View Single Post
BlueInTheShell BlueInTheShell is offline
Barrel of Monkeys
Default   #83  
"I know you don't have anything of worth to really summon a demon, much less find someone who would listen to you." Wisp replied, tartness in her voice while she flared her nostrils and put a pained look on her face as she reached to her belt to produce a small pouch; the leather bag outstretched to the Halfling for her to take. "Luckily, I'm a generous, loving dark mage who enjoys watching others go down the spiral into desperation for the sake of others." Perhaps what she said would come off wrong, but it was the best way to describe her motivations. "Once we camp for the night, I'll teach you who to call. And I'll of course, be more than happy to translate to the demon and be the middleman. There's always perks in that for someone like me." Arabella's last question made Wisp snort; the dark mage leaning over to tap Arabella on the lips. "Well, if you ever summon a demon and don't have anything to give? They'll usually find something they want before they leave and take it with them. Pounds of flesh usually work. Or in your case, maybe an ounce or two."

It was Waltz's turn to catch the container, and the large woman herself nearly ended up with spilled juniper alcohol, and a small ping of anger that disaster had almost came to fruition. However, Deadwaltz carried on with her normal, chipper tune as she beamed at the healer and wriggled her brows. "Of course it's a good system. Ah made it, didn't I? Ah'm pretty smart and all. At least when it comes to making booze, yeah?" Deadwaltz snickered before itching her backside and cocking her head to the side. "He doesn't know yahself yet. Once yah show him yah healing, he'll probably be easier on you, right?" Deadwaltz could attest to Percival's healing herself, and would vouch for him anytime of the day, but the boy seemed more stubborn than to listen to some Northerner. Wisp found someone with just enough gusto as her when it came to opinions. "Ah mean, Wisp ain't that bad. She's just sour because she has to train people. She hates doing that." Deadwaltz replied, trying to answer Percival's own musing about the knight-to-be's optimism. "Maybe the lad wants to be something big. Like one of them Paladins or something."

Wisp crossed her arms and "hmph'd" at the Healer, turning her head to the side and shifting her weight from hip to another. The man was decent looking. A silver fox, at least in her own eyes and tastes. That was a small sliver of reason. The part she wasn't going to admit at all. Instead, the dark mage chose to rat out the Halfling, and keeping close to Percival, let him in on the nuances of the Barbarian and the Halfling, keeping her voice low enough as to keep Deadwaltz from hearing. "Arabella is looking to...Mingle with Deadwaltz. A little moreso than friends. She just needs space to do so, and I'm wisking you away with my wiles to do so." She said, bluntness in her voice like a mace cracking against a stone wall. "Besides, you're a tired old man who likes to drink. I appreciate simplicity. It makes my little one-lined story far more colorful. I get to bask in the joy of a simpler life, while I sit here in a game of chess dealing with my own...Associates."

Wisp stopped and narrowed her eyes at the hellish bray from the woods. That was a sound those dogs made when something wasn't going their way. Either the two were cheating and dispatching the beast, or it met something else and was dealing with that. "Bring something to defend yourself with. They don't sound like that without a dire reason." Wisp sighed, agitation flooding her while she clenched a hand into a fist; blackened smoke emnating from the spaces between fingers. "Stupid kids probably hitting my hellhounds. Now they're gonna be rougher than they should be with my apprentice."

------------

The run triggered the predatorial instincts, and while its task was the knight; the hellhound obeyed its more primal instincts; clawed feet padding after her as the flayed hound set out towards Kastivi with gusto. While the hellhound had been ordered to keep the knight alive and intact, there was no direct order in it's mind when it came to Kastivi. A hindsight Wisp had forgotten (Or put there on purpose. Who knew?) And desire to rip and tear the tanned woman surged in it's head. The scent of fear and the promise of more blood strengthened the beast's resolve and foot moved quicker and quicker with each anticipated bite.

Christoval of course, could do nothing to help her, save for struggling to get to his only good foot and hobble after her as best as he could; tripping over some brush and having to start the process of following them once more. He wanted to call out for her, but the dead goblin was still there. And so was the thing that caused it. Wisp could shoo away the hellhounds. He doubted Wisp could really shoe away whatever was also here with them...

"Gods damn it. Kastivi, get back here." He muttered under his breath, the young knight wiping a brow with always sweat-stained sleeves.
"I just want to come home," said the Astronaut.
"So come home," said Ground Control.
"So come home," said the Voice from the Stars.

“And he goes around killing people?” said Mort.
He shook his head. “There’s no justice.”
Death sighed. NO, he said,... THERE'S JUST ME.
Old Posted 08-31-2018, 01:05 AM Reply With Quote