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ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ ([personal profile] hadrielmods) wrote in [community profile] hadriel_logs2015-12-10 10:04 am

INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for December. Watch your step!
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: December 10th-17th
Warnings: Taxxon-related violence, teeth shoes, general unpleasantness, mass confusion.


You wake up in the dust of the colosseum with no shoes on, regardless of the state of your feet when you arrived. There's dust covering your clothing and in your hair, but other than that, there's no signs of injury or bruising. You're also not alone- nearby, there are others, either still passed out or just waking up like you are. Feel free to take solace in that fact. Or don't- some of you aren't human, and are clearly not great people either. No offense.

To your left, there is a door in the wall of the arena, supposedly leading to the halls which will then show you to your freedom. To your right, and scattered haphazardly on the ground, are a myriad of teeth shoes. These shoes might be better than going barefoot right now, but good luck finding a matching set, let alone one that fits you.

When you do eventually try to escape, be careful. The halls are crawling with Taxxons. Large and grotesque, these caterpillar-like creatures have circular mouths and multiple rows of sharp teeth. Their sense of smell is impeccable, and they will stop at nothing to feed when they scent blood. So, you know, try to avoid stepping on anything sharp on your way out.

All done with the horrible monsters and awkward greetings? Try your hand at exploring the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your little heart is content. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers December 10th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► Characters may find their own shoes scattered around with the teeth shoes if you like.
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
miscreant: ({ and ever; ❄)

Seviilia Brightwing | Open!

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-12 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
Arise

[Waking up covered in dust isn't as unsettling as the lack of breeze. Last Seviilia could remember, she was holed up in the frozen north, living her days culling the few undead that remained in the last holdings of her once jailer. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it was better than hanging around further south with orcs and humans fighting turf wars over a dying planet.

This -- this is clearly neither of those things, and when she sits up to find that she is also missing her plate boots, its really just icing on the cake. The shoes scattered to her right simply won't do -- aside from the fact that they wouldn't fit with her leggings, they were hideous. The teeth that lined them -- it might have fit the whole death knight motif, but practicality simply wouldn't allow.

Walking barefoot is an option, but the fact of the matter is that she's more interested in finding what belongs to her. So those waking up will find a pale, frosted figure moving slowly among the graveyard of footwear in search of her belongings. The lack of boots throws off the intimidating appearance of bone and frost, but there are still two very sharp axes strapped to her back.

Finding the first boot is easy -- but the second?]



Sandworms

[Finding the shoes had been an adventure all its own, but once she has them, crossing to the exit is the next natural course of action. She had briefly considered attempting to summon her Deathcharger, but the halls are not as wide as she expects them to be and the fact of the matter is that Havoc would simply get in the way of her escape. No, she was on her own -- or so she thinks.

There are advantages to being undead, though they rarely outweigh the cons. One of the plus sides is one's increased endurance, and its probably the only thing that is keeping Seviilia alive when she is taken by surprised and tossed a good six feet in the air away from a breech point in the ground.

She lands with a heavy armored thud in front of -- someone a few feet back from her. Something crunches audibly enough, but she's still moving and trying to get at her weapons. There's no time to introduce herself to whomever's stroll she has interrupted, not with her attempts to get on her feet and arm herself.]


Get back, quickly!


Exploring

[Getting away from the Taxxons hadn't left her without some marks. By the time she's gotten away from all the nonsense, she finds herself in need of some assistance -- though just enough for her to recover. Seviilia is mounted as she enters the city proper, leaning a bit heavily on her saddle.

Its immediately clear to anyone who watches her pass that, in spite of being obviously dead -- she's injured. She smells of blood even at a distance, there are some dents in her armor, and an obvious trickle of blood spiders down from her head and over her face. She doesn't appear to be in a hurry to heal herself.

More importantly, she's obviously searching for something. What that something might be is anyone's guess.]
amos_moses: (Curious)

Exploring

[personal profile] amos_moses 2015-12-12 04:07 am (UTC)(link)
Her mount isn't exactly a horse, per se, but it's got enough of an equine-cast to it that Amos follows the faint trace of animal thoughts and runs up upon Seviilia much sooner than he was expecting to. He stops abruptly, rocking back on his heels, and gives her and her mount a quick once-over. Yeah, that looks like magic, and she looks of the fae-kind...or possibly demonic. Fuck his curiosity.

A bit wide-eyed, Amos nontheless puts up a friendly kind of grin and tries to back around the corner he'd just turned. Well, maybe she hadn't noticed him?
miscreant: ({ the scars will remain; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-12 03:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Havoc's ears flick passively, a cloud of frost snorting its way out of his nose as he goes along. The coldfire that wafts off his hooves dies a bit when he halts his advance, but Amos' presence doesn't appear to startle him. Even if he were not undead as his master was, he is a war horse.

And while Seviilia's hearing may not be supernatural, it is definitely better than average. So the stumble of feet combined with how her mount pauses is enough to earn him a glance downward from where she sits, wispy hair falling over her face until she reaches up to comb it back behind one rotting ear.

"Yes?" she offers him, her voice laced with a ghastly vibration that pulls Havoc's attention toward their new guest. He must have had some reason for approaching them, after all.
amos_moses: (Oh I dunno)

[personal profile] amos_moses 2015-12-12 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh. Oh fuck she's dead. Undead. Whichever.

Amos is barely able to mask his reflexive grimace, because dead things should stay dead and not get up and wander around to pester the living, because dead things are gross and slimy and the whole decay thing just really...yeah, no. He's never seen an undead fae-kind, so that's a bit of a novelty...

He manages to keep his smile up, which is good because...wait do the same rules apply if the fae-sort is undead? Hopefully so and he won't end up dead, made into a thrall, or otherwise enchanted. This weird day would suck even worse if he ended up enchanted on top of not knowing where he is.

"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to get in your way, ma'am. I was just...trying to see if anyone else was around. It's pretty empty here..." Licking his lips, Amos glances at the horse. Is it dead too? Or just a spell-creature? Either way he's only getting the faintest impression of an equine mind, even standing so close to it. Not even hazy kinds of thoughts, more like...ghosts of thoughts.

Can you hear me? he thinks at Havoc, the telepathic message carefully focused.
miscreant: (Default)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-14 05:58 pm (UTC)(link)
While Seviilia is hardly a pretty sight, the cold seems to have done nice things for her. The points of her ears are rotted and messily pieced together in certain places and her fingers have clearly been exposed to a touch of similar treatment. There's no ooze or slime -- in fact, though her skin is a tinge of hypothermic blue, she could almost be considered a creature of ice rather than something once living. Her wispy hair ruins the illusion.

"You were not in my way. Yet," Seviilia replies, neutral but not without threat. And, while she had some semblance of control over Havoc, she does not appear to be privy to Amos' attempts to communicate with her mount.

But Havoc's mind was born equine, and so the message does not fall on deaf ears. They flick beneath the plate armor and Havoc twists more attentively in his direction, neck outstretching in an attempt to discover who was speaking to him. There's obvious curiosity, without wariness.

His reaction draws Seviilia's attention, a frown crossing her features.
amos_moses: (Default)

[personal profile] amos_moses 2015-12-14 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)

"Oh," says Amos, looking now at Havoc, and takes a few steps closer, extending his hand held flat so the horse can sniff it, if he wants to. Amos has always liked animals of all sorts, and can't help but be drawn to them. He's not sure if that's a reflection of his ability to communicate with them, or just his own nature: it's hard to tell, sometimes. "You can hear me," he says, both aloud and mentally to Havoc. "I thought I felt something not-a-monster. Nice to meet you."

Glancing up at Seviilia, he tells her, "I'll try to stay out of your way, then, ma'am. What's his name?"

miscreant: ({ in the dark; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-15 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Havoc whickers shortly in return, but its an awful sound -- an ethereal echo covers it, much like Seviilia's own voice. But he takes the invitation while Seviilia watches from her post like a hawk, expression altering between suspicion and confusion. Rarely did Havoc pay attention to anything but her -- no doubt due to his manner of resurrection, at least half construct while the rest was the animal he was born into.

"Havoc," she answers in kind, clearly at least a little confused. Its difficult to conceive that someone was able to communicate with her Deathcharger, let alone that someone would want to. "Are you speaking to my horse?"

(no subject)

[personal profile] amos_moses - 2015-12-15 22:26 (UTC) - Expand

exploring.

[personal profile] barebacking 2015-12-12 10:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ What a comforting smell. The smell of blood. He feels like this may not be a Hell of some Gods design. Why would they be so kind as to show him something that he has not seen in ages? Not the sight of blood, no. He has just seen that from fighting those Taxxons, of course. If one can call what he did fighting -- calling up the children from the ground to skewer and devour the ugly massive worms. But what has made him so happy is seeing yet another elf.

Injured? His eyes widen for a moment as he picks up his steps to runs to her side. His hands reach out to gently touch the mount's neck as though he tries to stop it from carrying her further. ]
You're hurt. [ The words tumble out as though he is someone else. Someone who cares about someone else's injuries more than his own. He can't say he likes the way that he sounds, but that is beside the point, isn't it? ]

Oh, dear sister, what has happened? Where are you going? [ For all not elves brethren? ]
Edited (wrong icon; decided on going a different route with his response) 2015-12-12 10:33 (UTC)
miscreant: ({ i'm falling apart; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-12 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[Havoc seems to have a mind of his own in the moment he's approached, and flips his head to stare at Yaha with some trepidation. Seviilia, on the other hand, can't help the surprise that causes a slow raise of her eyebrow. Sister?

The pointed ears aren't missed, but they are not nearly as long as her own and his eyes lack the felfire menace that plagues so many of her people. She does not have the arcane sense she had once possessed but -- frankly, there is nothing remotely familiar about him. The only ones who had ever dared claim kinship with her were other Death Knights. Brothers and sisters in death, and all that.

And to a creature like her, his distress is palpable. Where it might cause others stress, it seems to bring out some calm in her otherwise stony demeanor. Her reply is an unearthly echo.]


I bleed, but it could hardly be classified as an injury. I was attacked by those worms when I awoke.

[She doesn't have an answer for his second question, so she doesn't offer anything in reply.]

[personal profile] barebacking 2015-12-12 04:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Yaha ignores the look of surprise as politely as he could. ]

They were terribly awful creatures.

[ It would be best, he thinks, to return to that area to kill them all. He smiles briefly at that thought before it fades. The concern has come back as he looks her over. Could not be classified as an injury? Then it could it be that she, too, heals through the screams and agony of others? Or putting on a brave front?

He frowns as he finds he does not know. ]
Are you certain? I worried that you may soon fall off upon your mount. [ The glow in her eyes is almost comforting, if he is honest. He has his own and nice to know other elves share this with him, but must focus on the spell. Hers seems to just be part of her gaze rather than a means to warp the minds of others, however. ]
miscreant: ({ in the dark; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-12 05:36 pm (UTC)(link)
They are certainly sneaky little beasts.

[Not unlike the Jormungars of Northrend. But that was neither here nor there.]

I assure you, it will pass.

[And it would, probably after she maimed some unsuspecting soul, but that would be best done when there were not so many witnesses and when Koltira was not quite so near. But the loss of blood would not kill her -- she would need someone to do far worse to her for that.

But she sits a little higher in her saddle anyway, now that her weakness has been noted.]

[personal profile] barebacking 2015-12-12 08:25 pm (UTC)(link)
As you say, sister.

[ It is nice to feel as though some sort of family is near. Other than his children, of course. How interesting -- the mount, the appearance. He wonders of all the beautiful stories that she must have. Perhaps, stories of triumph over those of servitude and genocide? ]

I suppose I am worrying needlessly. Though, I know not what it is that I can do for you... yet I feel as though I should do something. [ He lightly taps his chin, a childish action but he cannot hide all the oddities of his behavior. ]
miscreant: ({ the scars will remain; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-14 07:16 pm (UTC)(link)
I am undead. There is nothing to be done for me.

[Not the whole truth, but she's been dead for a few years now. One does not simply ask the living to shed blood, especially when it comes with the caveat of intense pain to go along with it.]

Is this place familiar to you?

(no subject)

[personal profile] barebacking - 2015-12-15 00:14 (UTC) - Expand
dragonbite: (11_They fly so high)

exploring

[personal profile] dragonbite 2015-12-13 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Having been around a little while, Vaiz has seen a few things by now. But he's never seen anyone like her, or her horse.

Not that his surprise and confusion shows on his face. He's seen unmoving dead enough to not even blink, anyway. Seeing one move is not all that common but he supposes that it's some sort of magic. ]


I haven't seen anyone with a horse here before.
miscreant: ({ i'm falling apart; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-14 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[Havoc stops on a dime when Seviilia's attention is pulled, enough that it might appear that he's not actually his own entity. She glances down at her steed briefly before instead dipping her chin toward their guest and lowering her eyelids just a touch.]

No? Havoc is bound to me. Perhaps that is why.
dragonbite: (2_I'm scheming schemes)

[personal profile] dragonbite 2015-12-15 11:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ He looks between the horse and the person. Bound to her? ]

How?
miscreant: ({ if you show me the way; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-19 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
We Death Knights resurrect our steeds from fallen animals. Thus, they are bound to us by our own magic, and we can summon them at will.

[There was a little more to the ritual, but nothing that would likely do anything but confuse someone who didn't witness it first hand, so she leaves it out.]
dragonbite: (11_They fly so high)

[personal profile] dragonbite 2015-12-19 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Magic can do that?

[ He's never heard about that before. Stealing powers and stuff like that, sure? Reviving things? That's new. Or maybe he just wasn't highlevel enough at the Puzzle Academy. ]
respired: he's not; he's good and he's bad and he's all that i've got (don't care if he's guilty don't care if)

sandworm IN THE RIGHT PLACE THIS TIME

[personal profile] respired 2015-12-13 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[Koltira was just striding along, looking for some sign of life (or otherwise), when suddenly two surprising things happened. First, the worm lunging out of seemingly nowhere, enormous and sharp-toothed. And then Seviilia. He jumps back as she lands with a clanking thud in front of him, drawing Byfrost from his back.]

No need, sister.
miscreant: ({ the scars will remain; ❄)

sweats

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-14 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Hearing Koltira's voice causes her to double-take, mostly due to the fact that she hadn't seen him walking behind her -- something she'll worry about kicking herself for later.

Her axes are ripped from their peace ties once she is on her feet, and she's almost immediately away of an injury on the side of her skull from where the creature had clipped her after it had breached.

Her ears draw back slightly, and it is ignored. Adrenaline rides through her veins, hungry and around. The ground still moves beneath them, though it is difficult to tell when she is wearing plate boots.]


What the bloody hell was that?
respired: he'll make one for you (one of these days)

[personal profile] respired 2015-12-19 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
Something like a jormungar.

[Not exactly. But close enough, anyway. Koltira's eyes scan the rumbling ground as the creature moves, and when he sees the earth burst he lifts his sword towards the spot. The worm explodes like some many-toothed geyser of wriggling flesh, mouth open and spitting.]

Shackle it!

[Byfrost's ice runes glow even as he says this, even as his own chains reach to lash the worm in place.]
miscreant: ({ forever; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-19 05:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[One benefit to walking under the same banner and mindhive is that Seviilia already has an idea of how to respond when the worm bursts from the ground again.

A surge of magic powered by the runes on her blade calls her own set of rime-coated chains from the ground. Their hold is true while the creature continues to thrash wildly, and Seviilia takes that as her cue to cut while she can. Getting to the worm's side is easy, as is burying both axes to rip a bloody hole straight through its hide.

Climbing it to decapitate it like she wants to? Less easy.]
respired: for better or worse (my boy builds coffins)

[personal profile] respired 2015-12-21 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
[Koltira follows after her, slashing at the beast with a wide, deadly arc of his runeblade. He cuts open the creature's belly as Byfrost's plague runes glow with sickly life. The worm's blood sizzles, and it falters, but does not fall.

Good opportunity to shimmy up there, though.]

(no subject)

[personal profile] miscreant - 2016-01-03 20:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] respired - 2016-01-07 01:17 (UTC) - Expand

arise

[personal profile] peoplediewhenikillthem 2015-12-13 11:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The second boot is currently in possession of a tiny human. Not a child, but definitely shorter than average human one might find on Azeroth. While others might try to bargain for something else on her person (finders keepers is game beneath her), Shiki cares little for the collection of items. She has what she needs to survive (herself), anything else was material and easily taken as it was given.

Not that she's going to make it easy. Casually holding it up, she'll ask with as much disinterest as one would have towards another's belongings:
] This yours?
miscreant: ({ i'm falling apart; ❄)

[personal profile] miscreant 2015-12-14 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's in the middle of kicking a pile of boots apart in a casual and lazy manner when Shiki speaks up. Her eyes fall to the boot immediately, and she can't help but narrowing her eyes a bit.

Of course someone else has decided to pick it up.]


Most likely.

[She wanders closer to get a better look, barefoot with her other boot under her arm.]