Plotlogs
Heron In The Rush Fall Of Amenophus Sr Kah 250415
Deep within the Sahara, a secret oasis becomes the stage for a tale of vengeance and arcane might. Siofra, Sam, and Lanaeis, each bearing their unique powers and heritage, arrive in search of an artifact stolen from the giant Kah Nhet. Amidst the serene hidden oasis, their venture takes a dark turn as they confront Amenophus, a demigod thief, and his guards. The clashing of ancient magics and brute force unravels in a chaotic battle that leaves the oasis drenched in divine and mortal blood alike.
Sam and Siofra, guided by a cryptic map and driven by a thirst for retribution and power, navigate the shifting sands to reach the oasis. Siofra, with her Mediterranean features and unmatching voice, alongside Sam, clad in combat gear, tread through the heat, their determination unwavering. Lanaeis, summoned to aid in their quest, arrives with a grace that hides his formidable might. Together, they plan their approach, unaware of the visceral challenge that lies ahead.
Their confrontation at the oasis is swift and brutal. Siofra, capable of shifting into a panda, tears through the attackers with feral intensity, while Sam employs dark, siphoning magics to weaken and devour Amenophus's heart, deeming him unworthy with a ritualistic judgement. Lanaeis, from the air, ensures no enemy is left standing, releasing death from his bow with lethal precision.
What they had come for, however, the artifact, eludes them until the very end when Kah Nhet himself emerges. Revealing he had already reclaimed the stolen item, he admits to orchestrating the event to witness their conquest and to mete out justice to the pretender Amenophus and his followers. Handing the arcane tome to them, he ensures the tale of their deed and the resulting scars upon the oasis will endure in memory and legend.
The story concludes on a note of camaraderie and undefined future paths as they step away from the oasis, leaving behind the specter of violence and power reclaimed. The group, bound by their ordeal, parts ways with the promise of crossing paths again, with the desert sands as their silent witness.
(Heron in the Rush: Fall of Amenophus(SRKah):SRKah)
[Mon Apr 14 2025]
At Deep within the Sahara
Nestled amidst an endless ocean of shifting golden dunes, the secret camp is a sanctuary for weary travelers who dare venture deep into the Egyptian Sahara. Shielded from prying eyes by towering sand ridges, the area unfolds like a precious secret, a landscape both serene and surreal. Thin tendrils of lush palm fronds sway gently in the desert breeze, casting playful shadows on the shimmering pool of freshwater at the heart of the encampment. Its surface glimmers like molten silver, offering a tantalizing promise of relief in an otherwise merciless expanse.
Scattered around the oasis are humble shelters fashioned from a patchwork of sun-bleached canvas and weathered driftwood, their practicality betraying the ingenuity of those who built them. Nestled against the shade of the palms, the tents exude an air of quiet resilience, their fabric straining to contain faint whispers of the desert wind. The soft, golden glow of lanterns flickers within, casting warm light onto simple rugs embroidered with intricate patterns of ancient Egyptian artistry. A faint aroma of cardamom and grilled dates mingles with the arid scent of the desert, hinting at the quiet camaraderie of the camp's inhabitants.
It is dusk, about 56F(13C) degrees,
Siofra hits the sands from her march behind Sam, barrel leveled to the ground and to the left, out from the hidden pathway between all places, pavement or sands. A few steps and she resolves to take off her shoes. With the texture of her feet, they're redundant- even impractical. "And who is t'join us? Doctor Rose?"
A ripple in the air darkens the Saharan sun a moment, and out steps Sam, Siofra, most likely in tow. The jock is not wearing his usual green suit, but instead, he is wearing full combat gear: Hot, black, and stuffy. But nonetheless, he shakes his head to Siofra. "She's off to Boston, so it's just the two of us." The jock fishes a crude, black necklace from under his gear, and studies it: The black thing has the shape of an ouroboros, though it appears crudely crafted.
Siofra doesn't look like a local but she's not far. Mediterranean- Persian or Greek-abouts. It's only when she opens her mouth that the voice doesn't match the face. "Sure look. Well, I can panda out and follow a trail of scent- but I'd prefer to keep me t'ings." Her rifle, she hefts, that particular thing to keep.""
Siofra looks about the canvas-colored tents. "Should I search inside, then?"
"Let's see what we got to work with." Sam remarks, casting his eyes about a few moments as he seems to acclimate to the hot weather. The Jock is already sweating, though the setting sun does get rid of some of the heat.
Siofra blinks a moment of pause, then looks down to herself. "I've got t'get jewelry- oh, yer rings are stuck somewhere in me collar bone. I dunno how they got in there."
The air shimmers with heat as you materialize on the edge of the Sahara, the vast expanse of golden dunes stretching endlessly before you. The sun blazes high above, its rays bouncing off the sand like molten fire. You feel the faint hum of magic dissipating around you, the remnants of your path leaving a tingling sensation in your wake. Beside you, the two of you exchange a glance - the weight of the journey ahead reflected in your eyes. Directions that you've been given are cryptic at best, etched into a weathered piece of parchment that now feels like it's burning in your hand. The map is more suggestion than guide, with landmarks described in riddles and distances measured in paces that shift with the wind. You tuck it away, knowing that intuition and trust in yourselves will be as vital as the instructions themselves. The desert is alive, its dunes shifting and reshaping with every gust of wind, as if the land itself conspires to keep its secrets hidden.
Now Sam and Siofra find their first steps into the sand are tentative, the grains slipping and sliding beneath their boots. The heat is oppressive, wrapping around them like a heavy cloak, but the pair will press on, guided by the faint pull of magic that seems to emanate from the parchment. The two move in silence, the only sounds the crunch of sand underfoot and the occasional whisper of wind, or murmured conversation between them. As the sun begins its descent painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you spot the first landmark described in the parchment. A solitary rock formation that juts out of the sand like a sentinel. Its shadow stretches long and thin, pointing the way forward like an ancient compass. Pausing to catch a breath, the coolness of the evening air comes as a welcome relief. Now you must study the map and decipher its next hint and location.
Night falls swiftly in the desert, the stars emerging in a dazzling display that seems to stretch to infinity. The temperature plummets, and Sam and Siofra will fare well or poorly based on how well they have dressed for evening weather here in the desert. The journey feels endless, the dunes blending into one another in a disorienting maze. But they press on, driven by the promise of the hidden oasis and the secrets it holds. Together, wo figures against the vastness of the Sahara, bound by purpose and the unyielding determination to uncover what lies ahead. It feels as though this journey has already taken hours, those last rays of sunlight enough on their own to sap much of the energy and stamina from those not born to the harsh environs of the desert. Still, as Sam and Siofra crest yet another dune in an endless sea of a sand ... there in the distance, they will spy what they've come for. Signs of an Oasis, nestled within a cluster of dunes that serve well to virtually hide it from anyone who doesn't know just how to get there, or may happen upon the sight of it such as this! At last ... relief from this endless, dusty trek.
[REPEAT FOR NEW ARRIVAL] The air shimmers with heat as you materialize on the edge of the Sahara, the vast expanse of golden dunes stretching endlessly before you. The sun blazes high above, its rays bouncing off the sand like molten fire. You feel the faint hum of magic dissipating around you, the remnants of your path leaving a tingling sensation in your wake. Beside you, the two of you exchange a glance - the weight of the journey ahead reflected in your eyes. Directions that you've been given are cryptic at best, etched into a weathered piece of parchment that now feels like it's burning in your hand. The map is more suggestion than guide, with landmarks described in riddles and distances measured in paces that shift with the wind. You tuck it away, knowing that intuition and trust in yourselves will be as vital as the instructions themselves. The desert is alive, its dunes shifting and reshaping with every gust of wind, as if the land itself conspires to keep its secrets hidden.
Now Sam and Siofra find their first steps into the sand are tentative, the grains slipping and sliding beneath their boots. The heat is oppressive, wrapping around them like a heavy cloak, but the pair will press on, guided by the faint pull of magic that seems to emanate from the parchment. The two move in silence, the only sounds the crunch of sand underfoot and the occasional whisper of wind, or murmured conversation between them. As the sun begins its descent painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you spot the first landmark described in the parchment. A solitary rock formation that juts out of the sand like a sentinel. Its shadow stretches long and thin, pointing the way forward like an ancient compass. Pausing to catch a breath, the coolness of the evening air comes as a welcome relief. Now you must study the map and decipher its next hint and location.
Night falls swiftly in the desert, the stars emerging in a dazzling display that seems to stretch to infinity. The temperature plummets, and Sam and Siofra will fare well or poorly based on how well they have dressed for evening weather here in the desert. The journey feels endless, the dunes blending into one another in a disorienting maze. But they press on, driven by the promise of the hidden oasis and the secrets it holds. Together, wo figures against the vastness of the Sahara, bound by purpose and the unyielding determination to uncover what lies ahead. It feels as though this journey has already taken hours, those last rays of sunlight enough on their own to sap much of the energy and stamina from those not born to the harsh environs of the desert. Still, as Sam and Siofra crest yet another dune in an endless sea of a sand ... there in the distance, they will spy what they've come for. Signs of an Oasis, nestled within a cluster of dunes that serve well to virtually hide it from anyone who doesn't know just how to get there, or may happen upon the sight of it such as this! At last ... relief from this endless, dusty trek.
Closing his eyes a few moments, Sam holds that necklace aloft, whispering a few words as runes on the bone hanging from a silver cord around his neck glow. His tongue flicks from his mouth as he tastes the air, seemingly searching, if not physically, then perhaps arcanely. He looks over to Siofra, and chuckles lightly.
"Careful. Likely demigod presence." He then smirks. "Let's not become water, Advisor Black."
It's not heat stroke that hits Siofra, just the lingering exhaustion. Indeed, the ink of Hell sits in black lines under her skin. Well, under UNDER her skin. "Understood, haah-ah-haah-" She pants. It's more of a habit formed than a need to do so. "President Phisher."
For Lanaeis' benefit - Sam and his company are here to recover an artifact stolen from one Kah Nhet, something he has mentioned to the Angelborn prior. While his arrival may catch Sam and Siofra mildly by surprise, his arrival at the same location they were provided for this journey speaks to his presence being an allied one, at least for now!
The thoughts mentioned and spoken aloud - they only bring to a sharper sense of relief that pool of fresh-water that lies down below and beckons with refreshing coolness. Though, as the sun continues to descend beneath the horizon, the temperature in the air will only grow colder.
"Mister olive branch!" Siofra greets, a pace and many many halves of paces away from Lanaeis. She sighted him in the scope and, thankfully, looked before she fired. "Pleasure, this. Dread shame about- well, no sense in pretending. I'm, Hah-ah-hah, delira."
Stepping from a ripple in the air, Lanaeis's feet crunch in the sand as he steps from forest to desert, taking the briefest moment to adjust, before his eyes pan around to search for who the White Wolf had mentioned a time ago when discussing this mission. Moving with quick, even strides, Lanaeis approaches the pair, giving a short nod to both as his hands slide into his pockets. "President." "Syofra." Amber eyes slide off the two, falling then on the oasis below, and narrowing slightly.
didn't seem to frightened by the fact Siofra just about shot him, in fact giving a half-smile. "Good to see you too. I'll send you a check in thanks when it comes in." Lanaeis says to Siofra.
Lanaeis didn't seem to frightened by the fact Siofra just about shot him, in fact giving a half-smile. "Good to see you too. I'll send you a check in thanks when it comes in." Lanaeis says to Siofra.
Siofra gives a glance to Lanaeis's wrist cuff, and she returns to her new programming of a newly Greek grin. "'Tis quite expensive t'take a life here. Venice weren't happy, but, well."
Siofra says, nasally, "We've other business, now don't we?"
"Lanaeis." Sam nods some. "Presences down in the camp around the Oasis. Divine in nature. I'm assuming the House of Ra." A pause, and Sam tucks a dark, strangely oily hanger shaped like a serpent biting it's own tail away.
"The Tome we are after belongs to one of the Forged Fortune." He clarifies.
"Lanaeis is cool. He knows how shit works, unlike the rest of em." He pauses. "besides, the War's concluded. Suggestions for approach, Advisor Black, Lanaeis?"
Siofra turns about to spot the oasis, spying it with narrowed eyes to see if it's an illusion. Waving her hand through the air with a patter like someone trying to beckon someone dapperly towards them, she shrugs. "Shall we off, then?"
Siofra's words come with a sharp gust of cold wind as the sun disappears entirely, now. Indeed they do, and the cutting chill seems to add an eerie weight to the words. As the night grows dark in full, the rising of the moon will make the water body of the Oasis easier to spot through the dunes and the cluster of trees as well, sparkling and glinting faintly. [NOW you may take advantage of the Room's description in full as you approach and engage into the scene now in full]
shoulders the rifle on a loop- not quite hidden under her shawl as they approach a small camp. "I imagine ye' speak local, President Phisher?" Siofra queries as she approaches a lamp and gives it a knock- for lack of any other surface by which to make that particular greeting.
Glancing around, Lanaeis shakes his head. "I'm not much for seeing very far yet. But I can try to gain some altitude, get a higher vantage for a scouting if its needed." Lanaeis considers, fingers settling lightly on the oddly colored cross around his neck. "Otherwise... I say we go in. Keep out of sight for as long as possible, and observe what we can. Find the divine source, preferably."
OOC: Combat of any sort will be roleplayed out, though what you have with you will more or less be considered what you have. Lanaeis was pulled last minute, I will allow and assume he has basic armor and a weapon if nothing else - Sam and Siofra were given time to prepare. Use Showstat / Attempt or just Roleplay and make point of what you're doing and I will do my best to emulate the cooresponding skills in scenic fashion.
Lowering his voice somewhat, Sam chuckles lightly at Siofra. "Not. A. Lick."
He nods to Lanaeis, and smiles. "Good. I expect to be tied up dealing with any arcanists they might have... But I'm not alone.
A mild flicker in the shadows moves as Sam heads in, crouching down to stay somewhat out of sight as he narrows his eyes."
(fix) Lowering his voice somewhat, Sam chuckles lightly at Siofra. "Not. A. Lick."
He nods to Lanaeis, and smiles. "Good. I expect to be tied up dealing with any arcanists they might have... But I'm not alone."
A mild flicker in the shadows moves as Sam heads in, crouching down to stay somewhat out of sight as he narrows his eyes.
"Mmm." The hum bleeds into a whisper, and suddenly Siofra's floppy steps patter not at all- brownish bare feet finding a little kinship from old sands.
would be wearing a suit of armor, the golden color marred by blackened patches from what might be fire damage. Slung across his back, a massive bow is strapped, and at his side, a silver bladed sword, capped with a moonstone on its pommel. As can be assumed, Lanaeis's movements, while with attempting to be subtle... aren't very subtle at all, and really, he's more suitable to just strolling right up to the camp, with all the help his sneaking is doing.
(fix, again) Lanaeis would be wearing a suit of armor, the golden color marred by blackened patches from what might be fire damage. Slung across his back, a massive bow is strapped, and at his side, a silver bladed sword, capped with a moonstone on its pommel. As can be assumed, Lanaeis's movements, while with attempting to be subtle... aren't very subtle at all, and really, he's more suitable to just strolling right up to the camp, with all the help his sneaking is doing.
As the group of people begin to approach the camp, their differences in approach and talents will serve each other well. Lanaeis holds little to no skill in being silent, and with the armor he wears more suitable for open-field warfare than sneaking through the sands? He doesn't seem to even try. Strolling toward the camp he will serve as a useful lure, or distraction as no doubt any in the camp who might be watching are sure to be drawn to the armor-clad warrior brazenly approaching their secret hideout!
Lo and behold, Siofra seems to keep an eye out for just such a thing, and as they sneak along with Sam through the shadows around toward the outskirts of the camp with a more scenic route - it will make it easier for them to see anyone who pops up so to speak at the impending approach of the man that's with them! In the night, there are several tents and all of them seem to glow from within with the soft yellow-orange glow of a lamp or lantern. But as Lanaeis approaches and grows ever closer to the outer boundries of this campsite ... nothing seems to happen. Nothing yet ...
There is a pause in Sam's steps as he approaches the camp. He grabs that kris knife of his, and, after removing his glove, cuts across his palm, letting some blood seep to the ground. He twists his hand, seemingly grabbing a piece of hsi own shadow as he etches a simple triangle of blood into the sand. He remains silent, seemingly keeping whatever incantations he has within his own mind.
Surfing down a spit of sand, Siofra stalks forward- just past her companions and up to a tent. Her hearing is merely mortal, but it's keenly trained. She takes a look over her shoulder, enchanted, then blinks back forward. She takes her spear out, and, very carefully, attempts to cut a thin line in the nearest tent just wide enough for her black iris to peek inside.
Nope, stealth is not on the table. Lanaeis's gives up on it, and simply strides ahead, hand resting near the hilt of his sword as he walks towards the camp, eyes searching for anything dangerous. His offhand has remained pressed to his cross, the left gauntlet removed and stored somewhere so his fingers can rest against the odd metal as he walks. He attempts to move around the camp as he goes, approaching from a different angle than that of Siofra and Sam.
Footsteps crunching softly into the sand, Lanaeis will approach the tents and the boundry of the camp in full ... and it is then that there will be some reaction that comes from one of the tents closest to him. A low rumble begins, and starts to shake the ground! It grows in intensity and volume with bare hesitations between thuds and shudders as if heralding the weight of HEAVY footfalls. Flinging the flap of a tent aside, out from this tent to meet Lanaeis comes a man or goon if you will, of impossible size! Those here who've met the White Wolf know him to be a gigantic man, and yet this man might as well be bred from Ogre stock. Nine feet, ten feet tall? It is hard to say, and as fat and wide as he is tall! Ugly but the shudder of the ground lends literal and metaphorical weight to the man's strides. He holds in his hands simply what looks like the dead remains of a young tree serving as a club.
Meanwhile, in the back tent (Bat Cave), Siofra uses her spear to carefully slice a rip into the cloth fabric of the shelter. Peering inside she'll see nothing and noone. Just a lantern and a stack of things cleverly arranged to provide a vaguely human-shaped shadow for observers who've come too close! Lifting her head to gaze past the other tents - seeing this her eyes seem to catch those vague shapes that aren't quite right. Quiuckly now she begins eliminating tents here and there until there are only two left that she thinks are worth investigating, now. The one this gigant ... thing has emerged from which she cannot easily see. And one a little further into the camp, but close to it as well. Neither of these hold a light at all. Trusting on her predatory instincts, Siofra will have to skulk her way across the camp in hopes that no traps or surprised lie in wait.
Lastly - Sam has begun his own measures of magic. Not to counter what comes no ... but to siphon. Nothing comes at first, but it rarely does. As the magic around them begins to build however, Sam will begin to feel that slow trickle beginnign to reverse its flow. Soon it's not the cost of magic that he feels, but the slow surge of power and energy coming back into him. Leeching itself from the power that serves whatever purpose it has yet to reveal. Perhaps it empowers this guardian or bully creature. Perhaps it does something else entire. Focusing not on its purpose but on stealing it, Sam will have to settle for the knowledge that with each passing second now, the potency of whatever that magic IS doing is leaking away little by little.
"Evening there friend!" Lanaeis calls, pausing in favor of letting the goliath approach him. "Might I ask a name of you?" Lanaeis raises the visor of his helm, revealing a warm, friendly smile. His hand has lifted, away from his sword and more in greeting to the brute.
OOC: Clarity - Mr. Big and Ugly is visible to all, not just to Lanaeis.
Going somewhat out of sight before sitting down, Sam extends a triangle of blood around himself as a predatory grin spreads over his face. His eyes narrow, and he draws up his hands, as if beckoning something closer. He breathes in, then out, shuddering almost in some kind of enjoyment as he drinks in that power. Intoxicating... but he does seem to 'taste' it, perhaps trying to learn something. Who knows. Maybe Sam is just enjoying himself, really.
Siofra squints at the towering figure of the tents, white eye more than her black. A dark (k)night burdens the one over sensitive iris only lightly.
So she Siofra darts off. It's a quick stalk but not superhumanly so as she takes the wide angle from the giant, keeping her quartz dipped spear between two hands. If one were to wake up for the ruckus, she'd be in the opposite sight line of Lanaeis's new friend.
Lanaeis dced...
Going somewhat out of sight before sitting down, Sam extends a triangle of blood around himself as a predatory grin spreads over his face. His eyes narrow, and he draws up his hands, as if beckoning something closer. He breathes in, then out, shuddering almost in some kind of enjoyment as he drinks in that power. Intoxicating... but he does seem to 'taste' it, perhaps trying to learn something. Who knows. Maybe Sam is just enjoying himself, really. (repost)
Well, the first response for Lanaeis is just a loud gutteral sound, apparently this big brute isn't in the mood for talking! That's alright though, because as he lumbers forward the big creature gives a little bit of a stumble, as if drunk or a little off his balance. Perhaps the thing stood up too quickly? Sam focuses his attention now a little more smoothly - Now that he has that siphon in hand he can take some of that energy and apply it elsewhere. That power continues to leech its way into the man who's using it now to empower his own activity - the magic is one true for a Thief! It's /illusion/ that Sam feels, trickery and deceit is what this magic is for. As Siofra continues to approach, the tent on her left will show a small flicker of movement or motion from the inside. Nothing that she TRULY sees with her eye but ... the instinct of the animal that lives inside her skin. Lanaeis now, has a moment or two to make a choice. It's clear this big thing isn't likely to make peace but he hasn't outright tried to attack him, either. Still ... they didn't come here to play peacemakers! That stumble will give Lanaeis a moment or two of advantage if he acts swiftly.
Drawing his bow off his back, Lanaeis nods, drawing an arrow. "No talking then." And drawing it back, Lanaeis hesitates only a moment at the flicker before letting the arrow fly.
Lanaeis has Bows 44( 0)
The line of sight for Sam and Siofra both are a little harder to make, so they may not see the arrow go flying in quite the same fashion as it moves, but Lanaeis will almost certainly see that his arrow hits nothing at all, and passes THROUGH the giant creature like it might a ghost or something else ethereal or not of this plane or some other sense of intangability.
"Well that is just spectacular." Lanaeis grumbles, slinging his bow once more and, for the time being, ignoring the illusory friend he's just gained as he looks around.
"Come..." Sam's voice whispers to the wind, and he moves his hands through the sand as if drawing a map. More blood is added....payment must be made, after all. He takes a handfull of sand, and spits into it, his saliva a dark, oily ooze. This is mixed with the blood and more sand, and in the middle of the sandy map, Sam draws a pitch black ouroboros. He whispers, again, more like a command. "Come..."
From the tent nearby Siofra, there comes a sudden scream! The Sound of a man's pain comes ripping through the air as whatever causes it seems to be quite nasty. Sam knows - he can feel that hunger that rides within him consuming ... eating ... drawing more and more of this man's energies as it follows the path of sustenenace toward its end, drawing Sam's eye toward the tent and almost jerking his body toward that direction an undeniable need or desire driving him forward now. Lanaeis will watch even as the man-thing in front of him disappears, but now out of that tent come dashing out three very real if normal-sized individuals. They're all dressed in desert clothing designed to blend in and protect against the heat, and their very real weapons in spear and shortbows are already rising to take aim at Lanaeis Whoever lies inside the tent there though, is closer to Siofra and Sam - and they can both feel the gathering of something ... strength of power that with a vicious and sudden backlash - snaps that connection that Sam holds, cutting that hunger off from the power it's been feeding from!
Now the crux of their work here comes: Three combatants rush toward Lanaeis, their skill and prowess unknown. Someone strong of will and blood lies within the Tent nearby Siofra and Sam is even now being almost physically drawn toward the source of that potential food for the darkness that he serves. The time putting and end to these offenders has come nigh!
Rounding to her tent targets, or one of them, Siofra repeats her process of scalping the tarp and searching inside. "Oh. Blo-o-o-od..." Siofra giggles madly. It's louder than she intended, and right when she's opening the flap to peek through no less.
Siofra*WEH WEH WEH WEH WEH WEH WEH!!!*
The squeak, a black and white shrill roar, echoes over the space as from a Greek woman's skin unfurls a trashing, snapping animal flurrying into the tent.
There is a wince in Sam's features as that scream happens, and Sam grins, then trembles, then, as the connection breaks, the jock hisses. He spits some more of that filthy, oily black ooze, and pushes to his feet. Then, in a flicker of shadows, he is gone, reappearing slightly closer to the camp than he was before. The jock's feet dash over the sand, a flicker of light erupting around his ankles. Wings, like the messenger-gods of old, propel the jock forward as he SPRINTS towards that tent. His eyes are narrowed slits, and his expression one of just one raw emotion.... All consuming, malicious... Hunger
Setting his sights on the first of the trio, Lanaeis crouches, palm striking the ground before a pair of ghostly wings, made from golden flames shot through with hellish black, sprout behind him, and he leaps upward, aiming and landing as close to his target as he can get, already drawing his sword from its scabbard as he slams into the ground, one knee striking down before he's back on his feet and engaging the first opponent with a quick thrust, changing the blow in a moment to strike the spear with the flat of his blade and drag it out, stepping in to take advantage of the opening with his next attack as he keeps the spear out to the side.
Lanaeis has 22 striking and 30 long blades.
-------PANDAMONIUM!-------
Hunger drives Sam forward with intensity, now. He's shifting through the shadows and he's drawing near to that tent, even slipping inside bypassing the physical barrier of the cloth itself. Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) is leering inside and what she spies is enough to set off that transformatrion in her blood and bones as the inner animal starts to blend and merge with the human side of her. The tent holds the man they've come looking for here - Amenophus. The Stork, The Heron. He looks the Demigod that he is, silver eyes blazing with fury and anger at the weakened state he finds himself in. The darkness lingering around Sam can FEEL the potential weakness in him, the opportunity to strike like a coiled serpent. But he is not without protection - for Amenophus is a GOOD thief. All about him seem to dangle and jangle charms and relics of power and protection. As the sight of a panda-beast and the dark magics that drive Sam here and now, this man begins to cant swiftly in archaic languages, chants of power or shielding perhaps each new chant coming with a fresh syumbol or relic he fishes out to put his effort into. Rapidly, he begins to slip from one to the next with increasing desperation as he finds his power waning ....
Lanaeis moves swiftly to take advantage of those rushing in against him, and his own skill here leaves him well-suited for it. There's a quick, soft sound as his blade slides into the gut of that first enemy and exits with a wet sound, and the splash of blood against hte cool sand. Steam rises fro mthe wound even as the man falls - no Sanctuary here ot protect him. Slapping the spear of the second aside and wide, his blade will flash again as he steps into the defense of that weapon, pressing the close quarters against his own enemies with ease.
Realizing the ease with which he had eliminated the first enemy, Lanaeis steps back, then lunging into a wide, sweeping arc with his blade, cleaving into both of the remaining enemies before disengaging again if they still live; darting back to get some distance from the pair.
The red, murderous aura around Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda)'s rather begets her intent. Not that it's needed, no. She winds up her arm like a Tekken character and slashes her way in, burrowing and snapping at the man inside with an energy that this particular mammal should not have the calories to afford. Her eyes dilate, and as she opens her budding sense of feeding to the world, a happy pant crosses her lips.
A pause, and Sam looks the thief over. He takes that knife of his into his hand, and approaches slowly. He makes eye-contact with the man, and hisses low.
A pause. He freezes. He looks at one of the symbols hung there. "That symbol... the symbol of..." Then, without warning, he steps forward. Not his knife, but his fist comes forward. His expression is like a highschool, schoolyard bully who just yanked the carpet under some guy's feet. "Psych!" A fist flies towards Amenophus's kidney.
The gap between pure mortals and the supernatural - the gap is often insurmountable for those without the strength and stamina. The ability to cleave through their enemies and leap through the air to take the fight to them with the might and fear that such a thing can provoke. The first man still holds his insides in, and that cleaving swipe coming from Lanaeis forces the other two back as they have to re-take stock of their enemy. They seem more appropriately wary of Lanaeis now, though they circle about him now with a more cautious approach. Now come the probing jabs and pokes of more veteran fighters no longer underestimating their opponant! In the tent, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) comes crashing through the tent with slashes and claws abound! Which of course .... tears the tent DOWN! Leaping forward, Sam's knife will find purchase in the man's flesh though it's hard to say if his aim is true because the whole thing comes down around them in a massive jumble. Now Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) is clawing and slashing eveyr which way blindly, Sam and Amenophus are embraced in some wrapped up jumble and tangle of bodies as the Dark magic user no doubt tries to drive home that knife again and again! Now that panda beast is not just eager to riup something apart it's natural instincts are driven into overdrive iwht the need to ESCAPE AND RIP APART whatever this thing that's covering them up now! UNACCETPABLE!
Lanaeis has no trouble using his own blade to keep the two remaining desert fighters at length, though he'll find that they seem to be used to working together. To effectively attack one, he'll have to expose his falnk to the other.
Eyes alight with the thrill of combat, again the wings manifest from Lanaeis's back. The difference this time is that they do not fade. In fact, as he jumps and unslings his bow, sheathing his sword in a quick movement, they bring him aloft and hold him there as he takes aim and releases a shot down at the first of the two desert warriors. His eyes flicker briefly to the tent as it collapses, but don't linger long there, snapping back to the progress of his arrow as it is launched from his bow.
Rolling with the jumble of tent, Sam keep stabbing... everywhere but the face. How strange. He starts stabbing home that knife, all the while trying to make sure the thief-demi-god is close to him... too close for anything but short blades and fisticuffs... Exactly how Sam likes it.
As he stabs again and again, Sam just hisses.
And teeth! Oh, how convenient? While Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) sadly lacks the strength of its greater ursine cousins, its teeth and claws are no less sharp. Shaking and snarling in a true cacophony of movement, the would-be predator's constant rapid fire sniff and sneeze of its nose searches the mess of bodies for the right meat to chomp- separating the jocky President with the foreign entity.
In truth, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda)'s claws and teeth are stronger than her natural cousins of course, her own supernatural abilities allowing them to tear through stronger stuff than they normally might! Her nose leads her true, able to tell the difference between them as she tries to rip her way out of that tent untill all that is left is largely a tattered, shredded mass of cloth ribbons that start to be picked up by the breeze and wind of the night desert air, floating off like spectral threads. Sam's knife and that oily smell that makes him stand out so easily against Amenophus to the panda, it drives home over and over. Each wound healing from the Demigod's own regeneration but those made by his knife heal more slowly than they should, each one compounding the weariness until Sam can fee once more than siphoning of his power beginning. The waning strength of his fighting back until Sam realizes in his frenzy that the body entangled with his own has gone limp. Still breathing, but that knife drives into defenseless flesh until the Jock can regain his own composure. The smell of fresh air and not being constrained so close to that smell of Obsidian is no doubt a help for Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) as well.
Lanaeis suddenly rises up into the air, and it's the perfect choice for him. Bow coming to the forefront - two arrows come flying through the air toward their targets. And with the advantage once more of surprise, there seems little for them to do but find their own demise. Finding their mark in shoulder, heart, neck, eye - those arrows will fell the two remaining fighters .. and the scene grows quiet. Now it is the heavy panting of breath ... the dripping of blood onto sand and the quiet moans of the felled thief. Once a peaceful, serene moment of nature and beauty - now a bloodbath; a mess.
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) shakes her coat out, tongue trying to push out a mess of cloth that's gotten stuck in her mouth. A gag and a cough, and a new burst of energy has her pawing at the body- leaving little red marks like his flesh is in the way of a book. Her happy snarl diminishes as one ceases to suffer from her actions, leaving just a happy pant with little patches of blood in the black.
Once the body has gone limp, Sam pushes up to his feet slowly. A cut, and the mans shirt is removed. Sam then carves a circular shape into the still breathing man's body.
"By Blood, Will and Devotion..." Sam's voice is slightly twisted, and he hisses out low as a shadow around him twists closer.
"I open the Maw of Duat!" He plunges his knife into the man's chest, then his hand, and out comes his heart.
A few moments, that heart is held in Sam's hand. He holds up his other hand, like a scale, balancing that black knife on it. Slowly, the side with the knife lowers, and Sam speaks, one word.
"Unworthy"
There is a squelch, and the jock starts to devour that heart, the shadows around him deepening as he does so.
When Alice saw the cat smile did she reciprocate? When God giggles is it contagious? It is the context that makes someone adored, and as Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) squeals and snorts, the deeper discernment of horror is projected. Fur stronger than kevlar, sewing itself up. A mind too smart for its body, finding the ability to make the words, 'Ih ee deh?'
And yet, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) does take a few steps back as President Sam eats a man's heart.
Subsumed by the presence that tags along within him, Sam begins to devour that heart even as it provides those last faint beats that spill forve the vital life's blood still contained inside as it is deemed unworthy. The flesh is tough, and stringy between the teeth like any tough muscle meat but the blood sings with the power of the Divine. Those silver eyes they speak to the potency of the blood, and even his regenration is not enough to spare him from this. Sam and Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) both will watch those last vestiges of suffering as the light that provided a sense of virility to those orbs of silver begins to fade until there is little left but the dull glassy stare of the soon-dead, or recently-dead. Meanwhile, a man slowly dies from a sword-wound to the gut out in the sand, his misery is lasting and painful. The two Lanaeis has brought down with arrows died more swiftly, mercifully perhaps but not that first. Gut wounds often kill, but never quickly. That step back seems wise, for Sam .. is something more and something far different in this moment. Shadows and silouhettes dance about him as if the Nightmare leeches through into the physical plane - hints of facial features too horrific to describe in tangible words, smiles and teeth that birth nightmares ... they feast upon the heart of this god-child.
ANd yet ... in the after-math. No book is to be found among the tents. No sign of the thing they truly came for. But soon - as Sam will eventually re-find his own sense of being and the mind of the woman and less of the beast begins to reassert itself within Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda). As Lanaeis resettles his feet onto the ground, now soaked with the death throes and blood of their enemies ... the sound of a soft clap comes. Clap. Clap. Soft, polite, toeing the line but not quite crossing into the realm of something condescending.
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) stands on her hind legs, a whopping 6 feet tall! She starts to clap in response, but then stops.
Instead, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) stands next to Sam like a bouncer, bloody arms crossed and looking mysteriously across the desert wastes as wind collects sand into her fur.
Stepping out from the night ... it's his silver hair that comes noticable first. Not unruly no, but recently braided into something more tight and compact to hang over a shoulder. Large, looming tall but somehow seeming to belong with every step he takes across what now seems a wasteland of a battlefield where once an Oasis stood. The water is still fresh however, and the Desert will soon forget the people here. Kah Nhet himself appears from that chaos and aftermath standing silently as he waits for those gathered to regain of themselves. Intent blue eyes watch from bronzed skin in silence, patient.
Landing on the sand as his wings flicker from existence, Lanaeis joins the others shortly after the demigod is handled. When Kah steps from nowhere, its a nod that he receives from Lanaeis, who seems eerily familiar with this occurrence.
A few moments, and Sam loses himself entirely in some kind of internal shudder. He hisses, and his nostrils flare. Like he's on some very good kind of drugs.
Then, a sound. He snaps his attention to the source of it, the jock shuddering as he seems to be attempting to ground himself, trying to look like he has in fact gone to one knee intentionall.
Then, the jock seems to recognize the man for who he is, and he lets himself sag somewhat more visibly, retching as he spits out a vile, oily black ooze onto the sands.
"Hey Big guy!" He nods to Kah.
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda)'s paws hit the dirt. It just feels redundant to posture to a creature that's taller. She ambles a few steps forward and sits, watching with an orb of black and an orb of white.
"I have a confession to make" Calls out the giant of a man. His soft-spoken baritone voice carrying with a melody as it always does and yet somehow never being hard to hear when it's directed at someone. With a gesture of his hand, from somewhere comes pulling the very thing they'd come for. Golden and shining even in the scant moonlight - what settles into Kah's palm is something to behold. A heavy-looking collection of solid golden plates that have been embossed and etched with ancient Hieroglyphs on both sides like the pages of a book. Bound together, this stack of plates is threaded into a loose collection by ... some kind of leather that might be best left un-invesitgated if one's stomach is squeamish. (Human skin? probably). But there it is - in those simple plates a collection of magical knowledge, arcane rites, and secrets as old as the sand beneath their feet. "I recovered this some days ago ... but I wanted to see you take vengeance on this pretender. I knew you would not disappoint me." His voice is quiet - serene almost as if he takes some sense of ... harmony from being here, in this place.
OOC: Okay! Kah is here, but only so I could drop off the item! We are about finished of course, but it won't let me summon him out so to avoid too much damage, let us go ahead and wrap up!
Kah probably meant to hand that over along with the messenger satchel there ....
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) looks to Sam for the suitable reaction. She's got quite the poker-face, stuck in a snarl as it is. A great Fae might fleshform her close for the youth of that happiness.
Thankfully, none are around for this little faux paux.
Nodding to Kah, Lanaeis steps forward, dipping his chin slightly as he does. "Good that you have it back." Lanaeis says, before he's back by Sam, offering a hand up to his feet if necessary. "While the desert may be some people's thing, its not mine I'm afraid." Lanaeis admits, wiping a hand over his forehead, and forgetting the gauntlet on said hand.
A chuckle, then a laugh, then a utterly loud roar of a laugh escapes Sam's lips, and he lets himself fall backwards onto the sands, just shaking his head as he snorts, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Shiiiiit, you know you just gotta ask, man?" He just continues chuckling, his body trembling as he snorts. He slowly pushes to his feet, and looks over to Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) and Lanaeis. "Thanks for the asssist. Lanaeis, could ya please create a path for us?" He gestures a little at himself, his fingers and hands trembling from exhaustion. "I don't think I can really do much of nothing."
"Of course." Lanaeis says, stepping forward and beginning to work the gestures of the pathing. "I'll be around some time. I hope to see you out of your den." Lanaeis adds to Kah with a small smile as the way begins to form. "It gets boring without you in the Wilds."
This only brings a wolfish smile to Kah's face, as he passes the book of plates along to Sam. "But where would the fun in this be? Think of the stories that will be told about this." He glances toward Lanaeis with that same grin. "I ensured that one of those three would not die. The man bleeding from his stomach will survive to tell of this." He says this as if it is command, not suggestion or theory. THen he's dipping his head and stepping back from the group. "And, this tome .. you will be well familiar with the kind of energies it will bring. The blood sacrifice is good. For this, it was worthy."
Sam and Siofra, guided by a cryptic map and driven by a thirst for retribution and power, navigate the shifting sands to reach the oasis. Siofra, with her Mediterranean features and unmatching voice, alongside Sam, clad in combat gear, tread through the heat, their determination unwavering. Lanaeis, summoned to aid in their quest, arrives with a grace that hides his formidable might. Together, they plan their approach, unaware of the visceral challenge that lies ahead.
Their confrontation at the oasis is swift and brutal. Siofra, capable of shifting into a panda, tears through the attackers with feral intensity, while Sam employs dark, siphoning magics to weaken and devour Amenophus's heart, deeming him unworthy with a ritualistic judgement. Lanaeis, from the air, ensures no enemy is left standing, releasing death from his bow with lethal precision.
What they had come for, however, the artifact, eludes them until the very end when Kah Nhet himself emerges. Revealing he had already reclaimed the stolen item, he admits to orchestrating the event to witness their conquest and to mete out justice to the pretender Amenophus and his followers. Handing the arcane tome to them, he ensures the tale of their deed and the resulting scars upon the oasis will endure in memory and legend.
The story concludes on a note of camaraderie and undefined future paths as they step away from the oasis, leaving behind the specter of violence and power reclaimed. The group, bound by their ordeal, parts ways with the promise of crossing paths again, with the desert sands as their silent witness.
(Heron in the Rush: Fall of Amenophus(SRKah):SRKah)
[Mon Apr 14 2025]
At Deep within the Sahara
Nestled amidst an endless ocean of shifting golden dunes, the secret camp is a sanctuary for weary travelers who dare venture deep into the Egyptian Sahara. Shielded from prying eyes by towering sand ridges, the area unfolds like a precious secret, a landscape both serene and surreal. Thin tendrils of lush palm fronds sway gently in the desert breeze, casting playful shadows on the shimmering pool of freshwater at the heart of the encampment. Its surface glimmers like molten silver, offering a tantalizing promise of relief in an otherwise merciless expanse.
Scattered around the oasis are humble shelters fashioned from a patchwork of sun-bleached canvas and weathered driftwood, their practicality betraying the ingenuity of those who built them. Nestled against the shade of the palms, the tents exude an air of quiet resilience, their fabric straining to contain faint whispers of the desert wind. The soft, golden glow of lanterns flickers within, casting warm light onto simple rugs embroidered with intricate patterns of ancient Egyptian artistry. A faint aroma of cardamom and grilled dates mingles with the arid scent of the desert, hinting at the quiet camaraderie of the camp's inhabitants.
It is dusk, about 56F(13C) degrees,
Siofra hits the sands from her march behind Sam, barrel leveled to the ground and to the left, out from the hidden pathway between all places, pavement or sands. A few steps and she resolves to take off her shoes. With the texture of her feet, they're redundant- even impractical. "And who is t'join us? Doctor Rose?"
A ripple in the air darkens the Saharan sun a moment, and out steps Sam, Siofra, most likely in tow. The jock is not wearing his usual green suit, but instead, he is wearing full combat gear: Hot, black, and stuffy. But nonetheless, he shakes his head to Siofra. "She's off to Boston, so it's just the two of us." The jock fishes a crude, black necklace from under his gear, and studies it: The black thing has the shape of an ouroboros, though it appears crudely crafted.
Siofra doesn't look like a local but she's not far. Mediterranean- Persian or Greek-abouts. It's only when she opens her mouth that the voice doesn't match the face. "Sure look. Well, I can panda out and follow a trail of scent- but I'd prefer to keep me t'ings." Her rifle, she hefts, that particular thing to keep.""
Siofra looks about the canvas-colored tents. "Should I search inside, then?"
"Let's see what we got to work with." Sam remarks, casting his eyes about a few moments as he seems to acclimate to the hot weather. The Jock is already sweating, though the setting sun does get rid of some of the heat.
Siofra blinks a moment of pause, then looks down to herself. "I've got t'get jewelry- oh, yer rings are stuck somewhere in me collar bone. I dunno how they got in there."
The air shimmers with heat as you materialize on the edge of the Sahara, the vast expanse of golden dunes stretching endlessly before you. The sun blazes high above, its rays bouncing off the sand like molten fire. You feel the faint hum of magic dissipating around you, the remnants of your path leaving a tingling sensation in your wake. Beside you, the two of you exchange a glance - the weight of the journey ahead reflected in your eyes. Directions that you've been given are cryptic at best, etched into a weathered piece of parchment that now feels like it's burning in your hand. The map is more suggestion than guide, with landmarks described in riddles and distances measured in paces that shift with the wind. You tuck it away, knowing that intuition and trust in yourselves will be as vital as the instructions themselves. The desert is alive, its dunes shifting and reshaping with every gust of wind, as if the land itself conspires to keep its secrets hidden.
Now Sam and Siofra find their first steps into the sand are tentative, the grains slipping and sliding beneath their boots. The heat is oppressive, wrapping around them like a heavy cloak, but the pair will press on, guided by the faint pull of magic that seems to emanate from the parchment. The two move in silence, the only sounds the crunch of sand underfoot and the occasional whisper of wind, or murmured conversation between them. As the sun begins its descent painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you spot the first landmark described in the parchment. A solitary rock formation that juts out of the sand like a sentinel. Its shadow stretches long and thin, pointing the way forward like an ancient compass. Pausing to catch a breath, the coolness of the evening air comes as a welcome relief. Now you must study the map and decipher its next hint and location.
Night falls swiftly in the desert, the stars emerging in a dazzling display that seems to stretch to infinity. The temperature plummets, and Sam and Siofra will fare well or poorly based on how well they have dressed for evening weather here in the desert. The journey feels endless, the dunes blending into one another in a disorienting maze. But they press on, driven by the promise of the hidden oasis and the secrets it holds. Together, wo figures against the vastness of the Sahara, bound by purpose and the unyielding determination to uncover what lies ahead. It feels as though this journey has already taken hours, those last rays of sunlight enough on their own to sap much of the energy and stamina from those not born to the harsh environs of the desert. Still, as Sam and Siofra crest yet another dune in an endless sea of a sand ... there in the distance, they will spy what they've come for. Signs of an Oasis, nestled within a cluster of dunes that serve well to virtually hide it from anyone who doesn't know just how to get there, or may happen upon the sight of it such as this! At last ... relief from this endless, dusty trek.
[REPEAT FOR NEW ARRIVAL] The air shimmers with heat as you materialize on the edge of the Sahara, the vast expanse of golden dunes stretching endlessly before you. The sun blazes high above, its rays bouncing off the sand like molten fire. You feel the faint hum of magic dissipating around you, the remnants of your path leaving a tingling sensation in your wake. Beside you, the two of you exchange a glance - the weight of the journey ahead reflected in your eyes. Directions that you've been given are cryptic at best, etched into a weathered piece of parchment that now feels like it's burning in your hand. The map is more suggestion than guide, with landmarks described in riddles and distances measured in paces that shift with the wind. You tuck it away, knowing that intuition and trust in yourselves will be as vital as the instructions themselves. The desert is alive, its dunes shifting and reshaping with every gust of wind, as if the land itself conspires to keep its secrets hidden.
Now Sam and Siofra find their first steps into the sand are tentative, the grains slipping and sliding beneath their boots. The heat is oppressive, wrapping around them like a heavy cloak, but the pair will press on, guided by the faint pull of magic that seems to emanate from the parchment. The two move in silence, the only sounds the crunch of sand underfoot and the occasional whisper of wind, or murmured conversation between them. As the sun begins its descent painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you spot the first landmark described in the parchment. A solitary rock formation that juts out of the sand like a sentinel. Its shadow stretches long and thin, pointing the way forward like an ancient compass. Pausing to catch a breath, the coolness of the evening air comes as a welcome relief. Now you must study the map and decipher its next hint and location.
Night falls swiftly in the desert, the stars emerging in a dazzling display that seems to stretch to infinity. The temperature plummets, and Sam and Siofra will fare well or poorly based on how well they have dressed for evening weather here in the desert. The journey feels endless, the dunes blending into one another in a disorienting maze. But they press on, driven by the promise of the hidden oasis and the secrets it holds. Together, wo figures against the vastness of the Sahara, bound by purpose and the unyielding determination to uncover what lies ahead. It feels as though this journey has already taken hours, those last rays of sunlight enough on their own to sap much of the energy and stamina from those not born to the harsh environs of the desert. Still, as Sam and Siofra crest yet another dune in an endless sea of a sand ... there in the distance, they will spy what they've come for. Signs of an Oasis, nestled within a cluster of dunes that serve well to virtually hide it from anyone who doesn't know just how to get there, or may happen upon the sight of it such as this! At last ... relief from this endless, dusty trek.
Closing his eyes a few moments, Sam holds that necklace aloft, whispering a few words as runes on the bone hanging from a silver cord around his neck glow. His tongue flicks from his mouth as he tastes the air, seemingly searching, if not physically, then perhaps arcanely. He looks over to Siofra, and chuckles lightly.
"Careful. Likely demigod presence." He then smirks. "Let's not become water, Advisor Black."
It's not heat stroke that hits Siofra, just the lingering exhaustion. Indeed, the ink of Hell sits in black lines under her skin. Well, under UNDER her skin. "Understood, haah-ah-haah-" She pants. It's more of a habit formed than a need to do so. "President Phisher."
For Lanaeis' benefit - Sam and his company are here to recover an artifact stolen from one Kah Nhet, something he has mentioned to the Angelborn prior. While his arrival may catch Sam and Siofra mildly by surprise, his arrival at the same location they were provided for this journey speaks to his presence being an allied one, at least for now!
The thoughts mentioned and spoken aloud - they only bring to a sharper sense of relief that pool of fresh-water that lies down below and beckons with refreshing coolness. Though, as the sun continues to descend beneath the horizon, the temperature in the air will only grow colder.
"Mister olive branch!" Siofra greets, a pace and many many halves of paces away from Lanaeis. She sighted him in the scope and, thankfully, looked before she fired. "Pleasure, this. Dread shame about- well, no sense in pretending. I'm, Hah-ah-hah, delira."
Stepping from a ripple in the air, Lanaeis's feet crunch in the sand as he steps from forest to desert, taking the briefest moment to adjust, before his eyes pan around to search for who the White Wolf had mentioned a time ago when discussing this mission. Moving with quick, even strides, Lanaeis approaches the pair, giving a short nod to both as his hands slide into his pockets. "President." "Syofra." Amber eyes slide off the two, falling then on the oasis below, and narrowing slightly.
didn't seem to frightened by the fact Siofra just about shot him, in fact giving a half-smile. "Good to see you too. I'll send you a check in thanks when it comes in." Lanaeis says to Siofra.
Lanaeis didn't seem to frightened by the fact Siofra just about shot him, in fact giving a half-smile. "Good to see you too. I'll send you a check in thanks when it comes in." Lanaeis says to Siofra.
Siofra gives a glance to Lanaeis's wrist cuff, and she returns to her new programming of a newly Greek grin. "'Tis quite expensive t'take a life here. Venice weren't happy, but, well."
Siofra says, nasally, "We've other business, now don't we?"
"Lanaeis." Sam nods some. "Presences down in the camp around the Oasis. Divine in nature. I'm assuming the House of Ra." A pause, and Sam tucks a dark, strangely oily hanger shaped like a serpent biting it's own tail away.
"The Tome we are after belongs to one of the Forged Fortune." He clarifies.
"Lanaeis is cool. He knows how shit works, unlike the rest of em." He pauses. "besides, the War's concluded. Suggestions for approach, Advisor Black, Lanaeis?"
Siofra turns about to spot the oasis, spying it with narrowed eyes to see if it's an illusion. Waving her hand through the air with a patter like someone trying to beckon someone dapperly towards them, she shrugs. "Shall we off, then?"
Siofra's words come with a sharp gust of cold wind as the sun disappears entirely, now. Indeed they do, and the cutting chill seems to add an eerie weight to the words. As the night grows dark in full, the rising of the moon will make the water body of the Oasis easier to spot through the dunes and the cluster of trees as well, sparkling and glinting faintly. [NOW you may take advantage of the Room's description in full as you approach and engage into the scene now in full]
shoulders the rifle on a loop- not quite hidden under her shawl as they approach a small camp. "I imagine ye' speak local, President Phisher?" Siofra queries as she approaches a lamp and gives it a knock- for lack of any other surface by which to make that particular greeting.
Glancing around, Lanaeis shakes his head. "I'm not much for seeing very far yet. But I can try to gain some altitude, get a higher vantage for a scouting if its needed." Lanaeis considers, fingers settling lightly on the oddly colored cross around his neck. "Otherwise... I say we go in. Keep out of sight for as long as possible, and observe what we can. Find the divine source, preferably."
OOC: Combat of any sort will be roleplayed out, though what you have with you will more or less be considered what you have. Lanaeis was pulled last minute, I will allow and assume he has basic armor and a weapon if nothing else - Sam and Siofra were given time to prepare. Use Showstat / Attempt or just Roleplay and make point of what you're doing and I will do my best to emulate the cooresponding skills in scenic fashion.
Lowering his voice somewhat, Sam chuckles lightly at Siofra. "Not. A. Lick."
He nods to Lanaeis, and smiles. "Good. I expect to be tied up dealing with any arcanists they might have... But I'm not alone.
A mild flicker in the shadows moves as Sam heads in, crouching down to stay somewhat out of sight as he narrows his eyes."
(fix) Lowering his voice somewhat, Sam chuckles lightly at Siofra. "Not. A. Lick."
He nods to Lanaeis, and smiles. "Good. I expect to be tied up dealing with any arcanists they might have... But I'm not alone."
A mild flicker in the shadows moves as Sam heads in, crouching down to stay somewhat out of sight as he narrows his eyes.
"Mmm." The hum bleeds into a whisper, and suddenly Siofra's floppy steps patter not at all- brownish bare feet finding a little kinship from old sands.
would be wearing a suit of armor, the golden color marred by blackened patches from what might be fire damage. Slung across his back, a massive bow is strapped, and at his side, a silver bladed sword, capped with a moonstone on its pommel. As can be assumed, Lanaeis's movements, while with attempting to be subtle... aren't very subtle at all, and really, he's more suitable to just strolling right up to the camp, with all the help his sneaking is doing.
(fix, again) Lanaeis would be wearing a suit of armor, the golden color marred by blackened patches from what might be fire damage. Slung across his back, a massive bow is strapped, and at his side, a silver bladed sword, capped with a moonstone on its pommel. As can be assumed, Lanaeis's movements, while with attempting to be subtle... aren't very subtle at all, and really, he's more suitable to just strolling right up to the camp, with all the help his sneaking is doing.
As the group of people begin to approach the camp, their differences in approach and talents will serve each other well. Lanaeis holds little to no skill in being silent, and with the armor he wears more suitable for open-field warfare than sneaking through the sands? He doesn't seem to even try. Strolling toward the camp he will serve as a useful lure, or distraction as no doubt any in the camp who might be watching are sure to be drawn to the armor-clad warrior brazenly approaching their secret hideout!
Lo and behold, Siofra seems to keep an eye out for just such a thing, and as they sneak along with Sam through the shadows around toward the outskirts of the camp with a more scenic route - it will make it easier for them to see anyone who pops up so to speak at the impending approach of the man that's with them! In the night, there are several tents and all of them seem to glow from within with the soft yellow-orange glow of a lamp or lantern. But as Lanaeis approaches and grows ever closer to the outer boundries of this campsite ... nothing seems to happen. Nothing yet ...
There is a pause in Sam's steps as he approaches the camp. He grabs that kris knife of his, and, after removing his glove, cuts across his palm, letting some blood seep to the ground. He twists his hand, seemingly grabbing a piece of hsi own shadow as he etches a simple triangle of blood into the sand. He remains silent, seemingly keeping whatever incantations he has within his own mind.
Surfing down a spit of sand, Siofra stalks forward- just past her companions and up to a tent. Her hearing is merely mortal, but it's keenly trained. She takes a look over her shoulder, enchanted, then blinks back forward. She takes her spear out, and, very carefully, attempts to cut a thin line in the nearest tent just wide enough for her black iris to peek inside.
Nope, stealth is not on the table. Lanaeis's gives up on it, and simply strides ahead, hand resting near the hilt of his sword as he walks towards the camp, eyes searching for anything dangerous. His offhand has remained pressed to his cross, the left gauntlet removed and stored somewhere so his fingers can rest against the odd metal as he walks. He attempts to move around the camp as he goes, approaching from a different angle than that of Siofra and Sam.
Footsteps crunching softly into the sand, Lanaeis will approach the tents and the boundry of the camp in full ... and it is then that there will be some reaction that comes from one of the tents closest to him. A low rumble begins, and starts to shake the ground! It grows in intensity and volume with bare hesitations between thuds and shudders as if heralding the weight of HEAVY footfalls. Flinging the flap of a tent aside, out from this tent to meet Lanaeis comes a man or goon if you will, of impossible size! Those here who've met the White Wolf know him to be a gigantic man, and yet this man might as well be bred from Ogre stock. Nine feet, ten feet tall? It is hard to say, and as fat and wide as he is tall! Ugly but the shudder of the ground lends literal and metaphorical weight to the man's strides. He holds in his hands simply what looks like the dead remains of a young tree serving as a club.
Meanwhile, in the back tent (Bat Cave), Siofra uses her spear to carefully slice a rip into the cloth fabric of the shelter. Peering inside she'll see nothing and noone. Just a lantern and a stack of things cleverly arranged to provide a vaguely human-shaped shadow for observers who've come too close! Lifting her head to gaze past the other tents - seeing this her eyes seem to catch those vague shapes that aren't quite right. Quiuckly now she begins eliminating tents here and there until there are only two left that she thinks are worth investigating, now. The one this gigant ... thing has emerged from which she cannot easily see. And one a little further into the camp, but close to it as well. Neither of these hold a light at all. Trusting on her predatory instincts, Siofra will have to skulk her way across the camp in hopes that no traps or surprised lie in wait.
Lastly - Sam has begun his own measures of magic. Not to counter what comes no ... but to siphon. Nothing comes at first, but it rarely does. As the magic around them begins to build however, Sam will begin to feel that slow trickle beginnign to reverse its flow. Soon it's not the cost of magic that he feels, but the slow surge of power and energy coming back into him. Leeching itself from the power that serves whatever purpose it has yet to reveal. Perhaps it empowers this guardian or bully creature. Perhaps it does something else entire. Focusing not on its purpose but on stealing it, Sam will have to settle for the knowledge that with each passing second now, the potency of whatever that magic IS doing is leaking away little by little.
"Evening there friend!" Lanaeis calls, pausing in favor of letting the goliath approach him. "Might I ask a name of you?" Lanaeis raises the visor of his helm, revealing a warm, friendly smile. His hand has lifted, away from his sword and more in greeting to the brute.
OOC: Clarity - Mr. Big and Ugly is visible to all, not just to Lanaeis.
Going somewhat out of sight before sitting down, Sam extends a triangle of blood around himself as a predatory grin spreads over his face. His eyes narrow, and he draws up his hands, as if beckoning something closer. He breathes in, then out, shuddering almost in some kind of enjoyment as he drinks in that power. Intoxicating... but he does seem to 'taste' it, perhaps trying to learn something. Who knows. Maybe Sam is just enjoying himself, really.
Siofra squints at the towering figure of the tents, white eye more than her black. A dark (k)night burdens the one over sensitive iris only lightly.
So she Siofra darts off. It's a quick stalk but not superhumanly so as she takes the wide angle from the giant, keeping her quartz dipped spear between two hands. If one were to wake up for the ruckus, she'd be in the opposite sight line of Lanaeis's new friend.
Lanaeis dced...
Going somewhat out of sight before sitting down, Sam extends a triangle of blood around himself as a predatory grin spreads over his face. His eyes narrow, and he draws up his hands, as if beckoning something closer. He breathes in, then out, shuddering almost in some kind of enjoyment as he drinks in that power. Intoxicating... but he does seem to 'taste' it, perhaps trying to learn something. Who knows. Maybe Sam is just enjoying himself, really. (repost)
Well, the first response for Lanaeis is just a loud gutteral sound, apparently this big brute isn't in the mood for talking! That's alright though, because as he lumbers forward the big creature gives a little bit of a stumble, as if drunk or a little off his balance. Perhaps the thing stood up too quickly? Sam focuses his attention now a little more smoothly - Now that he has that siphon in hand he can take some of that energy and apply it elsewhere. That power continues to leech its way into the man who's using it now to empower his own activity - the magic is one true for a Thief! It's /illusion/ that Sam feels, trickery and deceit is what this magic is for. As Siofra continues to approach, the tent on her left will show a small flicker of movement or motion from the inside. Nothing that she TRULY sees with her eye but ... the instinct of the animal that lives inside her skin. Lanaeis now, has a moment or two to make a choice. It's clear this big thing isn't likely to make peace but he hasn't outright tried to attack him, either. Still ... they didn't come here to play peacemakers! That stumble will give Lanaeis a moment or two of advantage if he acts swiftly.
Drawing his bow off his back, Lanaeis nods, drawing an arrow. "No talking then." And drawing it back, Lanaeis hesitates only a moment at the flicker before letting the arrow fly.
Lanaeis has Bows 44( 0)
The line of sight for Sam and Siofra both are a little harder to make, so they may not see the arrow go flying in quite the same fashion as it moves, but Lanaeis will almost certainly see that his arrow hits nothing at all, and passes THROUGH the giant creature like it might a ghost or something else ethereal or not of this plane or some other sense of intangability.
"Well that is just spectacular." Lanaeis grumbles, slinging his bow once more and, for the time being, ignoring the illusory friend he's just gained as he looks around.
"Come..." Sam's voice whispers to the wind, and he moves his hands through the sand as if drawing a map. More blood is added....payment must be made, after all. He takes a handfull of sand, and spits into it, his saliva a dark, oily ooze. This is mixed with the blood and more sand, and in the middle of the sandy map, Sam draws a pitch black ouroboros. He whispers, again, more like a command. "Come..."
From the tent nearby Siofra, there comes a sudden scream! The Sound of a man's pain comes ripping through the air as whatever causes it seems to be quite nasty. Sam knows - he can feel that hunger that rides within him consuming ... eating ... drawing more and more of this man's energies as it follows the path of sustenenace toward its end, drawing Sam's eye toward the tent and almost jerking his body toward that direction an undeniable need or desire driving him forward now. Lanaeis will watch even as the man-thing in front of him disappears, but now out of that tent come dashing out three very real if normal-sized individuals. They're all dressed in desert clothing designed to blend in and protect against the heat, and their very real weapons in spear and shortbows are already rising to take aim at Lanaeis Whoever lies inside the tent there though, is closer to Siofra and Sam - and they can both feel the gathering of something ... strength of power that with a vicious and sudden backlash - snaps that connection that Sam holds, cutting that hunger off from the power it's been feeding from!
Now the crux of their work here comes: Three combatants rush toward Lanaeis, their skill and prowess unknown. Someone strong of will and blood lies within the Tent nearby Siofra and Sam is even now being almost physically drawn toward the source of that potential food for the darkness that he serves. The time putting and end to these offenders has come nigh!
Rounding to her tent targets, or one of them, Siofra repeats her process of scalping the tarp and searching inside. "Oh. Blo-o-o-od..." Siofra giggles madly. It's louder than she intended, and right when she's opening the flap to peek through no less.
Siofra*WEH WEH WEH WEH WEH WEH WEH!!!*
The squeak, a black and white shrill roar, echoes over the space as from a Greek woman's skin unfurls a trashing, snapping animal flurrying into the tent.
There is a wince in Sam's features as that scream happens, and Sam grins, then trembles, then, as the connection breaks, the jock hisses. He spits some more of that filthy, oily black ooze, and pushes to his feet. Then, in a flicker of shadows, he is gone, reappearing slightly closer to the camp than he was before. The jock's feet dash over the sand, a flicker of light erupting around his ankles. Wings, like the messenger-gods of old, propel the jock forward as he SPRINTS towards that tent. His eyes are narrowed slits, and his expression one of just one raw emotion.... All consuming, malicious... Hunger
Setting his sights on the first of the trio, Lanaeis crouches, palm striking the ground before a pair of ghostly wings, made from golden flames shot through with hellish black, sprout behind him, and he leaps upward, aiming and landing as close to his target as he can get, already drawing his sword from its scabbard as he slams into the ground, one knee striking down before he's back on his feet and engaging the first opponent with a quick thrust, changing the blow in a moment to strike the spear with the flat of his blade and drag it out, stepping in to take advantage of the opening with his next attack as he keeps the spear out to the side.
Lanaeis has 22 striking and 30 long blades.
-------PANDAMONIUM!-------
Hunger drives Sam forward with intensity, now. He's shifting through the shadows and he's drawing near to that tent, even slipping inside bypassing the physical barrier of the cloth itself. Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) is leering inside and what she spies is enough to set off that transformatrion in her blood and bones as the inner animal starts to blend and merge with the human side of her. The tent holds the man they've come looking for here - Amenophus. The Stork, The Heron. He looks the Demigod that he is, silver eyes blazing with fury and anger at the weakened state he finds himself in. The darkness lingering around Sam can FEEL the potential weakness in him, the opportunity to strike like a coiled serpent. But he is not without protection - for Amenophus is a GOOD thief. All about him seem to dangle and jangle charms and relics of power and protection. As the sight of a panda-beast and the dark magics that drive Sam here and now, this man begins to cant swiftly in archaic languages, chants of power or shielding perhaps each new chant coming with a fresh syumbol or relic he fishes out to put his effort into. Rapidly, he begins to slip from one to the next with increasing desperation as he finds his power waning ....
Lanaeis moves swiftly to take advantage of those rushing in against him, and his own skill here leaves him well-suited for it. There's a quick, soft sound as his blade slides into the gut of that first enemy and exits with a wet sound, and the splash of blood against hte cool sand. Steam rises fro mthe wound even as the man falls - no Sanctuary here ot protect him. Slapping the spear of the second aside and wide, his blade will flash again as he steps into the defense of that weapon, pressing the close quarters against his own enemies with ease.
Realizing the ease with which he had eliminated the first enemy, Lanaeis steps back, then lunging into a wide, sweeping arc with his blade, cleaving into both of the remaining enemies before disengaging again if they still live; darting back to get some distance from the pair.
The red, murderous aura around Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda)'s rather begets her intent. Not that it's needed, no. She winds up her arm like a Tekken character and slashes her way in, burrowing and snapping at the man inside with an energy that this particular mammal should not have the calories to afford. Her eyes dilate, and as she opens her budding sense of feeding to the world, a happy pant crosses her lips.
A pause, and Sam looks the thief over. He takes that knife of his into his hand, and approaches slowly. He makes eye-contact with the man, and hisses low.
A pause. He freezes. He looks at one of the symbols hung there. "That symbol... the symbol of..." Then, without warning, he steps forward. Not his knife, but his fist comes forward. His expression is like a highschool, schoolyard bully who just yanked the carpet under some guy's feet. "Psych!" A fist flies towards Amenophus's kidney.
The gap between pure mortals and the supernatural - the gap is often insurmountable for those without the strength and stamina. The ability to cleave through their enemies and leap through the air to take the fight to them with the might and fear that such a thing can provoke. The first man still holds his insides in, and that cleaving swipe coming from Lanaeis forces the other two back as they have to re-take stock of their enemy. They seem more appropriately wary of Lanaeis now, though they circle about him now with a more cautious approach. Now come the probing jabs and pokes of more veteran fighters no longer underestimating their opponant! In the tent, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) comes crashing through the tent with slashes and claws abound! Which of course .... tears the tent DOWN! Leaping forward, Sam's knife will find purchase in the man's flesh though it's hard to say if his aim is true because the whole thing comes down around them in a massive jumble. Now Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) is clawing and slashing eveyr which way blindly, Sam and Amenophus are embraced in some wrapped up jumble and tangle of bodies as the Dark magic user no doubt tries to drive home that knife again and again! Now that panda beast is not just eager to riup something apart it's natural instincts are driven into overdrive iwht the need to ESCAPE AND RIP APART whatever this thing that's covering them up now! UNACCETPABLE!
Lanaeis has no trouble using his own blade to keep the two remaining desert fighters at length, though he'll find that they seem to be used to working together. To effectively attack one, he'll have to expose his falnk to the other.
Eyes alight with the thrill of combat, again the wings manifest from Lanaeis's back. The difference this time is that they do not fade. In fact, as he jumps and unslings his bow, sheathing his sword in a quick movement, they bring him aloft and hold him there as he takes aim and releases a shot down at the first of the two desert warriors. His eyes flicker briefly to the tent as it collapses, but don't linger long there, snapping back to the progress of his arrow as it is launched from his bow.
Rolling with the jumble of tent, Sam keep stabbing... everywhere but the face. How strange. He starts stabbing home that knife, all the while trying to make sure the thief-demi-god is close to him... too close for anything but short blades and fisticuffs... Exactly how Sam likes it.
As he stabs again and again, Sam just hisses.
And teeth! Oh, how convenient? While Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) sadly lacks the strength of its greater ursine cousins, its teeth and claws are no less sharp. Shaking and snarling in a true cacophony of movement, the would-be predator's constant rapid fire sniff and sneeze of its nose searches the mess of bodies for the right meat to chomp- separating the jocky President with the foreign entity.
In truth, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda)'s claws and teeth are stronger than her natural cousins of course, her own supernatural abilities allowing them to tear through stronger stuff than they normally might! Her nose leads her true, able to tell the difference between them as she tries to rip her way out of that tent untill all that is left is largely a tattered, shredded mass of cloth ribbons that start to be picked up by the breeze and wind of the night desert air, floating off like spectral threads. Sam's knife and that oily smell that makes him stand out so easily against Amenophus to the panda, it drives home over and over. Each wound healing from the Demigod's own regeneration but those made by his knife heal more slowly than they should, each one compounding the weariness until Sam can fee once more than siphoning of his power beginning. The waning strength of his fighting back until Sam realizes in his frenzy that the body entangled with his own has gone limp. Still breathing, but that knife drives into defenseless flesh until the Jock can regain his own composure. The smell of fresh air and not being constrained so close to that smell of Obsidian is no doubt a help for Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) as well.
Lanaeis suddenly rises up into the air, and it's the perfect choice for him. Bow coming to the forefront - two arrows come flying through the air toward their targets. And with the advantage once more of surprise, there seems little for them to do but find their own demise. Finding their mark in shoulder, heart, neck, eye - those arrows will fell the two remaining fighters .. and the scene grows quiet. Now it is the heavy panting of breath ... the dripping of blood onto sand and the quiet moans of the felled thief. Once a peaceful, serene moment of nature and beauty - now a bloodbath; a mess.
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) shakes her coat out, tongue trying to push out a mess of cloth that's gotten stuck in her mouth. A gag and a cough, and a new burst of energy has her pawing at the body- leaving little red marks like his flesh is in the way of a book. Her happy snarl diminishes as one ceases to suffer from her actions, leaving just a happy pant with little patches of blood in the black.
Once the body has gone limp, Sam pushes up to his feet slowly. A cut, and the mans shirt is removed. Sam then carves a circular shape into the still breathing man's body.
"By Blood, Will and Devotion..." Sam's voice is slightly twisted, and he hisses out low as a shadow around him twists closer.
"I open the Maw of Duat!" He plunges his knife into the man's chest, then his hand, and out comes his heart.
A few moments, that heart is held in Sam's hand. He holds up his other hand, like a scale, balancing that black knife on it. Slowly, the side with the knife lowers, and Sam speaks, one word.
"Unworthy"
There is a squelch, and the jock starts to devour that heart, the shadows around him deepening as he does so.
When Alice saw the cat smile did she reciprocate? When God giggles is it contagious? It is the context that makes someone adored, and as Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) squeals and snorts, the deeper discernment of horror is projected. Fur stronger than kevlar, sewing itself up. A mind too smart for its body, finding the ability to make the words, 'Ih ee deh?'
And yet, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) does take a few steps back as President Sam eats a man's heart.
Subsumed by the presence that tags along within him, Sam begins to devour that heart even as it provides those last faint beats that spill forve the vital life's blood still contained inside as it is deemed unworthy. The flesh is tough, and stringy between the teeth like any tough muscle meat but the blood sings with the power of the Divine. Those silver eyes they speak to the potency of the blood, and even his regenration is not enough to spare him from this. Sam and Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) both will watch those last vestiges of suffering as the light that provided a sense of virility to those orbs of silver begins to fade until there is little left but the dull glassy stare of the soon-dead, or recently-dead. Meanwhile, a man slowly dies from a sword-wound to the gut out in the sand, his misery is lasting and painful. The two Lanaeis has brought down with arrows died more swiftly, mercifully perhaps but not that first. Gut wounds often kill, but never quickly. That step back seems wise, for Sam .. is something more and something far different in this moment. Shadows and silouhettes dance about him as if the Nightmare leeches through into the physical plane - hints of facial features too horrific to describe in tangible words, smiles and teeth that birth nightmares ... they feast upon the heart of this god-child.
ANd yet ... in the after-math. No book is to be found among the tents. No sign of the thing they truly came for. But soon - as Sam will eventually re-find his own sense of being and the mind of the woman and less of the beast begins to reassert itself within Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda). As Lanaeis resettles his feet onto the ground, now soaked with the death throes and blood of their enemies ... the sound of a soft clap comes. Clap. Clap. Soft, polite, toeing the line but not quite crossing into the realm of something condescending.
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) stands on her hind legs, a whopping 6 feet tall! She starts to clap in response, but then stops.
Instead, Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) stands next to Sam like a bouncer, bloody arms crossed and looking mysteriously across the desert wastes as wind collects sand into her fur.
Stepping out from the night ... it's his silver hair that comes noticable first. Not unruly no, but recently braided into something more tight and compact to hang over a shoulder. Large, looming tall but somehow seeming to belong with every step he takes across what now seems a wasteland of a battlefield where once an Oasis stood. The water is still fresh however, and the Desert will soon forget the people here. Kah Nhet himself appears from that chaos and aftermath standing silently as he waits for those gathered to regain of themselves. Intent blue eyes watch from bronzed skin in silence, patient.
Landing on the sand as his wings flicker from existence, Lanaeis joins the others shortly after the demigod is handled. When Kah steps from nowhere, its a nod that he receives from Lanaeis, who seems eerily familiar with this occurrence.
A few moments, and Sam loses himself entirely in some kind of internal shudder. He hisses, and his nostrils flare. Like he's on some very good kind of drugs.
Then, a sound. He snaps his attention to the source of it, the jock shuddering as he seems to be attempting to ground himself, trying to look like he has in fact gone to one knee intentionall.
Then, the jock seems to recognize the man for who he is, and he lets himself sag somewhat more visibly, retching as he spits out a vile, oily black ooze onto the sands.
"Hey Big guy!" He nods to Kah.
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda)'s paws hit the dirt. It just feels redundant to posture to a creature that's taller. She ambles a few steps forward and sits, watching with an orb of black and an orb of white.
"I have a confession to make" Calls out the giant of a man. His soft-spoken baritone voice carrying with a melody as it always does and yet somehow never being hard to hear when it's directed at someone. With a gesture of his hand, from somewhere comes pulling the very thing they'd come for. Golden and shining even in the scant moonlight - what settles into Kah's palm is something to behold. A heavy-looking collection of solid golden plates that have been embossed and etched with ancient Hieroglyphs on both sides like the pages of a book. Bound together, this stack of plates is threaded into a loose collection by ... some kind of leather that might be best left un-invesitgated if one's stomach is squeamish. (Human skin? probably). But there it is - in those simple plates a collection of magical knowledge, arcane rites, and secrets as old as the sand beneath their feet. "I recovered this some days ago ... but I wanted to see you take vengeance on this pretender. I knew you would not disappoint me." His voice is quiet - serene almost as if he takes some sense of ... harmony from being here, in this place.
OOC: Okay! Kah is here, but only so I could drop off the item! We are about finished of course, but it won't let me summon him out so to avoid too much damage, let us go ahead and wrap up!
Kah probably meant to hand that over along with the messenger satchel there ....
Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) looks to Sam for the suitable reaction. She's got quite the poker-face, stuck in a snarl as it is. A great Fae might fleshform her close for the youth of that happiness.
Thankfully, none are around for this little faux paux.
Nodding to Kah, Lanaeis steps forward, dipping his chin slightly as he does. "Good that you have it back." Lanaeis says, before he's back by Sam, offering a hand up to his feet if necessary. "While the desert may be some people's thing, its not mine I'm afraid." Lanaeis admits, wiping a hand over his forehead, and forgetting the gauntlet on said hand.
A chuckle, then a laugh, then a utterly loud roar of a laugh escapes Sam's lips, and he lets himself fall backwards onto the sands, just shaking his head as he snorts, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Shiiiiit, you know you just gotta ask, man?" He just continues chuckling, his body trembling as he snorts. He slowly pushes to his feet, and looks over to Siofra(Ailuropoda melanoleuca, or Giant Panda) and Lanaeis. "Thanks for the asssist. Lanaeis, could ya please create a path for us?" He gestures a little at himself, his fingers and hands trembling from exhaustion. "I don't think I can really do much of nothing."
"Of course." Lanaeis says, stepping forward and beginning to work the gestures of the pathing. "I'll be around some time. I hope to see you out of your den." Lanaeis adds to Kah with a small smile as the way begins to form. "It gets boring without you in the Wilds."
This only brings a wolfish smile to Kah's face, as he passes the book of plates along to Sam. "But where would the fun in this be? Think of the stories that will be told about this." He glances toward Lanaeis with that same grin. "I ensured that one of those three would not die. The man bleeding from his stomach will survive to tell of this." He says this as if it is command, not suggestion or theory. THen he's dipping his head and stepping back from the group. "And, this tome .. you will be well familiar with the kind of energies it will bring. The blood sacrifice is good. For this, it was worthy."