Prologue: Green Sky

[Eireleen]

Argent was still growling. She couldn't understand this. She couldn't comprehend the fact that her attack hadn't worked. How could something like that be? She had torn apart countless beasts with her claws, but she had never seen anything like this ever before.

It didn't bleed. It didn't scream. She had hit, but it hadn't done anything...

Uthaal told her that all she could do was watch. But when she looked forward, what she was wasn't a shadow, or a wraith. All she was was an intruder. And it was walking towards her father.

With a feral scream, she leapt again, her claws and teeth phasing through the figure like fog. But she kept attacking - like a monster gone berserk, she kept slashing at it over and over.

She couldn't let it near him.

She couldn't let it near Miervaldis, no matter what. Even if she kept attacking until she couldn't move her arms anymore. She didn't understand anything about visions, or what was real or not real. All she understood was that this thing didn't belong here.

[Throndir]

Darting back and forth with her claws and fangs gleaming silver from the moonlight rays streaming from the window, Argent dashed striking the weak points of the strange dark figure. But every time she thought her attacks connected, she would simply phase through the person. Her fangs would bite empty air, and her claws would rake nothing but the light resistance she felt when going through the figure. She would land harmlessly on the other side, and attack again, but every time she did so, the same result happened.

Though the intruder at first stopped and paused during the first two dashes Argent had landed, the figure once again started making its way towards the bedroom where Miervaldis and the other Argent slept. The creature was quiet and silent, it made nary a sound. The entirety of the woods was silent save for the growls that came from Argent and the light breathing coming from the deep slumber of Miervaldis and the other Argent.

The intruder raised his hand, and with his finger started forming what looked to be arcane symbols in the air. There was no chanting, and neither did his clothing make any sound what-so-ever.

[Linwelin]

Uthaal merely watched, heart-broken that nothing could be done. But he decided he would try anyways. What worse could happen than watching an old friend die... He was already on the verge of tears watching Argent's desperation. Things felt hopeless, but he truly hoped that non-physical damage could do something. He charged the figure, saying a quick cantrip to conjure flames in his hand. He thrust out his palm, hoping the flames can cause some sort of recoil. He was desperate to stop it now, lest he have to watch this horrid scene play out.

[Throndir]

The flames gathered in energy as the druid thrust his palm out, within moments the fire shot out like a coiled snake releasing its pent up energy. Flames immediately engulfed the figure, circling around him with speed and ferocity, but if the figure showed any signs of harm, there was none. An inhuman sound echoed instead from what seemed to source from the intruder, yet the figure did not react to the fire as he continued to trace the arcane lines in the air with his surgical precision. It was as if the figure never noticed the spell that was directed at him.

But yet, where did that inhuman cry come from? If not from the intruder?

Whatever spell the figure cast, it completed. The figure then drew his robe's sleeve from his arm, and though you expected to see a inhuman or misshapen limb, the revealed arm that came out looked to be completely normal. Even as the flames circled around the intruder, the tone of the skin, the few bristles of hair as they gleamed faintly in the moonlight, and the veins of blood were apparent and visible.

In all this time the flames that Uthaal cast raged around him, no aspect from the intruder seemed to take notice, except one. As the flames bit and continued flared to life, the dark mists that encircled the man seemed to react with the ebbs and flows of the fire. Within moments, the aura that was once the mist formed into a single entity hovering right at the man's head.  It was a strange and unique sight, the dark mist that had once covered the floors were all gone, and instead became concentrated right at the man's head. But it wasn't that fact which drew the most attention, it was instead the two bulbous orange eyes that appeared from the dark mists.

And unlike everything else from this world that probably would not have noticed the two companions, the eyes stared directly into Uthaal. Sharp claws formed moments later, and before anyone could react, it leapt towards the druid, its claws leading the way.

[spoiler]Rolls/Effects/Summary:
[spoiler]
Uthaal casts Conjure Flame.
Uthaal deals 3 fire damage.
Dark mist attacks.
Dark mist's attack missed.
[/spoiler]

Status:
[spoiler]

Round 2 in progress - Still to move: Argent, Uthaal, Dark mist?

Damage Dealt
Dark mist?: 3

Spells/Abilities/Potions used since the day:
Uthaal
Conjure Flame (Level 1)

Party HP
Argent: 10/10,
Uthaal: 9/9,

[/spoiler]
[/spoiler]

[Linwelin]

By the gods, what is that!? And why a sleep spell? Is that body mind controlled or something?

Uthaal watches carefully, then freezes in shock when eyes and claws form on the gaseous creature.

The lunge surprised him, but he managed to keep a cool head. Uthaal recognized that physical attacks did nothing to the creature, this was a magic fight. After his haphazard dodge away from the mist, he stepped back from it to give some space, then released another gout of flames from his palm, using the fire that remained from the cantrip. I don't have much more in the way of damage spells left...this could get ugly...Hesp, aid me if possible!

"Argent, check on the other man and Miervaldis, I can keep this thing busy for a while. The spell cast was some sort of sleep spell, but I don't know why it was used. Be careful!"

[Throndir]

As Uthaal ended his words of warning, he watched as the flames again encircled the target, except this time, instead of raging around the figure, it was centered at the dark mist-like creature. The flames licked in anticipation as the flames struck in all possible directions attempting to harm or injure the strange creature that they were sent upon.

Meanwhile, as the battle between the druid and mist-like creature started in fullswing, the robed figure did not seem to take any notice or heed of the fight that happened not a few feet away, or even of the mist creature that hovered about him. The figure, now more visible with the mists being concentrated elsewhere, continued to place the palm of his hand on Miervaldis' head. For some reason the old man did not stir or even wake from the physical touch. He remained deathly silent, and deathly quiet.

Some sort of light poured forth from the man's open palm. It wasn't the type of light that illuminated brightly, rather, it felt like it was the opposite. It was dark, black, and felt sinister. An impenetrable darkness had appeared just around the figure's hand spreading forth on Miervaldis' forehead where the man placed his palm on.

There was a inhuman cackle that came from the mist-like creature as it's claws managed to rake across Uthaal's chest, drawing blood in revenge for its own burns. The wounds felt sickening, as if Uthaal's very lifeforce was drained in that strike. Though there was blood, his chest felt deathly cold.

[spoiler]Rolls/Effects/Summary:
[spoiler]
Uthaal casts Conjure Flame.
Uthaal deals 5 fire damage.
Dark mist attacks.
Dark mist deals 2 slashing damage, 1 constitution damage.
[/spoiler]

Status:
[spoiler]

Round 2 in progress - Still to move: Argent, Uthaal, Dark mist?

Damage Dealt
Dark mist?: 8

Spells/Abilities/Potions used since the day:
Uthaal
Conjure Flame (Level 1)
Conjure Flame (Level 1)

Party HP
Argent: 10/10,
Uthaal: 7/9, -1 con

[/spoiler]
[/spoiler]

[Eireleen]

Argent continued her frenzied assault. She didn't understand why her attacks weren't working, but it didn't slow her down in the slightest. Her claws were all she had. If they didn't work, nothing would. There was no point in thinking about anything else, other than ripping and tearing her prey.

Her rage seemed almost palpable as the cloaked figure laid a hand on her father. She wasn't paying attention to the fight behind her, between Uthaal and the strange creature. Instead, she merely focused her entire being into removing the man's arm from his body. All ten claws, and two rows of jagged teeth and fangs, accompanied by screams and shouts that she herself couldn't hear. In her inhuman rage, the sound of even her own voice was lost on her.

[Throndir]

Though Argent slashed and attacked over and over, her claws did nothing as the figure continued on with what he was doing. The figure's hand was still on Meirvaldis' head as it throbbed with the same black light or energy that seemed to flow from the man's hand into Miervaldis. Miervaldis still did not move. As always he was still and quiet. Slowly and surely the dark light that came off from the figure's open palm diminished, little by little the darkness dimmed, until finally there was nothing except for the figure's palm on the old druid's head. The figure smiled wryly to himself as he took his hand off from the druid. He was done.

There was a deathly chill that crawled along the duo's backs. Miervaldis still looked the same, at peace and quiet, but something about him looked off. Other than the battle engaged between the mist-like creature and Uthaal, only a few other sounds were heard. It didn't take long for both Uthaal and Argent realize that there was only one set of light breathing left where there once was two. All they heard were the quiet sighs of the sleeping Argent.

The figure stepped back as it considered the sleeping Argent. He stared at the sleeping form for just a moment later until he turned and started on his way out. Though he wore a hood, the two could see him smiling, he stepped out of the first door; the bedroom door, unknowingly walking into both the mist-like creature and Uthaal as he passed right through them. He spoke a few words in a hushed tone.

Gin cerith muath un minne.

[spoiler]Rolls/Effects/Summary:
[spoiler]
Argent attacks.
[/spoiler]

Status:
[spoiler]

Round 3 in progress - Still to move: Argent, Uthaal, Dark mist?

Damage Dealt
Dark mist?: 8

Spells/Abilities/Potions used since the day:
Uthaal
Conjure Flame (Level 1)
Conjure Flame (Level 1)

Party HP
Argent: 10/10,
Uthaal: 7/9, -1 con

[/spoiler]
[/spoiler]

[Linwelin]

The cold, draining feeling from the wound alarmed Uthaal. This feeling...this creature is either demonic or undead...I'm not prepared for either! Well, at this point, I have nothing to lose!

Uthaal takes a large risk and dives forward, knowing that divine energy harms the undead. It was a small chance, but he had multiple cure spells that could work if it ended up damaging the creature.

If this doesn't work, I have no idea what will!

[spoiler]I attempt to cure 1 damage on the mist. If it is undead, it instead takes 1 damage.[/spoiler]

Gin cerith muath un minne.

"'Gin cerith muath un minne'!?" Uthal exclaims in surprise. What lord!? Gods, what is going on...wait, rise? To gain either life, or quickly rise in power you would need...NO! He quickly looks to Miervaldis, seeing an unnatural stillness. I takes everything he has to not burst into tears. So this is how you died, old friend...it is too cruel for words, considering what you had done while living. Why you!? Who is this "lord"!?

His frustration and anger turn to the mist, desperate to kill it or force it to flee so he can focus on the vision.

[Eireleen]

Argent stopped. Completely stopped - her claws, her arms, her teeth, even her breathing. She could tell immediately - she witnessed the exact moment at which his life had been taken.

She wasn't listening. She didn't hear the man's words, or Uthaal's fight. As the cloaked man drew his hand away from her father's head, her legs gave out. She sunk to her knees, staring wide-eyed at the bed in which Miervaldis was no longer breathing.

The mysterious figure walked right through her as it made its exit. She didn't pursue. There was no point in pursuing. She had already lost her father once. In her mind, she had thought that she had a second chance to protect him. But there was no such thing from the beginning. He slipped away right before her eyes, all over again.

She didn't understand anything. Why was she seeing herself, and Miervaldis again? Why was she seeing him die again? Why did she have to see these things?

Her arms hung like dolls at her side, as her claws retracted. She reached out with a trembling, pale hand at her father's still body. But it didn't reach him. She already understood. The arm fell again, along with her head. The vision of the floor that her eyes took in didn't reach her consciousness. She merely fell to her hands and knees, in silence.

...He was gone, again.

[Throndir]

As the figure started moving back, Uthaal had launched into spellcasting, and though his glowing hands made contact with the mist-like creature, there was no evident pain or destruction that occurred. Moments turned into seconds, and slowly the figure walked away.

A curious thing happened. As the killer moved further away from the duo, the mist-like creature followed. Not seemingly by will but the druid noticed as the distance between he and the figure grew distant, the mist-like creature continued to thin, and grow weaker. Suddenly it came to the point that the distance was too great. Its eyes glowing a fierce orange, it screamed inhumanly as its claws reached out for the druid hoping to further injure or kill the elf, only to have its sharp claws just barely reach Uthaal.

It retreated back to the vicinity of the figure who was by now moving out of the lonesome shack in the woods. It coiled itself around the man, and once again, like how Uthaal and Argent had seen it, the figure was shrouded in darkness. The orange eyes glowed for just a moment longer as it stared hatefully at the druid. But even those winked out as did its claws when it faded into the same dark mist that had circled around the figure.

The drizzle of rain outside had intensified since then, and as the adrenaline started fading away, the sounds of the heavy splashing of water became apparent to both Uthaal and Argent. The glow of the moon shone lazily on Miervaldis' features. It looked as if the man was still simply asleep. Though, the lack of the slow rise and fall of his breathing told the duo otherwise.

[Linwelin]

Uthaal fell to his knees. We're saved...but gods, we've failed...

As he watched the final traces of the creature fade out of existence, he was able to once again pay attention to himself and his surroundings, knowing that they were at least safe. He could hear the rain falling outside, and after a while began to shiver, unsure if it was the cold, or the pall of failure that hung within the room.

He's dead...again... Uthaal turned to look back at the bed, seeing the old man laying in his bed. I fear what they might have done to him...he didn't deserve this. Then he saw Argent, in the same position as Uthaal himself. Gods, she didn't deserve this either, it was too much. Why was this necessary!? Why put her through the exact same pain, where her actions were futile in preventing the death of her father...it's too cruel.

Uthaal the did something completely out of the ordinary. He wailed, crying out in sorrow and frustration, pain evident in every moment. Then, slowly, the sorrow began to turn to anger, and his numbness faded.

The words...that man spoke in druidic, and said something strange. If his 'lord' is to rise, that means he is currently without the power he needs, or possibly sealed. For now, that is good. He also stated it in a way that made clear there were more than just him. This is a group, possibly large, with tainted powers offered by this 'lord'. Something dangerous is happening, and somehow, Miervaldis and Argent are involved...and now I am as well. They will regret bringing this to my attention. I will return all of this pain to them TENFOLD!

Though still in turmoil over what has occurred, Uthaal finally has the willpower and motivation to stand. This event, this whole dangerous scenario, must be what Hesp wished him to prevent. Without a doubt, these goings-on were an abomination of the natural world; what just happened before was not normal, and certainly evil.

Uthaal walked over to Argent, and knelt down beside her, as he knew such a shock to her new emotions must be incredibly painful. He put a hand on her shoulder to at least ward off the feeling of loneliness, giving some comfort. It was all he could do, for now.

The deathly silence continued to hang in the room as Uthaal, and Argent, tried to recover from their loss.

[Throndir]

As the silence lingered, the moments passing by like a still wind blowing slowly through the trees, the duo felt the same warm presence as before.

"My children." It echoed, from either their minds, or from somewhere in the area, it was hard to tell, but they knew that both of them heard the voice clearly. "Death is as part of the balance of energy and nature as is life. But the act which you have just borne witness to is far from natural. Miervaldis still had decades left in him, but more importantly is the shift in the natural balance." As if on cue, the air started shimmering, and moments later a figure of a human appeared. He was old and weathered, though it was hard to tell precisely how old the man was. He wore a brown robe hooded with a cowl, and in his hand he held a staff. The old man looked Uthaal particularly closely.

"Touch the staff when you are ready. He said to both of them.