• Closed • [Krome] For Freedom!

[Navyri]

⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘

3rd of Ymiden, 717

The steady thud of footsteps played down the dim hallway, and blue eyes shot open, glowing in the dying lantern light. Navyri had slept fitfully, waking once while her cellmates rested and found the furthest corner from her cot to relieve herself. While she loathed squatting like an animal, she reasoned it was better without a conscious audience, and returning to sleep afterward had been a challenge. She laid there, cold and with a sore back, struggling to find a position that did not send a horrid prickly sensation creeping up her arm.

To fight the feeling of loneliness she mentally talked to Curio, seeing glimpses of the door and heard the gathering of people. But now... Now the guards were coming. She sat up, snatching up the rope that had once held her and pulled free a thin piece of its twine to tie up back her hair. The clinking of metal armor was coming closer and figures of hardened men made their way into the corridor, stopping before her cell. She watched them from the darkness. The lanterns had almost died out, and she noticed the way one of the men's expressions changed, muttering into his partner's ear and motioning towards the light source.

Navyri counted her escorts. Three men. Two in metal plate, one in leather. She watched them stop before her cell and tried to keep her face clean of emotion as they grinned dangerously, "Navyri Vy-" The leader, a man with gray on the sides of his temple unrolled a scroll and gave it glance. His brow furrowed as he obviously struggled with the pronunciation of her last name. Eventually, he scoffed and shook his head, rolling it back up and handing it to his inferior, continuing smoothly, "300 gold is a lot to owe a man I wouldn't want to owe a copper to. It would seem the odds aren't in your favor."

"Good morning, gentlemen." Pushing herself from the ground, the Naerrik walked into the light as casually as one might approach a dear friend, keeping her voice light, as if to be courteous of her the early morn, "To what do I owe this honor?"

The leader still had a nasty smirk and snapped his fingers, procuring a set of shackles as the door was unlocked. Hearing the key turning, her heart leaped, her attention fixating on the door. She held her breath, fingers frozen as she slowly lifted her arms for imprisonment.

(Come on... Come on...) Somewhere, very faintly, she heard the cry of an owl and her heartbeat picked up.

One of the guards wearing plate armor stepped forward, perhaps the second in command. He was given the shackles and she willed herself to stay still, the first bite of cold metal settling around her wrist. If the men were surprised she was coming along so easily, she didn't care. She thought of how shameful it would be to be seen as a Naerikk, in shackles.

(Unacceptable. Curio! Find me!)

The next events happened in slow motion. The guard held a firm grip upon the chains he was to secure around her. Navyri's bright eyes looked into his, "Did you think it would be so easy?" A trap. He began to move, subconsciously to stop what he predicted next. Navyri grabbed his arm with her free hand and yanked her arms back, throwing her body to the side. The weight of the guard's dress gave her the momentum she needed. He was jerked forward, and his grip loosened as he tried to catch himself before falling to the floor. The Naerikk saw the open door behind him. Freedom. She could use her gift of shadows. She could still escape-

Excited, she launched a booted kick at the guard on his knees and he fell on his side. The man in leather began shouting for more guards, and she twisted, darting towards the open cage door. The leader moved faster. His nostrils flared and he launched himself at the door, slamming it shut. This time with a guest.

"You were to go to the arena this morning," the leader roared, the guards present so intently focused on the rogue Naerikk that they didn't see the owl that swooped through the doorway, and landed on one of the wall fixtures, staring at the woman. Navyri's eyes widened and she tried to think of a new plan, as the man continued to shout, "But it looks like this is where you'll die! Kill her."

The guard now trapped in the same cell clambered to his feet and drew his dagger. Armed and armored, he was far more protected than the lean woman in a cotton blouse and fitted pants. She was trapped again and her adrenaline started pumping, seeing nothing of use in the cell. The shackle swung from her arm and she eyed it, "No hard feelings, right?"

Navyri gripped the chain that was meant to hold her and swung, bringing the empty shackle down with power and the metal collided with the guard's hand. She heard a sickening crack as bones broke over his screams and the blade flew and skidded across the floor, dangerously close to bars of a cellmate... More guards began spilling into the room with weapons drawn, shouting as they tried to figure out what was happening.

Her first match had begun.

[Warren]

☯ Common ☯ Irarian ☯

The next day saw Warren wake in pain. His body was a mess, muscles aching under the slightest strain of movement as he stretched to drink the little bit of water they’d left him. It tasted like piss if you asked him, but what more could the man hope to get in this dingy, doomed place? He had a way out, he thought, but what had they done to that Lotharro and could they do it to him?

His mind drifted in the darkness, azure eyes closing to draw on faded memories long past. Old wounds could never truly heal. Someone once told him that time healed all wounds, but somehow the image of that night was crystal clear, as were all the emotions he felt. The face of a God, however, was scorched into his thoughts so deeply, it would never cease to remain there.

Vri, the Immortal of Death. He was the one to bestow Warren with a gift. It would be so easy to use it but would he survive? Last he chanced a risk and fell into slumber, he woke in a grave and had to dig himself out. Thankfully, the grave wasn’t deep enough to leave him stuck, but what were the odd he would find himself buried with the slew of bodied from the pit? Suffocating on the rotten smell of death and decay…

Eyes drifting open, they saw amongst dim light the dark head of a feminine figure. Navyri. Warren noticed that he was not the only one to have realized her presences down here. Other cellmates had slung inappropriate remarks to her, most of which she seemed to ignore. She was different from the other Naer he’d met. Fearsome and strong as they were, but reserved. Naer were hardly reserved, from what he gathered. Which sprouted curiosity from Warren. Just who was Navyri?

The clanking of plate coming from the hall drew the attention of all the cellmates as a pregnant silence ensued. Tension was palpable as whispers were exchanged and more light was brought forth. Warren straightened up in his seated position against the wall, his fingers twisting a straw of hay while his eyes glided back and forth from the woman to the armed guards. Odd, they didn’t usually show till later?

It was almost instantaneous, the reaction of all parties as Navyri made her move. Warren’s brow flew up and he stood slowly, easing into the shadows of his cell so they wouldn’t notice him. What was the woman trying to do? Get herself killed?

Locked in the same cell as the guard, the situation at hand suddenly turned into a death match, spurring yips and hollers from the other captives. Navyri swung the unrestrained shackle down on the guard’s hand, effectively breaking some bones within it as he cried out in pain. Warren watched the dagger slide close to the barred wall of his cell and looked to see if the other guards had taken noticed. They seemed too fixed on the fight to care…

The guard within the cell corrected himself quickly and with an angry cry, launched himself at the woman full force. There was nowhere for her to run as he held his arms open and attempted to tackle her. If successful, their struggle would see him atop her with his plated hands trying to make grabs for her neck with his good hand, his bearded face red and full of rage.

By this point, however, Warren had eased slowly across the wall and bent down subtle. If he reached for the dagger now, there was a chance the guards would notice his hand. Then, just as suddenly, the man within the cell was tossed back into the bars closest to Warren. It would be just as ease to strangle him now as it would to get the knife. Navyri had little to defend herself with…

Would he take the dagger and leave her to handle her own situation or help her off the guard while essentially giving her a weapon to harm him with? On top of that, what of the other guards and the rest coming to help handle this situation? There was no way she could kill them all…

The lights…

Could he trust her then? Trust her to return him with a favor the way he would her?.. No. No he couldn’t.

His hand made a move for the dagger just as the door to her cell was flung open and another guard added. “Kill her, now!”

Warren gritted his teeth and balled his fist, retreating his hand from the blade only to stick his full arm back through so it snacked around the first guards neck. “KADE!” His name was screeched out, even as he continued to strangle the guard with every bit of strength he could muster.

“I need more men down here! Get me more men!” The leader outside the cells shouted, taking off down the corridor.

“Lovely plan…” Warren grunted, fighting against the guards as he kicked and flopped, only to later cease movement.

[Navyri]

⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘

3rd of Ymiden, 717

The morning had descended into chaos.

Cell doors slammed behind her, a battle to the death had begun, and Navyri’s adrenaline tore through her, bloodlust building as she was denied freedom. She was about to launch herself at the guard whose hands she shattered when Kade’s arms snaked from his cell and began choking the guard. Navyri came up short as she admired the intervention and her blue eyes flickered to the owl familiar soaring through the door being yanked open as reinforcements came.

(Lovely plan.)

Navyri locked eyes with Kade just as his victim was beginning to weaken and she shot forward, gripping the bar above the man’s head, her other hand resting on the strong forearm crushing the guard’s trachea, “Yes,” she purred, a mischievous smile lighting up her blue eyes, “Yes, it is.”

She reached out to the mental bond between her and the invisible owl, giving a sharp order and when she winked, the lanterns brightening the room were knocked from their holders as if by magic. Curio swooped across the room, his talons kicking each glass container to the ground in dramatic effect as the lights went out one by one. Navyri pulled away from Kade and the guard then, laughing as the men on the outside began to panic.

The sound of shattering glass and shouts sounded until there was nothing but darkness. A moment of silence and then a soft sigh as her body melted into shadow, and Navyri was freed. She charged towards the cell wall, her form morphing and shifting until they were thin enough to squeeze through and around the security detail she weaved, seeing perfectly in the utter darkness. A lack of windows had deepened the inky black around her and the shackles that had been clasped around her wrists fell away with a clatter.

The men were like sheep, yelping and panicking, all rushing towards the door as more tried to rush in. “She’s gonna kill us! She’s gonn-” Navyri lunged, slashing at the man’s exposed throat with her claws, ripping at the tender flesh. She would have been lying to say it hadn’t been satisfying; to watch the same men who dared mock her now die at her hands. An occasional flash of her glowing eyes were all that were seen as she watched some of them grabbing for their weapons, others trying to find a match of some sort. One almost achieved his goal, sparks flying as his shaky hands struggled to strike a light.

Navyri took her time with him, appearing before him, watching as he saw her glowing eyes inches from his face and the fear that took him when she snatched the book of matches from his hands and tore at his face. He screamed a shrill, horrid sound that echoed off the stone walls.

Let them suffer, she thought. Let them taste their own poison. She clutched the matches, dodging any attacks with ease. These men were human, unable to see the same way she could and doing so was almost too easy. More throats were slashed, others punctured by their own stolen weapons. Shouts for lanterns and fire were cut short, and each guard that started to enter struggled to do so, hesitating at the safety of the door. She looked for the leader, but he had escaped. Has she been illuminated, a frown would have pulled at her lips and her attention turned to the captives that had shouted lewd comments at her.

To each of their cells, she warped and entered, killing them quickly. They had lacked respect and now paid for it. And each man to die was less money for the pigs that thought they could contain her; to make her fight like an animal. A shame, really, but a necessity. Each dead man, dropped with an ominous thud, until finally, the reinforcements began to retreat, slamming the door behind them, and their fearful whispers chorused behind their door. As if that could keep them safe.

By the time she was done, she could feel the sticky blood soaking her hands, and she scanned the floor for one of the lanterns that had fallen. Crouching, she picked one up and shook the glass from it, the hallway silent as the night. The men still alive cowered in their corners and judging by the smell, more than one had soiled themselves.

Navyri stepped over the bodies, raiding their pockets to try and find the keys, but she had little luck. Instead, she pulled at their weapons, tucking a pair of daggers under her arm, and….one guard had a large battle axe strapped to his hip that she pulled free. Looking up, Warren was still alive and well in his cell. She made her way carefully to where he was, setting the lantern and ax just outside the bars and squeezing her way into his cell. Once settled, she reached through them and with a little effort, manipulated the ax to join them.

“Killing a man for me,” she said teasingly, tucking the daggers into the waistband of her pants, “And we've only just met.”

Crouching, Navyri pulled a match free and struck it, the small flame illuminating her hand and making it look human. It appeared to almost float as she reached out to relight the lantern’s limited oil, most of it had spilled upon the stone floor. Cranking up the flame, her body began to solidify slowly as a soft glow filled the space, and she shook out her match, casting it aside and finally rising to hold out the ax to Warren.

She kept her distance, knowing the bodies that must have been noticeable behind her, but her voice was gentle as he took in the aftermath, “You scratch my back, I scratch yours, remember?”

[Warren]

☯ Common ☯ Irarian ☯

Warren didn’t pull away when he felt the sudden touch of skin on his forearm as the brunette woman jetted toward him like lightning, quick and smooth. He’d leaned back as he continued to strangle the guard that was nearly, getting a good glimpse into those crystal blue eyes that appeared every bit as devious and murderous as her voice had hinted to. Taken back, though trying his best not to show it, he gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow as the last jerks of protest from his victim fell away and he released the guard slowly.

By that point, however, Navyri had already made her move and while Warren was still trying to grasp the danger he was to be enveloped in, the last lantern had fallen and the sounds of fleshing tearing open and awful screams echoed off the rock walls. The man flinched and shifted away. He climbed to his feet only to hesitantly take steps back towards the wall, as if plastering himself against it would save him from the loose Naerikk. It was too late to grab the dagger now. The darkness had overcome him. He would fight for his life as best he could but the monster that ran amok would win. This blackness was her home.

One by one, the sounds fell away till there was only random oddities, like broken glass being scooted aside and metal clanking together. Warren shifted his gaze, but could see nothing. He was staring into a never ending abyss…

Then, the striking of a match illuminated a feminine hand just a few feet from him. It also illuminated the glint of eyes fixated on him from within the darkness. Warren couldn’t see her form… He didn’t want to. So he quickly shifted blue orbs back towards the flame as it descended upon something. “I don’t kill needlessly…” Warren gruffed, watching as the light began to solidify the rest of the woman, her familiar curves and blue eyes showing against the light. “But neither of us deserve to die here.”

He realized then, as she held the weapon up, that Navyri was offering him a weapon. One he was familiar with too. Warren raised a brow, then after a pause, took hold of the axe with ease, twisting the handle around in his grip. “I remember,” He answered, a slow smile pushing the corner of his lip up, “Though, I don’t suppose you’ve come to shank me with those?” He nodded towards the daggers she carried. “I see no shower here and I think I’m owed one before my end.”

He kept his distance, but lowered the weapon he now had, “If you’re planning an escape, that door they just barricaded is the only one leading out of here.”

[Navyri]

⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘

3rd of Ymiden, 717

She watched him carefully, deciding if he was worth her temporary trust. It was true she preferred working alone, but when he assisted her, he gave her the opening she needed. Kade was valuable, and had survived this long. Perhaps there was some use to him yet.

Warren gruffed about not killing needlessly and took the protection she offered. He was weary of her, as he should have been, but seemed to smile nonetheless at her reference. Interesting. “Shank you? Why, I thought I was a damsel. These are merely protection. A bit of insurance, if you will.”

Gracefully, she lowered herself upon the floor, stretching her legs out and crossing them at the ankles as she leaned casually against the wall, as if she hadn’t murdered so many men, “But believe me, you owe the world a shower. You’re looking rather terrible,” Pointing a dagger towards him, she smiled and laid them in her lap, tapping the flat blade with her fingernails. Tap. Tap Tap. The sound was rather hypnotic, and she looked to the flame dancing, ready to extinguish it if Kade decided to do something stupid.

She gave a soft sigh, a bit tired, as she was growing weary of her surroundings, “Now, why would I want to escape, dear Kade? I want to negotiate.” Her eyes flashed with irritation, not at him, but at the men behind the door, and her voice lowered, “These men are motivated by money, killing for sport. If they’ve lost all their income, there is little one fight could do to earn it back.”

Hand flicking between the two of them to imply her meaning, she sighed, “They can open the door and I’ll extinguish what light they have, leaving them open, or we can talk civilly. A proper meal, terms of our release, perhaps a hot bath.” She gave an amused smile, pausing, “Of course, they could try to starve us out, which would work on you, but counts as more loss. We had to send a message. These deaths were calculated, if unfortunate…”

Although some had been very satisfying.

“Hmm. No, imprisoning us for sport was one of the worst things they could have done. If they do kill me, then I die knowing I did something. The ones that live will remember the Naerikk and what happens when you try to put one in chains,” She eyed the man, imagining so many like him in shackles within Augiery. Strong and yet, somehow broken, “I’m good at many things, Kade, but behaving is not one.”

Navyri held one of her blades up, sticking it in the fire and turning it, pleased with herself, “Now, what shall our first order of business be? Do you have any demands? Requests? Interesting ideas?” The Naer pulled the weapon from the flame, watching the tip glow hot and slowly began to dim as she blew softly upon its heat.

[Warren]

☯ Common ☯ Irarian ☯

Lowering herself to a relaxed position on the floor of his cell, Warren quirked a brow. This woman… seemingly unfazed by the pandemonium she’d caused just moments ago found time to slacken against the rusty iron bars of the prison that had been his home for how long? And why? To converse? Well, she’d kill most of his enemies in an instant, so he supposed a moment or two of calmness was what was needed. Especially to investigate the matter of why she was here and bestowed a weapon to him rather than slay him like the others.

He made no comment about the her title of damsel, however, chuckle for a trill at the mention of his body odor. “Is it that obvious?” He joked lightly and carefully placed the head of the battle axe on the floor. The sound of her nails incited something within him and he looked to those clawed fingers for a bit before turning his gaze back to her’s. What game was she playing at..?

No wonder she was in this shithole…

“You are wise to think that.” He agreed, “They’d rather slay us for sport than anything else at this point…” He stepped back then, concealed partially within the shadows while the only thing illuminated by the light was the curve of his face, part of his broad shoulders and chest, and his arms whose hands still held to the battle ace, though relaxed. Kade leaned against the wall, his expression perplexed. “Negotiations will not work with them. Maybe for a coward or two, but the others…” He turned his eyes towards the door where he heard voices and the sounds of metal clanking together. Light seemed to shine from around the edge of the door as well.

“If they wanted to negotiate, they wouldn’t have killed so many… So I see no point to hope for or trust any promises forced by the edge of a blade.” He paused, turned away for a trill until his voice softly spoke. “I want to find their bodies... Benn and his wife’s. I’ve seen only a glimpse of her but Benn… Help me get their bodies and I will do everything in my power to free us from this place.”

As he watched her heat the tip of her blade over the flame, Warren stood straighter, the hope of escape and task at him a strong focus in his mind now. His body tensed; whether or not she would help him in the end, he knew what he had to do. He couldn’t lay to rest the many others that had been slain within the pits, but these two… Regardless of the risk, his task was set and he stood ready to move forward when the moment came to do so.

[Navyri]

⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘

3rd of Ymiden, 717

Navyri was disappointed to hear they wouldn’t want to negotiate. What was with men and always resorting to violence? It was to be savored, like a desert, not a solution for. Every. Single. Thing. It seemed the guards and those that had enslaved these people were simpler than she thought. Couldn’t they see a fight was ill advised…? Or… What could they have under their sleeves?

Navyri was pondering these things, catching a reflection of her eyes in the dull reflection of the blade, “Promises? Darling, I’m a Naerikk. Promises are a fool’s comfort. I like-” Deals. The word died on the woman’s lips, hearing Warren wanting to find another man’s wife. Compared to him, was she being too cynical? Perhaps. She lowered the weapon, rotating the handle in her palm as she watched him.

She said nothing at his offer as she eyed him. Navyri was thinking, a cat debating if the mouse was worth the trouble. What he was asking - retrieving a body that may or may not is living… It was idiotic. Not when they had made this move. Now he wanted to show weakness and seek unknowns that could ruin their success; her success.

At last, the Naer frowned. What did she need his power for? She stole a glance at the strong musculature beneath his tunic, caked with dirt and blood… Scoffing, she looked away and rose shook her head in irritation. Disgusting. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Listen to me,” Navyri tucked her feet beneath her and rose, taking a few steps in his general direction, “I help you… we survive and get out of here… You owe me a favor. No questions asked. In return, I’ll help you find your friend. Ben and his wife. But I swear if for one moment it jeopardizes my chance at getting out of this filth… I will leave you. You like promises, don’t you? Or shall we strike a deal instead?” The Naer extended an empty hand, having no reason to lie. "Afterall, those are a bit more my style."

[Warren]

☯ Common ☯ Irarian ☯

It was obvious she’d not taken his request so favorably. What sane person would when caught in a situation as the one they currently found themselves in? Her disgust and irritation where concealed as well as the dagger that danced between her fingertips. Warren felt the need to clarify, but in that moment his tongue stilled. The barriers surrounding his trust enacted and he closed off any information he was about to outright give. Navyri… This woman… was a creature of the shadows who’d in the span of bits, slain multiple men, taken their weapons, armed and all but freed Warren from his imprisonment within the cell. It was too much, he thought, to utter such things as being a dedicated follower of the Lord of Death. Moreso that such devotion had blessed him with strange gifts from the God. Warren didn’t need the woman taking advantage of him more than she already had.

“I know what I’m asking.” He affirmed just before she stood, her words rushing forth like furious rapids. A favor? She truck a deal with him for a favor… one that he would have no knowledge of prior to the request. This didn’t settle well with Warren and he stared at her outstretched hand for longer than he should have. However, just as long as the pause was, his hand reached out quickly to grasp the Naer’s forearm, completed the bargain they’d formed, “Deal.”

Then suddenly, his grip tightened and he dragged her closer so that she was just under his nose. “I accept, though, Little Damsel, if it looks like you’re going back on our deal here, I will show no mercy to you nor those who come to fetch you… I am not a man to be trifled with.”

Only trills later came a shout from beyond the door just before it burst open and a flaming ball of rages and clothing came tumbling into the room, accompanied by other guardsmen. Warren released her forearm then and readied his axe to take a head as the soldiers piled in.

[Navyri]

⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘

3rd of Ymiden, 717

Warren gripped her hand and tugged her forward, the Naer digging her heels into the filthy floor and catching herself before she stumbled upon him. The blonde man peered down at her, his threat washing over her. Perhaps she would have seen it as a nice challenge, had he not smelled like rancid meat and man sweat, “I accept, though, Little Damsel, if it looks like you’re going back on our deal here, I will show no mercy to you nor those who come to fetch you… I am not a man to be trifled with.”

Was he always so tall?

Navyri resisted the scoff building in her throat and smiled, enjoying the irony of her next words, “A good relationship is built on trust,” she cocked her head, snatching her hand away, “Don’t they teach you that in-”

The door blasted open and a flash of light flew through the room, only visible from the corner of her eye when it landed upon the first body and exploded into flame. The shadow woman jerked, jumping to shield herself and dipping beside the behemoth beside her. Very few things made her uncomfortable, or even as fearful like the rest of the mortal races. But fire… Fire was one.

Her eyes were saucers as the flame flew down the hallway, licking at the oil and clinging to the bodies. In trills, the smell of burning hair was building and her eyes darted to the opening. Bodies - guards were blockading safety, and she was trapped. Trapped like a bird in a cage.

“Curio! Out the door, now!” she screamed in Gravokian, watching the familiar hesitate and race towards the exit before the flames could reach higher. He flew above the heads of those that would seek to destroy her and she gulped, knowing he was safe… safer. Navyri shoved away from Warren, spotting the dim lantern she had left by the opening and rushed forward to kick it away as to not invite any more flame to grow closer. Her heart was pounding and heat kissed her skin as the fire crackled. Was it laughing?

“We have to get out… We have to…” she muttered terrified and trying to think, shaking the bars of the cage. It was only a matter of time before the metal would be too hot to touch. The fire raged and she heard the laughter…

She hated them. She would kill them all...

Rage and adrenaline fused inside her, and she pressed herself up against her prison, no longer concerned with Kade. Cursing, she stuck her nail back into the old lock and tried to focus as sweat began to build upon her forehead. The fire… it was growing…. It was getting closer.

Her predicament was dire. She had no tools other than what Audrae had given her, and a deadly circumstance. Navyri tried to count the pins, twisting and feeling the ache in her finger. The lock didn’t budge, and her whole body had begun to sweat. Behind her, Kade was crouched, but she paid him no mind. Her frustration was building, each time she tried to pick the opening and no result. She kept twisting, ramming into the barrier with her shoulder until it ached, tendrils of smoke licking the ceiling.

The Naer coughed, closing her eyes to try and keep her thoughts calm and when she felt the lock give way slightly, she gasped and twisted eagerly. A sharp crack resounded and pain seared through her hand. The woman screamed, pulling free and stumbling back as black blood poured down her finger and dripped to the floor. Illuminated on the ground was a piece of her nail and she clutched her hand to her abdomen, bent over it as tears sprang to her eyes and smoke began to choke her.

“Not so scary now, are you bitch?”

Navyri looked up at the voice, growling. Eyes flying to the daggers she had confiscated, she wanted nothing more than to drive them down the man’s throat but then…

Hand shaking from the pain that radiated from it, she moved back to the lock and tried again. And again. Even as the flames started encroaching and the bars grew hot, even as it started to heat her skin, she kept going. It was their only shot.

Would she die like an animal? Was she reduced to so much?

The pins shifted and she muttered desperate prayers to Delroth, drowned out by the sound around her, “Delroth is so perfect. So… handsome… I can’t flatter you if I die. I can’t steal what you want. I can’t… Please. Delroth…. C’mon… I’ll only wear pretty clothes. I’ll… start a church. I’ll-”

The locked gave in and by some miracle - although not granted by the immortal of greed, unfortunately - she felt only a sliver of hope. Jumping back, Navyri realized she would never get past them… Not without force…

The Naer barely pushed open the door, afraid the guards would see her progress and throw more fire in, and raced to where Kade was shaking over a body, gasping, “Get up!” she ordered, not knowing the trauma he had just experienced. They had made a deal! “Hurry! Get up!” she was shouting over the screams of those who she had not slaughtered that still sat in their cages, and tucked her blades into her boots, grabbing his powerful arms and trying to drag him to his feet, shoving his axe back into his hand, and gripping the back of his head to force him to look at her, “I’m going to paralyze them. You will have a window… Kill them and push them back, or we die here. Now.”

Her blood, unlike that of mortals, but a reflection of the essence she truly was, smeared across his skin and blended with that of the undead he had faced the day before. She had no idea if this would work, but panic had ripped at her heart. Navyri pulled away and with taking the best breath she could, shoved open the cell door and moved as close to the opening as possible before her need to escape did the rest.

It was the same feeling from her childhood. She had to run. To escape. To save herself. A great force flew from her chest, a black shadow that flew outward, arms outstretched as it avoided the flames and dived into the unsuspecting mortals beyond their torment. With each body it encompassed - with each sense, it greedily stole and each mind it ravaged, Navyri felt a piece of her being stretched and her illusion stumbled weakly against the wall, a husk waiting for its owner unable to run. Instead, she clung to the power, as desperately as one holding on for dear life and tried to keep it from coming back…

It was up to Warren to do his part and give them an opening. Their time was running out.

[Warren]

☯ Common ☯ Irarian ☯

It was a matter of trills before the room was engulfed in flames from the fireball the guards rolled into the room. His eyes slid down to the woman at his side, watching as fear ravaged her form and the flame set a grim reflection in her hauntingly blue gaze. Warren’s brow furrowed as he took a step back, attempting to assess the situation at hand.

The guards were watching the flames lick up the ceiling as they did, knowing the Naer had cursed them in her frenzy, never taking heed of where the oil would land. Warren couldn’t live through fire. He was not Faldrun, nor living fury that could shift through iron and crawl through rock. He knew Vri had blessed him with the gift to stave off death from wounds for a little while but he could not come back to a burned husk. And what of Navyri?

By this point, the woman had pressed herself to the bars and, from what he guessed, attempted to pick the lock there. He couldn’t allow them to perish and, with the guards held back by the sea of flames between them, Warren turned his eyes onto the body that laid against the bars within the Naer’s cell. Body rigid and jaw clenched, Warren nervously twisted the handle of the axe, as if that would stave off the experience, before he approached the body and dipped down to inspect it. It was still warm when his hand touched the skin of the man’s neck, but Warren knew there was no life to be found in him anymore, and took a breath to relieve the pent up anxiety.

He stole a glance back at Navyri before Warren settled upon his knee and took a deep breath to focus. With lightning blue eyes captive behind lids, the devotee focused inward, slowing his breathing and following the hard pound of his heart within his ears. Thud, thud, thud… He looked within the darkness, reaching out for the unfamiliar attachment that lived there until a cold surge kicked through his blood and his body froze within the ice.

Mind opening, he could see images— memories, though they weren’t his. Warren was unsettled, feeling the gruff cough that bubbled from his throat as he rose his hand to cover his mouth, but it wasn’t his hand.

“Get up, Farrows. They want the woman in the pits next.” The captain ordered before Warren stood up and straightened, grabbing shackles from the wall and following the armored men down the halls. He took note… left turn, straight… left turn, right turn, straight… Then there was the familiar door he’d stared at for however many seasons now, only it was from the opposite side until they entered the cell area.

Warren pulled away from the power as he entered the cell with Navyri, ready to attack and shackle her. Farrows was angry, he could feel it, but along with that emotion was another of duty. The devotee could tell Farrows was only doing as he was ordered to help his wife. Warren felt the whispers of such information as the first crack of the shackle came down upon him. He gritted his teeth in pain, fighting back against the power and the Naer in front of him. Both overwhelmed him in trills till his back was to the bars and he was on the floor.

Suddenly an arm snaked out and crushed his throat. Warren kicked, attempted to gasp, to claw, but he couldn’t. His wife, the medicine, by the seven he needed to cough, he needed to breathe, to stop this because he couldn’t die like this. Warren thrashed as the guard thrashed, but it was useless. The burning intensified till his chest couldn’t take it anymore. Blood screamed in his ears and he let out a silent roar of protest.

He’d failed…

He’s eyes tunneled to the bars ahead and, for a moment, he thought he saw the familiar, inky black head of a man just before whispers of sickness, medicine, and death were silenced in void.

Warren’s mind came up from the void slowly, his form lurched and covered in sweat. A voice was speaking to him but it was distant, as did a face appear in his field of vision but appeared out of focus. He leaned forward weakly but was pushed back against the bars and cringed. The voice spoke again, said his name, called to him with anger that stole his attention and brought it sharply into focus.

“What..?”

“I’m going to paralyze them. You will have a window… Kill them and push them back, or we die here. Now.”

By the Gods, what was this woman saying?

“What?” Warren repeated again, holding to the bars as Navyri pulled away from him, the smudge of her blood warm across his cheek. His heart felt hollow, cold, and his mind reflected the damage tenfold. Fear was something Warren rarely experienced, but within the power that held him to the corpse, the man could see beyond the veil, where the unknown remained. What was there? His mind whispered. Dangerous things… Deadly things… Terribly things… And he would one day face them.

Warren watched with distant eyes as Navyri pushed open the bars to their cell and launched from it with a wave of darkness. He looked away then, held to his spot by toxic emotions. Death would come for him if he moved. The darkness would be there then. The darkness would always be there… In his shadow, haunting him.

A strangled breath filled his lungs as the memories of his sister, Altea, flooded his mind and with them, the pain of losing her to death. Tears beaded his eyes but he bit them back and stuff them away, fighting against the hollowness that filled him. Vri held no vendetta against men, though most cursed him for his hand in life. And while he wanted to blame the God for tearing apart his family, Warren knew that was never his intention and that, maybe, the Soul Warden had taken his sister to a better place in the great beyond.

As much as he wanted to wallow in the depression that now clung to him, Warren lifted his head and held onto his axe. Straightening, he clenched his jaw and stepped away from the bars, rage from the fire burning brightly in his eyes. No matter when he’d greet Vri, Warren would fight to stand before the almighty and know that he deserved his place there.

Wasting no time at all, the blond stepped from his confinement swinging iron at the first body it found. Maybe he was a coward for slaying the helpless, but he cared not in this instant. Warren had suffered as did the rest that burned in the fire behind him. These men, regardless of their lives, would suffer for their choices and the choices of their superiors.

It took little time before Warren was through thinning the herd, though he did notice some that were unaffected stumble back into the hall, probably for reinforcements. When he was finished with the last of the affected mem, Warren reached a hand out to grasp onto Navyri’s arm, helping her off the wall she’d crumbled against.

“Get up, I’ve got you…” He encouraged, dragging her to her feet all the same and pushing them both through the door. Their escape begun…

As they raced down the halls, taking the turns Warren has seen in his vision, he made sure to snuff out as much light as he could for the Naer at his side. Regardless of their current alliance, he needed a deadly weapon should the time every come to use it and that’s exactly what she would be.

The noise of metal boots sounded down the hall just as another group of men came into focus, though they seemed hesitant to approach. “Move aside or face death.” Warren boomed, lowering his voice thereafter, “I know not all of you wish to die today.”

“I cannot,” Said a Soldier near the head of the group, “Containing you and ensuring you fight means my family is kept safe. I would die by the sword for my betrayal, but I will never risk the fate of my son. Return to your shackles or we fight!”

How peculiar it was, thus the situation was, that Warren had guessed the guards were being put up in some way. As it appeared, however, some of the guards were being blackmailed into working this particular job. Nevertheless, Warren tucked Navyri into the shadows behind him and stepped forward.

“Then raise your sword…” He spoke, raising his own weapon just before swinging it down on the lot.