RP:The Problem Not The Source

Part of the Souls Out of Time Arc

Synopsis: Eirik has received word from Rachel, a child he and Raphaline had helped rescue from the clutches of a den of Witches and Necromancers. However, what Eirik has failed to realize is that this is a trap laid out for him by the one he once saved. Sabrina catches on in no time. When they reach the plains of Venturil to stop and show Sabrina what he had discovered an attack ensues. Of undead, and of a being far too powerful. However they are forced to put a stop to it despite the outward appearance.

The Problem Not The Source

Eirik can be found sitting off in a corner by himself in a chair that is so obviously too small for his frame. Next to him sits a table made for Dwarven kind, but carries the equipment he planned to bring. A rather large bag stuffed with supplies, books and notes. There’s also food and water but clearly the berserker had planned on sleeping beneath the stars. A few of the patrons look uneasy towards him, the sight of two dire wolves obviously making a few uneasy. He still had to name the two, and its this topic he sat pondering over. As per usual the northman sat clad in his arms and armor waiting for Sabrina to arrive.

Sabrina arrived rather quickly, in women’s terms, and entered the noisy tavern with as much silence an elf in these parts could muster. A hush falls upon the room when she steps in, letting the creak of the doors announce the elfess and she looks over to the nearest dwarf. “What?” He, or she, looks her up and down, gives her an expression of disgust and goes about drinking its ale. Slowly sound creeps back in and she is quick to spy Eirik sitting in a too-small corner, possibly deep in though? Or angry… either way he was given a wide berth by the current patronage. Might be the wolves, who knew.

Eirik would take only the briefest of moments to realize that the entire establishment had gone silent. Both wolves perk up to her arrival, but no other sign of attention is given by them. Both lazily plop their heads back on the floor. However, this is when Eiriks concentration breaks and gaze sweeps to the elfess. Ya, she did that to him as well, but clearly for a different reason. Abruptly the northman stands, collecting his bag and tossing it over his shoulders. “Got everything you need for the journey?” His well calloused right hand pats at his leg, summoning the two creatures relaxing at his feet. Booted feet carry the northman towards Sabrina, “Let’s be off.” Clearly the two strangers weren’t welcome here. Besides the last time he was at dragons head, the group that fell silent had been introduced to Eirik… By Raphaline. So this place was a little awkward and as much written on the lycans visage. Near six foot frame steps out into the cave again, whether Sabrina follows or not.

Sabrina kind of looks herself up and down, the perspective does not give much information past the bow-string slanted between the breast of her coat. “Ready as I will ever be, I guess.” She was a little nervous, realizing that she was, for all intents and purposes, being offered up as bait. She is wearing her usual number, though, this time it is accompanied with her bow that it sandwiched between her frame and a full duffle whose handle had been modified to straps so she may tote it on her back. Her hair is up, warbraids again as this style tended to stay in place a bit better for travel and she needn’t worry about having to stop and ‘fix’ it. She was quick to follow, three paces behind the Dire companions, and rather unsure of the procedure on this.

Eirik gave an exaggerated sigh as he stepped out onto the east road, before turning to face Sabrina. It’s now that Eirik takes her attire into his mind. She looked ready for anything, and this forces a rather large smile upon his features. “You look good like this,” he’d wave a hand at her attire clearly enjoying her ready for the hunt. Though that smile is quick to fade, “Rachel is refusing help.” His eyes flick off to the distance, the direction in which they were about to travel. “She keeps telling the people that are watching her that she refuses aid unless it’s by my hands.” Eirik was worried about the child. “They say she gets angry, for no reason at all.” It turns out that their original plan might be in the crap – shoot now. Such thoughts are infecting his tone as he speaks. “We might not even have to test her. I just hope we can lure her out of the city if she is possessed.” The northman would wave a hand asking for Sabrina to follow without word.

Sabrna cinches the pack more snug to her form, his stride was going to force her to move a little faster but it wasn’t so much a challenge as it was a noteworthy response. She was honestly grateful to -maybe- be let off the hook for the bait-job and hoped she could at least help him in some other way. She wasn’t exactly equipped to manhandle a person, child’s body or not. She nods to his words and charges after him, a little smirk hidden behind his back that he approved of her travel gear. From her place at his heels she recommends “Nothing quite lures a dark essence than something a little more corruptible.” And that might have put her right back into the bait box, but those things historically have taken to the Elfess, ideally because she was so weak against it. It also might mean that Eirik, so recently severed from that spell that plagued him… might just be walking into something he had not considered himself the perfect prey for.

Her thoughts were true, this is very likely a trap for him. Though this time Eirik actually knew what he was up against. Before he had just simply wandered into the jaws of death and alone to boot. Though that ploy did do as he wished; it caused a distraction for Raphaline and the child to escape. “You’re right Sabrina.” His voice soft as he carried on down the path with her in tow. “Our positions in this plan might have been reversed.” He would suddenly stop and turn to face her, eyes filled with seriousness she has not seen before. “How good are you with that?” A hand would point to her bow, before he would turn and resume the walk.

Sabrina looked up at him like it was the stupidest question she’d heard. If he inspected her further he would realize there was no quiver for that bow and maybe this was just a clarifying question to see if it was a toy. Her shoulders slump forward and she maneuvers out of her bag, forcing it against his chest that he may hold it. Her eyes glance to the cave walls, indicating their current element. She takes a short pivot around his form, the bow is pulled from her body and drawn on in the same fluid breath. Where the spider silk cord is drawn back a thin rivet of silvery light takes a solid shape to settle into the nock. When it is loosed a barricade of light extends out, expanding along the walls to a flush fit, and pushes down the corridor with enough force to sever a pair of torches and push them beyond the shield. The silvery light trickles, identifying layers of stone-like essence that remains for several seconds before rendering itself spent. When she turns around the bow is already returned to her frame and she is reclaiming that bag for good measure. “Depends on what you think I use it for.” Defense… great. Eirik picked a real winner here.

Eirik would indeed come to a halt again, as he shuffles the dire wolves on by waving his hand and clicking his tongue. The northman had started building some kind of language for the pair to respond too. Silver orbs shift to watch her display while arms hold the bag. As the impact is made real and the torches die out a sudden grin washes over his features. “You’ll be my sword, and I your shield.” Hopefully his words would give the huntress a little comfort, but perhaps she might be feeling the pressure of his words. The items are handed back to Sabrina, “You never cease to amaze me amin.” Eirik turns to again follow the path, while laying out his plan. “In fact I would prefer, if a fight breaks out, you let my dogs and I stand in the fray, while you pick them off from a distance.” Another step is taken. Eirik felt proud of Sabrina, that damn bow and her skill were amazing, evidenced by the smile he still carried. The northman however, suddenly realized that he probably didn’t need to lead the way. She always seemed to come across as well traveled. In the distance the sound of wolves at play can be heard.

Sabrina grins. “Curucuar” She gestures to herself. “Belegohtor” She gestures to him, finally catching a rhythm with his stride. “But the weapon is not designed for that.” She would likely be a subpar marksman even if she did manage to fire a more standardized bow. “If there is foliate its defensive task is vine, if there is fire…well… you get the picture. Here, we have stone. This is the element I can draw from, this is the effect of that element.” A transfer of energy, nothing more. Gods, please do not let him ask about water. She perks up at the noise just ahead. “Are they going to be alright?” In all honesty, she wasn’t fully sold on them yet. “Did you name them?”

Eirik would listen to her explanation, clearly not understanding those words she had used. “Fire huh?” He would continue his march with her while listening to those dogs. If they stopped playing he’d be worried. For now everything is alright, though his damn mutts were untrained. “There will be plenty of fire.” Hand idly taps on the weapon tied to his hip, indicating exactly what he meant. Truth be told Eirik wasn’t to sure about them yet either, already having to law down the law several times with those rascals. “If they go quiet, we worry,” he simply adds. As for the words Sabrina had used, the ring unrecognized in his ears. Though he was beginning to learn some very dirty elvish, other words meant little to him.

Sabrina’s eyes follow to the weapon and he nods in agreement. “Except we haven’t tested it, and I am pretty sure that fire isn’t organic…You’d have to ignite something more natural for me to tap into it.” True enough, once the flame laid kindling to something more tangible it was fair game. “No magic, remember?” She wasn’t really sure how that sword worked, but she definitely didn’t want to get caught with her hand in her pants when Eirik’s life was on the line. The noises up ahead were regarded as the early warning, that much she could grasp if something went awry.

Eirik let out that laugh which she always seemed to cringe over. “You’re about to learn of Rosfjorian fire attacks.” He’d raise his eyebrows while sweeping his gaze to her. “There will be so much fire for you to play with you won’t even understand. That is what I specialize in.” Thumb raises to point at his own chest. “Demoralize the enemy by using shock inducing tactics. Spread fear and panic through their ranks.” Sabrina was in for a surprise, that’s for sure. As for any other element she would have to find that on her own. Finally, the duo had reached the end of the tunnel and Eirik begins to climb upwards after his dogs. “If you need some help let me know,” He would offer her a hand whether she took it or not. Before long they would be out of the caves and back into the open air of the world.

Sabrina arches a thin dark brow at him. If she needed help? As Eirik begins to climb upwards the elfess calculates proper footfalls to literally climb up and around him without so much as a use of her hands nor touching is person. She stops a few steps above him to turn around. “If I need help, you will be the first to know.” She grins playfully, but being agile was an elf thing- hardly a feat if one did not account for the grace she took up while doing it. She pokes out her tongue and clears the entrance, waiting for him top-side and enjoying the cleaner air.

Eirik would only smile at Sabrina and her nimble nature and shake his head. She had missed the point for contact. No matter. As the northman enters the light of the world again, nostrils flair taking in the clean air. The two wouldn’t find any trouble with wolves scouting ahead. “I know that getting to Rachel is important, I think it’s just as important for you to see what we are up against.” Eyes flick to her as he speaks and then south towards the horizon. Their journey would be long and by the time they arrived at those plains and coming out of the mists, nose falls upon a familiar scent; it was now dark. Burned carcasses. “Be prepared for anything,” Eirik husks while drawing sword and shield. He’d follow that familiar scent to the old bodies he had found before; which is grotesque. The bodies lie burned and scorched beyond belief. Evidence of dark magics still litter the area but most of its effects have warn due to time. Sabrina might only feel uneasy. The two bodies found are only identifiable as male and female. The male clinging to a piece of fabric that has childish stitching upon it. The word ‘Daddy’ stitched into it. Eyes would move to Sabrina, “From what I’ve been told, these are Rachel parents.”

Sabrina took up a position behind Eirik, nimble or not she could not trust an area so riddled with remnants of dark magic used so casually. It would be some time before she began to feel the unnatural nature of these events since only an echo of it all remained. Those people though, her features fall and for a moment Eirik might glimpse a piece of sadness wash over her. “Did Rachel do this?” She whispered softly, if this was the case and the child was somehow aware of it under some possession it might be more difficult to draw her out. It wasn’t just the burn of carcasses that plagued Sabrina’s nose; it must’ve been a relatively high heat to allow what lay beneath that black char the essence of rot over time. She puts the back of her hand to her face and decidedly looks away. She had seen some bad things in her time, but this was mildly stomach churning.

Eirik doesn’t quite catch Sabrina’s hesitation with the carcasses. The man simply assumed she would be fine examining them with all the experience she had with healing and all. Sword and shield are dropped, “I don’t know if it was her. We didn’t save her here.” A hand points off, “we found her in chains in an underground complex that way.” Now both hands move to lift the body, and flip it over. Bits of ooze drip from it with a mixture of cooked skin. In the effort one of the arms completely falls off the body. The interesting part is suddenly revealed. Old marks lay stretched out over an unburned back. “Look at this Sabrina,” gaze has still not swept back to the healer. What lied there is evidence of torture, in the extreme.

Sabrina forces herself to turn back to the corpses. She was a healer, not a necromancer. The sucking-squish of a limb surrendering to gravity is enough to make her edge into a dry heave. She thanks some deity that she does not eat or her lunch would have been atop the evidence. She places her hands on her hips and strolls so very slowly to the body, leaning over she nods. “Mmhm… you could have just said (dry heave) you could have just…. Oh lords.” She stands upright, tilting her head back and straining to keep her nose at the highest point of ventilation. “You know I deal with the living, right?” The stench of rot was almost overbearing, how he could get so up-close and personal was beyond her. Ideally his senses in this venue should have been far more in tune than her own. But she was trying.

Eirik would finally shift his gaze to her and notice her dry heave. An eyebrow curiously raises at her comment. Certainly she had been privy to things of similar nature despite working on the living only. “I know the smell is unbearable, but try to breath through your nose.” He frowns mildly empathetic for what she was going through right now. “I promise the taste that can linger in your mouth with be much worse.” Finally Eirik stands, and offers a helping hand to escape the scene, though he knows it will most likely be refused. What he said is true though, if she happens to breath any of those particles into her mouth, something awful would linger for a time. The Rosfjorian had grown accustomed to old rotten and burnt carcasses, despite his heightened scenses. “let’s get out of the area and make camp for the night.”

Sabrina had been privy to the burn, not so much this level of fermented rot. It was gut-wrenching-twisting-upheaving… oh there were no words. Much to his surprise she took his advice as well as hand. She was clammy but grateful to turn away from that mulched heap of corpses and gain a little distance. “I’m sorry.” She admits. “Your woman should be a little more adept to these kinds of things. A warrior.” She felt guilty, and she tried so awful hard too. She gives a little nod. If camp was next on the agenda then she would be sure he got his rest. “I’ll take first watch.” It wasn’t like she could sleep anyways, the only way he had managed to put her that listless was during the course of certain events that would not likely take place after this ghastly scene.

Eirik would help her far enough away from the scene that even he couldn’t smell it. Those damn ed dire wolves now on his heel as they had turned to make camp. When the had finally come to a stop Eirik would pull a bottle of whiskey and a canteen of water. Both items are offered to Sabrina. “My ‘woman’” he states using her own words. “Should be exactly what she is. I love her just like this.” Once she decided to take the items or not, Eirik would pull out a couple of bed rolls from his bag and lay them out for both of them. “I sometimes forget that others aren’t so easy around such things. I’m sorry.” As for other things, Eirik has no intention of attempting other things. For now, the Northman pulls up a spot next to Sabrina, putting an arm around her. “ I’m not tired yet. You doing okay?” Silver orbs attempt at making direct eye contact.

Sabrina understood what he meant by ‘breathe through your nose’ because the further they got from the smell the more the taste lingered on her palette. She takes the whiskey and literally rinses and swallows it before taking another swig and procuring the water as well. She had some of her own but it was buried in the pack somewhere near the bottom. The backpack is left to drop at her feet, the bow propped upon it. Replacing the lid to the bottle she climbs to her designated spot next to him, curling her knees toward his body in a semi-fetal position. “I’m fine.” She sighs. She wanted to be more, for him. Never had she ever truly felt a need to be everything her lover wanted. The canteen is tipped awkwardly, now it was the whiskey she meant to rinse away, before breathing it directly into his face.

Eirik , unfortunately happened to be facing Sabrina when hot whiskey breath hits him directly in the face. Abruptly his head turns, and jaws clench. He wasn’t expecting that and at least she didn’t burp. Could be worse. Again the northman turns to face her, planting a kiss on her forehead. She didn’t need to be anything more. Eirik would say nothing more, but relax until it was time to drift off to sleep.

Sabrina was up before dawn, she hadn’t much slept anyways. It wasn’t because of the sights presented to her, simply put, she came prepared and didn’t require it just yet. She is rolling up her bedding as first light draws silhouettes among the trees and horizon. Wood has been brought to the fire to boil a pot for coffee. She’d wait for him to stir; silver rings outline her pupils in the dark of the pre-morning sun rise. It was cold enough to see her breath, but it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. “How much further?” Her voice falls as softly as her footsteps; inconsequential to the area and unusually calm and relaxing. He might have heard her like this once before, a dream, maybe.

As the night fights the first rays of morning light, an odd feeling of oppression befalls the area. It’s needle like pin pricks notable, in the sting of crisp morning air. Its a foul sort of feeling, ominous in intent. As if some dark and foreboding presence lingers off somewhere in the distance red hot gaze affixed on the trespassers camp. The first sign of warning is the stirring of wolves, ears rising and subtle whines released from their deadly maws. A cackle, which could be described as nothing more than a whisper on the winds, might catch the attention of Sabrina.

Eirik, however, found himself in a dream of Sabrina. His mind tearing at itself to wake in a hurry. The last time he had such a peaceful thing, the witch of the reach had made herself known by attacking the slumbering couple with dire wolves. The northman awakes in near panic, eyes darting to the Healer in but a moment. Heart raced in his chest, breath heavy as chest rises and falls dramatically. Whats going on? Ears seem to pick up on what the dogs were attracted too. “We aren’t alone,” he whispered whether Sabrina knew it or not. Instead of sleeping without clothing, Eirik had opted to only remove the hardened bits of armor. He only hoped he had enough time to don it all.

Sabrina’s eyes remained on Eirik for some time, and she was rather calm given his alarm. She is still speaking softly when she wraps the ties around the bed roll and sets it off to the side, exchanging it for her bow that was remarkably far away. “Shh…” And more hushed. “It has been circling for near an hour. I can’t make out what… its staying back for now.” She did not seem worried as him, but she knew far less than he as well. She moves to sit beside him, legs spread out with heels planted to the ground and bow dangling loosely in curled fingers as she focuses out there, somewhere. “There are a great many things in the wilderness.” She warns. “And I feel none of them.” So it wasn’t what she sensed, it was what she did not. Her foot inches his sword closer, the other planted on the sheath to pull the blade free.

It would only take a moment for shadows in the distance to make their presence known. Swaying this way and that, lumbering slowly off in the distance, but all headed towards camp at a steady pace; the first sign of visible trouble. The next might be the sting of a magical presence, something sinister - magic whisking from one minion to another, each growing in size at the touch. Undead, partially toothless maws moan in displeasure. A grubby, puss riddled stump of a hand reaches out and clobbers a fellow monster - either unaware they were on the same side or confused by something. Finally, behind the wave presented another form emerges. This particular being the origins of such dark magic. However, the form is too far away to make out just yet.

Eiriks silver orbs shift to Sabrina, “For an hour?” He was obviously confused, why had the wolves not been barking out of fear or anger? Brann Forbruker is snatched up without hesitation. The northman doesn’t even bother with his bedroll. They might need to make a hasty escape. “So nothing has shown itself yet?” Eyes move to the horizon yet again fixating, “I don’t like this one bit.” Just then, those forms fall into vision and jaw opens in surprised. “I hope you’re ready,” Left hand snatches up that shield preparing himself to dive into the fray.

Sabrina shakes her head. While most beings required a chime or a physical movement to notice a shift in their environment, the Ardent was more adept to pinpoint things missing from it- birds, critters, life signs. She stood when he did, but that bow stayed hoisted upon her form. “Nothing yet.” But she speaks too soon as their attention settles on an obscene crime against nature. She is not immediately scared or showing signs of weakness, instead paces thoughtfully behind him and keeping her eye on the fray. She would never suggest a retreat to the Northman as well, she would not abandon him here. Her heart was pounding, those thing held more power against her than Eirik would realize. In the past, he was either too absorbed or otherwise missing from those situations where he could have possibly learned; the mark on his arm, Valen’s shadows in the Larket Council…it didn’t matter, this was going to happen now, whether she willed it or not. “I am always ready.”

Without word those beast snarled, snapping their attention to the northman and Sabrina; they were either unaware of the Wolves or simply didn’t see them as threats. Perhaps their purpose is more directed? Their speed picked up, and they traversed through the grassy plains without any form of impediment other than their own physical limitations with movement. Ten of these undead humanoids were charging headlong into the duo. In the distance, the mage can now be identified as a child, weaving magics that should be far above her own ability.

Instead of drawing that fearsome weapon, Eirik pulls free that oil filled gourd of his. Who cares if they were in the plains? Jaw clenches as that container is tossed towards the bulk. Its inner bile sprays out in all directions, marking many of the beasts and spreading out onto the earthen ground. Finally that weapon is pulled free, the northman bellowing despite the numbers which are about to clash. With all his might, the Berserker flies into the air, “Ignite!” That weapon hisses to life, runes upon it hissing in white hot fury, and when he landed a scene of chaos ensues. In but an instant of time, half the creatures were in flame screaming in agony but still in defiant pursuit. The field itself also washed in flames. His wolves skirt around the group, nipping at the heels of another creature. Their joined attempt had the creature on the ground and into the flames without much effort. Eirik ducks low, bringing that shield with him. With sudden tightening of muscles he springs up, swinging that shield with all his might. Its target finds itself rocked backwards, stumbling for but the briefest of moments. Though the scene is crackling with fire, the group does not seem bothered by his forceful display of tactics.

Sabrina kept as far back as she could for a time. She never rushed in, always studied. Her bow is drawn, aimed not at the dark creatures but a small section of empty space at the wolves backs. An arrow forms against the darkness of early dawn, sparking and twisting into solid view as the height of the nearest flames wither momentarily and almost snuff from sight. It was a difficult balance to steal that energy but not silence it completely. When the arrow is loosed, it swipes the ground in a smooth arch big enough to create a barrier to protect the hind quarters of the Dire creatures and then another is fired to ignite a wall that grew angrily high in front of the little witchling in the distance. “Dammit.” She mutters, unsure if it was her aim, the distance, or more realistically the fact that the caster was far more powerful than one summoned arrow. She heads into the fray, her weapon cocked back with both hands to use enact some blunt force trauma. Her focus is getting to the witch, but her marionettes would see that this feat was not meant for her. Half a body, still dragging its rotted insides wraps bone fingers around the ankle of her boot. All grace betrayed her then as she hits the ground and loses that bow to the enflamed grasses far beyond her reach. She turns to her back, free foot heeling hard into the gaping face of destroyed tissues and missing teeth. The shell is so brittle her foot sinks in, encased in liquified brain matter and the being still stretched its lanky reach up towards her thighs to pull her near. No skin contact had been made yet, but she had become imprisoned to its vice with no immediate means of escape.

One by one the creatures begin to fall, either to flames or the explosive reaction of Sabrina’s bow which wreaks havoc upon the tightly knit group. Like fish in a barrel they start to fall apart, crumbling at the duos combo of effort. However, what is not expected happens. Sabrinas wall of fire is indeed deflected by the witch in the distance - obviously her shot had bee aimed true. In the blink of an eye an impressive wall of air hits the scene, in an attempt to throttle the Northman, while also robbing the life of each undead monstrosity. What is even more dangerous is the fact that oil fed flames die, and in its wake, a child appears. This child -is- the figure from the distance controlling the horde which now lies burned to a crisp or sucked from life force. The creature that had been climbing up the healers leg, dead and nothing more than a husk. Hollow eyes shift from Sabrina to Eirik. “I’m so glad you came to play with me.” If that wasn’t enough of a hint, she would speak further. “I’m Rachel,” eyes move to the elfess with a slight twinge of amusement upon all too childish features. From here Sabrina might catch the signs of a mark similar to Eiriks old one. However, it covered the majority of her body. It is suddenly apparent they were too late to save her. The girl looks all dolled up for the occasion; Pigtails with green ribbons, frilly green and white dress, white stockings and glossy black dress shoes. Protruding from those rosie cheeks and childlike features brimmed emerald green eyes that do not speak of death - of playing, though harmful intent and the loss of life is her goal.

Eirik is in disbelief of the events unfolding before him. Shield raises at the very last moment, protecting him from the majority of the blast. In the wake Nostrils flair bringing that precious oxygen to his adrenalized muscles. This was Rachel and the look upon his features evidenced his thoughts. He stood for a moment desperately trying to figure out if he should just attack or flee. He hadn’t seen a power like this since he ran into their leader. “Sabrina?” he husks towards her as if ensuring she still drew breath. Silver orbs do not move from the child preparing for an attack which might come.

Sabrina is shaking the remnants of goo and crispy blackness from her foot. Her eyes had already settled on that girl and as Eirik moves towards her she rolls off in the direction that her bow had been flung. She is gone, beneath the edge of cindering grasses and from her general directions come three blasts in close succession; the first of earthen stone, stretching out between Eirik and the girl only to crumble thunderously like weak clay, the second a wall of vine, climbing to high arches only to wither instantly and die, and the third a shroud of smoke as the tiny wisps of flame she drew from did not house enough energy to fuel the attack. She had been prepared to kill that child, however she did not possess the means. The existence of that being was a challenge to Sabrina’s whole world. She stood, covered in soot and while one hand gripped that useless instrument, the other fist was tightly balled. It was not fear that drove her, but anger. That thing… was threatening the one person on this plane that mattered to her. If throwing the proverbial potato at that witch’s face didn’t work, the Elfess was ready to physically charge her.

Hands wave in an instant, purple magics hiss up her skin, the soul within casts a response in kind to Sabrinas assault. A visible wall of dark magic forms a visible barrier which would cause any shot that did make it to her, rebound and deflect. “ I like this game, Eirik." The child absent of any emotion beyond amusement spoke. “I’m not done playing either!” The child giggled back; left hand waves before Eirik, shield fading into a mist that swarms him and disappears suddenly. It only takes moments before she is laughing like a spoiled brat who had obtained all of her wishes. The spell itself, enchanting in nature, sought to take over the mind of the northman.

Eirik coughed up toxic air and bile, skin turning ashen in an instant. Veins twist black, eyes roll back into his skull. The spell began to infect his mind. Sabrina might very well lose what she sought to protect! Shield falls from his grasp and skin flicks back to its normal tone. Silver orbs flick to the healer and Eirik had heard the call of command. Of what the witch had sought. Death. The blood curdling screams of the Elfess, but Eirik does not shift. The flames upon his weapon suddenly scream to life like never before and blade lurches forward - its target the child. Like a hot knife through butter, he skewers the poor thing. He’d never fall victim to such an attempt on his mind. Truly, the madmans thoughts are like a knives edge, well honed and trained to fight against such a raging influence. Beyond that the Ardents touch compounded the issue over time, granting him further strength. “Kill her!” Eirik screamed! Her magics twist to the Northman, an opportunity of defenselessness had appeared!

The few charges of energized stone that remained were deflected back towards the elfess with alarming speed. Weight bears down and she pushes off, stepping on those stones as the disintegrate underfoot. The withered vines, carried by gravity in their decent, give view to the scene that takes mere blinks to digest but her focus remains strong. Each swift stride brings her closer to that little wretch, turning her attention from the Ardent to her mark to taunt and tease and tame him. She makes a final leap, stretching her arms out around the girl as she is skewered, the tip of that blade uniting them without so much as a grunt. Her arms grab hold the portions of flesh she can feel lingering beneath the surface of that dark and twisted magic as it vortexes to consume the Northman. As Sabrina falls back with the girl in her clutches she would close her eyes. “I see you.” The near whisper is soft, caring even, and it wasn’t the witch to which she spoke. From the darkness is pulled pale flesh of a child, once consumed and now as the surge of what remained of that tiny thing was pulled from the abyss they would land in a heap at Eirik’s feet. The essence would rise, attempting to find a victim to reincarnate its last thralls into a victim, in a place so baron it left no prey. Cackles and screams would wisp overhead and Sabrina held that girl still. As the essence of the creature fights to remain whole in the birth of the morning light, Eirik would find himself looking at an elfess in tears and a bloodied child in her arms. “She is gone.” The body she cradled is lifeless, a sweet smile of surrender upon her face.

Eirik watches the entity die out in nothing more than a visual. Though something in the pit of his stomach mad the man nauseous. He gagged suddenly, coughing in a fit Sabrina had not seen. Black fluid and bile spilling forth from his innards, followed by the remnants of smoke from the previous spell. He was damned lucky Sabrina had brought that child down for he had no clue how long he would have made it under that pressure. In a similar fashion, the Northman falls backwards, totally unprepared from the ground to meet his back. He groaned in agony for a moment, body weak from his retching. Hands shake as the raise to his view, he was himself still. We did it, he thought. Silver eyes flick to Sabrina and the child, its a shame she was so infested. “Are you okay?” his weak voice manages to muster.

Sabrina sits, painfully, embracing the youngling and brushing fragments of hair and soot from her perfect face. Her eyes close, draining two thick tears to fall and free rivets of stain from the lifeless features. She was holding her close, apologizing in soothing tones, completely unaware that the fresh blood that pooled between them was her own. Eirik had met his mark, and then some.

Eirik finally climbs back to his feet and musters the strength to try and pull Sabrina from the child, eyes flicking to the wound. “You’re wounded.” Eiriks words are low and of concern for her, whats done is done. His attention flicks to the child and back to Sabrina. “I will make sure she receives a proper burial. And her parents as well.” For a moment Eirik would find himself content fussing over the healer.