(CLOSED) Tweedy and Mordor Only

/ By mordortenebris [+Watch]

Replies: 10 / 95 days 17 hours 13 minutes 42 seconds

Allowed Users

  1. [Allowed] tweedy



Reply

You don't have permission to post in this thread.

Roleplay Responses

[center [pic https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/4f/3c/684f3cda8d80630a390ea18952f1e86b.jpg]]
Viath's shoulders hunched as she heard a scrape near her, having shivered mostly in frustration at the noise, all the [i noise], and all this desperation.

She felt that book calling to her again. It knew the answers, it knew things that could help her. Viath didn't dare look at her bag, right now, trying to think of solutions.

The woman flinched when she heard the voice so close now, the deposit of a hefty weight beside her. Her eye cut to him, gaze scathing and wary.

"[+red You've assisted enough,]" the woman responded, voice low as she kept her attention warily on the creature above her. Even as she had fueled him with that spell, it was for use, and she assumed the alliance, however brief, was now over.

"[+red You've almost killed Melchior,]" she hissed, keeping her hands in constant contact with the animal's bloodied flank. She was reluctant to release her hold on him, worried that once she did, the flank she would return it to wouldn't be heaving, trying, whining like it was now. It would be eerily still, and relaxed. But, ultimately, it had to happen.

Her lips tightly pursed, Leviath's gaze shifted to her satchel and with one hand yanked the empty-looking item over from the ground towards her. She avoided the book, keeping the thing she had in mind at the forefront. Soon the glass came in contact with her hand, and from within the bag was pulled a long-necked bottle inside which was a thick looking, green liquid.

"[+red Waste of one hundred and fifty gold?]" she murmured to herself, hesitating as she realized she needed two hands for the cork. "[+red Gods be damned...]" she growled, casting a glance at the minotaur, and then at his oddly formed hands. He probably couldn't do it...
  Tweedy / 49d 15h 4m 12s
Dormarin watched in content, surprised to see himself standing quite well as the fog cleared with fleeing Night Stalkers. Although pleased for the time being, his grin turned into a sudden, sad emotion mixed with a hint of rage. As the fog cleared up more, with an unnatural, to say the least swiftness, more and more Faun bodies became visible to the Minotaur.

[+orange "No... It cannot be,"] he staggered, falling onto his knees, looking into the skies with uplifted, teary eyes. [+orange "No!"] His cry was surely heard throughout the city, or at least by the inhabitants that were left to hear it.

Keep it in. A Minotaur can't cry, he can't expose himself. All he had were his brotheren in arms, and now they were gone. A hand raised up to his eye, he caught a glance of the strange, white-haired woman attending fretfully to her wolfhound, immediately dragging himself to his bloodied hooves, an ever-so slight shake in his step.

The Minotaur was shook, but who wouldn't? It was so sudden... So, unexpected. And the thought of the Night Stalkers, formerly territorial creatures, raiding a village? Something wasn't right. A darker force was at hand.

Dormarin made his way over to the two, dropping to a single knee as a hand was placed over the hounds side, taking a long deep breath. He was, after all, still it an outraged state, or coming out of it.

[+orange "My most sincere apologies, Ma'am,"] Apologized the great Minotaur, a deep, hoarse voice. At that he stood again, watching again over the battle-field in any signs of movement. [+orange "How may I be of assistance?"]
[center [pic https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/4f/3c/684f3cda8d80630a390ea18952f1e86b.jpg]]
Viath froze, body twisting tight as a hand closed around her throat. Vicious threat and wariness leapt into her one eye, snapping towards the minotaur. Her hands snapped to his malformed ones over her throat, pulling, digging her fingernails in. The air thickened with the snap of magic humming like electricity in it.

Even in the condition he was in, Melchior's eyes on the situation, the white dog snapped into a growl, raising his head and swinging it towards the creature. His shoulders were bunched, lips drawn back over teeth and muzzle bloodstained from licking his wounds. He looked like he would leap, or try to.

He shifted, the growl twisting into a whine as Viath was dragged upwards, grinding out a wheeze as all of her weight was deposited on her head holding the rest of her body. "[+red I'm gonna- fucki- kill you if you don't-]"

But she was released almost immediately after that, slumping to her knees again and glaring at the creature as he turned his back to her and left the warding dome. She pushed the edge of her hand across her mouth to clear the spit that had welled there, trying to breathe.

With that she crawled back over to Melchior, the dog, and pressed her hands to him, bemoaning his wounds. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she had enough magic left to heal him. He was bleeding, he was crying, and [i looking] at her like that. Fix it. Make it better. She didn't see anything else.

The shrieks of the Nightstalkers were drawing back now, bodies flitting inside the edge of the mists. And as it drew back, so did they, especially as the Minotaur was fighting again, bellowing as he did. The creatures fell back, watching from the edges of the mists, lurking. Shapes amongst the trees, looking like humanoid trees themselves. Some dove into the tree trunks themselves, vanishing completely.

"[+red Melchior- Mel,]" Viath rasped, feeling her throat choking up. Her coat was abandoned somewhere, her jacket and gloves straining as she dropped her head with a hiss of frustration. She shot a glare back in the direction of the Minotaur's vague direction, eyes unseeing and flitting, and unfocused. She was paying attention to the animal on his side. She tried to focus her magic again, feeling how depleted it was, how much she wasn't able to summon and tried to push [i some] threads into him.
  Tweedy / 59d 15h 40m 39s
Dormarin was in a semi-conscious state, barely hearing or feeling anything that was going on. The world felt as if it were in slow motion as a shaky set of hands were placed over his abdomen. He, though not being able to move at this point, attempted a roar that ended in a rather childish squeak as a surge ran throughout his body, his ears and eyes suddenly coming alive as he became fully aware of his surroundings. "Where am I?" He demanded, his right hand shooting forward, gaining a tight grip on Viath's throat.

He scanned his surroundings, standing to his feet dragging Viath up as well. "Wait... You, you saved me?" He stuttered upon piecing together the puzzle and remembering as much as he could. He dropped Viath, clenching his fists with a rage unknown.

And, in response to her command, "With pleasure."

He marched forward determinedly, a strange feeling passing through his body as he left the shield. This was round two, and though he knew most likely his last, the Minotaur was honor bound and knew he'd have to repay his life debt. A strange pact of sorts, him being as a loyal friend who would give up his life for he/she that saved his life.

He was weaponless, but he still put on a show as two Night Stalkers approached. The fog was, all things considered, a fading very fast. This gave Dormarin the upper hand, the card of sight, if you will.

The Minotaur, finding a new strength, landed a solid blow to the Night Stalker on the left while putting up an arm to deflect the attack from the right. Sharp claws dug into his hide, quickly turning around and back-fisting the Night Stalker, who he immediately dropped down upon and punished three top mount slams directly to the face, and what was now easily the most uneasy display of brains one has seen.

"Come... Come on, Bastards! I have plenty left in me."
[center [pic https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/4f/3c/684f3cda8d80630a390ea18952f1e86b.jpg]]
Viath's eyes snapped to the foreign voice coming from their periphery. More time. She still needed more time. Eyes turned around beyond the barrier to see the shadowy shapes moving- the dead twigs and branches sticking out of their bodies like antlers, the bright, empty eyes. Long fingers pressed and prodded at the barrier.

"[+red More time.]" the half-elf muttered. That book was calling again. It had the answers, it [i knew] it had wormed its way into her thoughts.

"[+red F-f-]" her fingers clenched, looking at Melchior whining on his side. "[+red fuck me.]" and with that those fingers uncurled again, pressing to the sides of their head. Who were they again? What was happening? "[+red Mel?]" No, he was still wounded.

There was a crunch next to her, snapping her out of the swirl of thoughts to see the bright smear of blood on black, cloven hooves. "[+red Idea.]" It leapt behind her eyes in two images. He was already doing it, so why not help?

It was one pace to shift her weight on hands and knees to reach him. She heard him grumbling to himself, gathering the spark in her again. It was wearing thin, but she felt she had one last big one in her before she would be barely able to light something on fire after this. The air gathered, like skirts in a fist, ready to be thrown in anger. It made her think of thunderstorms the way chills would run down, feverish, and wash over her back, electrifying the air around them.

"[+red You will,]" she said, pressing her hands over the malformed hands already over wounds in the large abdomen.

It didn't heal, necessarily, but it stabilized. Dead things didn't bleed anyways. It was a cold energy that the magic pushed into the creature, Viath's eyes glinting as they leaned into the motion and into the spell. "[+red Now you must fight.]"

The magic snapped just like the breaking of a thunderstorm- hot, humid, heavy electricity that had gathered now snapped in a cold discharge in the air, chilling it as it pushed fell breath into the minotaur. Knowing these creatures, she could only hope the frenzy it would push him into wouldn't turn back to bite her. Magic was like that sometimes.
  Tweedy / 60d 16h 14m 13s
Dormairin let out a yelp of sorts, not expecting whatever he landed on to have been so hard, or flat at that. Though not very aware of his surroundings, he was conscious enough to realize he had slid onto a living being. Insistingly, he immediately grasped for the legs of the unknown, familiar smelling being before it snapped away.

Hearing the noise of one- a female voice, he turned to see a white-haired woman seemingly attending to the wolf-hound. Then, presently, an unknown substance formed enclosed him, but not all of him.

Was he dead? No, not dead... Paradise? Thoughts clouded his mind, frustrating and confusing him even more so. He shook his head violently, an invisible steam emitting from his bleeding, battered snout.

He tried to muster the strength to get up again before he felt a desperate tugging at his arms. Soon after a scratching, tearing pain at his feet. Blood filled his eyes as he kicked and roared and flailed, struggling to cling to the less painful pulls.

Finally, out of luck and nothing more, he caught the Night Stalker in which groped at his feet off guard, yanking his foot back while it held onto it. With the Night Stalker brought unto it's chin, the Minotaur quickly lifted it's hoof as high as possible at the moment before letting his heavy leg do the work for him upon impact with the unruly beast.

After this, Dormarin quickly gained leverage and pushed back with a strong ferocity, in due time bringing him into the invisible , shield.

He glanced around once inside, his consciousness fading fast, and his adrenaline failing him after his desperate fight under the shield. "Awake...Awake. Must-"
  Dormarin Tekus Neozin / MordorTenebris / 64d 19h 50m 6s
[center [pic https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/4f/3c/684f3cda8d80630a390ea18952f1e86b.jpg]]
Viath's eyes snapped wide as she saw what was at one point Melchior shooting ahead of her, to him flying back with a strike from a great axe. Their mouth opened in a strangled cry, "[+red [i No!]]" Confused, panicked immediately as the shrike wail that the dog had yanked from him split the air.

And now the scent of blood was in that same air for her, the half-elf swallowing thickly. She had drawn near to something bleeding, and now Mel was hurt. A tightness entered their body they weren't prepared for- shuddering and tightening under the emotional stress and [i anger] at seeing her beloved companion struck down so blindly.

That was a second before they slipped and fell, in the growing shadow of a large creature falling upon them. On reflex, the mage's hands went up and between them- as Dormarin would find- a pad of energy arose; flat, unforgiving; and it was upon that which the minotaur collapsed as if against a coffee table. Flat. [i Bonk.] And then slumped, sliding off, against the elf's black boots.

The black clad mage frowned, lips twisting, at the bleeding body that slumped towards them. Viath had certainly heard the words- [i the last of the minotaur]- which wasn't correct, right? But they said nothing, mind elsewhere.

Viath rolled away from the creature, scrambling to their hands and knees. Around them, the swirling, immaterial shrieks and sounds were still whirling past in the mists.

Pushing over to the animal slumped on his side and panting/whining pitifully, eyes sliding to the halfbreed as they scrambled over to him.

"[+red Oh no, oh no.]" came worried words, in common, from a humanoid throat in amidst the mess. Hands shaking, Viath's thoughts raced, mind flying immediately to the book in their bag. Something there? Would it help? No. No time. They rubbed their palms together quickly to warm them, queuing some energy, getting it going, warming the blood. She needed to do something to stabilize Melchior.

Something snatched at her hair, the half-elf's head snapping back with the feeling, tears shooting into their eyes with the feeling of torn strands.

Find purity. Focus. Find the words. She needed more [i time] to focus. There was too much going on between the groans of the minotaur, the distressing whines of Melchior and the shrieks of the creatures.

The energy, like static inside of her, gathered and thickened the air around them. Snapping through the hairs on her arms, the follicles on her scalp, and standing up the dog's, anything close's hairs with the energy, Viath tried to keep her eyes from flickering to the shapes in the corners of her eyes- disappearing as soon as they were seen- to a minimum.

And with a snap, the energy widened all of a sudden in an arc as it pooled around them, pushing away the entities it came in contact with. It was magic that swelled for a moment, ballooning over the immediate area and coating a part of the minotaur in its wake to form a barely visible, filmy membrane that the wisps of the bodies of Nightwalkers batted against and fell away.

But with the parts of the creature that weren't under the canopy of the energy- his feet- their hands found him and started to tug. Pulling in fleeting, single grabs. He was heavy, so it took some effort. Soon he would be pulled out of it if he didn't do something.
  Tweedy / 64d 20h 41m 56s
Dormarin, in a rather panicked state, immediately challenged the barks and growls with a loud, intimidating war-cry raising his battle-axe in a steady position while stepping back and bracing.

He was, of course, in a last-resort kind of mood, attacking everything in sight. An attack like this had never happened, and the stakes were much higher here then in drills.

He spun, releasing his left-hand grip on the battle-axe and landing a upper-cut jab on the lower side of the wolfhound, sending it flailing backwards.

"Human flesh..." He thought, terribly confused and winded.

There it was. One fatal mistake and everything can change. The tide of a battle can come down to one decision. He turned towards the smell, leaving his back completely exposed.

Though one cannot blame him for this, it was quite a foolish choice.

A noise of sorts was emitted from the great Minotaur as a large, curved blade pierced his armor and hide. He was lifted off of the ground for a subtle moment as he gripped the sword in which had gone through his stomach.

"The last of the Minotaurs...What a shame..."

He was then dropped, and he struggled to keep footing. He groaned, his leverage failing him as he fell helplessly onto what seemed a white haired figure.
  Dormarin Tekus Neozin / mordortenebris / 70d 17h 4m 54s
[center [pic https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/4f/3c/684f3cda8d80630a390ea18952f1e86b.jpg]]
[right [size10 art by NeexSethe on Deviantart]]
The mist had thickened considerably before Leviath realized it, good eye moving up over the trees around her as the free hand that wasn't holding the book open in front of her moved up to adjust the patch over her right eye.

The mage hummed a bit in her throat, shoulders shifting in the long, dark coat set on her shoulders. The sound of footsteps beside her was comforting, the soft plodding of the animal beside her. Soft panting from a long muzzle comforted her as she heard Melchior snuffle and shake his head, ears flapping softly next to her. The wolfhound's pale, slender body wound through the brush as she moved in the general direction that her intuition was taking her. Or, well, the road was taking her. Nice thing about wandering around in populated places like these was there were plenty of quiet hikes to take while slowly trying to gather information on your ultimate quest so you could walk your energetic hunting dog.

But a distant, hazy shriek tore through the woods around her. Viath snapped the tome shut in her hands with a quiet [i poomfh], eyes snapping up to see the white dog had stopped, a low growl of a whine pulling from him, eyes up and ears alert.

The woman pushed her hair behind her ear. She had cut some of it off since then, pushed back into a wad of secured hair at the back of her head. The weight taken off of it bringing up windblown strands in number about her ears and falling over the unused side of her face. Amazing what messy hair and an abomination of symmetry would do to increase your overall mystery.

Her gloves squeaked softly against the leather of the book as her feet seemingly fearlessly bore her closer to the sound. Melchior next to her kept pace, sanguine eyes forward and head low, despite the at ease image the open, lolling pant gave him.

Presently another distant, yet incredibly close- or was it perhaps just quiet?- little screech whizzed by her ear. Viath spun, hair whipping into her good eye, watering it. That had to be carried by a body. It sounded like it came from a humanoid throat. But nothing moved that fast. Nothing human. Nothing elven. Not solid, like that. Were these fey? She was high enough in the hills that their domain should have fallen behind. The king throwing his weeks long, lavish, deviant parties and draping himself about, perniciously bored even then.

So what was this then?

Another cry was heard, this time hoarse and largess. Viath's head turned towards that sound, able to recognize a bellow when she could. Perhaps there was someone up ahead. It was hard to tell in the mists- which again were odd coming on high noon now. The sun should have burned this off by now, especially in the hills- but that mattered less. Safety in numbers, and all. Viath sped up, tucking the heavy book in her bag, with her dog at her heels before he would lope ahead and then stand, alert, and wait for her to catch up.

A leather grip went up to her overcoat, gripping it about her shoulders as she kept up the definitely relaxed jog she had going on. Were these what she was suspecting them to be? No visual confirmation yet. But that didn't take much, and she would rather not be close enough to see what she supposed this was.

Suddenly an entire mast of a being barreled out of the mist at her, wielding an ax and a mighty set of horns. Viath's eye blew wide, fear breaking over her face as her boots immediately slid on the damp earth and she stumbled as she tried to both stop and switch directions.

A very inelegant "[+red [i Geagh!]]" was torn from the woman, Melchior behind her barking a shrike, confused sound, edged in a growl as he bound towards what had made his mistress cry out.

Viath's boots eventually slid out from under her as she twisted, falling on her hip, and flung an arm up. "[+red Whoa- wha- hey! Desist!]" White hair littered her face, one eye stretched wide towards the figure above her.
  Tweedy / 81d 15h 8m 24s
Dormarin, a rather large Minotaur, watched with a sharp eye, scanning the area carefully as a thick fog rolled in dangerously fast. "Ready p-p-positions. This isn't n-normal," he stated as numerous guards, Faun ones at that, outside and on the wall aimed their bows or raised their shields.

The fog's speed increased, passing them before a single Faun could draw an arrow. Dormarin sniffed the air, his battle-ax at the ready. His grip on it tightened as he heard movement, and also as he realized that he couldn't see any Faun Guards around him.

Before he could asses the situation, an arrow hit his left shoulder, piercing his armor before his thick hide stopped it. "Cease fire!" He ordered roughly, looking behind him where the wall was.

"Archers, stand down. We will have to m-many misfirings," He once again yelled up to the wall, confused as to why his first order heeded no response.

He growled, constantly spinning and stepping back. "Show yourselves!" he stammered, a quiet shake in his voice. In response to this he felt a blunt impact on his back. He spun around instantly and swung his weapon in an overhead swing only to find the grey void once again.

He examined the area, finding a dead body of a Faun on the ground in front of him. He bent down low to get a better look at it, revealing the armor and weaponry of an archer.

He dropped to his hands and knees, listening for the heartbeat of the unfortunate warrior. To his dismay, the Faun was neither breathing us giving a pulse. Dormarin breathed heavily, expecting the worst at this point. Slowly picking himself up, the large beast picked itself up as it cautiously scanned his surroundings to the best of his ability. Upon standing to his feet, a sharp, stinging pain enclosed on him, following the complete inability to see from his left eye. Shocked, he stumbled backwards as he fought for leverage on the steep incline behind him. Finally gaining his footage, he slowly moved forward again.

He was given a short amount of time to address the situation, figuring that he was surrounded and quick movements would most likely be more effective. He quietly crouched and placed his ax on the ground, not bothering to open himself up to attack by placing it on his back. "W-where are you?" He demanded, though in no real position to do so. Dormarin pulled his sword from it's sheath in an instant, wielding it with to hands as he secured every step he took.

Though he did his best not to show signs of weakness in battle, he still gnashed his teeth and groaned in pain after the loss of his eye, hindering both his combat and moral.

Dormarin stood ready to strike at any moment, catching slight movement to his right as something seemingly ran passed him. He reacted quickly, meeting it with a horizontal strike.

The speed of the creature and force of the impact cut deeply into it's chest area, nearly cutting it in half. Dormarin immediately picked up the squirming monster by the throat, observing the face of the creature intently. "N-Nightwalkers?" He stammered confusedly. "well, that's very inte-" he stopped abruptly upon hearing more movement from behind.

Dropping the NightWalker, he placed his hand firmly back on his hilt. He moved forward shakily, now dizzied by continued concentration on sight and his now none-existent one. Nonetheless he approached the Nightwalkers daringly.

"You can't hide," The Minotaur stated boldly. Dormarin listened as his words were carried in an echo, not a sound to disrupt it. "Can we?" An eerie, almost Demonic sounding voice sounded directly in his ear.

Dormarin shoved it with his shoulder as it once again disappeared into the thick nothingness.
  MordorTenebris / 81d 14h 36m 35s
1

All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our
Privacy Policy, Terms of Service and Use, User Agreement, and Legal.
Roleplay
1