Saisorhi! Undead! Banter!
May. 6th, 2007 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosipheleeI went to a lot of very dull lectures this week. As sleeping in lectures is frightfully rude, I wrote this to keep myself awake (it entertained the people reading over my shoulder too ^_^).
Title: Hostilities
Words: 1462
Prompt: hostile
Notes: Caria and Jerrioh are Tad and Istellon's siblings. Caria is second oldest, after Tad, and Jerrioh is the fourth.
“I think we can safely conclude,” Jerrioh panted, “that they are hostile.”
“Don't slow down to talk!” Caria shrieked, catching up enough that his pink wings were smacking at her face. “Run!”
“I hear and obey,” he gasped and sped up. Here on the ground his greater height let him outrun her easily. Normally, the knowledge that she could speed past him in the air stopped that from rankling. Right now, however, it was probably better that the slower of them should be the one who knew how to use a sword.
Behind them the wights gibbered. She could hear their rotting wings slapping together, and the air around her was beginning to grow cold.
There was no breeze to get them airborne, and if she stopped to summon one, the wights would be on them.
“Faster, I pray you!” she yelled at her brother's back.
Jerrioh jerked his head and then swerved sideways, wings flapping as he scrabbled up the cliffside towards a narrow ledge. He dragged himself onto the ledge in a whirl of bright feathers and immediately knelt down to reach towards her.
“Lie flat!” Caria ordered, beginning to roll her shoulders back in preparation to leap. The rocks beneath her feet were beginning to ice over as the wights grew closer, and she skidded as she leapt.
Jerrioh dropped onto his belly, and she grabbed his hand and slammed her wings down, riding the surge upwards despite the blaze of pain in her shoulders. Between them, they got her onto the ledge, and she crashed down, gasping for breath.
“Hah!” Jerrioh gloated, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “They cannot reach us! They cannot climb! They- oh, fuck!”
Below them the wights were crowding close to the cliff, the back ranks scrambling onto the shoulders of the front ones to lunge at them. One grasped the edge of the ledge, jaw clacking, and Caria stamped on its hand, crushing its hollow bones beneath her heel. It fell back with a clatter, its wings trailing ribbons of mummified skin. Before the next wight got close, Caria managed to draw her sabre, sweeping it down to hook the wight away, throwing it out over the crowd to smash against the path behind.
“Alack,” Jerrioh said behind her. “I had not anticipated such an outcome.”
Caria spared him a glare. He was pressed back against the cliff, wings spread as he peered down at the army of undead.
“Your assistance would be appreciated,” she snapped, kicking another encroaching wight so hard that its skull snapped off its spine, the blue flames in its eyes fading as it crashed down.
He sighed. “I am a scholar, not a warrior. The sword does not become me. I shall not impede your actions.”
“Jerrioh! We are about to be eaten!”
“It would appear so,” he observed. “Although one wonders about their digestive powers.”
“Jerry! Assist me!” To think he was the least irritating of her brothers!
“I am considering our options.”
Ice was spreading up the golden sides of the canyon. Below them the bank was thronged with wights, their eyes casting the only light in the depths of the canyon. The river behind them was dark and still.
Bone fingers closed around her ankle, so cold they hurt. Caria hacked at the sinews that tattered around its wrist, and the hand crumpled into dust, leaving her ankle throbbing.
“One wonders about the ice,” Jerrioh remarked.
Caria ignored him.
“It must be formed by extracting water from the air. For what purpose?”
Another wight, this one with both hands on the ledge. It clacked its jaw at her, showing its stained teeth, and pushed up. There was yet another one behind it. She swung round to slash at the first, and Jerrioh said, “An experiment, perhaps?”
Her sabre jammed in its ribs. The one behind scrabbled up and began to crawl towards her.
Caria shook her sabre wildly, trying to get rid of the clutching thing. Behind her, she could feel Jerrioh raising power, and she hoped he was actually trying something productive, rather than recording her slow demise for the edification of generations to come.
Finally, her sword came free, sending the wight spinning out over the heads of the crowd. She looked for the next one.
And it erupted into her face, bone wings slamming around her head as it lunged for her.
Caria screamed and leapt backwards, crashing into the cliff and Jerrioh's wing.
“Careful!” he said.
The wight's jaws gaped open and it darted at her throat. Caria brought her sabre up enough to hit it in the face. It recoiled and then came back, bone hands clawing at her shoulders.
Its jaws clamped over her sword, and she tried to push it backwards. The moment she touched its ribcage, her fingers went cold and clumsy. Nonetheless she tried to force it back over the edge.
“Release it!” Jerrioh shouted behind her.
Hoping he'd thought this through, she pulled her fingers away and leant back. The wight screeched and swung at her, letting her sword go.
A blaze of hot air roared over her shoulder, making her cheeks sting and hurling the wight away from her. The blast carried it all the way to the river, where it hit with a splash and a shriek which made her ears twinge. Its bone arms groped above the the river for a moment, but then the water around it began to bubble, a thick white froth coming to the surface, and the bones sank down, dissolving into nothing.
The remaining wights all turning to watch, wailing.
“Excellent!” Jerrioh said. “My hypothesis was correct. They cannot abide the touch of water. Are you uninjured, Cari?”
“I am well,” she said, picking her sword. The wights on the bank were still gazing at the water. “But I told you eating too many vegetables would have a bad effect on your digestion.”
“It was a spell-” he started indignantly. Then he sighed and crossed his arms. “Some sisters would show gratitude at this point.”
Caria grinned at him. “Some brothers wouldn't have dragged me into this mess in the first place.”
He sniffed. “This is the only place the plant grows. How was I supposed to know it was infested with undead?”
“Wasn't there some note in that book of yours about cuttings being perilous to obtain?”
“That's why I invited you along, o most venturesome of sisters,” he said, grinning back. “It failed to elaborate, though, and there was certainly no mention of wights.”
“Upon which subject,” Caria said, “they seem to be turning back this way. What spell was that?”
“Just a basic blast,” he said, frowning. “A suggestion?”
“Go ahead,” she said, taking up a firm stance and readying her blade.
“We cannot get into the air from here, but we could get into the river.”
“And get my wings wet?” Caria protested, bringing the pommel of her sword down on the first skull to appear above edge of the ledge.
“Better drenched than dinner,” he said cheerfully and blew another wight into the water. “You can still swim, can't you?”
“If I must,” she muttered. She hadn't done much swimming since her wings grew. She hated the stench of soggy feathers. The river wasn't that wide here, though.
Another wight came scrambling up, so she kicked it away. “Check the opposite bank before we launch ourselves.”
She concentrated on the wights while he took off his glasses and looked out over the water. “There's a beach. No tombs or caves that I can perceive. The flats are long enough to let us run into the wind once our wings have dried once more.”
“Sounds good. What do we do if they freeze the river?”
“I had not thought so far ahead.”
“That would be why I am paid to fly into dangerous places, and you are a botanist.”
“And I had thought it was merely because the courier service preferred speed to subtlety.”
“Watch that,” she said, knocking a wight into the climbing masses below, “or I will hit you next. The river?”
“I leave it to your greater wisdom,” he said happily. “I am but a mere botanist, and you are a great shaman courier, at harmony with the world. I do not doubt you can keep the river from freezing.”
“I loathe you,” she said, eyeing the distance between their ledge and the edge of the water. “If you would oblige with your blasting spell again, that would give us a chance to get down from here without breaking our necks.”
“Right away,” he said, and Caria kicked another gibbering undead creature off the ledge and braced herself for a very cold swim.
Title: Hostilities
Words: 1462
Prompt: hostile
Notes: Caria and Jerrioh are Tad and Istellon's siblings. Caria is second oldest, after Tad, and Jerrioh is the fourth.
“I think we can safely conclude,” Jerrioh panted, “that they are hostile.”
“Don't slow down to talk!” Caria shrieked, catching up enough that his pink wings were smacking at her face. “Run!”
“I hear and obey,” he gasped and sped up. Here on the ground his greater height let him outrun her easily. Normally, the knowledge that she could speed past him in the air stopped that from rankling. Right now, however, it was probably better that the slower of them should be the one who knew how to use a sword.
Behind them the wights gibbered. She could hear their rotting wings slapping together, and the air around her was beginning to grow cold.
There was no breeze to get them airborne, and if she stopped to summon one, the wights would be on them.
“Faster, I pray you!” she yelled at her brother's back.
Jerrioh jerked his head and then swerved sideways, wings flapping as he scrabbled up the cliffside towards a narrow ledge. He dragged himself onto the ledge in a whirl of bright feathers and immediately knelt down to reach towards her.
“Lie flat!” Caria ordered, beginning to roll her shoulders back in preparation to leap. The rocks beneath her feet were beginning to ice over as the wights grew closer, and she skidded as she leapt.
Jerrioh dropped onto his belly, and she grabbed his hand and slammed her wings down, riding the surge upwards despite the blaze of pain in her shoulders. Between them, they got her onto the ledge, and she crashed down, gasping for breath.
“Hah!” Jerrioh gloated, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “They cannot reach us! They cannot climb! They- oh, fuck!”
Below them the wights were crowding close to the cliff, the back ranks scrambling onto the shoulders of the front ones to lunge at them. One grasped the edge of the ledge, jaw clacking, and Caria stamped on its hand, crushing its hollow bones beneath her heel. It fell back with a clatter, its wings trailing ribbons of mummified skin. Before the next wight got close, Caria managed to draw her sabre, sweeping it down to hook the wight away, throwing it out over the crowd to smash against the path behind.
“Alack,” Jerrioh said behind her. “I had not anticipated such an outcome.”
Caria spared him a glare. He was pressed back against the cliff, wings spread as he peered down at the army of undead.
“Your assistance would be appreciated,” she snapped, kicking another encroaching wight so hard that its skull snapped off its spine, the blue flames in its eyes fading as it crashed down.
He sighed. “I am a scholar, not a warrior. The sword does not become me. I shall not impede your actions.”
“Jerrioh! We are about to be eaten!”
“It would appear so,” he observed. “Although one wonders about their digestive powers.”
“Jerry! Assist me!” To think he was the least irritating of her brothers!
“I am considering our options.”
Ice was spreading up the golden sides of the canyon. Below them the bank was thronged with wights, their eyes casting the only light in the depths of the canyon. The river behind them was dark and still.
Bone fingers closed around her ankle, so cold they hurt. Caria hacked at the sinews that tattered around its wrist, and the hand crumpled into dust, leaving her ankle throbbing.
“One wonders about the ice,” Jerrioh remarked.
Caria ignored him.
“It must be formed by extracting water from the air. For what purpose?”
Another wight, this one with both hands on the ledge. It clacked its jaw at her, showing its stained teeth, and pushed up. There was yet another one behind it. She swung round to slash at the first, and Jerrioh said, “An experiment, perhaps?”
Her sabre jammed in its ribs. The one behind scrabbled up and began to crawl towards her.
Caria shook her sabre wildly, trying to get rid of the clutching thing. Behind her, she could feel Jerrioh raising power, and she hoped he was actually trying something productive, rather than recording her slow demise for the edification of generations to come.
Finally, her sword came free, sending the wight spinning out over the heads of the crowd. She looked for the next one.
And it erupted into her face, bone wings slamming around her head as it lunged for her.
Caria screamed and leapt backwards, crashing into the cliff and Jerrioh's wing.
“Careful!” he said.
The wight's jaws gaped open and it darted at her throat. Caria brought her sabre up enough to hit it in the face. It recoiled and then came back, bone hands clawing at her shoulders.
Its jaws clamped over her sword, and she tried to push it backwards. The moment she touched its ribcage, her fingers went cold and clumsy. Nonetheless she tried to force it back over the edge.
“Release it!” Jerrioh shouted behind her.
Hoping he'd thought this through, she pulled her fingers away and leant back. The wight screeched and swung at her, letting her sword go.
A blaze of hot air roared over her shoulder, making her cheeks sting and hurling the wight away from her. The blast carried it all the way to the river, where it hit with a splash and a shriek which made her ears twinge. Its bone arms groped above the the river for a moment, but then the water around it began to bubble, a thick white froth coming to the surface, and the bones sank down, dissolving into nothing.
The remaining wights all turning to watch, wailing.
“Excellent!” Jerrioh said. “My hypothesis was correct. They cannot abide the touch of water. Are you uninjured, Cari?”
“I am well,” she said, picking her sword. The wights on the bank were still gazing at the water. “But I told you eating too many vegetables would have a bad effect on your digestion.”
“It was a spell-” he started indignantly. Then he sighed and crossed his arms. “Some sisters would show gratitude at this point.”
Caria grinned at him. “Some brothers wouldn't have dragged me into this mess in the first place.”
He sniffed. “This is the only place the plant grows. How was I supposed to know it was infested with undead?”
“Wasn't there some note in that book of yours about cuttings being perilous to obtain?”
“That's why I invited you along, o most venturesome of sisters,” he said, grinning back. “It failed to elaborate, though, and there was certainly no mention of wights.”
“Upon which subject,” Caria said, “they seem to be turning back this way. What spell was that?”
“Just a basic blast,” he said, frowning. “A suggestion?”
“Go ahead,” she said, taking up a firm stance and readying her blade.
“We cannot get into the air from here, but we could get into the river.”
“And get my wings wet?” Caria protested, bringing the pommel of her sword down on the first skull to appear above edge of the ledge.
“Better drenched than dinner,” he said cheerfully and blew another wight into the water. “You can still swim, can't you?”
“If I must,” she muttered. She hadn't done much swimming since her wings grew. She hated the stench of soggy feathers. The river wasn't that wide here, though.
Another wight came scrambling up, so she kicked it away. “Check the opposite bank before we launch ourselves.”
She concentrated on the wights while he took off his glasses and looked out over the water. “There's a beach. No tombs or caves that I can perceive. The flats are long enough to let us run into the wind once our wings have dried once more.”
“Sounds good. What do we do if they freeze the river?”
“I had not thought so far ahead.”
“That would be why I am paid to fly into dangerous places, and you are a botanist.”
“And I had thought it was merely because the courier service preferred speed to subtlety.”
“Watch that,” she said, knocking a wight into the climbing masses below, “or I will hit you next. The river?”
“I leave it to your greater wisdom,” he said happily. “I am but a mere botanist, and you are a great shaman courier, at harmony with the world. I do not doubt you can keep the river from freezing.”
“I loathe you,” she said, eyeing the distance between their ledge and the edge of the water. “If you would oblige with your blasting spell again, that would give us a chance to get down from here without breaking our necks.”
“Right away,” he said, and Caria kicked another gibbering undead creature off the ledge and braced herself for a very cold swim.
