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Re: The Fields of Flatulence
Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2020 5:58 pm
by Rakvald
“For the record, I was quiet.” Balthazar muttered.
Rakvald couldn’t help the bellowing laughter that erupted from himself at that comment. After the moment passed, he growled happily, “Time to kill him!”
His right hand was rendered useless for the moment, and bleeding internally thought his graft magic furiously struggled to staunch the internal flow. He tossed aside the small shield in his left hand, and grabbed the large kukri that had slid across the fleshy ground.
It was then that Balthazar, being in tune with the elemental fire, would notice a series of large braziers on the far end of the chamber. Along where some dilapidated columns rose. There was bound to be oil and coal in them, if he could only tip them somehow, get over there?
Meanwhile, Rakvald was decidedly not content to allow Balthazar the bulk of the glory of engaging with the fartlord, and rushed the large creature again. This time he was prepared for the bony, meaty backhand, and ducked underneath it, simultaneously chopping with his kukri at the beast’s ankle. The Fartlord roared out of both ends of his body, as his belly rumbled.
This would give Balthazar time to go over toward the braziers, and possibly lay a makeshift trap for the Fartlord. Once it was set up though, who or what would serve as bait. Then Rakvald pointed out the Fleshbound Tome, on its pedastal just meters away from the braziers. He shouted and bellowed at Balthazar, “You must not let him keep the Fleshbound Tome, my friend! Grab it, it’s what drew him here to begin with!”
Having said this, the Fartlord roared his discontent, and grabbed the Lotharro by the scruff of the neck, lifting him off the ground and looking him dead in the eye. His mouth expanded, far wider than anyne could’ve expected, as the creature seemed intent on eating the large Lotharro!
Rakvald wasn’t having that. He furrowed his brow in concentration, willing a torch into existence in his hand through governing. This he used to keep the Fartlord’s mouth at bay. And it worked, singing the Emeyan’s flesh in several places before he tossed Rakvald aside.
The Lotharro hit the pedestal that housed the Fleshbound Tome, and thus it fell to the ground, making a slide over toward Balthazar, wherever he stood.
Re: The Fields of Flatulence
Posted: Sat Feb 08, 2020 4:40 am
by Balthazar Black
Balthazar nodded in agreement with Rakvald's assessment that it was time to kill the Fartlord. To Balthazar there was no other reason to be here than to kill the Fartlord at this point. Yet he was hindered by Emea itself and his larger fears for what using his powers might bring to this place. Alas there was no time left to worry or to be concerned, it was time for action. As Balthazar prepared to charge forth with Rakvald he felt a familiar chill burn up his spine and he turned his head almost immediately in the direction of the braziers. A mischievous smile spread across the Defier's lips as a burning idea began to take over Balthazar's thought. His spark urged him to act on it and so when Rakvald charged the Fartlord, Balthazar charged towards the braziers.
There was fire to be spread... he could protect the book in the middle of the inferno if he needed to.
When the mage arrived at the braziers he stood, almost mystified, and his eyes scanned the structure for what he thought was the weakest part. Then Balthazar kicked it. the large brazier shifted slightly on the first kick and with the second Balthazar made sure he was pushing it more than he was kicking it. The first brazier tipped, spilling the oil and burning coals onto the floor and bathing the ground in flames. Balthazar's grin grew into a smile like that of a child on Zielmas as the flames wreathed the floor before him. Balthazar reached his hand out towards the mass of flames instinctively, preparing to call the fire towards him so he could make it stronger with his ether before attacking the Fartlord but before Balthazar could, Rakvald's outcry snapped him free from his flame-induced trance.
Balthazar's head snapped upwards towards Rakvald who was still engaged with the Fartlord just as the Fartlord seized him by the scruff and hoisted him into the air. Sparks began to dance across Balthazar's arms and his spark began to churn but Rakvald was faster, producing a torch and using it to keep the Fartlord at bay. Seeing this made Balthazar confident that Rakvald could manage for a few moments more so he turned and began running towards the pedestal with the flesh bound tome. Rakvald reached it first when he was thrown by the Fartlord- the Lotharro sent crashing into the pedestal and knocking the tome to the ground before Balthazar. The mage picked it up quickly and began backing away from the Fartlord and Rakvald towards the ocean of flames on the floor he'd created... flames he could feed with the book... but Balthazar was not so taken by the fire that he'd sacrifice their prize yet.
"I've got the book!”
Re: The Fields of Flatulence
Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2020 7:19 am
by Rakvald
When the elementalist laid hands on the fleshbound tome, it was as if the entire dream, or at least this part of the dreamscape, revolted against his touching it. Some things should not be. The Fleshbound tome was a part of Rakvald’s once fractured mindscape, the accumulated knowledge of dozens upon dozens of births and rebirths, and the flesh that fell under his sway as he came into his own as a sculptor of flesh.
Even so, Balthazar did indeed manage to hold the tome, and held it well in hand as a great force drew both Rakvald and the mage upwards in the air. Rakvald bolted from where the flames licked at the Fartlord, toasting his flesh and smelling of a strange and revolting combination of shit and bacon. The large lotharro ran over toward Balthazar, where he was, and laid one hand on him, and the other on the Fleshbound tome.
”Thank you for your assistance mage, I couldn’t have faced the Fartlord without you… But now it’s not safe for you, you must awaken… But before you do, a gift of lucidity?” So saying in his native Vahanic, Rakvald willed Balthazar to lucidity. The impact of knowing that this surreal experience would stick with him may have been enough to awaken Balthazar, in any event, he’d do well to awaken swiftly, for Rakvald wasn’t about to stand around and wait to see what happened when the Fartlord’s slice of Rakvald’s dreamscape came asunder.
Rakvald attempted to push Balthazar away, as he lifted himself up into the fleshy ceiling of the Fartlord’s realm. Balthazar could awaken, or follow him thus. In any case, Rakvald found himself governing a passage that took him directly out of the destruction that was unfolding around them. Within moments, he emerged from between the shape of a pig’s buttocks, and out the other end flying into the sounder moon. There he would awaken, the last vestige of the Crack in the Veil vanquished, at least for his part.
Re: The Fields of Flatulence
Posted: Fri Mar 20, 2020 2:02 am
by Balthazar Black
The tome felt strange in the mage's hands but amidst the chaos he did not notice how the dreamscape shuttered around him, at least not at first. Balthazar was focused on Rakvald, the Fartlord, and the low burning flames that had been spilled out onto the floor. Balthazar raised the tome as if to fling it into the fire when suddenly a great force pulled Balthazar into the air and a scent like a bad breakfast filled Balthazar's nostrils so suddenly that he gagged but he did manage not to vomit. Everything after that happened too quickly for Balthazar to remember. When he reemerged into the waking world he'd remember only grabbing the tome and the combat before. Everything else was lost to that stink which was left behind as the Fartlord burned.
"You're welcome, but-” Rakvald was gone before Balthazar had a chance to really say anything and the dream seemed to go with him. When Rakvald pushed Balthazar away and the dreamscape began to crumble, the mage closed his eyes. Wake up? He could do that. He could wake up. How hard would it be to wake up? The pressure of the dreamscape crumbling around him helped. There was a small fear of what would happen to him if the dream dissipated completely. That fear grew as he heard more and more crumbling around him and then suddenly the mage woke in a cold sweat.
Re: The Fields of Flatulence
Posted: Thu Mar 26, 2020 9:38 pm
by Yrmellyn Cole
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