By Fire or Ice

[Tea]

Tea Monolayre sighed and brushed her spidery fingers through her long silky scarlet locks. Or she'd been told they were scarlet. Red, blue, green, whatever--it was all gray to her.

Her thick lips frowned slightly as she gazed down her next big step to Avaren: the famed Ruins of Aesir. Rumors stated it used to be an acclaimed magical city, floating over the continent once upon a time. Apparently, it came tumbling down like Icarus after it reached too high. It was on this point that all the rumors differed--the gods cursed such an ambitious thing, the mages' magic dried up, the magic city was conquered, etc. To an outsider like this, facts like that weren't too important, even though they could certainly be intriguing.

She adjusted the strap of her cowskin satchel and pulled at the collar of her cheap faded peasant's shirt. Her skin felt like it was on fire. Wasn't it freezing temperatures out here?

The nineteen-year-old woman glanced at the snow dotting the ground.

Well, shit.

She'd already stuffed her traveling cloak in her bag. Was she going to freeze to death or melt like a wax candle first?

Tea walked deeper into the ruins, breathing heavily and glancing around cautiously. She stumbled now and then, not at all graceful or silent like her typical self. Her boots scuffled through the snow and debris as she steadily made her way to the center of the once-upon city.

Her violet eyes flickered to the caved-in houses and collapsed architecture. It must've really sucked for whomever was in this place when it came crashing down, mages or not.

She clunked her worn satchel down onto the stone path. A battered broadsword was strapped to its side.

Everything felt so... heavy...

Sweat dripped down face and neck, making her tawny shirt moist. Tea exhaled and inhaled quickly. Her air formed a nice little cloud around her face, so she knew it wasn't as hot as it felt. She tipped over into a ancient wall. The cold felt nice against her pale, blistering skin.

She slumped down to the ground as she struggled to maintain consciousness, shivering as the cold caressed her bare burning arms. She crossed her limbs, tucking her numb fingers between her abdomen and forearms.

Her peculiar eyes lost their focus as the fever took over. Where was her god damn escort anyhow?

[Damian]

The air was cold and the sky was getting dark. Baron Rivendare made his way through the rubble of the city. Dark whispers told him that life had entered the necropolis. Rivendare, upon his deathly steed began moving more swiftly the sound of hooves stone echoed through the silent streets of the dead city. He spotted her, and got off of his horse, and followed the girl.

He was as silent as death and he watch her progress. The cold was weakening her, and that fever she had was making things even worse it looked as though she wouldn't last long. Finally she leaned against what was left of a wall and slid to the ground. Her body wouldn't last too much longer. So he approached her, his cold eyes looking at her with remorse. So unfair was life.

"Allow me to end your suffering, and cure you of your life." He said as he took his blade from its place at his side. It would be done swiftly. "And I will open your eyes to the truth." He said as he thrust his blade at her heart.

[Adelay]

The undead's blade was struck by a single arrow and a resounding ring echoed through the night's sky. It's intent was to disarm, but if it could simply knock it off course and get the attacker's attention it would be acceptable. The source of the errant missile was a lone tan-skinned Elf with a pair of copper and gold goggles over his eyes and another arrow knocked into his Cherrywood finished Longbow. This one instead was aimed at the undead's head.

"I knew these ruins were rife with the Undead, but I was unaware they were filled with cowards as well." Adelay called out, challenging the monster. The Archer was simply out scouting the area for a mission he had gotten himself hired onto. To simply observe and make notes of where creatures seemed to congregate, where there may be traps or unsafe terrain, and whatnot. He certainly wasn't expecting to play the dashing hero tonight, but fate can make fools of us all every now and again.

[Damian]

The baron's blade was knocked a side and the tip buried in the brick wall that the girl was leaning on. He pulled the blade back. Looking down he saw the broken arrow that had had hi his blade. He picked it up as he listened to the life form behind him speak. "Cowardice? I feel no fear. Death stole that much from me years ago." He said turning to face the elf. The broken arrow was no longer broken but mended, brought back to life if you will.

Behind him a skeletal figure climbed over the wall. It held a bow in its hand and a shortsword was sheathed at its side. Rivendare handed the creature the arrow, which now seemed to glow with a dark aura. "Return to sender." He said calmly and without hesitation the Skeletal archer took the arrow knocked it, pulled and fired aiming at the elf's heart. The Arrow was cursed with undeath if it hit its mark it's victim would be as alive as the skeleton that fired the arrow

[Adelay]

Trying to beat an Elf with an Archer? Please. Adelay was almost insulted as he deftly rolled out of the way. Though, he couldn't help but notice the way the first Undead was able to imbue the arrow with it's negative energy. Not surprising, but still interesting to see someone who wasn't a member of his clan with a similar ability as him. He then quickly readjusted his aim on the original Undead and proceeded to charge his knocked arrow with a spell of his own. The Elven runes carved into the shaft began to glow a radiant white as the arrow hummed like a wonderful choir.

"Lida inorum saenes!" Adelay roared his battlecry as he loosed his arrow. It streaked through the air like a shooting star towards his target. Of course an Elf's skill with a longbow was known far and wide, though this arrow needn't actually strike the target directly for them to feel its sting when the arrow bursts with Arcane energy.

[Damian]

Damian's steed darted in front of the arrow with unnatural speed The arrow smashed into a thick plate that covered the horse's front shoulder. The Horse was knocked over as its shoulder was dislocated and his foreleg broke in two. "Looks like my horse will need to be put down." The skeleton that was next to him cackled an unholy laugh as it dropped the bow and drew its sword. He said walking toward the horse. He lifted his palm toward the horse. Its leg bone, which was already exposed, mended and its shoulder popped back into place as it got back up.

Behind and around the elf a few other lesser undead had made their way over the rubble and was beginning to close in. Rivendare Climbed onto his steed. "Tis, my turn to attack." He said Making the horse charge. His blade in one hand lowered to slash at the arrow slinging forest dweller.

[Tea]

Something issued some really twisted word's that washed over Tea's ears like eerily out of tune music. Her dazed eyes glanced up at him. How did she ever make it this far, as sick as she was? Hell, she couldn't even understand anything without effort. At the thrust of a steel blade, her awareness perked to attention. Her left hand rose by reflex to smack the flat of the blade aside, but it moved away from her without even her touch. An echo of weapon against weapon rang through the air, and the nasty blade shot into the wall at her left.

Her hand drooped back to her side.

Then, there were arrows and a light show and walking corpses and all sorts of nonsense.

Tea was going to be really pissed if she were hallucinating all of this.

A horse with horns managed to get itself blasted by a swift glow stick, and it toppled over--before sticking its bones all back into place like a simple house of cards and popping up like a dandelion in the spring. Something about that was just not right.

She calmly wiped her sweaty palms against the battered cloth of her pants, as she slowed her breathing down and quieted it as much as she could... And, really, that wasn't much. If she were fighting, then she'd be seriously screwed. Thus, the point of hiring an escort in the first place. Luck was not on her side, was it?

As her slender fingers curled around the hilt of her broadsword, her violet eyes flickered up to the assailant... and all of other peo--

Oh. So that's what was wrong. They were all dead. Excellent.

That first dead guy jumped on his horned horse and charged toward someone else with an enthusiastic amount of blood lust. Tea stood up silently, resting the sheath of her sword against her back with the strap crossed over her left shoulder. Her tired feet panged unhappily, but they would live. Probably.

She wasn't sure what was going on, but she figured she could at least try to not get herself killed too early on.

Tea adjusted her balance, focusing it on her roots as she put a foot and a half of space behind her for a bit of versatility if she really had to draw her blade at all. She wouldn't get far running, especially gasping as she was. The wall could at least provide a barrier of sorts from one side.

She calmed her breaths, quietly raising her right hand to her sword as she attempted to wait out this mess. The handle felt wonderfully cool...

Tea listened carefully over the noisy throbbing of her heart for anyone--pardon, anything--that came too close. She figured those goons over yonder could keep themselves busy for quite a while more.

[Adelay]

"Damn, where did that horse come from?" Adelay cursed in his mind after watching the creature topple over in defense of his target. This was no typical undead warrior, he was putting on quite a show, to be sure. The Elf charged and knocked another arrow, watching the monster reconstruct its mount and get it up to its hooves again. It was then, something caught Adelay's keen ears. A scrabbling of sorts all about as more skeletons were moving to surround him. This thing had the mindless masses of Aesir under its command. Not good, but not terrible either. Skeletons were slow, weak. Adelay could pick them off piecemeal at range, or at least clear out a lot at once if they got close from one of his magic-infused arrows.

Then the leader mounted up and charged at the Elf. With that, Adelay lurched forward and fell prone to avoid the swipe of the Undead's sword. As the horse thundered past, Adelay flipped over and kipped up to his feet. He aimed and launched his magical missile at the rider's back. As the arrow rocketed towards its target again, Adelay looked back to the girl he was protecting. She was struggling to stand, much less hold the hefty Broadsword in her hands. What was she doing all the way out here if she was in such condition?

"Please try to hang on, Miss! I promise I will get you out of here safely." He called out to her, beginning to close the gap between them as his attention returned to the mounted warrior.

[Ialarin]

His new client had a strange choice of friends. Keeping a steady blue-gray eye on the fighters, he approached the woman. He held little doubts about her identity: that flame-red hair marked her as the Monolayre woman he'd been hired to guard. Why they had to meet here of all places was beyond him, but he never questioned a potential client's orders.

The archer called out to the woman, promising to help her. Ialarin's face remained empty of emotion, his slightly windswept coal black hair the only unruffled thing about him. Guarding the woman was his job, to be sure. It didn't matter, though. The archer could fend off the... other thing, and he could assist the redhead. Stupid of the guy to call attention to her, though. The guard slid closer, his lack of bulky armor keeping his steps quiet.

"...Lady," he started, voice quiet, before he caught sight of her hand on the hilt of her sword. Last thing he wanted to do was surprise her and end up getting sliced himself. The tall male stayed where he was, just out of range, only dedicated self-discipline keeping his own hand from straying to the blade at his hip. If he had to, he could move fast enough to block any incoming attacks, and that was enough.

"....We gotta get out of here, Lady." Slate-blue strayed again to the skeleton-being. "....It's not safe." If that wasn't obvious enough. Was she likely to even come with him, though? While he had her description, she might not have his -- but that's what the password was for.

He glanced sidelong at her, and spoke in a voice barely above a murmur, loud enough for her ears only.

"Just because you're not paranoid..."

[Tea]

"...doesn't mean they aren't out to get you," finished the Monolayre, sickly eyes swiftly at her escort. Ialarin was his name, wasn't it?

Talk about convenient timing.

Apparently, Tea's... "savior" could keep busy on his own. She hated men who thought they had to save damsels in distress--didn't he know she could kick his ass just fine on a good day? Perhaps she'd teach him personally...

Her heart thrummed a tune, her gasping breaths made her throat parched, and she felt as though she were in a sweltering desert in this frigid weather. Sweat clung to her neck.

For once in her life, she really was a damsel in distress, wasn't she?

Damn it. She was always itching for a brawl, too.

Tea let her hand slide from her sword, switching to a position to escape more easily. She felt a bit guilty about abandoning her savior over yonder, but whatever. Like this, she'd only be a hindrance and distraction, one that could cause the out-matched elf to certainly lose. Wait... Was he an elf? Was he outmatched? She couldn't think clearly. Her moist bangs dripped in her eyes like moist grass gripping onto the bottom of one's shoes, but it wasn't as though it hindered her already undulating vision.

Anyway, she was a nuisance.

In a moment, she glanced down and then lugged her satchel over her opposite shoulder as before. She'd have plenty of time to rest later, so the insects at the corners of her sight would merely have to wait patiently.

"Yeah," gasped Tea softly to her escort. "Let's go."

[Damian]

His blade and his horse's hooves missed their target. and sseconds later he heard the wizzing of another arrow. He tried to duck but the way it had been aimed it evened up hitting the back of his head instead of his back. The magic, and the force of the arrow had just enough for and POP. his skull lifted from his neck. His free hand lurched forward and grabbed his head by its white main of hair.

The headless rider turned his horse back toward the elf. "Well look's as if I've lost my head." His head said as it hung from his hand. and again the horse charged forward. this time the horse aimed for the elf. "Mind you don't lose yours." He said raising his blade to slash at which ever way the elf decided to dodge.

Mean while the movement of the two living bodies where drawing attention. The skeleton that had shot the arrow hadn't moved far. It turned. And opened its mouth and pointed its sword at them odd other worldly sound came out as its voice. about five other bodies that where buried in the nearby rubble got up and allowed the rubble to fall off of them. two wielded clubs another curried a sword and the rest where weaponless but that made them no less dangerous. The ones with the best leg bones ran at them as fast as they would have if they where alive. Adelay's assumption that skeletons where slow was dead wrong. Zombies where slow only because they had rotting flesh and riger-mortes slowing them down a skeleton had no flesh and no stiff ligaments to worry about they where just bare bone with lethal intent. On that note a few skeletons broke into a run after Adelay as well.

[Adelay]

As soon as the Undead's head popped off, Adelay took his opportunity to check up on the girl. This would have been his opportunity to make their escape at least as he saw it. When there he spotted another man tending to her. Well, if you could call arguing being tended to. Just where did this one come from now? Hopefully whoever he was was more dependable as a fighter than he was as an escort, allowing an ill woman to travel so far from Avaren alone on this bitter night. Fortunately Adelay still had the attention of most of the undead, so he could cover their escape. Still, he had to make sure the mounted one did not want to or could not pursue them. Adelay watched him make like Ichibod Crane and charge as he slung his bow about his shoulder.

"It's not my head you should be worrying about! Nor your own!" Adelay called out drawing a pair of arrows from his Quiver. With a cleansing breath, the Southern Elf sprung off his heel and charged at the line of undead coming at him. His sights dead set on the mounted commander as he imbued the arrows with spells. "I'm going to be sore tomorrow... and the next week or so... if I make it." Adelay thought as he leaped into the air at the horse's head.

"Lida... Inorum... SAENES!" He shouted again, thrusting the pair of imbued arrows at the undead horse's eye sockets. Unfortunately for Adelay, the renowned Elven Agility may have been able to get him up there, it meant nothing for him while he was already in the air. Bucked aside by the Horse's head, he was in prime position to be raked across the chest by the Commander's blade and subsequently knocked aside by the force of the blow. The Elf's jacket was torn open to reveal the Chain Shirt underneath which stopped it from being a mortal blow, but it still didn't exactly feel nice. Adelay flew back-first into a remainder of a ruined wall and slumped down in a heap. He was in bad shape, but he'd live, and it'd be worth it if his attack goes as planned.

[Ialarin]

[ooc: Lamest post ever. Apologies, I have no muse.]

He'd known the Monolayre woman was sickly from the start, but she seemed worse off than the description he'd received. She picked up her baggage like it weighed a thousand tons; did she realize how gray her skin was turning?

The guard thought about taking the bag from her, seeing as how she looked about to fall over, but stopped at the resounding roar that echoed from the jaws of a... skeleton? See, this was why he hadn't been too keen on meeting up out here.

The ghastly beings charged, all five of them; Ialarin drew his sword in one fluid motion and stepped forward to receive them. From the corner of his eye, he caught Monolayre's friend doing acrobatics off the horse's head, but as it was no continence to him, he ignored it, and instead focused on the task at hand: skeleton-slaying. It was true they were faster than zombies, being lighter and therefore more agile, but it also made them a hell of a lot easier to take down.

Cursed bones or no, they crumpled in heaps when Ialarin's sword caught them, cutting them in half or chopping their arms -- and thus their weapons -- off. He'd seen how their leader could apparently still operate with its head gone, and so expected the littler skeletons could do the same; as such, the guard wasted no time dismantling even the weaponless ones. Maybe they couldn't die, but without legs all they could do was crawl feebly toward him and his client.

He grabbed the women's hand and tugged her after him, heading in the general direction of Avaren and thus out of haunted Aesir. As long as no more random enemies chose to harass them, they would be out of there soon.

[Tea]

She could've been mistaken, but Tea was certain she just saw a headless horseman. The hero launched himself at said horseman with a loud battle cry that would make her cringe if she were anywhere nearer. It was one hell of a good distraction--or so she would've thought, were her mind clear of this wretched fog.

Ialarin swiftly moved to impede a handful of skeletons. Tea continued walking quickly outward from the tomb. Stone by stone passed on below her black shoes like little boats drifting down a stream...

She breathed heavily, air rushing down her parched lips and right back up, feeling as though it were scratching its wicked nails up her throat in the process.

Alright, maybe it was only a normal speed for a healthy person.

More importantly, pondered Tea silently to herself, thoughts rapidly tumbling around and connecting bit by bit automatically even in her condition, he can summon corpses on a whim. These ruins were the previous homes of a city in the sky. Before, she felt sorry for the deceased occupants.

Tea's eyes glimmered as they flickered from impediment to impediment and directed her around the jagged gray stones.

That city must've had at least a hundred or more people--perhaps five hundred. That was more of a village or town's size, but how many souls could float about in the sky at once, really? Even so, if only fifty of them perished here (mages, after all, wouldn't die so easily) the day of that fateful calamity, then that was fifty potential walking corpses trying to rip them to shreds. Likely, it was more than that, but wasn't fifty a lethal number enough? And how much magical energy did the horseman have at his disposal? Was he tired yet?

Her thoughts felt like they were trudging through a swamp of cumbersome mud the clutched and pulled at them, trying to bring them down beyond the surface of the pool.

Well, whatever. The point was, these three stooges really needed to run the hell out of this playground of nightmares.

Her dilated eyes flickered at something peach that engulfed her burning wrist like a large handcuff. Her bag held tightly at her shoulder, reducing her agility. There was no escape. No, wait... This was her escort. This was the escape. Tea banished thoughts of whipping out her sword and amputating the limb at its elbow--hell, could she even do something like that in her condition?

Tea chased after him. Honestly, the direction provided really sped things up, considering how blurry her vision was trying to become. She tried to keep her noisy gasping to a minimum.

Tea Monolayre was certain of only one thing: she hadn't been this sick when she left this morning.

[Damian]

It was no surprise really that the skeletons of mages and peasants where so easily taken down. avaren wasn't too keen when it came to armor and therefore the skeletons where just bare bones and quite easily hacked apart by the simplest of weapons. And lesser undead where just expendable that way, besides this elf Damian was fighting was proving a challenge. and truth be told he sort of lost interest in his original quarry. Not to mention Damion's power was limited. Cadorius was the true master of Aesir'a minions Baron Rivendare was just one of the king's knights. And as such could only command the dead up to a certain range. even with the limitless necrotic energy Aesir was providing. So it wouldn't take long for the escapees to get out of the necro lord's range.

As for his fight with the elf the elf had made a seriously bad mistake. you see the Horse had no eyes it sockets where hollow and the glow that was there was basically the horse's soul looking out through where it normally would. Not to mention the horse couldn't feel pain so it would guit blind the hos until the obstructions where removed. Also, when the Elf jumped at the horse, the horse's first reaction was to lower it's head and bare its horns. If the elf managed to not get impaled and managed to wedge the arrowheads in to the horse's eye socket There was still Rivendare was waiting for something to get close enough for him to cut. Sure his view was obstructed as his head dangled from his left hand. But that didn't stop the baron from making a horizontal left to right slash. If the Elf still had a head, and no puncture wounds from the horns and was only skull bashed into a wall, then this elf had some sort of divine protector.

Damian Pulled on the reigns stopping the horse who immediately shook its head and shook of the arrows. Damian set his weapon across his lap and used both hands to jam his head back on to his neck. "Ah much better. Nothing cures a stiff neck like decapitation." He picked up his sword and got of his steed. He looked over at his hacked up minions and said. "Pull yourselves together. Can't have you guys going all to pieces." He said. The bones where already crawling back together. Damian them made his way to his dazed foe. To see how much dammage he had taken, and readied his sword to put the elf out of his Misery.