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Ashildr leaned against
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Ashildr leaned against
Ashildr leaned against the car, trying to keep up a calm facade while staring at her cell phone. She had gotten it precisely for this purpose, really: that when the time came, she would be able to lean against something, plug in her earbuds, and text like she was some high schooler in Starbucks.
Luckily, it was only about nine o'clock, and nobody was asleep at that time. Ashildr was able to have a very realistic conversation as she waited. Hey, Ash, what's up? U shud come over tomorrow: we're having spaghetti.
Nah, won't be able to make it. We're going to a movie.
Cool, which one?
Dad's an Emma Watson fanatic.
Say no more.
Well, at least she had appropriate friends.
"Honey, are you doing okay?" Ashildr looked up at the officer, who was bending slightly to be face to face with her. "I know this is rather traumatic for you."
"I'm fine," she replied, shrugging with a teenage air.
"Good. Then you won't mind if I ask a few questions."
"Fire away." She had prepared for this.
"What's your full name?"
"Aishling Luna O'Brien. I'm Irish."
"What about your father's?"
"Michael William O'Brien." That wasn't true. His name was Áed.
"Where were you two headed?"
"We were going to the movies in the strip mall up ahead, to see Beauty and the Beast." That was, technically speaking, true. They were going to hide in the movie theater.
"Thank you. I'll come back if I need to ask you anything else." Ashildr noticed the obvious lack of what happened? She, of course, had an answer ready, but it wasn't needed. The smashed driver's-side window, cowering daughter, and beaten father showed it all.
They hadn't made it. Somehow, their chasers had missed Ashildr, but there was still the matter of her father. Dead, the medics had said. Rediculous, Ashildr knew. All she had to do was get to him and everything would be fine.
Everyone there was very distracted. The flashing lights and CAUTION tape sent even the policemen into a panic. This was a small town; nothing like this had ever happened before, and there was only so much you could do. That made it much easier for Ashildr to sneak right up to her father's body and wrench his jaws open.
"Taispeáin dom má tá sé ina chónaí," she whispered. "Ostende mihi vivit."
A thick white smoke billowed from her mouth and down his throat, spiralling and contracting, writhing as it entered its new host. But it soon billowed, overflowed, and poured out of his mouth again. "No. Impossible. Taispeáin dom má tá sé ina chónaí. Ostende mihi vivit. Ostende mihi vivit!"
No matter how many times she repeated the spell, it was painfully obvious.
Her father was dead.
Ashildr wrenched open the backseat door, crawling into the car and hefting out one of the cushions. There was a messenger bag there, smushed from being hidden so long, but ready if she ever had to flee. Ashildr snatched it up, slung it over her shoulder, and got out of the car again, sprinting into the woods.
When she was far enough away, she pulled out a flashlight from the bag and rummaged around for the notebook. That was the most important thing, bigger than even the map. If the notebook was not there, all was lost.
She breathed a sigh of relief as her hands closed around its hard leather surface, pulling out the brown-binded book and flipping it open. Her father's handwriting had not changed in thousands of years: it was still almost impossible to decipher. Still, she only needed to refresh her memory, not learn anything anew.
____
THE CONTENTS OF THE NOTEBOOK
On your travels, you will encounter many creatures, and it is essential that you know how to recognize them, and battle them if need be. Know that all magical creatures are either immortal or undead, so the methods for defeating them must be followed to the letter. The rarities are from one to five, one being the rarest and five the most common. Please be careful, my darling. Remember, every magical creature can transform themselves to look human, so be alert at all times.
Species: Dragon
Rarity: 1 - there are many of us in this world, but almost all are hibernating and healing. I doubt you will come across another waking dragon on your travels.
Types: Riding (that is you, my dear - designed for others to fly on, red-scaled); hunting (as I am, made to seek out prey and capture it, blue-scaled); fighting (the most dangerous of all, I pray that you do not meet one of these vicious creatures on your quest, black-scaled); breeding (like your mother, made purely to keep the species alive. Beware - they have a violent streak, purple-scaled).
Powers: Fire-breathing, flight, impenetrability (do not let anyone get under your scales or you shall be truly doomed).
Identifying features: long, claw-like nails; wild hair; short build. It is possible they may show you their wings, but unlikely.
Weaknesses: If you ever find yourself fighting a dragon, get your claws under their scales before they get under yours. You are agile and quick, like all of your type; most other dragons are slow, but harder to breach the defenses of. Fighting dragons do not have scales on their stomachs, so if you do find yourself battling one, get under them. Just remember: this lack of scales makes them the quickest of the dragons, so beware.
Immortality: It is impossible to kill a dragon, as you know. But we can be mortally injured, and fall alseep to heal our wounds. This happened to you when you attempted to join the American Revolution, do you recall? You slept through much of the Western Expansion. Remember that dragons are one of the oldest species on this planet, and can come from as long ago as Ancient Greece.
Species: Pixie
Rarity: 5 - they normally travel in packs, and there are many around this world.
Types: Flying (Flying Pixies are often called fairies by the humans because of their wings and small shape); shape-shifting (one of the trickiest, as they use these powers to pass off as anything and then wreak havoc); spell-casting (the most dangerous, as they are tiny, powerful targets); boogieman (terrifying pixies, ones that prefer scaring humans as opposed to their other, prankster relatives).
Powers: Invisibility, changing their height (each type of pixie has a separate set of powers.)
Identifying features: A small, skinny build; short hair; freckles; a light, common laugh; pointed ears in some cases.
Weaknesses: All pixies cannot resist a good joke, and will fall over laughing; they especially appreciate slapstick. Flying Pixies' wings are incredibly delicate and can be harmed simply by touching them. If you can find a way to silence a Spell-Casting Pixie, they are completely harmless. Boogieman Pixies detest the light, especially sunlight.
Immortality: Pixies are easily confined, and it is difficult for them to escape almost any cage, but they cannot die, as they don't have blood in their veins or a heart to pump it. Remember that Pixies are generally not more than a few hundred years old, as they first started appearing in the sixteenth century.
Species: Mermaid
Rarity: 3
Types: Selkie (shifters, though they are limited to mer-shape, sea creature-shape, and human-shape), Siren (the most beautiful, with singing voices that will lure anyone towards them - but beware, for they are the singular carnivorous species of mermaid); Maiden (the ones most commonly seen by humans, and a completely useless breed in my opinion).
Powers: They do not breathe, resistance to pressure, inhuman strength, communication with sea creatures
Identifying features: Very long hair, an attachment to water, flirtatious nature,
Weaknesses: Mermaids dehydrate if they are out of the water too long, and become weak and susceptible. In order to shift into their creature-shape, Selkies need their skin (often a piece of clothing), and are stuck as a human/mermaid without it. Sirens admire voices as beautiful as theirs and will let you free if you impress them. Maidens are flirtatious and weak, though they have a tendancy to befriend other, stronger sea creatures - beware of those.
Immortality: Mermaids do not breathe, and therefore do not need lungs; they have no blood to react to pressure with. They can feel pain, but are not damaged by attacks. The best thing to do is render them incapable of whatever they are attempting. Remember that mermaids are creatures that first came about during the Reconaissance, though ones that old have generally retired to the middle of the ocean by this time.
Species: Vampire
Rarity: 4
Types: Pack (travel in groups and are very vicious when together. They are very loud and blend into crowds, trying to isolate groups to attack.); Lone (travel alone, very bloodthirsty. Usually hunt in small areas, blend in with the background, and attack singular people).
Powers: Turning into bats, knowing their exact location at all times, a limited teleportation, night vision
Identifying features: Overlarge canines, a goth dressing style, overly pale skin
Weaknesses: Vampires dislike garlic, and enough of it will make them hesitate before attacking you, though it is not the best weapon. They are not susceptible to holy water or crosses, so DO NOT USE THESE. Wooden stakes are the best, though they are also injured by silver. They detest sunlight, though it will not kill them, and lightbulbs/flashlights have no effect.
Immortality: Vampires are undead. They do not have blood, but they do have a heart. Piercing this heart will cause them to return to their grave - the time depends on the severity of the wound - before they can walk the Earth again. Remember that vampires average at about two hundred years old, though they first began appearing in the eighteenth century.
Species: Werewolf
Rarity: 3
Types: Hybrid (can turn into a wolf at will, generally very bloodthirsty and dangerous creatures even as humans); Moon (only turn into a wolf at the full moon, though they still have dangerous qualities as humans); Lycanthrope (can turn into a wolf at will, though also turn into one at the full moon; at this time they have no control over their actions, and tend to be rather docile otherwise).
Powers: Shifting into wolves, inhuman strength, inhuman agility, night vision
Identifying features: A lot of hair, scarring, a tall stature, sharp teeth
Weaknesses: Werewolves are injured by anything silver, and even touching it against them will make them cry out in pain. Other weapons don't even harm them, however. They detest getting wet and will avoid water at all costs.
Immortality: Werewolves can die. However, if you kill them, they are not destroyed; a hundred years after dying, they return as an Undead, and the only way to fend them off is returning them to their grave, similar to a vampire. Remember, werewolves can be ordinary humans with their lifespans, but once they die they can be hundreds of years old - I once meta 567-year-old Lycanthrope when I was searching for your mother.
_____
I actually get to talk now.
Okay, so, that was a big info dump, but please read it - everything there is important, and stuff you need to know. There's actually stuff I didn't even mention, which I will clarify in the actual writing when we get to that.
First things first. This is a solo write, not an RP. Sorry, everyone. However, in this solo write, I am requesting that you do not, actually, base your character off yourself. Design it like you would in an RP; make it anything you want. However, I need you to be REALLY SPECIFIC. I don't want to mess up anything while writing this, so I need as much info as possible on your charries.
As much as you needed to read, I had to write. I don't think I can stand writing another creature bio right now. So, if you notice that I'm missing an obvious one, poke me and I'll decide if I want to include it. Got another creature in mind? Give me the name and I'll decide if I want to have it there! If I do, I'll give you a bio for it - if not, you can choose one of the ones above, or request a different one.
I'll accept ten people in this, maybe a few more if I feel generous.
Here's the charrie sheet! Please keep the characteristics of your species in mind while filling it out. I'll correct you if something doesn't line up.
Name:
Age:
Species/Type:
Gender:
Appearance:
Clothing:
Personality:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Hobbies:
Family:
Background:
Other:
submitted by St.Owl, age Recarnated, Everywhere
(April 16, 2017 - 5:40 pm)
(April 16, 2017 - 5:40 pm)
Double top!
(April 23, 2017 - 9:11 am)
PART 1 - THERE ARE SCENTS IN THE AIR
Ashildr shut the book carefully, placing it back amongst the other things in her messenger bag. Rifling around a bit, she soon extracted a map from its depths, which she unfolded carefully. Her father had tediously marked every small thing that the map covered, and by looking at it Ashildr knew where the nearest convenience store, strip mall, town, or city was. There were also symbols he hadn't told her about - ones that she suspected had to do with his killers.
"You should have told me about them," Ashildr whispered into the forest. "I could've helped. I didn't know anything. If I did, maybe - "
Something wet and warm rolled down her cheek, and she swiped at it unconsciously before recognizing it as a tear. Ashildr hadn't cried since the day a hundred years ago when her father returned from his own quest, telling her that her mother would most likely sleep until the Earth was torn apart.
That was a reference to old dragon lore, one of the most famous in the magical creatures' world. It was also one of Ashildr's favorite tales, though certainly not the nicest. It was said that in the Old Days there was one dragon: Chéad (though that was only her own, Celtic name; other dragons from other parts of the world called him Primum, Próta, Saisho - they were as endless as the locations). In those days, the Earth was much bigger, and so Chéad had grown to fit that size. However, he soon became a giant, with claws so long and durable they were said to scrape holes in the earth. When Chéad walked, his feet dragged along, and he began to wear down the planet, until suddenly it was the size of a marble for him.
Disappointed, he spread his wings and shot off the planet in one flap. This sent it careening across the sky, shifting the water into waves and pulling up the earth to make mountains. When the planet was still again, it found itself relying on the Sun's light and warmth.
However, the story goes that Chéad is still searching for a home, and one day he will return to Earth. And when he does, he will be so large that even touching its delicate surface would break their planet into bits, turning it to dust.
Ashildr folded up the map carefully.
When the Earth was destroyed, it was said that only the dragons would survive. The other creatures would remain injured beyond anything they could possibly imagine, too weak to even heal; but the dragons would simply sleep. And, no matter how long it would take - even if it was an eternity - their cells would recombine and they would fly the skies with Chéad, searching for a new home.
Ashildr stood, brushing off her pants and staring at the thick trees. If she headed directly west, she would reach a strip mall in no time.
It is said that the home the dragons will find is where Chéad will finally rest. As they land and rebuild their lives, he will lie down and sleep for a millenia, tired from flying around the galaxy, battling the monsters in the constellations. When he does, he will solidify like a Morphling, and become the most powerful temple dragonkind had ever seen.
She began to walk, feet crunching against the fallen, browning leaves.
He would never wake.
~~~~
Ashildr had been going over what she had to do if the Quest came upon her for centuries. It was edited as time passed, of course, and one of the additions made in the twentieth century was to stock up on storable foods. Canned beans, instant ramen, water bottles - anything that she could carry in her bag without trouble. If worse came to worse, she could hunt, but Ashildr had not relied on her capabilities in that field since the days that dragons roamed without fear. She was afraid that she would not be able to sustain herself on raw meat alone.
She spent a lot of time merely at the grocery store, but there was more to find. Her most prominent concern was transport. Though Ashildr was definitely allowed a driver's license, her appearance didn't show it. Her modern human looks revealed a girl of about fifteen, though her stature and build often made people think she was thirteen, with wild red hair in a singular ponytail and light brown eyes. In the past, she had forged birth certificates in order to recieve licenses, but as security increased, she and her father agreed it was too dangerous to continue the action, and did not return when her license expired for the last time.
Luckily, the mall had a bicycle shop. It took Ashildr a while to find a bike that fit her, but with the shopkeeper's help, she found one her size. It was a dark shade of purple, with thin poles holding it together. Ashildr had to smile. She could still remember her first ride on a bike, when the front wheel was so tall she could have sworn she would topple to her doom.
Today's bicycles were not at all like that, and Ashildr was going at a steady pace along a less-used highway. Suddenly, she pressed on the brakes so hard the bike skidded and didn't topple over only because she'd supported it with her foot.
There was a smell in the air.
An old-timer smell. Some magical creatures were more difficult to discern than others, but the oldest were the most conspicuous - like her, or her father, or whatever Ashildr was smelling. Trying to cover up for her abrupt stop, Ashildr fished around in her bag for a water bottle, settling at the side of the road.
And there he was.
"You very nearly fell back there," said the man in a deep voice. "What was the hurry?"
"I was - getting dizzy," replied Ashildr, thinking fast. "Biking too long with no water. Really takes it out of you."
She smiled weakly, but used the time to examine her companion more closely. He sat up very straight on the neatly trimmed grass, his dark clothing and skin accenting him against the backdrop. His black hair was slightly mussed - on purpose or from the wind Ashildr didn't know - and his eyes glinted gold.
That was the giveaway. Ashildr thought for a moment, trying to think of a creature that matched his appearance. He was most likely a Morphling; only they got so old, and his dark skin screamed Africa.
"Where are you from?" Ashildr asked innocently, crossing her fingers behind her back.
He smiled. "Does my accent show? I thought it wouldn't. I've spent a while perfecting my English. I'm Egyptian," he explained, confirming her suspicions.
"How long?"
"A while. I don't keep track exactly."
Morphlings could be very dangerous - but they could also be excellent allies. Ashildr had to decide which he was going to be - and quickly. "Where are you from, little dragon?"
She reeled in shock. "Definitely a Morphling," Ashildr grumbled, remembering the last time she'd come in contact with one, and how annoyingly omniscient he seemed to be. "Ireland, though I lived in Scotland for quite a while. Oh, and don't worry, your accent doesn't show."
"I thought not. You look rather young."
"I'm still aging." This was true. Now that Ashildr was separated from her father, it was more than likely she would grow into an adult maturity. "Will you tell me your name?"
"Only if you promise not to lie if I ask you yours. I am Argen."
"I'm Ashildr."
"I've heard of you," he mused. "Weren't you in Ca - "
Both of them stopped suddenly, and sat up straighter. There was no need to talk - they had both heard the snap behind them, and smelled it. It was a smell no creature ever wanted to encounter, especially when alone.
The smell of blood.
~~~~
"Vampires," Argen muttered. "I hate the things."
They both stood, slowly, and Ashildr pulled her messenger bag over her shoulder, searching with her fingers carefully inside as their hunters revealed themselves. It was a small group, evidently scouts from a larger pack, who smiled and drooled when they saw the two. "You look like you're in a bit of a tight spot," said the first. His voice was accented and sharp, almost staccato. "Mind if we lend a hand?"
"I had been getting hungry," Argen said smoothly.
"Very funny," said the same one. "Are you a werewolf? I love hunting werewolves. They always think they can defeat us."
Ashildr's hand came in contact with something cold and metal. "And I suppose I'm a pixie."
The second looked at her before speaking in a drawling, monotonus tone. "You do look it . . . but your hair is too long. Actually, I think you're a mermaid."
It was all Ashildr could do to stop from laughing. Stupid, stupid vampires. "What clan are you a part of? I want to report you to your leaders."
"Ah, so we've got a pack of werewolves. Lead us to their hideout!"
The third, and final, vampire smacked the first on the back of the head. "Idiots! Can't you smell the Old on their skin? They are dragons! Or Morphlings!"
If vampires could pale, the first two did. Ashildr and Argen glanced at each other. She wasn't sure exactly what type of Morphling Argen was, but they tended to draw attention - and so would a gigantic, bright red dragon. "I have another way," Ashildr mouthed, gesturing ever so faintly to her bag. Argen gave her a shadow of a nod.
As the vampires began to gloat again, realizing the two's predicament, Ashildr quickly whipped the item out of her bag, aimed it at the vampires, and fired.
The bang! alerted them to danger, and three bats flitted away from their clustered form. The first to materialize was the first vampire to speak. "You shot a silver bullet at us!"
"Yes, I did," Ashildr replied, blowing at the tip of the gun. It was very old - an antique - but they couldn't risk forging gun licenses.
"That's cheating!" the vampire griped, pacing. "We're supposed to find out you're a dragon. Then you turn into a dragon. We get fatally wounded and then I heroically manage to get my fangs under your scales, causing you to collapse. We drag you home to the rest of Clan Kalshrani, and feast for days!"
He clapped his hand over his mouth suddenly, realizing what he'd said.
"I say we find this Clan Kalshrani," Argen said to her, raising his eyebrows. "And these boys are going to tell us where they are."
"Hey! No!" cried the second, backing up a bit. "Attack Jean-Luce. He's the one who actually knows stuff."
"Don't attack me," said the third. "I can direct you to another vampire who will be much more trustworthy than us. Her name is Nocturna pon Kalshrani and she lives in the nearby town, by the shore."
They stared at the three, long and hard, daring them to attack again. After a few moments, the vampires scuttled back into the woods and vanished.
"Idiots," Argen grunted.
~~~~
They made the town by nightfall - Argen had a truck - and immediately noticed the smell of the sea. There were different sorts of coastal areas, usually populated by one sort of mermaid, but this had the smell of all three.
"Must be quite a place we've gotten ourselves into," Argen murmured. "Smells big as Atlantis."
"I've heard of an American/Canadian group of merpeople living in the Atlantic Ocean," Ashildr whispered back. If their discussions were heard, it could be disastrous. "Still, it wasn't from a very reliable source. I doubted they were real. Though this smell says otherwise . . . "
"Keep your eyes open. We definitely don't want to be disrespectful to any members of the Mer-Guild."
Ashildr nodded in agreement, glancing around.
It was a nice town. Sand from the small beach bordering it blew into suburban lawns and onto thin sidewalks. It was organized almost symmetrically, with one long street full of two-story houses and the other with shops full of knicknacks and essentials. The two agreed to split up, Ashildr taking the line of stores, searching for a vampire.
She didn't find one right away.
Ashildr had stopped in the butcher shop, thinking that hunks of raw meat would draw any vampire right in. She didn't notice any obvious vampires, but there was someone else, purchasing a hunk of steak. There was something odd about the way she did it, and how she glanced from side to side, as though looking out for someone.
Ashildr decided that was worth investigating, and stayed inside the shop as the girl continued her transaction. She had long dark hair and looked fairly normal in jeans and a light jacket, but Ashildr kept one eye on her while pretending to examine a huge leg of beef. It was making her mouth water a bit, just hanging there from a ceiling beam . . .
The girl turned around, paper bag from the shop in hand, and left the store, the bells by the door tinkling as she pushed it open. Ashildr dug in the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out a wallet and looking inside, then back at the beef. "Shoot," she said aloud, pocketing it again. Ashildr actually had enough money to buy the entire store, but she needed an excuse to leave without attracting the shopkeeper's attention, who had been looking at her expectantly.
Ashildr regretted going outside as soon as she left. The air was so full of mer-scent that there was no chance she'd be able to isolate one girl's - especially because the dragon wasn't sure that she was a mermaid, anyway. It looked like she'd have to take a more subtle approach.
"Excuse me," said Ashildr, hurrying up to the girl. "Would you mind taking a quick anonymous survey? Great! Just step right over here. First question: What do you look for in a house?"
She stared at Ashildr quizzically. "That's a weird survey, but . . . multiple stories and wide windows."
"Secondly, how much time do you spend on the beach?"
"Almost all of it. I love the water."
"Thirdly, how would you feel about condos being built on the beach?"
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard and any project being designed for that purpose had better stop now."
Ashildr smirked. Jackpot. "That's all. Thanks for your time."
"Good, because I wanted to ask you a question." Like Ashildr, the girl didn't wait before asking, "Why do you smell like reptile?"
Ashildr inwardly hit herself as her mind drew a blank. She'd been training for this for literally centuries. How could one of the million responses she and her father developed not come to her?
"I thought so. I didn't think there were any dragons left awake."
"Very few," Ashildr admitted. "I'm the only one I know of. If you don't mind me asking, what type of mermaid are you?"
"Selkie. Are you a riding dragon?"
She nodded in reply. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know of a vampire in this area? We got attacked by three of them on the highway and we need to figure out where their clan is."
"Are you on a quest?"
Ashildr bit her lip. "Yes."
"Where to?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Well, I want to join you. I've had enough of this place. I need to see something new."
"We won't be near water all the time."
"I don't care," replied the selkie, shrugging. "Just drinking enough keeps me conscious. And, by the way, I do know the vampire you're talking about - but I won't tell you where she is until you let me come with you."
There wasn't even a hesitation. "Yes. If you're sure you can handle it."
"Cool. Nocturna pon Kalshrani lives on the outskirts of town. She's a pack vampire, but she's staying away for a bit because she got into some trouble. She's not a bad person, though . . . intense. Expect a fight, but only for fun. And she'll probably want to see your dragon form."
"Sounds great," Ashildr sighed. "Are you coming with? I can introduce you to my Morphling companion."
"I need to grab some stuff first. Meet me at the edge of the ocean in an hour."
The selkie turned to leave, but Ashildr called after her, "Wait! I need a name to ask for."
She smiled. "I'm Sorrel Agne."
~~~~~
Ashildr found Argen in the grocery store, picking out garlic. "We won't need that," she told him, glancing at his already overflowing bag.
"You can never be too careful," he replied, selecting a final one. "Even if we don't need it for Miss Kalshrani, Clan Kalshrani will definitely be overflowing with hostiles."
She snatched the bag from him. "Five cloves of garlic. That's it."
He took a while poring through the bag, finding the largest and smelliest cloves to take with him. When they finally bought them, Ashildr grabbed the garlic and stuffed it into the very bottom of her messenger bag. "We're not hostile and neither is she," she warned him. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Hopefully he didn't realize that she had stuck her gun deep into her back pocket just in case.
Nocturna's house was elevated slightly, with rickety old steps leading up to a wooden door with a bronze bell hanging by the window. Ashildr tinkled it as she arrived and the door flew open. "Oh. Sorry," said a red-haired girl. "I thought you were someone else. I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."
Ashildr stuck her foot in the door as Nocturna made to close it, surprised at their closeness in hair color and style. Though the dragon's was much curlier than Nocturna's, they were about the same length, and their ponytails seemed to hang in the same spot, right down to the bangs in front of each ear. "We're not Clan Kalshrani, but we're here to ask you about them."
"Why do you want to know about my pack?"
"We ran into some scouts who tried to kill us. That's violating the Restrictions. We need to talk to their leader."
"The Vezetö will never let you come near them," Nocturna warned. "But I will tell you where to find them . . . on two conditions."
"Name them."
"First, when you appeal for compensation, ask for a temporary release of Nocturna pon Kalshrani."
"Done."
"Secondly, I want a sparring match. You versus me. Though if you're a mermaid or pixie, then forget it."
"I'll spar with you," Ashildr agreed. "I used to do it quite often, as part of my training."
"Great! I love a challenge." Nocturna backed into the house, letting Ashildr and Argen inside. It was a dismal place, not taken care of at all, with cobwebs in every corner and dust on every surface. Nocturna stood in the middle of an emtpy room to their right, directly across from a set of decaying stairs going up to the second floor.
"I don't think this is safe," Argen muttered to Ashildr. "I have no doubt you can take her on, but Sorrel told you Nocturna is intense. For all we know she could be playing to put you to sleep."
"And me to put her back in her grave. I don't think she wants to do that, Argen. I agree there will probably be high stakes, but you know where I'm from."
"Well, I hope they had a very good training program. And if I think she's gone too far, I'm leaping at Nocturna in full form."
"That's fair. I'm tempted to let her beat me now, just to see what you are."
"Fat chance. Anyway, if you visit the Clan Kalshrani all beat up, they're not going to take you seriously. Actually, they'll get hungry."
Ashildr nodded and stepped into the room.
She had sparred quite often during training, centuries ago, but she had never fallen out of practice, often fighting with her father. So Ashildr was not taken aback when Nocturna threw a punch, and easily ducked out of the way, letting out a jab of her own. Soon they were both connecting, slowing, connecting again, slowing again. Ashildr thought that perhaps she had a black eye, but she wasn't quite sure, as she couldn't remember - nor did she have the time to try - whether or not Nocturna's fist had connected with her face. Finally, when Ashildr's fists began to bleed, she threw up her arms and surrendered. "I can't get too beat up if I'm going to face the Vezetö."
Nocturna nodded in agreement, sprinting upstairs and coming back down with a vial of murky liquid. "This should fix you up."
Ashildr stared at it. "I haven't seen Só Leigheas in years." The potion was used to heal any injury except death. It took time to go into effect, depending on the wound, but it was super effective every time. It was also incredibly rare.
"Só Leigheas? This is Gyógyít," Nocturna said, tipping the bottle to catch the light. "Vampires are experts in making it."
They both looked at Argen. He shrugged. "Sounds like they translate to the same thing. I think the potion must be like your Chéad, Ashildr - it goes by different names."
Ashildr shrugged and took a swig from the vial. She didn't need the whole thing - that was for extreme cases. A single drop of Só Leigheas could heal a black eye.
"Well," said Nocturna, after healing herself too, "Shall I take you to Clan Kalshrani?"
_____
So. Firstly, each creature speaks a different language. The thing with Argen is, I made him Ancient Egyptian, and I'm not sure if hieroglyphics would even work on the CB. So . . . his language is TBD for now. (in the end, he'll probably speak Arabic.) If you couldn't tell, Ashildr speaks Irish, and vampires speak Hungarian (apparently they speak Hungarian in Transylvania, so there you go).
Yay! I introduced three characters in this post! More mer-people should show up in the next post, so @Rose bud, I need to know what creature Caspian shifts into. (selkies are limited to one creature.) Most of the pixies will probably show up in part 3 or 4. The rest of you . . . I'm not sure, xD. A few people will join Ashildr's quest, but don't expect everyone to, because that's way too many charries for me to handle.
That's it! Sorry for the huge word flood, lol. Seven pages on Docs! Expect it. Though it is hard to write such long posts, since there was an excellent stopping point up there before.
(April 23, 2017 - 11:49 am)
awesome! Can't wait for the next part!
(April 23, 2017 - 2:36 pm)
Brilliant, St.Owl! I love it! Seven pages on docs, that's a lot. I can't wait to read it!
(April 23, 2017 - 4:43 pm)
This is awesome so far, St! I can't wait to find out more about this world, it's so interesting. I wait in anticipation for when my charcater comes in. ^^
(April 23, 2017 - 9:56 pm)
Yay! This is an amazing story!
(April 23, 2017 - 2:27 pm)
Bravo St. Owl! I love it! Keep up the great work.
I love the word overflow, lol!
(April 23, 2017 - 2:33 pm)
Don't worry, longer is better in my opinion ;) Nocturna wondering what's going to happen now that a dragon's going up against...well, probably her grandparents, and also why Ashildr's and Argen's bags smell so awful. (Hint: garlic - to Nocturna, it probably smells like they're carrying a live skunk.)
Out of curiosity, who or what is Ashildr Questing for?
Koda says both. OHMIGOSH AN ACTUAL WORD!! KODA SAID AN ACTUAL WORD!!!! But...both of what, Koda?
(April 23, 2017 - 4:52 pm)
That's really good St Owl! Just so you know though, Argen looks onot about 16... he isn't a grown man.
(April 23, 2017 - 5:47 pm)
Mershape. This is really great so far!
(April 23, 2017 - 8:48 pm)
This is great! I can't wait for more. Happy writing.
(April 23, 2017 - 8:59 pm)
This is awesome! I can't wait for part 2!
(April 24, 2017 - 10:36 am)
Henna
(April 25, 2017 - 6:29 pm)
(April 26, 2017 - 1:03 pm)
Okay, so . . . families are very inconsiderate and apparently believe that it's okay to close out of Firefox when St.Owl has about ten tabs open (if I didn't need them open, I would have closed the tabs!) So, all of my work is vanished. But, luckily, I saved most of it on Docs! Unluckily, it'll take a while to type up, plus I still have to finish and IRL is pretty crazy right now. I miiight be able to get Part 2 up by tonight, but if I don't, I'll definitely have it in Thursday.
(April 26, 2017 - 3:28 pm)