Curiosity. Am I close?"
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Post by Fianoich on Mar 26, 2017 21:38:30 GMT
Myles Brantley Harrier Wren Fianoich raised a delicate eyebrow as the woman answered her. The mortal had fire in her blood. She could be useful in the long term, but perhaps not right now. Fianoich turned at the sound of horses in the distance and frowned slightly at the sight of the men on horseback, wearing mail. She couldn't quite tell what it was made of yet, but it was likely iron. She could almost feel the tingly burn along her skin from its presence and she grimaced before turning back to the woman. "Boredom," Fianoich said after a moment, a curious lilt in her voice. "It has been too long since I have seen such a struggle. Thought it might be amusing to see what will happen." She stepped aside from the road as the horses approached. "So your motives are irrelevant. Does it never matter why we do things?" She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "And you intrigue me. You seem to have power and confidence in your power. Few mortals have such confidence." Another pause and she tilted her head. "Perhaps I can offer you a wager." It had been a long time since she had offered anyone a wager, let alone had anyone accept, but it would make things much more interesting. Everyone loved enchanted items and feared to lose memories. Risk versus reward. Would it be worth the risk?
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Post by Harrier Wren on Mar 30, 2017 18:57:13 GMT
Fianoich Myles BrantleyHarrier's teeth bared. She didn't often boast or reveal much of herself, didn't even exert her power to any great extent unless in training, but some moments called for a taller walk than others. "I have confidence in myself and my abilities, aye. I ranked at the third tier of mastery from the Foard of Elbion; I've walked roads outside the world; I've bearded a thousand-year-old Empress in her den; I've crossed the southern desert on foot; I've raised the dead, bound them, and freed them. I'm Harrier Wren the necromancer, and I've yet to find a challenge I can't outwit. Try me, faeling." She glanced at the horsemen again as they approached through the trees. They'd be here shortly; best to conclude this conversation before they came into earshot. "Name your wager," she said to the white-eyed woman, and folded her arms. "I succeed or fail to kill the giant, and what happens next? What gifts or prices will you exact?"
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Post by Fianoich on Apr 7, 2017 22:24:21 GMT
Harrier Wren Myles Brantley ------------------- A smile oozed across her face as the mortal spoke- a powerful magician by human standards. Oh yes, she knew some of the Foard of Elbion and its ranked. Fianoich crossed her arms, brushing a strand of hair from her face, eyes all white. Except for the word faeling. She hissed, her breath the winds of winter that wove through empty nights, and she stood taller. Her eyes darkened- the dark blue of the ice in the furthest northern wastes. "Faeling?" She hissed again, and the weight of a blizzard hung upon her words, while her face sharpened until it had the cutting-point of an icicle. "You dare compare the Lady of Winter to some..." She sputtered and stopped herself. Her eyes reverted to their normal white and she smoothed down a sleeve on her gown. "If you fail to kill the giant, you will die. And while the thought of possessing your spirit amuses me, it is not within my power to meddle in such business." Fianoich twirled a curl of hair around her finger, smiling once again. "But time is such things as you all understand. If you kill the giant within the time it takes for the sun to move one finger across the sky, I shall weave you one article of clothing, of your choice, with enchantment and quality that the world has not seen the likes of which the world has not seen in a hundred generations. And if you fail in that time..." Her voice trailed off, while her smile took on a wilder glint. "If you fail within that time, I shall take possession of your most cherished memory." She eyed the approaching knights. Mortals, once again. Dirty with iron-bearing armor. Normal, beneath her notice. Fianoich turned back to Harrier. "What say you?"
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Post by Harrier Wren on Apr 8, 2017 11:53:37 GMT
FianoichAs Fianoich's presence and aspect swelled and grew ponderous, threatening, Harrier found herself grinding the first two knuckles of her right fist into her left palm. She relaxed and let her arms fall to her side. Gestures of focus, however, involuntary, were not helpful just now. She ran over the words in her head, finding ambiguity - but manageable ambiguity. Harrier glanced again at the horsemen. Her gut twisted: men like this had been a threat to her more than once, and in a bargain like this, their presence could only interfere. Time, perhaps, to move on. "One finger's width across the sky from the time I find the giant - that, I'll agree to." She remembered, vaguely, that each finger's width against the sky was roughly one degree, maybe fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes might be doable. For an opportunity like this, worth it. Besides, she couldn't even tell just now what memory was her most cherished one, though that added to her sense of unease. If she wound up losing actual knowledge because of this... Well, too late now. "You'll hear the giant fall. Find me then, Lady of Winter." Another glance at the horsemen in the trees - had they been some fae illusion, meant to add to her sense of urgency and force her into a quick decision? They seemed real enough, but nobody could do illusion like a high fae. Snugging her cloak tighter around herself, she met Fianoich's eyes one last time, then stomped off through the mud, following the immense footprints. She rubbed her ring. A wisp of smoke trailed out and shot away ahead of her: Mathquil the shade, her scout.
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Post by Fianoich on Apr 9, 2017 4:52:33 GMT
Harrier Wren Myles Brantley--------------- Fianoich smiled. "Wonderful, I agree to the terms of the bargain. It is sealed," she took a step away, towards the trees. "I shall come for you when the giant falls." The other woman headed off into the distance and Fianoich glided to the men on horseback. They were real enough and with one wager, there was a chance she could lose. That would be unacceptable. But with two wagers, well, regardless of what happened, she would come out on top. Nor had she specified which finger. She wiggled her delicate little finger and smiled, raising it up to the sky. "Well met, gentlemen knights," Fianoich called out to the others. "I seek a champion to prove his mettle against the giant that lays ahead." She lowered her head, draping her hair across her eyes. "For such a champion, I can bestow great wealth and power, and the promise of greater challenges to come." Fianoich slid a bashful smile across her face. "Please, proud sirs, can you lend me your aid?"
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