A/N: I know you guys have been waiting for the next chapter, so here it is! ^^ Action and battlescenes as decreed by the Bunny of Drama. This piece is dedicated to Bahiam, who helped me level 30-35, and willingly helped me with stuff.
Also dedicated to the asmo who reviewed, thanks so much for giving me your thoughts. Gimme your name, class, server and level so I can stalk you :3 May Ariel's light shine upon you.
The battles contained in this piece are half based off real past happenings and the rest the embellishments of my imagination. I chose Morheim cuz I'm more familiar with that than Brusthonin. There won't be much humor in here, just generally action. I'll go back to my usual writing style after I'm done with this.
So here's the drama piece. Bon appetit.
"We are the legion, we are Great Madness!" ~Reaza
Chapter challenge: name as many skills as you can! X3
Chapter 3: Ice, Snow and Blood
"Brothers and sisters, I believe the time is ripe for our youngest to participate in their first raid," Reaza announced grandly.
Polite applause rang out as I, Rurulca, Vellina, Lathander and several others were gently but firmly herded to the front of the congregation. We were in Elyos Square, once again, discussing the details regarding our legion's pending raid on Asmodae. Oftentimes raids were executed to test the strength of the opposing faction and gauge their numbers, but none could deny the thrill and excitement that came with infiltrating deep inside enemy territory. More often than not it resulted in death, but no matter – raiding was a sport, acknowledged by both the raiders and the raided.
"Therefore," Reaza continued. "The raid this time will include the juniors. As usual, split off in pairs, and some of you, do take in one of the juniors as your partner. Compatible classes please. Your job will be to guide them in movement and combat as befitting their class."
The group began to drift around as everyone sought out their desired partner. I saw Oscillum and Crossloki knock their knuckles, both assassins standing together; Guinethe and Fikhan, Shurer and Lylyy, Kathline and Vipermage. Most everyone paired up with someone they could work with – there were personal preferences and classic pairs known for their efficiency. Assassin pairs worked well in stealth operations, mages and rangers for their offensive capabilities, warriors and priests for their survivability.
It was to be the first time I'd set foot in Asmodae. Raids lasted an indefinite amount of time, depending on the grouped pair itself – groups rarely met up after dispersing into enemy territory, and the time when a team would return was when both had been killed, or, in the case of experienced veterans, when they tired of the raid.
I saw Euwyn placing a hand on Lathander's shoulder, and Windtl standing with Rurulca – I hardly had the time to wonder who my partner would be before a presence loomed behind me, and a large hand settled atop my head.
"Dibs on you, koala," Bahiam quipped cheerfully, smiling.
"Bear," I replied, pleasantly surprised. Bahiam was a long-time friend of mine, and one I was sure I could work with. Knowing he would be my partner and mentor in this little jaunt to the other end of Atreia reassured me greatly.
The gladiator let out a bark of laughter at my pet name for him, in response to the one he had christened me with only a month or so before. "That's the spirit," he chuckled.
Once everyone was paired up, Reaza continued his announcement, Madmedic at his side. "Mentor teams, stealth teams, to Morheim. The rest, to Gelkmaros. Let's go!"
In a flurry of movement everybody dispersed, heading for the teleporter. About a third of us headed off to Eltnen, and upon landing at Eltnen Fortress, split up into our own pairs. After a quick word of discussion, it was decided that Bahiam and I would take the rift in the Eracus Desert.
"Cmon koala." The gladiator patted my shoulder and spread his wings, gesturing for me to follow. With several sweeps of pearl-white feathers we both set off towards the desert, Bahiam leading the way. In almost no time at all, we had arrived before the rift.
It was a rent in the fabric of the world, a gaping aether-disc defying the laws of both time and space. Not unlike our teleportation devices in that sense, but where ours were consistent, controlled, tame, this was jagged, wild even, bending to none's will. A swirling vortex of rich violet and midnight blue, a jagged rim of white framing it, containing it. Nothing like the golden, runed, glass-like plate every Daeva has known since Ascension as a means of travel.
I swallowed, anticipation dampening my palms and drying out my mouth. Beyond that rift was the unknown, where we would face off against Asmodians impromptu, outnumbered and without the home advantage. I was going to do this. I was really going to do this.
Bahiam sensed my nervousness and turned to face me with a smile. "Don't worry, koala. I'll protect you. I promise."
I looked up at him, at his powerful form, at his polearm, his gunmetal-silver hair spiked up neatly in the center. At his bright, confident smile, the way he seemed to make this raid seem more like an exciting adventure than a march to the death. I decided then that I believed him, and that I trusted him to take care of me.
I believed him, and I was ready.
Gathering my courage, I nodded. Bahiam gave me a thumbs-up, and turned to jump into the rift. Not wanting to be separated from him, I hurriedly leapt in after him. There was a jerking sensation as I was transported through time and space, and Aion saw me ejected out of the rift's tail-end with all the grace of a Daeva at first flight, staggering forward and trying to keep my balance.
The biting cold of Morheim was a sharp contrast to the sweltering heat of Eltnen's deserts. I had heard tales of how bitter Asmodian winters were, but to actually feel it in person was an entirely different experience. It took me a moment to adjust, and to notice Bahiam beckoning me towards him, away from the rift-exit and under the cover of snow-laden pines.
I ducked under the needles, brushing away the snow that fell on my head and shoulders, and crouched next to him. Bahiam was peering out from between the branches, assessing our surroundings.
"Okay, here's how it goes," he murmured in an undertone. "Since you're a cleric, most everyone will target you first. I'll try to head them off, but I need you to stay out of sight as much as possible. Keep hidden and focus on healing if there are more than two of them. Less than that, you can join me and I'll teach you how to fight. Alright?"
I nodded. Bahiam reached out to take my hand, and we formed the customary aether bonds. Aether bonds were an important facet of grouping, as marking one another with aether assisted in the streaming of healing magic, and also allowed group members to be constantly aware of each other's exact location and physical condition at any given time. Once it was done, Bahiam carefully stepped out of cover and set a steady pace along the cliff walls, not completely hiding, and not completely in the open either. I followed closely behind him, keeping a lookout behind us as we walked.
Morheim was icebound, at least where we were, craggy white cliffs and frozen lakes kept in a perpetual state of winter. My brogans sank into the snow blanketing the ground, as did Bahiam's sabatons – it left clear footprints in the snow, but Bahiam didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. On the contrary, it was almost deliberate the way he stepped hard onto the snow, scanning the area intently as if expecting something to happen. An invitation, I realized after several minutes, to anyone daring enough to take on two Elyos out on a raid.
We didn't have long to wait.
All of a sudden, what seemed like a ton of paws and fur smashed into my back, the weight of my unseen attacker making me stagger forward and crash to the ground. It knocked all the breath out of my lungs as I clawed at the snow before me, trying to get free, snow in my mouth and my vision spotting from the pressure and lack of air. The taste of winter gales, of icy aether invaded my senses, and a heavy breath chilly as the Asmodian winter gusted around my neck, white strands of fur rippling wraithlike in the still winter landscape as I struggled desperately to escape the snapping teeth I knew would come to close around my neck.
Then blessed relief, as the beast was thrown off me abruptly to crash into a snowdrift a small distance away. I gasped, drawing in a much-needed breath as I scrambled to my feet and hurriedly made for my safe spot next to Bahiam. The gladiator was glaring at what I now saw to be a wind spirit, polearm held at the ready after having tossed the spirit off me more than a little roughly. The rampant aether-aura the massive creature was giving off told us both that this was no wild spirit.
We had met our first adversary.
Bahiam and the wind spirit stared each other down warily, a low growl emanating from deep within the spirit. As they sized each other up, I cast around, searching eyes raking the landscape. If there was a spirit there would have to be a master... I twisted my head this way and that, looking in the trees, the snowbanks, the rocky cliffs above.
I spotted what I was looking for a split second before all hell broke loose.
A mage clad in flowing dark robes, a distance away and biding his time, only now leaping into action, sending a wild flurry of magic streaking towards Bahiam. The wind spirit lunged at a shouted command from its master, jaws wide and aiming for my neck a second time round. Panic as I fumbled with the straps that bound my shield to my back, tugging at the buckles that refused to budge as a tonne of lethal spirit shot towards me-
With a swift step and a mighty swing of his polearm, Bahiam intercepted the wind spirit, smashing it aside even as the full brunt of the mage's aether slammed into him, making him stagger a step sideways.
The buckles came loose. I shifted into a defensive stance, shield up and mace at the ready, my heart pounding a rapid staccato beat as everything I had learnt from Euwyn and Whitesage regarding field combat surged through my mind all at once. Back in the safety of Elysea, I had been confident that I was more than ready for field combat, should the occasion ever arise. Yet here, now, in the biting winter world of Asmodae, I felt painfully incompetent as Bahiam fought off the wind spirit, all the while closing in on the spiritmaster. Truly, theorizing in safety has nothing on real experience on the battlefield.
Determined not to be useless, I poured healing magic into my partner through our aether-link, negating the wounds he had sustained. The Asmodian, seeing his spirit effectively occupied by the gladiator, and vice versa, turned his sights on me. So suddenly that I had no time to react, a cocoon of aether wrapped around me, binding and abruptly silencing the hum of aether in my blood. I froze as numbness replaced my inner clarity, the alien sensation jolting my mind so badly that I stood there a full three seconds as shock overrode my system.
Then time moved again. Regaining my senses, I hastily ducked behind a rock just as a burst of fire spewed towards me, clawing in my bag for the bottle of healing potion I always had on my person. Adrenaline pounded through my veins as searing magic singed the worn granite, the acrid smell of molten rock invading my senses. Yanking out the bottle, I downed the golden contents swiftly, instantly feeling the aether rush back into my consciousness, eagerly awaiting my command. Calling what little destructive aether I had in my possession, I cast a flame-curse on the Asmodian, then willed the earth to erupt violently under his feet. It shattered his focus, and as the surprised mage tried to recover, I sent a lightning burst towards the wind spirit, attempting to distract it. It glanced my way for a split second, a very brief window of time, but that was all Bahiam needed.
Swinging his polearm, he brought the momentum of its great weight to bear and lopped off the spirit's head.
The wind spirit disintegrated with a yowl, and I healed Bahiam again as he charged towards the Asmodian mage. The spiritmaster hastily threw up an aetheric shield, Bahiam's polearm slamming into it not a second later with almost enough force to level a small hill. The mage backed up, desperately trying to subdue him using magic and attempt a getaway. Outwardly, the attacks that the spiritmaster threw at him seemed to have no effect, but I sensed the horrific burns he was sustaining through the aether bond. It was through sheer iron willpower that he didn't so much as flinch with every movement until I managed to heal him. The Asmodian didn't know that, however, and Bahiam showed no signs of weakening, the mage began to falter.
"When a spiritmaster gets cornered, watch out for Fear. It incapacitates the mind and makes you a blind duck to their attacks." Whitesage's voice echoed in my mind as Bahiam repeatedly slammed his polearm on the Asmodian's shield, trying to break it down. Where Euwyn was my mentor in terms of healing, Sage tended to give me pointers regarding combat and spontaneous field situations. Keeping his words in mind, I retreated to a safe distance, focusing on healing my tank.
As expected, the Asmodian pulled his trump card.
An unearthly shriek filled the air, amplified by aether and pitched in such a way that shot straight to one's mind. The effect on me was minimal due to my careful distance, but even so, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Bahiam was less fortunate, however. As he was right before the mage, he got the full blast of it straight in the face.
As he staggered backwards and stumbled about in disorientation, the spiritmaster attempted to make a run for it, but I was ready for that. Swiftly healing Bahiam of his condition, I sent a violent gale of wind smashing straight into the Asmodian's back.
He staggered, winded. In that brief moment of time, Bahiam caught up to him, and with an almighty swing of his polearm managed to crack the shield, and it shattered, vanishing into the air.
The Asmodian had nowhere else to go. His expression terrified, he tripped on a snowbank as he tried in vain to back up, and fell onto his back. I cast my gaze away as Bahiam raised his weapon, the blade gleaming dangerously in the pale light. A scream, abruptly cut off by the sickening crunch of breaking bones and the gurgle of ruptured organs.
It was over.
I sank to my haunches, dazed and more than a little nauseated. Somewhere near me, Bahiam cleaned his blade on the snow, staining the pristine white an eerie pink. My heart was still racing, horror at the witnessing of a kill gradually invading my mind. The temporary death of an immortal, meaningless, but a death nonetheless.
A distance away, the Asmodian's body dissipated, as is the wont of Daevas upon death.
"You did well, koala," Bahiam said coaxingly as I stared numbly into the snow. "It's fine. He's niot gonna die."
I knew that, as much as I knew I would grow to love Daeva-on-Daeva battles in the distant future. Knew that this was just a sport, a bloody one, but a sport nonetheless. That it didn't really mean much other than providing a means of testing one's skill and slaking one's lust for challenging battles.
I just hadn't come to terms with it yet.
"You okay?" Bahiam looked at me with a little concern. "You look a bit green."
I swallowed, and nodded. "I'm fine," I croaked, and swallowed again. "Just need a moment." Ugh. Stupid throat.
He nodded understandingly, and sat down next to me. "First time's always like that. But you'll get used to it, no worries. Soon you might even find it fun. And then you'll want to do it all by yourself and leave me all alone. Oh no, the loneliness." He mock-pulled a face and then grinned, patting my head. I managed a wan smile, grateful for his attempt at humor, and tried harder to pull myself together.
After several minutes I felt well enough to continue, and we set off again into the winter, ready for our next challenge.
xoxoxoxo
The more notable incident happened a few hours after. Before then, we had been picking our way through Morheim, moving carefully enough to be found by some and missed by others. We'd ran into several other Asmodians, some alone and some in pairs, and always I was fighting beside Bahiam, healing him and following his instructions as best as I was able. Nevertheless most of the time I merely assisted, as Bahiam fought front and center, healing and providing support as was my job. I was getting the hang of it, and gradually starting to relish the thrill of being part of the battlefield.
We hadn't run into more than two at a time so far, but it was soon to happen.
Word that a raid was going on in Morheim was gradually getting spread around, as challengers grew thicker and heavier with every passing hour. The hunt was on, and the two of us were hard-pressed to stay alive.
It just so happened that we encountered a small team of Asmodians while trying to find our way across a crevasse.
Bahiam saw them first, several humanoid specks dark against the snow, and urgently gestured for me to hide. I slipped under the cover of the snow-laden pines, watching intently as he slowly, deliberately unstrapped his weapon and held it ready.
A cry came from the distance, they had spotted him. They surged forward with breathtaking speed, then suddenly halted, still a good distance away. After a moment, they cautiously moved closer, and I could see the polearm of a gladiator and the staves of two chanters. They surrounded Bahiam, circling him warily. For all his gentleness outside of battle, Bahiam could be very imposing when he wanted to be. He spun around, calculating eyes assessing his opponents as both parties sized each other up. A tense silence ensued, like the calm before a storm.
And what a storm it was.
Then all of a sudden, the Asmodian gladiator charged forward, polearm slashing downwards in a deadly arc. Sparks flew as Bahiam countered it with his own, then spun to fight off both the chanters. It was a ferocious battle, and I tried my best to heal him without giving away my presence. We held for the first few minutes, but when Bahiam showed no signs of fatigue, one of the chanters disengaged herself from the fight. She leapt backwards, her searching gaze sweeping across the landscape-
To stare straight into my eyes.
I ducked behind a tree, heart pounding, but the damage had been done - Bahiam surged forward and attacked the her ferociously, trying to keep her from coming towards me. It cost him a heavy staff-blow on his side but he refused to give an inch, wielding his polearm so efficiently that it was either watch him or get beheaded. Aether tinged the edge of his blade a brilliant red-gold, leaving a fiery trail behind it as it swung through the air. It was truly magnificent to behold.
When I dared to look again, I searched the chanters's eyes for any form of emotion. For some reason she didn't seem to be trying to break away, on the contrary, there was an almost smug look on her face-
Suddenly, I sensed a hostile presence loom behind me and I whirled around in alarm. A flash of deadly silver crossed the edge of my vision as my eyes met those of my assailant's for a heart-stopping second, the only warning I had before pain erupted across my torso, burning and red-hot as the dagger aimed for my back plunged deep into my shoulder. I jerked backwards in shock and pain, and was rewarded with another burst of agony as the blade wrenched out of my shoulder forcefully.
It would have been to much to ask, I realized, for them to have believed that Bahiam came alone, formidable as he seemed. Seeing no one else with him had immediately made them suspicious, hence the lookout that lead to my discovery. The brief pause beforehand had been to send their comrade in search of the missing second Elyos that made up the traditional raiding pair. But I only figured that out later. Right now, I was staring an Asmodian Daeva straight in his masked face, time seeming to freeze as his burning crimson gaze bore into mine.
A brief pause on both sides, then the battle began in a flurry of blades and steel.
I drew my mace and shield, aether already surging to my command as the wound sealed itself shut, the sharp pain numbing to a dull ache. The assassin moved extremely fast, to the point that I could hardly keep up with him as he flitted around me, kinah-bright daggers moving in a deadly dance as I blocked and parried desperately, my skills pushed to the limit and then some. I deflected many of his stabs, but more still slipped through my guard, drawing blood where my shield and chain armor failed to protect me. I swung my mace at him, hoping to smash his skull in, but to no avail. My experience in melee combat was patchy at best and downright laughable at worst, clearly no match for a skilled assassin. Neither could Bahiam help me - he was too preoccupied keeping up with his three opponents to take on a fourth.
I was on my own. Always, Bahiam had been beside me on the battlefield, reassurance that everything would be fine even if I messed up. Not this time. This time, I had the whole battlefield to myself, and I was terrified.
Aware that my precise hold on magic was my only friend, I backed off. Leaping backwards, I tried to keep my distance as I drew on every offensive magic skill I had. I called the earth to me, to erupt violently around him; placed a flame-curse on him, and summoned my loyal Holy Servant to assist me - forming aether into physical restraints, I repeatedly tried to hold him down long enough to land a hit on him. I threw bursts of lightning at him, desperately trying to keep him out of arms reach. He darted about so fast that I could not stop running for fear he'd catch me, commanded my total attention in order to keep the earth and flame-curse on him. He was weakening slightly, but I was exhausted - my breath came in harsh pants, and the wounds he inflicted on me were small but numerous, slowly but surely whittling away at my will and my strength to keep fighting. I could hardly faze him. Frustrated to the point of despair, I was almost ready to give up.
Remember your training. Sage's voice flitted through my mind again, and I suddenly recalled something from my training days in the infirmary with Euwyn. She had taught me how to shape aether into a surgical scalpel, to be used when needed on the battlefield where proper medical equipment was unavailable. It was very substantial and dangerously keen, capable of easily slicing through flesh and sinew.
"Be creative," Sage had once said, cryptically as it seemed to me then. Now I somewhat understood what he meant. A wild idea formed in my mind, and I dared not spend too much of my already limited time pondering its efficiency. Leaping into action, I restrained the assassin and focused my aether.
A red sheen floated over my skin, the way it usually did when I was preparing the scalpel. Except that this time, instead of a thin layer of semi-opaque red augmenting my finger, red mist rippled across my entire body, spiking into ethereal, footlong thorns. Not the prettiest of aether-work, but it was as deadly as it looked, and that was what mattered.
Of course, it gave the assassin cause to be wary of contact, as was my intention. Going on the offensive, I fought ferociously, being as brutish as I could bring myself to be. The tables were turned. Contact would benefit me now, seeing as he would rip himself to shreds should he come too close.
It didn't come off as successfully as I'd counted on it to be, however - the assassin was damnnably cautious, and with his evasion I was unable to land a hit on him. He kept vanishing into the shadows, master of stealth as he was. It became a stalemate as we both tried to attack each other yet at the same time not sustain damage. Frustration assaulted me once again as I attempted a kick and a mace-swing, which he promptly dodged. Bahiam was failing, increasing fatigue leading to more and more injuries on his person. He needed me, and I couldn't afford to drag this out much longer.
In sheer frustration, I did something completely unexpected- I dropped my mace as the assassin attempted to ambush me, and brutally backhanded him across the face.
I got a gash on my chin for my trouble, but he got it far worse. The thorns on my handguard tore through his skin like paper, blood spraying everywhere and spattering on my armor. The gruesomely mutilated face stared at me for a moment that seemed like an eternity, before the assassin collapsed sideways, the thorns having all but ripped his face off.
Looking down at his twitching form, I gritted my teeth against the nausea and called down a lightning strike on him. The burst of electricity stilled him instantly, and I watched in morbid fascination as smoke rose from the charred body, the sharp tang of ozone reaching my nose.
My handiwork. My first kill.
As I stood victorious above the body, a heady rush of triumph and satisfaction engulfed me. Almost, I could see why everyone found raids so enjoyable. The sensation of bringing down a strong opponent, knowing that you were capable and better than the other person, of winning, it was exhilarating, addicting even. It felt good.
But the enjoyment would have to come later.
Invigorated with my win, I swiftly patched myself up and ran to join Bahiam in the battle. The chanter who had previously spotted me broke off from her battle to challenge me, and I shouted to Bahiam that it was alright when he, fatigued as he was, still tried to hold her back. The chanter didn't dodge or try to play games with me - it was a battle of skill as she wielded her staff expertly, smooth and fluid as we twirled around each other in a deadly dance. Every moment I could I sent a load of healing aether Bahiam's way, but it soon became obvious that this fight was going nowhere soon.
Rule 1# of successful raiding: never stay too long in the same place, otherwise your location would be locked on and everybody would home in on you right after.
We had already broken that rule. Hearing the telltale rustling of feathers, both Bahiam and I looked up to see black wings swarming the sky like a murder of crows, a good dozen or so hot on our tail.
He turned to me, and yelled one word.
Run.
We both abandoned our battles and full-out sprinted for cover. We were outnumbered eight to one, and there was no way we could survive.
They closed in on us, blocking our way out, fencing us in. Attacks came in a wild flurry like horizontal rain, and an arrow pierced through my gut, the metal tip protruding from my stomach. I collapsed as more arrows lodged into my body, and the last thought in my mind before darkness took me was: Well, not too bad for a first time.
A few moments later, I opened my eyes to the bustling city of Sanctum, lethargic and nauseated from the forcible recollection of my person from the aether. I wondered how Bahiam fared, and not a moment later he materialized next to me, looking a little sick as well.
It was a pretty successful raid as far as first-time raids went, and Bahiam smiled as he placed his large hand on the top of my head approvingly. I chewed on my lower lip, biting back a smile as he got up, offering me a hand after and pulling me to my feet.
Enjoyable indeed. And maybe next time, I might even join a siege.
xxxx
A/N:
Yes, I did get attacked once by a wind spirit while Bah was with me, just that we were in Eltnen at the time and I did get killed xP and yes my first kill was a sin. I hopped out of the rift and he was right there, staring at me, and I won after a little scuffle.
Choppy choppy choppy. Not smooth enough, but I'm lazy to tweak it. Idc. Okay time to report. How many skillz could you identify? XD
Hoped you enjoyed this, I'll be moving on to Kex and Loki after this.
Peace out,
Kakashiz/ Kaolin