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Revision as of 23:56, 30 December 2005

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Balm of Soothing Winds

Hours later, on a camp right outside the frontiers of Whiteshield, inside Windian territory...

Under snow and freezing winds, the raiders return.

Reports fly, of their exploits in the Northern and Southern Forts of Spire.

The Angels hear of Dorian’s brigades, of how a gate was blown by magic, and Alexander and the Krausers rushed in... how Ryshassa sang in her lyre and all hostilities ceased. How she made the enemy ghosts give up on their cause, and had to inspire the Windian soldiers to battle again, so enraptured were all in such peace.

How they were struck by many little horrors, children’s bodies grafted with metal and wings, their dead lips repeating the word ‘mother’. How they filled the air and cut through some of the terrfied Windian soldiers, while Ryshassa stopped her husband from taking action, not wanting the little ‘cherubs’ hurt. Only when Alex cut through them in golden flame and protected the couple was it that Alexsei called upon the sign of Jupiter, and laid all of them to rest in but one movement.

A scorpion creature appeared on the halo then, chain cutting through the Windian soldiers, and Alexander joined Dorian in fighting against it, while Ryshassa and Alexsei rushed into the keep, and while the Windians fought with zombies on the entrance hall, rushed in... what proved to be a mistake, as when the door was kicked to the center of the fort, a choir of lament poured in, making the Windians take losses and turning their winning fight against the zombies... while Alexsei himself fell to the tail of the Dragon-Blooded scorpion inside.

The Choir ascended to be heard on the outside, as the greatest blast from Dorian blew through the undead scorpion outside – and blew through the halo he stood on, that fell over the Fort quite spetacurlarly... just as Alex destroyed the Sevenfold Angelic Choir, and Dorian came to strike at the Dragonblooded scorpion, Deras, while Ryshassa brought her husband back to life. Renewed, Alexsei dealt the finishing blows to the weakened Dragon-Blood and ended the conflict with another sign of Saturn making sure all the dead, and the undead fighting the Windians on the entrance hall, remained inert.

Dorian hears reports of the Angel’s exploits – of how Valencia and Vorpal charged to the Fort first, and while Vorpal quickly dispatched the guards on the walls – and a serpent made of arms, whose corrosive spit seemed to have enough range and precision to fell Windians – while Valencia dealt with no less than four powerful shield godlings. The Silver Angel dispatched the Sevenfold Angelic Choir before the Windians could even be fazed by its hymm, and, under the commanding aura of the Pale Angel, the forces won, capturing a Dragon-Blooded lieutenant of the enemy, with no casualties, only a few soldiers hurt.

Reports given by sorcery, both teams meet once again on a mountainous Windian outpost, skyships flying above, as the soldiers stand ready in watch for any movement from Whiteshield...

Valencia Silverstar: Valencia listens to all the reports, then looks back at the low passes in the mountains before them, studying the routes. Those positions were empty now. The trap was baited.

And soon someone will come to reinforce them, before we can punch through.

"Good. We have done well in decimating those garrisons." The Windian brushes a flake of snow off her nose, then continues. "Now we wait for the rest of the force to come up."

Vorpal: Moving up to stand beside Valencia, Vorpal sighs as she follows the Silver Angel's gaze. Having finished with whatever 'atonement' it was that she had performed in the destroyed fortress, the Ghost-Blooded is once again her cold, enigmatic self. However, a light line of frown crossing her forehead betrays the fact that she still is not in the best of her moods.

"In the meanwhile, I want a new piece of equipment to be distributed among the men", she says after a moment. From her beltpouch she pulls out a short length of ordinary white candlewax. "Something to counteract against the songs of death." She smiles slightly. "I should have thought of this possibility sooner."

• Ryshassa stands next to her husband, her complexion perhaps a shade more ashen, her hand gripping his arm -- perhaps more tightly than necessary. She has since changed from her blood-stained coat and breeches, clad now in a kimono embroidered with a pattern of calla lilies intersposed starkly on a black silk background, over a white-quilted underrobe that helps shield her from the ever-present chill.
  
  Still, despite the comfort of new garments, the blood of her husband is neither washed from her memory nor her soul. Hours had passed... hours enough for the adrenaline to fade, and the shock of what had happened to set in. To remind herself of how close to death her beloved had been before she had pulled him back, back from the gate through she had sent those terrible, tortured children.
  
  On the outside, though, her expression is -- if not serene, at least attentive enough, and calm enough to pay attention to Valencia and the Pale Angel as they speak. Their part of the raid had gone more or less without difficulty -- but of course, they were seasoned warriors, as well as military commanders. "Yes, the... end result was quite satisfactory. For that I am glad. The enemy has been very... creative with their use of the dead."
  
  "I would like to be more ready as well. Candlelight can help against those songs?" Ryshassa queries, eyeing the object Vorpal indicates curiously. Her hand never leaves Alexsei's arm.

Vorpal: Vorpal chuckles as she turns her attention over to Ryshassa. "No", she responds. "But earplugs can."

Turning away from the view of the snowy passes, she moves slowly towards the Solar and her Sidereal husband. Her voice grows more somber as she continues: "I didn't expect them to use songs as their weapons just yet, but we were fortunate that it induced only sorrow. There are songs among the dead that can slay living men to where they stand." Moving her free hand behind her back, she gestures with the candle for emphasis. "It's best if our troops are prepared, in case they bring such a weapon to bear next time."

Valencia Silverstar: "Yes," The Lunar muses, remembering the obscenity that confronted her. That almost made her blanch and turn away. "They are quite a bit more creative than the others I've faced over the years."

Her few conflicts against petty necromancer kings and small undead hordes had not prepared her to face such things. Of course, the conflict in Windia weeks before this...had, to a degree.

"We must expect more of the same after we invade -- and worse."

Leonas Du Mistlav: Leonas scratches his chin, thoughtful...

"Well, I am able to carry words without the need to speak - so is Dorian. I believe we both can try to keep the commands flowing even when our soldiers are not able to hear..."

Alexsei: Nodding to Valencia, Alexsei smiles softly, nodding and smiling but saying nothing. To those he just met, he appears attentive, if somewhat tired. But those that would have spent more time with the Chosen of Saturn would realize he is... distracted.

This was too close. There was so much at stake, and this was is not the time to be so... careless.

His wife grips tightly at his arm, and he feels horrible for having worried her so. There were many factors that could have played in this incident... Was it his recent spending of essence to send the twisted cherubs back to Lethe? The maddening song of the choir abomination? His own feelings, for witnesing so much atrocities in these halls?

The answer still eluded him. But he was certain of one thing.

This was _much_ too close. And throwing my life away needlessly now will accomplish nothing. I must kick myself back into shape, and stop being so reckless...

Valencia Silverstar: "Next time, I will wear my armor." Valencia states, to no one in particular, almost to herself. And rubs where one of the wounds was. That would heal quickly enough, and the other wounds as well. If she did not simply do it herself. "This is fine for skirmishes, but unsuitable alone for heavy fighting."

Alexander: The prince comes at long last, his face lit up just by looking at the angels...

"Valencia!"
"Lilith!" He says, running in, his face...

... quite like Ryshassa's, beneath the happyness. Whatever they all saw, whatever happened to all of them, was anything but light...

He runs towards the angels...

And trips.
Falling face-first on the earth of the camp at their feet...

"... ouch."

Vorpal: "Good", Vorpal nods at Leonas' words. "We will count on you two, then."

It is ironic, the Ghost-Blooded thinks as she puts the candlewax away once more. Many powerful Charms in the repertoire of the Abyssal Exalted are based on the Chosen's words and voice - a deathknight could make others obey every command she gives, or sing a lament that could slay the living. Amusing how such powerful abilities could be nullified by something as simple as two little pieces of wax.

Originally, she had bought the candle just for that purpose, to give the Dark Angel a defense against some of the Vestal's dark Charms. Fortunately, the same tactic could be used in a bit broader scope...

It is Alexander's shout that stirs the Ghost-Blooded from her thoughts. She looks up, slightly startled, and only barely manages to keep the smile from rising to her lips as the Prince stumbles.

And how ironic it is, she thinks as she bends down to offer Alex a helping hand, that such a warrior in battle coud be such a klutz in some other... situations.

Valencia Silverstar: Her gaze shifts to Alex almost like iron to a lodestone, as she looks him over, making sure he is all right. From the battle, not the trip.

He is going to have to stop doing that.

Valencia lets the Pale Angel help him up, watching with some bemusement. "I trust you fared well, Alexander?"

Alexsei: The sight of the Prince, albeit one that would normally induce embarassment, pleasantly takes out Alexsei from his reverie.

He rubs Ryshassa's hand, smiling softly at the Prince. "It is a pleasure to see you again, your majesty... And, like lady Silverstar, I do hope you are well, my lord."

Alexander: The prince looks down, as if he was trying to hide something about it, remembering something painful, guilty.

Somehow, being with those two ladies did not seem to help with that. "I... did well enough. We all did... even with those terrifying things."

He turns to Alexsei... as if trying to remember something for a moment, struggling with a dream... and then, he manages to place it out. "Yes! Yes, I am... well. Kinda." He clutches his nose, all red. "Scrapped a bit. Nothing like we just went through..."

• Ryshassa allows herself a slight smile at Vorpal's comment about the candlewax. Slight, but hardly mirthful... merely a reaction to her own lack of cleverness. Like being the last to catch a joke everyone else finds obvious.
  
  Of course, she knows very well the power of music on the human heart. The music wrought from such monstrosities as they were faced with... are best left unheard.
  
  She, too, is startled by Alexander's clumsy entrance -- but Vorpal is quick to help him to his feet before she can even react. At Alexsei's words, she smiles and nods, in agreement with his sentiment.
  
  "We... faced many things we would rather have not seen, or done," she says softly. "But I am glad we are all alive."

Valencia Silverstar: "We'll face quite a few more before this unpleasant business is done, unfortunately." Valencia sighs, taking the moment to close one of her other wounds, turning it into an ugly purple bruise instead. "Doubtlessly," She says somewhat dryly. "Our esteemed deathknights are used to such things."

Vorpal: "Used to them, perhaps", Vorpal sighs as she absently brushes some dust off Alex's shoulder. "Fond of them, no."

Alexsei: "I do believe it is unevitable, and I agree with you, lady Silverstar." Alexsei continues, taking a deep breath as he recalls the past fights. "I would think the troops should be getting hardier as they know better what to expect, however... And preparation like the Pale Angel has demonstrated here will augment our chances also, I believe..."

Valencia Silverstar: "No one in their right minds should be." She replies, walking over to Alex, looking him over closer. "Hm. Let us hope the troops do not become too hardened."

• Ryshassa turns to Valencia, nodding grimly at the sentiments of the others. "I know. And I am prepared for such. Even if I may fear -- and yes, I will, sometimes -- I will not falter. I am a part of this willingly, as much as the rest of you." She squeezes her husband's arm, adding in thoughts meant only for him, And you WILL be with me until the end, beloved... I will see to it.
  
  Relaxing her grip somewhat, she observes the Lunar with some interest as the wounds lacerating her body quickly begin to close before her eyes. "You... need no assistance, I imagine?" the healer asks tentatively.

Alexander: "Well, you were able to make dozens of them fall to the ground with one gesture, Alexsei... is that too... draining?" He asks, holding Vorpal's hand there, smiling at Valencia.... "If you can take out those abominations just as quickly in the battlefield, Alexsei..."

Vorpal: Vorpal nods at Alexsei's words. With little ceremony, she staps away from the Prince to give room for the approaching Valencia. "I'll have to think about other possible ways we could prepare against whatever the Bishop can throw against us." Crossing her arms over her chest, she favors the Sidereal with a mild smile. "I hope it isn't too draining for you - it is a powerful weapon you have. How exactly does it work?"

Valencia Silverstar: Ahh, moving off like that? The Lunar thinks, then inwardly shrugs. Alexander is ok, relatively. She will not muss his hair or anything, not here. Nodding at him slightly, as if he passed her inspection, she turns to the Solar, silver-feathered wings unfolding and refolding slightly.

"That would depend. How much of your power is available at the moment?"

Alexsei: He gazes at Alexander, his soft smile betraying the concern in his eyes. His eyes move from him to the Plae Angel as he takes a moment to consider the question.

"It is a bit draining, yes, but very necessary in the war we are waging. A few sacrifices have to be made in order to grant us voctory... As to how it works, well." He pauses slightly for another moment, choosing his words carefully.

"It is a Prayer. The Maiden of Endings takes pity on the abominations made by those that walk Creation, and frees them of their cages of flesh... Souls sent that way will not be disturbed again by those capable of doing so."

Vorpal: "Hmm." She fixes Alexsei with a thoughtful stare. Then her eyes flicker for a moment over to Ryshassa clinging to her husband's side, before returning to the Sidereal once again. "How many of them can you free at once?"

Alexander: Alex's free hand touches Valencia's... pain on his eyes for just a fickle moment...

Don't go away.

They seem to ask of her, and of the healers, and on a intangible way, all the five Exalts seem to get... closer, to one another.

Alexsei: He lifts his chin in contemplation. "The number does not really matter. The Will of Saturn affects them in a certain area around the one that uttered the prayer... one or a hundred, if they are in that circle, the effect will be the same on them."

Leonas Du Mistlav: "But you have to be in the center of this circle..."

"A bit too dangerous to expose an asset of our's so, isn't it?"

Alexsei: He is reminded of the recent battle.

The pain, then oblivion. And the voice of his wife, the only anchor that keeps him tied to this world.

"I have used it as the enemy surrounded us, yes. I do not know how viable it is to lay the foundings of a whole strategy on this, but, as I mentionned before, it could prove useful if we find the ghosts' original bodies, as it would make the ghost themselves vanish from our reality."

Vorpal: The Ghost-Blooded tilts her head slightly, her fingers rubbing the tip of her chin. Already her mind is conjuring up possibilities, tactics which could take advantage of the Sidereal's abilities...

"Have you had any luck locating those corpses?"

Ryshassa: "I have... enough. Tending to the remaining troops has been taxing, but I have had time to rest."

Ryshassa takes a deep breath, then allows her hand to fall away from Alexsei's sleeve. She cannot imagine how it must look, clinging that way... it wasn't as if she had no idea of the dangers she would be walking into. But it had been that close. It shook her -- how could it not? A mere moment of delay would have meant his life dwindling to nothing on the floor of that desecrated chapel.

It struck her then, strikes her every time her hands caress and soothe the wounded, as she comes to know each and every nuance of the agony that torments them, embraces their pain as her own: how terribly fragile the corporeal form truly is...

Stop thinking of it now. Help Valencia. Alexsei is alive and well now. Help who you can.

"I must remind you, though, my method of healing is transferrence. But I am no stranger to pain -- nor are you, I am sure."

Alexsei: "I understand we would have to investigate and find where the invaders got their supply of bodies... I would think, if you plan on using this, that this would be something that would need to be looked in with our people in Whiteshield."

Vorpal: "We will have to think about that", Vorpal responds. Closing her eyes for a moment, she brushes a stray strand of hair off her face. "Then there is also the prisoner to interrogate. Perhaps he might know something interesting."

Valencia Silverstar: She looks levelly at the Solar, steel-grey eyes unreadable for the moment. "Indeed, I have borne much of it over the years."

A glance to Alex, shaking her head just a slight bit as if to say 'do not be afraid', and she looks back to Ryshassa. "But pain is fleeting. If you have the reserves available, it will save some of mine, which are more recently tapped."

Vorpal: Crossing her arms once more, Vorpal stands silently, turning to watch with some interest the exchange between Valencia and Ryshassa. She had seen wound-trasferring before, as Alex had used the same method to heal the Pale Angel herself in more than one occasion, but still, this ought to be a sight...

• Ryshassa nods, taking the last comment as an invitation. Her slender fingers are cool upon Valencia's hand, enfolding it gently, if somewhat apologetically for the intimacy. The contact between their flesh quickly warms; through it, the energy of life itself seems to flow, instantaneously mending Valencia's bruises and wounds.
  
  And wounds open anew upon Ryshassa's pale flesh, underneath the dark-hued kimono, blood soaking into the quilted cloth underneath. The pain she receives in exchange is almost... a relief to her. Something tangible, something real she can focus upon instead of possibilities, events that had already been averted.
  
  Throughout all this, Ryshassa's face remains ...unchanged, unreadable, though Valencia can feel her quivering slightly through the contact of her hands before she releases her and steps respectfully away. She smiles then, a much more familiar expression to grace her delicate features, and inclines her head humbly.
  
  "It is done."

Valencia Silverstar: The pain leaves her. It feels a bit different from how it usually would, but the important part is that it is gone. Rubbing one of the spots under her silver-blue leotard, the Windian looks over Ryshy. "My thanks. You will be ok with those? I was rather lucky this time and did not take too many, but still."

Ryshassa: Ryshassa's smile softens considerably at Valencia's concern, but she shakes her head. "Please, do not worry. I will not lie and say it does not hurt. It does -- without a doubt -- but it is part of the calling I have chosen. I will be fine."

"I trust that the rest of you are in good health?" she asks, her violet gaze sweeping her companions inquiringly.

Leonas Du Mistlav: "Well, I could use some healing... and lieutenant Eva, who's not with us, took an even worse blow than the one that came to me." The lieutenant says, clutching his chest, where the cold daggers had gone in... properly staunched and bandaged already under his clothes, but still, quite a wound.

Vorpal: "Fine, thanks", Vorpal says with a dismissive wave of hand. "Do you think you can still heal both lieutenants Leonas and Eva today?"

Ryshassa: "Yes, I believe I can. I will require more rest afterwards, of course... but if I am not mistaken, we are not expecting to continue the attack for a few days yet?"

"Not that we should not be diligent regardless, of course..."

She approaches Leonas, treating him with much the same gentleness and respect as she did Valencia. A single, lingering touch, and his pain disappears in an eyeblink, leaving him comfortably warm. Ryshassa's lips barely tighten as she absorbs the stab wound, another remnant of a struggle valiantly won.

"And... Eva, is it? Where is she now?" the healer asks, allowing herself another deep breath as she acclimates to the added pain.

Leonas Du Mistlav: The soldier smiles, feeling much better now... good as new.

"Oh, Lieutenant Eva is trying to direct the camp, we told her to go to the infirmary, but she would have none of it... that's just her." He shrugs...

Vorpal: "Huh", Vorpal lets out a short laugh. "Commander material, that one. Have someone fetch her here, lieutenant."

Leonas Du Mistlav: "A little too stubborn, if you ask me, what you certainly did not. I'll be back shortly, Pale Angel, Marshall Silverstar." He says, a bow to his superior, and walks out to fetch Eva...

Vorpal: Vorpal archs a regal eyebrow at the lieutenant's comment, but does not responds. Only after the Dragon-Blooded has gone beyond the hearing range does she turn her head over to Valencia. "He, too, is commander material", she says with a mildly-amused tone.

Valencia Silverstar: "They tend to be headstrong like that." Valencia muses, looking back at the rest of the camp. There was, at least, relatively little danger that whoever was reinforcing that fort would attack them there.

And if he did, he would be sorry.

Vorpal: The Ghost-Blooded considers for a moment, then shrugs. "Or perhaps not. Men like that are needed to keep the commanders in their places."

Alexander: "So... now we are left to prepare until the whole army is in place to rush in?"

He asks, eyes a little vacant...

"To go and take Spire back?"

• Ryshassa looks on, not amused as much as... resigned. In this situation, she is a commodity -- or more accurately, her healing is one. The more that survive, the more that can fight on. And the healthier they are, the more effective they will be on the battlefield or in command. It is not simply for the sake of saving their lives, but to grease the engines of war... for the sake of a greater cause.
  
  She gazes down at the ruined spires of Whiteshield from their outlook in the mountains. The healer cannot imagine how many have died there only to be raised in unlife, shaped to do the bidding of their masters. A single death would be one among many... and only those who survive would truly make a difference.
  
  "I would imagine so, Alexander," she murmurs somewhat distractedly. "Another calm before the storm... we must be prepared, both physically... and... otherwise."

Valencia Silverstar: "And the rest." Valencia replies evenly, thinking of what will follow after. How many deathknights may or may not be left.

"It will be easier if the Dark Angel is slitting all their throats, of course."

Vorpal: Vorpal nods her agreement at the others' words. Her eyes, however, are in Ryshassa.

The Ghost-Blooded frowns, her mouth hardening ever so slightly. "Ryshassa", she says aloud, the tone of her voice calm yet inscrutable, "After this meeting is over, I'd have a word with you."

Ryshassa: "Ah..." Ryshassa turns abruptly from the view below, her dark hair whipping through the chill air, the fine strands settling carefully upon her back as her eyes refocus upon Vorpal.

She is surprised by the request, and makes no effort to hide that. They had spoken once before, in a much more relaxed environment, traded some words about themselves and their philosophies in life. What would the Pale Angel wish to speak to her of now?

"Why... yes, of course, you may," she answers, part out of curiosity, part of etiquette... and a little part, perhaps, of dread.

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