by Antar on December 26th, 2011, 10:34 am
In a flash upon his senses, whspered words echoed in the darkness of an ancient underground lake, punctured by the tines of a natural crown of stalactites as below an upraised dais formed of twisting bedrock rose from the center. A shadowy figure, whom he could not see spoke an intonation, that was vexing in its meaning, describing a wish it wanted as it faced a mirror before a hzase of eldritch glow spanned out from the mirror's center, sweeping across all of Alvadas. Or rather, that's what had been shown to him.
A mysterious lake deep under the bowels of the city, six crystalline figures around a pedestal.
His mind took in minor details at the sight, the colorations of the rock, the size of the cavern system the lake was sitting within. All of it spoke to him, as if he was being given another piece of the jigsaw puzzle to the mystery he was trying to solve. The first thing, was that the lake had been underground. The second thing was that the mirror he held was the mirror in the vision, which meant it was directly involved in the konti's prior warning. Which meant something rather drastic reordering of his priorities for the third consequence:
Anyone attempting to misuse, abuse or take this artifice held under his armor was bound to be in a world of hurt. For now he knew that it had to be protected at all costs until he could figure out how it had played a part in the city's destruction.
Whatver this mirror was, it had great potential to be misused, and was excessively dangerous. The terms of his contract with the Ministry of Illusions had brought been cemented with the idea of his limiting such dangers to the city, especially if the figure in his sight had connected to the illusionist he was here to hunt down and destroy.
His mind pondered how deep a place it might have been. Whether he was seeing the past , or one potential future didn't matter. It was a clue. Though by Tanroa, his mind could not anticpate that it was actually seeing the future, he was no diviner, nor soothsaying fortune teller like that konti woman he had run into in the side streets by the colliseum. Nor was he any member of the konti race being 'Called' by Avalis to do something, at least not by what Kamala had said back in the temple in syliras when he asked about preparting for trials ahead. She had offered a bit of advice, as his mind was still locked within the vision the mirror showed him.
Kamalia's advice was: don't resist the changes which need to come when you are Called to do something went hand in hand with the tenants which were instilled in him for completing a job.
The city had brought him here, but where was this, what was it showing now? Or was the city showing him this now or was it the mirror itself? His cynical nature about the city told him not to be decieved by the appearance, and his thirst for knowledge spoke volumes to him; ushering in an even stronger desire to find the true essence of events which lied beneath.
That was what was the most important.
A bit of pressure on his chest hitting him across the chest stopped him mid thoughts, as his frame of view was instantly turned upside down. as his mind snapped back to reality. Above him , with outstretched hands, an unknown shady man-like seemed to have tackled him as a wash of fire passed overhead.
His bleary thoughts couldn't be sure what the man's intentions were, so his body reacted without hesitation, his gauntletted reaching up to grip Alric's throat, to forcefully begin rolling the man off of him. At this exact moment, Antar couldn't tell if the man was an enemy or a friend, so with a trigger his gauntlet's hidden blade sprang out to lay upon the man's throat as Antar gained the upper hand to rest on top of him. Alric, and Antar were face to frace, and the rogue blinked a little as he hissed out an interrogative question. "Friend, or Foe?" But soon enough the answer was apparent as he looked into Alric's eyes, and smelled his breath. His thoughts jumped towards one conclusion, whether this was whether from the man's attempts to defend himself or not with his hypnotism was of no consequence, though he might make an attempt to calm Antar if he wished. For soon enough, the hidden blade would vanish from sight, as with a grunt the rogue pulled Alric back to his feet and half dragged his 'savior towards cover as a slight means of thanks and a verbal apology for the rough treatment. Noth wouldn't necessarily wait around to make idle chatter though. He'd leave him with a fair warning, " Staying in one place like this is tantamount to suicide keep moving , pillar to pillar to keep things between you and that thing. There's something I got to do."
From the corner of his eye the man with the whip tried to attack the golem again, this time he could see the flashes of the charged whip cause undulating lines of power to become visible, protecting its surface. [color=orange]"Petch, shielding!" Alric might notice the rogue cursing before the golem turned back towards Shale to open its mouth, kindling with fire as it began to aim in the colliseum lord's direction. Instinctively calling a ball of res to his hands, Antar popped out of cover long enough to hurl the arcanic fashioned sphere about ten feet in front of Shale, his mind transmuting it to a single large earthen spike to give the man some cover from the coming flames. He wasn't yet skilled enough to creat a whole forest of spikes, though his master Eryss had shown him a few tricks with single ones of varying sizes. The theory was both to evoke and revoke the attractive element of earth at once, 'revoking' by creating a core set of res that stretched upwards, transmuting directly into stone or sand, while the outer layer of res attracted rubble and material from the temple floor to form the shield of the artificial cover he had just made. He had used such things himself before, to hide under a curved wall of earth and stone to let heated flames wash over him, or to allow him to block a hail of arrows.
"Take Cover!"It was temperamental solution at best, but would at least divert much of the flames from Shale if the man hurried to rush towards the base of the artificial stalagmite. He'd probably still be burned but he'd be alive if he was quick enough. Shale seemed the type to be quick on his feet. His tactical sense screamed at him to conserve numbers and begin taking charge of the small group to give them a chance at staying alive. From the shadows on the far wall, he could see the man he had followed inside, the dhani, though he didn't know it. If Shale survived, he'd hear Antar's words, shouting over the flickering fires, "Get to higher ground or keep circling! But whatever you do: keep moving from cover to cover! I'll try to get the shield down!"
The first tactical rule of thumb which any archer followed was apparent in such a place. 'Take the high ground.'
Scanning the area, his eyes spotted an embankment of rubble edging up towards the ruined pallisade of a second story loft with pews of glass sitting in them, Noth made his decision. Launching himself forward, and at an angle to go past the golem his feet vaulted him up the rubble pile with all the speed he could muster. Vaulting from the top of the rubble to grasp the ledge with his hands, his arms would ache as he pulled himself up over the lip of the broken ledge. He rolled quickly into cover behind a stout pillar, of heavy marble, ordained with scrawled glyphs that he could not fathom as he risked a glance back towards the temple atrium where the mechanical golem was still upon his rampage, attacking those it could see or sense by whatever means possible. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he tore into the pocket of djed he kept for himself as an 'ever growing reserve.' The feeling of lightning boiling in his stomach as it made its pilgrimage to his hands was almost tantamount to having a conversation with an old friend you could never quite trust.
The djed flow began to cause the Res to weep from his palms, letting the transluscent substance boil over the back rim of his guantlets to gather above the second loft's pews, increasing in a steady measure until a large blob , seeming like a soap bubble from afar in the flickering fires could be seen. With his will alone, he sent it arcing over the balcony to splash to the temple floor below. Flowing across the battered stone like a giant amoeba undergoing mitosis the Res split into two masses, the first mass rushing ahead to spread thinly upon one of the few spaces of open floor between himself and the golem. In his mind the focus glyph and certainty of it's potential makeup surged towards the res, Both simultanously transmuting directly to glyphs of hardened stone, and cohesively bonding to the attractive element of earth around it, highlighting the creation in a secondary ring of crusted earth, flash hardened into the image his mind forecast with the focus glyph ready for storage.
Glyphing with earth reimancy, formed of res which bent to the wielders mind was a cheap, quick, and dirty way to glyph. It was very rare for such a glyph to last more then a day or so as a trap, less then an hour usually, even when covered under fine dust. He had learned that on Sunberth's roads during that time they had hunted slavers.
But for now, it would suffice his needs.
The second mass formed the meta - element of lava, it's core Res being transmuted in two external layers the outer element of stone, the inner forged of fire. Reaching high like a sputtering snake of lava, the creation of long hours of practice arced high like a dolphin through the waves, to come crashing down upon the focus.
It flared brightly with power, as the construction encapsulated the torrent of Res. The trap was set, now it was only a matter of dealing with the golem itself.
Breathing thrice to steady himself before stopping his indrawn breath,, in the same manner he prepared for a quick shot with an arrow, Antar drew his bow and let his Auristics come to the forefront of his perceptions. Looking at the golem with his Second sight was almost blinding, for it was a mechanical monstrousity forged of magic yet he looked all the same. He had too, he was putting everything he had into this ploy. He didn't have time to explain to any of the other three within the temple , but if any of them could have seen where the golem was in relation to the trap, surely they would understand. Even Shale, who he had diverted most of the fiery breath from with an earthen spike formed from desperation. His master Eryss, had ground into him since day one, that with such a paltrid ability for shielding he was still developing, that a wall of earth might suit better to ward off the physical damages of heat and fire. He only hoped the whip bearing man might understand his tactics, regarding his last words before climbing up here to one of the temple's broken second level lofts.
But such didn't matter now, all that mattered was his Sight.
His bow, and this arrow he was fashioning now. While his Sight was active, the surging electrical boil traversing from his stomach to his shoulders and down to his gauntleted knuckles weeped more fluidic bits as he prepared to let the others delay the creature long enough for him to make this attack count. In his Sight about the Golem , scintillating lines of power, forming a coarse shield, waivered and stretched. As the protective magical encasing spun about the monstrousity's arms and legs,leaving small gaps as the magical power of the automata surged to reinforce the shielding to allow it to react to threats from above, and below.
He surmised a series of simultaneous attacks from multiple directions would be enough to break it down, so long as they stressed the shield in different ways: both physically and magically as the mad creation bashed its way around the rocks towards a few of the others.
Aiming slightly to the shaft of his arrow, he let his auristics guide his targeting, trying to time and judge distance and events for the arrow's strike to coincide with a weak point of the shield as his mind buckled down and bent its will to the final component of the attack. On both sides of his arrow's line, long thin needle spears of hardened stone were transmuted , three foot in length, and less then a quarter inch in diameter, hardened into points. Each one of the long pins hovering in the air as his mind bade their central cores forward as they matched the power and speed of his other projectile.
He was an archer now, in his prime, fighting a distant target and the moment of release was instinctually decided upon.
The arrow was loosed, the throngs of razor sharp stone of a hundred tinier needles were sent in tandem with the arrows course. At the edge of his zone of control, full transmution to stone occurred making them harder then even his normal arrow. The cascading attack sought as one mass to stress and puncture the largest surface layer of the shield as possible in an attempt to burst the mechanical man's defenses like a bubble. If the coordinated strike of both Res, and the physical penetration of the arrow was successful , the shield would falter as it was torn apart like weak rotten flesh lanced by a hundred and one tiny claws of a elemental demon. If it didn't, then they'd be in more trouble later, unless he could get the automaton to stand above the trap.
Shutting down his Aura Sense the moment his attack was initiated, the rogue was already on the move. The tactical tenant of moving to a safer position had been ingrained in him early to the point it was an instinctive reaction. If there was a choice between staying still in an uncertain clime, he'd always choose to go. Running fully, the rogue made a flying leap from the balcony; aiming his falling body towards one of the larger rubble piles, intent upon rolling down it into deeper protective cover. In mid-leap his peripheral vision noticed the exact moment of his strike crashing against the golem's shields...
The impact was unpleasant, somewhat helped, and hindered by his armor as he rolled to the bottom and almost completely out of sight of the golem. Subconsciously holding his breath as the heat flash passed above him, Antar would take a moment to sputter and cough before 'peeking out of cover again. In counterpoint to his heart beating in his ears from the adrenaline surge, he'd fail to realize his voice screaming, "Lead it to the trap! Lead it to the trap!" towards the three others in the temple.
Only adrenaline, had failed to make him notice he forgot to tell anyone else the trigger word to activate the reimantically stored attack designed to swamp the creature's joints with the corrosive melting elements.
"I am the Shadow and the smoke in your eyes, I am the ghost that hides in the night."~Back, but slow.