Nevfae vs. Golfar the Veil

[BrookSkimmer]

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Nevfae vs. Golfar the Veil

Setting: Sandy beach with water on one side and salt marshes to the other.

Golfar the Veil has first post!

[BloodGullet]

*Skral! Could it be? Her mind couldn't believe that he would remain on the ship while the landing party left to do battle.  If she anything about the lizard it was that he was not afraid to fight, and was as bloodthirsty as the rest of them. Yet, her sharp eyes had distinctively made out his form on the deck of the BloodSpine in the brief moment that the smoke was temporarily cleared by a breeze.

All of this was going through her mind as Golfar scrabbled back down the rocky incline toward the beach ignoring the bushes tearing at her.  Her heart beating in her chest and her mind whirling with emotions. Joy for finally having the chance at true revenge, rage at all of the years of bottled anger, sadness at the memory of her lost parents, and the rush of excitement at the thought of the upcoming battle. As she cleared the slope her paws barley touched the sand as she sped toward one of the smaller boats pulled up on the beach.  She flashed by beasts locked in battle who would look up in amazement with odd expressions at something so strange as somebeast just running by and ignoring the ongoing melee. Amazingly, due to the boldness and unexpectedness of the move (and a good deal of luck), she was not slowed in her quest by any beast stepping into her path to challenge her.  She stayed on her single-minded race until reaching the craft she was focused on.  In a flash, she was out far enough to get the craft floating, and in a swift move, was onboard and pulling at the oars before the sea had a chance to push it back in. She ignored the calls and angry yells from the beasts on the shore.

It seemed only a short time before the prow was bumping into the hull of the BloodSpine, and as fate would have it, near the rope ladder lowered for the crew to re-board her later. There was a thick envelope of smoke around the ship, reaching down almost to the water, making the climb up the ladder like climbing into the clouds. The only thing on her mind, though, was the task that lay before her.

The scene on the deck reminded her of the stories told of hellgates. Broken pieces of mast and boom and rail strewn about along with broken pieces of almost anything imaginable from the ship and some things unidentifiable, half on fire and the other half blackened with smoke still rising from it. It was if it was a place where one would throw used, broken or discarded ship parts to be burned. Golfar took it all in only in an effort to scan for her prey, with hardly any notice to the eerie chaos as she leapt over the rail landing in a crouched position not knowing what to expect.

Aha! There he was! Over by the far rail near where the boats were lowered, slowly stirring and moaning was the focus of her quest. Rising slowly out the pile of half burning debris, with smoke and fire rising with him and looking like some hideous demon from some ancient myth, was her enemy.  The wound on his head and the pile nearby explained the reason for his delay.

"Wazz, ... Wazz hass happened here!" Skral managed to say. Golfar replied back in a sarcastic tone, "Why Skral, old pal, it seems you decided to take a nap while the others went ashore to play."  Skral, not liking her tone and implication, tilted his head in a threatening way and growled, "Listen here, pup, I don't have time for games. I need to get to the beach and help the captain!"
"Oh, Skrally, there'll be plenty of time for that later.  Right now, I need a word with you . . . " and she passed, her tone changing to being more serious and deadly, "about this! and she ripped of the veil that had been such a part of her life.

Skral, realizing that this confrontation was not going to end easy, started circling around what was left of the mast and put his claw on the hilt of his sword. "Ssso, what do I care about your little scratch! I didn't do that.  I would have finished the job had it been me"

She still had a small doubt as to whether it was really Skral who was the last of the Red Eagle crew not only to have escaped, but to have been the actual one who had dealt the fatal blow to her parents, and lastly her mother, leaving only the ruby pendant and her scar.  Many times in her dreams she remembered that day and replayed that final scene in her mind only to wake up right before seeing the face of the beast that held the sword.  She felt strongly that she had seen it, but that the memory was to horrible to remember all of it and so was being blocked. She looked each of the crew of the Red Eagle in the face before or after slaying them, trying to see if it would stir her memory, but to no avail.  She had been almost out of hope until she had heard about there being a survivor.

She thought to try a test.  Faces of slain beasts may be forgotten by some pirates used to many victims, but rare jewels of exceptional beauty are never forgotten. "Tell, you what Skral, see if you recognize this, it was my mother's." Taking out the ruby and holding it out by the chain to spin so that it would catch the light made it look like a red star in the haze of smoke on the deck and the sun low in the sky behind her sending red flashes all over the amazed face of the lizard. His expression and comment, "The ruby! I thought it was lost in the battle!" was all the confirmation she needed.

Putting the ruby away and barely able to control her shaking rage, Golfar slowly replied,"No, Skral, not lost, just a final gift, held in the hand of the child who caught it as it was .. removed" her last word was almost a whisper.  A slow light or recognition and recollection crept across his brain and he replied, "Oh yes, now I remember, there was this little whelp, but I thought I .."
"No Skral, you didn't finish the job!" Golfar interrupted, "but I will!"

A rage held in check for years erupted like a volcano. Her swords flashed out like lightning and she had closed the distance as if by magic.  Skral had not gotten to be as old as he was in his violent profession by accident. He was strong, fast, cunning, and ruthless and combined with extraordinary skill and speed, made him able to last as long as he did among the most murderous on the high seas. As such, he had anticipated her attack, but barely. His sword was at least half out of the scabbard and twisted in a way as to at least parry the first blow and twisting his upper body at the same time helped him avoid the second.  However, the recent blow to his head caused a momentary dizziness and with the sudden motion made him stumble away from his attacker putting a pile of burning wood and sail between them. Through his stinging eyes from the smoke, the throbbing shooting pain from his wound, and the shimmering waves of heat from the fire, Skral could see two red eyes that seemed to be not of this world, a monster bent on rending him from his soul.
"Revenge will be mine!" was the battle cry bellowed by Golfar as she seemed to come out of nowhere.  Skral had managed to clear his scabbard by now and was gripping it two-handed style. The blaze of fury turned into a whaler wind of steel. The blows coming so fast and furious as to almost be a force like a driving wind; the sound of each impact almost blending in with the next. Skral was holding his own, but still having to maneuver around to find and open area so as to be able to find a moment to counter. The fought for what seemed like ages, silent except for the sound of steel.

Golfar at this point had lost all sense of self.  Flashing through her mind, the images of her childhood, her parents, the kind but disciplined monks, and finally and slowly, the final day of her mother's life. Just as she was nearing the part that she could never remember, Skral had been backing away to the short steps going to the aft deck and had found a moment to counter attack.  Raising his sword, the image before flashed into her brain like lightning because it was the very image of her blocked memory that then flooded back like an explosion. "YOU!" she screamed, "IT WAS YOU!" An incomprehensible rush of tears, rage, hatred and grief poured out of her in a flood, and with yells of rage doubled her efforts in a blur of steel and sparks, driving Skral back on to the smaller deck. He tried his best to fend off the new attack and was for the first time feeling something new, fear. Trying some old ploys he managed to rid Golfar of her smaller sword. Strangely, this seemed to make matters worse now that she had two hands one the one weapon now.

He saw a small opening to try and get to clearer ground by jumping down onto the lower deck. Tripping, he rolled and ended on his back. Instinctively, he had raised his sword to block an attack, which was the right thing to do as Golfar had followed him, and seeing her opportunity had leaped into the air to bring her sword down on her foe.  

Time, for both, slowed to a strange sort of slow motion. Both could see the two swords meet.  Both watched as Skral's sword shattered and shards seemed to hang in mid air as if they too wanted to watch the final blow.  Both also watched as Golfars sword found its resting place in the deck of the ship, after passing through Skral, and the broken half of Skral's sword found a home in the side of Golfar.

"Ssskral . . . winss . . ." were his last words. And so ended the days of Skral.

"For you . . . Mother . . . " she barely managed to whisper before collapsing to the deck.

Not even feeling the pain, but holding the wound to stop the blood, Golfar did not know how long she sat there looking at the lifeless form of Skral.  She did not feel the joy or satisfaction she expected, just numb and empty. Finally, she the sounds of the battle raging on the beach penetrated the fog in her mind and she realized that if the woodlanders win, and the ship not going anywhere anytime soon, she would be found and not shown any mercy.  Her only hope was to make it to the beach and head south.  Nothing was left for her here now.  Wincing as she rose, she retrieved her sword.  She looked for a moment for her other sword, but with the pain, her sense of urgency to leave and the smoke in her eyes, she decided to leave without it. Stumbling over the rail she barely made it down the ladder and into the boat, landing with a grunt from the pain in her side.  She had thrown a swath of old sail that had been knocked to the deck down into the boat, and singer sword, cut a long strip that she tied around her to cover her wound. then, grabbing the oars, she heading for a point on the beach away form the fighting.  Each pull on the oars bringing a bite of pain, Golfar started to get a strange feeling of peace, of a chapter in her life closing, of the beginning of something new. "Hah!" she said to herself outlaid, "fat chance of that, Golfar me ol' matey, if'n we don't get far from these here waters".  

Eventually, the prow of the small boat crunched into the sand of the beach and she jumped out, gasping at the shock of the cold of the water and the sting of the salt in her wound, and she stumbled up onto the beach. Looking toward the battle, she was relieved that it seemed no one noticed her. Yar! Time to make with the tracks! So long me hearties! she thought to herself. But, as she turned to go, there was a rustling in the bushes near the edge of the slope, between her and freedom, could that be one of the crew, or one of the woodlanders? Only a moment, and she would find out.

[W0NWILL]

Thwacking vermin heads was fun, so that was Nevfae's goal. Her paw loosely held the string of her bow, ready to be drawn in an instant. Of course, it wouldn't do much good in a face-to-face combat. She still hadn't found her staff. She crept through the sparse bushes at the edge of the marsh, cracking twigs and generally causing a ruckus. She was terrible at keeping quiet, as with many things. Drops of water formed at the tips of her spikes, magnifying and making them look several times bigger. The water didn't stay at the tops for very long, though. They quickly slid down and made her shiver when they came between her and her tunic. The curtain of misty rain hung, effectively shielding her from the sights of any nearby vermin, though that worked the other way as well.

Deciding to just wing it, she began jogging, her paw tightening around the string instinctively as she made even more noise. She burst from the bushes and came face-to-face with a hideous stoat. Well, hideous may not be the right word. She was actually fairly pretty, for a stoat, if not for the horrific wound dominating the left side of her face. Even Nevfae was temporarily lost for words at this sight, but she quickly recovered and said, in a classic Nevfae fashion, "Hello!" even as she said this, she pulled back on the string, ready to shoot, though she would most likely get a sword in her chest before she could get a shot out. Ah, but! It seemed this stoat was injured. Running away from the action because of a little wound, typical vermin.

[BloodGullet]

Bursting out of the brush was a large mass of feathers, quills and noise, but what brought Golfar's attentions to focus in a hurry was the arrow now pointed at her.  Blood and Thunder, they've got the jump on me Luckily, she had already been reaching for her sword, and had it halfway out when she realized that the beast already had the advantage.

In the dim light it was not easy at first for her eyes to focus on what sort of beast this was, but slowly she realized that it was a hedgehog with a feathery tunic on.   The hedgehog balked a little having seen her old scar, a reaction she was too familiar with, but that response had ceased to hurt years ago, then recovered and offered a challenging "Hello!".

They hesitated! Time for a little attitude! Keeping her sword at its half out position, but twisting it so the fading red sunlight would glint off of its blade, she decided to return the hog's greeting, "Ahoy there me fine spikey friend! I see's you've noticed me fashion statement.  'Twas a gift from an dear old friend (rest his ol' soul). But I sees you're a-wonderin' to yourself (and right you should being the right intelligent sort I can see ye are) just what could a creature like this be doin' out here on the beach at a time like this?  Well, well, I'm obliged to be forthright then, seeing as how there be one too many pointy things aiming my way. 'Tis a fine night for a walk, I says to me self, (wouldn't you say?) and so, I was just a-headin' m'self southwards, to catch a bit of the glorious night air on the coast. Perhaps you'd care to join me?  Seems there's naught but a regular ol' galley-whoop a-brewin' back there!"

As she carried on this charade, she was slowly turning herself so that the sun was directly behind her in order to have it shine in the hedgehog's eyes. She knew that she would only have a fraction of a second to avoid the arrow at this distance, if she could, and that the distance was just right for a counter-move, if it came to that. So when she finally felt that she was in position, she added, "So, what say ye, me fine feathered friend, let's put away these toys, and cast off, " and here her tone changed to a low and menacing snarl filled with murderous intent, backed up with her eyes flashing to red and a horrible look of rage made worse by her scar, "before some poor beasty gets themselves hurt!"

[W0NWILL]

*Nevfae slowly relaxed her grip on her bow, lowering it so the arrow was pointing loosely at the ground, "I ain't afraid of you." she tried to keep her voice a tough snarl, but was betrayed by the quaver of fear in her voice. She was still young, much younger than this stoat. What chance did she have against a bigger, albeit injured, stoat that actually had a weapon for close combat? What if she died? Who would miss her? The Swords probably wouldn't. To them, she was just a young hedgehog, not even being able to fix a ballista without destroying it, jumping at the chance of combat. But now, finally facing it, she was terrified. But what did it matter? Every beast died someday, be it in battle or age. There is no dishonorable way to die, as long as you did something with your life. It was time to do something with her life. With a steely resolve, quite unlike her usual character, she tightened her grip around, not the string of the bow, but the bow itself.

Nevfae breathed slowly and deeply, to keep herself from hyperventilating. Suddenly, "I'm not afraid of you!" ripped from her throat in a terrible yell that resolved into a wordless scream. She charged at the stoat, swinging her bow sideways in hopes to catch the stoat a glancing blow on the shoulder, "My name is Nevfae!" she shouted, "A nobody, couldn't do anything right! Now I say I can do something right! I can fight for FREEEEDOM!"

[BloodGullet]

Golfar had seen this many times in her years of combat on the high seas, the nervous fear of first time battles; first the tremor in the voice, then the yell to give oneself courage, then the flailing outburst.  Most of the time, unless the attack is also guided by skill, it usually ended badly for the attacker.  Her body simply responded the way it had been trained to do, as it had a thousand times before in exactly the same way, except it would usually be a metal sword and not a wooden bow that was swinging at her, by stepping back into a wider stance, slightly lowering her center of gravity, pulling her sword with her right paw while at the same time pulling backwards on the scabbard so that the blade cleared faster, letting her arm sweep out an arc in a half-circle while at the same time straightening her wrist, snapping her hips and shoulders at the last second for maximum sword tip velocity.  The counter strike was aimed (as it usually always is) so as to not only block the attacking weapon with the middle of the sword, but for the tip, the most dangerous part of her weapon, to be passing through the attacker's neck.

Perhaps, it was the pluck and bravery of the young hedgehog, perhaps she was finally tired of killing as there was now no point to it, perhaps it was something she said or how she said it, or maybe, just maybe, it was a small glimmer of compassion for some beast that felt like an outsider, a feeling she knew all too well.  In any case, something at the last second caused her to shift back by a mere fraction of a degree, enough she knew so that it would not take the beast's head off, and braced for the impact of the bow on her sword.  This won't last long she thought, and strangely, for her, added unfortunately.

[W0NWILL]

The sword cut cleanly through the string of the bow, thudding into the tough wood as it sprang free from the tension the string provided, straightening with the force of a loaded spring. At the same time, the point of the sword caught Nevfae's shoulder.

First there was a blind rage, the sort that couldn't be explained, then there was a fresh wave of fear, then the burning pain radiating from her shoulder. She had never before wanted to curl up and die until this moment. No time. No time! There was little families in the caves, those she had to protect. She backed up quickly, holding the bow sideways across her chest, ready to fight. The pain was growing, but she forced it into a tiny little box and mentally chucked it at the stoat. No time for pain!

[BloodGullet]

Golfar brought her sword around into a defensive position, her hands back and up near her right ear, the blade edge up and the point aimed at her opponent's throat, just to keep the hedgehog in check and to show her that she meant business, and addressed her in a calm and even tone, "now hear, hear miss Nevfae, that's no way to greet a stranger.  Didn't your elders teach you any better?  There's no sense in getting ourselves all wound up like this.  You can fight for freedom all you like, but right now, it doesn't appear that you have a weapon, just a funny looking stick."  Pausing a moment, she wondered to herself why she was bothering to  go on like this, but maybe she just need to tell some beast, no matter who it was, "I'll tell you a little secret, the only reason I was on this trip with captain chowder-head over there was to pay back a debt that was owed to me, . . . one that now is paid in full.  And since my business is finished here, I have no further use for his silly dreams of conquest, or honor, or whatever.  I understand revenge, but true and honorable revenge is bought with a deeper price than he's ever paid. So I'm of a-mind to high-step it out of this here little beach party!"

Pausing again, she continued, "So, shall we continue this, and I promise you, if we do, it will not turn out well for you, or shall we let ourselves part good company, with most of your blood still inside your skin? It is true, though, that all things must die, it's just a matter of where or when or how.  The warrior chooses. I can see that you are a warrior and a brave one.  If this is your choice, then so be it."  

She decided to force the issue now as she grew tired of this banter, and the slow loss of blood was starting to make itself felt. With a move as fast as lightning, Golfar struck in a downward arc with the hope of severing the bow in half, which would leave the hedgehog truly defenseless.

[W0NWILL]

Nevfae didn't have the time to react and the bow was broken in half. She looked up at Golfar indignantly, "You broke my bow!" she exclaimed, "I don't like it when you break my bow!" and she would've let the stoat go, if she hadn't broken Nevfae's bow. She was pretty pissed that her bow, which had been made several seasons ago by more experienced paws than Nevfae's, was broken. Nevfae was a hedgehog though, and not entirely defenseless. Ignoring the pain and mentally throwing it into the sea or in the stoat's face every time a new wave came, she curled up into a ball at the same time she threw herself at Golfar. She was a hedgehog! A ball of spiky needles and spines barreled toward Golfar, fueled by rage, rashness, and stupidity.

[BloodGullet]

The bow parted cleanly as Golfar knew it would, but the effect on the hedgehog was not as she expected.  She knew it would go one of two ways. Either the beast would be demoralized and defeated and seek escape, or be maddened into a rage that would mean death for one of them.  She knew from her experience that even an unarmed beast could be dangerous if enraged, and a hedgehog is never really unarmed.

Nevfae's sudden attack, though, was still surprising and she almost caught the full brunt of it.  Unconsciously pivoting on her back paw was all that saved her from being bowled over and pin-cushioned. However, since they had been so close, one of the hedgehog's spine's managed to rake across her mid-section, right over her old wound, opening up not just the canvas wrap, but the wound itself.

White-hot pain flared in her brain and she reflexively cried out, "Yarr!" Grabbing her side she looked at the growing stain under her paw.  Looking back up now with red eyes blazing, she knew what was next. Grimacing as her eyes burned with rage, she growled, "All righty then, matey . . . so, we shall dance"  and so this ends she thought.  Crossing the short distance between them in a flash, her sword flashed and swung in an arc designed to cleave the hedgehog in two with the full force of her rage and pain behind it, with a high pitched hiss as her razor-sharp sword split the air  . . . it's song of death . . .

[W0NWILL]

*Nevfae was lucky, just having the time to accidentally trip. However, the sword cleaved the side of her face, leaving a long jagged scar from her ear to her jaw, and taking an eye. Blood loss would get to her, or something else. Nevfae clapped a paw to it and whimpering, her knees collapsed. She hoped the stoat would be quick killing her. It's strange. When you're about to die, your life actually does flash before your eyes.

She saw herself. A little dibbun chasing the molebabe Gurrn across the beach as their mothers
She saw the berry bushes she had managed to grow. Life to sustain life on this cold shore.
She saw the creatures of the caves. Oblivious to the vermin while they celebrated springtime.
It all boiled down to one point, one final thought.

I don't want to die.

[BloodGullet]

*Golfar felt the impact of her sword, but it was not with the force she expected which meant she had not hit her target as she thought she would. She realized that her foe had moved very quickly at the last moment, and out of habit and instinct, spun with the sword raised, ready to strike.

What she saw, however, stopped her in her tracks. Here was the hedgehog, on her knees, completely at her mercy, holding her bloody face.  Immediately she flashed back in her mind to when she was struck by Skral and paused, her hand instinctively going up to her old scar.  Instantly, the fight left her, and only sadness remained.  

"You have fought bravely, Nevfae, and your comrades can be proud to call you friend.  Today will not be your last, not by my hand anyway.  I am growing old, and as I said, I am tired of all this fighting and killing."

Turning, she started out for the south as she had intended.  After a few paces she stopped and added, "Today, you have won your honor, and I . . . my freedom."

Sheathing her blade, she continued on her way, keeping close to the edge of the marsh and the high reeds for cover, pausing to adjust the wrap to try and stop the flow of blood which seemed to be getting worse. She also cut a short branch for a walking stick since the effects of the loss of blood were now starting to be felt.  Even though she knew she was close to death, she felt a peace, and a strong desire to return home.  

Eventually, the coast turned so she no longer felt at risk of being seen, and she attempted to make better time by walking more in the open of the beach.  Her pulse was throbbing in her ears and every sense was at its peak. She noticed the cool of the sand on her paws, the feel of the breeze, the smell of the sea in her nostrils and the feel of the rough wood in her hand, slippery with her own blood.

Mounting a slight grassy hill, she was stunned to a stop by the beauty of the sunset, as if painted by some master hand. The brilliant orange, red and purple bringing a tear to her eye. It was like one she had seen before, as a child while walking with her mother. She was racked by a cough and tasted her blood in her mouth, and tired feeling like she had never experienced before, as if the weight of the world were on her.  Her head spinning, she sat, and then lay back so she could still see the sunset.  Her vision grew dim.

Grabbing her amulet,  "I'm coming home, Mother," she managed to whisper.

Gradually, the beautiful panorama of the sunset changed to a field, a peaceful lovely place, with a dark forest at the edge of it. She didn't find it odd, though.  Soon, out of the woods, familiar beasts started emerging, beasts with faces she had not seen since childhood, faces of her long gone loved ones.  They were waving at her with beaming faces, beckoning her to come to them.

Then, she saw her mother.  

She ran to her.