930 - A Raven in the Wind
The keep’s disappearance was like standing on a rug that someone had suddenly yanked on.
Or at least, that was how it seemed to Nenet as the building suddenly withdrew into itself, the floor vanishing and causing everyone inside to drop. Only by an inch or so, but that was still enough for her to be thrown off-balance, waving her arms with a squawk as she instinctively gave her wings a stabilizing flap. Fortunately, she managed to keep herself from falling over.
Almost everyone else had likewise managed to retain their footing, with only the underage-looking demon having gone tumbling since she’d been doing a headstand. But that concerned Nenet less than what she’d heard right before the building had vanished. “That was Branwen’s voice!” she yelped, knowing that Solvei wasn’t familiar with what the raven knight sounded like. “She said she was challenging-”
She didn’t have a chance to finish as a tremendous crash resounded from overhead.
The sound was practically an explosion, carrying force enough that it made Nenet’s ears ring as she looked upward. For the briefest instant, she was able to glimpse Branwen hanging in the air, her ridiculously-oversized sword caught in mid-swing by a much smaller scimitar, itself held by a short, scantily-clad woman with long hair. The woman’s other hand held a matching sword...which had just gouged a deep crack into the massive tower shield that was once again in Branwen’s grasp.
Then the long-haired woman flicked her blades outward, swatting the raven knight out of the air as though she were an annoying fly.
Branwen immediately hit the ground, skidding through the dirt hard enough that she left a trail behind her. But despite the force that she’d been struck with, and the weight of her weapons and armor, the vilderavn immediately righted herself, feathery cloak flipping over her shoulders as she rolled to her feet and brought her sword and shield back around, white eyes gleaming inside her helmet.
The scantily-clad woman – “Gwynharwyf,” according to what Branwen had said – didn’t even bother looking at her, instead touching down easily as she turned her head...
And looked right at Nenet.
The force in those green eyes almost brought the sphinx to her knees, feeling a pressure in them that was heavier than the crash from a moment before. The intensity they held was so powerful that it took her an instant to realize that the emotion on Gwynharwyf’s face wasn’t hate, or anger, or disdain.
It was concern; fear intermingled with protectiveness. But unlike the warm, soothing aura that surrounded Agapay, this woman’s concern had a ferocity to it that caused Nenet to unconsciously take a step back. While Lex’s feelings for her were intensely personal thanks to the deep intimacy of their bond, the sensation Nenet got from Gwynharwyf was entirely different.
Her concern came from a place of righteous fervor, a zeal that bordered on fanaticism. It was a look that saw the sphinx not as a person to be cherished, but as a goal to be accomplished.
Far from being comforting, it was terrifying.
An instant later, those green eyes flickered toward Mei Li, and then to Solvei. Both of them gasped in turn, and Nenet could tell that they were just as unnerved.
“You’re them, aren’t you?” murmured Gwynharwyf, her voice soft. “Lex Legis’s soul-slaves.”
“Excuse me?” sputtered Solvei, ice blades forming in her hands. “‘Soul-slaves’?”
“How dare you insult our husband like that.” Mei Li’s voice was cold, tails again fanning out behind her.
Nenet scowled as a sudden insight came to her. “You’re the one who attacked our bond!”
A sickened expression crossed Gwynharwyf’s face then, as though she’d just heard something nauseating, but it passed in an instant as her features hardened. “Whatever he’s done to you, I swear I won’t let it happen anymo-”
She didn’t have a chance to finish as she was engulfed in a broken column of darkness, streamers of blackness that radiated a deathly aura erupting from the ground all around her, engulfing Gwynharwyf entirely. It was enough to make Nenet blanch, one hand coming up to shield her face. Agapay had told her that Branwen was part of an organization called the Autumn Court, who were the killers among the fey; judging by the mortiferous feeling from whatever magic she’d used, the vilderavn had come by her place in that group honestly.
“YOU’RE FACING ME!” roared Branwen. “AND OUR DUEL ISN’T OVER YET!”
From within the rising swell of dark energy, an annoyed sigh came. A second later, the column shattered, the thick whisps of blackness breaking into nothing as Gwynharwyf strode out of them, completely unharmed. “I’ll deal with that brat, and then I’ll get you all the help you need,” she vowed, giving Nenet, Solvei, and Mei Li an earnest look. “I promise, I won’t abandon you!”
An indignant protest came to Nenet’s lips then, but she didn’t have a chance to utter it before Gwynharwyf suddenly raced toward Branwen, scimitars again colliding with Branwen’s sword and shield, immediately driving the vilderavn back.
“She thinks we’re...” Solvei couldn’t finish, amazement and outrage causing her to sputter.
“This outrage cannot be forgiven,” hissed Mei Li, sounding angrier than Nenet had ever heard her. The vixen’s tails were thrashing, and Nenet could feel her gathering magic as the kumiho took a step toward where Gwynharwyf and Branwen were fighting. “She has demeaned our husband’s honor, as well as the sanctity of our marriage, and for that-”
“NO!” Agapay grabbed Mei Li by the wrist, yanking her back. “We have to retreat!”
“She’s right.” Carnelia was at Nenet’s side a moment later, glancing between her and Solvei as she started ushering them away from the duel. “Gwynharwyf is the war leader of the eladrin. We can’t win a battle against her, so our best bet is to retreat while Branwen has her attention.”
Nenet hesitated, her stomach twisting at the thought of leaving someone behind. “But-”
Her objection died on her lips as she looked back at where the eladrin and the vilderavn were fighting...only to see that calling it a “fight” was wildly inaccurate.
With a wild roar, Branwen swung her tremendous sword as though it were made out of paper, whirling it through the air in a complicated attack pattern so fast it looked like a blur. But Nenet could tell that she was coming nowhere close to hitting Gwynharwyf, the eladrin casually leaning to and fro to avoid most of the strikes and lazily raising one scimitar to block the rest. Looking almost bored, she struck out with her other weapon, and Branwen barely got her shield into position to stop it from hitting her helmet. Even then, another massive rent was carved in the tower as it was knocked wide-
And then Gwynharwyf stepped closer to the raven knight, easily ducking under a desperate swing from the massive sword, and then lashed out with an upward slash.
The strike tore a huge gash in Branwen’s armor, blood immediately spraying out from the wound. Branwen staggered, but amazingly kept to her feet, eyes blazing as she brought her shield around to try and knock Gwynharwyf back-
“Stubborn little twerp,” huffed the eladrin leader irritably as she pivoted, sidestepping the tower’s broken front and delivering a cut to Branwen’s shield arm that almost severed it. “Just be a good girl and stay down already!”
She didn’t give Branwen a chance to reply, her form suddenly blurring as a wind kicked up...only for Solvei to realize that Gwynharwyf had become the wind, turning into a cyclone that surrounded Branwen completely. Cursing, the vilderavn struck out, but her sword didn’t seem to do anything to the rushing currents of air.
The reverse, however, wasn’t true.
Even as Nenet watched, a cutting breeze suddenly opened up a laceration across Branwen’s shoulder, a rush of blood being caught in the breeze and pulled into the cyclone. Another hit her across the thigh. A third struck the side of her helmet.
Faster and faster, bloody breaches opened across the raven knight’s armor, turning the whirlwind more and more crimson. There was nothing Branwen could do; raising her shield simply caused the strikes to focus on her back and sides, while slashes with her sword quite literally hit nothing but air, and even when she tried to barrel outside of the vortex altogether, the wall of wind forced her back, not letting her escape as it continued tearing her to ribbons-
“Come on!”
Stumbling, Nenet fell back a few paces as Carnelia – and Dima as well – pulled her away. “We’re wasting time! Let’s go!”
“You go!” Sirrush had a manic grin on her face as she looked at where Branwen was being eviscerated, her limbs having already returned to their scaly, clawed forms as her wings and tail reappeared. “I’m going to stay here and tear that pipsqueak apart as soon as she reforms!”
“Get in line!” snickered Yamini, a fiery sword forming in one hand as her other arm was engulfed in flames. “The one who’ll put that billowy bitch down is gonna be me!”
“Ooh! I wanna play too!” giggled Spice, hopping in place and clapping her hands. “The way she’s dressed, I bet that lady would love to meet Sugar!”
“Don’t you dare ruin my fun!” snarled Sirrush, raising her claws as she turned toward the other two, tail thrashing. “Once Branwen is down, I’m taking point!”
“What makes you think you’ll be in any shape to try?” growled Yamini, raising her sword as she sank into a crouch.
“I just had a really great idea!” gasped Spice, her eyes sparkling as magic gathered around her. “You two can fluff Sugar before that Gwyny-lady gets her turn!”
“What is wrong with you?!” Solvei growled as she raised her ice blades, glaring daggers at those three. “We’re under attack and you’re fighting amongst yourselves?!”
“Let them!” Leaving Nenet to Dima, Carnelia glowered at Solvei. “The more time Gwynharwyf spends killing them, the easier it will be for us to escape!”
“She’s not wrong,” murmured Dima. “We can’t win against that, and we’d be stupid to try.”
“We do not abandon one of our own,” snapped Mei Li, pushing Agapay away to march toward Dima. “Even if she’s just a concubine, she’s still our husband’s!”
“I already told you, you don’t call the shots here, tails!” snapped Yamini.
“Don’t you talk to her like that!” hissed Solvei. “She’s one of us, while you’re all just some sluts Lex took pity on!”
“At least these sluts don’t need a babysitter!” shot back Sirrush.
“In a moment you’ll need a healer,” growled Mei Li.
“All of you, stop it!” Agapay ran forward, putting herself between where Solvei and Yamini were advancing on each other, ice and fire magic flaring up. “You’re succumbing to Branwen’s aura!”
“MOVE!”
“Outta my way!”
The two struck out at the same time, and the angel cried out in pain as she went flying back, rolling across the ground several times before coming to a stop.
“Agapay!” Breaking away from Dima – who seemed more interested in the burgeoning fight anyway – Nenet ran over to the chasmalim. “Are you alright?!”
“I’m okay,” groaned the angel, a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth as she sat up, putting one hand to her head. “I just need a moment to heal myself.”
Wincing, Nenet looked from where Solvei and Mei Li were facing off against the other five to where Branwen was still being cut to ribbons by Gwynharwyf, biting her lip as she felt panic threatening to overtake her. Everything was going wrong! Master was off fighting somewhere, Solvei and Mei Li were about to come to blows with the people who were supposed to be protecting them, and that Gwynharwyf woman was going to cut them all down while they were doing it! Everything was-
“Before, when you were apologizing to Toklo and the others, Lex said that you were stronger than either of us knew. From where I’m sitting, you’re stronger than he knew, either.”
Swallowing a sob, Nenet took a deep breath as she fought down the urge to go to pieces. That had never helped her when she’d been tormented by Grisela, and it wouldn’t help her now. Strong! I’ve got to be strong! For everyone’s sake! But how?
“What did you mean about Branwen’s aura?” she blurted out a moment later, saying the first thing that came to her mind. “You made it sound like that’s why everyone’s fighting. Is she doing something to us?”
Agapay nodded, putting one hand to her chest as it lit up with a soft glow, healing herself. “Vilderavns are the premiere killers of the Autumn Court, assassins without compassion or remorse. The same way angels radiate security and caring, they make everyone around them cruel and suspicious, fanning their worst instincts.”
Nenet’s eyes widened, looking at where Solvei and Yamini were now almost nose-to-nose, hurling insults at each other as their magic rose. “And you’re just telling us this now?!”
Agapay grimaced. “I thought I could counteract her aura with my own. Vilderavns are shunned even by their own kind, leaving them isolated and unloved by anyone. I thought that if maybe Branwen had a chance to be free of that for a little while, to see what it’s like being around people without hatred and hostility...”
Slowly lowering her hand, Agapay tried to stand, only to wince and slump back down again, Nenet rushing over to help her. “I thought it was working,” confessed the angel. “But her aura’s flaring stronger now that she’s fighting, and with how scared everyone is, it’s making them more vulnerable to it.”
“Then how come I’m not affected?”
The question earned a small smile from Agapay. “Because your heart is kind, and your soul is gentle. That makes it harder for you to fall prey to the inner darkness that Branwen’s aura unearths.”
Nenet blushed slightly, but paused as something else occurred to her. “Wait, hang on...this shouldn’t have affected Solvei or Mei Li either! We all have powers from Master, and that includes protection from mental attacks...”
She trailed off as the obvious answer came to her then.
“Gwynharwyf’s attack on our bonds,” Nenet breathed, eyes widening. “It wasn’t just painful, it damaged our connection to Lex! That’s why we couldn’t keep Branwen’s influence out! It’s why-”
She didn’t have a chance to finish as the whirlwind around the raven knight suddenly dissipated.
Gwynharwyf immediately reappeared, standing in front of Branwen...whose armor, now having been cut to ribbons, collapsed into pieces, revealing the woman underneath.
Nenet drew in a sharp breath at the sight of her, eyes widening.
Wearing only a simple thigh-length chemise beneath her armor, the vilderavn was stunningly beautiful. Voluptuous and full-figured, her skin was pale, contrasting starkly with her dark hair and the pure white irises of her eyes. Despite how easily she’d carried her heavy armor and equipment, there was barely a hint of muscle tone to her figure, looking more like a model than a knight.
But that was only the right side of her body.
The left side of her had, for lack of a better word, calcified.
It was the only term that Nenet could think to apply, the skin of her entire left half being bone-white and rigid-looking, as though her flesh had somehow become cartilaginous.
But it clearly hadn’t offered her any increased protection from Gwynharwyf’s attacks, blood still pouring down her body from what had to be dozens of wounds. The combined injuries made Branwen sway on her feet, struggling to raise her sword...only to collapse a moment later, her weapon and shield crashing to the ground as she fell onto all fours.
“You’re beaten,” announced Gwynharwyf flatly. “The duel is over.”
Her declaration finished, the eladrin turned and started walking toward where the others were quarreling, their anger having reached the point where they didn’t even seem to notice the approaching threat.
Not knowing what else to do, Nenet readied a spell...only to see Branwen’s lips draw back in a snarl a moment later, her fingers leaving deep furrows in the dirt as she clenched them into fists.
But the sound that came out of the vilderavn’s mouth a moment later was laughter.
The cold, mocking sound earned a frown from Gwynharwyf, glancing back at the raven knight, who lifted her head to glare at the eladrin. “So it’s true,” spat Branwen, a sneer on her lips. “You lost your edge after what happened with Graz’zt and Ilsidahur.”
Nenet had no idea who either of those individuals were, but Gwynharwyf immediately stiffened, her eyes widening.
“Yeah, I know,” taunted Branwen. “About how you led the charge to shut down the portal those two demon lords opened, stopping them from sending their armies into Arborea, but got stuck on the other side in the process...and had to have your precious wife rescue you.”
Gwynharwyf’s hands clenched around the hilts of her blades. “Shut up.”
Branwen gave another hateful laugh. “Morwel beat back Ilsidahur easily enough, the way I heard it, but Graz’zt? Even for the queen of the Llys Seren, single-handedly fighting off one of the most powerful demon lords in the Abyss is too much, especially when he’s not alone. She had to cut a deal with him, didn’t she?”
A tremor ran through Gwynharwyf then. “No! That’s not what happened!”
“I can’t help but wonder just what she traded to get you back,” snickered Branwen. “Morwel’s known across the planes for her beauty, and Graz’zt has a reputation for being able to seduce anyone he sets his sights on. What did he want from her?”
“It wasn’t like that! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“And ever since then, you’ve been playing it safe. No more marching deep into enemy territory, no more slaying evil and damn the consequences. Gwynharwyf the Whirling Fury has been replaced by Gwynharwyf the Meek and Cautious. All because your sweet little wife had to make nice with the enemy you couldn’t defeat-”
She was cut off as Gwynharwyf’s foot made contact with her mouth, snapping Branwen’s head back and launching her into the air, her body tumbling end over end before crashing back to the earth over a dozen feet away.
Her teeth clenched so hard that they could be heard grinding, Gwynharwyf drove her scimitars into the ground point-first, abandoning the weapons as she stalked toward where Branwen had fallen. “I was going to let you off easy because I felt sorry for what happened to your parents,” hissed the eladrin, panting with fury. “But now you’re going to SUFFER!!!”
Reaching down, she grabbed Branwen by the hair and hauled her up, cocking her fist back...
And Nenet acted without thinking, casting the short-range teleportation spell that she’d been working on ever since Lex had left, wanting to expand her magical repertoire for the next time he needed her help.
An instant later, she appeared between Branwen and Gwynharwyf, spreading her arms wide and planting her feet in place.
“STOP IT!!!”
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Reminds me of DarkRai appearing between Palkia and Dialga. Unless theres a particular set of supporting abilities, never mind a critical effect of what the Librarican said Nenet had, recirculating in onitself, it will only exist in this situation due to the deity stresses involved, and even then she will ne E20 sucesses?
A part of me wants to believe that Nenet can somehow convince Gwynharwyf to back off but given how she's gotten the idea of the girls being soul slaves in her head, she will probably chalk up any attempt to dissuade her to be a part of that and ignore any pleas.
However, Nenet has come up with some surprising results in the past so here's hoping she makes a great enough of roll on her persuasion and charisma. Cause if she fails, there's not much they can do and Lex can't do much either given his current situation.
11862794 To be fair, none of Lex's "concubines" look like a librarian per se; it's just Carnelia that was characterized (by Loraestil, of all people) as looking like "a librarian's wet dream" for her sexy-secretary outfit. Agapay, by contrast, has a look (and an ethos) quite different.
As for whether or not Nenet's actions here work, well...we'll just have to wait and see.
11863220 At the end of the day, Gwynharwyf is genuinely trying to do good...it's just that she's overzealous, and has some personal demons of her own that she's dealing with, so it's questionable if she'll listen to anything Nenet has to say. That and, as far as she's concerned, the sphinx and the other two are compromised anyway, so as you noted she might discount them out of hand.
Then again, Nenet is someone for whom empathy comes naturally, so it's entirely possible that she might be able to pull off an unexpected breakthrough...though it's hard to say for certain. If she can't, then she likely won't have a prayer of keeping Gwynharwyf from doing whatever she's going to do.