RP:Paladin in Deathland, Bard in Iceland

Part of the The Ice Plague Cometh Arc

Ancient Graveyard

Aildre wanders into the graveyard, clutching a heavy tome to her chest. The physical and spiritual chill do not seem to affect her outwardly, though the latter takes some of the vacant, dreamy look out of her eyes. She moves towards the center of the cemetery, looking around for Eliason.

Eliason stands before a large, crumbling headstone trying to make out the inscription on it. The paladin's lips can be seen moving under the hood of his cloak as he quietly blesses the dead that remain in their caskets. The sound of snow crunching underfoot tells of Aildre's approach and the large man turns to face her, sapphire eyes meeting her's as he draws the cloak tight against the chill. "Will this work?"

Aildre approaches Eliason once she sees him and nods. "This will work nicely." She pauses. "Can you feel it; the spiritual presence? That is why so many rituals are done in graveyard. It's easier to reach."

Eliason shakes his head. "Your power is a mystery to me, and forbidden by those that taught me. But if it saves a life today, I will do whatever it takes." His eyes reach for the horizon, silently willing Josleen to hold on. "Show me..." he finally offers to Aildre.

Aildre places the book upon the tombstone Eliason was trying to read, but does not open it. "We are going to link," she says slowly. "Well, we and you are going to link, much like you and she have. Then, our spirits are going to follow you link to her location. Once we return, we shall go there physically and get her back." Her expression grows distant, and she runs her hand over the cover of the book. "Stay with us. Do exactly as we tell you, and you should not be harm. Whatever you do, do not speak to anything if it speaks to you."

Eliason clenches his jaw and offers a nod in response. This goes against everything he has ever learned, but the ends seem to justify the means in this case. He steps closer to look at the cover of the book, his eyes traveling between that and Aildre. "Okay, let's do this..."

Aildre shows none of Eliason's hesitance. "Lay your hand on the book," she instructs. The cover is blank, and it doesn't look like a literary tome of any sort.

Eliason takes a deep breath, steeling himself against what is about to come. Raising his hand, he holds it over the book for a moment before finally placing his palm down upon the cover.

Aildre watches Eliason intently. There is nothing unholy about the book. It is just a book. Aildre places her hand over his so that her palm is touching. "This is going to hurt," she warns. In the other hand she takes a knife--a small ceremonial knife, not a rusty dagger, and stabs it through her own hand into his, hissing sharply with pain at the gesture. Some of her blood oozes from the wound, mingling with his as the knife penetrates both of their bodies. The necromancer whispers softly, almost too quietly to be heard. After a little bit they should both feel the link start to settle into place.

Eliason cannot help the short cry of pain that knife elicits, but quickly cuts it off and grits his teeth against the pain. "Yeah, you could've warned me...," he offers in jest but is careful to hold himself still while the necromancer's work is being done. Closing his eyes, he waits for something to happen. After a moment, a strange sensation begins to move from the wound upon his hand and through his body. He cannot explain the sensation, it's like nothing he's ever felt, but something is happening.

Aildre doesn't respond to Eliason's jest; her expression is one of deep concentration. That strange sensation settles around her too, and she resists the urge to withdraw from it and the other person it is attached to "You will be fine," she says slowly, leaving the knife where it is. When she removes it, their link will be severed. "Now take our hand with your other hand."

Eliason blinks slowly, taking a deep breath and trying not to resist the connection that is forming. Complying with her request, he reaches out to grasp the necromancer's free hand with his own. The cold grasp of Aildre's hand sends a chill through him, but he is careful to push any thought of that aside as he opens himself up to the connection.

Aildre would draw in a slow breath at this point were she able. "We are going to walk," she explains. "Your link to Julia will be the path. Whatever you do, stay on the path. Do not get distracted. You may see things and hear sounds like voices. You must ignore them. If your spirit dies on our journey, your body will die here. Stay with us, do you understand?"

Eliason nods his understanding, not trusting himself to speak with all of these new sensations rushing through his body. Closing his eyes, he puts himself fully in Aildre's care.

Aildre closes her eyes too and draws in a slow breath. Well she forces her lungs to expand. The strange sensation expands, becoming external rather than internal and when she opens her eyes, both of them are in a graveyard very similar to the one they were in before. The only difference is that everything is grayed over and they are transparent. A woman stands on either side of Eliason, and a glowing path stretches out before them. "We must follow to find your friend."

Eliason keeps Aildre's hands clasped tightly in his own, though he is unsure which of the two spectres he has actually been talking to. Trying not to think about the dichotomous nature of the woman, he instead moves forward along the path, his grayed feet taking him swiftly toward their goal.

Aildre walks alongside Eliason. They move along the path. Shadows shift in the forest and graveyard beyond them, and the air is full of whispering voices. Aildre does her best to ignore them.

Eliason steps carefully, but swiftly down the glowing path, his eyes resting solely on the ground before them. The paladin's senses are overwhelmed by the whispering voices of the dead, but the touch of the necromancer's cold hands and his resolution to ignore such things keep him firmly rooted as he moves.

Aildre walks along the path with Eliason, keeping her gaze fixed on the area in front of her. The graveyard melts away to shadowy trees, and as the pair walks various beasts and wights can be seen. There are shadowhounds with luminous red eyes, hateful shambling things, and a queer light above their heads. "Do not look at them," Aildre warns Eliason. "Lest we draw their ire." She shrinks closer to him as they near the ruins of a tower.

Eliason fights the temptation to look at the creatures and wraiths all about them, his mind screaming out against the death that has shrouded them. His grip grows tight on the hands of the two spectre's at his side. With great effort, he pushes himself forward along the path, only raising his eyes to scan the way forward and the path that they must take to find Josleen. "Are we close?"

Aildre doesn't answer immediately. She keeps her hands on Eliason's, able to feel his tension and distress through their newly formed link. "Yes," she finally says. "We are close." The closer they get to the tower ruins, the thicker the spirits get around them. Ghostly hands reach out for them--mostly for Eliason. A hound of some sort growls deeply. The air grows colder.

Eliason's breath is coming deeper and more forced now as the dead begin to crowd around him. Oddly, the words of one of his original mentors pop into his mind... "Death is no place for the living..." A grimace appears on the paladin's face as he fights off the wave of revulsion at the nearness of death. The growl of the hound nearly brings the man's eyes from the path and it is only with herculean effort that he is able to keep from reaching for his sword. Another idle thought finds its way through his mind... "Now I know what madness truly feels like…"

Aildre squeezes Eliason's hand. The women on both sides squeeze his hands. They speak in unison. "That is true, especially not for living such as you. You GLOW. We can feel your life, your energy and your power. It is very compelling to us. We are drawn to it." They walk a little further before the two women speak again. "Death is not madness, it is the end for everyone. Madness is more…abstract." They are close on the tower now, and walk under a crumbling archway. Around then the path ends and they are faced with the spiritual presence of Josleen.

Eliason turns his eyes between the two women at his sides. "You did it!" Through the fear and tenseness in his voice, surprise and admiration come forth. "I know this place... What do we do now?"

Aildre looks around, taking in their surroundings. "We go back, get our bodies and return here in the physical world to find your friend."

Eliason allows his gaze to settle upon Joleen's spirit for a moment before answering. Perhaps it is just the place where they are, but he can almost see a tendril of light floating between her spirit and his own, like a single spiderweb holding them connected. Taking a step forward, he reaches out to touch her. "I'm coming... Hold on a little longer!" Reaching back he once again grips the cold hands of Aildre. "Let's go."

Aildre eyes that spiderweb-like tendril of light and then turns. The path they followed to get here is gone, leaving only an endlessness of shadowy grayness. Furtunately, Aildre left her dagger in their hands, and she can follow that connection back. She turns and starts walking back. The path is dark and full of terrors.

Eliason closes his eyes against the terrors that surround them, stepping along the path only by the touch of the necromancer. The man is like a child being led by his mother down a dark and dangerous path. The temptation to fight the dead all about him rips at his consciousness and tempts him constantly to reach for his sword. But, the legionnaire is always one to follow duty above all else and so follows Aildre's orders to not engage the dark beings.

Aildre keeps her gaze on the path in front of her. "Do not look away," she instructs. "And do not stop walking." The voice comes from both women. They walk for what seems to be an eternity before they reach the graveyard and their bodies. She will wait for Eliason to touch his first before falling back into her own.

Eliason is anxious during the entire trek back to the graveyard. For some reason, this portion seems to take forever. But finally, he is able to look up and see the graveyard once more. Once they have found their bodies, the paladin steps into his a deep sigh of relief escaping him as he opens his natural eyes once more.

Aildre falls back into her body. The two women disappear and return to being one. "The rest is easy."

Eliason nods and looks down at their bloody hands, waiting only for the knife to be removed. "We have to hurry, she is exposed out there."

Aildre jerks the knife out and resheathes it. "Let's go then." Aildre makes her way through the tower ruins, looking around. Her hand drips brownish blood from where she stabbed it. Under her other arm, she carries the book.

Eliason is almost in a panic as he moves down the familiar path. Within his worried mind, the paladin wonders if the dead creatures actually are lurking about just like that other world. The thought chills him deeply as he and the necromancer approach the area that they had seen. "His voice is hopeful, but cracks slightly with emotion. "Julia! Julia! Are you here?!"

Josleen :: The stunted tower ruins house memories, scars, and spirits. The columns and their bombed fragments provide a series of grottos of varying sizes - some small enough for foxes, and others large enough for elk. For creatures of the tundra, they provide shelter from the worst of blizzards. For lost and injured abductees of the wilderness, they provide a tomb. In one of these holes, Josleen shivers off death’s tenuous grasp. Any tracks have been erased by a fresh sheet of fallen snow. As a precaution against the wind and predators, the bard piled several fragments of crumbled towers before the small opening of her grotto. Eliason’s voice reaches Josleen, but not her hope. This is just another dream; she is sure. She will not entertain what is surely a nightmare waiting to spring out at her.

Aildre calls out into the darkness. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

Eliason looks about frantically, his voice rising each time he calls out the bard's name. Turning to Aildre, he shakes his head. "We saw her, she's got to be here somewhere. But..." He looks around hopelessly at the rubble about them. "She could be buried anywhere." He begins pressing his face into any opening in the ruins that he can find.

Josleen :: Great, now there is a second voice. What combination of morbid and hopeless will this nightmare concoct for her? Josleen’s sober skepticism is not shared by her spirit, which as always seeks to strengthen its tether to the paladin. Subconsciously and spiritually, the bard picks up on the paladin’s proximity, but that intuition does not bubble to the surface of her awareness. Too many nightmares have depleted her capacity for hope. Still, dream or not, the desperation in Eliason’s voice affects her. It doesn’t matter that is isn’t real. Soon she finds herself shouting at dream-Eliason the way an audience shouts at a troubled protagonist in a play. It doesn’t matter that the scene isn’t real, her feelings are. “STOP! Leave me alone! Stop doing this! I can’t take it anymore!”

Aildre perks up at the sound of Josleen's shouting and moves towrads the sound of her voice, kicking rocks out of the way as she goes.

Eliason is not far behind the necromancer. Josleen's voice is weak and muffled by the stone and rubble, but it is there. The legionnaire casts the obstacles in his way aside quickly, finally finding the hole in which the bard lies. The hole is too small for his large frame, but he crouches in front of it and peers into the darkness. The change in light leaves his eyes slightly blinded, but he calls out softly. "It's me... you're going to be okay."

Josleen :: Now there are rocks being kicked and thrown about. What next? A giant boulder will come down on Eliason’s skull? How many times does she have endure his death? The connection between them nags at her to see the truth - it really is him! Stubbornly, the bard shuts her eyes tightly, hunkering down and waiting for the nightmare to pass, unwilling to believe for fear of disappointment. Dreams can also fabricate feelings, as she has learned too painfully as of late. She looks towards the makeshift gate of rocks, spying Eliason through the gaps as he clears the entrance. She squints at him. Her voice sounds tight, pinched by pain. At the sight of him, hope buds like a rose under april snow. “...Eli?” She sits against a ruin wall, one leg extended and bent at an unnatural angle, the other bent normally at the knee. “...Oh gods, is it really?” One arm reaches towards him, the other pinned protectively over a partially fractured rib. “Please be real. I need you to be true.”

Eliason feels panic rising in his chest as he peers helplessly into the darkness. Had he been imagining her voice? Sticking his head further into the hole, he finally hears that familiar voice and his he almost sobs in relief. He quickly pushes more debris out of the way and lowers a hand in to take her hand in his own. "I'm real... I'm here!" As his eyes adjust to the darkness of the hole, he sees the unnatural angle of her broken leg and the way she is holding her rib. "We need to get you out of here, but it's going to hurt... Can you come to me at all?"

Josleen sobs her relief at the confirmation he is real. His hand is snatched and held tightly, his palm pressed comfortingly against her cheek. She savors the moment, letting the relief flood through her; however, more transpires between them than simple comfort. Their contact has the ability to invigorate and embolden them. Taking a deep breath to brace herself against the pain, she nods and begins to scoot on her bum towards the paladin, using her good leg and both hands to move herself. It’s how she got here, she is capable of leaving this place, but only until now was she willing.

Eliason : At the touch of Josleen's fingers to his own, a soft white light spreads from that touch and over the paladin's body. A soft cry of exhultation escapes the paladin as the light sweeps through him and the deep, incessant fear that had nagged at him since waking is washed away. The weariness and weight upon his soul that he had been carrying with him lifts as if it had never been. As quickly as the light had come, it flickers out, leaving him and Josleen together as if nothing had happened. Once she is within his reach, the man scoops her up pulls her the rest of the way from the hole. Careful to not dislocate her bones any further, he pulls her close and cradles her to his chest. "You're okay... It's all going to be okay.." he continues to say as if chanting and convincing himself. Finally, conscious of her injuries, he stands with her in his arms. "We need to get you to a healer..."

Josleen shivers violently as the new warmth Eliason’s body gives her battles the chill rattling in her bones. Scrapes and bruises adorn what little flesh is visible. Most of her winter garb has remained intact despite several gashes and tears. Her good side presses into his chest as much as the pain in her body will allow, her head tucking in neatly beneath his chin. “...It’s going to be okay…” she reaffirms for him. She nods at his final statement, forcing a smile for his benefit. “A healer would be good… yes. Then I need to see Queen Satoshi. It’s important.”

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